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dotster001 · 1 year

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Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him!

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along. His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him.

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

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soy-garbage · 4 months

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JJK SMAU RECOMMENDATIONS ! PART 2 !!

Hello everyone!! I finally got around to do part 2 of jjk smaus!! hope y'all enjoy it and again all the credit for the works goes to the amazing authors who made them, and if you wrote any of these and are seeing my post: AAA Thank you for the great content!!! ≧◡≦<33 keep being amazing!! (part 1 here!)

(Completed: ✿)

(On going: ★)

･:*SMAU SERIES! :

SpellBound / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// By no means did you hate soulmates, you just hated that he was your soulmate. not like megumi was ecstatic that he was your soulmate either. but that’s fine, both of you found someone else to keep you company.

Show Me How / Yuta Okkotsu x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// What happens when fans catch you eyeing yuta on your friends stream? could it be something more?

Soft and Lightweight / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// In which megumi confesses to his sister's best friend after accidentally drinking at a party and how they try to go back to their original relationship afterwards. However, no matter how much they try to ignore each other and act like everything's okay, the awkward tension and growing heartbeats cannot be hidden.

You Always Had Me / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// what would you do if your hot best friend agreed to fake date you to make your ex-boyfriend jealous? Will it ruin your friendship or will it prevail into something more?

≡Open Chat ≡Open CH / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Two streaming groups are introduced to one another through their chat and find out they happen to go to the same university. When they decide to collaborate an interesting bond begins to form between two individuals. When the internet is involved within your love life it’s natural that things begin to turn rocky, especially when the two has a not so cute background following them.. how do they get their name out there and release to the media that things aren’t as they seem? or how do they do they come to terms that they’ve became closer then they’ve realized.

Fashion Flirt / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// You’re a fashion student in your first year of college, beginning the end of 2nd semester project, which just so happens to be designing a collection of 3 outfits to be modeled at a fashion show in late May. Your classes host model auditions for designers like you to go pick your models. While everyone is able to write down a max of 20 people, there’s one boy that catches your eye you hope ends up in your final 3.

Sleepless Nights / Yuta Okkotsu/Toge Inumaki x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Your second year of high school was supposed to be as boring as every other year, and for a while, that's exactly how it was. But an unexpected encounter with a mysterious boy one night suddenly makes your life more interesting.

Falling for you (and your streams!) / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★

･:*synopsis// Yn, a streamer who is roommates with Maki, Toge and Yuta, meets Maki's girlfriend on a certain stream. But what happens when Yn catches the eye of Nobara's best friend?

Flirting and Caffeine / Nanami Kento x Reader ✿

･:*synopsis// where yn, a newly hired barista (thanks to her brother) who also happens to master the reversed curse technique, meets Nanami Kento, a grade 1 sorcerer who favours the specific cafe that yn has started working at. He suddenly favours that cafe a little more than usual.

･:*SMAU ACCOUNTS! :

@lilsillycat

@saintkaylaa

@inmaki

@threewholeants

That's it!! if y'all would like me to do another part, please let me know!!!

check out all the accounts i tagged! i love their content and i'm sure you will too<3

thank you for reading ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡

( All the credit of the smaus goes to the accounts who made them! : @4phskingdom @strawberri-elixir @bryngmemoney @wmuffy @satoluv @bbunisre @satcrvz @todayisawthewhxlewxrld )

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smau #megumi fushiguro #smau #gojo satoru smau #jjk texts #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #nanami kento smau #nanami kento x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader

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runningfrom2am · 6 months

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leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..." Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey, @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg series #coryo snow

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adora-but-ginger · 16 days

Text

Aspersion

aspersion (noun): an attack on the reputation or integrity of someone or something; an accusation.

pairing: eventual spencer reid x gender neutral! reader

synopsis: in which spencer reid pushes a little too far

warnings: both spencer and the reader are assholes to each other a little, but it is justified! swearing (probs), typical cm violence and such, tension thicker than a cement wall

masterlist

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: hello and welcome to my first official criminal minds fic! all of the pieces in this anthology can most likely be read individually, but they will have connected themes throughout! please enjoy the first work in my "psych you out in the end" collection. want to be tagged? Let me know!

also casual reminder that this is glasses reid because i am gnawing at my enclosure over him

not proofread whoops

credit to gif owner!

It had been a long case. Five days in and little to no leads, yet a serial killer was still on the loose. This was your fourth case with the team now, most of which were still pretty apprehensive of your "psychological abilities." Penelope, who you've come to like the most, has been the kindest to you, even asking as far as for you to do her tarot. The rest of the team weren't as easygoing, but that wasn't the point right now.

It was of upmost importance to check out the latest crime scene, and you were paired with the hyper-suspicious Doctor Reid. He out of everyone trusted you the least, but now was the time to hopefully change that. He was a genius and you could read people, after all. You couldn't get a good read on him though, mostly because you two hadn't been around each other long enough to have more than a professional conversation. This was the first time it was the two of you, and you were going to make it count.

You could decipher anyone's aura, yet you were still a people pleaser. Ironic, almost.

"It looks like there was no forced entry, meaning that the unsub was someone they either knew or felt safe with." He darted his tongue between his lips after he spoke.

"Yeah, but aren't people in this neighborhood generally trusting? I think we should focus more on what he took." There was something itching at you about this scene, something that felt off.

You were a professional profiler, but you could just sense people's inner selves and auras--auras helped direct you into a person's mind and feelings. It varied per person and you weren't the best at explaining it, but you could tell a lot about someone if they even walked past you.

"Are you saying that the door might have been unlocked?"

"I'm saying it's a possibility."

Reid without a glance in your direction shook his head. "You know that's a very unlikely scenario, statistically women will secure their home much more than men, especially if they're living alone. Research also shows that when someone is under the impression that they can hold more than average strength either physically or mentally, they act out in irrational ways." He shrugged his eyebrows before murmuring quietly. "Like joining the FBI."

Did he just insult you? "Excuse me? Reid I'm just saying that we should shift our focus. Gideon said you had trust issues, but he didn't explain their severity." Had he really tried to undermine you in a way that he thought you wouldn't notice?

"Gideon makes decisions that could end up hurting the team more than helping them sometimes."

Okay now that was a diss. Wasn't he the one who hired Reid, too? You had dealt with people like this before, and you weren't going to let him get to you. "Let's just finish up and go meet up with everyone else."

The unsub was found and arrested two days later. Ironically, he was entering through unlocked doors, a detail that you were sure Reid was not too happy with when he found out. You were all on the jet ride home now, and would be here for the next few hours. This was the farthest case from Quantico yet, meaning the team finally had time to interrogate and learn more about you. Something that Emily and Derek were jumping at.

"Can you read my mind?"

"Can you tell what I want for dinner?"

"Can you tell when it's going to rain?"

They had both sat down across from you simultaneously, overwhelming you art first.

"Okay hold on." You threw your hands out slightly as a cue for them to stop. "Kind of, no, and yes--I check the weather station."

"Huh." Emily scrunched up her face, another question brewing. "So how does this psychic-ness work?"

You took a deep breath before starting. "I can just read you. Yes, like a profiler reads you, but also more than that. Profilers can only see the outside, but I can see the inside as well."

"Prove it." Derek crossed his arms. "Inside profile me."

Now that was a choice of words.

You held a finger up. "I will only if you promise to never say that phrase to me again."

He looked to Prentiss before a smile broke out. "Looks like they've got jokes, too."

A quiet laugh escaped you before continuing. "That I do. What do you want to know, Morgan?"

"My deepest-darkest secret." He said it in a joking manner, but you shook your head none the same.

"You don't want me to share that."

"I guess I don't. What do you really have for me, though?"

You took a second to really look at him, to see what he was hiding behind that smile--you were going to keep it light of course. You could look farther if you wanted, but the farther back you went the vaguer your readings were. "When were you going to tell everyone that you like Britney Spears?"

And just like that, you knew the two of them believed you now. Because the price on Derek Morgan's face was one that you wish you had a photo of. Emily's jaw dropped, eyes widening. "You refused to listen to her with me last week, traitor!"

Derek's mouth was also agape--he was flabbergasted. Eyebrows raised, he shook his head. "Fine, I believe you. Say no more. Please." His reaction made you chuckle, and it was all fun and games until Reid strode over, taking the seat next to you.

"You know, almost every public claiming psychic is usually a scammer or a fake. In fact--"

A groan escaped you. "Seriously? This again?"

"Yes! It was an incredibly irrational choice on Gideon to--"

The upbeat mood quickly dissipated, your temper going along with it. "Listen Reid, I don't need to explain myself to you. But, out of the kindness of my heart, I'm going to say this once." Emily and Derek''s eyes were bouncing between the two of you. "I don't announce it publicly, hence why "that is"psychic" is not my legal title. Second, I'm good at what I do, that's why I'm here. Believe me or not, but I can see right through you and your defenses."

The air took a tone that you didn't quite appreciate now, but he started this.

"You don't know a thing about me, in-in fact you don't know a thing about anyone, much less who I am." Annoyance was seeping through his words, and you were getting tired of his passive-aggressiveness. "You show up here being a so-called 'psychic'," his fingers went into air quotes at your title. "Yet you haven't done anything besides getting a confession out of one individual? Sounds like someone doesn't know how to handle being around actual profilers."

You wanted to slap the guy. But here you were again, taking the high road. "I'm too tired for this. If you want to doubt what I can do, fine. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before." You clenched your jaw and took a couple deep breaths to control your oncoming frustration. The conversation was over now, there was nothing left for him to say. How dare he insult your profiling skills too? How dare he--

"How have you been able to get this far lying?"

It was the straw on the camel's back, that line. He wouldn't drop it, and now he was going to face the consequences. You inched your head slowly to face his own, steadying your breaths even more, so you could make sure your words wouldn't get you fired this early on.

You looked into his eyes, really looking into him. The emotions he gave off, the way he held himself, his aura. If he was going to bash you for days in hopes of getting a response, he won. He was probably expecting you to give a grandiose speech on how you don't know what you're doing or how you just have really lucky guesses, but if there was one thing that you learned from people like him, it was that if they keep striking low, you strike lower.

Screw the high road, screw him undermining your talent, and screw people like him that thought they could get away with thinking their actions didn't have consequences.

You really saw him then, squinting slightly as you looked him up and down in the seat, the team around you remaining quiet as to remain listening to the rising tif. You could see right through him, see that he had some real parental issues, but had a overshadowing amount of loneliness surrounding his self, his mind, his body. It was vague, but it was there, and there is all you needed.

You leaned back as if to get comfortable, maintaining your eye contact. "When was the last time someone you cared about actually stayed in your life, Spencer?" You spoke nonchalantly, like you were discussing the weather.

You could feel the tangible tension that thrummed through the air from the two across from you at your words, and you knew you hit home. As to solidify your unanswered question, you saw a tiny twitch in his eyelid that responded more than any words could.

"Um Morgan? I think JJ called our names. We should go." Emily nudged the man and nodded to the back of the jet.

"What? No one has said anything. You're losing it, Prentiss."

"Derek, we're going." Her eyes went between you and Spencer to drive the point, and he finally picked it up after a second.

"Oh. Oh. Yeah, yeah I agree. JJ?" He called out. "We're coming!"

It was just the two of you now.

He broke eye contact with you after your words, and you moved in towards him as you lowered your voice to a whisper. "I see you for your inner workings, Reid. There's a reason I am good at what I do, and it is because I see you for how you see yourself. You do not want to make an enemy out of me."

His voice was caught in his throat for a second, mouth dropping slightly. He cleared his throat momentarily. "Are you threatening me?" Clear avoidance of your statement.

"No, Reid, I'm offering an olive branch. I suggest you take it." His silence prompted you further. "Besides your consistent digs at me, you're really good at what you do. Your brain quite literally runs a mile a minute, and my brain can see that. I am trying my best to chalk this all up to me being new, but I am really not appreciating all of this heat, it is extremely frustrating. You have your methods, I have mine. I'll give you some time to decide whether to accept this olive branch or not, but we would offer this team much more if you used those smarts of yours alongside mine, not against." Your chest was heaving slightly as the fire in your eyes blazed, but he finally got the message. "This will be the only time I'm offering this up." You turned away from him, needing a break.

You heard him shuffle and leave the seat next to you as you watched the clouds whiz by in the jet. It really sucked that he was cute too. All the adorable ones had to get you riled up, didn't they?

You felt a brief weight lift off of your shoulders as you heard Gideon speak to everyone on the plane about having the weekend off. Thank goodness.

That Monday you waltzed into the bullpen, a nice pep to your step after a break from everything. Iced drink in your hand, you set down your bag as you prepped yourself for the onslaught of paperwork awaiting you.

You had just gotten comfortable when you felt a tap on your shoulder and a familiar clear of a throat.

You swiveled in your chair, facing the tall man. "'Yes?"

"The oldest olive tree is known to be anywhere between two thousand to four thousand years old, but the specific age is currently being studied."

You took a sip of your drink as you looked up at him in confusion. "Good morning to you as well?"

He clenched his jaw quickly before continuing. "I''m saying yes. I accept the branch. It doesn't make sense to me and you infuriate me a little bit, but I want to work on it."

For the first time, but certainly not the last, you genuinely smiled at him.

And maybe he was losing all touches with reality, because he could feel his heart skip.

taglist: @alllriseabove @kitty-kei

#psych you out in the end #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #bau #criminal minds x reader #gender neutral reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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intimidating-fettuccine · 2 months

Text

Creeps during the eclipse

Considering this doesn't happen very often, I thought I'd take advantage of it :)

Listen, I'm gonna start this off by saying it; nobody is more excited about the eclipse than Slender. I feel like with how long he's been alive he gets really excited about being able to see another one, so he takes this event very seriously. I feel like with his money and abilities, he also takes everyone into the path of totality for this specific eclipse. I think he takes everyone to a spot on Earth to see it, instead of staying in the Underworld (I think it happens in the Underworld and Overworld too), but luckily in my canon if you have a pact with Slender and you're non-human, you can have a human form, so everyone gets to go.

I think Slender's brothers also probably tag along, and I think people like Toby's mom or anyone's partners would come as well, so everyone really makes a day out of it. I think they probably picked a nice spot, somewhere in the path of totality where not a lot of people will end up being. Slender and Tim are hard at work making a picnic for everyone so they all have plenty of food to eat, and of course they bring along some comfy blankets for everyone to lounge about on too. BEN probably makes sure to bring enough portable devices and chargers for himself and everyone else to do anything online or some gaming if they'd like to, and I feel like at his request there was a large portable gazebo brought as well for everyone to hang out under and get some shade while they wait for the eclipse to happen. They have enough glasses for everyone as well, and I feel like Slender makes sure that that everyone wears them otherwise he will, "Kick their asses into next week if they don't take care of themselves, and they can quote him on that".

I feel like they also probably brought a football and just a regular ball to throw around, and a soccer ball to play with as well. Jeff, Toby, and Natalie are probably the ones messing around and throwing stuff the most, and they're also the ones getting yelled at the most for accidentally knocking things over and bothering people. Everyone honestly has a blast out there together though, and once it gets close enough to the actual eclipse they all settle down in the gazebo until it's time to look at it. They've all got their glasses on, and pretty much everyone (especially Slender) is trying to record it or take pictures, and it's probably the most quiet everyone is for the entire day. At least, until it's about one second after the eclipse happens and everyone is cheering and yelling about it. I think they'd probably still spend time in that spot for a few hours, enjoying their time and hanging out, catching up on things with each other, and having a lot of fun. I think Slender also probably takes a lot of group photos, and individual ones of everyone just hanging out all day, and even a few during the total eclipse. He definitely adds them all to their own specific photo album to remember the day.

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saturnville · 6 months

Text

in the dirty south.

pairing: cowboy!coriolanus snow x black fem oc. warnings: old slang, sexual innuendo, flirting, sorta forbidden infatuation if you blink. shy!oc. content: while at a town fair with her family, delilah finds herself heavily infatuated with the new face in town. an: the people have spoken. cowboy!coriolanus is here. definitely called on my grandmother's southern roots for this so be prepared. I don't know who started cowboy!coriolanus, but all respect and credit to the individual who did. please let me know what y'all think of this!

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact!

Outside visiters were not a common occurance the city. The town was small and everybody knew everybody. One would be a fool to think anything that occured in their lives wouldn't be common knowledge to the inhabitants of the town. She wished she had the same type of delusion.

Once every few months, the mayor of the town found it suitable to host a fair. Something to ease the growing tensions between the families and to usher in a type of fun no one had seen since the rebellions took place.

She wouldn't say she didn't enjoy the fairs, but she knew there were other ways to spend her time aside from handing out freshly baked slices of poundcake and a cup of milk, courtesy of her mother and grandmother.

"Delilah! It's time to go, baby." Her mother's voice was rough like gravel yet soothing like silk. Everyone called her comparison foolish, as they didn't understand. But, until they felt the way her words calmed their soul like a newborn being rocked by its mother, they never would.

Delilah hollered back, "Comin', mama!" She stood in front of the mirror--dingy and stained from being passed down from her great-great-grandmother, and so short that she had to stand on her toes to see her full outfit. Her hands swiped over the fabric of her dress. It was new; her grandmother spent 3 weeks making it. A corset dress as bright as the dust that left her shoulders exposed to the kisses of the sun. She smiled at her reflection and pushed her hair away from her face. She shoved her feet into her boots and ran down the stairs.

Delilah questioned if they arrived late or if everyone else arrived early in anticipation. She bobbed and weaved through the sea of black and brown with a smile on her face. Small "pardon mes" and "excuse mes" poured from her lips like water as she attempted not to knock anyone over with her basket.

She followed her mother like a lost puppy to their assigned tent. Right next to Uncle Turner's barbeque restauraunt and the bathroom. Perfect, she said to herself. Lucille dropped the basket against the wood table and began plucking out the tablecloth and napkins.

"Lilah, I'm gon' grab some pitchers of water inside Turner's. I'll be back shortly." Mama's lips turned upward with a soft smile. Delilah nodded and continued her setting up the table.

Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead and her brown skin stung under the gaze of a burning sun. God, she hoped they wouldn't be outside for 10 hours like they were the last time. She couldn't sworn she melted like an ice cream cone within an hour.

Delilah hummed a church hymn to herself and tossed the basket behind her. She plopped down on the ragged bench and crossed her legs just as her mother taught her years ago, folded her hands over her lap, and watched as people walked passed.

People watching was one of her favorite pasttimes. To her left was a young girl riding on her wooden rocking horse, squealing with glee. To her right was a group of young boys tackling each other to the ground as their mother hollered for them to quit roughhousing. Delilah giggled.

She raised her eyes and jerked backward when she saw a group of men walking past. Four of them to be exact. Three were familiar faces: Elijah, Malachi, and Ezra. The boys whom she grew up with. They used to sleep in the same bed together when their mothers worked at the restaurant late at night. But, there was another one she'd never seen before.

He was unfamiliar. There were a few white boys sprinkled here and there, but in her town, it wasn't a frequent occurance. He seemed comfortable, too, with a boyish smirk on his face as he made the boys' head fly back with glee.

She could tell his hands were strong by the way they latched around the harness that allowed him to control the beautiful horse he rode upon. She looked around and saw other women eyeing the stranger. Who was he?

The man slid off the horse and tied the harness against a stake, and followed the men as they approached her mother's tent. His eyes were curious as they examined his surroundings. Delilah brushed the loose curls away from her face and smiled. "Hi, boys."

A series of disgruntled greetings came from them as they padded around the bench to engulf Delilah in a hug. The stranger stayed in front of her, eyes narrow.

"Where's Mama?" Elijah asked. His green eyes searched for the middle-aged woman.

"She's in Turner's getting some water. Might as well help her while you're lookin' for her," Delilah suggested with a shrug. She could feel icy eyes on her. "She'll mess around and drop them tryin' to do the most. Go catch up to her."

"Delilah," said Malachi. "This is Coriolanus. We, uh, we go back. Old friends. We're gon' help, Mama, but Lilah, don't scare him off." Delilah met his eyes. "I won't."

The boys shuffled off to the restaurant to find her mother, which left Delilah in the presence of Coriolanus. It was unique. She'd never heard anything like it. It sounded prestigious, elite.

He was handsome. Messy curls underneath his hat. Strong stature covered by a thick long-sleeve shirt and vest. Her gaze dropped to his belt. Brown with a holster that held, what she assumed was, a fully loaded pistol. And his boots, worn, dirty, and scuffed, just like hers. A country boy.

"Delilah. Nice to meet you, Mr. Coriolanus." Delilah extended her hand slowly. Coriolanus turned his head to the side. Her hands were slender and her nailbeds were painted a blood red. His tongue danced over his tooth.

"No need for that, darling. Nice to meet you," he replied, gently shaking her hand. His hand was much bigger in hers. Calloused like he wrestled animals in the wilderness. Strong like they'd hold her body upright with ease. His eye contact was strong and he could feel it melting her chocolate orbs away.

When he spoke, she noticed that his accent was nowhere as thick as her own, but a southern twang was laced in his words. Almost like he'd been taught. "Where are you from?" To keep herself from getting weak in the knees, she decided to start setting out the serving ware for the cake. Coriolanus' eyes followed her every action.

"Up north," he replied shortly. "Got in a bit of a mess. Decided to come down south for a while."

Delilah hummed and pulled the lid off the poundcake. Its glaze glistened underneath the sun. Just like her. Coriolanus chuckled to himself. "Do you like it?" She looked up at him through her eyelids.

She was so beautiful. He'd seen his fair share of pretty women since being placed in a new District. But she, Lord, this Delilah was something different. She was short in stature with strong shoulders and hips that were not well hidden beneath her dress. She had a cute smile that was covered by full, cherry colored lips. And her hair, so coily and full in a bun upon her head.

Coriolanus ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded. "I like it a lot."

Delilah detected the tone of his voice and fought the urge to smile. "I'm glad that's the case."

It was difficult for Delilah to keep her eyes off Coriolanus. Where he moved, her eyes followed. When he spoke to another woman and charmed her with his smile and bright eyes, she felt a twing of jealousy hit. Then, she'd call herself foolish for even being the slightest bit possessive over a man she'd only known for five hours.

She did her best to keep herself preoccupied with the poundcake in front of her. It worked for the most part, until the bench wobbled by the weight of another. Delilah turned to her left and found Coriolanus leaned against the side. "Can I join you, pretty?"

Pretty. Delilah's body warmed as she nodded. Coriolanus swung his leg over the side of the bench and took a seat. His clothed thigh brushed against her exposed once, causing her leg to jump slightly. He noticed, but chose not to say anything.

"You enjoying the fair?" Coriolanus asked.

"Yeah. It's always a fun time. Plus the food is great, too." She raised her fork that held a piece of cake on it. "Have you tried the poundcake? My mama makes the best ever."

Coriolanus shook his head. Delilah gathered a piece on the fork and held it out with the intention for him to pluck it off, but she was shocked when his full lips wrapped around the edge of the fork. His eyes were trained on hers. A gasp fell from her lips.

He hummed softly. "Delicious." He prepared to spur her on further, finding amusement in her disheveled state, but was called back by Elijah. "I'm comin'!. Save some for me later, darlin'. I'll see you later, alright?"

Delilah nodded and bit her lip. "Alright."

He threw her a wink and walked away. He was far from done with her.

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dewdropdinosaur · 2 months

Text

Original Sin

LUCIFER x (GN ACE) READER

Summary: Lucifer really likes you and so flirts with you constantly. You like him too...just not in the way he thinks

Warnings: I am not asexual so I asked my ace friend for help on this but please let me know(kindly) if I need to change anything in order to more accurately represent the ace community

I can't remember who requested this - so if you did please comment below and I will tag you!

REQUESTS OPEN

In the bustling streets of Hell, where chaos and debauchery is always afoot, Lucifer Morningstar, the charismatic and mischievous ruler, was a force to be reckoned with. With his devilish charm and striking yet..short presence, he commanded the attention of demons wherever he went. But amidst the chaos, there was one individual who seemed immune to his advances—Y/N.

Y/N was unlike anyone Lucifer had ever encountered. They possessed a quiet demeanor that intrigued him, a calm amidst the storm of Hell's insanity. Despite his best efforts to charm them with his best sinful lines and flirtatious looks, Y/N remained seemingly unaffected, an imaginary barrier shielding them from Lucifer's flirtatious antics. Y/N's innocence and purity amidst the sea of sinners intrigued Lucifer, and he found himself drawn to them in a way he couldn't quite explain.

Yet, despite their differences, Y/N found themselves drawn to Lucifer in a way they couldn't put their finger on. His wit, his confidence, his undeniable allure—it all fascinated them, even if they didn't fully understand their own feelings. Despite Y/N's sexuality or lack thereof (which was something they were still coming to terms with), they couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement whenever Lucifer flashed them one of his signature smirks or delivered a smooth line their way. They admired his confidence and charisma from afar, secretly harboring feelings for the devilishly handsome demon.

As days turned into weeks, Lucifer's advances grew bolder, much to Y/N's confusion and internal turmoil. They found themselves torn between their growing romantic affection for Lucifer and their uncertainty about how to navigate their asexuality in a world where desire and passion ran rampant and was ruled by the original sin himself! They enjoyed his company immensely, relishing in the moments they spent together that weren’t full of his attempts. Those quiet moments when he would let down the persona and be the kind, caring, and intelligent fallen angel. But still, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort whenever Lucifer's flirtation veered into more intimate territory.

One fateful evening, as Y/N found themselves alone with Lucifer in the opulent lobby of Hazbin Hotel, the demon king seized the opportunity to make his feelings known in the only way he knew how - more flirting.

"Ah, my dear Y/N," Lucifer purred, his voice dripping with charm as he leaned in closer. "You've been on my mind quite a lot lately.~"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Lucifer's devilish grin, their cheeks flushing with a mixture of excited apprehension. "Oh, um, h-hi Lucifer," they stammered, their voice barely above a whisper.

Sensing Y/N's unease, Lucifer softened his expression, his eyes reflecting real concern as he reached out to gently cup their cheek. "Is something wrong Y/N? You seem...distant. Oh shit…did I make you uncomfortable?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their heart pounding in their chest as they prepared to reveal their truth to Lucifer. Taking a deep breath, they met his gaze, searching for any sign of judgment or rejection. But all they found was genuine curiosity and concern reflected in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard, their mind racing as they searched for the right words to express themselves.

"I...I like you, Lucifer," they confessed, their voice trembling slightly. "But...I'm not like everyone else here. I...I don't feel...desire you the same way they do."

A flicker of understanding crossed Lucifer's features as he processed Y/N's words. Despite his reputation as the literal embodiment of sin and temptation, he was no stranger to the complexities of human emotion and nature.

"Ah, I see," Lucifer murmured, his tone gentle as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from Y/N's face. He lowered his voice to a calm purr as he gave them some space.

Lucifer's expression softened, a genuine curiosity replacing his usual playful demeanor. "I do believe the term is asexual?" he repeated, his tone gentle as he sought to understand.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a wave of relief washing over them at Lucifer's understanding. "Y-yes," they whispered, feeling a weight lift off their shoulders as they finally spoke their truth aloud.

With a tender smile, Lucifer reached out to take Y/N's hand in his own, his touch surprisingly comforting despite the fiery aura that surrounded him. "There's nothing wrong with that, my dear," he reassured them. "You're perfect just the way you are."

With a grin and a twirl of his cane, Lucifer plopped down on a lush chair beside Y/N.

"Tell me more, my dear. I want to understand."

And so, Y/N found themselves explaining their asexuality to Lucifer, revealing the complexities of their identity and the emotions that accompanied it. To their surprise, Lucifer listened attentively and asked questions when appropriate, his curiosity evolving into genuine empathy.

As Y/N poured their heart out to him, Lucifer's admiration for them only grew. In that moment, he realized that their connection transcended mere physical attraction—it was rooted in something deeper, something far more meaningful.

“Thank you for trusting me with this knowledge my dear, I am very grateful you told me! But not onto important matters…what color should your rubber duck shirt be now? Would you like it to be your pride flag? OOooo that would be so FUN!”

In that moment, Y/N felt a wave of warmth wash over them, their fears and uncertainties melting away in the presence of Lucifer's understanding. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that their bond was stronger than any fleeting desire—it was built on a foundation of trust, acceptance, and unconditional love. All of Hell did agree, they did make the cutest couple in the end carrying those twinning pride flag rubber ducks around.

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blueaetherr · 6 months

Text

future histories

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): angst, gotg vol 3 inspired [peter q. & gamora]

summary: the one where past lovers consider life beyond their tragic circumstances

author's note: this is part 2 to this imagine which i recommend reading before this one. i'm currently re-reading the book that inspired part 1 (the sun is also a star by nicola yoon), which further inspired me to write this. i also haven't written in time so forgive me for any mistakes that may be here.

tag(s): @aechii

now playing: the miseducation of lauryn hill by ms. lauryn hill

Under the mature night sky, surrounded by the stars and the comfort of the dark, a celebration was underway—an engagement party. Somewhere rural and hidden by trees standing tall and all, there was a house hosting the party of the couple-to-be in the coming weeks. The fiancé, the fiancée, bridesmaids, groomsmen and beyond in attendance.

It was all wonderful, from the presence of everyone, the party atmosphere, Party Girls floating within and beyond the mansion. The night was set in motion and wouldn't stop for anyone until the early morning.

Still, two individuals decided to stray away. And there—wherever they wandered away to—they chose to remain in their own world, oblivious to everything else around them.

"You can't be serious, Jude!" Y/N shook her head and glanced at her friend with a pointed look. Watch your words kinda look. "Say that shit again. I dare you."

It was quiet for a moment before Jude decided to tune in again, shrugging with a smile growing on his face. "A straw has two holes."

Her face contorted, disgust evident even to the blind. "It has one."

Jude hung his head back as he let out a laugh, his laughter trailing into the night sky. Folding his arms, he asked, "You know two things can be true at the same time?" The straw debate was something that the two had been having for a few years. And yet despite his strong arguments and the backing of friends, Jude just couldn't get Y/N to be in the slightest way considerate of his side of the debate.

"And that's completely fine," she said, clasping her hands together. She was comfortable in her place and in her stance. "Just not when I make an argument for something. And I stand by what I believe."

"Okay, whatever you say," Jude raised his arms up in laughter, "Whatever you say, Y/N."

Debating with Y/N was something he always found himself enjoying. Not because he enjoyed the act of debating or because he would aim to propose an outstanding argument. It was more simply because he enjoyed watching Y/N debate, even if it was against him. Always was she animated in discussion, pushing 'til the end to prove a point that may not be entirely true. If she could somehow prove that left was actually right, then Jude would follow behind her and declare left as right.

After walking around the private grounds for some time, Y/N and Jude decided to rest and settled on a low wall. There, they were able to admire the manor house scenery. A location large and luxurious in presentation with its gardens, lakes and grass trimmed to perfection. Still, it remained cosy and informal with the absence of public bodies around; one could be unrestricted and alone with the infinite square feet that were free to wonder.

Jude and Y/N experienced both respectively, the loneliness over the freedom. Outdoors they were together alone, only accompanied by the displays of nature around them. Away from the celebration of the engaged couple, away from secret activities of the night, away and distant from the wonders that this ever manor had to offer. And when that realisation dawned upon the two everything from their talk to their moods fell.

Y/N sighed, her posture faltering a bit. "What are we doing out here?" After all, it was Jude who invited her to stray away from the party. One minute she was in the middle of a game with her friends and the next Jude was taking her away with no explanation, just pace.

Jude took her hand in his and glanced at her with a playful look. "Is it so bad that I want to get to know my bridesmaid?" Weirdly, everyone thought it would be the perfect idea to pair Jude and Y/N as a groomsman and bridesmaid together.

"Yes," Y/N scoffed out a laugh, removing her hand from his grasp. "I know a lot about you and I don't think I want to start learning more."

"That's fair, I guess," he huffed out a small laugh. But because he believed that what she said was wholefully true; he knew that other people shared her opinion so I guess that's where he had to agree. Jude then sobered up from his laughter, "I just wanted to talk to you."

Rubbing her hands together, she blew out a small breath as she looked around the vacant outdoor area. "And we have to do that outside?" The night weather wasn't too bad, though it didn't beat wanting to be indoors.

He sucked in a small breath as he rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's just... I'm not tryna be inside right now. I mean..."

She meant to ask what Jude was talking about, but then she heard it. I Can't Help Falling in Love was playing, within and beyond the mansion. And Y/N could imagine the scenes inside. Everyone pushing the engaged couple to have yet another dance, ungrateful yet entertaining steps and twirls, aspiring partners taking the leap of faith with a dance that would probably lead to something more later down the line, lively dances and delight across the board.

Whatever purpose there was to dance—to sway delicately across the dancefloor, to lose oneself in the song, to hold wild thoughts regarding romance—nonetheless, it brought everything to life even if it wasn't there before. Romance, partnership, and lasting promises, all shared between two individuals. Every two individuals except for Y/N and Jude.

It was hard for them. Even though they felt nothing for each other, even though they could no longer feel anything for one another (and weren't actively seeking anything from each other), it still remained hard and unfair to be surrounded by all things love and ideal romance that reminded them that their relationship didn't work, that they themselves weren't deserving of a functional, lasting relationship.

Jude and Y/N were happy for the engagement of their friends, and they would continue to wish them the best until their final days. But being bombarded by all these things—being a groomsman and bridesmaid, everyone seemingly being in current or aspiring relationships—with their history together, one that they couldn't bring themselves to remember or hold onto in any way, witnessing their friends in the relationship that they failed to hold onto for reasons beyond them... it was overwhelming simply being at the engagement party.

"And I just want to talk to you without other people being around... without them judging us." It was weird for Jude. Being a football player meant eyes were constantly on him. He was used to it. Now people were giving him attention over his previous relationship and couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of unease off his person.

Y/N knew Jude's thoughts were real and justified. She heard the whispers speaking on her and Jude. From the wedding rehearsals to the engagement party. Both positive and negative remarks; wondering how they couldn't understand why the two broke up, speaking on why the reason the exes broke up didn't make much sense. That Y/N and Jude looked together, and that they should make up and get together for the sake of it.

In other words, the reason for Jude and Y/N breaking up wasn't valid enough in everyone's eyes.

She let her eyes trail on her legs as they swang over the ground. "It's— it's like people care more about our relationship than we do." She said it like it was a wonder, but Y/N knew well that that was just the reality of things.

"Don't even get me started with that," Jude shook his head before scoffing. "I get asked about our relationship—about you—a lot by friends and family. I mean I don't mind, it's whatever, you know? I expect now. But sometimes it's just too much. And every conversation is the same. How is Y/N? You guys still friends? I think you two still have a chance together. You should definitely ask her out."

"And I'm always polite with it and say, Y/N is fine. Yes, we're still friends I guess. Well, I don't know about that. We haven't talked about that. I hear what you're saying, but I'm not too sure about that. Polite with it. Then they'll ask me the same questions again or ask my parents. It's almost like... like..."

"Like they don't trust our judgements?" Even though she was never present for any of those conversations, Y/N and Jude shared similar experiences post-relationship. The questions, the questions repeated over and over again, the patience that came with having to deal with those repeated questions. There was something so frustrating about having to convince people that your past relationship would remain in the past with no hope of reviving it ever again.

Not only because they didn't want to; the moon and the stars just wouldn't allow it.

"Exactly that. It's annoying 'cause everyone wants me to do something I just can't do anymore... something I can't remember doing. Like," Jude inhaled deeply as he rubbed his hands over his face. He never really was good with his words. "There's something there but it's beyond me. I could love you but I just can't. Not because I don't want to, but it's... every time I want to step forward I'm pushed back. Like it's not my fault and it's not our fault either."

There were grounds as to why Jude disliked dwelling on their relationship. Some were evident, others not so much; one being that the simple thought of the relationship gave him false hope.

In truth, he was a hopeless romantic. He loved the idea of love in all of its forms. By offering and receiving, perhaps to and from his family, friends or anyone who could reciprocate it. Like the average person, it made him feel happy in many possible ways. And when he was consumed in all that love—when he was consumed in happiness—he was more approachable and open to everyone's questions about his past relationship with Y/N. That's where the hope fell over him every single time.

Maybe there's still something between me and Y/N. Maybe we did overreact like everyone is saying. We didn't try hard enough to fix our relationship. So when he was no longer so consumed in his hopeful thoughts, Jude would tell himself let's try again.

But then he would simply look at Y/N and reality would quickly pull him out of his thoughts. No.

Jude could try to find the humour in Y/N's words, he could try to admire Y/N for her beauty and flaws, he could try to remain consumed in everyone's delusions about his past relationship, he could try to indulge in their past romance through the words of his mom. Jude could try anything, yet none of it would change the fact that everything he ever felt for Y/N was compromised. Anything he would ever feel for her would be compromised.

He could no longer feel anything for her. She could no longer feel anything for him. The possibility of feeling anything held no strength to exist, and that realisation always left Jude devastated. They were a lost cause. We're never getting back together, and he just had to get over it.

But that was difficult when everyone would remind him of their relationship. So he was stuck in this cycle of false hope, where he couldn't find it in himself to move on. Truthfully, Jude was unsure if he would ever be getting out of it any time soon.

"It's not our fault. It never was," she said, moving her hand in small rotation on his back to let Jude fall into her touch. All Y/N could do was sit by Jude and comfort him. In fact, all they could do was comfort one another. Because everything Jude felt, everything he couldn't feel, she was right there with him. This would be a soft moment of solace if the circumstances weren't so terrible.

Yet here they were, outside all miserable and devastated by their never-changing circumstances in a scenery so whole and picturesque. While everyone was partying—celebrating and enjoying the declaration of love of the engaged couple, dancing in rightful and infinite pairs—Jude and Y/N could only share some physical attachment knowing that was all one could offer the other. They were strangers to romantic love, so caught up in this insane cycle of misfortune.

"It drains me having to think about it every day," Jude exhaled as he sat up. Having those conversations only came with one benefit; he could exhale everything he had pented up before. "That's why I just want to move on from everything, you know? It's been months since we broke up. Like why is everyone else so hopeful about us than us?"

"If only I could tell you. You'd think they would start asking whether we're both seeing other people by now." Y/N tilted her head in thought. Caught up in her relationship and everyone's reminders of its existence, she had the tendency to forget that she existed beyond Jude. Turning to him, she wondered, "Are you seeing someone right now?"

Jude scoffed out a small laugh as he shook his head slightly. He knew Y/N met well, he did. But he did feel like the answer was evident. I'm a mess, of course not. "Do you really think I would be seeing someone if I'm all in my feelings right now?"

"Just wondering, honey."

Seeing the unspoken apology in her eyes, Jude let his person falter a bit. "Not really, no." Since Y/N the most he could entertain when it came to girls was the talking stage and he would never go beyond that.

Losing the ability to love Y/N kinda left Jude a bit scarred. According to the delicate words of his mom, he and Y/N were once the perfect relationship, a relationship where she fell but he fell harder. But everyone knew how that ended. The fear of a new relationship ending exactly like his and Y/N's, the fear of possibly not being able to love, both ultimately shied Jude away from actively putting in the effort of pursuing girls he might find interest in. "I try, I do. But it's just a lot all at once."

"I think that might be the best way of moving on," Y/N suggested, "Maybe we won't be caught up thinking about each other if we're thinking about other people. It's hard, but it takes time. When you get there, you get there."

He nodded slightly. He wasn't in total agreement with Y/N but he trusted her judgement. "Yeah, maybe. Wait," Jude paused in his place before his eyes grew wide. "Why are you saying it like that?" Suddenly, it dawned on Jude. Y/N was speaking from experience. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Jude."

"Wait, why didn't you tell me before?"

"Just listen to me, Jude—"

"I literally dragged you out here. I don't want him to think I'm making a move—"

"Jude!" Her voice, firm rather than harsh, managed to reach his ears which stopped Jude from his ranting. Unknown to both of them, that was the same voice she had used to resolve problems during their relationship. When she was sure she had Jude's attention, she continued, "I'm not seeing anyone right now. I've just recently become open to it. That's all."

Jude's glance tracked around before returning to the person beside him. "So you're looking to get into a relationship?"

"Am I actively pursuing one? No. But I won't intervene if it comes my way." Y/N was once like Jude when it came to speaking to a potential partner. She was distant and denied guys when they tried to reach out over her fears of her relationship with Jude repeating itself. But over time her thoughts have eased and even though she wasn't exactly there yet, there was some noticeable progress to highlight. She was no longer entirely tied down to Jude.

She adjusted her sitting position. The wall they were sitting on wasn't the most comfortable. "I don't know about you, but I don't want us to be the one thing that people know us for. Like sure we ended on confusing terms according to everyone else, but what can we do? I mean it was out of our hands even before we met. I don't want to be caught up over it forever. We have to find ourselves moving away from all of that somehow."

Y/N learned a lot from her relationship with Jude. They were never truly a real match and they were invalid on many levels. Others could remember their relationship in ways she couldn't, to the point she could only dream of something so perfect and that left her dejected every time.

But moving forward she wanted things to change where she could. The perception others held of her and Jude would remain the same until time deemed otherwise. What she could change, what she could control were her thoughts and actions. Now she could think about Jude and tell herself that everything happens for a reason, that they were an unfortunate case but things happen, that it was okay for her to move forward by herself or with someone else.

She couldn't be so attached to Jude knowing there never was a future for them together in the first place.

"I get it," Jude frowned as he nodded along to her words. Logical and practical. He couldn't find himself arguing against them. He took in a small breath and offered Y/N a small smile. "Well, I'm... I'm happy for you."

"Oh yeah?" Y/N grinned though it was small and unsure. After all, she knew Jude was the more emotional one between the two. She wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't been so open to her advice.

The thing is though, Jude was happy for Y/N, truly. Or, at least for the most part. Where he wasn't was simply just his current fears. His fears of being stuck in one place forever. His fears of being left behind. His fears of not being able to relate with Y/N on their unique experience of falling out together. Fears that if he lost Y/N then he would have no one to lean on, that he would have no one.

But hearing her story—something full of hope, clarity and purpose for something new—that's where he was happy. Maybe being a hopeless romantic wasn't such a dumb idea to have; he just had to shift his direction of thought and look forward to their future histories, separate or together.

Once again Jude offered Y/N a smile, one wide, kind and truthful. "Of course," he said as he brought her into a side hug, the two swaying softly in tune with the timid breeze. "That's all I can be for you."

Pulling away, Y/N asked, "You sure? I hope I didn't say anything in a way that would upset you. I just don't want us to bond over such depressing shit all the time." She had a feeling that those conversations would come to an end sooner or later.

"Yeah, you're right," Jude sighed with a nod, almost reassuring himself that everything would be okay moving forward. His eyes drifted toward the mansion where everything still remained lively. The discomfort was still there observing the scene, though he felt it diminish—and it would continue to falter with time. I'll be okay. "I get it and I meant when I said that I'm happy for you. I want that for myself too. It's actually not all that bad."

"Why do you say that?"

"You didn't hear this from me but apparently... I once promised you that I'd be the first person to walk you up and down the aisle."

And that was the last time Jude looked back at their relationship through his mom.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurbs #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x black!reader #black!reader #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingam fluff #jude bellingham angst #football imagines #football fanfiction #football blurbs #football oneshots

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upsidedownsmore · 4 months

Text

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

#free wf pa #warframe #gauss prime #my art #warframe gauss prime #UpsideDownSmore's art #warframe fanart #gauss prime access #wf tag #wf #warframe gauss #can't believe i can do one of these now woah #still absolutely surreal #probably way too much effort for this lol #but it was good practice at least and i'm really happy with the result!#praying this works i've spent too long cobbling this together lol #UpsideDownSmore's free wf pa's

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roo-bastmoon · 8 months

Text

So privacy has been violated OR...

... a smear campaign has begun.

Let's just get this new dating scandal out of the way so we can get back to buying and streaming...

Listen, I don't share unofficial content, but by now everyone in this tag knows there's a video going around that's supposed to be of JK in his apartment with Bam, walking around back-hugging and perhaps kissing a girl. Folks say there's the same couch, same wall panel, and a mood lamp.

I'm side-eyeing this because it's super grainy footage, the windows are different, the wall panel seems to be in different places in the two videos, the guy is shorter than the girl, and he's wearing a mask indoors. Plus, the account that dropped the videos supposedly posted then promptly closed up shop, which seems like they had the intention for deliberate sabotage instead of clout chasing as a sasaeng.

But people say the apartment set up seems really similar and the man has a similar hairstyle to what JK had in the beginning of 2023. So I guess it's Schrodinger's cat at this point.

(Isn't it curious that apartment-related scandals seem to happen on the day new content drops? Hmm... I digress.)

Look... If Jungkook (or Jimin) ends up dating someone else, I'm still going to support them as individuals. I'll be sad of course, because Jikook had AMAZING chemistry and I was really rooting for them to be together forever and all... but, I want them to be happy and fulfilled more than I want them to fit into any fantasy or ideas of my own.

That being said: at this very moment, half of Jimin's insta feed is about Jungkook. Most of Jungkook's lives for 2023 have JK mentioning Jimin, or even being totally focused on Jimin. There's years of super duper sus history between them. Right up to and including yesterday, where Jimin very heavily implied they are sharing Chuseok together.

It feels really weird to me that Jimin would want to tie JK's hair back neatly, call JK baby, beg JK to stay longer at his rehearsal, and joke that he can handle seeing JK naked -- but JK can't come over to shower and visit b/c Jimin says he just isn't that easy... if JK were in a relationship with someone else.

It also feels really weird to me that JK would light up like a super nova any time Jimin commented on his lives, would beg Jimin to hang out, would sing all of Jimin's songs and memorize Jimin's interview content, would travel with Jimin for his debut, then roll around naked in bed grinning and blushing while flirting with Jimin on live... if JK were in a relationship with someone else.

That would make Jungkook kind of a shitty boyfriend and Jimin kind of a shitty friend.

I know Jungkook is cultivating this cool guy/ladies man image right now and that is kinda baffling. I know friends can play-flirt, too... but to do all that on lives, after all their history together, knowing what half of Korea and ARMY thinks? Hm.

That's not "fanservice;" that's really toeing the line of queerbaiting. And it's really hard for me to imagine Jimin or Jungkook doing something like that. Jimin said he hates fake bromance stuff. (I guess anything is possible. It's a new chapter, after all. Maybe it's par for the course in idol-world.)

Hey, maybe Jikook had an amicable break up but are still really close and are fine teasing each other? Maybe they always liked to flirt but never were together? Maybe I've been reading it all wrong this whole time? Or maybe this is a bullshit video?

Whatever the reality is, I'm prepared to acknowledge it. At any time.

I'm not in a cult. I don't have to convince myself of anything. Jikook's behavior had made me think Jikook were in a relationship. If JK is dating someone else now? Okay then. I will just stop posting Jikook content and continue to help OT7 and celebrate my bias with all my heart.

No need for elaborate conspiracy theories or coping histrionics. If JK is in his Loving Women Era, good for him. Go with god, my brother. (Personally, I'd never recover from losing my chance to be with Thee Park Jimin, but that's me!)

But something about this just doesn't quite feel right. I wonder if he'll address it at all, like he did when folks filmed him in his gym or sent food to his home? Because if this is somehow real, it's a HORRIBLE invasion of privacy; home is supposed to be a safe place, and stalkers are scary.

And if it's not real, then someone is going to an AWFUL lot of trouble to overshadow Jungkook's release and upcoming album and that is unhinged. The kind of trouble that reminds me of apartment break-ins and tampered mail.

In any case, like I said: I'm ready to accept whatever the reality is, once the reality becomes clear.

I really love Jungkook. I really love Jimin. I really love BTS. They were there for me at the darkest, lowest point in my life. So whether I was right or wrong about Jikook, it doesn't really matter. In the end, I support them as far as I can.

But also, I sorta think this video may just be bullshit. So let's let them have their privacy, and focus instead on voting for Jimin and buying and streaming for JK instead, hmm? Eventually the truth will come to light.

No matter what happens, let's behave in a way that would make Jimin and Jungkook proud.

Love, Roo

#jikook #koomin

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sg-l · 8 months

Note

👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻

What's his way of showing you affection in this new cursed form? We talked about how he'd be a lap dog but like....is he just laying on top of you from time to time bc he loves you and needs to see your face??

Elaborate for the peeps in the back ☺️

- 🦦

・curse!Satoru Gojo Headcanons・

a/n・I'm so bad at formulating headcanons you know this?? also how did you find an otter emoji?? Fandom・Jujutsu Kaisen Character(s)・Satoru Gojo Tags・sloppy headcanons, curse!Gojo AU, fluff, unedited

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

curse!Gojo is...enormous

lets just get the physical implications of cursing the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world because curse!Gojo is...a lot

both in personality as well as sheer size and monstrous appearance

think...cursed Howl Pendragon, meets gluttonous No Face's limbs, owlbeast Eda Clawthorn shape with owlbeast Lilth Clawthron color palette and retractable neck

and I fully headcanon him as having no physical appearance of eyes/nose etc but a black banding around where his eyes should be and the rest of his faceless head is a very large un-hingable jaw with the rest of his face being "splashed" in white before transitioning to the bulk of his dark body

ok ok ok enough about the way the curse looks; and more about the way he acts!

like most cursed souls curse!Gojo is dangerously obsessed with you

you are his only purpose in life as well as the only thing tying him to a physical "life" and his animal instinct will not let that bond be broken no matter the cost

curse!Gojo basically feels no pain and it's scarier to see in action than it is to just think he's a stubborn fighter

he is insanely affectionate; to the point it's smothering

ideally he'd be sealed away in a cursed object but nothing can hold all of him (to no one's surprise)

so that being said curse!Gojo does at time have the annoying nuances of a shikigami or a familiar but make it 1000x worse

giant lap dog 🤝 pissy cat 🤝 needy brat

curse!Gojo likes to show his affection by planting himself right behind you and more times than not laying a part of his grotesques form on you

no idea about his actual size nor would he care if you tried to explain it to him because he just won't listen

curse!Gojo wants to be touching you at some point all the time or else he does get practically...antsy

not a good idea for him to be restless, it's in everyone's best interest for curse!Gojo to remain calm as long as possible

brings you dead curses and to no one surprise, likes to play with them! he will make it a point to have you watch him disembody things.

People, curses, animals...the only thing curse!Gojo will not touch is young individuals

that's a post for later

his ideal way to have your attention is to absolutely maul your target into a pulp right in front of you and frankly there's no other way for him to kill besides over the top right in front of you

on a less gruesome note, yes, he insists on sleeping with you

curse!Gojo thankfully has very little intention of suffocating you so he's happy to have you lay on top of him or curls up around you as the biggest spoon in the world

regretfully curse!Gojo does lick and drool when overtly excited and talks in the fastest string of broken sentences any being could

you get real good at understanding the gibberish don't worry

curse!Gojo loves "self care" and by that it means he loves having you hold his face, pick things out of his teeth, booping his non existent nose and giving him forehead kisses

exceptionally fond of carrying you and pouts when you don't let him hold you 24/7

and the most horrifying thing curse!Gojo loves to show his affection is...play wrestling

don't worry he basically just wants to engulf you in a hug and roll around with you but it can be off putting to those who are not familiar with either of you two yet

#wifey 🦦 ♡#idk that's the tag you get lol but guess who's not shutting up about curse!Gojo !!!#its me im not shutting up about it #curse!gojo au #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

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tinycozycomfort · 9 months

Text

rest in the cup of my palms (part two)

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x art student f!reader

chapter two: do you feel it, too?

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

series summary: you went back to school to find out who you are—to make another leap in the hope of self discovery. when you finally find that first glimpse of yourself, it’s in someone else. what happens when the mirror tries to pull you in? or you’re everything joel could’ve hoped to find. he doesn’t let go easily.

chapter summary: you fight hard to keep old habits at bay. joel falls into his head first.

warnings/tags: no outbreak, no use of y/n, (for everything) -> mutual pining!, possessive behavior, smut (w individual tags to come), ellie is joel's daughter, ellie and reader attend the same university but reader is in post-grad, age gap (joel is late 40s, reader is not), alternating pov, slow-ish burn / (for this chapter) -> semi-public dry humping, kissing, mentions/fantasies of p in v sex, possessive thoughts, no one is drunk but everyone blames the wine, joel miller loves his kid!

word count: 5.3k

rating: explicit (18+ only! mdni)

A/N: i'm in shambles over the response to the first chapter, this series is my baby and it means so much that you guys liked it. thank you a million times for reading!

read on ao3 / main masterlist

“The wait begins as soon as I wake up. There is never any “after”. Life stops from the moment he rings the doorbell and enters.”

Annie Ernaux - Getting Lost

───────

Joel hasn’t touched the plastic tube since he brought it home last week.

It’s become something he has to hide from, a nagging thought that pulls at his pant-leg like a child, clawing for his attention—open me, open me. Over and over he hears it, while in the office or cooking dinner or folding the wash, a whisper that begs him to reach in and claim his prize. When he’s really tired, brain damp from the days he has to work, the voice pours into something smoother, and suddenly it's that pretty girl—the one who’d made the thing—asking for the same; to be peeled back and stretched wide for him, cunt and heart and all.

He finds himself losing a lot of very real time in the fantasy, chunks of his life spooned out to make room.

The compulsion isn’t unfamiliar; it’s one that Joel thinks has something to do with his protective nature—or maybe that he’s seen enough living through the filters of hurt and mistrust—that makes him cling to the things he finds precious.

It traces back as far as the girls in grade school, when they would bring him little home-made valentines and wave him kisses first stamped onto open palms. He grew enamored with them, picking them flowers and scribbling symbols of promise in their note-books—the very beginnings of his acts of service. His heart would swell with it, a cartoonish thing, growing and pumping until he could keel over to one side from the size. He chased it in those early years, back somewhere between the brothering and fathering, moving through many someones he could fawn over, easing his need to possess.

He can feel the need rising now, for the first time in too long, his body hurtling itself towards the ledge of something scarier, and he welcomes it. His hands itch for it, for the kind of love with teeth, that bites and tears into the edges of a substance much meatier, providing a place for the points to pierce and hold. He won’t call it what it really is, prefering to stomp out the whisper that warns him of its arrival—obsession. He likes to use less severe terms: thoughtful, involved, fascinated.

Knowing better in his age, he tries at least to be realistic during waking hours, and around Ellie, reminding himself that he has a hard time stepping down when he builds his hope high enough. He moves instead to just dreaming about you—in little tidbits and at guest-star capacity—to tide himself over until the week rolls back around.

Now, on a new Monday, he lets his daughter head off to class before he allows himself the privilege of unwrapping his reward.

He fishes around in the back of the hallway closet where he hid the case, retreating to his room to finally have his time alone with the creature he’d made of the object, letting it free from its cage.

He pops off the cardboard top of the roll, pulling the drawing out with the very tips of his fingers to not smudge something on accident. The sound of it sliding out sets his skin alight—this gift is one he asked for, but it feels like it was given to him all the same. Sharing a piece of you with him so freely, he feels special.

He’s gotten used to seeing himself around the house, Ellie’s ever-growing library of renditions of him are fixed to the fridge by mis-matched magnets and framed in little glass panels in her room. It leans on the side of betrayal to have someone else’s version of him up, but he just wants to see it—if it’s as intense as he remembers it. As different.

His knuckle follows the curl of the paper to flatten the image, tacking it up to the wall with painter’s tape to avoid damaging the surface, like his daughter taught him. Joel sits on the corner of his bed and feels a hot wave of emotion fill his chest.

He looks hopeful. It’s a garment he’s never seen himself wear. He’s soft and shy and child-like, face penciled in with detail that reads like a well-worn novel, bending and twisting to the curve of his expression. It’s a finely crafted summary. It’s guide-lines. It’s instructions, the very important parts of him spelled out in bold, black charcoal, with the gray shades of his complexion filling in the gaps.

Was he that easy to pick apart?

He’d seen some of the other drawings, the way everyone else had chosen to capture solely his pose, perfectly articulating the crook of his elbow or the network of muscle under the skin of his calf.

But you’d chosen to show him.

Something about it looks so familiar, enough to bring forward a memory of the conversation that had him feeling the briefest pass of deja vu—of you glancing down at the ground, quieted maybe by his proximity or his compliments; bashful.

He walks out into the living room where Ellie keeps her sketchbook, the one with all the references. He thumbs through it—she’s given him permission to see this one—and flips to the page he remembers watching her use last week. And when he sees it, he feels like he’s going to faint.

It was you.

That was your face his daughter had been so beautifully replicating. Upon examining the fragmented portrait, he sees a striking resemblance to the one you’d made of him. They’re the same. Not the likeness, of course, but the visage. You knew what he felt like—had felt it yourself.

He already knew you, before you’d even spoken a word to each other. He admits that Ellie was only capable of piecing together so much of you, and even with the extra bits he’d caught in your brief meeting, he feels like he’s missing out. He wants to see the whole picture. You, in totality.

When he arrives at the school building, he’s overtaken with a wash of what he thinks might be stage-fright. It makes him feel sick, stomach rolling with an embarrassment that scorches like youth—fight low and flight high—and his body starts to feel sore with the effort it takes to keep himself from fidgeting.

Ellie’s teacher meets him in the hallway and passes him his slip, and he hums his way down to the bathroom to undress, admittedly working up the courage to confront you.

As he enters the classroom, his excitement bottoms out. You’re not there. He keeps sweeping the room with his eyes, hoping you somehow had been hidden amongst the other bodies. He tries to sell himself the idea that you’re just in the bathroom, or on a break or late, but the wooden bench you’d sat in last week is obviously untouched.

He clambers onto the stool, trying to replicate his pose from the previous lesson, much more uncomfortable now that he has nothing to distract him. The two hours are painful, and he finds himself counting seconds to fill the minutes in increments of ten until he can leave.

His back hurts when he stands.

On his way out, the blonde woman hands him a little flier, two pieces of neon copy paper glued together to make a double-sided image, advertising the group show this coming Friday. Ellie has already reminded him more times than he can count, but he takes it from the woman with the best smile he can muster, slipping out the door in a stride he’s hoping doesn’t come across as wounded.

───────

The on-campus gallery is what someone a lot kinder than Joel would call cozy—a tight, short chamber with no windows and a single entrance, like a trap.

He’s too keyed-up to be kind. He feels like nitpicking.

The metal door at the head must have been an afterthought, kicking back into the frame loudly every time someone walks through, nothing implemented to catch it. A continuous beam of fluorescent lighting wraps around the room in an all-encompassing spotlight, cooking the smell of fresh paint off the wall. It reminds him of picture day, or apartment hunting or something else equally unpleasant.

He was always going to come to this, because he can’t imagine a version of himself who wouldn’t support his daughter, but he’s not happy about it, and he’s starting to feel dizzy from the too-fast swirl of anxiety in his stomach.

Ellie had removed herself from his side the moment they made it into the building in search of her friends, with just a squeeze of his forearm and an ‘I’ll introduce you later’ left in her wake. He’s clung tightly to the wall ever since, making his way around the room to look at all the drawings, again and again and again until he feels like he’s on a track.

Discomfort is a factor, but most of his indignation has to do with not seeing you in class—pointed at himself for the absurdity of his expectations—the voice in his head taking a bitter turn. Were you avoiding him? Would you not attend this, either? Did he do something wrong? His mind rambles on as he fiddles with his imitation cocktail glass, the shiny slip of plastic sticking to his fingers. There’s still a generous portion of what has to be five-dollar wine pooled at the bottom, bitter and opaque enough to stain. The woman who poured it for him did so nearly to the top, maybe sympathetically, disregarding that there was money obviously trying to be saved—deeming his cause a worthy one. He doesn’t even want it, really, nauseous at the idea of actually finishing it, but not having something in his hand was winding him even tighter. So he nurses it—even as it goes warm between his grasp, more unappetizing now than it had been twenty minutes ago—sip after sip to try and appear engaged.

Eventually Joel grows tired of waiting, for Ellie to come back or for you to come at all or for this night to just be over, and picks a drawing to pause in front of. It’s a portrait of someone he’ll never meet, another graceful stranger coming together in an amalgamation of grays. He can hear people walking behind him, talking quietly and occasionally stopping to look over his shoulder at it in passing.

“Hm. Quite the fan of my work, are you?” He almost ignores the comment, thinking it's for someone else, as it usually is, until there’s a figure taking up too much of his periphery.

He’s a little dazed when he looks over, the hot, sour wine settled now in the pit of his belly, buzzing with a flare of something not-missed. He’s prepared to see more than one person beside him, perhaps a couple that had been talking near him rather than to him, but when he swivels his neck, it’s you. You’re just as pretty as he remembers, the face that he looks for in his sleep, but this time you’re not as shy, staring at him straight on—maybe similarly loosened by the pale yellow liquid in your own cup.

Heat gathers at the rim of his jaw—his neck is red by now, he’s sure of it. Already exposed and driven by the faint whisper in his mind, he opens his mouth to speak without thinking, “You weren’t there this week.”

You make quick quotes with just your pointers half-heartedly, “‘Sick,'” and breathe a laugh, “Had a few academic duties to fulfill. Gotta keep the scholarship intact.”

There’s a thick moment of silence, but he can’t look away, eyes weighty and cheeks stinging. It’s awkward but he finds comfort in it, embracing the adjustment like it's a step towards better connection.

Someone brushes his arm as they walk by and Joel uses it to his advantage, “Do you want to step outside? It’s a little hot in here.”

There’s a flash of something like surprise across your eyes, but you shrug, “Sure.”

He crowds behind you as you walk step-in-step out the unarmed emergency exit, just to feel the closeness of your body, much better than the distance he’d felt in your absence on Monday.

The night is worse than cold but it feels good against the heat in Joel’s chest. He can smell your perfume wafting back as he follows your movements, and it makes him pant. He’s ill, has to be—that or the wine was stronger than he thought, because the weird tie he feels is one he can’t explain as being healthy or normal or not fucking scary. But when you turn on your heel to face him, taking a seat on a hip-high planter in a secluded outer corner of the building, it feels right. Natural.

He shuffles so that he’s far enough for you to be safe from his touch, and he shoves a hand in his pocket for good measure, “Thank you again for the drawing. It’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah, of course. Thank you for saying that.”

He wants to say something more, like you’ve captured me in a way that makes me hopeful about myself, but settles instead for, “My daughter liked it a lot, too.” It’s a bold-faced lie, but he thinks that keeping your gift a secret would look less appealing.

“Is she here?”

“Somewhere, yeah. Ran off the second we got in. I’m not a comfort anymore, I guess.”

“Is she yours? Comfort, I mean.” You pick at the crown of the cup, rolling it gently in your hands like its real glass, and you both watch the fuzzy pattern of light that catches on its uniform surface. Joel wonders if you have a comfort of your own—if you need one.

“Is it bad if I say yes? It feels cheesy but the kid is my rock. Dunno what I’m gonna do when she grows up.” He shoves at the concrete under the toe of his boot. It didn’t taste as bad coming out as he thought it might. He hasn’t said that out loud to anyone other than himself, but you look at him like you know exactly what he means. The delicate beginnings of a smile crest on your face, cheek pinched, void of all the uncomfortable sympathy he's gotten from Tommy and Maria at the few things he made the mistake of revealing. He can’t find it in himself to stop now with your gesture, feeling relief in having a place to voice his heartbreak, “Honestly I’m scared, but not just for me, y’know? I worry about what she’s gonna find in the world. I just want to keep her safe.”

“She knows it, I’m sure. I know what it feels like to have no one to root for you—I would’ve killed for that. The only thing you can do for her is be there when she comes home,” You’re looking down again, and he doesn’t like whatever’s made you want to pull back from him—be shy, “Spend time with other people you care about and that care about her. Make that network for her to lean on.”

“All I got is my brother. His wife too, sometimes. My nephews. A few years ago it was just me and him. Ellie—that’s her name. She, uh, isn’t ‘mine’,” he makes the bunny-eared quotes with the hand holding his drink, “Not by blood, anyway. But she popped up out of nowhere and I don’t know how to go back to being on my own.”

“It’d be good to have a network of your own, too—if you’re up to it. It’s hard to do, trust me, but I don’t think I could do a lot without my friends.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t think that’s in the cards for me anymore. I can’t conjure up much of anything worth listening to these days. Forgot how.”

“Don’t do that. You have a lot to say—you’re plenty. Just start with one person. There’s always time to make more.” He knows you’re talking to him, but it feels like you’re also talking to that little boy inside of him, small and unloved and still bleeding.

“Do you need any more? Friends.”

You look up from your lap, pushing a piece of your hair back from your face like you need to get a better look, searching for a way you could be misinterpreting him, “I might have room. You have a recommendation for me?”

He reaches out, grabbing the empty cup from your grasp, stacking it with his own and depositing them by your side. He doesn’t miss the way you watch him, how you widen the spread of your legs on instinct, enough to suggest his entrance. He wades out on one leg to bring himself in, testing the water.

Your lips are parted, and when he looks into the opening between them he imagines he’s seeing to the center of you, and everything else keys out. Cars pass by on the strip of street behind him, driven by ghosts, providing nothing but a low song for your bodies to dance to together, his chest swaying closer to yours with every breath. You move with him, and it feels rehearsed, like all of the steps you've taken to get to this moment were purposeful, done in perfectly orchestrated succession for the hundredth time.

“Do you feel that, too?” He asks, wanting to know if he’s reading too much into it, feeling that sweet edge of thoughtful-involved-fascinated scrape his skin like a sharp knife, “Do you? Like you know me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and it’s all the permission he’s ever needed.

He leans in, lips skating yours, the warm cave of your mouth begging to be explored. He tries so hard to take his time, soft brushes tethering you to each other with the weight of everything he’ hasn’t had the time to say. His whole body is pins and needles—a fierce heat that floats so high it feels like ice. You sigh into him, the start of a moan, and his composure snaps. Service, he reminds himself, act on it—it feels almost divine when he thinks about all the ways he could pledge his loyalty, ready to bend at your altar every day of his life if it meant you’d sing for him again.

Joel brings a hand to the side of your neck, thumb digging into the pulse point at the corner of your jaw to bring you forward, licking into your mouth in search of more noise. He groans when you relax into his hold, so pretty and willing, and works you until you’re just as fervent, daring to suck his bottom lip between your teeth—going for blood.

The voice in his head is yours again—open me, eat me, unhinge your jaw and swallow.

He slots his other hand around the bone of your hip, pulling you nearer to the ledge of the planter, pressing his cock into your inner thigh as it swells to life. You gather his shirt in your hand, a tight fist, shifting yourself against him so you can grind into it instead. No one else exists, no one else could ever exist in this moment, or any moment you attend, for the rest of forever. He wants to fuck you, to see how far the attachment could go, how far he could reach down before he finds a warm, bed-shaped slot for him to rest in. He wants to live inside the body of someone who sees him so clearly. He wants to know every thought in your head before it comes to fruition.

The wine tastes better coming from off your tongue, and he’s gleaning the flavor from every corner of your mouth like he can achieve a second-hand high. His full weight is rocking into you with enough force now that he has to plant a heel in the ground to keep you both from tumbling. He risks a thumb in your waistband in the flurry, tugging at it in the hope of another invitation.

Before you have a chance to decide, the loud press of the swing-door at the front of the building opens, and Joel staggers back, remembering where he is and why.

You look winded to say the least, hair bent from the imprint of his hand, mouth in a perpetual ‘o’, and he’s scared to see the state of his own face, not to mention the visible strain of his cock in his pants. He kicks an ankle out to try to adjust, heaving through an open maw at the thought that you might be affected in that way as well, picturing the slick wet in between your legs—a beautiful sheen from just his mouth on the top half of your body.

You shimmy off the edge, straightening your shirt and he immediately steps back in for more, draping the full breadth of his hand against your collarbone, curling the tips around the top of your shoulder.

“Joel. I— I need to go inside.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

You lay a hand over his with a squeeze and he retracts it, “Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting… I don’t know if I can do this right now.”

He can feel his breath restricting, heart plummeting down so far it feels like it’s landed in the ball of his foot; the second time this week you’ve pulled away. He thinks back to the face you made at him in the gallery, back before he fucked this up. Maybe you never meant for this to happen at all.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice strained, “I just need a little time. Just some time, I’m sorry.”

“No, no I understand. Don’t be sorry. Will you take my number? Just in case?” He wants to make sure you’re okay after this, if you want that, and selfishly he wants to give you a way to have him, knowing this might be the last time he runs into you. He’s too afraid to leave it up to chance.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” You pass him your phone with shaky fingers.

“Only if you want to, honey,” He’s disheartened by the whole thing, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he’s careful to double-check, even if it’s a blow to his hope, “You don’t have to.”

“I know. I’m just—the wine, sorry. I think it was bad.” You huff out a strained laugh, “I want it. Your number, I mean. Promise.” You practically shove the thing at him and he takes it this time, entering the contact with as little squinting as possible to save himself from any further humiliation.

───────

You all but run into the bathroom in the back of the building, needing a moment alone to consider what the fuck it is that’s going on right now—what’s been going on since he walked into your class two weeks ago and overstayed his welcome.

You stumble in, bracing yourself against the porcelain basin, switching on the faucet to drown out some of the pounding in your head. You’d been lying when you said the wine was catching up to you—very much sober—but now, in this suffocating, gray room, you feel like it must have at least accelerated the churning in your gut.

You let water gather in your hands, bending to dip your face in the too-cold pool between them.

Every day has been mostly encouraging if not indifferent but this feels like the start of a bad dream you won’t be able to wake up from, dragging you right back to that dark box you’d been existing in. He came in from nowhere, kicking down your reserve, for what? For a fuck? To enjoy you in passing? Or worse, to stay? You’re unsure which would be harder to receive.

And it’s unfair—for him to show up right at the point of being fully on your own, as soon as you’ve chosen to avoid getting caught up in that part of your life. You’re past the point of surrendering your time—know better than to want to be bogged down by a crush or the preconceived idea of the perfect stranger.

You don’t know him, and you don’t need to.

But you want him so bad it hurts; so bad you had to fake a cold to skip class because you couldn't face the idea of seeing him for the last time. You debated skipping the grade for the exhibition too, but you used any excuse to convince yourself he might not show. You weren’t sure who his daughter was, or how enthusiastic she was about the program, so you figured it was a fair shot. You outwardly willed him not to come, at yourself in the mirror and in the shower and out loud the car, all while secretly praying he’d be in attendance, right up to the moment you saw him.

When you stand up, staring at your rigid body in the plastic mirror above the sink, you’re pained at the sight. You look tired, shoulders tense and eyes bleary. Stray beads of the cool water stick to your skin, refusing to dry in the lingering humidity, balling up together to drip into the open lip of your shirt. You can barely feel it falling over your chest before being soaked up by the material. You feel outside yourself.

Someone starts to knock at the door, a quick and invasive interruption to the moment of absolute panic you’d been enjoying. You managed to twist the lock shut on the door at least, so you click your heel against the tile in a wordless someone’s in here, but the knocking persists.

“Occupied.” You try, wet hands slipping against the edge of the sink. This shit isn’t normal. None of that even comes close to normal.

Still, the heavy thrum against the hollow metal continues, and you take a deep breath before practically ripping it out from the socket of its frame. When you have it open, Ian’s posed between the V of the slot, face bewildered.

“Really, truly, I love you, but what the fuck was that?”

───────

Four days from the start of spring break, you’re out at some stranger’s place off Maple, invited by both Ian and your roommate—making it a little harder to get out of—in a joint, well-intentioned attempt to make you leave the safety of your room. A party will be nice, they’d explained, nothing serious, and a week off’s supposed to be fun, right?

The house is pretty, but whoever owns it has demanded everyone remain out on the cobblestone patio, uneven flooring making for a jagged line of bodies packed too tight to fit.

A fire burns in the middle of the yard, billowing out puffs of smoke you know will linger in your clothes for at least two washes. You swipe at some soot that's gathered in the bowl of your jacket sleeve absentmindedly. There’s no music tonight, maybe because there’s real school tomorrow—the elementary school down the street not quite on the same schedule—and you start to think going out on weeknights is quickly becoming more your speed. There's just the soft blanket of everyone murmuring, trying to stay warm in the chill of the wind.

Ian’s prepping some guy across the fire to meet you; you can tell by the look on his face, like he’s planning something elaborate. You smile at him, at least amused by his effort to help you forget the weekend. He’s right, it is spring break, and Joel is nothing but a consequence of your stress-induced impulsivity.

Still, despite your efforts, you’re thinking about him again, even if to punish him. You can still feel the line of his cock against your thigh, pressed hot and heavy into your body like an offering. You rub your thighs together, cursing him for giving you enough material to fantasize about for weeks—your punishment in return.

Ian crosses the circle with your new prospect, and you tilt your cup in mock cheers. Behind him he mouths hot and nice, tell me what you think. You nod, and the guy steps forward to block the flame. He’s handsome, airbrushed face and sweet cologne and long, thin fingers, nothing like how someone else’s had felt at the junction of your hips.

You swallow, hard.

You honestly don’t hear a word that comes out of his mouth from the second it opens, not even to catch his name. Instead, you think about how nice it’d be if you could pay attention, how much easier it would be to fuck someone you thought was nice and safe and not at the forefront of every free moment you’d been afforded in the last two-and-a-half weeks. About what a relief it would be for him to mount and rut into you without consequence—no emotional burden, just boring and lukewarm like the last bite of something you can’t find a place to throw away. It’s always been easier when you didn’t want more. Yet now you want every night, hold out a hand in your dreams and let him into the part of you that has already carved out a hole in his shape.

This guy couldn’t pull your mind off of Joel even if he was fucking you.

When he offers to grab you a drink, you agree and then head into the house, like you’re not supposed to, as soon as his back is turned. There’s a few locked doors, and then one at the end of a hallway that opens up into a bathroom. You slip in, not bothering to switch on the light in an attempt to hide out from being found.

Here you are searching for reason in a dirty mirror above another sink, with nothing but the weak glow of a plug-in air freshener to guide you, too soon after the last time.

You’re angry, suddenly, at how far he’s burrowed himself into your head, with so little to go on. He’s doing nothing but showing you yourself, a tired tactic to get you to fall in love with him while you do all the work. He was just pretending, right? He couldn’t actually want to love you. You groan, when the fuck was love even part of this equation?

You dig your phone out of your purse. The lock screen is bright—bold lettering reminding you it’s nearly midnight—but you click into your contacts anyway, because it’s not like you’re going to call him or anything. His page is still open, the Texas area code populating under Joel - Ellie’s dad—typed out with caps and all like that’s his only meaningful identifier. You scroll to see where he’d punched in ‘just in case‘ in the notes section of his info-card, and that decimates the cliff of restraint you'd barely managed, sinking in on itself under you.

Your hands are wet with unease, held hostage by the way he’d read your thoughts out loud. You did feel it too, that searing weight of knowing—of being acquainted with him despite only meeting once before. He had to have been honest in at least that confession. You ask yourself for permission—‘was he going through this as well? what exactly was he feeling? would he explain if you asked?’—until it turns into selling yourself justification—‘you could just fuck him, right? that’s all this has to be, right?’.

Yes, you decide. Just another test of will—you can do it. You can pass.

Your finger hovers over the number, closing the screen and opening it again and again and again until you just bite the bullet and fucking press it, the screen going black as you shove it against the side of your ear, covered again in darkness.

He picks up within two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Joel,” You offer him your name like a secret, “It’s me. Did I wake you up?”

“No, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“Can I come see you?”

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader

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rattkachuk · 10 days

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Hello! Hope you are having a good day.

So I have a question for you, just ignore when you don't feel like answering.

I came to Mattdrai via the enemies/rivals to lovers tag and then got sucked into hockey. I really like the fanon take on Leon, fav character, fanon Matthew was fine but way too woobified and infantilized in so many fics. So my surprise when I started to watch games, interviews etc. Public Matthew is so confident, so loving, awesome family to back him up, especially Brady, hot as hell, sexy way of playing hockey, amazing public persona. Loved and respected by his team, beyond hockey.

Then Leon. His only trait seems to be that he's pissy which I can appreciate but it seems that he's just a downright mean, arrogant guy with a superiority complex (see that interview when he puts Silovs down.) I don't find him stoic at all but he's just seems boring and bland and yeah, pissy. It doesn't seem like he has fun or likes his team a lot or is liked by them (Connor aside and his skills aside.) His friendship with Connor seems the only endearing or likeable thing. He even looks good in a bland way and his hockey is while it's so skillful it's not hot and also I wonder why his dirty plays aren't called out more often.

So what do I miss? Where does great fanon Leon come from? Why is he written mostly so superior to Matthew and where comes the "his team likes Leon so much but Matthew is an outcast in his own team come from?) It's so far from what I gather from old and new interviews or games and I have watched a lot, also German interviews. I really would like to like Leon, shipping them had been more fun when I didn't find his public self so jarring. What do I not see what everyone else seems to get?

Sorry for the long ask! Have a great day and thank you

first off thank you for such a thought out ask! i don't get to dive into things like this a lot outside of writing fic and it got my brain gears going.

to get right into the bulk of this ask: i get what you are saying about leon. that can be the way he comes off for sure, and look everything i'm gonna say? i'm talking out of my ass here. i don't claim to know anything about him as a person besides what's publicly presented, and i don't have much right to theorize about why he is the way that he is, but i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it. how would i write rpf otherwise, right 💀

i think he cares a lot. and i think sometimes he gets so wrapped up in things, how things should be, how he should be performing, etc, and when it doesn't go a certain way he gets frustrated and snarky (eg, pissy comments and such). but i don't see that being bad necessarily, especially when it's seems to come from such a team oriented state of mind. which, i dont think he dislikes his team at all? i think if anything, he has a sort of blind faith in his team, and that's the only context i could see a 'superiority complex' making sense in. and yah maybe a little misplaced at times, but ultimately i think it comes from believing so fully in his team and not seeing that come to fruition. he really does not seem to care about his individual performance much at all, so how self obsessed can he be? when i think about leon i just see someone that is ultimately very passionate and committed to the game he plays. i'm also curious to know where you get the vibe that his team doesn't like him? simply because i never got that impression from any of the other oilers, they all seem like they're obsessed with him.

beyond hockey, i see a caring, sweet, kindhearted individual. anytime i see a picture or vid of him interacting with bowie, or even the things his girlfriend posts about him, the comments he leaves for people on ig, and yah of course in the way he talks/acts around connor, i see fragments of someone soooo different than the little two minute post game interviews (which, can we judge any hockey player on those? i think they all hate them dfkjgsd). it's not always something i actively go digging for or have examples of the top of my head, but i do see it, and it definitely goes into creating the version of leon that i have in my mind.

hey, and, he's a silly guy!!! please, i know the reputation is pissy and humourless, ESPECIALLY in fic, but that man is so funny. so many random offhanded comments that make me pause and then laugh. a different sense of humour but it's so there. i love the sandcastle vid from the asg last year and feel like it's a good example of that, all sunburnt and happy. also hey, big man in tune with his fear of the ocean? love that. that little vid of him dancing on the ice earlier this season, those halloween photos where he's dressed as a monkey, every time he talks to a kid. hell, seeing him in warmups and watching the way he takes time to interact fans?? loveee watching warmups but i'd never had a player actually acknowledge my existence before leon!

also i really enjoy his personality on the ice, i like the rat behaviour and the sassy comments that he makes to other players/refs, i like the bitch moves, and i like his hockey too. i think his game is dependable and like you said skillful, and while maybe not the most creative, the sureness and the technical aspect it is hot to me. so my thoughts on everything are probably skewed in that regard.

anyways this was just a whole lot of rambling about why i find him interesting, endearing even, but i understand the perception you have. i don't like some players that other people love, just cause i cant see what they see. and honestly that's sometimes just the way it is! if you don't like leon, maybe u just don't like him and thats fine.

disclaimer that i have only been on hockeyblr for a couple years, and really didn't spare many thoughts for leon til the beginning of the 22/23 season. truthfully i'm hardly the person to ask about leon imo, but of course i have thoughts anyways! if someone else with more knowledge reads my bit of rambling here, please feel free to chime in and add your voice to this!

and side note, ofc, i have to touch on this bc who would i be if i'm not one to talk about matthew; in the way of m.tkachuk, i think that in the early days of mattdrai it was maybe a fair take away during his time with the flames (minus the woobifying). even though he was loved so much here and had some fucking times, and i think the team was mostly good to him (player wise if not regarding management, that is), i see such a stark difference now that he's on the panthers. he seems much happier and more confident, and obviously he's clicking with the cats on another level, and i do see a shift in how he's been portrayed in fics since tbh.

#asks #anon #this is really all over the place #but hopefully there's something of value in this rambling #and if not thats fine too #honestly all a matter of perspective and vibes that u like ultimately #and i like leons vibes #whether thats from truth or projection who knows!!#also i didnt touch on 'he doesn't look like he's having fun'#but i would say i think the oilers as a whole need to have more fun #but i think i see him enjoying himself out there quite a bit #also the mean comment i dont see him being a mean individual at alllll #ahhh idk this post is so long sorry!!!#but thank u anon for taking the time and dropping this in the ask box #some things i really hadnt put too much thought into #anyways im gonna bow out here bc im just gonna keep going if i dont stop myself #anyone feel free to tack on to any of this!!

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