#and that they can’t / won’t find a balance between themselves and someone they love
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“it’s no longer 1937 and we wrote a snow white that’s not gonna be saved by the prince”
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
#for real they think they’re feminist ICONS for this#u just sound stupid as shit#why can’t women ever have both#why#ITS NOT EITHER OR#THEY FR CAN HAVE LOVE AND ALSO STRENGTH#THOSE TWO THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE FOR WOMEN#honestly i think it’s more misogynistic that you would write a story that tells women they have to give up love to choose themselves#and that they can’t / won’t find a balance between themselves and someone they love#weirdo behavior#performative feminism#this snow white movie looks ass goodbye
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9 Favorite TV Shows (that I don’t always talk about)
I got tagged by @blairwaldcrf - and am gonna take a page from their book, because this list is just always the same. So. Cutting out all the shows I always talk about anyway.
(The 9 that are on the obvious main list: Buffy, Relic Hunter, Leverage, Once Upon a Time, Shadowhunters, Sailor Moon, One Piece, Teen Wolf, Charmed)
These are in no particular order because it’d break my brain to actually rank them!
1. Community
One of my favorite comedies! It is so silly, but it is also very consistent - it does drop a little in the later seasons, but I love the originality of the show in the overall.
2. The Nanny
My all-time favorite comedy show. I used to rewatch all the re-runs. One of the down-sides of streaming is that you no longer just... end up watching reruns (also so much content, no real time for casual rewatches, I should make the time for another rewatch). Will they/won’t they rom-coms all around the world want what Max and Fran had. Jealous bitches want to be CC but never will be. No butler has ever sassed like Niles.
3. Hustle
I love this show a lot! It is severely underrated! It’s if Leverage was a band of British bastards who steal for themselves and break the fourth wall. I love them a lot. I think everyone who loves Leverage should go and watch Hustle too, honestly. It’s about the found family and the con.
4. Grey’s Anatomy
Listen, this show isn’t perfect, it has flaws, but anything that has run for 19 years has to have flaws. But I love it so much - and the friendship between Cristina and Meredith is quite frankly absolutely amazing. The way they prioritize each other, and the way their partners accept that? And so many more things I love about this show.
5. Stargate SG-1
Genuinely my favorite scifi show. It is so well-written with such compelling characters and arcs and just genuinely so funny, it has no right to still hold up so well and be that funny - and I’m saying that as someone who didn’t grow up on it and only discovered it a couple years ago.
6. Recess
My comfort cartoon from my childhood. I loved this as a kid so very, very much and it still brings me a lot of joy and warm childhood memories to rewatch.
7. Kekkai Sensen
I can’t explain this one. I hate blood/violence in anime, I usually skip these parts. I don’t know. But I have so much love for this anime. I regularly find myself rewatching it because I love it so much (though also, admittedly, due to its short length. Can’t casually pop in a full rewatch of One Piece).
8. Kuroko no Basuke
Favorite of the sports anime! An absolute classic. The color-coded basketball monster boys! It also masters length quite well, to be honest? Many either stretch out the length of games far too long (side-eyeing later seasons of Haikyuu), or more recent anime that just... cut everything so very short and speedrun through it all a little too much? I think KnB has the right balance to stretch it out but keep you in suspense.
9. Shadow & Bone
And you know what! Another ongoing show, beside Grey’s. I really do love SaB a lot, what can I say. I’m weak for flawed fantasy shows with great characters.
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Tagging @kimmycup @justonemorechapternicercy @kunfyouzed and anyone else who wants to do it, feel tagged by me <3
#Community NBC#The Nanny#BBC's Hustle#Grey's Anatomy#Stargate SG-1#Disney's Recess#Kekkai Sensen#Kuroko no Basuke#Shadow and Bone#TV Shows#Tumblr Tag Games
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Just watched the first season of Pls Like, all of which is on YouTube. I’d never heard of it or its star, Liam Williams, until someone recommended it to me last night. I have now decided I’m a fan of this show and its star, Liam Williams. That’s how fast that happens. Currently working on getting my hands on seasons 2 and 3.
I’ve been trying lately to be less of a judgmental dick about social media-based content, and this very much is not making me less cynical in that way, but it is very funny. Along with Liam Williams, the guy I hadn’t heard of yesterday but have now decided I very much like, it stars Tim Key. And Emma Sidi, whom I know as that person in Rose Matafeo’s show who was also in Party’s Over, that thing Radio Four throws at me between News Quiz and Now Show weeks sometimes, and I think I’ve seen/heard her in various other things like that. On the subject of Rose Matafeo, she turns up in one episode. As does Lolly Adefope.
It's a satire of YouTubers and that sort of thing, through the eyes of a main character who describes himself as: “A fifty-year-old grumpy technophobe in the body of a twenty-eight-year-old grumpy technophobe.” Which is a fantastic line, one I’d love to say applies to me except that it’s somehow already been four years since I was twenty-eight.
Like I said, it definitely does not help me in my efforts to be less judgmental about that sort of thing. I am trying to acknowledge that letting people put their comedy out on social media themselves can be a good thing, letting it live or die on its own merits instead of having networks decide what gets made. There was a YouTube comment on this Pls Like show that called it an “Oxbridge comedian making fun of the self-made”, which, to be fair, is accurate. But sometimes I really like watching Oxbridge comedians be cynically judgmental. I’m very into Oxbridge comedians being cynically judgmental, to a degree that’s probably hypocritical.
This show is vaguely Nathan Barley-flavoured, and I’m a big fan of anything that’s even remotely Nathan Barley-flavoured. I was even thinking during episode 5 that the only Barley-esque element this show is missing is a main character as dark as Julian Barrett, because this show goes pretty dark but not as far as that one, I mean I can’t see Liam Williams doing the genuinely horrifying blackmail plot from the end of Nathan Barley. And then… well I won’t spoil the details but it did end up with a bit of that.
I thought at first that it would be just the satire, but liked that they brought in more of the plot and characterization as it went along. There were times when I thought the balance between satire and actual plot was a little off, but it was mostly well done. And like I said, I liked the main character, especially as they let him be a person with own flaws and by the end not really above the stuff he was mocking. In a Nathan Barley-esque fashion. I just think they should make a lot more things in a Nathan Barley-esque fashion.
So I highly recommend season 1 of this show, and will probably say the same about 2 and 3 if I manage to find them. I’ve also downloaded a podcast that guy did with Charlotte Ritchie and some other people, because it’s probably good for me to mix things up by getting attached to some slightly younger cynically judgmental Oxbridge comedians, instead of spending so much time on ones who graduated at the turn of the millennium.
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ALEX DANVERS ︰ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 .
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @reignthem ❤
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @heroheart, @computerlads, @oftomorrow, @fiercebit, @storyofwhoiam, and whoever else wants to do the thing
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟷 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
NAME : alexandra danvers
EYE COLOR : brown.
HAIR STYLE / COLOR : brown / auburn / dyed red, just below jaw length at its longest, and later shaved into an undercut.
HEIGHT : 5 ′ 7 ″
CLOTHING STYLE : alex’s casual wear usually consists of t - shirts / button downs / henleys and skinny jeans, cozy sweaters, ankle boots and myriad leather jackets; in her down time, she gravitates toward sweatpants. at work it’s all black tactical gear and combat boots, or a black pantsuit / windbreaker if she’s posing as FBI or secret service. she’ll wear a dress if it’s for an incredibly special occasion, but she leans toward pants most of the time.
BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE : eyes, jaw, legs. the thigh strength is real; alex could choke someone out with them in combat - and has.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟸 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
FEARS : failing. letting people down. losing kara.
GUILTY PLEASURE : a glass of wine after work, more takeout than is healthy, rocky road ice cream and mom’s home made lasagna.
BIGGEST PET PEEVE : bigotry, cruelty, injustice.
AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE : to strike a balance between her work and having a family of her own. alex has a strong sense of justice and responsibility, but she longs to find a middle ground where she won’t always have to sacrifice.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟹 : 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.
FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP : whether or not she has time to get in an early morning run before work. breakfast.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST : her loved ones, her partner ( in verses where she is with someone ), her job, the countless responsibilities she has ( most notably kara and the deo ) and her worry that she's not doing enough.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED : she tends to reflect on the day.
WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS : her intellect, her professional strengths, and her fierce love for those she cares for.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟺 : 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?
SINGLE OR GROUP DATES : single.
TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED : loved.
BEAUTY OR BRAINS : brains.
DOGS OR CATS : dogs.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟻 : 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…
LIE : only when it’s absolutely necessary ( i.e lying about supergirl’s true identity to keep kara safe ).
BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES : sometimes. alex believes that she got to where she is because she fought for it, that she’s never stopped trying, but she can’t always shirk the nagging thought that her best isn’t always enough.
BELIEVE IN LOVE : absolutely.
WANT SOMEONE : yes - alex wants a partner, someone who wants everything that she does, but actively searching for that can’t be her top priority.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟼 : 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…
BEEN ON STAGE : once, in an elementary school play.
CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN : yes. in high school, considering the enormous secret her family had to keep, it was the only way alex thought she could have a group of friends ( even ones she didn’t always like very much ). college was much the same: alex dated men she felt nothing for to convince herself that she could have a ‘ normal ’ life, a life that eliza could be happy with. after finding herself facing academic probation, she’d doll herself up in dresses and heels and would flirt at clubs, and party on weeknights. she’s since stopped pretending. joining the deo ( and subsequently meeting maggie ) played a crucial part in that.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟽 : 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.
FAVORITE COLOR : blue.
FAVORITE ANIMAL : dogs.
FAVORITE BOOK : fiction: the stand by stephen king, jurassic park by michael crichton. non - fiction: a brief history of time by stephen hawking
FAVORITE GAME : pictionary, scrabble. alex is pretty competitive, though, so she’ll play just about anything.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟾 : 𝐀𝐆𝐄.
DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE : september 29th.
HOW OLD WILL THEY BE : 33 ( alex was born in 1989 - however her age can and will be verse / timeline dependent )
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟿 : 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.
I LOVE : ferociously and without condition.
I FEEL : responsible.
I HIDE : my deepest insecurities.
I MISS : my dad.
I WISH : that I could protect her better.
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The next chapter of Trist and Red is out! The girls run into some trouble with a smaller gang! Fortunately Red's a total psychopath who knows how to deal with them :]
Chapter 2: Conflict arisesThe two finish their plates after talking, and venture outside into the hallway of the dingy complex. Red appears conflicted
“What’s wrong babe, you’re not usually the worrying type”
“I’m not worried about the plan, I’m worried about you!”
“About me?”
Red lets out a sharp, frustrated sigh
“I don’t get it, we’ve been having so much fun all week, yet you still look so sad. I hate seeing you bed-rotting like that!”
Trist begins to realize the toll her struggles have been having on Red, feeling a twinge of guilt and some frustration herself. She had explained her depression to her a couple times before, what didn’t she understand?
“Red, you know I can’t help that- it’s just a part of my condition!”
Red stops themselves from arguing further, knowing this won’t end well for her. She could argue up and down with anyone else, knowing fully well she could find a way to spin the conversation in her favor somehow, but with Trist she would have met her match. Not to mention, a conversation like this would only end in someone if not both crying and not talking until tomorrow, she couldn’t do that to her.
“Fine, you know I care about you a lot, I just want to make sure you’re ok…”
Trist’s expression softens, knowing this was her girlfriend’s way of apologizing to her
“Yeah, I’m sorry as well. I’ve been a lot moodier as of late. You’ve done nothing wrong, just please, understand I can’t always be happy.”
“I’ll…try to understand that. I love you Trist”
“I love you too, Red”
The couple stop walking together for a moment, Red balancing on her toes to match Trist’s height, Trist leaning over. Trist brings Red closer about to give each other a tender kiss…
“HEY FAGGOTS”
…And that’s their moment gone. Trist looks up, fairly peeved by the group of boys who just ruined their kiss, “The Wranglers” they called themselves: four college dropout frat boys who thought they were the hottest shit around for successfully robbing a store once. Trist rolled her eyes, what could they want this time? She dreaded the idea of them potentially moving in, having to see them occasionally on the streets was already enough of a headache as it was.
“We’ve just gotten kicked out of our old place and found this slum of a complex to live in for a bit. Not that you would mind, princess~”
God, fucking damnit.
Red’s face matched her name as she plotted in her mind how obvious it would be to throw them off the railing one by one. Then, she gets an idea for more subtle fuckery.
“Hey, since you’re new here, how about we show you around the complex! I’m sure you’ve missed kegging and there’s a lovely grad student here who throws the wildest parties if you’d like to meet her~”
With that, the four looked at each other nodding in agreement before the leader spoke up once more.
“Uh, sure. Just don’t steal my shit this time.”
Red “warmly” smiled, Trist after having done this song and dance multiple times before, already sensed some mischief to come.
As she led them around the most lengthy, laborious way she possibly could have through the labyrinth of a complex, she finally reached the spoken of girl’s door.
After knocking in a way only known between her and Red, she answers
“Hiii Amber! I brought you some fresh meat.”
The boys grow slightly unnerved by Red’s wording
“Oh hey girl, it’s so good to see you!”
The buff woman hugs Red tightly
“Where have you been? It seems these days you’re always out and about on some new adventure, you need to come by to one of my house parties again so we can catch up.”
“Eh, been busy spoiling this one here”
She wraps her arm around Trist to the best of her ability
“You know what, bring her along next time with you and your new “friends” “
She winks at Red, having caught on somewhat to the energy present, plus past deeds made with her
“Of course I can”
She giggled.
Amber leads the boys inside, before turning around and smiling smugly at Red. This would likely be the last they’d hear of them in a while, fortunately for Red, Amber was known to be more than happy to help her if it meant having a few new test subjects to ‘play’ with regarding her biology studies. Red’s demeanor returns to it’s peppy state as she claps and spins around to face Tristana once more.
“Alright, with that out of the way, are you ready to go rag on some bad guys?”
“Red, we’re also the bad guys with the shit we’re pulling” she replies with a barely contained laugh
“Oh pff, you never let me have any fun!” Red huffs in a light-hearted tone.
With their first ‘problems’ of the day resolved, the pair head to the scene of the crime in search of clues on where to find the infamous gang.
#Trist and Red#chapter 2#cw: homophobia#catgirl#demon girl#Red is up to no good in this one#lesbian#sapphic#orginal story#oc story
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The Person On Your Mind in December 🧑🏿🎄 2023 - Taurus
Whole of their energy towards Taurus: The Chariot
Feelings: 6 Swords
Intentions: 5 Wands
Actions: The Hierophant
I’m getting you like this person, via messages, I don’t know if you’ve told them, but they know. And they’re taken 💯 That’s why they’re avoiding you. They have toyed with the idea, like “maybe if I’m ever single” but that’s as far as it goes, The Devil rev on the bottom shows them not even being tempted, or allowing themselves to be tempted. They could live at a distance or be planning for that, or just planning a future for themselves. Either way, this person is thinking in terms of marriage, long-term, serious relationships, and there could be someone else involved that they want to do that with. Or where they’re going doesn’t have you in it, again could be traveling or lives far away, it may not be possible. They’re leaving behind “The Lovers” for 2 Cups, and they’re conflicted about cutting out the other options, but you seem to be one of those options. If you’ve casually dated, they may have found their person.
Either they have someone else or they just know that this won’t work long-term, but overall they’re a very serious person. In action is The Hierophant, they could literally be getting married, moving in with someone (or closer to them if they are a distance away), this could be college/school, it’s like they’re taking you into consideration before ultimately making their decision to go. I don’t get that they’re trying to be mean, they’re just serious and know what they want. There could also be some moral/religious code of standards they expect someone to meet in order to marry, or they could have a family that arranges marriages, their spouse has to be Indian or Jewish, like there’s some deeper reason that could stem from education/family/religion. The most emotion I get from them is that they are conflicted about it, but I also get that you weren’t the only one either, it’s several people, and if The Devil rev isn’t curbing temptation, it can be releasing something toxic, I don’t get anything really being about *you*, specifically. Whatever it was, was bigger than just you.
Messages:
Their side:
- Mama’s Boy / Daddy’s Girl
- Marriage Material
Your side:
- Sports Fanatic! 🏀
- I want to approach you but don’t know HOW
Possible signs:
Leo, Cancer & Aquarius, heavy fire 🔥
If you’re dealing with:
Page of Cups are sweet messages, sometimes romantic or “crush” energy, butterflies in the stomach and cute good morning texts, compliments. This can also show good news, a happy surprise, it’s a very soft, sweet, daydreamy, naive energy, but a positive one to be in. This can be your energy towards others, good news you’re hearing, or some could involve a child, if you have one.
Aries - confident, secure, not worried about you or you’re not worried about them, but you do find them attractive & could flirt 💋
Taurus - there is genuine love between you, if this is your person, they’re very serious about this relationship, could be a soulmate ❤️
Gemini - has healed since you’ve left, doesn’t think there could be anything again but still hopes that’s possible - 9 Cups is a wish (you), or that’s how you feel about them
Cancer - deeply committed, possibly married to you even, they love you and feel very comfortable & secure in this relationship
Leo - holiday gatherings could be rough with them, one of you wants to bite the other’s head off and won’t hold back about it 😬
Virgo - you turn them on and they have no problem letting you know about it, or switch it
Libra - 4 Cups & 2 Swords…are they ever not in this energy? Doesn’t know and doesn’t care, basically. There are no options that make them happy.
Scorpio - letting you know they’re coming back around, or when, could be for the holidays 🎉
Sagittarius - has been unfair to you & there’s a major lack of balance or growth here, they held you back or have held back from you
Capricorn - can’t defend themselves or has no excuse, but they can try to move forward, and will
Aquarius - breadcrumbing energy keeps you stuck from progress, or you/they are trying to balance an imbalanced situation or relationship
Pisces - done with this & they’ve healed
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Review: Dead Reynolds new thundering alternative-rock single ‘Wake Up’ tackles the struggles of addiction in its personal lyricism
Five-piece Dead Reynolds hail from East Anglia, bearing a mix of alt rock, indie rock and pop punk perfect for fans of Foo Fighters, Don Broco, Mallory Knox or Nothing but Thieves but still strikingly their own. Since forming in 2018, they’ve picked up long-standing support from Kerrang! Radio, RockSound, Powerplay Magazine, and critical acclaim from Louder/ Classic Rock, plus Amazing Radio and BBC Introducing that has only pushed them further to succeed. Now bearing their newest single ‘Wake Up’, Dead Reynolds are making it clear they’re a band with a lot to give and this new track will only solidify the places they’re heading.
Storming into the three and a half minute experience of ‘Wake Up’ with clashing drums, emphatic electric guitar and an overall identity that’s big and bold, Dead Reynolds don’t limit themselves to anything other than greatness. The verse sees vigorous beats settle down to a steady lull, with rich electric guitar and deep bass all together building a sonic base bridging between alt rock, indie rock and softening into brilliant pop melodies. As the chorus instead of bursting into an explosion levels out into more of an atmospheric moment of vastness, ‘Wake Up’ manages to balance brewing energy with a diffusion you can’t help but chant along to, with aggressive drums falling into a backing whilst soaring electric guitar riffs find their own place. With their new vocalist Rossco bringing a new direction to the band’s sound, ‘Wake Up’ shows off the edging of both rock-y grit and charismatic flair that he weaves between, erring the edge of a clean pop delivery and the more rich tones of hoarseness and bundled emotion. A bridge that fades out into a moment of sincerity and stripped-back beats leaves a moment to ponder before building drum beats climb towards a high the song feels it’s been awaiting since pressing play, taking vocals that interact with one another to truly ramp up the rising adrenaline. It’s clear that in terms of sound, ‘Wake Up’ is a song that wields a war behind its ebbing and flowing of velocity, serving both an anthem to be played loud and a message to be heard.
With a heartbreaking story to tell that covers darker lyrical themes, Dead Reynolds don’t shy away from touching upon the harshness of reality inside of ‘Wake Up’, expressing a narrative rooted in the struggles of an addict. Close from the heart and relating to experiences of members of the band, ‘Wake Up’ is a hauntingly penned journey of love and loss, watching someone you care for detach from the person they once were and being unable to intervene. A fear of their loved one’s demise is engrained within every day, rooted in the choruses’ repetition to emphasise the recurring thought that just won’t stop coming back even in lighter moments: ‘I wonder if we’ll see tomorrow.’ Rhetorical questions seek to find answers that will only continue to be left unspoken and un-responded to, weighing heavy as they watch someone they care for throw everything away and slowly realise they cannot pull them out unless they truly wish for it: ‘was it everything you wanted?’ Left feeling out of their depth, lines like ‘only you can break these chains’ plead for change while they are only able to witness from a distance as their loved one continues to downwards spiral. Every moment and personally pained line of ‘Wake Up’ captures the reality of addiction, as well as the burden it places upon those around them, preaching a message of solidarity with those watching a loved one lose themselves and hoping to reach out to those who need the encouragement to turn things around.
Check out ‘Wake up’ for yourself here to enjoy Dead Reynolds’ thundering alternative-rock sound that’s dedicated to sharing an important message sure to resonate with many.
Written by: Tatiana Whybrow
Photo Credits: Unknown
// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator
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a letter to me and future me
i know its hard, it has always been hard and it gets harder day by day. the only thing that matters is it’ll pass and you’ll find something harder. thats how it works by according to my negligible knowledge.
i’ve always been good with mirrors, looking at my imperfections, looking at the favourite side of my face, looking at my acne scars, looking at the strands of scarce beard, looking into my eyes. although sometimes even getting up and brushing my teeth feels so impossible, brush your teeth, you know i always hated people with bad hygiene. don’t think about if there being a point of looking after yourself, you don’t live for others. it’s your sole mission as a primitive entity to be healthy. don’t forget to take showers, it always feels good afterwards even if you don’t think so. try to be clean, don’t procrastinate on dishes, take your garbage more frequently, vacuum your floors. don’t do it for other people, the only one that needs to be impressed is you and you must impress yourself.
i tend to try smoking my problems away and i guess it works to a degree but don’t use it as an escape mechanism, you don’t want to end up like your father at 50 barely climbing four flights of stairs, don’t be like your father. speak up, make people listen to you. i know you fear damaging relationships, hurt loved ones or fear getting judged. it is not healthy both for you and your friends to keep all your thoughts to yourself, you’ve learned this the hardest way. i know it’s really, really hard and hurtful to keep arguing with people you love and care dearest but you shouldn’t fit yourself in for others just like they shouldn’t to fit themselves into your way of thinking. so just try to keep it balanced.
don’t get selfish, keep helping people and don’t expect anything in return, stay in touch with your friends, even if you don’t feel there is any emotional connection, they care about you just like you care about them but everyone got their own lives and their own problems, sometimes you don’t get to be the most important thing on their life and thats completely ok.
NEVER, NEVER hurt yourself in any way. everything is temporary and you’ll be gone from this world in no time. spend your precious time with things you won’t regret. you have to find the goodness in this world, i choose to believe there is.
don’t get attached to anything, it always ends up in vain. i’ve been a believer that true love is out there somewhere but it’s not worth it, you’ll probably never find it just like i can’t. maybe in time you’ll get over things, maybe you’ll meet someone and believe this is it but it too, will end. your heart is too sensitive to love someone just to get broken again. so don’t even bother, you’ve been born into the shittiest decade of your country and making meaningful connections is not a priority for most people in this day and age.
i need to fill my garden with the whitest of flowers
to smell them until my nose bleeds, until my brain goes numb
i need to watch carelessly chatting on a cramped, second hand sofa
to see her every pore sprouting tenderness until my eyes get watery
i need to hear most obscure moans and giggles and everything in between
to overfill myself with neverending love, where my billion neurons eradicate each other to feel the greatest opioid in its purest form
i need to hold hands, walk on the same pace, i need to get caught daydreaming
i need to watch movies, i need to walk places, i need to talk graces
i need to see sights, i need to be nice.
i need hours of kissings ending with a shorter kiss, i need to be embraced, i need to embrace
i need to make plans, i need to feel embarrassed, i need to get thrilled
i need to be cure and cured at the same time, i need to be understanding and understood
i need to make cheesy jests just to make fun of them
i need a mother and a baby, need a friend and a daisy
to praise, be praised, to share memories.
i want to be loved, i want someone to acknowledge me, care about me, make exceptions for me.
i need to love
don’t forget to drink lots of water, it’s good for your skin. i know you enjoy cutting your own hair but don’t cut it too short, it generally ends up in regret. don’t stop caring about people, even if you think they are using you for comfort and for their problems. most people around you see yourself as a good listener and you like the idea of being a good listener, to understand them, to help them, to be a safe haven for them. you like it when people say that you are lucky but don’t forget that you like being liked and you don’t share bad experiences and things you had to do, things you had to let go of and your thousands of failures. you are not lucky, this is just your sympathetic, clumsy, foolish and friendly persona. don’t get too careless and don’t forget that people see you how you show yourself.
keep collecting memories, i know people see you as tangible and materialistic but you are a deep, emotional person who can’t express himself like he should. keep gifts and objects that made you feel special, keep writing poems even if they are shitty, keep writing diaries even if they are tiresome. feelings and perceptions of events change but materials and the meanings you gave them are eternal. don’t throw your old notebooks, don’t get rid of anything written. digital is just ones and zeros and you are above two numbers.
don’t get carried over small things, anger is the act of not knowing how to handle the situation, never make any decisions when you are angry, that post someone liked, that tweet someone posted or that joke your friend made was probably not serious, don’t take it personally. be kind to yourself and others. i truly believe you are a good man and deserve good things in your life.
take care, hakan.
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Scorpion Interaction Dialogues
All possible interaction dialogues between Scorpion and Y/N.
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Y/N: Do all scorpions set themselves on fire?
Scorpion: You would rather be stung?
Y/N: Got it, not a questions guy.
Y/N: You’ve evolved into Sub Zero’s partnership?
Scorpion: He is not the man I thought he was.
Y/N: Demonstrate.
Y/N: You are one with your anger.
Scorpion: Nothing could match my vengeance.
Y/N: Demonstrate.
Scorpion: You were foolish to come after me.
Y/N: After you? I thought you were after me.
Scorpion: Do not mock me.
Scorpion: Your anger has drawn the attention of Sub-Zero.
Y/N: What’s wrong? Scared?
Scorpion: It is you who is not scared enough.
Y/N: You know, I kinda dig the whole fire thing.
Scorpion: I’ve no time for your pyromaniac fantasies.
Y/N: You would be so lucky.
Y/N: You know, I kinda dig the whole fire thing.
Scorpion: I’ve no time for your pyromaniac fantasies.
Y/N: Who said I was talking about you?
Scorpion: Do not tempt me with your beguiling ways.
Y/N: Not sure what you’re talking about.
Scorpion: Then I will end it for you.
Scorpion: I used to think you were honorable.
Y/N: I have never changed.
Scorpion: Even worse then.
Scorpion: You have too many strings attached to be trusted.
Y/N: I am who I am, Scorpion.
Scorpion: That is the problem.
Y/N: You think I hate you?
Scorpion: You are a liar and a thief.
Y/N: Oh, so you hate me.
Y/N: You should have warned me about Noob.
Scorpion: Bi-Han could’ve finished you off.
Y/N: Just as Quan-Chi did to your family.
Scorpion: You think you know anger?
Y/N: Like you would never understand.
Scorpion: I find that hard to be true.
Y/N: Impressive Kunai spear.
Scorpion: It is sharper than your blades.
Y/N: You assume too little.
Y/N: I love these little talks.
Scorpion: They are becoming rather frequent.
Y/N: Not enough.
Scorpion: You remind me of someone I used to know.
Y/N: Someone you grieve?
Scorpion: Not anymore.
Scorpion: You are more skilled than anticipated.
Y/N: Can’t say I’m not grateful to hear that.
Scorpion: It is true discipline that you lack.
Y/N: Dvorah was asking about you.
Scorpion: I can do without Kytinn.
Y/N: A scorpion beats a spider, I say.
Scorpion: You could have been Shirai Ryu.
Y/N: An insult, or an honor?
Scorpion: A mourning.
Y/N: You warming up to me yet?
Scorpion: Your fire could not match mine.
Y/N: Demonstrate.
Scorpion: You move with balance.
Y/N: You move like a scorpion.
Scorpion: I would not mind a closer observance.
Scorpion: You are playing with fire.
Y/N: And you’re not?
Scorpion: I refer to our relationship.
Y/N: I could never replace your wife and son.
Scorpion: Nobody could.
Y/N: You are not the only one who mourns.
Y/N: What’s got you all amped up today?
Scorpion: You have lit a new fire on me.
Y/N: Allow me to put it out.
Scorpion: Flattery will not save you.
Y/N: Flattery implies that my words are lies.
Scorpion: You never stop.
Scorpion: Have you no honor?
Y/N: What is this image you have of me in your head?
Scorpion: My image of you is far better than reality.
Scorpion: Have you no honor?
Y/N: What is this image you have of me in your head?
Scorpion: My perception is not faltered by my feelings.
Y/N: You are not my enemy, Hanzo.
Scorpion: Who told you of that name?
Y/N: Anyone who cares about you knows it.
Scorpion: Your radiance won’t save you.
Y/N: You think I’m radiant?
Scorpion: Your mind goes to the wrong place.
Y/N: I would trust you with my life, Scorpion.
Scorpion: And I with you.
Y/N: You... would?
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Sub-Zero to Y/N
Sub-Zero: Scorpion has taken a liking to you.
Y/N: He has to you too.
Sub-Zero: Show me what impressed him.
Sub-Zero: Beware your tie with Hanzo Hasashi.
Y/N: You’d know all about cutting people close to him off, wouldn’t you?
Sub-Zero: The cold impairs your judgement.
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Sub-Zero to Scorpion
Sub-Zero: Do not pour all your energy into attachments.
Scorpion: They do not control me.
Sub-Zero: Y/N would beg to differ.
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Cassie Cage to Scorpion
Cassie: So, what happened to the no family oath?
Scorpion: My oath is not broken.
Cassie: Yeesh, hard to break the news to Y/N.
Cassie: I hear you’ve got it bad for someone.
Scorpion: Your imagination will never cease to amaze me.
Cassie: Don’t be a baby about it.
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Cassie Cage to Y/N
Cassie: So, you and Scorpion huh?
Y/N: We are not even friends.
Cassie: <laughter> Does he ever tell you to ‘GET OVER HERE!’?
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Dvorah to Y/N
Dvorah: You relationship blinds you.
Y/N: Okay, you’re asking for it.
Dvorah: This one will lay eggs where you sleep.
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Kotal Khan to Y/N
Kotal Khan: Do you not fear being burned?
Y/N: It can be fun if you do it right.
Kotal Khan: Then I suppose that explains enough.
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Sonya Blade to Y/N
Sonya: Scorpion’s got a price on his head.
Y/N: The hell am I supposed to do about it?
Sonya: You know what needs to be done.
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Baraka to Scorpion
Baraka: Your lover tastes most sweet.
Scorpion: What would you know of this?
Baraka: I will flay both your corpses.
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Kung Lao to Scorpion
Kung Lao: Y/N and Hanzo sittin’ in a tree...
Scorpion: I will burn your tree to the ground.
Kung Lao: Oh no you don’t.
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Liu Kang to Scorpion
Liu Kang: Y/N has feelings for you.
Scorpion: I do not fall for your tricks Quan-Chi.
Liu Kang: Don’t tell me you want to lose two.
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Cetrion to Scorpion
Cetrion: You two are perfect for each other.
Scorpion: Quiet, puppet.
Cetrion: But some men never learn.
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Cetrion to Y/N
Cetrion: He does think about you, youngling.
Y/N: I won’t take courting advice from an old hag.
Cetrion: Precisely what he said.
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End of Round Taunts
Scorpion: Your heart will burn.
Scorpion: I will end your suffering.
Scorpion: A quick death will suffice.
Scorpion: I have been patient with you.
Scorpion: See inside me.
Y/N: I’m sorry, Hanzo.
Y/N: Flame on.
Y/N: Not very bright, are we?
Y/N: And they say fire is a tool.
Y/N: Want me to pull your hair next?
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*Read* All ____ Interaction Dialogues can be updated and added upon at any time. Dialogues can be changed on whim, request, or added too appropriately. Return frequently for more dialogues.
Something I decided to hurry up and finish for the time being. Almost done with a Cassian Andor piece now. Then I will move onto other requests.
#scorpion#hanzo hasashi#mortal kombat#mk11#scorpion x reader#scorpion imagine#scorpion imagines#mk11 imagine#mk11 imagines#mortal kombat x reader#hanzo hasashi x reader#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat fanfic#Mortal Kombat headcanons#mortal kombat headcanon#mortal kombat interactions#mortal kombat dialogue#scorpion dialogue
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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack
This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!
LUCIFER
Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.
Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.
If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.
Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.
MAMMON
Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.
Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?
Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.
The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.
After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.
LEVIATHAN
Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao.
Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.
Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.
Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.
SATAN
Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.
A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.
Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.
ASMODEUS
Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!
Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.
In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.
Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.
BEELZEBUB
Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.
The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.
Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.
Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.
BELPHEGOR
Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.
Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.
With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me mc#obey me reader#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#my writing
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29° and 0° in astrology
the 29th and 0 degrees are said to be "critical" degrees in astrology, meaning that anything sitting in these degrees have a special influence on its expression and impact on the rest of the chart. so, i thought it would be a good idea to explore these two degrees and what they could mean for you guys!
part i: the 29th degree
the 29th degree is the very last degree of any zodiac sign. it is said to be the anaretic degree. here, the most difficult challenges related to the placement in question are presented, as everything else has been mastered. there is also a sense of inevitability with this placement. this is often marked by a turning point in the individual’s life.
sun – the ego and identity are strong, but there could be external circumstances that don’t allow the individual to express themselves in a completely authentic or transparent way. they must reconcile who they are inside with how they act. at times, they feel like an imposter, or like they are selling out to others. they know who they are, but do other people? this feeling that something is physically blocking them from existing impacts every action they take. they must figure out what is holding them back from complete self-expression and give themselves permission to be themselves in spite of this.
moon – this is where the most complex, desolate emotions a person can feel lie—the kinds of emotions that make you think nobody could possibly understand your experience. as a result, there is a profound sense of isolation and a difficulty integrating their emotional experiences into their self-expression. this only increases the intensity of the emotions, creating many situations of turbulence. sometimes the individual ends up completely blocking their emotions off to cope. only by facing their emotions head-on can they assuage these feelings and achieve a balanced state.
mercury – there is a tendency to get stuck in vicious cycles involving self-doubt and overthinking here. as a result, they sabotage their own efforts to make good decisions and communicate clearly. even a genius can make a fool out of himself. there can be this issue where they overthink sometimes and don’t think enough other times. they have this nagging feeling that they are missing some piece of information that is undiscovered or concealed from them. the final lesson is to trust the knowledge and experience they have to make the right decision.
venus – a profound sense of loneliness is pervasive throughout their life, as though every relationship they could have now would be empty and devoid of true connection. it’s entirely possible for these individuals to have trust issues, fall into unhealthy patterns in their relationships, and avoid intimacy. perhaps there is a part of themselves who feels they are unlovable in some way, or there is this one thing wrong with them, which they must forgive completely, the same way they would forgive and love another person.
mars – a desperation to act conflicts with a lack of confidence in their capability to do so. often this leads to them being frozen in the headlights like a deer, thinking, I have to do something but what if it’s wrong? the balance between too much and too little is blurred, leading to inconsistency and turbulence in their lives. they often end up in situations where they are forced to make snap decisions. re-calibrating their approach to conflict and matching their energy to the situation will relieve this problem.
jupiter – without thinking, these individuals over-indulge and rely on their luck and natural talents in some way. they want more of something, and it’s almost as though there is no satisfaction through receiving it. there is both a sense of hollowness and complacency that permeates as a result, and they forget how to materialize success through their own efforts. to remedy this, they must seek out growth, exploration, and expansion in its purest sense, to open their minds to a higher being or knowledge.
saturn – restrictive patterns are almost always the issue here. these individuals deprive them of something in their lives, not allowing even a moment of pleasure or reprieve from the overwhelming sense of responsibility they feel. external circumstances, especially in early life, have placed an undue burden on them, in some cases leading them to do anything to escape any responsibility placed on them later in life. to fix this, they have to let go of the guilt and fear they feel to give themselves back their agency.
uranus – how can they move forward? where is there to go that hasn’t been gone to before? in the same way that the sun in this degree struggles to find true authenticity in this liminal space, so too do these individuals struggle to find progression. somewhere they got stuck and stopped embracing their own unique qualities, which has made it impossible for them to then accept anything else. the final turning point here is to open their mind completely, to embrace entirely the open possibilities of the world.
neptune — this is the deepest recesses of this planet, where material reality as we know it does not even exist. at its most extreme, these individuals find it hard to live in this world because reality is simply too harsh for them in some way. escapism exists in its most extreme form, and the subconscious is too influential. and so, they need to escape themselves. here, the power has been given to a force that is not the individual, but rather something external to them. the task is to give this power back to the conscious individual, to escape the dream they have created for themselves and return to reality.
pluto — here, the complete death has occurred for the person. they have experienced the transformation, the change, and the end of the cycle. perhaps they have experienced in many times in their life. but the last stage hasn’t occurred yet. they become stuck before the rebirth stage, unable to complete the process. thus, the same situation happens over and over, re-opening wounds. the final turning point is to accept the change and open themselves up completely to renewal, to move on for good. lay it to rest.
part ii: the 0 degree
in contrast, the 0 degree is the very first degree of any zodiac sign. this is where the traits of the sign are most clearly and cohesively expressed, and also where there is the most to learn. you express this placement in a very raw, almost untouched way.
aries – there is a childlike innocence and naivete here, as well as an exaggerated impatience and sense of urgency. they feel that there is no time to wait. strong desire to be first and be a leader, even if they don’t know how to be one. there’s almost like a reckless quality to them. extremely assertive to a point of being hostile when others tell them what to do.
taurus – they are stubborn and fixed to the point of being unable to budge. it’s essentially impossible to stop the momentum once they’ve started, and they’re in it for the long haul. they can get stuck in their thinking and behavior patterns, doing the same thing over and over. absolutely must have stability and security in situations or they won’t commit.
gemini – absolutely no tolerance for boredom or lack of activity. they have to be doing something at all times, and often more than one thing. they’re extremely scattered. their curiosity drives them and they’re always asking questions or trying to learn more. they are constantly taking in information and changing their mind, never able to “settle.”
cancer – sensitive and emotional to the point where they can’t hide their feelings. here, there is someone who is very shy, cautious, and puts a protective shell around themselves. they have an intuition that is spot-on. very needy and moody. plays the role of caregiver and can be seen as a motherly figure. empathy is turned up all the way.
leo – they are completely self-focused and wants to be the center of attention. they want people’s eyes on them at all times, and they know how to light up a room. natural actors and tend toward being extremely dramatic. there is a sense of complete confidence in their abilities and pride in themselves. they refuse to settle for less than what they believe they deserve.
virgo – devoted to the service of others, typically in the form of providing feedback, criticism, and a helping hand. very critical and vocal about imperfections. they have an eye for detail that is unmatched. any form of disorganization or chaos is distressing to them, and they have highly specific routines and rituals. mind is constantly running to analyze and process information.
libra – cannot be alone whatsoever, and they are constantly seeking out connections with others. they are a complete pushover and seek out compromise in every situation. there is a desire to always seem agreeable and likeable. they often find themselves mediating for others, and there is an extreme need for harmony and balance. indecisive to the point of being paralyzed/hurt.
scorpio – the most private you’ll ever meet, and it’s impossible to get information out of them. feels the need to keep everything to themselves. has tons of secrets. they are super obsessive and will latch on to things quickly. needs control or to feel powerful in any situation. constantly on the defensive and trying to psychoanalyze the situation.
sagittarius – have an attitude of “it will all work out, don’t worry” even when they should be worrying. it’s impossible to tie down or get them to settle, because they have an intense need for freedom at all times. blindly faithful and optimistic. have a tendency to do things completely spontaneously. can feel claustrophobic when unable to freely act.
capricorn – absolutely rooted in tradition, even to the point of being narrow-minded. they constantly have to be going after success or achievement. the sense of responsibility is always present, which can lead to feelings of guilt or failure. an old soul from the beginning. a sense of “I have to get this right and prove myself” in anything they do.
aquarius – always has to be moving forward and making progress. extreme quirks are very possible here. highly open-minded and non-judgmental, and almost nothing surprises/shocks them. a savant, genius, or revolutionary. always at odds with figures of authority or traditionalists. a humanitarian to the extreme. they are ahead of their time.
pisces – hyper-sensitive to subtle influences and can be very spiritual or superstitious as a result. there’s an ever-present need to escape in some way, and they usually and have vivid imagination/rich fantasies. there can be a sense of directionlessness or shapelessness. the ultimate chameleon.
sun - feels the need for validation of who they are from others, projects a ton of confidence that they may not really have, very performative and forthright in expression.
moon - often blindsided by their emotions, has difficulty realizing their needs and wants, less polished about handling their feelings.
mercury - always curious and wants to know more, may present as a know-it-all or assert authority over topics,
venus - loves the newness of relationships, craves connection and romance, wants to be well-liked by others, rejection is hard for them.
mars - always in "go" mode, lots of energy and motivation, can be quick to anger or rile up, ends up in dangerous situations a lot.
saturn - inherently assumes responsibility, has to learn lessons multiple times, tries to be disciplined and fails often.
jupiter - lots of faith and optimism, definitely naive at heart, open to new experiences and chances for growth.
uranus - has a lot of small quirks, open-minded and progressive, has a mindset of wanting to keep moving forward.
neptune - rich imagination and a love for fantasy, feels directionless or like the possibilities are endless.
pluto - may struggle with changes or transformations, lots of growth ahead of them, a strong presence that is very raw.
finally, i'd like to link some resources for further reading:
· https://www.astro.com/astrology/aa_article190801_e.htm (my favorite--super in-depth and peer-reviewed/published!)
· https://advanced-astrology.com/anaretic-degree/
· https://www.astrologyweekly.com/blog/29-degrees-the-anaretic-degree/
#other#this one took a couple months to put together due to needed to do heavy research!#astrology#degree theory#degrees#astro#natal chart
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Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.
Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.
Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.
My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:
The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?
Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?
I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?
Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.
End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.
Other thoughts:
Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc.
As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.
What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.
I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content.
HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)
The facts:
They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you.
They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates).
Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies
Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.
Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache
Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.
Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.
Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.
As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.
Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse.
Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)
1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking).
Lucifer:
We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both
You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.
He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks
He’s not sloppy, just cozy.
Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one
When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair
Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).
Mammon:
GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)
He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything.
He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that
Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)
The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.
He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut
Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)
Leviathan
Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.
His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.
Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement
The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?
The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants
The loud laugher
He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in
Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well
Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down
Sways when he sits
When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair.
Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings.
Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.
Satan:
It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out
He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket
He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger
He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.
The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks
He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games
He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)
Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs
The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy
Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles
Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.
Asmo:
Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.
He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people
He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy
The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.
Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry
Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’
Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.
Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody
If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!
Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.
Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!
The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day
The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they��re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.
Beel:
The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol
Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.
Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.
He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else
Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring
Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree.
Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy
Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.
Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.
He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.
Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.
When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable.
Belphie:
Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.
His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.
He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent
Will try the funnel drink challenge.
The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.
Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually
The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.
Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.
Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.
The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.
The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!
#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader#Lucifer x Reader#Mammon x Reader#Leviathan x Reader#Levi x Reader#Satan x Reader#Asmodeus x Reader#Asmo x reader#Beel x Reader#Beelzebub x Reader#Belphie x Reader#Belphegor x Reader
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Happy new year!! Could i request mc running up to everyone to give them a surprise hug? I hope you have a wonderful day 😊
React to Surprise Hugs From MC!
Warnings: cuteness overload
Summary: How the Obey Me! characters would react to receiving a big surprise hug from MC
a/n: I LOVE SURPRISE HUGS SM THIS REQUEST MADE ME SO SOFT JDFHJKSLFLHDLK also omg this request came in a month ago I’m so sorry it took so long i really hope the quality makes up for lost time
- Lucifer isn’t exactly big on surprises since he is always so focused on business and follows strict schedules
- So when a body slams into his full force and wraps their arms around him he is shocked and stiff
- He scolds MC the first time it happens but on the inside he has zero thoughts. Like they all disappeared the second MC embraced him
- He begins to acknowledge their scent approaching him at quick rates and braces himself for the impact so he doesn’t drop any paperwork or get knocked over
- Every time they hug him he is stiff for the first few moments before he melts into the embrace with a content sigh and a slight upward tug at the corner of his lips (why didn’t i just write smile? idk i don't wanna talk about it)
- will occasionally give them a surprise hug as well
- when MC came running up from behind him and slammed into his back, wrapping their arms around his torso he was stunned for a moment, stuttering out gibberish and blushing
- “o-OI WHADDYA THINK YER DOIN’ HUMAN?!”
- his face is bright red and he acts like he doesn’t like it
- But the second MC tries pulling away so he’ll stop complaining he will turn around his wrap his arms around them tightly, resting his chin on their head to avoid eye contact
- “the g-GREAT Mammon never said he wouldn’t indulge ya, so... stay a little longer, yea?” he quietly spoke in a fragile voice
- He was so focused on his game that he had absolutely no clue MC was even in the room with him
- He was sitting on the floor holding his controller, but it was quickly knocked out of his hand by the force of MC slamming into him
- “M-MC?!” he stuttered out face bright red and his hands trembling with nerves and excitement
- MC tightened their grip around the purple haired navy general’s torso and hummed, nuzzling their face into his shoulder
- He won’t admit it but he doesn’t want them to stop, even if the embarrassment of having the human all over him kills him
- After he gets a bit more comfortable with MC
- He was browsing the RAD library, and MC spotted his back open for attack, so MC being MC they ran and tackled him from behind in a big hug, arms thrown over his shoulders, and the tips of their toes barely touching the ground
- At first he was annoyed, thinking some random succubi had chosen to throw themselves at him
- But the second he realizes it’s MC a soft smile comes to his face and he pushes them off gently to spin them around and hug them from the front
- “What is this all about, Kitten?” he asks, holding MC tightly to his chest
- When they respond telling him they just felt like giving him a surprise hug he blushes and hides his face in their hair, leaving a small kiss on their head before turning back to the books on the shelves
- Notices MC starts to give him a lot of surprise hugs when he is angry and it becomes one of the only ways he can calm down
- Asmodeus definitely gave a lot of surprise hugs beforehand, so it wasn’t anything new for them to embrace
- But for MC to come sprinting at him and leaping into his arms the second he turns to see who was running down the hallway makes his heart burst
- He is just so happy
- He will refuse to let go of them after and simply picks them up, wrapping their legs around his waist and carries them around with him while he does whatever he was doing
- Either that OR he will pinch their cheeks between his slender fingers in a teasing manner, smirking while cracking jokes about how they couldn’t help throwing themselves at the beautiful Asmodeus
- very soft and enjoys the embrace no matter how long or short it is, he just loves MC
- He was at the stove, cooking a midnight meal for himself when he suddenly felt a smaller body throw their arms over his shoulders and crashing into his tones back
- He turned his head slightly to the side and saw MC dangling off of him with their arms around his shoulders and their feet not even touching the floor at this point
- He blushes and smiles and asks them what’s up, trying to make friendly conversation
- Will also help their legs up so they can just chill out on his back like a koala while he eats
- He also will give them surprise hugs, but he is also very careful when doing so because he knows how big and strong he is and how easily he could hurt the poor human :(
- He was half asleep, dragging his tired body across the house to go eat dinner with his brothers and MC, when a body suddenly threw itself at him, knocking both of them to the floor
- He groaned and was a bit annoyed by MC’s behavior, but when he saw their little smile while they giggled at the situation, he simply rolled over and pulls them closer
- Insisted they just sleep then and there because MC was so warm and soft, he never wanted to let them go
- Beel literally had to pry his arms off of MC so they wouldn’t starve to death by missing dinner
- If MC is ever standing in front of a soft surface they better be ready to be tackled down by him from now on
- MC came sprinting to his office after classes were over and they threw themselves at him as he sat in his chair.
- Both MC, Diavolo, and the chair nearly broke but Diavolo was happy that MC was being so affectionate
- He will laugh at the mess they made from their surprise attack and insists they surprise him like this everyday after classes (even though it wouldn’t really be a surprise anymore)
- So from then on he always keeps a close ear for the final school bell to ring , and when it does he stands up , ready to catch the human in a tight hug
- Sometimes if he’s super focused he forgets to get up and MC and him break the chair, which poor Barbatos now has a closet full of identical chairs just for these occasions
- You can’t catch this man by surprise. you just. can’t.
- He will always turn to catch MC before they actually come in contact with him
- His instincts and sense of balance are so good that one time MC tested him by throwing themselves at him while he was serving tea to Diavolo, and the butler managed to not even move the tray of hot drinks when catching the human
- Find’s MC’s goofy smile that they give him afterwards very adorable and it is one of the only times you will ever see him blushing
- He is so soft for “surprise” hugs and occasionally he will pretend to be surprised, just to humor them
I’m sorry I had a crack idea so I had to write it so it isn’t as fluffy as the others
- All he heard was someone sprinting at him and he lowkey panicked so he put up a magic barrier between him in the footsteps
- He turned just in time to watch his fellow exchange student crash into said barrier and fall to the floor with a pained whimper
- he is stunned for half a second before taking down the barrier and sprinting to MC’s side
- He feels really guilty but is also a little sh*t about it
- MC: “WHY DID YOU DO THAT, YOU STUPID WIZARD?!”
- Solomon: “I FELT THREATENED, OKAY?!”
- Is pleasantly surprised when the human suddenly throws themselves in his arms
- Hugs them back tightly with a big smile and red cheeks
- He feels glad that MC feels safe and comfortable with him enough to do this to him
- He loves hugs so much i hc he is the best hugger in the entire game i don’t take criticism
- He will even swing them around a bit/do a little twirl when catching them for fun
- baby is embarrassed
- MC is huggign him like he is a puppy and he hates it at first
- but then he is like “oh,,, this is,,, n i c e”
- a v happy and good angel baby boy
- he hugged back after a few moments
#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#obey me headcanons#obey me headcannon#om! headcanons#obey me headcannons#om! headcannon#obey me hc#obey me hcs#obey me fluff hc#obey me lucifer#om! lucifer#obey me mammon#om! mammon#obey me leviathan#om! leviathan#obey me satan#om! satan#obey me asmodeus#om! asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#om! beelzebub#obey me belphegor#om! belphegor#obey me belphie#om! belphie#om! swd#om! beel#obey me beel#obey me levi
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( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )
Money’s something that makes the world go around. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag. You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.
That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash. You simply can’t let it go on.
pairing. jjk x f!reader.
genre + rating. idiots to lovers. fluff, angst, smut. the holy trifecta, babies! explicit, obviously.
tags / warnings. mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).
wc. 12.2k of nonsense. pure nonsense, i tells ya.
beta reader(s). @hobi-gif did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her. i love you both sm!!! ✨💜
author note. the long-awaited fic is here!! i really hope you enjoy it. if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something? i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot. anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you! stay safe and happy and healthy!
He’s a sucker. That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him. It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard.
His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove. Sometimes, she’s by herself; often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste. They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique. Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be. You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit.
“He has no idea.” It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts. “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”
How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder. How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair? It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie.
(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”. Her words, not yours.)
You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else. Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention. Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him. Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.
You’d never expected him to be like this.
Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face.
Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.
“He’s cute,” she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does. She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough. Zero tact, though. Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble. You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.
You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested. “Who?”
There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags. (God, what awful taste.) There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best. (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)
“Him.”
Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction. You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place. Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on. When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.
You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes. He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW. Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress is.
But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect. It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.
“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?” He upspeaks. It’s stupidly adorable.
Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first. A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect. “What’s the item and the name it’s under?” You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.
“Oh, it’s under mine. Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”
You’re floored. This is Jeon Jungkook? This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger? You’ve got to be kidding.
You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face. It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers. “I’ll grab it! The Box bag in cloud, right?”
Jungkook can only nod dumbly. He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends. He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance. It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears. There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.
It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.
“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend? I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.” Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off. “She said she was leaving on Friday.” Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made. “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”
It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall. You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.
You do feel bad. Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this. For hurting this stranger. (At least he knew?)
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality. He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip. He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet.
If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off. Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in. (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.) As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth. “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend. Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”
Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid. Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours. Poor guy.
“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”
Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say. Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation. “Oh, maybe. I’m sorry.” The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t. That’s a thing, right? Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?
God, you’re an altruist.
“It’s fine.” When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not. You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word. (You won’t.)
“Here it is!” Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands. If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing. You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand. He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.
Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying. You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.
He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.
By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start. Well then.
“I guess we’ll have to call him,” you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands. It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card. The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.
Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently. You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.
Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder. It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum. (You either, but still.)
“So… what was that about?”
You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers. “What?”
“You know— that!” She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago. “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”
“Scared of the truth,” you correct.
You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response. There it is.
“What?” There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable.
“What?” It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery. You can read every emotion that runs through her expression: shock, displeasure, confusion.
She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth. (She really does remind you of your little sister.) “So, you told him?”
You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder. You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now. There was no way he didn’t.
“I pointed out a few conflicting facts. That’s all.” You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done. You’d want to know if you were him. Consider it an act of goodwill.
The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind. What’s done is done. Now he knows, or something close to it. The chips would simply fall where they were meant to.
You have to admit - you’re rooting for him.
Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift. She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway. Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding. It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship.
It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening.
She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter. “You have to call him.”
You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression. “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.” You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person. Sensible.
As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.
You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front. You suppose it’s your responsibility now. You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell.
The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello?”
“Jungkook?”
There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?” Upspeaking again. How cute.
“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.” You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter. “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”
“O-oh, uh—“ It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice. Um, I can come pick it up today?” There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back. “Is that okay?”
Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out. He truly was a sucker.
“That’s fine. We’re open until six tonight.”
“I’ll be there before dinner.” As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough. “Before six, I mean. Um, is around five-thirty okay?”
You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation. Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation. “Of course. We’ll see you then.”
He hangs up immediately.
The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last. It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest. You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.
As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon. You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.
Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.
How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday. Somehow, you like it more. The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair. It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person. (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)
At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him. Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.
“O-oh. It’s you.” The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified. “I m-mean, just—” He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again. “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.” Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.
“That’s right,” you say evenly, expression neutral. It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.
The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary. Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room. You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.
He’s so awkward.
(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)
“So, um, my wallet?” He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store. You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.
“Right here.”
Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again. He makes the same trip twice more. “Can I have it?” To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed. He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress. Good job, you think.
“Of course.” You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter. Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip. You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything. (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment. Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)
This time, he closes the distance with three long strides. It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended. Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact. “May I have it, please?”
You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand. You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable. Is he going to say thank you? Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?
Neither, it seems. “Why did you do it?” There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.
“Do it?” You know what he means. You ask anyway.
“Why did you tell me?” Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you. You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him; it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side. For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.
Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies. It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his. “I thought you deserved to know.”
“But why?”
“What do you mean?”
It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror. He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.
You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head. It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.
“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.
You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.
He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin. (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes. Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)
“Excuse me.” For once, he doesn’t sutter. The lisp doesn’t present itself, either. Was this the same Jungkook? You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.
There he is.
“Yes, Jungkook?” He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name. How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit? It makes no sense to you.
“Can we talk?” The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no. You’ll still mess with him a bit though.
“We are talking.”
He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly. It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.
“I mean like— talk talk.” The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else. His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.
“Sure, we can talk talk.”
“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”
You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“W-what? No!” Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears. “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”
“I’m kidding. Let’s go.”
You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance. He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow. Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down. His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving. You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie. It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall. “Jungkook?”
He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly. “Huh?”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Um—” He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence. There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking. “—m-me?”
Brows furrow then amusement spills out. “You want to talk about… you?”
“That sounds bad.” The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.
“It’s fine. We’ll talk at dinner.”
He nods. You think it means thank you.
Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy. Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.
It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.
“What did you want to eat?” He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden. Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure. (You have a feeling it’s the former.)
“Whatever.” Everything here is incredible. You really don’t mind.
Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place. His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel. You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish.
When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections. Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.
“So?” You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.
He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute. “So?”
“What did you want to talk about?” If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often. As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper.
“Oh.” Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth. He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle. You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting. He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.
You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.
“I wanted to say thank you.”
It’s not the answer you’d expected. It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline. “What?”
He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot. You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip. Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.
“Thank you.” It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.
You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you. You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel. Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you. You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.
You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.
The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable. A little different, sure, but altogether nice. Like dining with an old friend.
You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake. You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water. “You’re welcome, I guess.”
Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not. His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does. (Seriously, how big are his eyes?) You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth. Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.
“What?” He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.
“What?” You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.
“Y-you’re staring at me.”
“You’re sitting in front of me.”
The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out. It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent. Oh?
“You don’t have to stare.” Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.
You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare. “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?” The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.
“That’s not my name.” The bite disappears past his teeth. You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.
“Sorry— Jungkook. Does my staring bother you?”
It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do. Juvenile in a way but enticing in another. You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.
“It’s rude,” he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.
“Maybe I’m just rude.”
He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down. (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.) “You’re not.”
You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation. He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations. He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.
It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea. Anything to busy his hands, you think.
“You don’t know that,” you finally return, after what seems like too long.
“I do.” He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact. “You care about people. You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone. You want to do what’s right. Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”
For once, you’re at a loss for words. Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.
How the tables have turned.
He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey. He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts. He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up. He decorates his apartment with the most random things: limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates. He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.
He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years. All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on. (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.) He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his). He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.
“I just… don’t like wasting my time,” he insists from behind his coffee cup.
“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”
Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable.
“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.” It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap. It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now. He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had. Youngin is good for him, though. You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.
“You say that a lot.”
“I mean it when I say it.”
He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips. When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone. “Girls are scary.”
You laugh. Cackle, really. You can’t help it. He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon. He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak. He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says. (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)
“Heights are scary. Death is scary. Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”
“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”
“Don’t interrupt.” He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest. From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture; from him, it’s patient. “Girls aren’t scary. Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.”
“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”
You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good. Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags. Like he’s living life in greyscale.
“Well, that’s what you have me for.”
The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze. Instead, he laughs. “I’m not hopeless.”
“Oh, but you are.” You’re adamant, insistent. He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft. An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.
You want to protect him, teach him to fly. Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.
You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes. He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it. He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.
“Fine,” he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long. It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused. It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.
“You won’t regret it.”
Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days. You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.
It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.
He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse. If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton. He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew). He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.
The girls would probably still love it. (It’s easy to love him.)
“What do you think?” It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso. It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm.
It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him. He wants great.
You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for. To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings. “Not bad…”
You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.
Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is.
How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence? (You wish you were joking.) It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.
“This one?” He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face. Medium-weight cashmere. Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist. It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.
“Look at you go,” you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels. “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”
Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law. You suppose it is.
“Thanks, ____,.” He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.
Your response is a shrug. “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.” You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates. You know there’ll be something good on the menu.
He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist. You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him. Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink. Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.
Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch. That was a viable plan, right?
You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other. “Hey! You’re leaving already?” It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone. It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.
There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes. For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes. “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.” A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.
Flowers, huh? Well, that’s certainly something new. Good for him, you think.
“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.” It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words. “She’s special.”
Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her. Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes). Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date. It’s a big deal.
“Yeah—“ Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky. “I guess she is.”
You smile fondly, like a proud mother. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
“I will,” he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.
You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place. It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look. “What?”
“Where are you going?”
“Leaving?”
“Why?”
Wasn’t that the million dollar question?
You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever). It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you. He’s going on a second date, after all. Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant. You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.
But it’s fine. Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine. The two of you are friends. You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come. Baby boy was growing up.
“Y’know.” You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment. It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.
“I know?” He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.
You wiggle your hand dismissively. “Second date and all that.”
Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on. It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots. “Just stick around. I’ll drive you home when I get back.”
It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him. “Fine. I’ll stay.”
He beams, caught halfway out the door. “Tell me to break a leg.”
“Go break her back,” you retort to the sound of his laughter.
You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake. It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.
It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook. This can only mean one thing.
from jeon jungkook: Hey.
from jeon jungkook: I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight.
from jeon jungkook: If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning.
from jeon jungkook: Please don’t be mad.
Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date. It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing. (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)
to jeon jungkook: i officially hate you
The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops. Of course. He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions. (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)
to jeon jungkook: it’s fine! have fun!
to jeon jungkook: turn her world upside down 😏
He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up. Good, you think. About time he finds someone nice. You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.
Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.
He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact. He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic.
“I want you to meet her,” he mumbles, like that makes it better. As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.
“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over. (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.) You repeat yourself.
“It’s not… weird.” But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is. Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately. “She wants to meet you too.”
(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)
You somehow highly doubt that. No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman. It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set. Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise. It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch. (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)
“What does she even know about me?”
“That we’re friends.” His vague response speaks volumes. The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery. When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway. “That I really value your opinion.”
You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.
“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!” Of course. It’s obvious. She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that. (He is.) “I’m not coming to dinner.”
“You’re already in the car,” he reasons.
You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve. Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.
“I just won’t go in.”
“____,.” When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him. Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal. Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.
“No.”
“____,,” he repeats, almost pleading. You can’t look at him. You won’t. The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.
You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause.
“Fine.” You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off. You’re not actually mad. Just worried. You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand. It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person. You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.
Jungkook knows that. Should, anyway. You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.
When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it. He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line. (Truthfully, it’s your fault. All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)
You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.
“You’re paying for my dinner.”
“Of course.”
How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat? How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?
Answer: you’ve lost count.
Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.
“What’re you doing here?” At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness. Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.
Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really). “C-can I come in?”
You don’t budge. It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired. So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance. He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin. You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.
(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)
You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day. “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”
“Please let me in,” the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well. Everywhere but your eyes.
“Fine,” you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold. You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else. If you had to guess, it’s her perfume. It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses. You don’t know if you like it.
Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.
You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter. You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.
You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare. “So?”
“W-what?”
It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning. Something’s happened. Must have. There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.
“What’s going on?” You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him. He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.
(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)
“What do you mean?”
The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression. He’s stalling, you can tell. You hate when he does this. You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small. “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced. What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”
He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.
It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges. You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual. Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned. (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)
With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.
He nods once - a small up and down of his head.
“So.” You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves. You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest. He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs. Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.
“I couldn’t do it.” The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said. Couldn’t do… it?
You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.
When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look. It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.
“You didn’t ask her?” It explodes out, a question that demands an answer.
He’s staring past your head, unblinking. You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp. “I c-couldn’t. It was just…” The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.
“Just what?”
“Just—” There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot. He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise. He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket. “It didn’t feel right.”
What did that even mean? Feel right?
Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete. It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down. Didn’t he understand that? Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?
You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.
“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’” You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window. “You like her, don’t you?”
You expect him to nod immediately. He doesn’t.
“Jungkook.”
“Yeah?”
“You like her, right?”
“I think so.”
You want to tear your own hair out. Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there. “So, you like her.” It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way; you don’t mean it in any way but supportive. You just want him to be happy. “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”
“She’s not you.”
He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer. But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise. Hope, maybe? Fear?
“What?” You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.
The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight. He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer. (It won’t.)
“Don’t say things like that.”
It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest. His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair. He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer. Bambi, through and through.
“You asked why I didn’t do it,” he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.
“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.” It’s cruel. “You’re making a bad choice. You’re into this girl. Don’t be dumb.”
His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements. “I’m not dumb.” There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask. It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.
He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.
When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.
“Okay. Spill.”
Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question. You can’t blame her. You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.
All because of a doe-eyed idiot.
“What?” It’s less snark, more sigh. You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter. “You’ve been in a bad mood all week. I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.” She’s right, of course. You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what. “Did something happen?”
You grit your teeth. An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.
“____,” she tries again, concerned.
“Nothing happened.”
“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!” She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly. “You look like hell—”
“Thanks.”
“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough. So just tell me?”
You hate that she’s right. It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload. (Maybe it’d be helpful. Probably. But you’ve never found comfort in other people. At least, not like this.)
“Yejin.” Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on. “It’s fine. Really.” You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I just need to get some sleep.” And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.
Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.
The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action. It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.
(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)
“You’re here.” You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater. He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.
“Y-you asked,” he mutters, refusing to meet your stare. At least, you think he’s refusing. It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes. It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away. It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.
“Will you come in?” You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated. He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding. “I won’t bite.”
You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.
“So.” This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him. He hums a noise but offers nothing further.
This is how it’ll be then. Fine. If he wants to be this way.
“You like me.”
He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go. He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth. “I— I don’t— I didn’t say that.”
If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.
“Tell me why.”
The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now. Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.
“W-what?”
“Tell me.” You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round. “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters. What have I got that she doesn’t?”
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”
The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. You think he might say no, outright refuse. You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.
“You’re funny. You’re honest. You speak your mind.” You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people. He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him. “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t. You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”
For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen. As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.
“I don’t—”
“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.” He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again. “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”
There’s something thick in your throat.
“You make me want to try.” He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it. “Y-you make things not so scary.”
It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you. He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.
“You know what I need, even before I know myself. You make me laugh.” He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.” You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit. Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.
You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs. Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.
When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words. They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism. “I can’t.”
As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention. “Can’t or won’t?”
“I—”
“I’m not asking for the world here. Just a chance.” He’s got a peculiar look on his face. “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”
“Excuse me?”
All of a sudden, he’s close. Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be. There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down. The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.
“You kind of ruined my life. I think this makes us fair.”
You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense. You’d ruined his life? (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.) You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.
Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.
“I’m kidding.”
It feels like whiplash. You’ve created a monster.
“But you do owe me, I think. So why not?”
You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.
Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing. He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams.
He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out. He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed. He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money. He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.
You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him). If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either. Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.
(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge. He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)
“Open it,” he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.
You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you. You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom. “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”
Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff. It’s adorable.
“Just open it.”
You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends. You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head. You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.
Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.
You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups. Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.
Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together. Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects. Surely there’s more to this. Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?
“Do you like it?” You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.
“What is it?”
“It’s a playsuit.”
“A playsuit?” You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in. Would it even fit? Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.
He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns. “Will you wear it?”
It fits you better than you’d expected. Or at least, you think it does. If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim.
The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal. He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.
“S-so wet,” he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds. The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs. He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick. “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.
“Use your words, gorgeous.” As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.
The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck. He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.
“What did I say?”
Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob. Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh. He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.
When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be. The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.
“You like this, don’t you?” His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy. “You like what I’m doing?”
“Y-yes,” you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts. The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin. Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.
“Good girl.” Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips. You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall. Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips. “Such a good girl for me. My perfect girl.”
Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.
“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she? Wants me to fill her up?”
He’s teasing you, the bastard. Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate. It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest. Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.
“Say it. Say you want me.”
You do, without hesitation, without fear. You know he’ll catch you. “I want you.”
He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same. Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.
Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm. The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.
“B-be mine,” he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer. Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.
“I am. I am. I am,” you chant, tears welling along your lash line. They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.
They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you. It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you.
It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much. Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.
You’re his and he’s always been yours.
tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings @veronawrites @notmontae97 @papillonsgf i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e
#goldenclosetnet#magicshopnet#ficswithluv#thebtswritersclub#networkbangtan#heartsforbts#bts#bts au#bts imagine#bts fic#bts oneshot#bts angst#bts smut#bts jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#work.zip#oneshot.zip#devil.doc#jungkook.doc
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hiii may i request sfw and nsfw hcs of megumi x a reader that reminds everyone of a little bunny?
yes absolutely u can i love furthering my bunny reader agenda thank you for this, also i hope this is what you wanted!
CONTENT WARNING: sfw & nsfw (MDNI), teeth rotting fluff, megumi being a jealous stoic fuck, swearing, sukuna makes an appearance (and is his own warning), yuji is too nice or a simp you decide, gojo being himself, dom! megumi x sub!reader, fem bodied reader (kinda not really), size kink, slight corruption kink if you read into it, megumi can get a little mean, rough sex, oral (reader receiving), mating press, reader is a lil dumb n we love them <3, that being said there’s a slight dumbification kink here, very slight degradation and dacryphilia
i.
SFW
over the log and under the brush... no one can find out how the hell someone like you got with megumi— or, more accurately, how someone with megumi got with you.
a classic case of opposites attract? perhaps. even still, at first glance, the two of you seem wholly incompatible, regardless of balance, and megumi has not heard the end of it since the first time his friends saw you bounce up to him and peck him sweetly on the nose. (that was the first of many times he wished a curse might burst out of the ground and swallow him whole, but still, he didn’t push you away).
gojo, obviously, gives him a special type of hell. the grin on his face when he first saw you, sweet and skittish and bubbly as could be, was nothing short of wolfish. you were such a cute little thing, and even as he nudged megumi about how weak you might’ve seemed, he was never rude to you. that would’ve been too easy, and as dickish as he is, you didn’t deserve it.
no— megumi was his target, after all, and he didn’t have to be mean to you to mess with him. every subtly filthy and vulgar joke imaginable left his mouth, and he was always torn over if he enjoyed the way you flushed and hid behind megumi, or the way megumi’s stoic facade shattered so easily. he’d called him every name in the book after that; not that it’d had much effect. gojo got too much of a kick out of it, and you were just too cute.
“where’s thumper?”
megumi glanced up, brows furrowing.
“come again?”
he didn’t need to peek beneath gojo’s blindfold to see him roll his eyes. and, worse, he didn’t particularly care for the growing grin that quirked his mentor’s lips.
“thumper? yea-high, only sorcerer scared of their own shadow, cute little ass—“
megumi recoiled in immediate disgust, glaring daggers at his friend.
“i get it, asshole.” he paused, seemingly torn between indulging his curiosity and desperately wishing to break gojo’s teeth in. “why thumper?”
gojo shrugged.
“the nose thing.”
megumi couldn’t disagree. you did have a habit of twitching your nose whenever something bothered you; it was one of many reasons why you were so easy to read. (you also had a tendency to tap your foot when you were anxious, but he didn’t need to fuel gojo’s fire).
yuji was, expectedly, equally as stunned when he met you, seeing you peek out shyly from behind megumi’s back and waving at him, smiling brightly despite your apparent shyness. when he’d smiled back, you perked up immediately, rushing to greet the boy with stunning enthusiasm. (megumi had tried not to grind his teeth. he, of course, failed miserably).
unlike gojo though, yuji seemed to understand you two together more than anyone else. sure, it was a little weird, seeing someone as excitable and friendly as you standing next to a man he wasn’t sure knew what smiling was, but when he really thought about it, it made sense.
megumi, for all his nihilistic spew, had a hero’s heart. he wanted to save the world, protect the innocent, and you were about as innocent as it could get. and further, you weren’t the type to fall prey to the encroaching thoughts of inevitable misery many of the other sorcerers did, that megumi did, and it kept him from drowning in them.
you also trusted megumi, that much was glaringly obvious. you bounced around beside him, clinging onto his hand and ducking behind him when you were unsure (if someone looked a little closer, they would’ve seen the way megumi was the one squeezing your hand tighter so you wouldn’t let go, and gently pushing you behind him when he thought there was a threat). as scared as you sometimes seemed to be at every little thing, if megumi was around, you acted like you could take on the world.
you were skittish, yes, but not stupid. you knew your limits, and megumi knew you would be okay without him. still, it was easy to forget, because you just seemed so small sometimes. perhaps not physically, but when you curled into yourself or shied behind him, or when you bounced excitedly or twitched your nose, it was hard to remember how powerful you really were.
this was especially hard to remember when sukuna had gone after you, just to fuck with megumi. he failed, and since then, had made countless comments about missing ‘the little bunny’. strangely, you didn’t seem scared when sukuna emerged. you didn’t even hide behind megumi (and he desperately wished you did).
toji is a complete pervert towards you im so sorry
NSFW
megumi is, at his core, a raging fucking hypocrite. for as protective as he is, and as delicate as he insists you are, he seems to have no issue rutting into you like a goddamn animal.
he doesn’t mean to be rough, but sometimes it’s the only way he can reign you in. you’re so bouncy and so flitty, especially when you ride him, he has to bring you back down to earth.
you’re so easily excitable and sometimes you get these dumb ideas in your cute little head and, as usual, almost hurt yourself. you never want to let him prep you, always insisting that you can take him when you know you can’t, pawing at his belt and whining, begging him to let you ride him.
he usually ends up having to pin you down so he can take care of you, making you cum on his tongue at least twice before you even think about taking him.
sometimes, though, he just lets you do it because you just won’t fucking listen, and mocks you for crying because you did it to yourself
he lets you bounce yourself on his cock, and, as usual, has to grip your hips and force you to slow down because you overwhelm yourself so easily, you’re so sensitive and it’s like you forget that every time
it’s easiest when he has your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half as he drives into you, almost chuckling at each little squeak you let out. then, at the very least, he doesn’t have to worry about his dumb little bunny hurting themselves.
* he always takes such good care of you though, especially after, cradling you close to him like you’re the most precious, fragile little thing he’s ever held (and like he didn’t just rearrange your insides), happy that he can keep you safe from the world, even if only for a little while.
#megumi x reader#megumi smut#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#🍒.poppedcherries
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“What hardship will you have to go through before meeting your person?”
Hello! Welcome to my first PAC reading! There are only three piles to choose from, and they’re a bit similar from one another, so as much as possible, choose only one! Please keep in mind that this is a general reading, so take only what resonates and leave the rest. Relax, take a deep breath and meditate if you need to, and hopefully my readings resonate with you! Let’s begin!
Decks used:
Star Spinner Tarot by Trungles
Witchlings Oracle Deck by Paulina Cassidy
Love Quotes and Lyrics Deck by Yours Truly (ahehe)
PILE 1: The Japanese Footbridge, 1899
Cards: Empress, Queen of Coins ®, VI of Wands, Intuition, Wellness, Happiness
Around the time that you meet your person, you’ll have issues with balancing your personal and professional life. Perhaps these two worlds of yours have collided? Either way, you’ll feel tired for trying to be responsible and cleaning up after other people’s messes. It seems you’ll be at your limit, and it will show.
At this time, it will be important for you to take a step back and just let things be; leave people to their own devices. They can handle themselves. Take time to take care of yourself and to do what’s best for you. After you tend to your own garden, you will emerge victorious, and this is where you’ll be able to even think about entertaining the possibility of finding love.
And so shall you wish it, so shall it be. Romance. A new beginning with someone generous and comforting; someone you can rely on, someone who will provide for you (if that’s what you want.) You’ll be glowing by the time that you meet them, and they’ll be quite enamored with you. You know that scene in 500 Days of Summer where Tom ends up meeting someone new after he gets his life back together? It’s like that.
“I believe that you’ll always be the person I adore.” -Sayaka Saeki
“You have bewitched me, body and soul.” -Jane Austen
PILE 2: The Houses of Parliament, Sunset, 1903
Cards: Emperor ®, VI of Swords, IV of Swords ®, Intuition, Wisdom, Wish
It started raining when I started working on this pile, but it stopped not too long after. Later on, one of my cats woke up and tried to hop on my table, but I stopped her before she could do it. I’m taking these as signs of you wanting to do something, getting started on it, but not being able to finish or follow through with it.
You will be in a place of hurt; perhaps from a toxic relationship? At this time, you must set boundaries for yourself, and respect the walls that you have put up for your own sake. You will want to put some distance between you and the hurt you have felt. You will want to move on, start over, leave everything behind you. It will be difficult because this means that you will also be leaving certain things or certain people that you love behind, but you must listen to your heart. You will be homesick, but you must be strong.
It won’t be very easy to forget and move on. After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day. You will feel quite tired, you’ll feel and know that you must rest but you think to yourself that you can’t afford to do so. At this time, it might be easy for you to fall into negative thinking. You must remember that the energy you bring out into the world will be brought back to you, but you must never forget that it is always important to acknowledge your negative emotions. Please don’t bottle them up inside. It’s definitely difficult, but getting negative feelings out in the open will prove to be healthy for you in the long run. The angel number 111 popped into my mind while I was doing this reading, so pay attention to your intentions. What is it that you really want? You know the answer.
By the time that you meet your person, perhaps you won’t be able to start a relationship right away because you’re still working on yourself, or perhaps your person is waiting for your signal so you can start your journey together, but you might feel hesitant. It will be okay, you can let yourself love again. They will be there to help you get through the night. The sun will rise and with them, you can try again.
“Break my heart. Break it in pieces. I give you permission.” -Cassandra Clare
“If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting the rest of our lives.” -Lemony Snicket
PILE 3: The Artist’s Garden in Argenteuil (A Corner of the Garden with Dahlias), 1873
Cards: III of Swords ®, II of Swords, III of Wands, Euphoria, Confidence, Nurture
Ah, another heartbroken pile, I see. You are dealing with the aftermath of heartbreak, the grief of losing someone that you can no longer call your person, and vice versa. Allow yourself to cry, be sad, be upset; just let it all out. It’s okay, your feelings are valid.
In an attempt to move past this, you will work on your personal goals, or perhaps you will focus on work. Here, things are going quite swimmingly. Your plans will come into fruition, and your dreams will turn into a reality. There might be times where you feel doubt, and this will make you want to push yourself, but you must keep in mind to take care of yourself. Do not doubt yourself, your abilities and what you want. If it makes you feel happy, why not go for it?
While I was working on this pile, it started raining again, but it was much stronger. Additionally, lots of the cards kept jumping out while I was shuffling. I see this as a sign of abundance, an outpour of blessings. But you might feel scared; overwhelmed, even, at the thought of a new love coming towards you. They have so much to offer you, but you might think that it’s too good to be true. You might think, “Things can’t possibly go this well, right?” Well, they can. You, the person who went through thunderstorms, will serve as a ray of sunshine to someone new. They have just what you want and need. Believe that you deserve to be happy, because you do.
“You, who opened suns in my heart.” -Alfonsina Storni
“But the horror, the horror was for love.” -Crimson Peak
That concludes my first PAC! I really hope you liked it, and I really, really hope your pile resonated with you. Please feel free to leave feedback, I will be very happy and thankful to receive such! Thank you so much and please stay safe always, much love! 💕
-Elle
Copyright © 2021 Astrology Readings by Elle, All Rights Reserved
#tarot#tarot reading#love reading#tarot community#lovereading#tarotcommunity#future spouse reading#tarotblr#daily tarot#tarot readings#pick a card#pick a card reading#pick a pile#pick a pile reading#astrology#astro notes#astro community#astrology community#astrology notes#free tarot readings
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