#but vy never takes it off if vy can't help it :)
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How they react when you're jealous
Ft. Wanderer (Scaramouche); Xiao; Zhongli; Childe; Venti; Albedo; Tighnari
(gender neutral reader but Childe refers to them as "princess"/"prince" once)
⭐ Wanderer
+ This man is actually insufferable, good-fucking-luck
+ He acts so smug 'cause of course you'd be jealous, he's revered and worshipped by the masses!! (he's not)
+ Will probably cockily tell you you'll just have to get used to it, he's a god afterall so it's expected that he'll have many loyal fans all vying for his attention—
+ It's all a farce
+ In reality, he's kind of in shock that you'd really be jealous over him, the useless puppet discarded by his own mother—but that's his unresolved insecurity and mommy issues talking
+ He'll keep up the façade and tease you for a while until he realizes you're genuinely upset—then he'll find some roundabout way to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, he only has eyes for you...of course he'll never directly admit that, though
"Hah, you're jealous? What a foolish human emotion—of course I'll be adored by thousands..."
The Wanderer cuts himself off as he takes in your tense form, brows furrowed and eyes looking anywhere but him as you quietly seethe. His chest clenches in that weird way it only seems to do when you're involved.
"Wait...don't tell me you're actually angry...?"
You don't show any signs you even heard his question and the Wanderer sighs dramatically, averting his own gaze to hide his reddening cheeks as he mumbles his next words.
"You have nothing to worry about, idiot...you're way above any of those other weaklings anyway."
⭐ Xiao
+ I'm sorry but he literally is incapable of understanding that you're jealous
+ Like...he can barely even process that you like him, let alone recognize the advances of another random human who is interested in him. The time he even spends with others is extremely limited unless you're involved so there aren't many chances for anyone to talk to him
+ If it's something like another adepti or half-adepti, like Ganyu, who he's been spending a lot more time with lately training, you might feel insecure by your own mortality, which Xiao can somewhat understand but still doesn't get the jealousy part
+ Tries his best to try to comfort you though, even if it means shyly asking Zhongli or Verr Goldet
+ Surprisingly ends up coming to the best solution—spending more time with you
You nearly jump out of your skin when you turn to find the figure of your boyfriend standing behind you on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You're certain he wasn't there just five minutes ago.
"Huh? Shouldn't you be training Ganyu today...?" You ask, feeling slightly sick at the mention of the pretty half-adeptus girl. She was a sweetheart and a great friend but you can't help but to think about how much time she's been spending with Xiao. You're sure she doesn't have any ulterior motives but you can't help but to think about how much prettier and stronger she is compared to you. Surely Xiao sees it too...
"We agreed to take a break for today," Xiao immediately answers, slowly stepping forward until his cheat is nearly touching the back of your arm, so close you can smell the faint traces of his natural scent—something fresh and crisp like the mountain air.
"Instead...I want to spend some time with you—if you'll allow it." He says softly. You momentarily freeze, not used to Xiao initiating dates. Unperturbed, he continues speaking.
"I thought we could do that mortal activity you told me about before. I think it was called...a picnic?"
⭐ Zhongli
+ The god who has ruled over humans for over 2,000 years—of course he's familiar with such a common emotion like jealousy. Even if he himself has yet to experience it
+ He would never assume you were jealous unless you openly tell him about it
+ But then he's quick to assuage your worries and maybe even propose some sort of compromise that can satisfy you both
+ Spends a night absolutely spoiling you until you hardly remember you were ever jealous in the first place, if that's what you so desire
"Ah, it seems you may have misunderstood my relationship with the funeral director, I apologize if I caused you any discomfort," Zhongli tells you earnestly, gently holding your hands in his own, much larger ones and holding your gaze so intensely you find it impossible to look away.
"Now tell me, my dear, how may I settle your worries? Perhaps we should take some time away, just the two of us?"
⭐ Childe
+ Idk how you even got jealous in the first place cause this man is glued to your hip
+ Slightly flattered when he recognizes your signs of jealousy cause he just sees it as proof of how much you care about him
+ It may feel a bit demeaning at first but he will not take your jealousy seriously. He baby talks, pinches your cheeks, and teases you but will not show any genuine concern—not because he doesn't care about your feelings, but because he's so sure that he only has eyes for you that he thinks your jealously is completely unreasonable in the first place
+ As a big fan of PDA, he takes the advantage to be more touchy and affectionate with you in public under the guise of "showing everyone he's yours"
+ If anything, he's the one whose always jealous when another person takes so much as a second of your attention—but you don't need to know that
"Aww, is my prince/ss pouting now? Ahaha, don't look at me like that!" Childe effortlessly dodges the elbow you aim at his ribs after he pinches at the fat of your cheek for the third time today.
Not perturbed in the least, Childe sticks himself to your side and continues to grin down at you, uncaring of the strangers who glance at you two with strange looks as you make your way through the busy streets of Liyur Harbor.
"Here, how about I make it up to you and we go on a lunch date? My treat!"
⭐ Venti
+ Another one who doesn't take your concerns seriously
+ However, unlike most of the other men, it's pretty reasonable to be jealous with how Venti talks to everyone
+ He's naturally romantic and seems to possess no clear boundaries, leading to him saying things that could be construed as flirtatious without him even realizing it
+ When he's tipsy on dandelion wine, it's not unusual to see him belting out ballads and serenading anyone nearby willing to give him the time of day—though, in reality, his love songs are all actually written about you
"Oh, my windblume is feeling a bit jealous?"
You don't bother providing a response but Venti doesn't seem to need one.
"Ehehe, so cute," he coos, shamelessly wrapping his arms around you. Any feelings of jealousy you hold are quickly being replaced with embarrassment at how other patrons in the crowded bar frequently glance at you and your loud boyfriend.
"No worries, my love, this poor bard's heart only beats for you! I'll even prove it with this song I wrote..."
⭐ Albedo
+ It's Sucrose, isn't it?
+ They spend all those hours locked up in a small lab room in the depths of Dragonspine—its only natural that you'd feel suspicious right?
+ Wrong
+ When he's not with you, Albedo literally only thinks about his experiemnts or drawing. In fact, the times you and Albedo are together are really the only time anyone ever sees Albedo actually listen to someone outside of the Knights of Favonius and talk about things that aren't directly related to alchemy
+ As the so-called "chalk prince," it's not that uncommon for people to find him physically attractive and try their luck—but any deeper feelings usually vanish when they realize he has no interest in them. That and his blank stares can get rather unsettling...
+ If you do get jealous about Albedo being around anyone, it will eventually go away on its own as you realize this man is literally incapable of recognizing flirting
+ (Also, Sucrose is literally an angel and would never jeopardize your relationship. Like, she actively ships you guys together, pls—)
"...which is a particularly unique property for this chemical given it's electronegativity. In fact—oh, [Name], what are you doing here?"
You try very hard not to laugh at the relieved expression the woman Albedo was previously lecturing shoots you. She wastes no time slipping out of the lab while Albedo is distracted, his ocean deep eyes staring at you with a mix of surprise and quiet adoration.
"Ah, it's about lunch time and I don't have any commissions today so I thought we could go get something to eat together. Sorry if I'm disturbing you—"
"Not at all," Albedo interrupts, quickly putting away the glass vial he previously held and removing his latex gloves.
"A visit from you is never a disturbance," Albedo admits plainly, oblivious to the way his words make your chest squeeze.
"Now let's go. If we hurry, we might be able to make it to that place you like before they get crowded."
⭐ Tighnari
+ Lmao what are you jealous of, a flower?
+ This is another Science Man™️ who literally sees nothing but his work. Unless there's a rare sentient species of seductive mushrooms in Sumeru with it's sights set on fennec fox boys, you have nothing to worry about
+ Collei sees him as something akin to an older brother figure and Tighnari is too sassy for anyone else to get close unless they're interested in joining the forest watchers
+ If you tell him you're jealous, he's probably going to call you an idiot for even thinking he's interested in anyone else
Tighnari looks almost annoyed at your confession, glancing up from his journal only to shoot you a glare.
"Hah? Did you accidentally eat some hallucinogenic mushrooms again? I don't have enough time entertain things like that. What a ridiculous accusation."
Annoyance bubbles up inside you but, before you can act on it, Tighnari is already standing from his desk, striding over to you quickly to gently pull you along with him.
"Now come with me. I found an interesting flower on the outskirts of camp I think you'd like."
The proud grin highlighted by the sparkle in his eyes as he looks up at you quickly cuts off any protests you were going to make.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#albedo x reader#Tighnari x reader#venti x reader#childe x reader#genshin scenario#genshin imagine#genshin hcs#genshin fluff
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141 + König Jealousy Headcannons
Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️
Warnings: sexual references, mild angst
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Simon Ghost Riley-
When He Gets Jealous -
While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him
That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach
He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it
May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it
It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.
When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE
When You Get Jealous -
Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention
Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement
That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up
When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him
Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.
Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home
König-
When He Gets Jealous -
Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet
He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious
He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does
He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you
Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you
When You Get Jealous -
Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous
He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous
He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice
Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad
Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better
John Price-
When He Gets Jealous-
This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone
Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.
Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself
If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.
9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you
Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)
When You Get Jealous-
When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it
Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)
Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up
Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it
Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride
Kyle Gaz Garrick-
When He Gets Jealous-
Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you
He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry
If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you
When You Get Jealous-
Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down
Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home
He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you
He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
When He Gets Jealous-
Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous
When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)
Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner
If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you
May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his
When You Get Jealous-
Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it
If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous
When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)
If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home
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#simon riley imagine#cod imagine#mw2 imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#konig x reader#konig imagine#konig mw2#captain price#price x reader#price imagine#john price#gaz imagine#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader
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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [2]
Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 7.7k
Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
"Go home, hyung, and think carefully about what I've said," Yunho insisted, ushering the dressmaker out of his clinic, "I really can't talk right now; I need to close up."
As Hongjoong made his way back to his shop, an internal struggle ensued between his mind and heart. His mind urged him to proceed with the job, reminding him he had no reason to be so troubled. Yet, his heart protested, insisting that it wasn't right. By going along with this, he would be complicit in someone's unhappiness.
Various scenarios played out in his mind as he imagined the aftermath of the makeover he was about to undertake. There was no doubt that you would attract attention from all directions, which wasn't the issue. He could picture potential suitors vying for your hand, but the thought unsettled him for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.
By the end of the night, his rational side prevailed, leading him to choose to proceed with the job. He concluded that entrusting another dressmaker with your makeover was out of the question; after all, he was the best in all of Joseon. You said it yourself; what you liked or wanted did not matter. If you were willing to comply with your family's wishes, then who was he to object?
He chastised himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgement. Despite feeling bad for you, he reminded himself that you were simply another customer. He shouldn't allow himself to be so affected by matters that were none of his concern.
Over the next few days, he dedicated himself entirely to crafting the most exquisite hanbok. He meticulously coordinated every detail, ensuring it would meet the approval of your family. As he finalised the sketch of your ensemble, along with the hairstyle and makeup he envisioned for you, he couldn't help but notice the absence of a smile on his drawing of you. It dawned on him that he had never seen you smiling, not even once.
Although a part of him entertained the idea of coaching you to flash a killer smile, his heart twinged at the realisation that any smile he coaxed would be forced, "Snap out of it, you idiot!" he scolded himself, shaking off the unnecessary thoughts and redirecting his focus to other aspects of the design.
In the meantime, Hongjoong's name seemed to echo through your days ever since his arrival. Your family would lavish him with endless praise for his dedication to his craft, simultaneously lecturing you for not being more courteous toward him, for expecting him to seek you out without you bothering to greet him upon his arrival. If only they were aware of the cruel words he had uttered to you recently. Would they still support him so fervently? Perhaps they would side with him and reprimand you even further for not showing him enough appreciation.
"My dear, why not try being a bit more hospitable today and give Mr. Kim a little tour during his visit, hm?" your mother suggested during breakfast, her tone tinged with exasperation, "It's hard to believe he's already been here twice and has only seen the library and your quarters. Take him around the gardens, at least, will you?"
You pursed your lips, feeling a hint of irritation rising within you, though you didn't show it, "But mother, he's here to work. He's not a guest. Why should we extend such hospitality to him?" you muttered, taking another bite of your food.
Haeun scoffed in response, "Are you even listening to yourself? Mr. Kim is doing you a huge favour. He even closed his shop just to come here for you. The least you could do is show him some courtesy," your father and brother instantly agreeing with her.
Feeling frustrated, you decided to keep your mouth shut, realising that nothing you said would ever satisfy your family when they teamed up against you to highlight your supposed shortcomings.
This is dumb, he's getting paid anyway.
"What a pleasant surprise, Miss Baek! How kind of you to finally greet me and offer to take me on a tour!" the dressmaker exclaimed with raised brows as he was met with your blank stare while you stood waiting by the entrance of your family estate.
Shaking your head, you gestured for him to follow you, "Trust me, Mr. Kim, it's not my idea, and I dread this as much as you do. Please endure it for a bit for the sake of pleasing my family."
He blinked, trying not to let your bluntness affect him. He should know better than to be surprised by your straightforwardness by now. Nodding quickly, he rushed to catch up to you, already several steps ahead, apparently unconcerned whether he was following or not as you began the tour, "Right, my lady! Of course!"
Amused, he chuckled softly to himself at your bored expression as you walked past main areas like the living hall and dining hall before reaching places he recognised. Speaking in a monotone, you pointed out, "You've already seen these places. This is the library, and my quarters are just over there, but you already know that."
Turning to him, you furrowed your brows, "Is there anything funny?"
Biting his lip to suppress his laughter, he shook his head, "Not at all, Miss Baek. Please continue," he reassured, finding your reluctance somewhat endearing.
His eyes widened in wonder as you both arrived at what appeared to be a small play area for the children, "This is a mini playground my father had our servants create for his grandchildren," you explained, gesturing toward your nieces and nephews who were running around joyfully, their laughter echoing through the air. Glancing over at you, he noticed a hint of envy in your eyes, as if you longed to experience the simple happiness the children were enjoying.
After a moment, you took a deep breath and shook off the sentiment, "Well, let's move on to other areas then. I'm sure you don't have all day, Mr. Kim," you said briskly.
Without giving him a chance to reply, you headed off in another direction. He sighed before running after you again, silently cursing you for keeping him on the move. Yet, despite that, he couldn't find it in him to muster any irritation toward you. There was something about your behaviour that felt refreshing. For once, he appreciated being treated simply as another person, rather than being placed on a pedestal for all his accomplishments or appearance.
Arriving at your next location, you remarked rather sarcastically, "Of course, we can't forget the most crucial place in the entire estate, the kitchens," your voice hushed to avoid attracting attention from the busy maids for fear of disrupting their work.
Just as you were both about to leave, a burst of laughter echoed through the kitchen, accompanied by a blunt remark, "I bet the young miss will end up divorced early in her marriage, even if she miraculously finds a suitor after the makeover Mr. Kim gives her. She's an absolute nightmare! What sane man could tolerate her for long?"
Hongjoong felt his blood boil at the audacious words, growling under his breath, "How dare they—" He clenched his fists and took a step toward the door, seemingly ready to confront them.
Surprised by his reaction, you reached out and grasped his wrist, causing him to look down at your hold before meeting your gaze with a questioning expression. You sighed heavily, "Forget it, there's no point in doing whatever you intend to do. I'm already hard to like as it is, and I don't want them to dislike me even more than they already do. Let's just get out of here, Mr. Kim."
Feeling a pang in his chest, he couldn't shake off the aggravation that washed over him at the acceptance in your tone. The realisation that you were well aware of everyone's dislike towards you, yet you had resigned yourself to enduring it, stirred an unsettling mix of emotions within him. Just how long had you been suffering all this alone?
When he remained rooted in his spot, you squeezed his wrist and whispered, "Please, can we just go?"
With a defeated expression, he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, "Fine, as you wish."
As you both left the kitchen behind, his mind buzzed with unanswered questions. Why wouldn't you stand up for yourself? And why wouldn't you let him be the one to defend you? It frustrated him to no end. He couldn't comprehend how someone as strong-willed as you could endure such treatment.
The weight of your silence hung heavy in the air, leaving him feeling helpless and conflicted. He wanted to reach out, to offer some form of solace or support, but he couldn't find the right words. Instead, he walked alongside you in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help you.
Glancing at him, you could easily discern his struggle to contain his annoyance. But what you couldn't understand was why he seemed more bothered by it than you, especially considering his apparent dislike toward you. Eager to move past the incident, you decided to follow your mother's suggestion and led him to the gardens.
"I hope you like flowers, Mr. Kim," you offered as you strolled among the blooms, "These are some of my mother's proudest collections, gathered from other provinces."
Relief washed over you as he appeared to be distracted, showing genuine interest as he examined some of the rare flowers not typically found in this area.
Giving him a moment alone, you scanned the area, straining to hear a faint meowing. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted a cat stranded atop a tree. Without hesitation, you rushed forward, calling out, "Don't worry, kitty! I'll rescue you!" Your hands reached for the tree branch as you searched for a secure foothold to climb.
"Ooh, this one's pretty! Where did this come from?" he pondered aloud, his brow furrowing at the lack of response. Glancing up, he did a double take upon seeing you attempting to scale a tree.
Hastening over, he halted your ascent with a firm grip on your arm, "I turn away for one second and—have you lost your mind? What in god's name do you think you're doing?!"
Clicking your tongue in frustration, you pointed to the poor little distressed animal above, "Let me go. I'm going to save the cat, whether you like it or not."
The dressmaker sighed in exasperation, slapping a palm against his forehead as he observed the determination in your eyes. With a roll of his eyes, he relented, "Ugh, fine. Step aside, I'll do it."
You huffed, conceding to his offer, and relinquished your position. As he handed you the bag containing your latest hanbok, he rolled up his sleeves, muttering to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," before proceeding to climb the tree with surprising agility. However, he soon realised the tree was taller than expected, and panic gripped him as he reached the top, letting out a startled yelp, "Oh my god, this tree is way taller than I thought!"
"Quit wasting time and save the cat!" you urged, frustration creeping into your voice. When he shot you a glare, you narrowed your eyes and challenged, "If you're so scared, get down here then! I'll do it!"
"No, no, no, don't you dare! What kind of man would I be to let you do it, huh? You stay put and wait down there," he insisted firmly, before reaching out tentatively for the frightened animal, "Come here, kitty. It's alright, just come to me and you'll be safe."
With bated breath, you observed as his hand shook pitifully. Slowly but surely, the animal inched closer to him, bit by bit, until it ended up snugly in his arms. A sigh of relief escaped you as he succeeded. Holding the rescued feline close to his chest, he carefully made his way back down.
As soon as he handed the cat over to you, his legs gave out, and he sank onto the ground. His face was blank, as if he were still trying to process what he had just done. The last thing he expected when coming here today was to do something like this.
Seeing his defeated posture, unlike his usual composed demeanour, you couldn't help but let a smile sneak onto your face, eventually bursting into a fit of giggles as you replayed the scene in your head. At the sound, he glanced up, captivated by the melody of your laughter. Frozen in place, his heart skipped a beat as he beheld your smile for the first time, genuine happiness lighting up your features. At that moment, he realised your beauty, wanting nothing more than to see that smile more often.
How pretty.
Since that day, both of you appeared to have grown more at ease with each other. He abandoned the formalities, as you urged, and shed the false pleasantries. Finally, he felt comfortable enough to be his true self around you, letting his unfiltered thoughts flow freely and speaking his mind without reservation. You didn't seem to mind, especially since he hadn't intended any offence with his words.
While you wouldn't go as far as calling yourselves friends, there was a comfort in each other's presence that had developed. Even in moments of silence, there was never any awkwardness, only an unspoken understanding between you, a connection that required no verbal declaration; you simply understood each other.
Over Hongjoong's recent visits, a routine had formed. You would courteously greet him at the entrance before guiding him to your quarters. There, he would assist you in trying on the hanboks he had crafted, ensuring they fit perfectly and required no further alterations. He would experiment with different makeup and hairstyles, exploring which suited you best.
After weeks of diligent work to assemble the perfect ensemble for you, today marked the culmination of his efforts—the day he would finally unveil your complete makeover. With an array of hanboks he had brought from his previous visits, they were sufficient to constitute an entirely new wardrobe for you. This was the moment your family had eagerly anticipated, the outcome they had engaged the dressmaker for. He observed you scrutinise the items he had meticulously prepared, your expression unreadable.
"Are you ready, Miss Baek?" he inquired.
You shot him a look that seemed to convey 'are you kidding me', your lips pursed, "Does it matter? Just do what you have to, Kim."
With a nod, he began with your hair and makeup, his heart quickening with every movement under the weight of your attentive gaze, fixated on his handsome features. Unbeknownst to him, you held your breath whenever he moved a little closer to perfect your eye makeup. Cursing himself, he attempted to steady his trembling hands as he moved on to your lips, "Could you please look away or close your eyes?" he requested.
"Why?" you inquired, devoid of any jest.
He sighed, "Look, it's... it's distracting, okay? I find it hard to concentrate when you're watching me so intently."
Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced and closed your eyes, "And you claim to be a professional," you remarked.
For once, he lacked the energy to retort, his heart dancing with sensations he had never experienced before. Despite having applied makeup for countless women, he had never encountered such a physical reaction. Puzzled, he struggled to understand the inexplicable effect you seemed to have on him and his poor heart.
"Everything's finished, except for putting on the hanbok," he announced, placing his tools aside before excusing himself momentarily as your maids began assisting you with one of the most elaborate hanboks he had produced. Stepping outside your quarters, he was taken aback to see your entire family assembled and waiting. Bowing respectfully, he greeted them, "Ah, you've all arrived right on time. Miss Baek is almost prepared."
Hajoon stepped forward, extending his hand to shake the dressmaker's, "With your assistance, I'm certain she'll look stunning. Thank you so much for your dedication, Mr. Kim," your parents chimed in, expressing their gratitude for his hard work.
Suddenly, the attention shifted as one of your nephews pointed towards the entrance of your room, exclaiming, "Look, a princess!" All eyes turned to catch a glimpse of you.
A chorus of gasps escaped from your family members as they beheld the sight before them. Your family was overcome with awe, your mother and sister shedding tears of joy as if you had finally fulfilled their deepest wishes. Turning around, Hongjoong's breath caught in his throat as he took in your completed transformation for the first time, mirroring the astonishment of everyone else. You appeared breathtaking, meeting society's standards of perfection and seamlessly fitting into their expectations. Yet, the absence of joy in your expression failed to bring him satisfaction.
She's not happy.
In truth, a foolish part of him clung to the hope that you might still be impressed by your transformation once you had seen your beauty, despite knowing your reservations. He harboured a fleeting expectation that your initial reluctance stemmed from never seeing yourself adorned in such finery before, and that your perspective would shift upon witnessing your present appearance. But he knew he was wrong as soon as he observed your evident discomfort, your fingers clutching the hanbok's skirt tightly, your gaze averted while your family showered you with adoration.
Confusion enveloped him at that moment. He should have felt elated that his vision had come to fruition; your family's satisfaction with his work signalled the success of his mission. However, instead of joy, remorse consumed him; your family's praises fell on deaf ears, and all he could see was the despair in your hunched shoulders.
"Mr. Kim, this is utter perfection! You've truly outdone yourself! Please join us for dinner tonight before you leave! It's the least we can do for all the work you've put in over the past few weeks!" your father invited, excitement evident in his tone.
Normally, he would reject such offers, but he realised he wasn't ready to leave you just yet. With only you in mind, Hongjoong accepted, "It would be my pleasure, Official Baek."
Seated beside you in the dining hall that night, the dressmaker did his best to engage with your family members. However, his attention kept drifting back to you, noticing your silence as you picked at your food, showing little appetite. He grew concerned seeing you repeatedly reach for the wine glass, drinking more than eating. Haeun's disapproving glare didn't escape his notice.
"That's enough, maknae. No man likes a drunkard for a wife. With your enhanced looks, you'll be attracting a suitor real soon. Now's the time for you to start training to be a proper lady," she scolded.
Hajoon chortled, "Let her. Perhaps she'll be a better wife when drunk. That version of her might be more tolerable than her usual self."
To Hongjoong's dismay, your sister and parents joined in the laughter, despite your brother-in-law and sister-in-law exchanging apologetic glances in your direction. At that moment, he lost his appetite completely as he watched you quietly enduring it all, much like when the maids made fun of you.
Before he could inquire if you were okay, your father addressed him, "Mr. Kim, we apologise on our youngest's behalf for any trouble she may have caused you. Surely, she couldn't have been easy to work with. We will compensate you nicely for all your efforts."
Wanting to use the opportunity to stand up for you, he plastered on his most professional smile and spoke, "Not at all, my lord. Miss Baek has been an absolute pleasure to work with. She's remarkably selfless, unlike many customers who approach me solely for superficial reasons. Despite her reservations about fashion, she wholeheartedly complies for her family's sake. And I deeply respect her for that. The opportunity to make her clothing is reward enough for me. I consider myself fortunate to have such a client."
His response surprised everyone, including you, with its sincerity and absence of flattery or deceit. Your mother blinked, ashamed of herself for laughing moments ago, "Oh, that's reassuring to hear. Perhaps we should give her more credit for her efforts."
The atmosphere turned slightly awkward after the dressmaker's indirect words, making it clear he disapproved of their conversation about you. It seemed as though his remarks had prompted them to reflect on their behaviour, recognising the cruelty of mocking their own family member. Despite your usual straightforwardness, they understood that you truly never meant to hurt anyone's feelings. Guilt washed over them as they realised their earlier actions had been intentional and hurtful.
Absorbing the aftermath of Hongjoong's defence of you, a surge of emotion welled up inside you. His words resonated deeply, touching a part of you that had longed for such validation. No one had ever stood up for you in such a manner, not even your own family, who were supposed to be your closest allies. To hear someone speak so kindly of you, with genuine sincerity, was a rare and precious gift.
Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Perhaps, in that moment, he had become more than just a dressmaker to you. Maybe, without him even realising it, he had earned the title of friend.
As he gently confiscated the wine glass from your hand and replenished your bowl with food, a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His gesture felt like a moment of genuine concern that warmed your heart. Whether or not he realised it, he was showing you a level of care you hadn't experienced before, and it felt comforting to be treated with such thoughtfulness.
"Stop drinking so much and eat more, my lady. You'll be sick if you keep up like that," he lectured with a soft grin.
You wondered if this was his way of showing that he cared. Regardless, it felt nice to be looked after, to have someone pay attention to your well-being in such a simple yet meaningful way. As you took a bite of the food he had placed before you, a sense of gratitude washed over you, grateful for his unexpected kindness in a world that had often felt cold and indifferent.
After the meal, he said his farewells to your family but insisted on walking you back to your quarters before departing. Upon reaching your room entrance, you turned to him, saying, "Well, I'm here safe now. You can leave, Mr. Kim."
He scoffed lightly, "Would it hurt to have a little chat before I go?"
Taking a seat on the short staircase leading to your room, he patted the space beside him, gesturing for you to join him, "Come on. I don't know when I'll see you again after this. Let's just... talk."
Your heart felt uneasy at the reminder that today marked the grand finale, and with it over, his job here was considered done. He would have no reason to visit your family estate unless summoned. Reluctantly, you settled down beside him on the step.
Despite his desire to converse, there was a moment of silence as you both pondered what to say. The ambience was filled with the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze as you sat side by side, your shoulders lightly touching. Mustering his courage, he finally broached the subject, "Be honest with me, Miss Baek. Do you hate my designs? I've noticed your unease since you put them on."
Gazing down at the vibrant hanbok adorning your frame, feeling the weight of the accessories on your head and the unfamiliar thickness of the makeup on your usually bare face, you let out a sigh, "I don't hate them. It's just... honestly, I don't feel worthy of such finery. They're undeniably beautiful, but they don't resonate with who I am. And if this is what it takes to attract a husband, I can't help but wonder... what good is a man who would only value me for my looks? What kind of marriage would that be? The maids had a point. Any man fooled by this appearance would likely end up divorcing me."
Frowning, he turned to you, seeing the rare display of emotion as your eyes glistened with tears, "That's not true, why would you think you're unworthy?" he questioned, genuine concern evident in his voice. Though he wanted to agree that a man like that did not deserve to be with you, he opted to address what truly mattered.
You let out a humourless chuckle, a sound that tugged at his heartstrings. It was unlike you to expose your vulnerabilities in such a manner. Perhaps it was the comfort of Hongjoong's presence or the effects of the alcohol. Or maybe it was a combination of both. You shut your eyes as your world began to spin, whispering, "I've never been good enough for anything or anyone. My parents made that abundantly clear since I was a child. Nobody has ever truly liked me, and don't pretend otherwise, I know you disliked me too. I just... I'm so tired. I want to be loved for who I am. Is that too much to ask...?"
It really isn't, my lady. I'm right here.
Your voice trailed off, a tear tracing down your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder, succumbing to exhaustion. His heart ached as he hesitated, then gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Once he was certain you were truly asleep, he carefully slid his other arm beneath your legs and carried you into your room.
The dressmaker felt as if his life hadn't been the same since taking on that job. It had been nearly a week since he last saw you, the image of your tear-stained sleeping face lingering in his mind as he tucked you into bed. A heavy weight settled in his heart as he silently bid you farewell that night, making his way home with a sense of numbness.
Every day after that felt unsettling.
The initial satisfaction he anticipated from accepting your sister's job offer eluded him. Thoughts of you consumed his mind relentlessly. He wondered about your well-being—whether you were eating properly, sleeping soundly, finding happiness. Despite his yearning to see you again, even just a glimpse to ensure you were okay, he knew he had no reason to visit the Baek estate. The job was completed, and he had received his payment in full. Alongside the surge in his reputation, he had earned widespread recognition for transforming the once pitiful youngest Miss Baek into the stunning beauty you are today.
Consequently, his business flourished. Recognising his inability to change the situation, he threw himself into his work, attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Day after day, he laboured tirelessly in his shop, his pockets filling up, yet his heart growing emptier with each passing moment.
"Huh, who would've thought this day would come? It seems someone could rob you in broad daylight, and you wouldn't even notice," the sudden familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he found Seonghwa standing right beside his work desk, "What's up with you, Kim Hongjoong? Need a break?"
"I told you, he's been acting all weird since he completed the Baek family's job," Wooyoung chimed in, appearing behind the general.
The dressmaker blinked, "Wh-what are you two idiots doing here?"
Seonghwa scoffed, "Oh wow, is that really the way to greet your friends who care enough to come check on you?"
Flustered, Hongjoong cleared his throat and returned to work, "Why do you have to check on me? I'm doing just fine."
"Are you really? That's not what Yunho told us. It sounds like someone's finally having girl problems," the investigator retorted.
The general grinned, "You know, for someone who gives so much relationship advice, you're rather terrible with matters of the heart when it comes to yourself."
With a sigh, the dressmaker rolled his eyes, "I don't have any problems. You two should worry about yourselves instead. Haven't you heard? Taken men have more issues than single lads like myself." The two had been exceptionally insufferable ever since the younger man had also begun courting his precious Miss Han, always borderline making fun of the rest for still being single.
"Really? So you're not bothered that Miss Baek has finally found a suitor?" Wooyoung teased. At that, Hongjoong dropped the pencil in his hand, head snapping up with wide eyes, "What did you say?"
His friends exchanged knowing grins before the younger one repeated, "I said, the youngest miss of the Baek family has finally found a suitor. The eldest son of the Yoon family has asked for her hand in marriage."
The dressmaker felt his heart drop, "The Yoon family...? Aren't they the ones on the verge of bankruptcy?"
Seonghwa nodded, "That's correct. I guess they must be taking the opportunity to forge a union with the Baek family to save themselves financially. I suppose it wouldn't be so bad now that the youngest miss is finally pretty enough to marry."
"Don't you dare say that about her; she's perfect the way she was. Her appearance doesn't define her," Hongjoong growled, glowering at his friend for the first time.
Rather than reacting negatively, his friends applauded his response, the older man smirking, "Congratulations, you're in love."
"I'm not—"
Wooyoung sighed in exasperation, "Listen, it doesn't matter to us whether you think you're in love or not. But if you aren't, I suppose it wouldn't matter that today is the day the Baek and Yoon families formalise the engagement. Do what you will with that information; we have a double date to enjoy."
At that moment, he came to the realisation that what he had been feeling all along was love. Looking back, he should have recognised the signs from the very beginning; despite his irritation with you, genuine anger never surfaced. The incessant thoughts of you had been consuming every moment of his life, a clear indicator in hindsight. Yet, he couldn't fathom why he had persisted in denying it. It was evident that he wasn't fooling anyone except himself.
The dressmaker's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he watched his friends leave his shop, "W-wait!" he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Thanks, guys. I appreciate the help."
With a playful wink, the general teased, "Atta boy, go get your girl. I'm looking forward to making it a triple date next time."
God, I sure hope she feels the same.
Meanwhile, you wandered through the gardens of your estate, accompanied by Byungho, the eldest son of the Yoon family and your soon-to-be fiancé, a sense of unease lingered within you. The suddenness of his proposal, along with his family's involvement, left you in a state of shock. While you had anticipated attracting suitors after your makeover, you hadn't expected everything to unfold in less than a week. Despite Byungho's outward appearance of kindness, you didn't know how to feel about spending the rest of your life with him.
Besides, you weren't entirely clueless.
You'd heard all the rumours circulating about his family's financial troubles, stemming from a failed business venture that had left them on the brink of bankruptcy. You understood that his proposal wasn't solely motivated by your newfound beauty; rather, you were seen as a solution to his family's predicament. And since he was still unmarried, it would be like killing two birds with one stone.
Even as you walked alongside the man who was supposed to be your future husband, your thoughts were consumed by a certain dressmaker. Amidst the familiar scenery of the garden, memories of your shared moments played on a loop in your mind.
Like the cat you had rescued and set free, you couldn't help but wonder about both of them—the stray animal and its saviour. Did he ever think of you, even fleetingly? The maids had recounted the events of your final night with him; how he had carried you back to your room and tucked you in with care. You regretted being influenced by alcohol, wishing you had bid him a proper farewell.
Now, you knew you would never see him again—the first person to show you genuine kindness despite a rocky start, the first to truly care, the first you had considered a friend... and perhaps more.
I miss you, Kim Hongjoong.
Little did you know, he stood just outside the entrance to your family estate, struggling to catch his breath. He pleaded with the guards stationed at the gate, conveying the urgency of his situation, "Please, I left behind a crucial tool that I need to retrieve."
"We apologise, Mr. Kim, but the Baek family is hosting important guests today, and we cannot permit entry to outsiders without a valid reason. Perhaps you could return tomorrow," the guard explained respectfully, bowing his head in apology.
As he regained his composure, a sense of desperation gripped him. He knew exactly who those guests were and the purpose of their visit. He couldn't afford to wait until tomorrow; he had to be there to stop it all now. However, he couldn't reveal the true reason to the guards, fearing it would only lead to his expulsion from the premises.
Summoning his typically fearless demeanour, he planted his hands on his hips and fixed the guard with an unamused stare, "Listen, I have a significant client waiting on her hanbok for tomorrow. If I lose her business because of this delay, will you take responsibility for my losses? I doubt your salary could cover the cost. So, soldier, are you prepared to shoulder that burden?"
The guard swallowed nervously, "I-I..."
Rolling his eyes, Hongjoong pressed on, "All I need is a moment to retrieve my belongings. What harm could my brief presence possibly cause? Do you think the guests will be bothered by a mere dressmaker dropping by to pick up his things?"
Lord forgive me for deceiving this poor man.
Finally relenting, the guard stepped aside, "I suppose you have a point, sir. My apologies."
As soon as he was out of the guard's line of sight, he moved stealthily like a spy. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and face a barrage of questions. His heart raced in his chest as he scanned every corner frantically in search of you. Inside, the living hall buzzed with activity, hosting both your family and the Yoons. However, you and the eldest Yoon son were conspicuously absent. Panic and protectiveness surged within him at the thought of you being alone with another man.
He felt a wave of relief wash over him when he discovered your quarters were vacant. The mere thought of finding you with another man in your room made his stomach churn with jealousy. Passing by the library, he was once again grateful to find it deserted. These were sacred spaces shared only between the two of you, and he refused to let anyone else intrude upon them.
Finally, a sense of calm settled over him when he spotted you in the garden with your prospective betrothed. Taking cover behind a nearby tree, he strained to eavesdrop on your conversation while contemplating his next move. Walking up to you and blurting out his feelings like a madman seemed out of the question. Not only would it be reckless, but he also had to consider what your family would think of him if he acted so impulsively.
He needed to devise a careful plan of action.
Perking up, his attention sharpened as he heard the eldest Yoon son's words to you, "My lady, we've been here for a while. Would you perhaps like to have some tea in a more... secluded spot?"
Hongjoong's blood ran cold at the suggestion, his fists tightening involuntarily until he heard your firm response, "I'm not in the mood for tea, Byungho. If you want some, feel free to go ahead and enjoy it yourself. I'll be right here." A surge of pride swelled within him at your characteristic straightforwardness.
That's my girl, you tell him.
A tense silence hung in the air before Byungho's frustration reached its boiling point, "Enough of this, I've had it with you," he burst out, "Do you honestly believe that just because you've become more attractive, you're suddenly something special? Do you know what men outside are saying about you? Sure, you finally look pretty enough to marry, but they would have considered you if only you were a couple of years younger. Take a good look at yourself in the mirror, you're old. Be grateful I'm willing to marry you. You have no right to be playing Ice Princess with me right now, you hear me?"
The dressmaker's blood boiled as he listened to Byungho's disrespectful tirade against you. Unable to contain his anger any longer, he emerged from his hiding spot and strode purposefully toward the two of you.
"Look who's talking," he interjected, his voice laced with fury, "If she's so undesirable, why the hell are you and your family here begging to have her hand in marriage?" He narrowed his eyes at the bastard, his words dripping with disdain, "Look at yourself, Yoon Byungho. You're going broke and are relying on a woman to save yourself. I don't think you should be the one to talk."
Byungho's face turned red with anger as he shot back, "Who the hell do you think you are? Wait a minute, I know you. Aren't you just a lowly dressmaker? You have no right to speak to me like that."
But Hongjoong stood his ground, undeterred by Byungho's attempts to intimidate him, "I may be a dressmaker, but at least I have the decency to respect others," he retorted, "Unlike you, who seems to think you can treat people however you please just because of your family name. Would you prefer to back off on your own, or would you like me to repeat your earlier words to Official and Lady Baek word for word? Do you reckon they'd still want such a son-in-law?"
As the tension between them escalated, you watched in shock, unsure of what to make of the confrontation unfolding before you.
You didn't know how to react when Byungho scoffed in disbelief, "Whatever, I can't stand her anyway," he said before turning to you, "And you, don't come crying to me when you can't find someone to marry."
"Oh, don't you worry, she won't," the dressmaker sneered, watching the despicable man huff and stalk off.
Still in a state of shock, you blinked rapidly, trying to process Hongjoong's sudden appearance and his unexpected action in ending your engagement so abruptly, "M-Mr. Kim...? What have you done?"
He narrowed his eyes at you, "What have I done? More like, what are you doing, woman?" he retorted.
"I haven't done anything," you fought back.
"Exactly! Were you really just going to marry that douche of a man if I hadn't shown up? Even after he said those things to you? Don't you want to be happy?" he questioned.
Massaging your temples, you struggled to understand his point, "I don't get it, Mr. Kim. What are you trying to say? You know better than anyone my happiness never mattered."
He ignored your question, "Of course, it matters! And what the hell are you wearing?!"
Confused, you looked down at the hanbok you were wearing, one of his designs, "What do you mean? This is your—"
"Only wear what you want and do what you want! Why should you be so unhappy? This is your life!" he interrupted, frustrated.
Exasperated, you sighed, "In case you haven't been paying attention, no man will ever want me if I were to—"
He cut you off, gripping your shoulders firmly as he looked into your eyes, "I do! I want to be with you, okay? Your happiness matters to me more than anything else!" he declared before bravely pulling you into his arms. He felt like he could finally breathe again when you lifted your arms to hug him back.
A week had passed since that pivotal moment, and it was remarkable how one single moment could alter the course of your life. Hongjoong's unexpected intervention had changed everything. Byungho's decision to call off the engagement had left both families in shock, particularly his own, given their desperate need for financial assistance. The bastard was more keen to preserve his reputation, fearful of the repercussions of his outburst towards you. Strangely, your family seemed somewhat relieved by the turn of events, although the reasons behind their reaction remained unclear.
Eventually, it became clear when the dressmaker approached them, seeking permission to court you. The knowing grins exchanged among your family members answered your unspoken questions.
Haeun's laughter, unexpected to both you and Hongjoong, was joined by Hajoon's, "I knew it! I knew there was something between you two! Your actions spoke volumes, Mr. Kim, especially your protectiveness towards her that night. We've been waiting for you to realise it."
Your parents nodded, "You have our blessing, Mr. Kim. So long as our youngest is happy. But ultimately, it's her consent that truly matters. You should ask her if she's willing."
The dressmaker hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest as he reached for your hand, "I did ask her..." His nerves eased when you willingly intertwined your fingers with his, "And she said yes."
And ever since that moment, he hadn't let you go for long, always claiming to miss you. Though you were too shy to admit it aloud, you felt the same. Now, as you stroll along the bustling streets of town for the first time in what feels like forever, his hand securely holding yours, he shows you around, "Come on, beautiful. There's still so much to see."
He slowed his pace, noticing the slightly overwhelmed expression on your face, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Are you feeling alright, darling?" he asked, scanning the surroundings, wondering if you were perhaps feeling insecure due to any stares, "Is it the hanbok? I promise I'll make an even simpler version next time."
You shook your head immediately, "What? No! I like this, Joong, I really do," you said, smiling down at the simple yet elegant pastel-coloured fabric he had picked especially for you. He had replaced all the previous ones he made for you with a new batch of minimalistic hanboks you'd prefer.
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he persisted, "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."
You chuckled softly, and he felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of your beautiful smile, "Of course, you know I can't lie to save my life."
His laughter echoed with realisation, "That's true, how could I forget?"
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your favourite spot, "I was just thinking..."
"About what?"
You blushed, "About us."
As you reached a serene little bridge spanning over a gentle river, you both paused to admire the tranquil scene below, leaning against the ledge side by side, "What about us?" he asked.
Turning to meet his gaze, you softened, "I just find it amusing how we ended up like this, together. I recall how much you couldn't stand me when we first met, and I thought I'd never see you again once the makeover was done. Yet... here you are."
He grinned warmly, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, "Here I am, my darling. I was an idiot then, but I have no intention of ever leaving your side again."
Your heart brimmed with joy, a sensation you never thought you'd have the pleasure of experiencing. Similarly, Hongjoong felt a sense of pride as he observed you gradually opening up, becoming more at ease in expressing your emotions around him. He was proud of the progress you had made.
Caught up in the moment, he summoned the courage to finally kiss you. Truth be told, he had been searching for the right moment to share your first kiss but wanted to respect your boundaries. He knew you must have been new to all this, and to be fair, he wasn't much more experienced than you. While he had seen many couples throughout his life and displays of affection were nothing new to him, he lacked firsthand experience. He often wondered when would be the right time to take such a step.
Sensing his gaze fixed on your lips, your breath caught in your throat. Was the moment finally here? Were you about to share your first kiss? You closed your eyes instinctively as he leaned in, taking it as his cue to press his lips against yours.
Here goes nothing.
As your lips met, a rush of euphoria swept through him when he felt you kissing him back softly, enjoying the sensation of your lips on his. Slowly pulling back, you both broke into shy smiles, "That felt nice," he said, and you nodded in agreement, "It really did." Just as he leaned down again, intent on kissing you once more, you were both snapped out of your trance by the sound of a child yelling for help.
Reaching for his hand, you immediately pulled him towards the source of the commotion, only to find a little girl pointing to the top of a tree, "Help, please, somebody help my poor little kitty!"
You couldn't help but burst into giggles at the familiar scene as Hongjoong shook his head, "Nope, absolutely not. Someone else can help her," Pouting, you tugged at his arm, "Please, Joong? We have to help the poor thing! I'll give you a kiss when you do."
His jaw dropped before determination filled his being, "You know what? Deal. You best not go back on your words, woman."
Rolling up his sleeves, he approached the tree with a shake of his head in disbelief, "Goodness, the things I do for her," he muttered. But as he glanced back and saw the beautiful smile on your face, he realised he would be willing to save a thousand, no—a million more cats if that's what it takes to make you smile like that every day.
Anything to make you happy, darling.
If you haven't already read the first bonus chapter of TWTHH, please do so soon! I'll be working on the second bonus chapter after this hehe also, I hope you're all excited for Yunho's spinoff next!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)
boss!matty
cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour
wc: 2.1k
8:30am
you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.
he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.
his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.
he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.
he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.
'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.
'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.
without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'
you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.
the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.
he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.
'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.
he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.
you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.
he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.
'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.
he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.
you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.
'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.
'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'
'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.
'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.
waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.
your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.
you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.
suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.
'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.
'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.
you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.
he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.
'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.
without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.
'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.
~
#boss!matty au#matty healy smut#matty healy fanfic#matty healy imagine#matty healy x reader#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#matty healy#the 1975#trumanblack#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfiction#matty the 1975#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann
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hii could i request a Seth Borden x gn!reader where the readers been teasing him abt being scared while they’re filming a haunted video and then they comfort him when he gets genuinely scared?? TYY
Hi sweetheart! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy the fic <3
Lots of love, Vy 💌
Safety Blanket
Pairing: Seth Borden x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing, Ghostly activity, Paranormal Investigations
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: see request above
"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" I mentally check out for a few seconds as Sam and Colby start filming the intro to their video as Seth and I idle around in the background.
"Today, we'll be investigating one of the most brutal prisons in US history." Colby explains to the camera, turning to Sam to give him his cue.
"The Darkmont Correctional Facility in Huntsville, Alabama." The blond declares before turning off the. "We'll film the history segment inside, it's too windy out here. The audio will be a bitch to edit." He tells us, tilting his head to the entrance gates of the massive and downright terrifying building that has been abandoned for decades.
A shiver runs down my spine as I look up at it. Not so much out of fear, more so excitement. I was an urban explorer long before meeting and dating Seth, let alone Sam and Colby. I have a decent pile of trespassing charges under my belt but my adventures never included dabbling into the paranormal. It brings a whole new level of adrenaline to the table and it always makes for a remarkable experience, especially with these guys.
Seth, on the other hand, approaches the paranormal with much more skepticism and a ton more fear which I believe contradict one another - how can you be afraid of something you don't believe in? But alas, I don't fight him on it, I know it's pointless.
Messing with him, however, works like a charm.
I take my opportunity to do just that when I see him very visibly gulp as he takes in the exterior of the prison as we enter the courtyard past the giant metal gates the tour-guide left open for us.
"Someone's looking paler than usual." I poke his side with my finger, hitting a particularly ticklish spot that causes him to jump.
He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together, "Not at all, I've seen worse." He shrugs, feigning nonchalance with a simple shrug even though I can clearly see the goosebumps on his skin.
"Whatever you say, babe." I mock him with a pout, dragging him along with me, forcing some speed in his steps to catch up with the guys.
The interior is infinitely worse than the exterior. It's stonewall, concrete and metal wherever the eye can see - which isn't much considering how dark it is. No lights are on, the only visibility being provided by the daylight seeping in through the barred up windows. It's a pretty cloudy day so there's not much of said daylight to go around either.
In short, it's the perfect atmosphere.
That's only confirmed further when I feel Seth's hand tightening its hold on mine, seeking the comfort he's too prideful to actually ask for.
"Welcome, yall." A deep voice with a southern drawl catches our attention out of the blue, startling us. Well, some more than others considering I didn't fail to pick on Seth's little jump out of the corner of my eye. I can't help but laugh, causing him to blush.
The voice belongs to our tour-guide Alan. He greets us each individually before starting the tour, telling us the stories stemming from this place. Sam, Colby and I take turns holding the main camera, capturing different angles as we walk through the eerie halls and cells. Seth tried helping out as well but his hands are too unsteady to get any usable footage so he's just taken to carrying the bag with the equipment and holding my hand as if I'm the scared one.
As the tour comes to an end, Alan turns off the lights he had turned on at the beginning, wishes us luck and sets off on his way, saying he hopes to see us all alive and well in the morning. It's the cherry on top of the terror cake he'd made with the history of the place as well as visitor horror stories. He gave us further proof of the paranormal activity in the place with pictures and recordings that Seth discreetly avoided looking at for too long.
The early hours of the night are upon us at this point and we've switched over to flashlights and the camera light to guide ourselves around the premises. Sam and Colby excuse themselves to the so called 'taming dungeon' to film the history segment for the video.
I walk around, looking at the marks on the stone walls while Seth remains rigid and jumpy in the middle of the large space that used to be a lobby. When I stray down the hall, following a trail of what I hope is paint on the wall, he jogs to catch up, prompting a laugh from me.
"Don't worry, babe. I ain't going anywhere. You're alright. The ghosts aren't coming to get you....yet." I add the last part with a low whisper and a tickle to the back of his neck. I've come to realize that defocusing his attention from the fear factor and instead move it to our banter is the best course of action. He'll never admit he's scared, so the best I can do is try and actually make him forget he's scared.
"Shut up..." He laughs, tickling my side as a counter-attack. "You're the worst."
I grin up at him, "Oh you love it."
Something tells me it's gonna be a pretty long night.
* * * *
"Is it just me or is it freezing in here?" Seth speaks up as we migrate from one floor onto the next after a brief investigation with the flashlights and other equipment. The spirits are talkative but dodged properly answering any of the questions we asked. They actually appeared to be talking amongst themselves more than us but it was still informative.
"I think it's cause you're a little bitch." Colby, who's also been put on edge by the activity we've gotten so far, replies. He masks his own fear by messing with the rest of us and I respect that. I'm doing the same.
"Oh fuck you!" Seth laughs, lightly punching his arm, "Y/N back me up here!"
Sam and I have already begun setting up the flashlights and REM pod so I'm partially distracted when I turn my head to look at the two. I glance between them, Colby giving me a fast nod. "Yeah, whatever Colby said." I shrug, evoking two completely different reactions from them.
As soon as we start, we are basically told to leave. We try to get a few questions in to try and ease up the tension but the spirit's opinion doesn't change - he wants us gone. And I can't blame him, if I died in this horrible place the last thing I'd want is to talk about it.
With that last group investigation we reach the audience favorite - and Seth's most dreaded - part: the solo investigations.
A game of rock-paper-scissors decides the areas we'd be covering: Colby takes the attic, Seth is on the second floor, I get the ground floor and Sam takes the basement somewhat voluntarily - something I greatly admire. We each take a piece of equipment with us and we split up.
"Hey..." I take Seth's hand before he follows Colby up the stairs, "I'm just a flight of stairs away. If you get freaked out, just call out to me, I'll meet you at these stairs, ok?"
He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, and truthfully - I needed that. "I'll be ok, I hope. But the same goes for you. Anything happens, I'll be right down."
With a parting kiss, we each begin our investigations.
I, for some reason, chose the music box to be my piece of equipment. I've placed it at the beginning of the main hallway and take a seat in a fold up chair, turning on night vision on my camera.
"Here goes nothing. I'll be fine, I'm far more worried about Seth, he hasn't been handling the night very well..." just as I say that I hear a voice and my heart nearly drops in my ass. Turns out I haven't been handling it all too well either, considering Sam's faint voice was enough to send me into cardiac arrest.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to actually say something to the potential presence keeping me company at the moment. Just then, the music box whirrs to life, playing its creepy tune for a good couple of seconds, as if encouraging me. "Hi, are you here in the hall with me?"
The answer is almost immediate as the music box comes to life once more.
"Were you a prisoner here?" I ask once the tune has stopped playing. I get no answer so I try again, "A guard?"
There it is, I think as the music creepily bounces off the walls in the quiet space. Sam has walked to a different part of the basement because I can no longer hear him. It makes the situation much more eerie, makes me feel much more alone.
I throw out a few more questions with no outcome that can be considered content worthy so I begrudgingly decide to relocate to somewhere else on the floor. Just as I grab he music box to turn it off, I hear a huge crash from upstairs and a string of curses that quickly get louder, accompanied with footsteps approaching the staircase behind me.
I quickly flick on the camera light, illuminating Seth who gallops down the stairs with inhuman speed. I barely manage to catch him, placing my hands on his arms in order to slow him into a halt and stabilize him. He's shaking like a leaf, his eyes are wide and his face has reached a sickly shade of pale.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what happened?" I ask as I pull him into a hug, "Hey, you're ok, you're ok. Everything's ok."
I see Sam peep his head up from the staircase, coming up from the basement, alerted by the noise. "What's wrong?" He asks as he jogs over to us. Colby is nowhere to be found, clearly oblivious to what happened.
"I...oh fuck...." Seth mutters, his breathing still heavy, "I mean, I got what I asked for. I wanted a clear sign and a door slammed shut. It freaked me the fuck out." He explains, still extremely shaken up but a bit calmer as he clings to me.
"Ok, ok, well that's great." I see the conflict on Sam's face, balancing between excitement over the footage Seth captured and worry for his friend. "Are you alright? Take a breather, stay here. I'll go grab Colby and we'll do the Estes method when you're ready." He says calmingly, his gaze fixating on me for rational and coherent responses but all I can do is nod, my full focus is taken up by Seth.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Holy shit, that was insane, though." He manages to say, tapping Sam on the shoulder, "Go get Colby."
I lead my boyfriend over to the chair I was previously occupying and sit him down, crouching in front of him, "You captured something incredible back there, babe. You're incredible!" My hands rest on his knees as I too still am wrapping my brain around what happened just now. "Whoever was there with you can't hurt you. You're stronger than them and you have authority. Hey, they might like you, even! I barely got anything down here. The spirits must really like you to shut a whole ass door for you." I'm rambling, I'm aware, but it seems to be working since Seth is smiling now, some color having returned to his cheeks.
He lets out a chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair, "Well, I am the distant relative of a murderer. That's gotta count for something." He says, making me laugh.
"That's what I'm talking about." I smile up at him, my thumb drawing abstract patterns on his knee, relieved to see he's feeling better already.
"Thank you." He adds after a stretch of silence, "You're like my safety blanket." His hand cups my cheek, automatically prompting me to lean into his touch immediately.
"Happily, babe." I slowly rise up so I can lean in and meet him halfway.
Just as our lips are within a millimeter, we hear pure disbelief echo off the walls as two pairs of footsteps rush down the stairs.
"A fucking door slammed shut?!!" Colby shouts breathlessly, causing us both to burst out laughing.
#seth borden#seth borden x reader#seth borden x you#seth borden fanfic#seth borden fanfiction#seth borden imagine#seth borden smut#sam and colby#sam golbach#colby brock#sam golbach x reader#colby brock x reader#sam golbach imagine#sam golbach fanfic#colby brock imagine#colby brock fanfic#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#reader#x reader#rpf#request
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Ken Comfort Headcanons
Ken x reader
Summary and warnings: a few headcanons of Ken being supportive when you’re in need of comfort. It’s Ken, so that does sometimes cross over into him being a little... obsessive. Also, I’ve tried to leave this ambiguous as to the time and setting so it’s up to how you want to read it! Includes mentions of kisses.
I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main
He tries SO hard when he knows you've had a bad day because he can't stand the thought of you feeling anything other than as perfect as he thinks you are
Will give you space but is never far away, usually watching from a distance just incase you need something he can provide
He’s so soft and gentle with you, brushing your hair while he tells you all the things he loves most about you to give you a boost
The list of compliments is long and far from exhaustive; he rarely gives you the same compliment twice and never runs out of new ones
Truly excellent at pep talks if you need one
Holds your face in his palms and looks deep into your eyes to tell you some variation of how sublime or brave or wonderful or kind you are, hoping you’ll believe him and trying to send some positive Kenergy straight to you via his intense gaze
‘Would you like to go for a walk? You can hold my hand…’
Of course, he walks you to the beach (after taking a moment to compose himself at the hand holding) to watch the sunset together
If you squeeze his hand he giggles or let’s out a delighted little ‘Ooh!’
After finding the perfect place to sit together on the sand, he lights a little fire to get cosy beside, smiling at you all the while, and asks, ‘Do you want to talk about it? Or you can just rest with me if that’s what you need?’
Either way, it ends with you laid together on the sand with you resting on his chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat and steady breathing
You feel so safe and content with his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and his fingers playing lovingly with your hair
There’s no rush. He’s content for you to remain silent or take all the time you need in talking to him. He really has all the time in the world for you
It makes his heart race a little to be so close with you, but he contains the feelings it stirs within him so that he can focus entirely on you
Does give you tender little kisses at least every five minutes though, just to remind you how wanted you are
He’s such a good listener. He usually hangs on your every word, but at times like these, it's not just that. When you need him, he is so supportive and always surprises you with new perspectives on whatever is bothering you
If you tell Ken a secret he will guard that secret with his life (but he may flex on some other Kens that you confide in him. He would be really proud of that)
When you begin to feel tired, he will walk you back home, eagerly offering his hand again. He always hopes you’ll invite him inside and to sleep over, but his main priority tonight is helping you feel yourself again
‘Would you like me to come in and read to you?’
He doesn’t so much read as look at pictures with you and excitedly read out the bits he thinks are most exciting, but his heart is in the right place and it warms yours to know that he wants to spend his free time making you feel better and not just vying for your attention
Makes you tea and tucks you in even if he’s not staying over, with one final kiss to your forehead before he departs
‘I’m your Ken no matter what.’
Literally does not sleep. Worries all night that you might not have sweet dreams or will wake feeling anything other than great
Will be back first thing in the morning with breakfast already made and a hot bath drawn for you, ready for when you wake up to make sure you’re off to a perfect start the next day
#ken#ken x reader#ken x you#ken fluff#ken x y/n#ryan gosling x reader#ryan gosling x you#ryan gosling!ken#ryan!ken#ryan gosling#rg!ken#ryan gosling ken#ken barbie#barbie movie#barbie 2023#ken fic#ken fluff headcanons#kenergy#ken-dom writes
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I love ur mercs x male reader stuff sm!! Don't know if you still do request but if you do, can I ask for the mercs reacting to being courted/flirted on by a male reader?
TF2 x Male Reader- Reacting to Being Hit On!
Scout
Flustered AF, thinks you're joking/insulting him at first
You call him pretty boy, he fucking dies.
Red faced, he doesn't know what to do with his hands, can't meet your eyes, etc. Etc.
"Hey!"
"Hello there, sexy."
"ASKFHTJFKRK SHUT UP"
Tries to hit on you back, but as soon as you open your mouth he melts
"Whoa whoa, slow down prettyboy! What's the rush?" You hummed as Jeremy dashed past you. Almost immediately, the loud and ear-piercing skid of sneaker sole on tile rang through the hall. His arms locked up where they were.
"You talkin to me?" Scout shouts, a hell of a lot louder than he intended. You make a noise of agreement. He turned around to see you, leaned on a wall with a satisfied smile. A snicker could barely be heard as Sniper passed by made Jeremy squeak as his face flushed red.
"What's wrong Jeremy, are you shy?"
Unfortunately, he ran away faster after that, his face red and his body shaking.
Demoman
He'd be caught MAJORLY off guard
He assumes you're drunk
matches your energy bc it's funny
next morning he teases you about it, but you start doubling down
"So, you remember all those nasty things you said last night?"
"Yeah I do, and I remember a certain someone promising me them."
OH SHIT
OH SHIT OH FUCK
"Hey there handsome, you busy?" You asked as you sit beside Tavish. He laughed in turn, his head rocked back as the mug's content sloshed haphazardly.
"Well, if you're here, absolutely not!" He replied in a heartbeat with a mirrored smile.
You two spent the night drinking and had a friendly, fun time together. The morning after however, Tavish strolled up and quoted a particularly suggestive comment you made, to which you winked.
oh. Oh shit.
"Well, you gonna take me up on my offer or not?"
You could nearly see his heart pop out of his chest as he fumbled over a way to respond.
Soldier
doesn't get it
you have to grab that mf by the face and say "I FIND YOU ATTRACTIVE" for him to get the hint
even then he probably thinks its a compliment
RIP, good luck
Medic
He laughs and brushes you off
It's a joke to him- either if you are playing or if you would really hit on him
Medic is one of those people to say "alright, that's enough now" with a smile to you saying "rail me daddy"
He's always brushing you off, unless you're praising him. Then he's hanging off your every word with a prideful smirk and the most puffed chest he's ever had.
Medic will give you extra good care when you're injured, something more tender is there now.
Nobody ever sees that little glint in his eyes as he double checks that you are okay with a glance.
Medic never understood why you made his heart squeeze. Maybe it was a new type of heart burn? A type of non-lethal heart attack? It all eluded him. Then he caught your eye, and the fun really began.
"Helloooo Doctor!" You said, you intentionally dropped your voice as he walked by. He stopped in his tracks before quickly turning on his heel to see you again. Your eyes locked before you clicked your tongue and winked.
"That's quite enough now. I'm a very busy man, you know." Medic responded as he gently smacked your head. You seized the sudden opportunity to grasp his wrist with a sly smile.
"Oh, you must be so stressed then! Won't you let me help with that?"
"I- what? I'm starting to think you're not joking anymore."
Heavy
He deadass can't understand you.
Like, at all.
So, you learn a few Russian pick up lines and try your luck.
"Hey! Heavy! Vy horosho vygladite!"
Heavy thinks you are trying to make conversation but horribly failed.
Well, now you know a bit of Russian and a lot of pickup lines, but not much luck in your actual goal.
You two start hanging out casually and turns out he's not only hot but also surprisingly a cool guy.
You finally get the courage to say the obvious damned words to him, no matter how much your voice clams up at the thought of ruining your friendship.
"Hey Heavy! You were great out there!"
"Thank you!"
"Я тебя люблю!"
Heavy lets his head fall back in laughter. Obviously you were joking, right? Right?! He gently explained the meaning, but that didn't deter you.
"Я тебя люблю!"
Finally, finally! The man showed a kind of reception. His face flushed the slightest bit of pink.
Sniper
He'd probably insult you on reflex
This however, makes you live rent free in his head for days on end.
As soon as he finally evicts you from his mind, you do it again.
He wants to kill you, really, he does.
However, the more he thinks about you and your disgustingly stupid face, the more he turns red and chokes up in his head.
You already know he's not going to face you. Accept it.
Mundy avoids you like the repressed bisexual man he is.
After literally eating himself alive with nerves, he eventually flirts back in a mumble you can barely understand before walking away.
Mundy physically cannot function, let alone able to leave his camper after the stunt you pulled (AKA saying 'hello' in a slightly more sincere way than usual) for at least a week, which caused a lot of trouble for your supervisors and generals. You were avoided, glared at, and were obsessed over by the Aussie for longer than you could fathom.
Still, you persisted. Your subtle lip bites, your prolonged eye contact, you knew what you were doing and loved every second of it.
Finally though, he showed back up and gave you a charming wink and smile. You could have kissed that bitchy little man.
Pyro
homie good luck
you speak fluent pyro as you watch them interact with the world and the other mercs.
They mean well, but just... somewhere else, like a person in wonderland.
You desperately want to join them in their wonderland.
through little gifts and kindness, you try to let the door open, but nothing seems to work. the only thing you haven't done is tell them outright that you love them.
So, fuck it, why not try!
"Pyro, there's something I want to tell you.."
You tell them everything, especially the wonderland allegory.
Pyro just sits there and listens to you go on. You make a tad bit of an ass of yourself as you fidget and fluster yourself with nerves. Eventually though the torture of talking is over, and you wait for their response. They stand up and leave.
You nearly cry before they return with a little teacup.
Spy
Oh he makes you blush like a virgin all over again if he even caught you thinking about hitting on him.
He is a little off guard and amused at your actual attempt.
The response of Spy pinning you against the wall and murmuring the downright dirtiest of things into your ear that leaves you stunned and gay.
Spy suddenly is the recipient of many gifts over the next few weeks. Flowers. Chocolates. Unfettered access to high-powered people when he's on an espionage mission.
Spy returns the favor with looks of flirtatious intent that are meant for you only.
You finally wrack up the courage to give him a gift in-person. It started as a note slid under his door to meet his admirer behind the barracks at 11 PM. Well, he shows up looking too gorgeous to have been incidental.
The blush that overtakes your cheeks refuses to let you look him in the eye as you thrust the bouquet of flowers towards him.
"Mon espion, tu as assassiné mon coeur..." you barely squeak out, cursing yourself for every incorrect inflection on the strange grammar. Spy simply looks you up and down with an amused chuckle.
"Votre français est horrible, petit fleur."
Engineer
You remind him so much of younger him when he was courting a girl back in his schooldays.
Down to the foot fidgeting and sweating profusely as you tried to say the most basic of things, it was downright endearing.
Dell had never considered himself gay, he'd never even thought about another man romantically!
He gently lets you down, but in a way that leaves things horribly ambiguous.
"I'm flattered- really! I just never thought I'd be the one asked to go steady!"
"So- you want me too stop?" You ask.
Dell doesn't answer with anything but a shy smile.
Well, after a few more weeks of old-fashioned flirting and a gentlemanly air, Dell finally gives you an answer.
"Gee, you really are serious, aren't you? I mean, I guess I wouldn't mind- but could we keep it quiet? At least for a while?"
You of course agree.
"Can I hold your hand sometimes?"
Dell's face flares a scarlet.
#tf2#tf2 scout#tf2 demoman#tf2 spy#tf2 pyro#tf2 sniper#tf2 medic#team fortress2#tf2 soldier#tf2 engineer#tf2 heavy#tf2 x reader#scout x reader#engineer#tf2 engie x reader#spy x reader#sniper x reader#pyro x reader#medic x reader#tf2 x male reader#fanfiction#team fortress two#writing#team fortress sniper#team fortress medic#prettyboy pistol
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Jon Snow meeting Daenerys
Based on my rewatch of GoT with my friend, I found that I really don't like the meeting D&D created between Jon Snow and Daenerys. What could have been a monumental and great scene between two amazing characters meeting for the first time after going through all they did- it just pisses me off and feels bitter over the way D&D handled it.
My biggest gripe is the way they handled Jon going to Daenerys to ask for her help against the WW within the show. Not even ask, more like demand, without giving Daenerys anything in return.
Jon, when arriving within Dragonstone, knew that Daenerys had an ongoing war occurring against Cersei. Daenerys was declaring herself Queen of the 7k, she was vying for the throne, and was obviously going to war against Cersei for said throne. War is never easy. Dealing with Cersei (mainly within the show) wasn't going to be a cake-walk (mainly because Tyrion was written as the sympathetic man who needed to 'keep Daenerys' temper in check and give her crap for plans'). Jon knows that wars take up time, require heavy focus and planning, need men and resources, etc. yet he decides to ask Daenerys to drop her war against Cersei and help him fight against magical walking dead creatures that exist on the other side of the Wall without giving Daenerys anything in return.
This is not how any sort of politicking works. Jon can't just waltz in and expect Daenerys to drop her war against Cersei (someone Jon knows is a crazed lunatic who wants his family dead and anyone else that she considers her enemy and the North under her rule) just because he states that these magical walking dead men exist without bringing proof nor giving Daenerys something in return for what he wants.
Jon also knows that the people of Westeros aren't going to believe in the WW just because he says they exist. This was shown even in the first episode of season 1 when Ned executes a deserter from the Night's Watch who said the WW returned and nobody believed him! Tyrion and many other characters referred to the WW as nothing but 'grumpkins' and 'snarks'. Hell, even Jon himself didn't believe the WW's existence until he got attacked by one himself. This is lazy writing on D&D's part. Having a character miraculously think his word alone would convince others (especially a Queen who he needs the help of) that the WW exist without any form of proof or giving something in return for their help, and somehow 'forgetting' all the experience he went through of people discounting the WW existing from the very first season despite them having returned.
This just made Jon appear incompetent, forgetful, and demanding.
I also dislike this scene for the implication it gives- 'poor Jon Snow needs to convince the arrogant Dragon Queen that the WW exist and are a threat to humanity'. Let's be real here. Nobody else knows the WW exist, especially not Daenerys who lived a majority of her life within Essos (excluding book!Dany that is- due to her dream of riding into battle against the Others upon the Trident). Daenerys has a perfectly viable reason not to trust what Jon is saying, nor to suddenly drop her war against Cersei just because he demands her help, especially when he doesn't give anything in return for her! This man deadass looked Daenerys in the eye and basically said: "Yeah, I need you to drop your war with Cersei, come North and give all your power into helping me fight against dead men that nobody else believes in. Oh, and I don't have anything to give you in return, and I won't bend the knee because idk you. K, thanks."
This was obviously very poor negotiation which would definitely not happen within the books. D&D made Dany more hardened, and the way they framed the scene with her and Jon made it seem like they wanted to further play into the slow descent of attempting to pit the audience against her. I have seen people say that Daenerys was too 'arrogant' and 'egotistical' in this scene with Jon due to the way D&D framed the interaction and characters within this. Not to mention the fact that afterwards they had Tyrion be the one to start negotiations with Jon for his alliance AFTER his dumb plans costed Dany her allies in the first place. When we all know book!Dany to be politically savvy, intelligent, and a negotiator/compromiser. It just painted Daenerys in a bad light overall. Even for show!Dany, how do people seriously expect her to be willing to immediately agree to Jon, drop her entire campaign against Cersei, go North, and give her power for some random man that comes to her and says 'magical walking dead men exist and I need your help to fight them' without having a compromise/input from Jon for her aid? The ONLY thing Daenerys wanted from Jon was for him to bend the knee and acknowledge her as Queen, and she would have helped him.
And let's be honest here- I get that the North fought for their freedom and such but that was only due to Cersei and the Lannister's after Ned's execution. There was the quote from the show- "it was the dragons we bowed to." Now dragons are back. Jon admitted that even just after meeting Daenerys she was better than Cersei. He should have been willing to bend the knee to Daenerys, as she had agreed to fight for the North and help Jon if he did so, giving him the aid of her armies and dragons. The showrunners did this stupid parallel between Jon and Mance Rayder. Mance refused to bend the knee to Stannis even if it'd help his people, with Jon asking him- "isn't their survival more important than your pride?". They then did the same with Jon refusing to bend the knee even if it'd help his people, and Daenerys asking him the same thing. This parallel is unneeded, and only showed Jon as being incompetent, as he had that experience with Mance and should've known that pride doesn't get you anywhere when you're a ruler over others lives and need help.
Also- I doubt the North would last long being independent from the other Kingdoms. Limited resources with a coming winter on top of it all after a war against the Bolton's? No way Jon or Sansa could think that would ever work in the North's favor for it to be independent in the long run. Especially with the war against the dead that was yet to come.
I swear it was like the writers had Jon drink stupidity juice for this entire thing and thought 'wow. This is really something. Our best writing yet.' over that horrendous scene. My sanity cannot take it.
#daenerys targeryan#daenerys defence squad#daenerys stormborn#daenerys targaryen#daenerys appreciation#mother of dragons#pro daenerys targaryen#breaker of chains#khaleesi#team daenerys#team dany#anti d&d#anti game of thrones#anti show sansa#anti show!jon#clowns gonna be clowns#that scene was so crappy and for what#i hate d&d
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Hi NightFlurry again!!
Thank you so much for loving my ideas. I'm an avid reader of your blog and love making my own stories; I always check if you have anything interesting to read or any cool art.
While I was reading your genshin yandere otome game, my brain started churning, and I thought to myself, 'If there's a yandere school au, why can't there be a yandere fantasy au as well' I'm so glad you love my work, I was afraid that it wasn't good enough...ToT Anyways, I'm trying to brainstorm some backgrounds for other characters, so far I'm working on Kazuha, Wanderer, Ei, Dainself, Diluc, Kaeya, and Zongli, but feel free to ask/request for any particular character!!
Also, I love it when people comment back on my work. It makes me feel so happy when I read each comment even if it's as lengthy as 4 paragraphs! So please feel free to comment! P.S. I'd also love to hear your opinions 2-dsimp!!
Bye NightFlurry!!
And thank you for blessing me with such good food o(≧v≦)o
I just came back from a jog so my mind is racing with ideas to share and add onto to the fantasy au from my pov! Firstly I’ll just list off the few possible candidates I can see vying for the readers hand in holy or unholy matrimony depending on what ending you get!
Itto the Terrible (He’s a dragon Oni )/Childe the Abyssal knight. but I’ll probably introduce them sometime later so for now I’ll officially announce…
Tyrant Prince! Scaramouche
He’s shunned by the royals and commoners alike. The royals find him to be unfit for succession of the queens throne simply because he was adopted by the shogun and to add insult to injury he had commoners blood running through his veins or so they thought.
As for the reason why the commoners held Tyrant prince! Scaramouche in such low regards was because of his crass and cold behavior towards them. Just imagine the look of fear, embarrassment, and shock the commoners had when he looked at them like they were mere ants, an insignificant existence that wasn’t befitting of his presence nor his attention. And treated them as such.
Although To be fair, Tyrant prince!Scaramouche wasn’t always that way. In his younger days of youth he used to be sociable and warm towards his subjects. But an incident which brought his downfall into the dark abyss of turmoil. That was done by the hands of one who he thought of as a true friend. Caused his heart to grow cruel and cold towards commoners and nobles as a whole.
To make matters worse his relationship with his mother was already strained to the point where only bitterness remained lingering on his tongue whenever he spoke of her.
Not only that he wasn’t the only one the shogun adopted being the meticulous woman she is she rounded up potential orphans that would carry on her legacy. The succession battle was nothing less then pretty since everyone who was an orphan knew the terrible conditions of those who lacked power. And so every son and daughter had the intention to kill anyone getting in there way.
With those factors Tyrant prince! Scaramouche made a promise to himself to never let anyone in as he was all he had left to salvage what remains of himself. Until he met you someone who reminded him so much of himself and yet the only difference was you were strong enough to try and free yourself from what chained you down. Instead of wallowing in self pity, hatred, and helplessness.
However, with your help he knows that the both of you could take over his kingdom via rebellion and claim revenge on the ones who wronged you both. While You deal with your shameless parents who’ve tried to sell you off into marriage with a fat old rich king from afar. Just for a quick buck to prevent the decline in their poor province.
He will execute any and all loose ends so he can truly be set free as his own person. With Tyrant prince! Scaramouche by your side it’s a guarantee that the two of you will govern his country with nobody to stand in the way of y’all’s powerful reign. All you have to do is accept that your his precious tyrant queen if not well he has his ways of convincing you otherwise. As he’s not the type to keep his hands clean…
“Isn’t the scenery beautiful my queen look at what we accomplished, now that we’re in power no one will be able to defy us nor deny us of our existence. Together we’re unstoppable— My dear why’re are you shedding your precious tears? Aren’t you happy that your family is dead, you wanted them alive you say? Haha you’re joking right? Well I suppose you’re not, I offer my utmost condolences my love but they were the ones who almost prevented us from being together. For that I couldn’t just exile them…No, for such a grave sin it ‘twas only natural that death was the only option available for them to truly repent for what they’ve done.
————/———————/———-
I might post doodles of him sometime later XD
#scaramouche x you#scaramouche imagines#yandere scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#genshin childe#ataraki itto#scaramouche scenarios#scaramouche x player#otome! yandere genshin impact#otome! yandere genshin#yandere fantasy addition#tyrant prince scaramouche#scaramouche drabble#genshin drabbles#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin impact
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I work in housekeeping, and the supervisors there are like. fucking horrible. We have the manager, who does fuck all to deal with the supervisor drama, and then we have 3 supervisors,
Supervisor J is lovely, I love her, she's the greatest manager type I've ever had (not the highest compliment when you know I've only worked two jobs but still) and she is amazing at trying to solve our issues and make this job as smooth as possible for everyone.
Supervisor T is iffy, but that's mostly just because of her connection to Supervisor D, we all feel she'll report anything we say back to D, so we can't talk to T.
Supervisor D is a fucking problem. She's gotten multiple people fired because she just fucking lies about them (me almost being one of those people), she has these stupid little cliques, she tries to get everyone against J, because she thinks J is vying for the Manager job, when J literally just wants us to be able to do our job efficiently, she sit in the office doing Fuck All all fucking day, and she just doesn't make any of us not in her little clique feel like this job is a safe/healthy work environment. (it's not safe for other reasons (namely the borderline p*do on staff which I'll probably complain about in a different ask) but D here is the MAIN reason why)
She got one of our runners fired for 'not doing his job because she never saw him' when she takes the stairs and he has to take the elevator, and the runner job is like, the easiest job to miss and yet the hardest to fucking fill with competent people, but ohhh nooo she never saw him do his job, despite the fact that the job WAS GETTING DONE WHEN HE WAS HERE but no, she never saw him in the halls. :/
D CONSTANTLY rushes us in cleaning the rooms when we have like, three rooms (the normal amount is 5 rooms, each takes around an hour-ish depending on how bad) because she wants to leave, but newsflash old woman I NEED HOURS TO MAKE MONEY TO SURVIVE, just because YOUUUU don't pay rent doesn't mean WE don't.
like an example of that is when she cleaned someone's room for them (for some reason, we weren't even staying late at ALL) then sent them to help me, and I had one room left, so I told them to go stock my room with like, the linen and concessions and shit, and then D got fucking mad at me for not telling her to clean the room ?? First off, that's your fucking job to do, tell her to clean the room, you left it up to me, so i told her to what's best to actually HELP me, second off, you TOOK ONE OF HER ROOMS TO CLEAN ??? WHY NOT JUST LET HER HAVE HER ROOM ????? IF SHE NEEDS TO CLEAN ONE ???
she almost got ME fired, because she said, and i fuckign quote '[op] gets out at the same time as everyone else on purpose so he doesn't have to help others in their rooms]' . fucking WHAT ??
first off, how would you even figure something like that out ? second off, literally no one i asked feels that way (probably except her), and THIRD OFF, NO I FUCKING DON'T ?? I HELP PEOPLE ALL THE TIME ?? THE PEOPLE THAT NEED HELP !! just because I'm not gonna help fucking M over there (who is another problem) doesn't mean I'm not helping. M always has so many rooms, because D TAKES HER OUT TO LUNCH AND LETS HER DRINK ON THE FUCKING CLOCK !! AND THEN LETS HER LEAVE WHEN SHE FEELS SICK FROM BEING DRUNK !! SO WE END UP WITH HER ROOMS ANYWAYS !!!
At the time of this ask, the younger girls (because of course its the girls from 18-21 that are having problems with this old hag :/) and supervisor J are having a meeting with the Manager, that, tbh, if it doesn't fucking go well, I'm walking out. it's gotten that fucking bad.
oh, and :) the manager is part of HR, and we don't even feel like we can go to here about afformentioned borderline p*do :) because she does JACK FUCKING ALL about anything :)
i hate it here. I'm already quitting when I get my W2, but if this meeting tomorrow doesn't go well (or if supervisor D is there at all, as we've requester her fucking NOT be there so we feel safe talking) i'm walking the fuck out of that building tomorrow. What are they gonna do ? fire me ? i'm already walking out girlfriend, and I have a shoe in job for when I leave ANYWAYS ! good luck ! i'll be back for my W2 and my last paycheck when it's there ! i'm sick and tired of y'alls bullshit !!!
Posted by admin Rodney.
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Ok, hear me out, I had random ass wolfden brain rot and now you're gonna have it to
I remember that Joseph is the alpha and Jack is somewhere below him but usually pulls Joseph's strings behind the scenes. So, what if some night Jack was being all sweet on Joseph and offers to let him relax by domming him. Joseph's never been allowed to sub as the leader of the pack and with Jack's honeyed words it doesn't take long for him to be ass up
Once they're done Jack reminds him of how humiliating it would be if the alpha was caught subbing! If he wants Jack to keep his lips sealed he has to let Jack use him whenever he wants :)
Sorry this is all a bit garbled it just popped into my brain in the shower and I needed to get it out of my brain before it disappeared ^^;
HEY HAVE I EVER MENTIONED THAT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU???
Listen, Joseph's the alpha mostly to keep the peace. Perhaps, had Elias and Taylor joined the pack sooner, Elias would've had a shot. But back when the pack was forming... well, Joseph was the only person everyone could agree on. Him and Nick, of course, but Nick staunchly refused to take on that responsibility.
It's not like he wants to be the alpha in charge, he just... he just hates the fighting. He just wants to keep the peace. And so does Jack! It's silly, really, how much Shaun and Ian object to him being the pack leader. Joseph can't wrap his head around why they insist that he's such a threat. Really, the guy's a sweetheart! And he wants nothing more than to help Joseph keep everything calm and happy.
Really, in the moment, Joseph was helpless. Such sweet words, such warm hands, and the promise of not having to think. Just for a moment, being allowed to let go. To not be in charge. To submit, like he always dreams about.
And god did Jack follow through on all those promises. To fuck him until his brain shut off. That huge cock stretching him perfectly, head hitting his prostate until he saw stars. Making him cum all over his sheets, his swollen knot bobbing between his legs rather than stuck inside someone for once. And Jack's knot... the way it pressed inside of him, kept them locked together...
As soon as Jack caught his breath, he was holding Joseph in his arms. Those big, warm, strong arms that made him feel so safe. And he's whispering in Joseph's ear, words the man can barely unscramble as he tries to regain the senses he's just had fucked out of him.
"—wouldn't do, would it? Everyone finding out the pack's leader was moaning like a bitch in heat for me."
Joseph had never heard such filthy words from Jack before tonight. But they sound more menacing now than they did when they were being grunted in his ear in time with Jack's hips.
"No one would respect you if they knew. If they knew how pathetic you looked getting knotted by me. It would humiliate you. It would throw the pack into chaos. They wouldn't be able to respect your authority... it would send us into another fight. Everyone vying to take your place... We don't want that, do we?"
Joseph whimpers nervously and shakes his head, tail twitching in agitation. "No... no..."
"Good, I'm glad we're on the same page..." Jack soothes a hand across his back, but Joseph doesn't find it as comforting as usual. "But you enjoyed this, didn't you? You want it to continue?"
Joseph reluctantly nods. There's no use in lying, they both know how much he enjoyed it. "Yes..."
"Good." Jack's voice is back to that perky, cheerful chirp. "Then we're in agreement?"
Agreement? Joseph's head feels like it's swimming. "Huh?"
"That you'll be my pretty little free use bitch, of course!" Jack says it like it's the most normal thing in the world, and it almost sets Joseph at ease. "No one will find out, but your sweet hole will be mine whenever I want it. It'll keep the pack together and give you your fill of submitting to a proper alpha. And isn't that all you want? I'm just giving you what you want."
The words come out of Joseph's mouth before he can think. Jack's doing that thing again, where he says the most unreasonable things in the most casual tone, until they sound quite agreeable. And Joseph's always been weak to that. So he nods and smiles weakly.
"Thank you, Jack."
#panie-wanie-dean-bean#sdj#somethings wrong with sunny day jack#sdj jack#sdj joseph#sunny day jack x joseph haberdae#oughhh it's been so long I feel like I'm probably missing tags but I barely remember my own tagging system#anyway I'm hoping to revamp and properly lay out my AUs soon but I love this idea!!#it'll definitely be canon in the new version of the AU >:3c#anyway mwah mwah kissing you for helping me get out of my writing rut with this!!!
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The Logistics of Longform Boyfriend Improv
Here's some random thoughts about longform boyfriend improv (and thank you to whoever coined that phrase; it's my absolute favorite way to think about fanservice because yeah, that's what's happening) I've been having and do I think it's prudent to put this on the internet? I don't know but here we go.
I'm intensely interested in the logistics of how it gets decided and codified, especially at GMMTV. Like, clearly some guys are interested in doing it as a career move, and some aren't, and GMMTV seems to roll with whatever is preferable to the actor, at least at THIS point. I feel some kind of way about the fact that Krist and Singto, say, or even Off and Gun for that matter, went into the whole thing without understanding where it would be going, because, welp, no one knew at that point.
Let me say this: I don't think in 2016 GMMTV thought that a huge number of endorsement deals would happen for dudes in these branded ships; I think it might have taken them some time. Maybe they did and I'm naive, but god, I kind of have to doubt it, especially given attitudes towards homosexuality in Thailand at the time.
So if they stumbled into this goldmine, and didn't know the longterm direction it would go, they paired guys up who had chemistry (or didn't; sorry Podd and Khaotung, but no, it was never gonna work) and threw them out there without realizing what was going to happen. It's entirely NOT surprising that some of the guys were like, no, wait, what?
Off and Gun rolled with it, but Krist and Singto didn't. Tay and New were on hiatus for how long because it seems like Newwiee was uninterested in doing the whole LBI thing. And I don't think any of those choices are bad or good, they just are. (I find Nanon to be a VERY interesting inflection point. Did Nanon know when he signed on for BBS that he was signing on for LBI? Did he agree to that? Did it organically happen over time [I find that VERY hard to believe]? Did he agree and then grow to hate it? Or was it before LBI became so intense, and as it intensified around he and Ohm, did he scream 'get me off this ship?' Fascinating. Logistics.)
But guys coming up now? They know. Satang and Winny and Aou and Boom and Marc and Pawin and Great and In and Sea and Keen and Leng--they all know. Now, have all these people agreed to do LBI? Who can say? I feel pretty solid in saying that Satang and Winny are WELL on their way, and Aou and Boom seem to be vying for it as well.
Because here's the thing: longform boyfriend improv MUST PAY. It pays in money, I'm sure, but also in fame and fans. It pays in status in GMMTV and I think we ALL know that. (The women are seemingly eager to do GL, and I think it's not hard to see why.) I think about the trade-offs, and I have to imagine these guys do too. That's not to say a guy can't get big without doing LBI; Fluke Gawin has a devoted following without doing ANY LBI, and that's fab. But if you're Winny or Satang, and you've been the side guy forever, does it seem like LBI is the way to the big time? Is Satang eyeing the Bright/Nanon road to music stardom that went through BLs for them? (Or Jeff Satur for that matter. Or Krist Perawat.)
I'm not interested in discussing the decisions these individual men are making around LBI. That feels pretty infantilizing to me. It's not a 1-to-1 comparison, but I think about this sometimes when it comes to men who compete in rough sports, like boxing or football. Some men (and women, if we're talking about boxing) will choose to take the trade-off of an uncertain health future in order to play a game that might bring them fame or fortune or hell, they just love. I'm not interested in parsing each person's choice to make that trade-off. That's up to them.
We can have a discussion about whether LBI hurts or helps BL in the long run, and we can have a discussion about whether it's harmful in a societal sense, and that's definitely an interesting discussion. But whether or not Ohm Pawat decides to get into another LBI situation? That's not something we can say a damn thing about. Only he knows, working with his current situation and what he wants for his career.
Well, that went slightly away from the idea of the logistics of LBI, but suffice it to say that this autist is highly interested in the nuts and bolts of making it all work, and about who does it and who doesn't. I'd love to just sit down with Phuwin or Dunk (my Thai isn't very good and these guys are fluent in English) and ask about the logistics. I don't want to know about the personal feelings; I want to know about the business arrangement. I think it would actually enhance LBI for me!
(Look, I know some of you HATE fanservice/longform boyfriend improv and look, I just don't. I don't want anyone to be forced to do it, and I don't care if the LBI ends. I just enjoy it while it's happening.)
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Combat
I’m ready for combat
I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?
‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies
I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you
Easy they come
Easy they go
I jump from the train
I ride off alone
I never grow up
It’s getting so old
Help me hold onto you
I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
Dark side
I search for your dark side
But what if I’m alright, right, right, right here?
And I cut off my nose just to spite my face
Then I hate my reflection for years and years
I wake in the night
I pace like a ghost
The room is on fire
Invisible smoke
And all of my heroes die all alone
Help me hold onto you
I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Screaming, “who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?”
‘Cause they see right through me
They see right through me
They see right through me
They see right through
Can you see right through me?
They see right through
They see right through me
I see right through me
I see right through me
All the king’s horses
All the king’s men
Couldn’t put me together again
‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends
Help me hold onto you
I’ve been the archer
I’ve been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
Who could stay?
You could stay
Combat
I’m ready for combat
***
It's not like Yasmine wanted the drama on the beach.
She doesn't do drama. She's above that juvenile bullshit. And in truth, no one would dare to start anything with her, anyways.
All it ends up being is a pain in her ass, leaving her scoffing and rolling her eyes as she patiently waits out a battle her opponent will lose. The status quo will right itself, the kids on the bottom of the social ladder will learn their fucking place. Again.
But she doesn't get joy from butting heads with so many people. Honest. Even if she does always come out victorious. Even if her power is reaffirmed after she kicks down some idiot who thought they could challenge a queen. It's not like she goes looking for fights.
Okay, so maybe she does. A little bit, if it's the kind she can win.
It isn't as though the world has taught her a better way to approach things. She's seen the mean girls on TV, ruling their high schools with untouchable grace and unraveling the lives of any contenders vying for their throne. Their ammo was rumors and cruel words and systematic ways of tearing people down enough that they didn't have any fight left to challenge you.
This is the San Fernando Valley, after all. They're not some barbarians, and you can't just stab anyone who pisses you off. In a world where assault can get you expelled, the next best thing is mental and emotional warfare. A skill that Yasmine isn't afraid to admit she excels at.
The problem is that the verbal brutality that always sends TV nerds crying is not enough to take down Aisha Robinson.
And then the bitch's hand is down her shorts and the space in between her legs is burning and everything ends in a heartbeat.
*
It's amazing, really, how many times she's rewritten that phone call.
The real thing was over in a few minutes. A quick, succinct attack, ripping Moon to pieces in just a few sentences.
There were better ways to say it, of course. There were also worse ways.
Sometimes when she types the replacements up, they're angry. Pages long, every barb and insult and exploited insecurity that she'd forgotten to say. Everything wrong with Moon and everything Yasmine hated about her, laid bare and unabridged.
Other times, the replacements are sad. Apologies, pleas for forgiveness. A voice so plaintive it's almost pathetic, trying to find some way to help Moon understand everything she can't say. Some way to help Moon undo the tangled knot of Yasmine's feelings, as stubborn and unyielding as a bad hair snag.
Because she wants someone to try and understand. She wants someone to bridge the gap between who she is and who everyone wants her to be.
And Moon is the only one who gets how different those two people are. Moon is the only one who's okay with that.
Perhaps if Moon came back, Yasmine wouldn't always feel like she was stumbling along the edge of some yawning abyss, hurricane-level winds challenging her every effort to stay upright. Or perhaps if Moon came back, Yasmine would become an afterthought to Moon's starry-eyed stares at people leagues below the both of them.
Both versions end up typed out in their texting history, and then deleted. The thread hasn't been active since Yasmine's birthday.
***
It's amazing, really, how effortlessly people leave her.
Gaining those followers was almost as easy. All she had to do was walk with poise and keep her lips twisted in a condescending sneer, making any passerby frantic not to get on her bad side. Now, her followers wash away like a bargain perfume in the shower--temporary, skin-deep, fake. The scent of chemicals and plastic and artificial additives masking anything genuine.
Yasmine just never thought Moon would be one of those people.
She looks so happy in her Instagram stories, laughing with her new friends and making kissy faces at her stupid boyfriend. He got his hair redone and now he somehow looks even worse.
It's beyond embarrassing Yasmine got passed over for this creep.
Yasmine's family don't speak to her as they board the train for Villefranche-sur-mer. She's a surly presence, glued to her phone screen and face pinched into a scowl.
But all Yasmine can think about is how alone she feels, even among her own flesh and blood.
Because at the end of the day, that's where she always ends up, isn't it? That's always what happens when people see her for who she truly is.
Because maybe Moon was onto something.
She has plenty she should feel sorry for. She's catty and callous and downright childish when things don't go her way, but she's not sure how to be anything else.
And there's only one person in this whole wretched world who's given her even an inkling of a desire to try.
***
For a long time, Yasmine tried desperately to convince herself that Moon was just as bad as her.
She had to be. That's why she laughed along whenever Yasmine stuck in her sharp comments like splinters under skin. That's why she never protested when Yasmine made the difficult calls, throwing out friends who tried to undermine the clique and teaching them what happened to backstabbers. That's why she stood back when Yasmine joined Kyler in bullying the losers, pouring more and more salt into already infected wounds.
And sure, Moon seemed guilty sometimes. Sure, she liked to act like she had a conscience about all the fucked-up shit they did.
But she was only saying that to make herself feel better. Yasmine knew, deep down, she agreed with it all.
She had to. Why else would she be drawn to someone who was her polar opposite? Cruel in all the ways she was kind? Loud in all the ways she was quiet? Strong-willed in all the ways she was easygoing?
No, anyone who stuck with Yasmine as long as Moon did had to have a truly vile side. Otherwise, Moon would have left long ago.
Because a truly good person couldn't love someone like Yasmine. Something like Yasmine.
At least that's how Yasmine tries to make sense of it.
"No, I'm staying. I apologized to Aisha for what we did, and you should, too."
No, actually, Yasmine wanted to snarl. I'm fine where I am. I like who I am. I don't need to change. Yasmine the Mean Girl made it this far, so I must be doing something right.
And she would've stayed in that Yasmine forever--Yasmine the mean girl, Yasmine the bitch, Yasmine the queen bee. Stubbornly clinging to an image and an ideal always doomed to collapse in on itself. Tucked away safely behind the straightened hair and perpetual sneers that had always given her strength.
Because who was she, if not power incarnate? Who was she, if not a hurricane of a force to be feared and respected by all her peers.
She guesses she'll have to find out.
***
Yasmine hears her sister puff into the darkness. She imagines the smoke faintly glowing in reds, oranges, blues, and greens, just catching the flashing club lights streaming in under the closed door.
Cool glass beneath her fingers, and she realizes it's her turn with the bong.
It's nice to have something to cover up the room's musty smell. Tucked away in the back of the Nuits Blanches, it reeks of sweat, alcohol, and god-knows-what-else.
Most people use it for fucking. Yasmine and Rosalie have better plans: weed and incessant bitching.
Whatever Ros got from Thibault (or whatever his name was) must have some other shit in it, because it sure as hell is not relaxing Yasmine like it's supposed to. In minutes, she's walking aimlessly around the room, mumbling to herself about losers and freaks.
"It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. They stole my life from me, Ros! Like, what did I ever do to deserve this?"
Rosalie exhales more unseen smoke.
"Don't'cha know, Yas? Pretty girls only get a day in the limelight. Some'n always takes our place."
"It's bullshit."
"'t's how shit works." Rosalie chuckles, and it turns to coughs halfway through. "You know, like. Paris, right? How no one's heard anything 'bout her for years?"
Yasmine frowns. "Didn't she get Botox?"
"'zactly. She's like...50 now or something. But no one remembers jack 'bout her except that she's hot and blonde and rich. And after she overdoses on heroin or drinks herself to death or whatever, that'll be all people ever remember. "
"I thought she was doing fine. Had like...kids and shit."
"Oh, sure, but who cares? Point is that no one's talking 'bout her anymore. Now it's all Karlie or Cara or whoever. Pretty girls get their 15 minutes of fame and then the world moves on. Can't get people to bend to your will anymore when they've already gone off to the next girl."
"It can't be that cut-and-dry."
"You think I wouldn't know?" Rosalie scoffs. "I'm telling you, that's how this life works. 'T's not like I'll be set for life if my Insta posts go viral like I want. I'll be trending for a few months or a few weeks, and then everyone'll move on to the next thirst trap or whatever. Then I gotta find some other way to get back on the radar if I want people to notice me again. And high school's basically a smaller scale version of that, right?"
"I don't know." Yasmine scowls. "I always figured if you managed to claw your way all the way up top, you earned the right to keep your place."
"Oh, you wish." Rosalie sounds almost pitying. "Or like...Kim Kardashian, right? You think anyone's gonna remember anything about her 'cept her big ass and her stupid show?"
"She and Paris are married, though, right? So lotta people would say they 'succeeded' at their shit. Or whatever that looks like."
For some reason, the idea of using a husband as an accomplishment metric makes Yasmine feel nauseous. But she won't deny the truth of it.
It's not as bad as it was, like, 200 years ago or whatever. No one's going to cart her off to jail if she doesn't tie the know with some asshole. But the pressure to find her "male half" is always hovering just out of sight, following her like a bad omen.
"Yeah, for now." Rosalie blows into the air again, and Yasmine imagines her puffing out a long trail of smoke. "Until Kanye and Carter cheat on them with someone half their age. Girls like us always die alone, Yasmine. We shrivel up and become unmarketable and no one loves us anymore."
Yasmine hopes her sister's wrong.
***
It's a strange thing. The very girls who once sat around her table and answered to her without question are now snickering at her in the hallways, whispering among themselves as she passes.
She's never been on the other side of this. She's always been the scoffer, and never the one getting scoffed at. She guesses she knows how it feels now, being a victim of...whatever this is. The kind of viciousness she used to perpetuate.
And every time someone shouts a taunt at her, it's yet another reminder that when something's been so thoroughly destroyed, it can't ever come back the same. There's no way to tape all the pieces into anything resembling the original.
Yasmine wonders if the crowds she used to run with and the people she used to command could always see her for who she really was. She wonders if they were merely gathering up the courage to leave her. Waiting for her to weaken enough that it was possible, perhaps. It certainly seems likely, what with all her old clique turned to hostile, jeering adversaries.
Well. All except one.
There's one person who glares at every passing student who makes a dig at Yasmine. There's one person who squeezes her hand a little tighter when the other kids call her names. There's one person who Yasmine would brave every insult for, endure every possible humiliation if it meant holding onto her.
Yasmine doesn't want drama, honest. She doesn't want a fight. But if it comes to one, she has the only ally she could ever need. The only person she wants to charge into battle with.
And as she strolls around the mall, listening to stories of Saturday morning yoga and turquoise jewelry scams, she doesn't need to wonder who could stay.
She smiles at Moon.
You could stay.
***
EYYYY BARELY IN TIME FOR THE LAST DAY OF FEBRUARY (leap day, no less!!!) BUT HERE WE ARE!!! HAVE A BONUS LAST-MINUTE FEMSLASH FEBRUARY POST WITH OUR EXTRA DAY!!!
Bro I have soooooo many emotions about these two and this song, like??? The fact that Moon stayed is part of what made me so Down Bad for this ship. Like she very much did not have to. She coulda bailed on Yasmine's ass forever after the beach party drama, and I would not have blamed her one bit. But her gay ass took Yasmine right tf back, even after Yasmine shows 0 guilt or intention to change whatsoever XD
AND Yasmine's gay ass forgave Moon, too??? Like I'm sure Yasmine didn't decimate her social circle SO bad that she couldn't make other friends if she wanted. One time in S3 we even see her sitting at a lunch table with a random extra girl (the scene where Kyler draws a dick on Demetri's cast, if you're curious), so we know she didn't lose ALL her friends after the Wedgie Incident. But nah, she wants to hang out 24/7 with the girl who ditched her for a mohawk weirdo on her birthday XD IF THAT AIN'T LESBIAN LOVE, I DAMN WELL DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.
And I've said it before, but it could well be SOLELY Moon's influence that convinces Yasmine to improve herself at all??? Like Moon is all "hmmmm, you could be nicer, you know >:(" and then Yasmine reconciles with Sam AND takes pity on Demetri when he gets bullied??? And in later seasons she's even befriending Eli, who her S1 self would not have touched with a 30-foot pole!!! And it all seems to stem back to Moon, does it not??? And I think that's pretty neat. Also pretty gay.
Yasmine Nolastname 🫱🏼🫲🏼Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz
I cry about them when listening to Taylor Swift's "The Archer" because they're both ex-bullies who decided to better themselves because they were gay for their best friend. So true of them tbh!!
I went with dusky lavender-ish themes for this moodboard because idk, it just felt right. Something something the sun setting on Mean Yasmine and rising on New and Improved Yasmine, etc etc. It's also such a soft, contemplative, and kind of bittersweet color to me. Like it has a certain sadness to it, but an understated hopefulness, too??? Idk, I'm just going off Vibes here. But anyways, mix that with kind of a sunset/spring flower soft pink, and I think you get a pretty good picture of Yasmine's general S3 energy. Like she was trying!!! She was struggling, but damn, if she wasn't trying!!! Just wish they hadn't rushed the poor thing's redemption arc so much that the drastic change in her in S4 is legitimately kind of unsettling.
Yes, I DO fully believe Moon would make cherry-blossom-and-lilac (at least I think that's what those flowers are???) milk tea for her girlfriend, thank you for asking 💗💜💗💜 You can pry my headcanon that Moon makes fancy, soothing herbal teas for her loved ones out of my cold, dead hands. I just hope she doesn't use them as a substitute for modern medicine. Also, these two would be THE most obnoxious Boba Bitches™️, I just know it.
Tbh I've been looking for an excuse to use the top right corner pic because I am enamored with it ;_____; Like that's literally just Yasmine??? And the thought of her having moon-themed jewelry to always kinda keep a piece of her girlfriend with her is making me Feel Things ;_____; Also, wearing a sweater-but-slutty is painfully Yasmine XD Like how else will you brave those brutal SoCal winters???
To be fair, it DOES tend to get Just Cold Enough that a crop-top sweater might actually keep you at the right temperature ajasdhkuyg. Slutty yet practical fashion choice???
ALSO the bottom left pic is yet another outfit I NEED to see Moon in, like!!! It's so cute and EXACTLY her style. Right down to the tree of life and crystal-looking necklaces!!! Please, Cobra Kai showrunners, I just want Moon to take her girlfriend on tranquil nature walks in long, flowy, comfortable skirts and feel at peace with herself and with the world ;______; It's what she deserves!!! It's what both these home of sexuals deserve!!!
YasMoon tag list 🩷💛🩷💛
@multifandom-lesbian09 @karatecaulfield @themasterusersblog @ficusin @gemini-sensei @elisiassideb1tch
As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3
#yasmoon#yasmine x moon#moon x yasmine#aesthetic#moodboard#yasmine cobra kai#moon cobra kai#cobra kai#cobra kai season 1#cobra kai season 3#cobra kai season 4#cobra kai season 5#femslash#femslash february#femslashfeb2024#wlw#sapphic#lesbian
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Blow
DWC Feb 2024
Day 3: Bargain/Myth
As the conversation got less animated and Terry became more antsy to be on his way, Rumpole brought out one final set of papers. The lazy farmboy in him groaned, but outwardly, all Terry said was, "Seriously, I don't know any other plots. Th' closer y' get t' th' cities, th' less I even visited, let alone--"
"No, no, we're quite done with that, don't worry! I just had one other thing to bring to your attention before you got on your way. The Queen is refreshingly forward-thinking, as you've no doubt noticed by now, and as our beloved country is a touch low on…well, almost every resource…"
"Rumpole. I'm very tired, and I've already missed my deadline. Please."
"Oh, all right, but you're really spoiling the fun." With a small huff, the lawyer handed Terry another of those fancy papers bearing the royal seal, and he cracked it open to read. This one was a full-length scroll that hung down somewhere near his ankles, and it was absolutely covered in writing. Disgustingly dense fine print, on first glance, but once he found a few strange images, resembling nothing so much as a series of blank templates, he went back to the beginning to actually absorb what he was reading.
It wasn't that Terry couldn't follow legalese; he was in many respects a brilliant man, even if he'd never admit it or acknowledge it. He just really, really hated double-talk and wordplay this dry. It was at least fun to do that in poems and stuff. Doing it when you were talking about border disputes or who owned a cow was just infuriating. But as he read, he started to recognize certain phrases and terms from Rumpole's speech, which he'd also only partially listened to earlier in this meeting.
Much of it was what they'd already discussed about the dearth of citizenry remaining to lay claim to the various lands that lay barren and abandoned throughout the kingdom. What followed that was the rules for staking such claims, which were surprisingly thorough for all that they boiled down to 'If you're alive and have satisfactory proof of your identity, here you go.' There was follow-up regarding the payment of taxes, but that thankfully didn't appear to be retroactive. Their new queen had figured out right away that that would've been a civil war right out the gate, at least. In fact, it looked like there was a small stipend involved for the first year or so to help reestablish homesteads properly. Tess didn't seem to want people to grab the land and wander off. That, Terry approved of.
Once he got out of the homesteading stuff, things began to take a turn toward the matter of population, castes, and territories. The collapse of several houses due to the Northgate Rebellion and the fallout from the Shattering had been well-known in general, but this document appeared to be making it official. Even if it hadn't been from those events directly, it'd been over a decade since then; lots of the blue-bloods had scattered, died of old age, or just started over elsewhere. Those houses were gone, no scions remained to claim them, and with a heavy heart the Crown blah blah sure whatever dead nobles can't own anything so now the Crown's taking it back...makes sense. Still likely to be fighting about that, but less than there would've with a bunch of cousins and shit vying for scraps. Tess was already doing better than her great lump of a father at this, by his reckoning.
His reading slowed down significantly once he got to the next segment, where all those pictures sat in the middle of the paragraph. After a few seconds, his heart briefly stopped.
"Rumpole."
"Eh?"
"This is a proclamation o' th' establishment o' new houses."
"Ah, you've hit the nail squarely on the head!"
"I am not a noble, Rumpole!"
"That, my boy, is where you'd be wrong!" Reaching across the desk, the barrister plucked the scroll from Terry's stunned hands and rolled it back up. He didn't need to read it to talk about this part; he'd been warned well in advance that Terry Lias-Ambroce was going to be a bit touchy about it, and he'd come prepared.
"Like I said before, we've got a bit of a drought on almost every resource at present--and that includes nobility, wot? And as the Queen is a forward-thinking queen, she seems inclined to set things up before there's bunch of nasty squabbles while various up-and-comers try to do it themselves. Gilneas has had quite enough warring and destruction and we could all quite use a few years where we don't have more Gilnean deaths than births, eh?"
Terry made vague grasping motions at nothing with both hands, eyes wide. "I am not a noble!"
"Well, you're still technically correct, of course. No signatures, no change, eh?" Rumpole grinned, even while Terry barely reacted at all. "But you have gone and established yourself as a good candidate by the Crown's reckoning."
The lawyer began counting off on his fingers. "You have a strong military background with a nearly mythical reputation, good sir Lighthound. Did you really think that wouldn't reach the eyes of what remained of the court? Gilneas has precious few heroes, let alone living ones. Minor though you might think you are, you went and became one, eh?"
A second finger raised. "And, of course, you've the ability and the intent to lay claim to a not insignificant portion of land, here. And, if I'm not mistaken, you intend to take care of it properly, as a son of Gilneas ought."
The third finger went up as Rumpole fetched a specific sheet from the file he'd brought with him. "And then, of course, there's all these fascinating connections you've established. Both the Crusader-Lord and the Knight-Commander of the Argent Crusade; a retired Ironforge senator and patriarch of Clan Truthhammer and his wife, the High Priestess and Ambassador; Captain Sirenspawn and General Rutherford of the Grand Army of the Alliance... and those are just the direct ones. I've got records of you hobnobbing with Turalyon and Alleria, and attending the wedding of the First Arcanist Thalyssra and Regent Lord Lor'Themar..."
I told Dwyn I shouldn't have been there! Damn it!
"...and that's before I even touch on the indirect ones you have through your brother, and, of course, your wife."
"My w--"
"Well of course your wife, man!" Rumpole practically giggled at Terry's expression, situated somewhere right in the middle of furious and horrified. "You may not be a noble here, but through her, you're a noble there." He picked up another sheet from the file and gave it a little swat. "She went through all the picky nonsense to legitimize herself through the Doppelganger Decree of 28! Clever woman, that; lucky you, eh? And all clean and clear-cut on paper, that makes you the Baron of the Brightwood to your Baroness, eh?"
Of course Terry knew Shedwyn had been busy with all that. He'd been under the impression it was largely to spite all the jackass nobles who sneered down their noses at her, more than any real interest in the legitimacy of it all. Neither of them particularly wanted to be nobles, when nobles acted like that. He still wasn't sure what had been the tipping point: the third time somebody offered a tenth of the land's value to "take the burden off her pretty shoulders," or the one particularly offensive jackoff who'd commented that if she didn't have so much land, she might be able to deal with the "infestation" on it. He hadn't meant feral worgen.
Somehow, once Shedwyn had been formally and properly declared the Baroness of Brightwood Grove, Terry had still never truly connected himself to the thought that by marriage, he was therefore Baron.
Until now.
And he was pretty sure she'd done it to spite him, too.
It'd been three years.
She was never going to shut up about this one.
"The existing title isn't even a requirement for eligibility as far as the Queen is concerned, mind; it simply helps! A bit of borrowed legitimacy to add to your own impressive pile, eh? So. What do you say?"
"Come again?"
"Well, it's not something you have no say in, establishing your own house. Perhaps back in the day, when kings and queens tossed out titles like roses at a tournament, sure, but this is a very particular situation. Queen Greymane wants nobles who are Gilnean to their core; who are ready, willing, and able to do the work to bring our kingdom back to its former gloomy glory. And you, Sergeant, fit that bill, by my eyes and by the requirements she provided. But at the end of it all, it's your choice. If you are not willing, then the Crown is not interested in enslavement of any kind, even if it does come with prestige at the end of it. It's a choice, not an obligation, eh?"
A choice. One hell of a fucking choice. But this time, it actually felt like a choice; not a devil's bargain, where the alternative was objectively screwing him or someone he cared about. This had been a trap, to be certain, but not a literal one. It was the kind of trap where someone, somewhere, was laughing their ass off.
Terry Ambroce had always been a patriot. Even in his teens, when he was spitting acid about everything Genn Greymane said, did or would do, he did so for love of his country, not for himself. He'd intended to be part of the rebellion at Northgate, even, but everything had gone so wrong, so fast...
He'd learned since then that the fighting wasn't the hardest part. It was putting everything back together afterward. Fighting was easy. Battles had a beginning and an end; swords up, enough people died, swords down. Done. Reclamation, restoration, reconstruction... those went on for lifetimes. They required dedication, not eagerness. Building a nation was already hard enough; rebuilding one was a monumental effort. Holding it together, even harder still.
He'd spent half his life, now, insisting that Gilneas still lived. Even if he could never go home again, he knew he would've sworn on his deathbed that Gilneas still lived. And here, now, he had in front of him the opportunity to do what he'd wanted to do when he was a boy, and resuscitate it. He was already doing the math. Paper was the easy part, proclamations would be welcomed by many and growled about by few. Some of the growlers would inevitably start trying to cause trouble, test the viability of these new houses over and over. He could deal with skirmishers and bandits, but... politics?
---
Shu-fen was irritated. She'd gotten word from the Baron that morning that he'd been discharged, and that he would be picking up his children that afternoon. And yet, here she was, taking over that duty, since their normal escort had already been informed they could have the rest of the day off, and the Baron had failed to appear. It wasn't that escorting the Ambroce children was particularly difficult, as they behaved well for everyone except their parents; it was that she'd planned her day as well as the Baroness's around the exception, and now everything was out of order.
It came as no surprise to anyone, therefore, least of all Terry, when she punched him in the face as soon as he arrived. Part of that was because he'd surprised her, and it was really, really hard to do that, but still.
Once he'd gotten a moment to explain himself, she was willing to accept that perhaps he hadn't deserved to be punched in the face. And once he'd followed up with a suggestion, she actually apologized to him.
---
Shedwyn was worried. Shu-fen had dismissed some of the standard help, which wasn't anything to fret over, but then the Pandaren had received a notice, cursed, and excused herself. None of these things were particularly out of the ordinary--sometimes, shit just happened, after all; that was why she'd hired Shu-fen as an assistant in the first place. But, even after several years running of actual, honest-to-gods peace, she couldn't help but suspect more sinister things, given too much time to herself.
She was just about to go out looking for her when Shu-fen returned home. Her expression was a touch more wooden than usual, even with the tight little smile she was wearing, and that put Dwyn even more on edge.
"The Viscount of Keel to see you, madame."
Dwyn paused. "...The what of where? Hold on, that's not even on the schedule for today, is it?" In a brief, nearly panicked frenzy, she scrabbled through her papers to double-check.
Terry stepped into the doorway behind Shu-fen, who bowed respectfully and ducked outside to go have a good, loud cackle.
After a minute, Shedwyn finally thought to look up, and after another still, she parsed that this was indeed her husband, not some shadowy figure from her past (or his) back to haunt her yet again.
There was a pregnant pause.
"FUCKIN' WHAT?!"
( @daily-writing-challenge @shedwyn @sirdolraan @darbiebot @red-alynore )
#and so arrives terry#my writing#dwc#waxing crescent#I sam vimes'd him and I'm NOT sorry#eeheeheehee#good news that's the end of this one
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dancing with our hands tied | part 3/6
jake seresin x pilot!reader
summary: Y/n Harris, the top student at Top Gun Academy finds her match in Jake "Hangman" Seresin, unraveling a fierce rivalry and uncharted feelings.
warnings: none, i think
reputation series | my masterlist
As the days at the Top Gun Academy passed, the rivalry between Python and Hangman intensified, drawing them into a tangled web of competition and fascination. They found themselves vying for every opportunity to showcase their skills, each determined to outdo the other.
During one particularly heated simulation, Hangman executed a jaw-dropping maneuver that left everyone in awe. The other pilots cheered, acknowledging his skill. But Python was not one to back down. With a determined glint in her eyes, she stepped forward and requested a chance to prove herself.
Captain Mitchell raised an eyebrow, impressed by her tenacity. "You're up, Harris. Show us what you've got."
Python's heart raced as she climbed into her fighter jet, knowing that this was her chance to prove that she was more than just a charming presence. As she took to the skies, she executed a series of daring moves, demonstrating her precision and mastery of the aircraft.
The spectators were spellbound as they witnessed her prowess. Hangman watched with a mix of admiration and competitiveness, unable to tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing performance.
When the simulation ended, Hangman approached Python with a half-smile. "Impressive, Python. I guess you're not all charm after all."
She met his gaze, her eyes challenging. "And you're not all bravado, Hangman. There's more to both of us than meets the eye."
As the weeks went by, the dynamic between Python and Hangman evolved. They engaged in friendly banter, a constant push and pull that both energized and frustrated them. Their rivalry became a dance of deception, each trying to outwit the other while secretly grappling with their growing fascination for their adversary.
During one night out at the bar, the pilots were celebrating a successful week of training. The atmosphere was lively, and the camaraderie was evident as they laughed and shared stories of their aerial escapades.
Hangman and Python found themselves sitting side by side, the playful competitiveness between them taking a back seat for the moment. They exchanged stories of their childhoods, their dreams of becoming Navy pilots, and the sacrifices they had made to reach their current positions.
"Growing up, I idolized my dad," Python admitted with a touch of vulnerability in her voice. "He was a Navy pilot, and I wanted to be just like him."
Hangman nodded, a sense of understanding in his eyes. "I can relate. My father served too, and I knew from a young age that I wanted to follow in his footsteps. It's a legacy that weighs on me every day."
In that moment, the rivalry faded, and they found themselves connecting on a deeper level. They shared their hopes and fears, their dreams and insecurities. It was a glimpse behind the armor they both wore, and it left them both intrigued and unnerved.
As the night wore on, Hangman suggested a game of pool, a chance to let off steam and engage in some friendly competition outside the cockpit. They laughed and teased each other as they played, the energy between them charged with both camaraderie and a sense of something more.
As the game progressed, they found themselves standing close to each other, the pool cues forgotten. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away around them.
"I never expected to find someone who challenges me like you do, Python," Hangman admitted, his voice sincere. "It's both infuriating and exhilarating."
She smiled, her heart pounding in her chest. "I feel the same way, Hangman. You've pushed me to become a better pilot, and I can't help but admire your skill and determination."
Their conversation was interrupted by the cheers of their fellow pilots as another game concluded. The momentary connection they had shared dissipated, leaving them both feeling vulnerable and exposed.
As the night drew to a close, Hangman and Python found themselves walking back to the barracks together. Their footsteps echoed in the darkness, the tension between them almost palpable.
Before they parted ways, Hangman turned to face Python, his eyes searching hers. "You know, Python, there's something about you that I can't quite figure out. I feel like there's more to you than meets the eye."
She chuckled, masking her unease. "Maybe one day, Hangman, you'll get to see the real me."
With that enigmatic remark, Python turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Hangman standing there, both intrigued and perplexed by the woman he couldn't seem to unravel.
The days turned into weeks, and the bond between Python and Hangman continued to deepen. Their rivalry was now infused with a newfound respect and fascination for each other's skills and personalities. They found themselves seeking each other's company, drawn together like magnets, unable to resist the pull.
But unbeknownst to Hangman, Python was grappling with conflicting emotions. Her seductive tactics, once a means to an end, were now leading her down a path she hadn't anticipated. She was torn between her ambition and the unexpected stirrings of genuine affection she felt for Hangman.
In the heart of their rivalry, Python was about to discover that the lines between seduction and authenticity were beginning to blur, and the consequences of her actions were far more significant than she could have ever imagined.
#hangman x y/n#hangman x you#top gun hangman#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun imagines#top gun maverick
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Little Quidditch Series (1/?)
content warnings: fall from a great height (non-descriptive and inconsequential). swearing.
"So, what do you think?" Charlie leans over his shoulder, and Percy finally drags his eyes away from the Little Quidditch Summer Camp brochure his brothers had just shoved under his nose.
"I-… Yeah, it's good." He starts over, trying to force a livelier tone, irredeemably marred by hesitation despite his efforts. It's all Percy can do not to gape at the price; black print over the garish yellow rendition of a snitch. He eyes his brothers instead. "Do... Mum and Dad know about this?"
Bill laughs out loud, and slaps a hand down on his back with enough strength that Percy actually sways on his feet. "Of course not! They'd never let us do it."
"They'd never let her do it." Charlie grumbles, to his left.
Bill gestures vaguely (Percy can't pinpoint whether it is dismissal or agreement) before carrying on, in a mischievous tone that reminds him eerily of the twins: "Which is why we intend to send them on a little vacation."
Percy's eyebrows disappear into his curls. "You can afford that?"
His brothers exchange looks, suddenly engaged in a silent conversation Percy, childishly, fails to not feel left out of.
"It's their wedding anniversary, so we have a good excuse to spend money on them." Bill shrugs, as if that answers anything. Percy doesn't quite resist the urge to roll his eyes. Bill has... Never been very good at speaking to him. He used to make an effort, when they were little; and Percy used to enjoy spending time with his Eldest Brother Bill.
But then Bill left for Egypt, and Percy eventually realised he'd only ever made an effort because Percy was little -- a whole six years younger, actually --, not because he enjoyed his company or they genuinely got along. It was, in the end, just another of those instances where Percy got the hint embarrassingly late.
(He tells himself it doesn't sting.)
It's Charlie, as usual, who steps in. He certainly doesn't like the tension, but, perhaps more important, Charlie's always been the one to talk Percy into agreeing to questionable shit.
"I'm stationed at the Welsh Green Reserve up north 'til the end of summer." Charlie makes eye contact and grabs a hold of his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We wouldn't leave you all alone with the kids."
Percy has to press his lips together to keep quiet: as the only one who can cook, it will be as though he's all alone with the kids. Charlie, for his many good qualities, is just another mouth to feed, and his presence instigates the other four into vying for The Cool Brother's undivided attention.
Percy refuses to dwell on his jealousy, so he looks away.
He finds that he can see all of his younger siblings at once: the twins are up in the air, yelling instructions to Ron (who's doing a piss poor job of defending three floating hoops from the makeshift Quaffle -- Percy reckons he'd be doing better without their help, which is probably their strategy), but Ginny is much closer, taking her frustrations out on the world by angrily tossing rocks into the duck pond.
All of them know she's far too young for an average-sized broom, of course, but the fiasco of Percy's fifth birthday had Mum banning any kid under seven from so much as catching a ride with an older sibling.
(Percy, in a real feat of panic and the kind of stupidity afforded only by childhood, had flung himself off. The only thing that'd stopped him hitting the ground was a bout of accidental magic -- whether his, Bill or Charlie's is anyone's guess.)
He sighs, defeated. It is better for Ginny to learn from professionals than risk getting into a freak accident -- he gives it less than a year before she figures out how to break into the broom shed --, and it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission where his parents are concerned, despite the way going behind their backs on something so important makes his skin crawl.
(He frowns. Surely, no one's running a Quidditch Camp where they'll accept any family member as the guardian? Percy skims the small letters a few more times, but finds nothing. There must be a permission slip, though -- an address to owl, at the very least. He assigns himself the task of looking into it properly, the way it's clear neither Bill nor Charlie bothered to do.)
It's not a good omen for the rest of his Summer, if he agrees to this, but... Well, Charlie brings in money. He pays rent, he buys food -- he won't just be mooching off Percy's cooking.
(He tries not to anticipate a more expensive gift for his birthday, free from the outrageous fees of international owl post, and fails.)
It also means there'll be at least one person with an Apparition licence, in the case of an emergency -- two after the 22nd, when Percy intends to celebrate his birthday by taking the Knight Bus up to London and testing at the Ministry.
(He is absolutely not still salty about being the youngest in his year.)
Mum shouts them inside for supper. Ron descends with the sock-Quaffle, running on scrawny legs to put his broom away, as Fred and George elect instead to tease Ginny by flying circles around her head. Percy steels himself for a packed August, locked under two expectant gazes.
"Are the two of you sure you can afford this?"
Charlie ruffles his hair, Bill snorts derisively, and Percy tries not to glare at either of them too harshly.
"Stop worrying, Perce. We got it."
alternatively, the kidfic:
Ginny is 5-going-on-6 and desperately wants to fly alongside her brothers, so Bill and Charlie hatch a plan to get her away from Molly's Mother Bear claws. Percy, a month away from 17 and suffering from Eldest Daughter Syndrome, predictably ends up in charge of everything.
An extension of a roleplay scene; might make this a proper fanfiction one day. For now, I'll post snippets as they come to me.
did not proofread.
#percy weasley#charlie weasley#bill weasley#weasley family#percy x oliver#perciver#(eventually)#w: the kidfic
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