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autumnleaves1991-blog · 30 days

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My Home Is You Part 2/3

A/N: Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting. And @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 for asking about a taglist and commenting on the last part.

Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.

Part One Part Three

“So are you two fucking?” Freddy sits across from you, pointing between you and Gus.

“Freddy!” Gus shouts, outraged as you spit tea across the table, staining the map.

“What?! It’s a valid question!” Freddy grins, crossing his arms over his chest. You cough, trying to catch your breath while Gus pats your back trying to clear your airway. “It’s a small boat,” he continues, despite the incredulous looks from both you and Gus. “And it’s obvious you’re sleeping together, but what I want to know is if you’re fucking?”

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Henry shakes his head and quickly grabs the back of Freddys coat to drag him up the stairs to the deck, his vocal protests growing quiet at he moves further away.

“Here,” you glance up and see Appleyard holding out a glass of water, “Freddy doesn’t have a filter.”

“It’s alright,” you sip slowly at the water, “he’s right, it is a small boat.” You glance at Gus, “filled with intelligent men that are bound to notice I’ve been sleeping in bed with you since the day I arrived.”

“But just sleeping,” Gus brushes a finger over your cheek, before a grin spreads across his cheeks like a cheshire cat. “I’m a lady, and I will not have my virtue questioned,” he holds a hand to his chest in fake modesty, “it’s a struggle, Apple, day and night I have to keep this daring rogue off me.”

“Me?” you ask, faking outrage, “virtue my ass,” you reach a hand out to Apple, “the lady doth protests but everytime I have her moaning into the pillow that protest falls on deaf ears.” Apple looks between you both with a grin shaking his head and rolling his eyes before you both fall into each other with laughter.

“I think you might have met your match,” Apple crosses his arms over his chest, “and a part of me is alarmed as well as pleased.”

“BOSS!” Henry shouts from above, and you rush to the deck, “it’s a British destroyer,” he points off through the fog.

“Do you think they’ve spotted us?” you ask, eyes going wide, “can we hide in the fog?”

“I can’t outrun that, darlin’,” Freddy frowns.

“And if we’ve seen them,” Gus lowers the spyglass, “they’ve surely seen us.”

“What do we do?” you stand beside him and he tugs off his coat, putting it around your shivering shoulders before placing his arm around your waist.

“Well,” he looks around at the other men, “we play the part. We are swedish fisherman, let’s be swedish fisherman.”

The boys work like a well-oiled machine as they quickly remove any guns, explosives, or otherwise unsavory items below deck and hide them away. The destroyer looms closer and the sway of the waves does nothing to quell the unease in your belly. “Time to move, Little Lamb,” Anders, holds his hand out for you and you grab it, sliding your hands into the sleeves of Gus’s coat as he lowers you below deck and hides you away. “Stay put,” he smiles softly, “everything will be okay.”

Gus comes down the stairs, pressing a hand to Anders's shoulder as he moves past him back up to the deck. “You all settled then?” Gus asks, coming to stand before you, you nod silently, “good,” he looks around, “good. We’re going to be fine. I promised you remember?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he grabs your arm, tugging you closer before lowering his mouth to your ear, his mustache scratches against your cheek and his breath hot against your neck leaves you trembling.

His voice is low, deep, and etched with promise, “I don’t,” he whispers pressing his lips to your neck for a moment before quickly retreating up the stairs. You fall back against the wall, your breath coming out hard and fast as you quickly pull the wall shut, disappearing from view. The skin of your neck burns like a brand from his kiss, and you press your palm to it and close your eyes remembering every moment like a cinema reel.

The waves kick up as the ship moves alongside the small fishing vessel and you can hear snippets of the conversation. Your blood churning cold when Gus replies using his normal voice, not the accent he’d been practicing moments before. Suddenly you hear your name shouted from above and push the wall back, running up the stairs, “What’s happening?!”

“Help Freddy with the sail,” Henry shouts, everyone moving as quickly as possible, “we need to get the hell out of here.”

You don’t question, doing everything you can to get the boat moving. Finally, everyone but Henry stops, watching the destroyer set off bombs into the water. “U-boat,” Gus replies, coming to stand beside you, holding onto your waist as the ship rocks from the tumultuous waves. The sea becomes quiet, nothing but the whip of the wind as you move further and further away. “Bullseye,” Gus whispers, “I think they got him.”

“But let’s keep going Hayzy,” Freddy shouts, “don’t want to take any chances.”

The rest of the day passes in silence as you all take in the close call. And as night descends and dinner passes no one says a word when Gus climbs into his bunk behind you, pulling you close to his chest, hearing him hum a sweet song in your ear as you drift off to another nightmareless sleep.

The next few days pass without incident as you move closer and closer to the target. Each of the boys has taken to passing the time by teaching you what they do best; Freddy spending hours giving you the ins and outs of explosives, Henry teaching you everything you need to know to man the boat if need be, Apple pouring over maps and documents while discussing strategy, and Lassen, the Danish Hammer, teaching you hand to hand combat so you never have to become a victim again.

“You’ve been busy,” Gus sits down beside you, handing you his water, as you catch your breath from Anders newest lesson; how to breakout of a chokehold.

“I like it,” you smile, water splashing down your chin, “I feel like I can take on the world.”

He grins, brushing the water off your chin with his thumb before putting it in his mouth. Your mouth goes dry as he licks his lips with a wide smile. “Not fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he lets out a booming laugh, similar to the first time you heard him back at the Garrison.

“Do you think it’s been easy for me?” he teases, “seeing Lassen’s hands all over you.” His eyes darken, “maybe I should take over the lessons?”

“No,” you shake your head, “then I would learn nothing.”

He scoffs, “I happen to be an excellent teacher.”

“I’m sure,” you replace the top of the water, handing it back to him and standing. You stretch, reaching your hands over your head, his eyes widening as he takes in the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and pants you borrowed from the boys. You grin, leaning over him and putting a hand on his shoulder before whispering in his ear, “I’ve been sleeping with you for ten days, Gus, and I know for a fact you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

You pull back with a grin and his mouth gaps open and closed like a fish before he grins, “tease. I’m a good girl.” Gus stays there watching through the rest of the lesson, encouraging and giving feedback. It’s a unique feeling to be around men that not only respect you but also encourage you to fight and learn when it seems the rest of society want to see you as a housewife with a home full of children and a hot meal on the table.

“Alright, Lassen, you’ve hogged her attention for long enough,” Gus stands brushing off his pants.

“Me?” Anders laughs, “I think you should look in the mirror my friend, see who is really hogging all of her attention.”

Gus ignores him holding out a hand for you, “come along, darling, it’s time you learn how to shoot.” You take his hand and he leads you to the front of the boat where he’s arranged a variety of weapons.

“Now what is your experience with guns?” Gus asks, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.

“Well,” you sigh, “I did end up a prison in a Nazi garrison, so the experience has been less than good.

His smile drops and he nods before turning back to the table and lifting a simple handgun. “Okay, we start small,” he lifts the gun, “this is a colt .45, small but deadly, it can be easily concealed. To fire, you remove the safety, set your stance, aim, and fire.”

“Sounds simple enough,” you nod, reaching a hand out for the gun. “First thing, how do I remove the safety?” He spends the next 15 minutes going every minute detail about the weapon until you feel confident you could repeat it back to him.

“Now, stance is very important when learning how to shoot. Because weapons kick back, and if you’re not standing correctly it will knock you on your butt.” He moves behind you, placing his hands on your hips, and raising them the sides of your body and out towards your arm. His mustache tickles your cheek, and he relaxes against you. “Now, steady on the target,” he gestures to the bottle sitting on the edge of the boat, “take a deep breath.” His body moves with your own, each of you taking a deep breath before he whispers in your ear, “Fire.”

The gun kicks back and he holds you steady, the bottle blasting into pieces and shattering into the sea. “Bullseye,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he lowers the gun and replaces it on the table, his body still pressed to yours. “That’s my girl,” he turns you slowly, your eyes rising to meet his.

He’s close, his lips but a breath away, “Gus,” you whisper, “I…I want.”

“What do you want, darling? Say the word and it’s yours,” he smiles softly, his thumbs tracing patterns on your hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your cheek, then the other before hovering over your lips, “Tell me, darling. What do you want?”

Your heart thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure he can hear it. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife and you can feel the slick between your legs, anticipation for his kiss, his touch building till it’s a raging inferno inside. “I want-”

“BOSS! An urgent message on the wireless!” Freddy shouts and you can’t help the word that slips out of your lips.

“Fuck!” Gus lets out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead before quickly turning towards the stairs.

“Don’t worry darling,” he tosses over his shoulder, “we will continue this conversation later.”

You stand there for a moment composing yourself, the sea doing little to quench the heat from his touch. Never in a million years did you think you’d crave a mans touch like this especially after what happened in that camp. There is a deep seated fear that that experience would tarnish every future encounter, but with Gus, it’s so easy. Everytime he touches you it’s like all the bad fades away, and all that’s left is him.

“I need to get my damn head on straight,” you whisper to the wind before turning to follow him below deck. The boys are standing around the wireless, clenched jaws all around. “What happened?” you ask coming to stand beside Gus and see the message on the notepad. “What does this all mean? Tin of corned beef?”

“It’s code,” he mumbles, wiping a hand on his face, “it means they moved up the sailing date by three days and the port is now filled with more soldiers than any of us were anticipating. Hayzy,” he looks up at the boy, “can you get us there in 12 days?”

“Not the way we’re going,” he shakes his head, “we’ll need to cut through German occupied sea, otherwise we’ll never make it in time.”

“Do what you must,” Gus nods, watching as he retreats upstairs to change course. “Heron says he has a contact who might be able to give us some backup. We need more men if we’re going to live through this.”

“Even then,” Apple sits down across from him, “we can’t take on an entire army.”

“Trust Heron,” Gus leans back in his chair, “he gave us coordinates to meet him. We will make our way there and see what he has to say. This mission,” he licks his lips, “is vital to the British. If we fail, then Britain will fall to German occupation.”

“What are you trying to say?” Apple asks with a groan.

“I’m saying Gentlemen, and Lady,” he nods his head at you, “failure is not an option.”

The boys sit there in silence processing the news before returning to their duties. Gus sits in his chair, his shoulders slumped like they weigh a hundred pounds each. “What can I do?” you stand behind him, massaging his shoulders. He moans, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into your waist.

“I don’t know if we’ll survive this, darling,” he says the words quietly so only you can hear. His voice is heavy with the pressure. “The odds are stacked against us and I’m not a gambling man but if I was, I’m not sure I would bet on us.”

“Don’t say that,” you push his arms out of the way and sit in his lap, his eyes snapping open as he wraps you in his arms and into his chest. “I saw the way you took down that Garrison,” you wrap your arms around his neck and rub the hair at the nape of his neck. “There is not a team alive like yours. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“You put too much faith in me, darling,” he says with a sad smile.

“And you don’t put enough.” His forehead presses to your own and you cradle him to your chest, running your fingers through his hair. “You have to come back alive, Gus. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d move on,” he mumbles into your chest, “you’re beautiful, smart, and sharp as a whip. Men would be falling over their feet to marry you.”

“Well that’s just too damn bad!” he lifts his head at your outburst, you hold onto either side of his face, and smile, “because all I want is you. All I need is you, Gus March-Phillips.”

It’s like two magnets, colliding together, his lips press to yours with a hunger deep inside. His lips are warm and soft and you feel his tongue seek out your own as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like tea and those ginger biscuits he loves so much and you feel yourself getting drunk on the taste of him. “Shit,” he pulls back with a groan, pressing his forehead to your own, “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

He pulls back with a smile, “Perfection.”

The next twelve days pass in a blur. Each day is filled with training, preparation, and endless amounts of kisses. The boys tease every time you sit down for a meal and Gus pulls you into his lap and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t fuck in my bed,” Freddy shouts one night over a meal and you kick him under the table, feeling Gus chuckle behind you. “Ouch! What the hell?! Some damsel in distress she turned out to be!”

“Anders has been teaching me to fight,” you spit back, “I could easily kick your ass.”

“My little lamb has become a tiger!” Anders shouts gleefully.

“She sure is,” Gus remarks with pride, “that’s my girl.” You lean back in his arms as the others playfully spit out insults back and forth like brothers. Gus joins in occasionally and makes you laugh so hard your belly aches.

“All joking aside,” Apple wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, “we arrive at the coordinates tomorrow. Heron should be there with his contact.”

“He’ll be there,” Gus nods, looking at the men around the room. “We have a big day ahead of us men, let’s get some sleep. Apple, you take first watch.”

“Yes, boss,” he nods, going up the stairs.

“Come on, love,” Gus moves you to stand and drags you over to his bunk. The others quietly moving around the room and cleaning up from dinner. He tucks you into his bunk before placing a quick kiss to your lips, “I’m not tired, I’m going to sit up with Apple. I’ll be back later.”

“Okay,” you tug him down for another kiss, “don’t stay up to late.”

“I haven’t married you yet and you’re already nagging me,” he teases pressing another kiss to your lips, “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

You watch his back retreat up the stairs, closing your eyes and snuggling down into his sheets. Suddenly your eyes pop open and you gasp, he said yet.

#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #Gus March Phillips x reader #gus march phillips #Female Reader #Autumn Writes #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill character fanfiction

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taylorman2274 · 3 months

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Reverse Isekai Genshin Shenanigans

Characters: Gorou, Diona, Fischl & Oz

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Gorou and your pet dog have been getting along recently. I wonder why...?

Content Warning: Gorou Hangout Spoilers

Notes: [D/N] = Dog Name; Gorou can read English presumed.

Gorou was spending the day sitting on the couch and reading a book when your pet dog walks up to him. He barks at him to get his attention.

"Ah, [D/N], I haven't seen you in a while. Would you like to come join me?" He asks, patting the open seat beside him.

[D/N] instead woofs at him.

"Hm? What's that?"

[D/N] woofs a little louder.

"You're hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?"

[D/N] whines softly.

"Well that won't do! I'll go ahead and fill up your food bowl and then I'm going to have a talk with [Y/N] about taking proper care of you."

Gorou gently sets the book down to the side and starts to get up when a loud voice halts his movements.

"Do NOT listen to ANYTHING that LIAR is telling you! I'll let you know that I fed them nearly an hour ago!"

You walked through the doorway and approached [D/N] with a leash in hand.

"Also... Guess who's got an appointment with the vet today~?" You ask with a sickingly sweet smile on your face.

[D/N] barks as loud as he can right to your face and growls lowly afterwards. You look to Gorou and can't help but let out a small chuckle at the mixture of shock and horror on his face.

"What's the matter?" You ask with a smirk. "Did they cuss me out or something?"

"...I never knew such profanity existed..." Gorou shuddered.

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Your best friend gives Diona a bad good idea on how to destroy the alcohol industry.

Content Warning: Diona Lore Spoilers

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

You, Diona, and your best friend, [F/N], were currently all sitting at your kitchen table taste testing Diona's latest non-alcoholic concoction. More specifically, only [F/N] was doing the drinking. Diona only wanted to make the drinks and there was no way in hell you were gonna drink anything she makes with the stuff that is put in them, even if you know how good it will taste.

Currently, [F/N] was happily gulping down Diona's latest creation, which only seemed to anger Diona.

"*glug* ... *glug* ... Ah~. This has got to be one of the best drinks I have ever had in my life!" [F/N] proclaims as they slam their empty cup on the table. "What did you say was in this drink, Diona?"

"Grrr... I put a few pieces of cat hair, a whole lemon, a pinecone, and a cockroach I found hiding under the kitchen counter in a blender and then poured all of that into a glass of water." Her hair started to bristle. "Why is it that no matter what disgusting things I put in a drink it's STILL bound to taste delicious?"

You cringed as she listed each ingredient to [F/N] and you expected them to do the same. However, they surprisingly looked deep in thought.

"Hold on... You're saying that ANYTHING you put in the drink is not going to change how good it tastes?"

"YES! Isn't that obvious to y-?"

"So you could put something deadly like poison into the drink and it would be the best tasting death drink you could ever have?" [F/N] interrupted.

"But of course. Even something like poi-" Diona paused. Her ear twitched. Slowly but surely, you could see an evil smile come across her face.

"Did you have to mention that to her?" You sighed.

"Hey, no need to get mad at me. I'm simply supporting her cause." [F/N] smiled with a thumbs up and a wink.

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It seems that Fischl has another side to her that you were previously unaware of.

Content Warnings: Out of Character Fischl, Swearing

Notes: [F/N] = Friend Name

"I'm back! Sorry for being away so long." You called out as you entered your apartment. Surprisingly, there was no response given back. It was quiet.

...Too quiet.

When you first left, you knew that there were two people and a talking raven occupying your apartment. One of which was your best friend, [F/N], who you had told to watch over the others, Fischl and Oz, while you were away. You had also told them to not let them leave the apartment for now, as you could not explain to any strangers why a strange looking girl had a talking raven with her.

You explored your apartment for any signs of life and eventually, you found Fischl and Oz in your bedroom standing next to the closet door. However, you had visited every other room in your apartment and were unable to find [F/N].

"Hey Fischl, do you know where [F/N] is? I couldn't find them anywhere."

Fischl and Oz turned around to look at you.

"Hmph! That mere pitiful human wished to make an enemy out of the Prinzessin. However, my Auge der Verurteilung foresaw their attempt to divert the course of destiny. Thus, I commanded Oz to rid them and their sins from my sight and doom them to waste away in the eternal night."

You raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

Oz decided to speak up next. "I'm afraid Mein Fräulein was challenged by [F/N] to a card game. During the game, Fräulein claimed [F/N] was cheating and thus decided to lock them in your closet.”

Your head whipped toward Fischl. "YOU WHAT?!"

"THEY UNO'ED OUT ON AN ARCHON DAMN WILDCARD! THAT'S WHAT THAT FUCKER GETS!!"

You and Oz had your mouth and beak, respectively, agape by Fischl's outburst. After a couple of seconds, Fischl noticed your shocked expressions and recomposed herself.

"Ahem... Apologies. Mein behavior was very uncouth of a Prinzessin."

You heard banging from inside the closet.

"[Y/N]?! Get me out of here! That witch is crazy!!"

You quickly threw yourself between the closet door and Fischl and prayed for a resolution between the two.

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Diona discovers the history behind the 18th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.

Content Warning: American History

Notes: Reader is presumed to be from the United States. Diona is also presumed to be able to read English.

You and Diona were at your computer looking up American history. Diona was curious about the would and country you lived in so you decided to try your best to teach her all of the important historical events that you remember learning in school.

However, you made sure to hide all mentions of Genshin Impact on your computer before letting Diona come watch. You didn't want her to have an existential crisis.

The two of you were currently scrolling through the list of amendments in the U.S. constitution and Diona suddenly told you to stop.

"Wait stop! See that one! What does that say?" She asked, slowly inching forward to the screen.

"Ummmm... 'The Eighteenth Amendment is also known as the Prohibition Law. This prohibited the manufacture, sale, or transportation of 'intoxicating liquors.' This essentially meant a ban on alcohol bu-'"

Diona pushed you away from the computer and looked at the screen with sparkles in her eyes.

"WHAT?! NO WAY! THAT'S AWESOME! Looks like Mondstadt could learn a thing or two from your country. Hehehe." She snickered.

You carefully moved your way back in front of the computer. "Maybe. It's unfortunate that it didn't last very long."

Diona looked at you with a serious expression. "...What?"

"You didn't let me finish. 'This essentially meant a ban on alcohol BUT this would lead to the Prohibition Era of bootleg alcohol sales and consumption. The unpopular and ineffective amendment was then repealed by the 21st Amendment.' Essentially, it only lasted 14 years."

Diona was stuttering in shock. "H-huh? W-what? 14 YEARS?? Could everyone not see that they were living in PARADISE?!! UGH!" She crossed her arms. "Those drunkards would do anything to get their hands on alcohol. Who's the idiot that repealed that wonderful amendment in the first place??"

You quickly opened a new tab and searched for the answer. "Umm... Franklin D. Roosevelt was President at the time. But it's really Congress who handles the proposals and ratifying amendments."

Diona threw her hands up. "I don't CARE who handles it. That man should not have let such a thing get past him." Diona pauses for a bit, almost like she was thinking about something. "Unless..." She gasps. "Was he a drunkard himself?!"

You opened another tab. "Ummmm... Kind of?"

"GRRR…! OF COURSE HE WAS! Otherwise he wouldn't let such a thing happen! Looks like this country needs someone responsible to man the helm! Move aside!"

You decided to play along with her for now. You weren't worried about her finding anything inappropriate as long as you were watching over her shoulder.

At first, she searched up innocent things such as "How to run for President", "Can someone of Kätzlein bloodline run for President", and "How to become a U.S. citizen".

It was only when she decided to search for "How to mind control an entire country" that you decided to get her off the computer.

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Author Side Notes: These are just some short stories I thought of in my head. Please don’t take them too seriously.

#genshin impact #genshin reverse isekai #reverse isekai #reverse isekai genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #genshin gorou #genshin diona #genshin fischl #platonic #platonic genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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slytherinshua · 10 months

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MISS ME?

genre. fluff. warnings. general uncanny counter stuff. spoilers (obv). pairing. so mun x counter!reader. wc. 983. a/n. requested by anon. this is probably rly shitty cause im questioning my own writing skills everyday atp. but yay im finally writing for uncanny counter!!

You weren’t usually worried about Mun. He was the ace of the team, one of the strongest, smartest, most stable counters you had ever met. He went into every mission determined to catch the evil spirit and he rarely failed.

But usually you were right beside him while he did it. Being there and fighting with him let you make sure he was okay— it allowed you a sense of security knowing that you could protect him if he needed it. But you weren’t on the mission right now and it was starting to really freak you out.

You were prepared to go fight the evil spirit with the rest of the team as soon as Hana had spotted it, but you had sustained serious injuries from the last level 3 evil spirit the day before that even Ms. Chu wasn’t able to completely heal.

You knew your boyfriend only did it out of worry and care and love for you— making you stay behind on the mission, promising that he and the rest of the team would be okay and back by your side soon, encouraging you to rest up and not worry about him. But how could you possibly do that? He was the only thing on your mind from the second he left.

At first you thought of how he must be having some fun kicking some evil spirit’s ass. He probably looked really good while doing it, too. With his sarcastic comments and little celebrations whenever he did something that looked like it should be out of a superhero movie. He was adorable on and off the battlefield.

But as the hours went on and he still wasn’t back, your thoughts became more worried. What if the evil spirit was actually a level 3? What if Hana had seen wrong? What if he was injured or got separated from the team? There were too many variables in these types of fights. Every day, Mun and the team put their lives at stake to catch another evil spirit, and every success came with struggles. It was rewarding and so so worth it, but the risk was immense.

You could see it just by looking at yourself. How you still felt dizzy and lightheaded if you even stood up too quickly. How your body still ached even after Ms. Chu healing all your big injuries - stitching your body back together from its broken, bruised, and bleeding state. You got worried whenever Mun got so much as a scratch on him. What if he came back seriously injured?

On top of the obvious concerns about his safety the longer the night went on, you realized it had been storming for at least 20 minutes. You hoped the fight was taking place somewhere sheltered. The tracksuits were pretty good at keeping you warm, but amidst a heavy storm in the middle of the night, it wouldn’t be enough.

You felt pitiful, sitting there on your bed wrapped in a blanket when all you could do was wait. Worrying as much as you did for Mun was almost laughable. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Ever since Cheongsin, he had only improved, and now could use his psychokinesis to its full potential.

He could beat every single counter on the team in training (except on the occasions were he purposefully let you win). A level 2 shouldn’t be too hard for him, right? Right. You needed to stop worrying so much about your boyfriend. He would come back. He always did.

And it seemed the conclusion to your hours of thinking brought just that. You heard the door to the noodle shop open, the bells jingling and loud sighs echoing through the building. You smiled. From their voices, nobody seemed particularly hurt.

“Unnie’s gang did it again.” Motak could be heard, and you could clearly picture his satisfied grin along with Ms. Chu’s scoff.

“You’re one to celebrate when you almost screwed up the entire mission. So Mun did most of the work.” Hana patted Mun firmly on the back.

“I’ll go check up on Y/n. She’s probably worried about me. Good work, guys.” Mun was quick to dismiss himself from the rest of the group and hurry up the stairs earning teasing comments about how lovesick he was.

“Baby,” He called even before he had opened the door, taking his place right next to you as fast as he could. “Miss me?”

“No, of course not.” You lied, eyes and elated smile giving you away. “You’re all wet.” You mumbled, running a hand through his soaked hair.

“I tried to ask the evil spirit to stop fighting and go to the closest abandoned building, but he didn’t want to.” Mun laughed with a shrug.

“Just a second-” You stood up to grab a towel from the bathroom, holding it over your hands and drying Mun’s hair as if he was a small child.

“I can do it myself, you know?” He complained with his eyes closed.

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Cause you missed me?”

“Maybe just a little?”

“I bet you were thinking about me the entire time I was gone.” He insisted.

“So what if I was?” You asked, giving his hair one last pat with the towel and dropping it on the floor.

“Then I would tell you that I love you and probably kiss you?” He whispered, sneaking his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of his lap smoothly. You flushed, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mun just laughed, cupping one of your cheeks with his hand.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, trying to think of anything other than your boyfriend at the current moment.

“I love you.” As soon as the words flowed out of his mouth, his lips reached yours in a kiss just like he said.

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic

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hannie-dul-set · 5 months

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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table.

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true.

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit.

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—”

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.”

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that?

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger?

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no.

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education.

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!”

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?”

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already.

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders.

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!”

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead.

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios

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konigbabe · 11 months

Text

MELTING

Pairing: Choso Kamo x fem!reader Word count: 1.5k Tags/warnings: no y/n; one bed trope; mutual pining; manga spoilers (Culling Game Arc); smut; soft!choso; p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy Summary: You and Choso stay behind and protect Tengen during the upcoming Culling Games. There’s just one problem – Tengen only provided one bed. Part of my JJKS2 writing week.

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Choso feels speechless.

You are rather taken aback.

“We should take turns,” he suggests first, “it’s better if one of us is awake anyway.”

Standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, with eyes fixated on the empty bed in front of you, you simply nod. It might be better this way. More appropriate, practical. A way to ensure one of you stays vigilant.

But you don’t want that. You don’t want appropriate.

Especially not with this man, lithe frame adorned in a snug-fitting vest, its fabric caressing the curves of his body like a second skin, shape emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders against his slender waist. It’d be wrong to assume that for a few months old Cursed Womb, there's not an undeniable attractiveness about him.

But Christ – having to share a bed with him has to be some sort of punishment. A tempting torture.

You don’t know when things started to take a turn for you. It could be his constant, obvious glances towards you that you catch even from your peripheral vision.

The soft touch when his thumb and index finger lift your chin. Your face yields to his grasp, a vulnerable flower leaning toward the sun's caress, as he tilts it slightly to one side and then to another, checking for injuries with profound tenderness. It’s hard to miss how his eyes, pools of amaranthine depths, catch glimmers of light, reflecting a mesmerizing, twilight hue.

Or the way his hand always finds its place on your shoulder, on the expanse of your back; a pat on your thigh when you’re sitting side by side.

Why, of all the people, Choso had to be the one to volunteer to stay with you and Tengen. Now you’re stuck here alone.

He lightly touches your side. Nudges your shoulder with his elbow, drawing your gaze towards him.

“What you think,” he pulls you back.

Lashes fluttering, lips parted slightly, eyes following the straight bloody line on the bridge of his nose before finally reaching his own–

“Yeah, let’s do it this way.”

–he knows. Many people might have him for nothing more than a curse. He mostly feels like nothing more than a cursed spirit but Choso has eyes. He can see the way your gaze lingers on his face, pupils tracing the planes of his cheeks, how your eyes flicker between his eyes and lips when you talk. And stay on the later longer than deemed necessary.

Even back in Shibuya. Back when he stood opposite you. Your determination, desire to fight a battle you had no chance of winning. Choso fought for his brothers, his fallen family. He had a solid, concrete cause in his eyes. You–you fought for the goodness of your heart; met most of the sorcerers you fought side by side mere months before, being dragged into that whole mess by someone else. You had every right to turn back, to go away. You had no reason to be there. Yet you stayed, fought and almost lost your life just because of the light in yourself.

It compelled him; you enchanted him.

The first few days work well. You barely meet Choso; he sleeps during the nighttime, you take the bed during the day. And even without being by his side at those times, you found out more about him–he has a favorite side of the bed, the dip always prominent after his muscular frame even after he leaves.

In the embrace of loneliness, you reluctantly confess the truth to yourself: you purposefully sleep on the same side of the bed, seeking solace in the lingering remnants of his presence. The mattress still bears the faint imprint of his form, a ghostly echo of his touch.

The fading warmth of his body, once pressed against the sheets, now offers comfort to your restless soul. The air carries the scent of him, a heady concoction of subtle muskiness and something uniquely Choso.

As the time shortens, it’s time to discuss tactics. Create a defense plan for the upcoming fight. The shadow of Kenjaku creeps nearer, and Tengen senses it too. The plan you have crafted, driven by Choso’s unwavering resolve, seems daring and reckless, an audacious gambit with little chance of survival, to put it mildly.

Emotions run high, tangled in a web of desperation.

So you make up your mind.

Tonight.

That’s how you end up in bed. Together; the delicate touch of your hand melding with Choso’s rugged grasp, each finger finding its place amidst the roughness of his calloused palm as he pushes the back of your hand into the solid mattress.

Rising a hand to scrape the back of his neck. Feel the trickle of sweat against the pads of your fingers, pushing his head closer to you. Eyes darkened, the tendrils of pleasure swirling in the hue of his pupils, breath hot against your jawline. Lips grazing the soft contour of your cheek. Hushed moans in your ear, shooting straight into your core; make your pussy grip his cock, suck him in.

You want to get lost in the moment, to savor the ecstasy surging and undulating, gently rippling across your skin each time he bottoms out inside you. His touch is tender, hand sliding down your side, stopping at the curve of your hip.

You cup his face, relishing the wetness of his lips on yours; tongue swirling with yours, passionate and desperate. Choso moves away from your mouth, leaves you whimpering, whining. Kisses trailing down your chin, neck, over the curve of your clavicle with his hand kneading the supple flesh of your breast.

He’s caressing your body as if he’s mapping out the geography of your desire, learning the secrets and contours that his fingers can work in tandem to bring you to the brink. Choso’s lips are supple against your flesh, fingertips tingling with a tantalizing touch–

(We could die tomorrow.

Does it scare you? Death?

It terrifies me.)

–it goes in contrast to his thrusts. Short, sharp. Hard.

Choso shifts down; the strain in your legs feels painfully blissful as he keeps both legs over his shoulders. Opens you up for him. Cock gliding against your gummy walls, head kissing the innermost parts of you.

Your hand glides over his arm, untamed canvas slick with the sheen of sweat. So warm, burning beneath your naked palm. Trace the ripples curving along his bicep, sink your nails into the landscape of his shoulder blade.

Body tensing, melting against yours with each thrust; ankles crossing over the back of his neck, you lock him in. Entrap him within your grasp, feeling the slide of his cock as he pulls back before coming back in.

“Christ–right there,” your head falls backward, eyes fluttering closed, “s–good.”

Choso’s eyes sparkle down at you. Hand cradling your cheek, thumb running over the swell of your lower lip as he continues to drive himself deeper inside. He utters soft endearments, your name spoken in a whisper of desire as his hips drive into you with an unfolding intensity.

He pauses when your back arches, body writhing in immense pleasure that he’s giving you. He pulls back completely, feeling his own high reaching way too soon. He takes a moment, breathing in the sweet smell of your skin, the musky scent of your arousal filling his senses, before slowly pulling back. Taking care to let you feel the full extent of his presence and allowing himself to relish the tightness that grips around his cock as he slides out.

(He has to pull back. Has to stop himself from spilling over. It can’t be over so soon.)

You shudder at how empty you feel without him.; then he jams himself deep again. Wants to make you swallow him whole. Taking your hands in his, fingers curling around your wrists, pushing your arms over your head; drinking in the sight of your blissed face and heavy eyes as he moves.

The blooming of pleasure radiates within you, out from your core, intensified with every plunge of his cock. With each drag. You cry out, calling his name; the sound of your voice urging him on.

His movements become more frantic as his body rebels against the desire for release. He can’t contain himself any longer. Choso shudders inside your walls; abdomen contracting, spasming as he grunts, body tensing. Painting your walls in pearlescent colors, your name a strained breath from his chest.

Your body quivers in pleasure, feeling the warmth of his release deep within. Legs untangling, moving along the contour of his naked body, feeling the muscles contracting underneath your calves before landing on the mattress; still spread apart, to accommodate Choso’s wide body.

Eyes closing, a satisfied smile on your lips, as a blissful wave of pleasure passes through you. Choso’s palm returns to cradle your face; watching you, his breathing still ragged, body trembling with the aftermath of his climax.

He doesn’t even notice the corners of his lips turning upwards.

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jujutsubaby · 4 months

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after hours (part 2)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader, toji fushiguru x afab!reader ☆ summary: you update your friends and they cannot believe what happened between you and toji. but one of you friends, satoru gojo, is acting weirder than usual...could it be? nooo, nooo, it can't...right? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! dirty talk, implied power dynamic, sexual tension ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: sorry for the lack of smut but i swear it'll be worth in the next part 😈 but hope you enjoy the love triangle between toji, gojo, and y/n that's forming! spoiler alert: there miiiight be a potential three way coming soooon ~ ahaha i don't wanna say anything 🤭 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"NO. FUCKIN'. WAY...", shoko gasps, jaw open, as you tell her about what happened last night with toji over a matcha latte with oatmilk. you take a sip, savoring the earthy, bitter beverage, and give shoko a serious look.

you, shoko, and your friends always grab beverages from cafe amanai every morning, serving as a meeting point for everyone's busy lives. usually, it's used to air out mild inconveniences, from poor grades to missing keys, but today, it is being used to dissect what the hell happened between you and toji last night, to your obvious dismay.

"yeah, and now i'm getting dinner with him and megumi and going to his parent teacher conference." you say, looking slightly distraught, as you contemplate the ramifications of hooking up with your extremely attractive neighbor. "was this a bad idea?"

"was what a bad idea?"

you and shoko whip around to find satoru gojo strolling to your table, wearing his signature black round glasses and unruly white hair. he glides down in the seat next to you, literally butting his head into the conversation.

you sigh deeply and slowly sink your head onto the table surface, knowing full well that once satoru gets up to speed, he's never going to shut up about it. "ohhhh satoru, don't make me say it again..." you whine.

"let's wait until suguru comes back from flirting with the barista to tell them. i don't wanna update them twice." shoko kindly offers, patting your head and softly running her fingers through your scalp.

your head shoots up the minute your hear about suguru flirting. according to satoru, suguru never drank coffee until the day riko complimented his bangs, and ever since then, suguru would do everything in his power to stop by cafe amanai and order a latte. in the process, you, shoko, and gojo got unbearably perplexed at the idea of the suguru geto, the hoity-toity moral compass of the group, having a crush, on not just anyone, but the cafe owner, and everyone's favorite barista: the gorgeous, raven-haired riko amanai. you all really try to be subtle, everyone craning their necks in unnatural directions, trying to decipher what embarrassingly awful one-liner suguru was going to say to riko instead of just asking her out.

"can you guys not embarrass me for just one day at this place? just one. it's all i'm asking for." suguru says sorely, popping out from the opposite direction of where you all were staring, startling everyone into mumbled apologies ("i wasn't even looking", "had to stretch my neck after benching 300", "i don't even care about you and riko").

"anyway, now tell us...what's the bad idea?" gojo prods, grinning at the excitement of restarting the gossip session. oh my god, why is he so nosy?

"i mean, okay, it's complicated so don't judge me and i really don't know how it happened but-" you start, before shoko cuts you off.

"y/n fucked our hot neighbor, toji. remember him? the one i was telling you about that probably is a gigolo-"

"shoko, he is NOT a gigolo! stop saying that about him!" you say irately. "he probably has...some respectable job that...is classified or...something", you defend, trying your hardest to defend toji in front of your friends. why were you so keen on defending this guy after one random hookup?

"the one who's son you BABYSIT for?!" suguru yells incredulously a bit too loudly, that results in your shooting daggers at him. "y/n, you have to know this is some fucked up power dynamic thing, right? he's paying you to babysit his son. there's no way what you're doing will end well." suguru chastises, scrunching his eyebrows in genuine concern.

"so about that..." you start, realizing just now how idiotic you're about to sound admitting that he has not paid you for the past week and decide to pivot. "it's just babysitting, suguru, okay? chill, it's not that serious."

"also, he hasn't paid her at all last week." shoko states nonchalantly. you give her a crestfallen look, wishing she had said quite literally anything but that.

satoru, who had been suspiciously silent up until now, roars in laughter hearing this, while suguru groans. "wait hold on. you're telling me people pay him to be a gigolo but you're giving him that pussy for free?" satoru says in between breaths, clearly finding your predicament more than amusing.

"i'm going to kill you guys." you say, rubbing your temples, already trying to remedy the headache at bay.

"poor y/n," shoko teases, "she's not ready to be a step-mom." she chuckles as you narrow your eyes at her. "kidding!" she smiles, with her hands up, feigning any remorse. everyone, including youself, start laughing lightly at the situation you're in, and you notice shoko's eyes widen with excitement and warmth as she sees utahime walk into cafe amanai. "utahime!" she waves, catching utahime's attention. utahime darts over to your table and plops next to shoko, and do something that shocks satoru and suguru to their core. aww, look, they're kissing! oh wait no, they're fully making out. oh, they should get a room.

"excuse me?!" gojo, who is so baffled by the sight in front of him that his sungalsses are completely off, says.

shoko and utahime break out of their short kiss, and utahime narrows her eyes at satoru as if he was a pest (you have to admit, he sometimes is), seemingly annoyed by his intrusion. "oh umm, this is utahime, as you guys know. um, she and i are dating. that's all." shoko taciturnly says. "anyway, we have to go, now." she turns to you. "i'll see you at home and you better tell us everything." you laugh and nod, standing up to give utahime a quick hug before they left.

you turn around to two stunned faces, as you explain to them that shoko and utahime had been dating for over a month now, and that they did not tell either of them because, well, they were both a bit obnoxious, especially together.

"just because you're right doesn't mean i'm any less shocked!" suguru says, eyes still wide and processing the fact that one of his best friends was dating someone and he had no clue. "okay, i actually don't even have time to process this right now. i have to make copies for the class i'm TA-ing for." suguru says, as he quickly throws his untouched cup of coffee into the trash and speeds out. "see ya." he waves before he speeds out of the cafe.

you sigh tiredly, knowing that whenever you're alone with satoru, things get...a bit weird. you guys are friends, of course, but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the tension in the air abruptly change slightly when it was just you two. there were plenty of times when you went over to satoru's and played video games or drank beers like the old school friends you were, but it would always end veeery touchy feely (like the time you fell asleep with your head on his lap or that one time he said it would be a good idea to cuddle "for warmth" because the heat was broken).

but this was just because you guys were like, super super good friends, though...right? in any case, you knew for a fact you and satoru were not into each other because you both fooled around with other people, so case closed.

"so...how was it?" satoru asks, with a stupid grin on his face. you can sense he's about egg you on about something you did not want to talk about, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"how was what?" you say, shifting in your seat slightly and playing with your fingers. you take a sip of your lukewarm matcha as you turn to look at satoru.

"how was the sex with toji?" satoru clarifies. you almost choke on your matcha, but quickly regain your composure.

"wouldn't you like to know, lover boy." you say, slightly annoyed and yet bemused why satoru would even ask that question. ugh, why does he even care? can't he let this go? he was the one making fun of you the most about this anyway!

"woah, okay sorry for trying to make sure you at least had fun before you made a bad decision with some broke dude who doesn't have a real job." satoru says, raising his hands defeat and putting his sunglasses back, obscuring his bright blue eyes that always made you wish you could stare at them forever. wait, what?

"he allegedly doesn't have a job, okay. and also, being a gigolo, allegedly, is still a job." you say, once again baffling yourself as to why you're feeling so defensive of toji, especially more so in front of satoru. why is he being so weird about this? you've told him about guys you've slept with before and he barely even cared.

"what are we? in court?" he snorts, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

"why do you care?" you accuse, finishing up the last sips of your matcha before setting the cup down and anxiously playing with your fingers.

"i don't care...i just..." satoru trails off, as if thinking about what he wants to say next carefully. "i just wanna make sure he's treating you well, that's all."

"well, if you must know, we didn't have sex." you respond, your heart beating a bit faster as you're borderline talking about raunchy activities in public.

"whadcha guys do?," satoru asks shamelessly.

at this point, you're so over satoru's bullshit. "he ate me out okay! what other personal stuff do you want to know about me? how would you feel if i asked you how many times a day you jerk off, huh? not so amusing now is it?!"

"did you cum?" he asks. his smile is beaming and he's holding back a chuckle, as he enjoys seeing you getting all riled up because of him. he knows he's pushing your buttons, but he just can't stop. it's too fun. and you look too cute when you're angry at him.

"you're so fucking unbelievable!" you spit, as you abruptly get up and grab you empty cup of matcha and your bag, heading towards the exit. entering the bustling city, you see satoru catching up to you in your peripheral and walk even faster to the crosswalk, but not fast enough. satoru catches up from behind easily and places his hands on your shoulder, as you whip around and give him a death glare.

"what do you want?!" you ask irately.

"umm...i'm your ride to class, remember?" satoru says sheepishly, flashing you a grin.

could this get any worse? you roll your eyes. he is correct, and technically you could take the bus but it'll make you too late for your class, and walking is just out of the question. you sigh in annoyance. "where's your car?"

the walk to satoru's porche is short, but within that time, you both manage to make up as you always do. such is the waves your guys' relationship rides: daunting when it happens, but calm once the storm passes over. by the time you're at satoru's car, you both are laughing hysterically.

"fuck off! no way suguru said that to riko!" you exclaim, responding to satoru telling you that suguru responded to riko's "good morning" with the biography of his barber who cuts his bangs.

"his ass folds so easily when it comes to his bangs," satoru says as he turns on the ignition and starts driving. satoru thinks about the first time he met suguru and how they got into a minor argument because his bangs were the first thing satoru noticed. satoru's mind wanders, and he thinks about the first thing he noticed about you: your smile and laughter. the way you tuck your hair behind your ears whenever you get anxious, the way you play with the ends of your hair when you're flirting and you think you're being subtle, the way your nose scrunches when you're concentrating deeply, and especially the way you, without fail, always fall asleep leaning against him during movie nights.

"hey, y/n," satoru starts softly, "you busy tonight? thinkin' we study for our final next week and maybe watch a movie. have you watched saltburn yet?"

"ohmygod i haven't but i really want to!" you say excitedly, thinking about how shoko has been begging you to watch that movie since it came out. wait, parent teacher night. you frown. "oh wait actually, i'm not free tonight, but let's do tomorrow?" you offer sweetly, praying satoru for once is not nosy enough to ask what you're doing instead tonight.

"whatcha doing instead tonight?" he asks without skipping a beat.

"...i'm babysitting tonight." it's not use lying at this point, but you know it's embarrassing to say you're getting dinner with his son and going to a parent teacher conference.

"oh right, the thing you do for free now", satoru says, rolling his eyes. he could egg you on and press your buttons again. he hasn't decided if he will again just yet.

you decide to change the subject, not wanting to start yet another argument with him. "anyway, you wanna head to the barcade tomorrow before the theater to get drinks and hang? i think shoko and utahime are coming and they said something about inviting suguru, too" you ask, knowing full well what his answer will be.

"how could you fucking ask me that? how could you ask me if i want to go to the only barcade in this city after what fucking happened to me the last time i went there?!" he accuses you. you sense the irateness of his voice, knowing full well this is how he gets whenever you bring up the local barcade with him.

basically, earlier this summer, the four of you went to the flashing new barcade that opened downtown, thinking you would all have a couple drinks and play some arcade games. according to satoru -- you and shoko were, at the time, dry heaving in the bathroom from one too many AMFs (satoru's idea) -- some guy came in with his kid (you still didn't really believe this part because how was a kid allowed in a bar?) and not only "bullied satoru" (satoru's words), but also made off with his drink and tickets. you still aren't really sure what the big deal is, but you find it funny, nontheless, seeing satoru still get sour about that barcade.

"geez, sorry, i didn't know you were still upset about it." you say, raising your hands and eyebrows in defeat.

"i literally talk about it once a day in the group chat. i was finally gonna get you that jigglypuff plushie you always wanted with those tickets!" satoru confesses, and you almost feel a bit bad for him. almost.

"well, you can try again tomorrow night then", you wink, before satoru pulls up in front of the building where your class is. you hear satoru humph in defeat, and you know you'll see him tomorrow night at the barcade. you thank satoru for the ride, but right before you close the door, he calls out your name.

"hey y/n also, sorry 'bout earlier at the cafe.", he says (he doesn't sound sorry at all, you think. this is definitely a ruse to say something stupid), "but i needed to tell you something before you left. the answer is two but if i'm bored, probably three."

you stare at him blankly. what was he on about? "what?" you say, perplexed.

"it's how many times i jerk off in a day. just thought i should let you know since you asked," he says, with a cheeky smile on his face. cue something stupid! bingo!

"bye satoru." you say immediately, closing the door of his porch and crossing the street. god, satoru was one of the most annoying people you knew. why does your face feel so hot?

you try really hard not to think about what satoru just said, knowing he was just being his usual cheeky self. satoru touches himself twice a day? when does he do it? in the morning? who does he think of? does he think of you? what the fuck, y/n -- think about something else? remember you came all over toji's face?

woah, okay. that was a lot, even for you. you have no idea where that thought came from, and you're pretending like it never happened. you're pretending like your panties aren't getting damp thinking about satoru's flushed face and his large fingers reaching down and grasping his hard, veiny -

your thoughts are interrupted by a text on your phone:

toji: see ya soon, pumpkin. wear somethin' nice for me, yeah? ;)

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capswarmedals · 5 months

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BBC GHOSTS: DEEP DIVE

"You're a bloody fool, James!" - Ben Willbond, Inside Ghosts: A Christmas Gift.

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR CHRISTMAS EPISODE AND SEASON 5. BE WARNED.

Okay, just before we start, I WILL be referring to BOTH James and The Captain. Wait and see, your poor little dumplings.

We all know The Captain. Brave, stern, always has a stiff upper lip and of course, most obviously, he's an ABBA loving star. Joking (not really though)!! The most obvious part is that he is gay, but he hides it deep down inside himself. You'd have to kill him to find out or well, you know what I mean (/ref). That part deep down inside himself is James. James. The real person, the person under the mask, the villain, the mastermind of it all. Except that... James isn't really anything like The Captain. James is not brave, not stern, never has a stiff upper lift, but he's still an ABBA fan and gay. Incredibly, incredibly gay.

We know that he had a very, VERY strong crush on Havers (Anthony as I will be referring to) as evident in the Cricket Report in the Button House Archives and in Redding Weddy/Carpe Diem. Throughout the series, we see James fall for men. Mike ("Yes, he'd make a very fine soldier."), Adam, the director ("Yes, though I might just... Check."), Pat (even though it's not as obvious, but it's certainly there).

Many people, including myself, head canon James/The Captain to be autistic, and I can very much add some reason and proof to these reasons.

1. A very strict routine. This man will NOT let go of routine, and it is clear in 4x02 (Speak As Ye Chooses) where he states: "It's all very well saying 'At ease', but what do you do for the rest of the day?" and visible expression of shock and anger to finding out that a club was cancelled. As we come to the end of episode, where we see the man casually without his jacket on, he says "We've got forever" before immediately re-settling himself into his strict routine when being reminded of Film Club. But of course, this could be either that James is attracted to Captain America or is just reminded of his strict routine. This links into another point about change. In 3x05 (Something To Share?), this silly man agrees with Pat about how it is frightfully important to have an extremely strict routine. DON'T get me started on his almost coming out. (I will talk about this.)

2. Hyperfixations. This man has a hyperfixation/special interest in tanks, birds and basically anything remotely military related. He made a club solely dedicated FOR birds. He values his hyperfixations over secrets ("This is outrageous, I'll simply have to tell Fanny-" "No more war documentaries, then." "Your secret is safe with me, she'll have to kill me first- Well- You know what I mean."). 1x02, watching Hitler's Secret Superweapons "It's Christmas! I mean, it's Christmas Morning!" and when Mike turns it off... "What the bally heck do you think you are doing? Where the bally hell are the tanks?" "If you were dead, I would thrash your bottom, sir!". As like other autistic people, such as myself, taking away our hyperfixations isn't a good thing. We don't like that.

3. Masking/easily overwhelmed. (Basically what this deep dive is about). James is the true individual. The Captain is his mask, his shell. And he's been living in it for far too long now. He does not like change, and hates loud noises. This is clear when a club is cancelled in 4x02, and when he realizes the Queen's speech is televised in 2x07. He stress stims by using his swagger stick (Or Anthony's) and twirling it around in his fingers, he bounces a lot, he hums a lot, and whenever he matches about the place, he swings his arms depending on what arm the swagger stick is under (usually the right), and yes, I know that military marching is very exaggerating on the arms, but STILL, it's an output of energy that he does CONSTANTLY. I don't think I've seen anybody talk about the fact he hums. He does it SO MUCH.

4. Tone. Because of his ridiculous amount of gayness inside of him, this man cannot always understand straight jokes. 5x04, where they play Blankety Blank and he does not understand the word "saucy" (I mean, it is late 20th century/early 21st century slang...) and does not approve of the meaning. He gets jokes late, but that's alright because I do too.

ANYWAYS. Back to his pining.

In the first GIF, you see James check Adam out. This also happens in another scene with the quote "Do you find yourself to be distracted?" where he takes the moment to check Adam out yet again. In this second GIF, you see James slightly creep out when he realizes that he's openly saying he'll miss a man, with that look down, almost ashamed of himself.

But why does he fall for these men of order? Because it reminds him of Anthony, not because they're bossing everyone about - it's as if they're doing the bossing about for him, so he can relax and be himself. During Redding Weddy, we see Anthony order the unit around whilst James is looking outside the window (suppressing stims, but bouncing slightly on his feet) trying to spot Germans. I could see why James fell for Anthony. Despite everyone else, Anthony does not see these stims as annoying or his remarks to be unfunny. We see him SMILE when James makes a joke.

As we know, their love for each other was mutual.

He knew.

Anthony smiles after saying "James" and saying "I know". Why? He knew he was dying, he knew that James loved him, he knew why James was here. He wanted to be by James' side as he died to comfort him. To just be together, maybe once. Maybe twice. We don't know if they've held hands, kissed, but still. This is a very significant moment.

Additionally, Anthony's knowledge of James' intense crush is during their talk in James' office in Redding Weddy as it starts to reach a conclusion. Anthony subtly hints to the fact that if James should say anything, the moment is now ("Well, if that's all?").

He raises his eyebrow slightly, communicating to James that he is eager to hear what he really says, and that it's okay to be them because they're alone together. But no. The Captain completely hides James away. Anthony understands, he always has. The Captain probably hid James away because of Anthony's reaction to "I shall miss you, Havers." (his smile drops).

But... "I say, Havers?"

The way Anthony turns around. SO QUICK.

His smile. It's so ridiculously warm. But he knows because he saw that hesitancy, he saw James' sad expression. James is bally well sad that Anthony is leaving!!

Masking is clearly shown in this conversation. The Captain is preventing James from speaking the truth. And just like how he buried the limpet mine, he too, buried his feelings. And it became a ticking time bomb to Carpe Diem, where that emotional bomb finally explodes.

He leaves it to the last second. Literally. Let me show you proof.

Ben is absolutely AMAZING at micro-expressions, one of the many reasons I love to delve into The Captain so much. Carpe Diem (5x05) is an excellent example of some of the best James scenes.

Right here, what I am personally reading is that James is attempting to unmask, or is in the process of doing so. He deciding whether he should tell his story or not. This frame is important as it comes just after the quote "When I died, I never got to be surrounded by the people I loved." Blatant foreshadowing here because well, it shows that James loved Anthony and still does, despite it being 83 years since Anthony left of that year, he still holds him very dear to his heart. Of course, he has Anthony's swagger stick, which I love because he's always been there with James to help him out through moments. I love that and I love everything about that. How I ADORE Simon Hynd's directing here of the camera position, openly hinting to the fact that James died with Anthony next to him. God, everyone in that show is a mastermind!!

I also think that he is remembering here. Perhaps remembering the good memories? That Sunday afternoon stroll, or that certain Cricket Report? He's trying desperately to remember Anthony so he doesn't forget him when he moves on. For all he knows, he doesn't even know if Anthony thinks of him. All he knows is that he knew, and is most probably dead. He doesn't know what's beyond the veil. He doesn't know if he'll see Anthony. It's worth it.

This "desperate searching" facial expression is the same as the expression he had when glancing at the gate a few scenes prior to this, eyebrows furrowed and mouths slightly agape. It cuts to the gate, where we know, that in Redding Weddy, Havers walked out of. Anthony. Yet again, he's remembering him. James is obsessed with the memory of Anthony, the good times they had yet the good times they never were really good as laws about homosexuality were extremely strict. You could even say he is clingy.

Another thing is that, The Captain is one of the most favourite characters and people have been demanding to see how he died for ages! Why is it near the end of the last season? Well. I may have an idea to why it is in the last season.

James leaves things until the last second, he leaves the real explanation to things until it's too late. I saw someone on tiktok quote that James is as pretty as poppies because his love sprouts up in the wrong times and wrong places, which I think is amazing. I personally believe that his death was purposely the last one because you needed to see that he's more than just a stern WW2 CO with no feelings. He's an anxious man who's terrified of the real world so decides to seclude himself in a time and place where he was loved. World War 2. 1940. When Anthony loved him. We needed to see this inner secluded character within him to make the death sadder, which is what Ben likes, the silly man.

This also explains why he says "Is it? Is it, Alison?" during Redding Weddy because, well, with his mindset and attitude, he doesn't believe the war is over. He wasn't very good at keeping a unit of alive people under control, but perhaps he could try at keeping a whole bunch of dead people under control to keep himself busy from accepting the fact that Anthony is gone and he should emotionally move on.

In 4x04 (Gone Gone), the episode where Mary moves on, we see that James' coping mechanism is to keep himself busy. Keep himself busy so he doesn't have to focus on his feelings, but when he's given the time to pause and process it... He completely breaks down. Imagine that with Anthony when he left for North Africa.

But why does he like Pat?

Well. It isn't canon. But, the most recent Christmas special definitely hints at it. Pat introduced James to the amazing thing of baby talking, attempting to teach him just as Mia is put to bed. But once again The Captain's hard shell is back again and gives him a monotone voice and tone, rather making him seem like a robot. But at the end of the episode. He learned, and the glance he takes towards Pat is "Did I do it?" and Pat gives him a warm smile and a subtle nod. HUSBANDS I TELL YOU!

The Woodworm Men (3x03): Pat outbests The Captain with camping, yet they are still both very keen. The Captain trudged back though!! In this episode, James is awarded the teamwork badge from Pat, and when you see the scene, you can tell that he is smitten and in love. Because, now rewatching that scene with the context of his death, he must've been the happiest he had been in a while to achieve and properly earn a badge. James, I think, personally likes Pat because he still has all the leading roles (being a scout leader) and that reminds him a lot of Anthony hence why we see them working together in a lot of episodes (2x06, 2x02, etc). It all leads back to Anthony. Who knows what would've happened if they didn't meet.

I also think that Getting Out (1x06) is a good episode that represents self growth as well as debating with the issue of being mocked, as James is mocked in the episode.

This is him overhearing the conversation. Confusion. Anger. This episode is where James learns that not everybody will adapt themselves for him, not everybody will accept the way he acts. It's pretty clear that he cannot control this mindset he has, it was probably drilled into him, the poor soul. The way he brings himself back into the group is through a secret weapon (Kitty, because she's the most likeable and their relationship is mwah).

This episode is also important because of the scene in the library with James and Kitty.

"What matters more? Keeping Alison here, or letting her be happy?"

Now imagine that question but Anthony. James has sacrificed his life and soul towards Anthony, and even has a piece of him with him. This man is obsessed with Anthony. Crazily in love. He can't control his feelings for people. It just... Happens.

After Carpe Diem, it took me only a fraction of a second to see how comfortable he was. He was free to love who he wanted! I was stimming so crazily when the last scene of Season 5 (disregarding the Christmas special) was him being gay. Fanny comforted him after he came out, and every one supported him. He feels safe now.

The mirror and the draw in the intro.

Personally, I believe that the mirror represents the fact that his medals are the right way, meaning that the man in the mirror is The Captain and the man looking at his reflection is James. He's looking what he could've been. A hero. Yet now that he's come to terms with himself, James knows that he can be himself now. Free of judgement. Free of secluding himself away. I believe that the drawer represents him ever searching for more memories to grasp onto, more things about Anthony to remember. I also think it represents the fact that there is something inside of him that is worth looking for, and that thing deserves to be looked for and looked after. The draw is pulled out as far as it can go, so this could point to the fact that there is something buried within the house that needs to be found and given back to him. Could be the limpet mine. Or perhaps that William letter truly was a love letter.

OVERALL:

James is a different man to The Captain. The Captain is merely a costume or a nickname James wears knowing full well of the man he is underneath those perceived images of him. James is a coward. James is obsessed with Anthony. His heart has bled so much he has to rely on the small amount of attention from someone so he can carve it out and then offer it to those people who attention has been wasted on him. Ben is an amazing actor and writer who threads things together so subtly and sneakily it's insane. James won't let go of the military mindset, just incase he meets Anthony when he moves on. He thinks that no one will fall in love with the present him so he tries his best to act like his old self. Ben is right. You certainly are a fool, James. But oh, how I love your character.

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