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#so i decided to sketch out what i would have tried to make it look like if i had had the right idea

zecoritheweirdone · 4 months

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first art post of the new year!!! granted, i don't share my art here that much anyway, but– shhh.

hehehehhhooo,, here's something i've been working on for 'bout a month,, albeit not consecutively– took a few,, very very long breaks in between working on this,, but i managed to finish it in the end! am i satisfied with it? .......ehhhh? not completely, but if this took any longer, it might not have seen the light of day, so like. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

anyway,, made a little poster for my favorite fic, tommyinnit's services for villains, vigilantes, and various other vagabonds, by @scorpionoesit!!! it's really really good,,, and i've always wanted to make more art for it,, so i decided– poster! at least,, that's what it's mean to resemble,,, dkdmkdmdkd.

i will freely admit,, i'm... not the biggest fan of the fan-made logo i tried to design for it,, feels a bit boring, and could definitely have used a bit more pizazz, something to make feel more like the fic itself(what does that mean? you figure that out),,,, but– again, steam was running low,, dkdnksjs. graphic design is my passion. i do also have other complaints, but i'm afraid i already punched my one-use self-critique card,, oh well,,, dkdnkxjdkd.

regardless,, even with the flaws only i can really see,, this still turned out pretty okay!! hope you enjoy it, mx. scorpio and mx. alibi!!! and i hope everyone else has a wonderful new year!!!!

#my art #dream smp #tommyinnit fanart #tommyinnit #i don't wanna try tagging the rest of them so i'm just not gonna <3 #anyway wrow i wonder who the skull guy and mysterious shadowy figure are....... could be anyone.#i was gonna try and fit in some sort of hero so i could check all the dots of everyone tommy's help #specifically either dr**m (derogatory) or phil #(was mostly leaning towards phil)#but 1) couldn't figure out a way to make it look good with the current set up #my first thought was to try moving the current characters around a bit; but then it would feel too crowded #my second thought was to have them appear from the smoke; somehow? a smoky figure?#but that only really looked good in sketch form and i didn't have the patience to figure that out properly #and 2) no clue what their designs look like. don't even know what their powers are; yet!#was also wanting to fit fundy in but it didn't work for the first reason #fun rapid fire character design facts: niki has a littol sharp tooth 'cause of the joker stuff!#i originally gave tubbo green eyes;; but i decided blue-green looked cooler #tech– [cough] i mean;; *orion's* cloak has a faint lil orion pattern on can barely see it but it's there i assure you !!!#(i tried my best for his design but i am. not the greatest at outfits;; especially hero/villain ones)#tommy has long hair bc it's *MY* art and *I* say he gets long hair. this definitely isn't canon to vagabonds i just like to do this #<- also why michael and tommy have freckles #tommy has a bit of green in his design(through the patch) due to a theory of mine :D #might have over-rendered the hair a bit but. fuck you i like it #anyway i think that's all i have to say about it? if you've actually read all these tags;;; have a cookie -> 🍪#pretend it's a peanut butter cookie #actually. no pretend it's both. you get two cookies. as a treat.#anyway have a good rest-of-your-day !!!!!!

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impactedfates · 6 months

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Love In Different Shapes - Various HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: Your lover loves to show that they love you, however some of their methods to do so, aren't something you'd expect - i.e HSR Boys and their love languages (but it's not your typical love language)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Welt, Luka, Sampo, Gepard, Loucha + bonus character

★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Crack (?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Just had random thoughts about HSR characters love language and decided to write about what theirs is in my opinion - just not your typical ones. // Not proof read - we die like Himeko // There's a HSR Girl version as well! Right here.

Dan Heng shows his love unintentionally by staring at you. Just full on staring. I mean, I'm sure most of us agree that Dan Heng is a man of few words, but I feel like you could be getting up to get water and you'll come back to Dan Heng staring at you. You might think 'oh, he wants me back in bed'

no.

He's just staring very lovingly at you, as creepy as it is. He wants to make sure he sees you. He can't explain why it gives him comfort to just look at you or why he decides to show that he cares about you this way. But he does! It's his way of saying he cares, and although not many may see it as him showing his love to you. Both you and him know what it means when he decides to look at you for more then 5 minutes without talking.

Somehow, Jing Yuans love language consists of making sure you aren't able to do your work. Somehow his love language is doing everything in his power to get you to pay attention to him.

You know those videos of cats knocking over a cup? That's him, and all he wants is your attention. He loves seeing what ways make you look at him, even for a split second. Would it be a surprise kiss? Softly rubbing your arm up and down? Knocking over an expensive vase??

He wants to find everyway to ensure you look at him with those pretty eyes, and as confusing as this love language may be to others. He truly does just enjoy messing with you.

Biting. I will not elaborate (Well I am but-)

Blade just bites you. Not harshly, just nibbles. You could just be doing some work, and your neck or shoulder are exposed, he'd just come up to you and just.

Nom.

You have so many bite makes because of him, but he doesn't care. He's at work often and as much as I'm sure he loves kissing you. He loves biting you playfully just as much. The amount of bite marks around your body that keeps multiplying is just a show of his love to you.

Welt shows his love by drawing you. He loves sketching you doing whatever and showing you. He enjoys looking at your face and capturing every detail with a stroke of a pencil. He probably has a sketch book dedicated to drawings of you, but most are ripped out as you stick it on your wall.

If you offered to model for Welt he'd be more then happy and ensures to be extra careful - not like he wasn't before but he wants to capture every single detail there is that he sees. And honestly? If you were to draw your own drawing of him then he'd be so happy. It's stuck on his wall, it's his wallpaper and it'll even by his profile picture for awhile.

Luka shows off. He's one of the guys that's like

"This is for you babe!"

But he fails, miserably even. He's usual so good at showing off, but when he tries to show off to you to show you how much he absolutely adores you he fails.

Every.

Single.

T i m e.

It's okay though, you get the gesture. You understand what he's trying to do, even after the countless fails. He wants to be successful even once as he feels if he continues failing you won't love him anymore.

You do though, you understand. And honestly? It's kinda cute how hard he tries trying to score a basket just to show you he loves you.

Reverse scamming (credits to my friend for this idea :D)

Sampo loves scamming others, but you? You're no exception sadly. On the other hand, how he scams you isn't what you'd think. He'd maybe scam you until getting what YOU want. Now what HE wants. Sometimes he may even scam you to get just a simple kiss or a hug.

You try to tell him if he wants a kiss or a hug he can just ask, but he finds it more fun this way. And you may even try to convince him to stop "scamming" you into getting the things you want, but he also refuses.

We all know Gepard is trying to garden and failing (I think) right? So what does everyone think of getting a half wilted flower from this man :D

He tries I swear, he just cannot do it correctly. You may even just get a tomato as an anniversary gift as he just couldn't take care of the flowers he was trying to grow for you. Bro may be more upset with being unable to grow you the best flower then he is about not catching Sampo.

He keeps trying and failing but, he still gives it to you in hopes you'll accept it! You will right? Even if he's given you a potato that's about to go bad?

Loucha can and will pat your head to show how much he loves you. As a merchant and a doctor, he doesn't necessarily have the time to sit down and relax, and even so. He doesn't seem like the type to want to. However he doesn't want his partner to feel neglected either, so to sure that he does love you so you don't forget. He pats your head with a small smile.

It doesn't even matter if your taller then him, he'll find a way to pat your head, whether it be to punch you in the stomach so you can bend over, pull you down by your collar or even just climbing onto his coffin to just pat your head a few times. He will pat that head of yours so you're reminded he still loves you despite his schedule.

Dr Ratio definitely info dumps to show his love. I don't even know much about this man yet but I know for a fact that he'd be casually talking about the history of something or in general just anything he knows whilst you two are eating.

He'd say something that's so jaw-dropping and continue eating and I love him for that. He seems sweet honestly, and if you want to info dump about anything you like? He listens with such intent, asks questions and remembers every word. I love him so much (I know he isn't out yet but-)

Hehehe. I spent a good bit rambling with my friend about certain HSR characters "unusual" love language and decided to write one! It's not proof read as most of the time, my rambles aren't proof read. But as always, if I messed some spelling or grammar up. Inform me and I'll fix it :D

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idolomantises · 10 months

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when designing characters, whats ur thought process behind them?

My first thought is personality, then occupation. Then try to incorporate that into the design. I’ll use my Beelzebub redesign for example. (Pulled this from insta because I don’t have the file on hand):

She’s described as a party girl and an animal trainer, so I tried to mash the two designs together. The typical uniform with fluffy boots and a uniform that is pulled back rather than around her body

Because she’s described as an animal trainer and very close to the hellhounds, I implemented animal elements while still keeping the bee design. A long tail to both emulate an animal’s tail and a whip (hence why it’s so skinny), She has tiger stripes instead of regular bee stripes to simulate animal patterns, 4 limbs instead of 6 when relaxed (like the hellhounds), and her wings function as a big cape when in its relaxed mode.

Big white fluff to emphasize the performer element, but also because Bees are very fluffy themselves. I wanted her to look like a Bee (even gave her a thorax in some very rough sketches), but decided not to go all the way, keep that animal/demon aesthetic to her.

Skull in the back as a badass design but also because the original Beelzebub fly had skulls on his wings. He was also beefy as hell as a human which is why (gestures to the left side).

Spiral eyes because… well tbh that was just pulled from my own lore. Spiral eyes represent power in Monsters in Girls, also they look cool.

Her hair turns into fire in her “big” mode because fire looks aggressive and powerful compared to the relaxed lava lamp vibe.

Her hair changes colors depending on emotions, to emulate those lava lamps that change colors

Shes also taller than Vortex because well. I mean come on she’s a female bug. She gotta be taller than the male.

I actually wanted to do an animal hybrid alt where she’d be a lion with lava hear, but making her half look would have made me alter the design way more than I had time for, because I still wanted to make it cohesive.

I also tend to do some sketches to really figure out how I want a character to look. Some roughs for example while planning out the design:

(I wasn’t kidding when I said I really enjoyed doing this)

#my art #helluva boss #helluva boss redesign #ask quill

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junosswans · 5 months

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FMA sketches by Ace Attorney's character designer, Iwamoto Tatsuro

For the past week, Iwamoto-san has been posting sketches of FMA characters on his twitter as a part of his daily sketching challenge and they are absolutely BEAUTIFUL.

I really want to share his art over here and also translate his posts for you all because I think his commentaries are quite insightful for people who are interested in character design!

[Those who know their AA lore would recognize him as who voiced Edgeworth (Mitsurugi) in the games :3]

Anyways, below are his FMA sketches he's shared on twitter so far! (Contains: Ed, Hughes, Kimblee, Mustang, Breda) You can click on the dates to see their original post. I will add to this post if he shares any more sketches, it seems that he has been on an FMA roll xD

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25/11/2023

If you draw your favourite things out you will know them better! So, this is Edward Elric from #FullmetalAlchemist.

Even if you have decided on the pose you want to draw, it is better to sketch out these three first:

the moment before the pose is struck

the pose itself

the moment after the pose is struck

then decide which image works better for your art. I learned this from a really great senior of mine, and it is very solid advice.

###

29/11/2023 (Translator's note: I decided to move this one to the top because it is my favourite. No I don't accept criticism.)

I have been drawing Ed's automail again.

I like it when the machine part has a distinctly different silhouette compared to the human body, so I added some original ideas to the design.

What design should I draw next? Perhaps I should draw the military uniform?

# (combined two posts because they’re the progression of the same piece.) #

26/11/2023

Again, it is the time of "drawing your favourite things to know them better!"

It feels so good to draw such great characters...

27/11/2023

My Photoshop has been crashing for mysterious reasons the whole morning, and I tried to troubleshoot in the afternoon and it was a PAIN. Computers are really difficuuuuuuuult--

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28/11/2023

Iwamoto-style drawing Masterclass: Bonus!

It is the "Give the leather and metal items a bit of flare/shine to immediately make the drawing look more complete"-jutsu!

###

30/11/2023

I wanted the clothes to give off an oversized, loose impression.

Canon Hughes didn't seem to be wearing a shirt underneath... hmm.

03/12/2023

I am beginning to understand the structure of the military uniform better...

Realising the butt flap/cape didn’t actually connect to the upper jacket is a shocker to me.

###

03/12/2023

A continuation of yesterday's sketch

...or so I thought, until I realized how King Bradley and Kimblee during the Ishval war had a different overcoat design, in which they actually wore a single long coat instead of a separated upper and bottom set.

###

04/12/2023

When his clothes were unbuttoned, there was something that looked like an additional button on his right chest... I wonder if it could be fastened from the back?

(Translator's note: sorry, I have no idea what button he's referring to here lol)

###

05/12/2023

I like how each character's personality was expressed through the way they dress. Contrary to his appearance, this person was very intelligent, which makes him such a great character.

#Lia translates #tweet translation #fma #fullmetal alchemist #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #Fma translation #edward elric #roy mustang #solf j. kimblee #heymans breda #maes hughes #iwamoto tatsuro #ace attorney

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kaciebello · 1 month

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No need for mail

Masterlist

Badger express ★

Lorenzo Berkshire x Hufflepuff! reader (fem)

Summary: While doing a school project, Lorenzo tries his luck. With the help of the wind and the sun, he falls harder and harder.

Warnings: no use of y/n,

Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) And just so you know, it always has been him. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ( and yes I know he's a slut, not here tho, maybe next time.)

word count: 1.1k

Song: Married In Vegas - The Vamps

Light breeze messes with his hair. He does not care as much as his attention is on the mooncalf nest that rests below the cliff. The girl next to him is doing the same. Her hair is held together in a braid with a yellow ribbon wrapped into it. They are both lying down at the edge of the cliff, one wrong move and they would be rolling down. He turns his face to her.

“Why are we doing this?” He whispers, yes whispered as he has already been scolded once for speaking at his normal volume. Apparently, it would scare the weird animal away and that is not what they want.

“It's a school project, I told you that.” She says, her gaze not moving away from the big-eyed cows.

“I don't think Hagrid would care if we pulled everything out of a book.” He argues back but knows there is no way out of this. He's finally being let in on a Hufflepuff sacred. No wonder they always get the best marks in ‘care for magical beasts’. They simply just vibe with them. The girl just shook her head at him.

The girl scooted a little bit more over the edge. Lorenzo's hand flew over to her and grabbed the back of her shirt. For a witch, she does not have even an ounce of self-preservation in her body. A small rock fell from their shuffling and landed near the nest. Scaring all the mooncalf, making them run and hide.

“look what you did!” the girl says and, with the help of Lorenzo, sits up.

“Me? I'm not the one trying to throw myself off the cliff!” he says, now too, sitting.

The girl scoffs and gets up to make her way over to the blanket where they set their stuff. He makes his way to her and sits down right next to her. Their knees touching. They both pulled out their notebook, he wrote down his observations and she finished her sketch of the animal.

Silence falls upon them as they both do their own thing. Lorenzo's eyes shift to see her sketch, only to see a familiar face. He does not know if he should call her out or not. But since he considered himself her best friend, a fact she constantly denies, he decided to do the first option.

“AYO, is that me!” Startled, the girl closes the notebook so fast it makes a thud so loud that he's certain the mooncalf all hid again. He tried to take the notebook from her, but she threw it on the other side of the blanket. She restraints one of his hands and the other one lands by her back.

When Lorenzo noticed how close they were, a smile crept on his face. She noticed too, as his legs curled a little. She turns her body to face him more and places her other hand near his, probably so she can quickly grab it if he tries something.

He noticed her eyes were scanning his face. A breeze messes with his hair again. The girl blinks and lets his arm go, going to fix it for him. He places his, now free, arm on her thighs, squeezing them to make sure his arm lands where he wants it to without actually looking.

The two friends stay silent. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one they always seem to find themself when they are together.

“You're so pretty, I wish I could get you pregnant.” She breaks the silence. Lorenco can do nothing but chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His arms now sneaking around her waist. Pulling her closer to his body.

“Ditto” He murmurs. He can feel her shake with laughter. She was now playing with his hair, something he could let her do all day if he could. That's why he peels himself off of her. She just looked at him confused. Lorenzo just shakes his head and moves a little, before ploping his head down on her lap. He makes sure to grab her arms and slam it on his head for good measure.

She looks at him with a shocked expression before sighing. Nonetheless, she does what he wishes for and plays with his hair. He flashes her a smile full of pearly whites.

“You're annoying.” She says looking down at him. he pokes her side making her squirm a bit.

“But you still love me.” he sings back to her. She does not answer to him. They fall into silence again. The girl is not looking at him. Something in the distance caught her attention. He did not mind, as if she were to look down on him, she would see a fool in love.

A sun framed her head and made it look like a halo. He was smitten.

“So you know how you just wanna be friends?” He says making her give him attention. Looking down at him her arm came to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“That's cool and all, but I'm like in love with you.”

“Same” The girl just breaths out. Lorenzo did not expect her to say that. In a second he has decided he is not letting her change her mind.

He shoots up and cages her with one of his arms while the other one goes to her neck and pulls her closer. He does not give her a chance to register what is going on.

Their lips met, softly than someone would expect with how fast Lorenzo was with his moves. She took a few seconds before kissing him back, her arms cradling his face.

The kiss was sweet and slow, a fairytale-like.

Soon they ran out of breath, the girl gently pushing Lorenzo away as he tried to chase her into another kiss. Still, with closed eyes, he lends his forehead to hers.

“That was-” A low whistle cuts him off. Cursing under his breath, Lorenzo opened his eyes and straightened out. there stood four of his friends. A whine leaves him.

“AYO I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAVE A GAME LIKE THAT.” Draco makes sure that he can be heard all the way back to Hogwarts. Multiple praises and hollers sound on the little cliff they found themself on.

All the boys make their way to Lorenzo, lifting him up and repeatedly tossing him in the air. All he could do was catch a glimpse of the girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair laughing. Not even noticing the love note falling out of his pocket and getting lost in the wind.

tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

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byunpum · 1 year

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Hi hope you're doing well 💗

Can i ask a one-shot with a shy reader who doesn't really show affection to neteyam. BUT one day she wants to make the first move so she kiss him without any warning. AND neteyam go FERAL bc it turn him one (or he can just be a blushing mess ) it can be smut or just fluff if you are okay with it ofc :)

Pairing: Neteyam x human reader

Tags: crushes, Cute, baby boii neteyam.

Warning:the characters have 20's

Note: As you know my drafts had been deleted. For example this one was going to be much longer. But still, I did what I could remembering what I had already written. I still hope you like it a lot. I didn't want to make this smut, because the next post …. get ready!!! buajajaja

AVATAR MASTERLIST

Neteyam's method of showing affection was hugs, touching and caressing. While on your part it was to turn red as a tomato every time neteyam came closer than a foot away. You had the biggest crush that could exist in all of pandora. And that's saying a lot. Loak was always making fun of your sketchbook that was full of sketches of neteyam, no matter what he was doing. You would sit far away and draw him. But you didn't get too close to him and you didn't talk to him much. While loak, kiri were very close to you, you kept your distance from neteyam. You thought that if you got too close, you would ruin everything.

On the other hand, neteyam thought you hated him. Yes… you hated him with all your soul and he knew it. Every time he tried to reach out to give you a hug. You would open your eyes wide and pull away. Or when they were playing with each other. It was truth or dare… and he chose dare. Spider dared him to give you a kiss. Neteyam got close to your face, he was excited… he saw your face turn red and you pushed him away. Getting up from your place and running out to your room. Everyone was silent, looking at each other. Neteyam was heartbroken, the boy was in love with you and you hated him.

But what bothered him the most was your closeness with loak. Why loak? i mean…the boy was not a good match for you. And yet you were more affectionate with him, it wasn't like you were on top of him all day. But if you let loak put his arm on your shoulder, or let him play with your hair a little bit. Or sit next to you. It was killing him, because he wanted to have that contact with you.

Neteyam had taken the day off, and decided to go to the small station that the humans had set up on one of the islets of the Metkayina clan, after the battles. Norm and several scientists were welcomed to the islands to help. And you were part of that group. "Hey…nete" greets norm as he sees the boy enter. "Hi norm…how are you?" neteyam greets politely. As he tried to look for you somewhere in the small lab. "Are you looking for Y/N?" says norm, teasing the boy a little. Neteyam laughs nervously. At that very moment you emerge from one of the storage rooms. You shift your gaze past neteyam.

"Y/n…h-hello!!!" says neteyam excitedly following a few steps behind you. His tail wagged back and forth, until you felt him tap you on the arm. "I'm so sorry" neteyam moved away a little bit. "Don't worry nete" you looked up to look at neteyam, you saw how excited he was. Maybe he was happy about something else. Norm walked over to you. "Y/N honey…please I need you to help me get some samples. I need you to bring me some leaves of this plant" Norm showed you a picture. "This plant grows in the forested area of this island" you take the tablet to look further into what you were going to look for. "Why doesn't Neteyam come with you?" says Norm, looking at Neteyam to give him a wink. Neteyam laughs a little but shifts his gaze so you don't spot them.

"Ahhh I don't know if…maybe" you say as you muddle over your words. "It's no problem…I'm free" neteyam almost screams with excitement. Once again his tail taps you on the arm, you nudge it a little. "Ready…well go then, I need them before nightfall" says norm, refocusing on his work. "Let's go neteyam" you say, taking the sample tube and handing it to neteyam to put in her waist bag. You stand a little quietly as you watch neteyam's hands slide down to his waist. He looks up to see how you are looking at him. "All good" the boy teases. "Yeah yeah come on" you push him a little. You could push him all day, if this was going to be the only form of contact with you, He was going to let you manhandle him all you want.

They walked a bit through the wooded area, you were in the front and neteyam was in the back enjoying the view. "hey why aren't you wearing the outfit I gave you?" asks neteyam following in your footsteps. "I've kept it…I haven't had a chance to wear it" you say. You hear neteyam chuckle a little, but you decide to ignore him. Sometime later you see the plant near a small waterfall, you walk over and sit down on one of the rocks. Neteyam sits down next to you, pulling out the sample tube. " wow…this plant is beautiful" you say, as you pluck several leaf samples.

"You say you can't use my gift…but look" neteyam touches the bracelet on your arm. "loak gave this to you last week and you are wearing it" spits neteyam waiting for you to react. " nete… this is a accessory, you gave me a complete navi outfit" you say trying to take the sample tube from his hands. Neteyam moves his hands away. "So? I made it myself for you…but it's okay. Everything I do sucks for you," Neteyam says. You remain silent, he just said that you think he disgusts you. "What the hell are you saying?" you say. Neteyam relaxes a little, you can see how frustrated he was.

"Why are you avoiding me…why don't you want me to be by your side? Even now…" neteyam takes the tube and then you watch as he takes your hand and places the object there in the palm of your hand. You didn't want to say anything, you didn't dare. You didn't have the courage to tell him that the only reason you didn't approach him was because you were a nervous wreck around him. You quickly took the samples, and started on your way to the lab. On the way back to the station, neither of you dared to speak. You arrived at the lab, entered and noticed how it was empty.

"He asks me for these samples and then disappears" you complain, as you place the tube of samples on norm's desk. You turn to see neteyam, he was sitting on a improvised couch that norm had created for the size of the avatars. "Neteyam… you don't disgust me" you say, causing the boy to look up. "Really?" the boy scoffs a little. You walk over to neteyam and sit down next to him. "Didn't you like my gift?" asks Neteyam. The boy looks at you, see how you avoid looking at him. "You see…you don't even want to look at me and " you get up from the couch, getting on your knees so you can reach neteyam's face in your hands. You pull him close and kiss him. Neteyam's eyes open wide. You pull away and sit quietly beside him.

Neteyam felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. His cheeks grew warm, as he broke out in a cold sweat. You had kissed him." I have a notebook dedicated only to you… and I don't come close because I don't know how to act around you" you say shyly. Before you begin to speak, you feel neteyam's lips collide with yours again. But this time you let your emotions fly and do what they have to do.

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bandgie · 5 months

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I need a part two to that choking channie fic pleasseeee I begggggg

a/n: it's been a week and I cannot come up with the plot for the life of me. but imma write and see where it takes me :p (part 1)

warnings: MDNI 18+, confessions and sex ya know

3.2k words

You have to bite on your lips to keep yourself from smiling. The green-haired man looks like he's seen a ghost as he spots Chris's neck covered in bruises. They're not pretty ones either, mixes of purple and black wrapped like a necklace around his throat.

"A fight with who?" Felix leans forward in his seat as he hears Chris's explanation.

"Some dude just jumped me I dunno," Chris looks down and awkwardly rubs his neck. "Tried taking my wallet."

You take a sip of your drink, trying to do anything as a distraction to keep from laughing. The tip of Chris's ears are red, his lips are shiny from how many times he's licked them, and he can't stop fiddling with his hands. All clear signs that he's lying, or that something's up at the very least. However, it was just Felix who joined you two at the cafe, and he was none the wiser.

Chris and you were supposed to talk about the other night. If it was a drunken mistake or a heat-in-the-moment decision. Felix, god bless his soul, invited himself. Even if his presence wasn't needed, or even wanted, it felt good to have someone familiar with you two. It made the atmosphere lighter rather than discussing sex like a business meeting.

Felix sips on his sugary drink and places the cup down. "Did you call the police?"

"I uhh," Chris's eyes briefly meet yours then back to Felix. "I didn't. I was trying to get out of there."

"Do you remember what he looks like?" His friend can't help but try and pry for more information. "Maybe they could make a sketch or something." You can't help but smile at Felix's persistence. Chris keeps sneaking you looks as a way to ask for help, but you like watching him struggle.

"It was dark." Now that's a good excuse. "Couldn't see a whole lot. And honestly, I don't wanna remember it, freaks me out ya know?"

Felix nods rapidly, understanding. "No, I get it. I don't think I would ever be able to leave my house again. I'm sorry that happened to you, man. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

Chris nods and thanks his friend, a pink shade over his cheeks.

It's not until an hour later that Felix takes his leave. He thanks you both for the company and heads out the door, leaving you two. You erupt into giggles the moment Felix is out of view. "What kind of thief chokes someone like that?"

Chris smiles bashfully, eyes twinkling in a mixture of delight and embarrassment. "I panicked! What else was I supposed to say?" This makes you laugh more, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I dunno! Maybe the truth?"

Your suggestion makes Chris choke on his coffee. He coughs and reaches for a napkin, dabbing his face. "Fuck no. I'd rather die." He clears his throat and sets the used tissue aside. "I don't think you'd be cool with me telling everyone what we did."

What we did. He makes his sound so scandalous, so wrong. A secret meant for the two of you. And he's right, that's something you wouldn't want to share. Memories flood in from that night, how his skin felt underneath your fingertips and how soft his lips were. You have to force yourself to reach for your drink and take a gulp. The ice numbs your hands for a moment, a stark contrast to how hot Chris felt that night.

"That's fair. Plus I don't think they'd wanna know how you creamed your pants." You say, putting the drink down. Chris's eyes nearly pop from their socket. He covers his face with his hands and groans, "Don't remind me."

His reactions amuse you, and you smile mischievously. "Nah, I think I will. Weren't you begging to cum inside me? Something like 'I don't wanna cum in my pants! You. I wanna cum in you.' No?"

Chris makes a strangled noise, half-shamed and half a warning. "There are people here." You sigh, finally deciding to grant Chris a break. There's a tense silence that hangs over you two. Reciting Chris's desperate moments reminds you of why you've come to the cafe.

His confession.

Fuck, it would be so much easier if Felix just stayed. Neither of you would have to talk about it today, or if at all. Maybe you could just go back to your normal lives where everyone's friends, and nothing more. It's better to live in blissful ignorance than face reality, but it would only be a matter of time before that facade would break.

You clear your throat, "Did you mean it?"

Chris keeps his eyes on his drink playing with the lid, "Mean what?"

"That you love me."

He pops the lid off from the pressure. His hands shakily grab it and place it on the cup, snapping it back into place. "Of course I do. I always tell you that."

Now he's just playing dumb. Rather than seeming shy only minutes ago, there's a nervous air around him. He's unsure of himself and of what you might think. Chris regrets ever opening his mouth, he regrets playing that stupid game.

At the same time, he's glad he did. All those sleepless nights thinking of you changed from physical to something more. Something intimate in ways he didn't dare think about. He doesn't dream of your violent hold, he dreams of your soft one. Not the way your hands wrap around his neck, but how they could intertwine with his hands.

You sigh again, shaking your head. "Chan, that's not the type of love I'm talking about. Can you be honest with me? Please?"

How can he say no to that? Chris finally looks up at you. He wiggles in his seat as if his uncomfortable state comes from his seating position. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He sighs and attempts again, but all that comes out are small squeaks and groans.

Lie. He can hear his insecurity talking. Both of you were drinking, it was just a mistake.

"I..."

Even if it wasn't, would she really be okay being with a friend? What if she grows bored of me? What if I have nothing to give other than my body?

That can't be true. Why else would you be here? Sitting patiently, watching Chris struggle internally with himself. There's no judgment on your face, no anger or disgust as you wait. If you didn't want to know Chris's true feelings, you wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"Honestly, I've loved you for a long time now." He said it. There, he did it. His heart beats quickly in his chest, it feels like it might explode. Chris needs to spit it out before his adrenaline runs out. "I don't know when I don't think there was like...a specific moment when I knew. But I know now, and I just...really really love you. Like a lot. I'm sorry that…" he takes a breath. "I'm sorry that you found out so...weirdly. But yeah... So yeah. Sorry"

You blink a few times, trying to remember how to speak. "Don't," you shake your head. "Don't be sorry. It was a little weird finding out that way, but it's nothing to apologize for. I never thought you'd think of me that way."

Chris cocks his head to the side, "Why not?"

Being put on the spot makes your stomach churn, but it's only fair you experience the same feeling Chris did moments ago. "Oh, you know. I'm just me." You play with the near-empty cup in your hands. "I don't think there's much to me. I just don't get why someone like you would be interested."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah," you sit up straighter in your seat. "You're so...beautiful. Inside and out." Chris squirms from the compliment, but it makes you smile. "You are! Chan, you really are. I don't think you get how good of a person you are. Knowing that a soul like yours likes mine is unbelievable."

Chris can't take the consistent praise. He turns red, "What kind of a good person likes being choked?"

You throw your head back and laugh, thankful for the comedic break in tension. "Hey, I never said you weren't a freak." Chris returns the laugh, his eyes mirroring moon crescents as he smiles at you. It feels good, even if you wanted to run and hide in the beginning, to be open with him. Someone you've befriended for years, someone you trust.

Someone who could quite possibly be your lover.

"But seriously," you go back to your serious tone. "You are...amazing."

You can tell Chris wants to deflect, to tell you that you're wrong. But he silences his nagging voice and nods, "Thank you. You're not too bad yourself."

"Ah, I'd hope not," you beam at him. "So when are you gonna ask me out?"

The sudden boldness makes Chris jump, a nervous laugh escaping him. "I...You want me to?" He's surprised to see you look excited as you nod, biting your lower lip, "Yup." You add on after a few beats. "To turn you down of course."

He laughs again, though it's more relaxed. "Guess I have no choice then." Chris chews on his lower lip, debating on how to begin.

He decides to start with your name. "...Will you be my girlfriend now until the unseeable future?"

You giggle at his dramatization, "Absolutely. You still want to cum inside me?"

"Oh absolutely."

ꨄꨄꨄ

Neither of you make it back to his place. All it took was Chris to place his hand on your thigh and it was over. He had pulled over somewhere on the side with no lights before turning the car off. The sound of the engine dying was replaced by the wet sound of your lips meeting.

You don't think there's any way you could get over how nice Chris feels against you. Even if the backseat is crowded, it only creates the golden opportunity to be flush against his broad chest. the position is familiar with you on top, but everything feels entirely different.

Chris isn't scared to touch you this time, he doesn't hold back moaning into your mouth when you grind on his cock, and he absolutely cannot shut up about how much he's wanted this.

"If you make me cum my pants again, I think imma lose it." His hips buck into yours to chase the pressure. You decide that you don't want that either and lift your hips just enough for Chris to shimmy his pants down and pull his cock from his boxers.

It's already dripping, red at the tip, and twitching uncontrollably. He gives himself a few pumps, but you quickly smack his hand away almost offendedly.

"That's my job," you huff. Chris only smiles when you look down to dribble spit on his cock, grabbing the base before stroking it upwards. His smile falters into a look of pleasure, eyebrows knitting together. He groans when you slide your thumb over his slit, collecting his early release.

Your hips mimic your hand movements as if you're riding him. The desire pooling in your stomach stains your underwear and leaks down your thighs. You can't help yourself as you bring the head of his cock to your clothed core, tapping it against your cunt.

Chris's arousal leaves wet strings where his cock and your cunt meet. He gives your lips a final kiss before looking down at your soiled underwear and his flushed dick. "Fuck," he moans. "That's so hot. How wet are you?"

Rather than telling him, you pull your underwear to the side to show. The interior lights of the car show your glistening cunt, how your pussy's swollen and dripping. Chris groans at the sight, moving a hand from your waist to touch you. He rubs his fingers in circles and dips them down, collecting your arousal and smearing it on your engorged clit.

"I'm so wet," you finally answer in a breathy voice. "I need it in me bad." Chris lifts his head to meet your eyes darkened in arousal. His lips quirked upwards in a smirk, "Yeah? How bad?" You place his tip onto your bare cunt, sliding his fat head up and down yourself. "Don't make me beg," you tut. "That's your job."

Chris laughs and nods, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're right. Let me feel that pretty pussy baby."

You kiss him back in response, keeping your lips lazily on his as your guide his cock low enough to catch your entrance. You angle your hips higher and slowly sink down. Chris rubs soothing circles on your clit to help with the stretch. He knows his cock can be rather unbearable in the beginning.

But it feels so good to have him open you up. Even if it leaves a slight burning sensation in your pussy, you like fucking yourself with just his tip. If you're not careful, you could cum just like this. It would be easier, just clenching around his head and letting his hand play with your folds. But the thought of creaming around his entire length encourages you to sink further down.

Chris's hand falters at your cunt. He closes his eyes and sighs as you take more inches of him. He moans and tilts his head back, shivering when you've fully seated on him.

His exposed bruised neck sends shivers down your spine. It's like he's begging for you to mark him more, to put his entire self in your hands. Your hands trail up to his torso, his chest, before reaching his throat. You can not only see but feel how his breath catches in his throat. He peeks an eye open to see what you'll do.

Against your better judgment, you tighten your grip around his neck as you pick your hips up. His girth slides out of you a few inches more sliding back down. Chris's throat acts as leverage as you fuck yourself on him.

He hums under you, making your fingers vibrate. His hands grip the fat of your ass, squeezing and trying to get you to ride faster. "Fuck me baby," he grunts out. "Use my cock." Chris's raspy voice sends shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you pick up your pace. Hips slamming on his in wet consecutive slaps as you fuck yourself on him. A particular thrust of Chris makes you whine. He hit the deepest parts of you roughly, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your lower half.

"Fuck," you gasp out. One of your hands moves down to his shoulder for better grip. You lean back slightly to force Chris's length to hit that gummy spot you swear has your pussy seeing stars.

The material of your shirt does little to conceal your breasts that bounce beneath. Chris's eyes lock onto the sight, and he moves his hands from your waist to underneath your bra. His fingers find your pebbled nipple easily and he tugs at it.

Your hips still for a moment as he gives attention to your chest and he takes this opportunity to fuck up into you harder.

Chris quickly grabs the bottom of your shirt and lifts it to your mouth.

"Bite."

You obey immediately, and Chris goes to work spilling your tits from your bra. He watches as your mounds move with the motion of your hips. You can see his tongue poke out hungrily, but he makes no move to bury his face in your chest. It doesn't take a genius to find out why though, and you finally release his neck from your grip to reach for the headrest from the front.

Chris's lips instantly find your tits, tongue licking and swirling around your bud. His hands return to your hips and he leans forward to get better access to where you both connect. You can hear him panting just below your chin, the grunts and groans as he holds your nipple between his teeth.

Your legs wrap around his lower back now that they have room to move, and you bring him closer.

"Imma cum," it's a muffled, weak voice you announce in, but Chris only finds it endearing. He pops off your breasts with a wet smack! and looks up at you, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fat cock?" You nod mindlessly, the hand on his shoulder reaching up to pull on his hair. "You promith to cum in me Chan? Pleath I need you to cum inthide me."

Chris laughs at your slurred, muffled speech, "Of course, I promise baby." To make a point, he starts lifting your weight off his cock before slamming you back down. You cunt quivers and drools over him and the car, but you only spread your legs more to give him a better entrance.

Now that Chris can use you like a fleshlight properly, you trail your hand from the back of his head to your dipping folds to rub and flick. He feels your walls squeeze from your ministrations, and he moans in your neck. You have to keep your back arched so it doesn't hit the middle console, but Chris does most of the work by keeping you somewhat upright.

"Gonna cum in your tight pussy. Mmm, gonna give it to you all."

His announcement makes you tighten around him, your pussy locking him in so nothing drips out. "Fuck yesh," you bite into your shirt harder in anticipation. The increasing tingling sensation builds into warmth pooling your belly. All you can feel is constant pressure and how your shirt has started collecting your drool.

Your legs snap against Chris's waist and your hips try to escape his relentless thrusts when you cum. It's overwhelming and blinding, but Chris keeps a harsh grip on your hips when you try to twist away. You can't even play with your clit from how sensitive you got, and you use that wet hand to push against his chest.

The material between your teeth falls, and you hear Chris tsk in feigning disappointment. It takes too much energy to even speak, let alone hold something between your teeth. All you can manage are breathless moans and pathetic mewls.

Chris's own high isn't too far behind you. He groans at the hotness in your cunt, the way he can feel your orgasm leaking onto his cock. Your walls are unbelievably soft and slick. Relaxed enough to let Chris fuck you as he pleases while maintaining a tight embrace that he pumps his cum in.

His arousal floods your pussy along with consecutive moans. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he stills his hips. Chris's deep grunts combined with his high-pitched squeaks make you whine in return.

Then he pumps slowly but with harsh thrusts. It makes your body jolt and tighten, shivering from his warm cum and how he fucks it deeper inside of you. Chris lifts his head to look at your drooly lips, then your hazy eyes.

He hums with satisfaction at your fucked out expression and kisses you passionately. It's a stark contrast to his cock that's pouring his seed into you relentlessly. Your lips cave and your head falls slightly back from the weight of the kiss.

Chris licks alongside your bottom lip, mixing your salvias'. He wants to ensure he shares every part of himself with you. Down to the spit he mingles in your mouth to the sticky slick between your thighs. A reminder that he's yours, and you're his.

Now, until the unseeable future.

a/n: if you read this then I love you and I really wanna give you head jkjkfj but here's the 2nd part hope ya liked iittttt

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quill-is-brainstorming · 11 months

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I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

#tagamemnon #trojan war #the iliad #the aeneid #achilles #aeneas #apollo #poseidon #hera #athena

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herlondonboy · 3 months

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i bet on losing dogs, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this request. you’re in love with clarisse, but she’s in love with another.

warnings: unrequited love, ruegard, angst, no happy ending, swear word.

wc: 1.4k

clarisse was a drug. it didn’t matter what drug she was, though, you just knew you were addicted. you didn’t really know why she decided you were to be her friend. her group was small. a few siblings of hers, chris rodriguez, silena beauregard, and you.

you were nothing special, just an unclaimed camper that was good with your hands. if she had to guess, clarisse would have put you in the hephaestus cabin. you were one of the best blacksmiths and she was sure if you wanted to, you could make something far better than chameleon armour.

though you disagreed, you’d never say anything to clarisse. the thought of upsetting her or making her angry at you was always there. even when you tried not to care.

clarisse first picked you up a month after you arrived at camp half blood. she spotted you working away with an anvil and some metal. she asked you what you were working on and if it was important. when you said no, clarisse smiled then told you to make her a new dagger. did she ask nicely? no. did you make it anyway? yes.

clarisse had the kind of eyes that you could drown in. deep and brown, warm. you could never say no to those eyes. no matter how sharp their glare was.

she had the kind of eyes you could fall in love with.

you realised you were in love with clarisse not very long ago. about three weeks to be exact. you were sitting next to her during the bonfire. she was staring at silena, who had been whisked away by charles beckendorf. he wasn’t bad looking, but he definitely wasn’t your type. besides, you’d spent so much time with the hephaestus kids that charles felt like a big brother to you.

you could tell clarisse was upset at the fact that silena had left. if you weren’t so blind, you would have been able to piece together why. nevertheless, you watched her side profile as it was illuminated by the fire. you watched her jaw clenched and loosen. you soaked it all in.

how you were so close that her thigh brushed up against yours, how softly she was breathing. and you realised, you were in love.

now, normally when you realise you’re in love with your friend, you would distance yourself so they never found out until they crush wore off and you could be normal again.

that wasn’t going to work with clarisse. instead, you just refused to look at her. even when she was speaking. sure, it was rude, but you didn’t care. you weren’t going to ruin your friendship over a silly little crush.

there was one part of you, though, that thought maybe your wildest dreams would come true. that clarisse would confess to you. you allowed yourself to think this because you felt her eyes on you. ever since the campfire.

they followed you. every step you took, every walk you went on, until she finally caught you alone.

clarisse didn’t like talking about feelings. she didn’t understand them very well.

‘why would you feel sick to your stomach looking at or thinking of someone you love?’ she had asked one time.

you chuckled and shook your head. ‘you feel sick to your stomach because you don’t know if they love you too. you feel that way because you need to know, but won’t ever say anything.’

“y/n!” you heard, making you flinch and turn.

you felt ill. her crooked smile, how her hair bounced as she ran.

“clarisse,” you responded softly, already thinking of all the ways you could escape this conversation.

“i need your help.”

you looked around. “another dagger? i can’t do it today, but to-“

clarisse cut you off. you forced yourself to look at her face. you noticed how rosey her cheeks were.

“can you forge a ring?” she asked. you’ve never seen her so timid. so small.

you nod slowly.

the girl opposite you grins. “great. i-i made a sketch. can you make it as close as possible to it?” she shoved it in your hand and you opened the paper.

it was just like any other ring, only…

you wanted to throw up. you should’ve known.

“‘c heart s,’” you read aloud.

the red tint on clarisse’s face deepened.

she nodded slowly. “i think i really like silena,” you voiced your worse fears. “i want to tell her before charles does. at least then if she rejects me it’s just because she doesn’t like me, not because of some guy.”

“oh,” you said.

you wondered if she could hear your heart cracking inside your chest.

“i’m going to do it during the bonfire next week for chris’s birthday.”

you nodded, forcing a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “i’ll get right on this then.”

“thank you,” clarisse smiled. gods, her fucking smile. “you’re a life saver, y/n.”

the way your name rolled off her tongue like it was made for her.

and just as quickly as she came, she left.

pushing the paper down into your pockets, you pushed a bit of steel into the fire.

chris’s party was tonight. you don’t feel well enough to go. well, that’s a lie. you’re not sick in the way that means you’re going to throw up, you’re sick because the person you love loves someone else.

the thought of it brought tears to your eyes. it was embarrassing. you’d allowed yourself to fall so deeply in love with someone that could never love you.

a sob wracked through your body as you lied, staring at the wall. gods, you loved her so much.

you were so in love with clarisse la rue.

the door to the hermes cabin creaked open you were still crying. then you saw her. she was blurry, but it was her.

you don’t know how much longer you can hold it in for.

“are you okay?” she asked. she was always soft with you. soft with you. not with chris, not with silena, not with her siblings. just you.

you shook your head as you sat up in bed, shoulders shaking as your tried to be quiet.

“are you sick?”

you just cried. clarisse didn’t know what to do, so she leaned forward and hugged you.

gods, you hadn’t touched her in so long. her skin was soft, just like how your remembered it to be.

“i love you,” you choked out. you were sure if she heard it because nothing changed. then you heard a timid ‘what?’

you cried harder thinking about how she was was just hours away from confessing to silena. “i’m in love with you,” you forced out. “but you’re going to confess to silena and i’ve probably just gone and ruined our friendship. but i thought… i thought i had a chance until you asked me to make a ring for you.” clarisse just looked at you as you wiped your tears. “it’s like betting on a losing dog. it was stupid. i’m stupid.”

clarisse shook her head softly. “i didn’t know,” she murmured. “if i had known…”

“you should go,” you murmured. “wouldn’t want to lose to charles beckendorf,” you joked, clarisse just looked at you. “i’m fine. seriously. go.”

when she realised you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she left and went to the party. your tears stained on her shirt collar.

you decided not to go to chris’s party. even if he was your friend. you just couldn’t be there when clarisse took silena away from the party. you couldn’t be there when clarisse gave silena the ring you made.

hours passed before chiron called quits on the party. instead of just returning to their own cabins, some decided a small after party in the aphrodite cabin sounded like fun.

“hey,” you turned to see clarisse with a weak smile.

you smiled at her, though it pained you to do so.

“i didn’t do it.”

it took you a minute to figure out what ‘it’ was but when you did, you frowned. “why not?”

“y/n, you’re my best friend. why would i go into a relationship knowing it was killing you?”

you shrugged.

“i can wait. until your crush is over.”

that hurt. she didn’t want to hurt you, but the only way she could refrain from hurting you was by liking you back. and she’s never like you back.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse pjo #please reblog #elijah writes

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mikareo · 2 months

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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ A LOVE LETTER TO: THE LOUVRE ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . org. writing repost ꒱ . . . word count; 12.9k

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, geto's world has been black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide.

contains; colorblind!geto, painter!reader, geto's mom is reader’s art mentor, he hates art, strangers to friends to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn, swearing, fluff, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, geto sucks at flirting author's note; repost of a bllk fic i have, titled 'rationalism'. if there are any plot errors pls let me know,, the original fic is still posted, i just wanted this up for jjk too,, enjoy!

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Suguru knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

However, despite how dearly he holds his mother to his heart, the issue with visiting her at this time of day is that she’s in her art studio. A place he loathes more than having to wear wet socks with sneakers. While it’s a beautiful space, with high wooden beams and floor to ceiling windows, he finds himself nauseous at the mere sight of the countless tubes of oil and acrylic paints. It’s not that the smell or colors are distasteful, it’s the fact that no matter how hard he squints and struggles, he cannot fathom what the simple color red looks like.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Suguru, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Suguru hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“I tried using cooler tones in the corner here, and then migrated towards warmth in the lower portion.” You’re beside him now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his position, and completely ignoring his personal space - all while he’s never met you before this day. Your finger is extended, pointing towards the artistic decisions you’re elaborating on that, in all honesty, he doesn’t give two shits about. “I’m thinking about sketching some paper cranes on top of it all, I want it to represent the change of seasons.”

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Suguru is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Suguru purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

You look utterly unimpressed with his evaluation. Your nose is scrunched in distaste and the fold beneath your right eye seems to be twitching in disapproval for your own artwork. “That’s all that you like?” You step ever so slightly closer to him, chin tilted up to meet his gaze, before retreating quickly and coddling your painting. “Perhaps I overestimated my color palette. I really thought it would be the outstanding moment of this piece, but I guess I could rework it if the shapes are all that matter—”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

A nervous laugh leaves his mouth, embarrassing him further as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck in an attempt to look casual, only for you to grab his wrist out of thin air. “Oh my god, you did!” Your mouth is agape, inspecting his tattered skin in shock - yet somehow he knows that you aren’t truly upset with him - you don't seem like that kind of person. “Did you not realize that you’ve got scarlet red all over your palms?”

Suguru’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

There’s a moment of silence, with the two of you displaying the most aloof expressions either of you have ever made, until your face lights up with laughter. He doesn’t understand what could possibly be so funny - his joke was awful - but the sound of your contagious fits of giggles make his heart feel a little bit warmer in a place that he commonly feels suffocated in. For the first time, the studio gives him a sense of comfort rather than distress - and he knows it's because he’s developing a very clear crush on the pretty girl beside him.

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Suguru is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins, watching you wipe a tear of laughter from the crinkle of your right eye, “but why are you here? Do you have an appointment, because I could’ve sworn there weren’t any other people that were allowed in the studio at this hour—”

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Geto’s son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Suguru doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

The same student who he’s somehow enjoying talking to - though it’s mostly just you talking to his blank face - and is causing a soft yellow blush to form on his cheeks. He doesn’t actually know if yellow is the color related to blushing, but he thinks he’s read it somewhere before.

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Suguru feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that.

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Suguru doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Suguru recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Suguru can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Geto!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes.

“Oh, Suguru! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Satoru decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Suguru is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail.

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired.

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

“He can be my portrait model!” You’re still talking. Please, for the love of God, stop talking. “You know how I’ve been trying to become better skilled in the emotional aspect of my paintings, he could definitely help me out by showing anxiety and embarrassment - and you’ve been telling me it’s about time that I found myself a model.”

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Suguru, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does.

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Suguru’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’?

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continue. The expression on your face is suddenly stern. Has he offended you in some way by saying no? “I’ll figure something else out, Miss Geto. I apologize if I overstepped.”

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Suguru is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize.

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality.

God, he’s so bad at flirting.

“Thanks for finding my wallet, though.” Your fingers are suddenly touching his, momentarily grazing against his skin as you pluck your wallet from his hands. There’s no chance that you haven’t noticed the rising heat that’s currently warming the blossoms of his cheeks, and he hopes that you find it endearing. While he isn’t great with words, he likes to think that he may be at least a little bit cute. His mother always calls him a ‘cutie’ - which he appreciates, but it’s also so degrading for someone of his age. “Maybe I’ll be forgetful more often, now.”

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time.

He can’t tell if you’re trying to be subtle and coy with the budding feelings that’re growing between the two of you, and you’re just as awful at flirting as he is - or if you’ve just given up on leaving small signs of attraction. Honestly, in the past few weeks of you leaving paintbrushes and lanyards in the studio, he’d assumed it was all naturally an accident. This, though? How do you expect him to believe that you left your entire satchel in the studio? Sure, you can be a little dense, but not that dense.

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Suguru is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together.

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

You’d picked up on his feelings from the second time you met - when he willingly stayed behind in the studio for an extra two hours just to hear you ramble about the difference between heavy and soft body acrylic paints. There was something about the way you grinned at him. How your chin would angle upwards to his height in order to have a proper conversation. How you weren’t afraid to say anything and everything that was on your sporadic mind. How your eyes would sparkle at the dedicated eye contact he was making - letting you know that he was hanging on to every word that left your lips (which he just recently found out are pink - and boy does he wish to know what that undoubtedly lovely color looks like against your skin).

He hates to compare you to a painting - which he still finds a positively dreadful blob of nothingness - but to him, you are one. You’re a captivating piece of art hanging on the walls of the nationally acclaimed museum in his mind.

A captivating piece of art whose art of subtlety is extremely lacking, considering that your phone number is quite literally painted on the largest white canvas your easel can hold, in bold lettering that he would have to be visually blind to miss, plastered behind the hiding place of your bag.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will.

It pains him to notice how he hadn’t thought twice about typing the digits into his text bar, smiling to himself at the sight of your make-shift contact with the horrid selfie you’d taken on his phone to be your future contact picture. Your hair is an utter mess, with flecks of paint scattered across your hairline - which, to be honest, look like dandruff to him with their lack of vivid color, but he told you that they resemble snowflakes. He lied - but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.

Without hesitating, he types a singular ‘hey’ before backtracking. What if you don’t know that it’s him texting you? What if you think that it’s a random stranger who just so happened to be in the art studio and thought to add your contact information to their phone? He better be more clear.

‘Hello. You know me.’

Perfect.

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Suguru can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Satoru still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Suguru. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Suguru is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

Swiveling on his heel, he turns to face your approaching figure. Your footsteps are lighter than air, likely being the reason as to how you managed to stealthily sneak in so quietly while he had been distracted with his phone. The light denim jeans that cover you from waist to ankles are perhaps his favorite pair you own. You’ve painted on them over time, sketching out a garden of patterns that don’t require color to appreciate. Your artistic ability is uncanny - he can’t deny the fact that you’re incredibly skilled - and he believes that you should be given an award for making ‘art’s number one hater’ a growing fan.

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this.

You skip towards him, your left foot following your right in a rhythm of peppiness, and lean up towards him with a shine in your eyes. God, you look so pretty. Sure, seeing you from a comfortable distance with an easel separating your bodies was nice and all, but when you pull stunts like this - with no room for him to scurry off and run - he actually takes the time to digest your features in their true beauty. You’re the artist, yet he seems to be the one who’s always studying you.

“Do you have any plans for today?” You ask in a curious tone. Your hands are held together behind your back as you send him a beaming grin with an upturned lip. “—because I was thinking about grabbing some tea, and it would be so unfortunate if I had to go all alone and sit by myself with all of those strangers around me. Who knows what could happen? If only there were someone who could protect me in case a sleazy guy asks for my number…”

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so.

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Suguru’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often).

“Then it’s a date!” Surging forwards, you take his arm in yours and link yourselves together. He’s initially shocked by the immediate physical connection you’ve managed to make within mere seconds, but he thinks that he likes it. It’s been so long since he’s even held hands with a girl, so he’s understandably tense, but you’re giving him time to adjust. After all, scaring him away would be your last intention. “I’ll even pay for your drink, since you were kind enough to find my lost satchel.”

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again.

“Shit!” Suguru hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?”

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Suguru hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution.

Suguru is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years.

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Suguru finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

Your arm is extended, offering him your drink of the day without hesitation. Every time you come here, arm-in-arm, you order something different. ‘There’s no fun without surprise’, is what you tell him after the consistent strange glances he sends your way when you’re ordering, and he can’t help but disagree. You’re very different individuals - and that difference is extremely apparent with the light, mint garnished tea in your glass compared to the dark roast coffee in his.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world.

As much as he likes you, which is more than he can explain, he can’t help but have that itching thought at the back of his mind that you’ll never truly be able to connect with one another. You bask in the beauty of the world around you. From the apparent golden sun showers and bouquets of stark red roses - two things that you’ve described to him in great detail amidst your walks through the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings - to the countless brush strokes against the white canvas at his mother’s studio, you adore a world in color.

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of.

To be quite frank, it scares him. It keeps him up at night knowing that seeing the world through your eyes is impossible. That it’s a far off dream that is unobtainable, taunting him in his mind and heart like a bone dangling in front of a dog’s face. He wishes that he could admire the blue streaked skies and emerald green ferns that line the streets of the city. He yearns to feel overcome with pride at the sight of your watercolor drafts - which you attempt to show him after every class session to no avail - and congratulate you on the progress you’re making. There are so many things that he dreams of doing with you, dreams that exist solely in your world, as they’ll never be possible in his.

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

How could he bind you to him? You’d be miserable looking through his eyes - having to see only hues of black, white, and grey, similar to the pencil sketches that you’ve openly shown your hatred for in front of him. ‘There’s just nothing there,’ is what you mumble to yourself. ‘No life, no anything without color.’ To which you then drop a single ounce of paint against the seemingly dreadful piece of art - and the sparkle in your eyes as it comes to life is something that he loves to see but can’t understand…

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand.

Suguru doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

He can’t blame you, though - it really is disgusting - but he also can’t tell you that he orders his coffee black since it’s a universal drink that appears the same to everyone who sees it. At least when he’s holding the steaming mug between his large palms, he knows that it appears to you as it does to him. That the divide that’s ripping a ravine through your connected hands is lessened in a sense - and you’re truly viewing one thing as the same.

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions.

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Suguru happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Suguru despite this.

“Really?” Suguru dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?”

“No, she has.” As your words continue, you take a long sip of your tea. He can feel his cheeks flush while you swallow. He loves anything you do. “Just little comments about negative space and color theory, but I’m getting there.”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.”

Despite his seemingly rude reaction, you’re still gazing at him with a smile on your face. It isn’t an exceedingly joyful smile or one of excitement, but something of contentedness. You’ve become comfortable around him - shedded the hyperactive layers of skin that you display to onlooking strangers - and have begun to share the side of yourself that only your bedroom walls know. Seeing this side of you has made him fall even harder. Knowing that someone so confident, so bold, is just like him - caring so much about first impressions and likeability - and has their own insecurities is validating. Validating in the sense that you find him special enough to throw away the filter and be your true self in his presence.

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Suguru - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.”

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now.

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea.

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern.

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything.

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

Your sentence is more of a statement than a question. It’s as if there’s a machine in your brain, working through his given answer and comparing all of the other possibilities he could’ve said. There were endless responses to your inquiry, and he somehow managed to pick the worst one.

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

“You’re not just a student, though.” His words are tumbling over one another in somersaults and you seem to perk up at his continuity. The hope in your heart grows a little bit larger, pulsating and yearning for him to say exactly what you’d been wanting for weeks-on-weeks. “You’re my mom’s special student.”

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Suguru tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?”

How the hell are you so fast?

Within seconds the two of you are at odds outside of the building. The weather is somewhat chilly - springtime having just come around with the cherry blossoms in full bloom - and it’s probably a beautiful day with the petals raining down on the pavement. You’d usually make a comment about how wonderful the horticulture was outside of the shop, but now you’re stomping over every fallen flower and budding stem that lies in the way of your rage-filled path. He’d always thought of you as a gentle soul, but apparently even gentle souls have their breaking points - and he never dreamed that he’d be yours.

“If I’m so special, what makes me different from the girl before me and the one before her?” This is the first time you’ve ever raised your voice at him. “Did you take all of them out for drinks? Did they all get to spend one-on-one time with their mentor’s ‘handsome’ son? Did you lead all of them on, too? Suguru, what kind of answer is that?”

You’ve found yourselves in an alcove now - about a block from the cafe in a small garden nestled between two buildings. The blossoming trees continue to surround you from all sides, perfectly framing the tragic picture of him saying anything and everything you absolutely do not want to hear. A large sigh leaves your lips, heaving from your chest as if he’s popped a balloon and is pushing all of the air out with the strength of his smooth hands.

“That’s not what I meant!” He pauses as you halt in place, slowly turning to face him like you're something out of a horror movie - a monster who’s ready to murder their prey. A gulp runs down his Adam’s apple. You’re terrifying when upset. “Please, just let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Suguru flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

“Sure, you aren’t the best with banter or having a crush - but dear God, you cannot possibly be that dense.” This is getting bad. “I’ve left hundreds of hints! Every single goddamn day - and you’ve picked up on all of them! You know, I thought that when you’d hold my hand or kiss my cheek that you actually meant something by it. I figured ‘he spends so much time with me, he can’t possibly not like me’, but no. I’m just a student.”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

If this were a scene in an animated film, your hair would be on fire now. Flames as high as mountain tops would be spiking in sharp peaks at every end of sentence and statement spitting from your mouth. Your normally warm irises would be drawn as ice cold, not leaving any room for life as they skate across his timid features - wishing for him to reach freezing level so you could smash him into a million pieces.

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Suguru actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared.

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Suguru been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger.

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Suguru, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Suguru can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?”

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Suguru doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in.

“What the fuck did I do wrong that you resent me this much? Not even an hour ago all you wanted was to see me get down on one knee and profess my ‘undying’ love for you.” He’s so angry. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry. “Now I’m some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about your wellbeing? If everything I’ve done hasn’t been enough, then I might as well go fuck myself, right? I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you! I’m sorry I can’t see the world through crystal lenses like you! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you!”

His face feels wet. When did he start to cry? Was it ten minutes ago? Five? Just now? The hurricane of emotions that he’s putting himself through is more than he’s endured in years - his mental blockage of his condition finally coming to light as his heart runs off of the rails - and you’ve definitely seemed to notice considering the concern etched into your expression.

“I was never going to be perfect for you,” he begins with a softer tone. Perhaps his hot bundle of rage has subsided for a few moments. “I can’t be with you. I can’t understand how you see the world. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life listening to you ask me all of these questions and opinions on your work when I can’t even see it fully.”

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Suguru, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free.

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

He’s laughing lightly, making up for the thoughtful silence that you’ve found yourself in. It’s like he can physically see the gears turning in your head as they attempt to make sense out of his statement. “It’s more of a rich grey - almost black - and it compliments your skin tone. You know, my mom used to tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through compliments. I’ve always tried my best to do that, but it clearly hasn’t been working.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does.

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Suguru wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers.

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Satoru’s call is distant from the turning gears within Suguru’s brain. He’s sure that his best friend has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Suguru feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk.

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The bright-eyed man beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Suguru had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Satoru continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Suguru hates him.

“You’re so funny.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Suguru care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful funny guy who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being so unhelpful.”

Satoru scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Suguru stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Satoru holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his friend chuckles, causing Suguru to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Satoru continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Suguru takes his friend’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him.

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Suguru’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other.

Now he’s going to be on his knees begging for forgiveness with his hands stained by the minced grass. Does grass stain green or yellow? Hopefully not brown, dear lord. He’ll be buried deep into apologies that should definitely be rehearsed, but he knows he’s not an artist with words and he won’t bother to waste your time with crumpled-up ‘I’m sorry’ notes and improvised tears.

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth.

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Suguru doesn’t even know.

It could’ve been when you showed up to his community soccer game unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon number ten! I know you can do better than that! Beat their asses, Suguru!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of the opposing team - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of his qualms with his rivals from that day. Suguru was solely focused on playing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good.

Perhaps it was when you’d shown him around your homey apartment, with maple art easels and splattered canvases lining the walls, and watched with glee as he made his best attempt at a finger painting (which may or may not have ended up looking like two worms kissing). ‘It’s abstract’, you’d say every time he found something new that was wrong with the art piece, ‘All it needs is a home. See?’ You hung his shitty little sketchbook paper on your living room wall, right next to your TV for the whole world to see. The way you stood there staring in awe still rattles his brain. You’ve always been able to find beauty in even the smallest things.

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Suguru’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Suguru, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard.

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Suguru! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Suguru’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Suguru feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Satoru to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his big brother was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Suguru on the back.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!”

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Satoru eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Suguru knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along.

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Suguru’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Suguru knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you.

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, and I’m sorry.’

He ends the message with a final apology, begging fate that you’ll read it in time to meet him while he still has courage - and with that, he’s on his way to the place he hates most, awaiting the person whom he loves most.

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Suguru can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago.

Suguru has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you.

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back.

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Suguru hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him.

He doesn’t need the ability to see color to know that you’re the most fascinating and jaw-dropping sight in the entire universe - and that the rainbow should be rearranged in the letters of your name in honor of your ability to captivate attention and inflict a multitude of emotions on him that he’s never felt before.

“Suguru?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Suguru, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?”

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

You begin to explain yourself without him needing to ask, “I left my phone in here earlier like an idiot and I’ve been looking for it all day. Isn’t that so dumb?” You let out a little laugh, amused at your inability to keep track of your personal belongings. Why aren’t you acting like you’re upset with him? The last time you talked, you could barely look him in the eye - yet now, you’re so casual, almost as if nothing happened. “Here I am looking for my lost phone, but instead I find a lost Suguru Geto.”

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Suguru fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you.

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Suguru relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Suguru’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right.

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Suguru can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

He says it over and over again. Those three special words rapidly become six words, nine words, eighteen, forty-two, and onwards as you look at him with an empty expression. Please, please say something. For every second of no response, he confesses his love to you. He confesses as if it’s his source of air - the only way that he’ll be able to survive this encounter is if he bares his emotions with no regrets. If this were a movie, he’d be the desperate protagonist in the climax of the story who fucked up his love life and is begging for a second chance - hell, this is real life and that’s exactly what he’s doing. Just, please, have a happy ending.

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls.

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Suguru almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

Suguru brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it.

“What’s going on? I’m so confused, are you happy or are you sad?” He’s so concerned and his inability to read emotions correctly only makes him more helpless. “Talk to me, beautiful. C’mon.”

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay.

“I just never thought I’d hear you say that.” Your smile is directed at him now, and he feels a warmth that is so familiar yet unfamiliar and he can’t get enough of it. It’s similar to the feeling of being showered in sunlight or snuggling beneath a comforter in the winter - an overwhelming comfort that’s a gift from you to him. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. Fuck you for that.”

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased.

“I love you.”

Neither of you can stop the flow of confessions that slip from your tongues and in an instant your lips are on his - clashing and colliding in a furious kiss that rivals the strength of a hurricane. It’s almost as if he can physically feel your love pouring into him and warming his heart into a heated flame, stoked by the embers of your touch. God, he missed your touch. The feeling of it is addicting. It’s his personal heroin and he’ll never get enough of it.

Your lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be, perhaps they’re a rosy pink color with the slightest touch of strawberry lip balm that he keeps getting a fleeting hint of taste from. Never in his wildest dreams did he think you’d love him too. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He silently repeats over and over - grateful that he’s been so blessed to know you…feel you…and love you in the awful world that he hated living on his own - the world void of color that you’ve somehow brightened by simply breathing beside him.

His hands are everywhere. Your hips. Your waist. Your breasts. Your neck. He can’t get enough of the feeling of you. With every passing second he’s falling deeper and deeper in love. You’re utterly perfect, he would kiss you for years if that was an option—

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel.

“Goddammit,” he mumbles while briefly pulling away from you. Of course he had to interrupt the moment he’s been waiting months for with his clumsiness. He’s such a dumbass. If he could punch himself in the gut, he would - but that would be way too embarrassing in front of you - hold up, this painting is familiar!

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Suguru cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

As he places the painting upon a now-standing easel, you rest your forehead against his. He loves you. He loves you so much. So much so that he can’t help but take a step closer, not just one but many, and embrace the overwhelming love and passion he holds for you. There are so many words he wants to say, confessions that can carry on for an infinite number of lines, but there’s no need for that now. You have forever - and he decides to start that forever with his favorite thing…

…a kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

This is a fancy-ass venue.

Suguru can’t help but feel underdressed for the occasion, despite being clad in a fitted white button up and black tie, whilst his dress-shoes cramp his feet in the worst ways imaginable. He almost looks like that one moviestar in the romantic comedy you love so much. Was it the one with the rich guy in Singapore or the one where they worked in an office and he was a businessman? Suguru can’t remember. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter either way. He’s distracting himself too much, he needs to focus— tonight is one of the most important nights of your career. No, it is the most important night for your future career. His mother contacted every big art distributor and critic that she has professional relationships with. It’s your night…and wow did you kill it.

It’s almost as if you’ve plastered yourself across the walls. Every art piece that his eyes roll over is exceptionally you - your personality, your passions, and your heart - and it’s obvious you’ve spent months curating the most perfect array of paintings a person could muster.

He can read your story like an open book while he slowly makes his way through the gallery. There are paintings depicting your childhood, ones that remind him of the stories you tell him of your primary school drama and premature interests. That one must be when you broke your arm while learning to ride your bike. You’re particularly stuck on that story— strongly stating how upset you were because it was your dominant arm, halting your ability to paint for seven weeks. Referencing your painting passion, there’s a whole array of canvases dedicated to your love for art; beginning with inspirations of immaturity to skillful selections of texture techniques. Suguru is obviously no art critic, but if he were, he’d write a whole expose on how amazing you are.

With his mind so engaged with your talent, he’s oblivious to the people passing by; so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice his own family approaching.

“She’s talented isn’t she?”

Holy shit. The familiar voice of his mother startles Suguru, but he instinctively wraps a loose arm around her waist and greets her with a grin. She returns the affectionate expression and it’s painfully obvious that he got his smile from her, and even more painfully obvious that they’re all trying to embarrass him when Satoru walks up with his teeth beaming.

“Your girlfriend’s a pro at this stuff, Suguru.” Satoru ruffles his best friend’s hair and lightly nudges his shoulder. “I told you something like this would happen one day! You’ve found yourself a dream girl.”

Suguru rolls his eyes in amusement at his friend’s quips, completely ignoring him and focusing on his mom. Satoru’s always been his number one supporter. Though he’d be surprised if Satoru actually kept a girlfriend longer than a month with his constant busy schedule and inability to focus on one girl at a time; but that’s a story for another day. What matters now is his mom’s praise of you.

“Y’know I always knew she had an innate ability.” Miss Geto has a faint smile on her face, gazing at her son with nothing but pure happiness. It’s a true display of a mother’s love for her child, and Suguru doesn’t know what he’d do without her guidance. She squeezes his side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. God, he’d be so embarrassed if his friends saw this. “Though, I always thought she specialized in artwork.”

Hm? Suguru sends a puzzled glance in her direction. What is she going on about?

His mom continues, knowing her son well enough that he needs a clear explanation in order to understand anything at all, and presses her hand against his chest. “I didn’t realize she was so skilled at touching hearts.”

His heart is beating faster at the mere thought of your beauty.

There are tears behind Miss Geto’s eyes and Suguru can feel the waterworks attempting to break his own dam. They’re an emotional duo, him and his mom, Satoru gets tired of their antics sometimes— but Suguru knows he loves them. His mom always knows the right thing to say. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Suguru.”

Satoru smiles, nodding in agreement. “You seem so at ease. It’s cute.”

Reflexively, he pulls them both into a big hug— which is the first girl-related hug he’s given Satoru since he was a teenager, seventeen years old and inseparable. Suguru finally understands what it means to love and be loved, all because of you; and now he can apply that same love to his perspective on life, which was dreary for so long. The overwhelming comfort he feels in his family’s arms is the same warmth he felt when he was a child, to which he ran into his mother’s arms at any moment for a grasp at joy. For a long time, Suguru believed that it was only possible to have a singular love. Oh how wrong he was.

“I get it now.” he says softly into their ears. “She helped me understand.”

“And we’re happy for you,” Satoru pats him on the back as hard as he can, eliciting a threatening glare from his best friend, to which Suguru’s mother laughs.

“Check out the centerpieces down the hall.” Miss Geto nudges Suguru on, standing beside Satoru. “I think you’ll love them, sweetheart.”

With their encouragement, he carries on with the gallery and down the straight hallway of evolving paintings. Every step he takes, seems to carry him into a new era of your life. It’s almost as if he’s time traveling through memories that seemingly morph from abstract to realistic art; and he learns more and more about you with each passing second, ultimately leading towards one large painting in the center of the room.

Holy shit. You’re breathtaking.

Never in Suguru’s life has his world stopped due to paint on canvas— but right now, it feels like every single brush stroke is a frozen second that he gets to relive again and again, just basking in the presence of your beautiful skill.

The way you’ve outlined your hair with thin lines and highlighted your lovely cheekbones, is nothing short of masterful. If he looks close enough, he can understand the comforting feeling of cupping your face with just his eyes. He didn’t even know you did self-portraits, but now he wishes he could hang this very one right above his couch; to show off the talent of his amazing girlfriend for everyone to see (not that he actually has many friends other than his former classmates).

Where are you? He needs to let you know how special it is to be with someone like you—

“Cat got your tongue?”

Speak of the devil.

“Do you like it?” You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

You said the same thing when you first met.

Suguru looks between you and the painting, now realizing that no matter how masterful your skill is, it’s impossible to capture just how gorgeous you are in any form of art. You’re simply exquisite. The most talented painter in the world wouldn’t know how to appreciate your beauty. Davinci? No. Botticelli? No. Di Angelo? Not even he could sculpt your features to perfection. However, despite his high standards, Suguru believes that your self portrait is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

The familiar feeling of flusteredness grows on his cheeks as he holds eye-contact with you, wondering what color it is you’re wearing. He bets it’s red, you always wear red around him. “I love it.”

As your right hand finds his palm, the left reaches up and cups his cheek. With a gentle touch, your lips are on his and Suguru feels his head take a spin on the merry-go-round of love. He can’t get enough of you. If he had a choice, he’d spend every waking second of his day peppering you in light kisses on every part of your body— and he’d make sure that you never felt loneliness again. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and he’s made it his life’s goal to give that to you.

Slowly, he begins to feel your smile against his lips and you pull away with a lovesick gaze. He pulls you into his chest, cradling your head and kissing it softly before whispering how proud he is, and it’s almost unbelievable how far Suguru’s come. Somehow you’ve lured him into a bottomless ravine where the only resource to live is to be hopelessly in love with you— and truthfully, he never wants to escape. You’re everything to him.

“You love it?” your eyes are shining brighter than the sun. “You haven’t even seen my best work yet.”

“Oh?’ Suguru raises his brows, mocking surprise at your statement. “Well now you have to show me. It’s only fair.”

You place your hands on his chest and peck his lips before spinning him around. He’s confused for a moment, wondering what you’re doing when you could’ve just led him to the canvas instead of guiding him around like it’s a dance class…but then he sees it.

He sees himself.

Never in his life has he completely understood what being in love is. Yes, he's felt love. From his mother, who raised him to be the man he is; caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. From his best friend, who helped him understand ambition and sacrifice. From his community, who challenge him to be the best he possibly can and to support one another without holding grudges. He's felt different types of love from so many people in his life. Familial. Platonic. Admiration. This is different, though. The love you show him is true love. It's the kind of love that movie stars win awards for portraying. It's the fantasy that kids dream about having when they grow up into big adults. It's the thing he thought was impossible to obtain, but was lucky enough to stumble upon you in that empty art studio on the best day of his life.

He didn't know love could be expressed in this kind of way. Through the very same paint strokes and brush marks that used to make him nauseous with hatred. Seeing your masterpiece, he doesn't understand how he could ever hate something so amazing. Art is spectacular. No. Your art is spectacular. You are spectacular.

"You love it right?" You're trying your best not to giggle at his awestruck reaction. "Want to know the best part?"

Suguru can feel himself nodding, desperately reaching for your hand in an attempt to ground himself from the air he's walking on— and you begin to explain. "It's a dual piece. Notice how we're facing each other?"

Oh my god, you are facing each other. He hadn't noticed it before, but he can see clearly now. You've placed him in the dead center of the room, giving him a full view of both of the paintings— opposite of one another on two opposing easels. "Tell me more, baby." His voice is nothing louder than a whisper, only for you to hear.

"I'm painted in black and white."

Oh?

"You're painted in color."

...Oh.

"I wanted to show how love knows no bounds. There's beauty in how you see me and how I see you. It doesn't matter that I'm colorless to you, you still look at me like I'm the prettiest girl in the world; and I only wish you could understand how vibrant your eyes are, Suguru. You're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life."

He loves you.

He loves you so, so much.

A part of his heart feels like he's falling in love with you all over again. It's growing larger and larger, unable to contain the capacity of feelings he holds for you. He's so overwhelmed with joy that tears begin to fight to escape his eyes, ultimately dripping down his cheeks like watercolor on paper, and he sweeps you into the tightest hug known to man.

There's really only one thing left to do. One thing to close this chapter and carry on with the rest of your love story, something that's sacred only between the two of you. Something that he hopes to say to you everyday, every night, every hour, and every minute that he can.

"I love you."

380 notes · View notes

himechia · 5 months

Text

“ ࣭⸰ ★ EYE OF AFFECTION . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀NCT127 ; jeong jaehyun x fem reader (12.9k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ for as long as he can remember, jae's world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide.

contains; colorblind!jae, painter!reader, jae's mom is reader’s art mentor, jae hates art, strangers to lovers, major crushing from both sides, slow burn but also not slow burn (like a nice simmering burn), swearing, fluff, kissing, reader acts like she’s on an adrenaline rush 24/7, jealousy, angst, explosive arguments, lowkey toxic, extremely inaccurate depictions of colorblindness!!, johnny is jae's bestie, happy ending! author's note; hi guys this fic is finally back in the nct tumblr world,, i have this posted on my main blog for blue lock under the name 'rationalism' if u see any name errors that's why,, enjoy!!

Whenever the sun meets its peak at the high dawning point in the sky is when Jaehyun knows it's a perfectly acceptable time to visit his oh-so-beloved mother. If he could, he would spend every waking moment with her - he’s a momma’s boy through and through - not only because she birthed him and taught him everything he knows, but because she’s kind and good. She’s also one of - scratch that - she’s the only person he can stand to be around for more than twenty four hours - and he takes great pride in having such a wonderful woman in his life.

Complete black and white color blindness isn’t a life threatening condition in the slightest, but for Jaehyun, it feels as if he’s being stabbed through the sternum at any notion of the changing leaves or colorful streaks of light across the sun-setting sky.

He doesn’t hate his mother for being an artist, he simply hates the art itself.

And he especially hates pieces of art like the one sitting before him, now. With the blobs of squares and triangles against the supposedly white canvas, sitting perky on the easel as if to mock him - he decides to reach his hand out - and remind himself how emotionally detached acrylic paints make him feel. It’s wet, he observes, rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together to mix the possibly different hues. Jaehyun hopes he didn’t ruin the artist’s painting in any way, he wouldn’t know if he’d accidentally smeared shading or contrasting primaries - but surely the artist could fix it in a jiffy.

“Do you like it?”

Well, that certainly isn’t his mother’s voice.

“What do you think?”

You’re staring at him now, bright eyes shining with curiosity. Jaehyun is at a loss for words, mostly due to your unannounced appearance in the studio, but also because you’re possibly the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on - which is shocking, considering the sight of thick paint smudged against a person’s face typically sends him running the opposite direction. He’s never felt an immediate connection to the women of his past - however you, a strange girl who resembles a dog waiting for its treat, has his heart beating at twice the rate.

“I like this shape.” Jaehyun purses his lips into a straight line, never having felt so awkward in his whole life. “This square is nice, too.”

“Did you touch my painting?”

Oh boy, he’s in for it now.

Jaehyun’s mind is blank, his ability to form coherent sentences is gone, and he can only muster up the cheesiest, most terribly dreadful joke that he’s said in the twenty three years he’s been alive.

“I guess you caught me red handed?”

You’re hysterical, resembling that of insanity while Jaehyun is simply stuck in time. He can’t tell if he should be steadying you before you trip over your own feet or if he should simply take his leave and forget this day ever happened.

“Oh, I do know you!” The volume of your voice just seems to get louder and louder. “You must be Miss Jeong’s son! She always mentions how lovely her little boy is, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! Though, I expected you to be like six or seven, not my age. She should’ve mentioned that you were handsome, not cute - she really chose every adjective other than the ones that wouldn’t make you sound like a primary schooler.”

Does she ever stop talking? Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever heard another person ramble on-and-on like you do. Normally he’d have ended the conversation by now, walked away without a second thought of whether he acted rude or not, but he knows that his mother would strangle him if he was to blatantly disregard her current favorite student. The student that she loves telling him stories about at the dinner table every Sunday night as he’s just trying to eat his fingerling potatoes in peace.

“Anyways, to answer your question—”

Jaehyun feels like he’d asked you hours ago.

“—I’d walked all the way to the train station and realized I’d forgotten my wallet here - which is strange because normally I never forget anything. I’m a very organized person—”

Yeah, he doesn’t believe that.

“—and then I had to run all the way back here—”

Your shoes are scuffed. You definitely tripped on the way.

“—where I accidentally ran into a stroller…poor baby—”

Yep. Tripped.

“—which led me to you!”

You’re smiling now and Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s seen so many teeth shining at him in all of his life. God, do you ever run out of energy? No matter, he knows exactly where your missing item is. The anonymous wallet had been the first thing his eyes had grazed over when striding towards your artwork - good thing it’s only an arm’s reach away.

He snatches the wallet from the art easel and is pleasantly surprised by the quality of the possibly monochromatic leather. The clasp is simple, requiring just one twist before the contents of your identity are laid out before him. “Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Jaehyun recites the name written on your license and holds the items out to you, to which you reach out, eager to reunite with your belongings. However, at the last second he waves it in the air - away from your dying fingertips - and clicks his tongue two times. “Try not to lose it again. It’s a luxury brand, isn’t it? I like the black color.”

“Black?” Shit. The tilt of confusion your head makes indicates that your wallet is not, in fact, black. “I’m either stupid or color blind, but this is red.”

Before Jaehyun can respond, he’s saved by the bell. Well, technically his savior isn’t an actual bell, but you get the gist. “Miss Jeong!” Thank god she’s finally here to distract you. He’s been fighting to maintain his pride throughout your entire interaction. “I made an extra trip to the studio and ran into your son, here! You weren’t lying when you said he’s a little quiet - honestly, I feel like I’ve been talking to myself this whole time.”

You quite literally have been doing that very thing for the past ten minutes.

“Oh, Jaehyun! Have you been acting rude?” His mother’s expression is tense, stricter than the time he ‘accidentally’ took her (grey?) Kia Soul on a joyride that one weekend he and Johnny decided to go on a midnight run to the department store. “Please don’t mind him at all, dear. You see, he doesn’t exactly get out much - his social skills might be a little underdeveloped.”

She can’t actually be saying this right now. This is exactly why he hasn’t had a girlfriend in months - his mother embarrasses him in front of every pretty girl they come across in the first two minutes of saying ‘hello’. It isn’t that Jaehyun is a terrible flirt - which he is, but he likes to deny it - it’s that he loves his mother so much that he can’t bear to tell her that her attempts at ‘hooking him up’ are always bound to fail.

However, you don’t appear to be phased by her words. If anything, you’re actually pleased by the sound of him being socially impaired.

“That’s actually perfect!”

What.

The.

Fuck?

The endless trail of words that continue to string from your mouth seem to reach their end. Rather than speaking in spitfire, you’re now crazily staring at Jaehyun, himself. Both of your fists are clenched together in a pleading hold and he doesn’t think that you’ve blinked since the start of your conversational rampage - but despite the absurdity of your proclamation, he believes you have good intentions. There really is no reason to deny the request - after all, he’d be helping out his mother in the process, she does love having successful students - but he just can’t imagine himself spending any more time in the dreadfully grey studio than he already does.

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea, ______.” His mother catches your words before he has a chance to give you his own oral letter of rejection. “Jaehyun’s never been one for art.”

“Oh.”

All you have to say is ‘oh’?

You’re bowing your head before him now, and Jaehyun is shell shocked. His first impression of you was undoubtedly a dud, considering how you actually do seem to have a rational bone in your body despite the hyperactivity you displayed just moments before. While he’s mustering up a response, you lift your eyes - lashes fluttering like upwards brush strokes on a canvas - and send a small smile his way. It’s as if you’re silently apologizing to him for the undivided attention you tormented him with, but he doesn’t want you to apologize.

He just doesn’t know how to say that he actually liked your personality.

God, he’s so bad at flirting.

He hopes you’ll start being more forgetful, too.

You’ve left your entire bag this time.

It’s obvious that you’ve begun to lose track of your belongings for the simple reason that you enjoy partaking in the awkward exchange of items when you ‘hastily’ return to the empty renovated greenhouse and get to act surprised to see him standing there with his arms full of things with your name written all over them. In fact, this instance has happened so often that Jaehyun is beginning to believe that he actually enjoys it, too.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe you should just write your name on him to speed up this dreadful ‘will they, won’t they’ process that you’ve been pacing together.

He likes you. He really really likes you, and you both know it.

‘P.S. It's written in red paint. I know you have a thing for red.”

As much as he likes you, you can be such a pain in his ass. The bane of his existence, if you will.

‘Hello, ______. You know me.’

Perfect.

In less than a split second, you respond. He can feel his nerves itching at the sight of the grey text bubble popping in and out of view. Jaehyun can’t even remember the last time his heart beat so fast. Perhaps when he was standing in front of his secondary school health classroom and he accidentally mistook a photo of the urinary system with the ovaries during a speech about the female menstrual cycle? The stream of liquid projected against the white board was in fact not what he thought it was (how was he supposed to see the difference between red and yellow?), which turned into a horribly disgusting presentation that Johnny still bothers him about to this day. That was dreadful - but this is definitely equally as dreadful, if not more.

‘Stalker much?’ Huh? ‘Hi though, Jae. That text was very…you.’

‘You added my number pretty quickly.’ Man, you text really fast. ‘You just couldn’t resist me, could you?’

He doesn’t know what to say back. It’s as if his mind has been scraped raw of all romantic material that one would usually use in this situation - the situation in which an unbelievably pretty girl is talking to him through a phone screen. Jaehyun is completely frozen in place, time, and thought. The only part of him that isn’t paralyzed is the hole in his chest that is beginning to be thawed by you. His frozen heart of past relationships has found its fire - and oh does it burn for you.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Where the fuck did you come from?

“You left your bag.” No shit, Captain Obvious. “Do you want it back?”

He’s so bad at this.

Are you trying to manipulate him, right now?

“I’ve got nothing to do today.”

—because he’ll gladly let you do so.

The peaks of your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting him to accept the offer so quickly. Over the short time you’ve known one another, you’ve noticed that Jaehyun’s reluctance to spend one-on-one time with you has dwindled. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable in your presence and whatever inner turmoil that he’s facing is fading into the tide of your raging tsunami. There’s a peaceful gaze behind his brown eyes, now. One that you love to study whenever he isn’t looking your way (which isn’t often).

“Yeah, your lost satchel was so hard to find.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiles to himself.

Yes, you do.

He isn’t sure how, but he’s somehow burned his tongue again.

“Shit!” Jaehyun hurriedly places his mug down onto the circular wooden table that separates the two of you, while attempting to be gentle since he doesn’t want to waste the perfectly tasty coffee that you paid for. He groans, dabbing the corners of his lips with one of the complimentary paper napkins. “Why does it get me every time?”

This is perhaps the third week in a row that you and him have ditched the studio and decided to claim the neighboring cafe as your designated date spot - though you’re still an unofficially exclusive couple. Unofficial as in Jaehyun hasn’t found the nerves to ask you to be his girlfriend, and exclusive as in neither of you are nor want to see other people. It’s a confusing situation for both parties to be in, but he just can’t seem to take that next step with you no matter how hard he tries to push himself towards the ideal solution.

Jaehyun is a rationalist. He takes in the information given to him through interactions and associations, working through it with logistics on his mind, and tries to find the best outcome. It’s how he’s lived every hour and every day of his adulthood, and he’s fairly set in stone with his mannerisms at this point. He always known who he is, what he wants, and how to obtain those things. What he didn’t know, though, was that an unpredictable variable (you) would crash into his life and disarray the routine that he’d been building for twenty-three years.

The hypothesis born of the situation isn’t a difficult one to solve, after all he’s had it written down for a month: if Jaehyun finds the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, then you’ll likely say yes and the two of you will live happily ever after. Easy, right?

Wrong. He’s a chicken.

“Here. This might help you cool down.”

“Thanks, ______, you’re a lifesaver.” He sighs in relief as the cool liquid flows down his throat in an internal waterfall. “Holy shit, this is actually so good.”

You laugh, “I would hope so. I only got it because of the photo on the menu. It’s like a rainbow of color.”

And there it is. The thing that isolates him the most from your world.

It’s a viewpoint that’s shaped who you are, from infantry to your current age of twenty-two, and it’s something that you’ll never be able to let go of.

He hasn’t officially asked you to be his yet, because how could he?

…as you see the world in a way that he can never understand.

Jaehyun doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to tell you about his condition. It would end everything all at once, and he isn’t sure how he would recover from that kind of heartbreak. You’re so blissfully unaware of how much conflict runs through his veins on a daily basis. Hell, you don’t even notice how he orders a singular black coffee every time you approach the counter together. You don’t see how he struggles to agree with you as you admire the assortment of blended beverages with a forced smile on his face. You don’t understand why he chooses to indulge in such a bitter drink and make sure to comment on it every single time.

Which is why he sits pretty and appreciates the short time that you do spend together, and suffers through piping hot coffee three times a week with no interruptions.

“I think I’ve made some progress on my portfolio.”

Your drink has been returned to your hands now. The small, clear glass is ringing as you tap the sides with your fingernails. It’s somewhat soothing, the rhythm following the tune of one of your favorite songs that Jaehyun happens to know very well after walking in on you in the middle of ‘art therapy’, in which you blast the music at full volume and deafen all other sounds. You have a tendency to be impatient - art being the only thing that can really pin you down for a long period of time - yet you’ve made room in your heart for Jaehyun despite this.

“Really?” Jaehyun dabs his mouth carefully, being ever the proper suitor in your presence. “My mom hasn’t given you any recent critiques?”

“Nice.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Yeah, nice.”

“You know,” you begin in a wistful tone, “you aren’t a man of many words, Jae - and if I’m being totally honest, my patience is running out.”

He hopes this isn’t going where he thinks it is.

He’s not letting you ask him out before he can—

“What am I to you?”

Oh.

Your eyes are giving him an expectant look, now.

What the hell is he supposed to say to that?

This is the quietest you’ve ever been, you aren’t even swirling the star-shaped ice cubes in your strawberry lemon tea.

Why can’t he think of anything to say?

His silence is causing you to furrow your eyebrows in concern.

This is so embarrassing. Just say something. Anything.

“You’re my mom’s student.”

Anything but that.

“I’m…” the words at the tip of your tongue seem to dissolve like damp sugar cubes, “I’m your mom’s student.”

He needs to fix this. How can he fix this?

Oh God, he made it worse.

“What?” Jaehyun tries to reach for your hand in an attempt to compensate for his actions through physical touch, but you retaliate and instinctively jerk away. You quickly stand, drink in hand, and back away from him as he follows like a lost puppy. Your head is shaking from right to left, disbelief exerting from the pores of your skin like poison - sentencing him with death while it seeps through his gaping mouth and empty palms. “I’m a special student?”

How the hell are you so fast?

“Explain what?” Jaehyun flinches at your volume. “If you want to explain yourself so badly then tell me why the hell would you say something like that?”

Your face is fuming with every dreadful word that comes out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. I’m a special student.”

You’d always told him that red and blue - fire and ice - were two things that you admired most. With their ever changing states of matter and forceful power amidst the seasons, he found himself believing as you do. Jaehyun actually learned to appreciate their vast palette as if he could see it with his own eyes - but now? Now he thinks that they’re the two worst things in the universe - as their destructive nature has decided that their target is him, and he has absolutely no defenses prepared.

“I should’ve caught on sooner, shouldn’t I have?” You’re still going, hot tears building up and threatening to stream down your cheeks. Never in his life has Jaehyun been at the receiving end of such anger - and never in his life has he learned how to manage a situation as such. So, he does what any clueless man would do - he returns the anger.

“You’re not even listening to me!” His hands are violently moving while his words cut like knives. “You never listen to me!”

“I never listen to you?” He’s apparently hit another nerve. “Is that some kind of sick joke? Jae, all I do is listen to you! It may not look like it, but I see the way you tense whenever I talk about my passions and dreams. I notice the way your face drains when I’m asking you for your opinion on my works in progress. Sometimes it’s like I can physically hear your eyes rolling when they see me walk into the studio with my bag of brushes and materials. Yet, you think that I don’t listen? I take note of every single thing that you do when you’re around me, because I don’t want to miss out on a single moment with you, and you don’t even care!”

He can’t believe that you’re pinning this on him.

“How could you even say that?” Jaehyun can’t tell who’s in the right or wrong anymore - all he knows is that if he doesn’t stop speaking, you’ll walk away forever. “I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you! I’ve done my best to entertain your interests and the absurd things you ask of me—”

“Well, your best hasn’t been enough.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Are you being serious, right now?”

Your eyes are stoney, rock solid with stubbornness as you refuse to accept his side of the story and he knows that you won’t be budging from the beliefs that you’re choosing to hold against him. Jaehyun doesn’t know how everything went so wrong so fast, but he does know that he doesn’t have what it takes to save the situationship that he mistakenly put the two of you in.

You’re so close to him. Somewhere in the flurry of words, you took a step in his direction. “Jae, what’re you talking about?”

As he bites his bottom lip with the fear of judgment raging in his mind, his secret is set free.

“I’ve always liked this shirt on you,” he solemnly smiles, “This shade’s my favorite color that you wear.”

You look up at him, pulling at the fabric against your chest in confusion. “Red?”

“Grey.”

His hands somehow find yours as he shares the inevitable truth he’d been hiding so hard - and with a deep gulp, his secret is finally exposed.

“After all, how could I ever reach someone’s heart without even knowing what color their eyes are?”

He misses you. He can’t help it, but he does.

The memories he has with you are a cassette tape on autoplay - constantly running through his mind on repeat, and always ending with the awful confrontation that you’d left each other with. Jaehyun wishes he hadn’t raised his voice. He wishes that he would’ve been honest with you from the very beginning, but he hadn’t, and there’s no changing the past. All he has now are two empty hands that would much rather be interlaced with your paint-covered fingers.

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be moping?” Johnny’s call is distant from the turning gears within Jaehyun’s brain. He’s sure that his best friend has grown tired of his constant state of melancholy - having been forced to be his support system after you walked out the door - and Jaehyun feels awful about it. If he could, he’d rip his heart from his chest and allow you to step on it. To stomp and tear through the organs just as you’d done to those poor bystanding cherry blossoms on the sidewalk.

“As long as she’s still upset with me.” He groans as his forehead hits the marble of the island counter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Yeah, well we already knew that.” The dim-eyed boy beside him scoffs while taking yet another drink of his apple juice - which he has unfortunately had to drink for the past hour and a half since Jaehyun had somehow consumed his small supply of alcohol within the past few weeks that the two of you hadn’t been speaking. “I was really rooting for you, man. I thought she was the one to break your cycle.”

“Cycle?”

What the hell does he mean by ‘cycle’?

“Oh, you know,” Johnny continues without even taking a breath, “The cycle of life you’ve got going on with your inability to actually attract girls.”

Jaehyun hates him.

“You’re an asshole.” He grumbles, taking his own swig of the pint of orange juice he found in the back of his fridge. Is it expired? Likely yes. Does Jaehyun care, at all? Definitely not. Is he even more pissed off that he doesn’t understand the irony of why it’s called orange juice? He doesn’t want to answer that question. “An unhelpful asshole who should definitely stay over and cook dinner for me since he wants to make up for being said ‘unhelpful asshole’.”

Johnny scoffs, shaking his head whilst the thin, soft strands of his hair flit back and forth. His right eyebrow raises in a mocking expression, “You need to get yourself back out there, man. You’ll be old and grey if you keep waiting for the perfect girl to come knocking on your door, so just talk to her. Just fucking talk to her and put me out of my misery.”

“Are you trying to make this about you, right now?” Jaehyun stares at his best friend in utter disbelief, but he’s not truly upset. He knows that Johnny holds good wishes for him in all manners of life - this being no exception - and takes his words to heart. He’s right. Of course, he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t even try to get you back. “The sun must be falling out of the sky because I’m actually considering following your advice.”

“That’s a pretty picture to imagine,” his best friend chuckles, causing Jaehyun to roll his eyes. What’s the sensation that everyone has with mentioning imagery every five seconds? “Just talk to her, man.” Johnny continues, “Please, I’m all out of advice.”

Jaehyun takes his best friend’s pleas to heart. It is quite ridiculous that he’s spending his time depressed and lonesome when he could be reconciling with you. Perhaps it’s his fragile masculinity acting out and refusing to take blame for the situation, although he’s fully aware it’s completely his fault that you’re upset with him.

It’s difficult for the gears to begin turning in Jaehyun’s head. They’re covered in brittle rust that’s been creeping deep into the crevices of his mind for his entire life - slithering down his spine towards his blackened heart that you had only just begun to breathe life into. He misses the feeling of spring that came when you called. The freshwater rain of your laughter and budding blossoms of your smile that washed away his loneliness and replaced the awful emotion with an overgrown garden of bliss. He still doesn’t understand how he managed to mow that garden down with one sentence. He might as well have taken a chainsaw and brutally hacked into every connection that he’d managed to make with you in your time of knowing each other.

You deserve nothing but the best - so much more than he’s been giving you and he needs you to hear those words come straight from his mouth.

When did you begin to mean so much to him? Jaehyun doesn’t even know.

It could’ve been when you showed up to his concert unannounced, with first row seats and a booming cheer that he never knew he desired. ‘C’mon, Jae! I know you can do better than that! Sing louder!’ He nearly tripped at the sound of your voice, and falling on his face was the last thing he wanted to do in front of his group - but to be completely honest, he doesn’t remember much of insecurities on stage that day. Jaehyun was solely focused on performing well for you. The world stopped and he was given all the time needed to impress you. You give him a reason to be better, a selfless reason to do good.

Or maybe his heart had begun to beat a little faster that Saturday night on the way out of the theater. The romance of the film the two of you just witnessed was still on Jaehyun’s mind, provoking his alcohol-induced body to make a pathetic attempt at holding your hand - which resulted in him accidentally knocking you over into a street puddle that swallowed the heel of your shoe. ‘I needed to take a shower anyway, Jae, it’s fine!’ Your smile continued to be bright despite the low temperature and sprinkling rain, and he can recall wondering how you managed to stay so positive in such a dreary situation. As you discarded your soggy heels into a nearby trashcan and skipped barefoot on the pavement, you called, ‘Come on! Dance with me!’ The shared laughter between the two of you echoed through the seemingly empty streets that surrounded you - hands connected as you swung in circles around each other and fell over one too many times, until he carried your sleeping body home. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever been able to make him laugh as hard.

The way the corners of your eyes crinkle amidst fits of giggles is his favorite image to replay. He doesn’t need to know the color to be able to see how beautiful they are - to appreciate the blinding sparkle that overwhelms your irises when he accidentally trips over the uneven sidewalk or knocks over your painting station - or even when he unintentionally makes a sexual innuendo that you just so happen to pick up on. ‘That’s a love hotel, Jae! Why would I have stayed there before?’ It was almost as if you were conducting a symphony of glorious laughter that night. The violins played the tune of your voice in a higher octave and the cellos added a punch everytime you’d bite your lip in an attempt to calm down. He hadn’t known what a love hotel was intended for before that night, but he’d also made the mistake to say, ‘I wouldn’t mind going to my first one with you, it could be a first for both of us.’ and you still haven’t let him live it down. Jaehyun’s honest with himself for the most part. He’s awkward, insufferable, and a bore to be around - yet, for some odd and unknown reason, those are your favorite things about him. Why?

Why is it that he can’t function like a normal person when your eyes meet his?

Why do his words rearrange themselves and become complete gibberish when he attempts to woo you with his charm?

What is it that keeps him coming back to you, despite holding such deep hatred for the things that you love most?

“I need to text her.” Jaehyun feels his chest vibrate as he finally makes a decision, the words pouring from his mouth in a short word vomit - forcing Johnny to piece together the jumbled mess and attempt to comprehend whatever it was that his best friend was trying to say, to which he jumps up from his seat at the island and aggressively pats Jaehyun on the back.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, dumbass! Get those fingers movin’!”

His phone falls into his hands in a millisecond, with Johnny eagerly awaiting to hear his poetry. He’s grateful to have such a supportive friend. Jaehyun knows that there aren’t many people who would be willing to put up with him for so long - having been moping around and complaining day-and-night of relationship problems that were solely caused by him - and he can’t imagine not having his support. Hopefully he’ll be able to introduce you, one day. You’ll both give him so much shit for his attitude. Oh well. It’ll all be worth it having two people he loves get along.

…

Did he just…

What did—

There’s no way.

Did he really just use that word? That godforsaken word?

He’s trembling. Jaehyun’s phone is shaking in his hands as he finally comes to the realization that he does, with his entire heart and being, love you. In an instant, his entire world scrambles together with rapid dashes and line art that he can’t even comprehend. There’s no rules to follow with these types of feelings - this insistent need to see you. Hold you. Kiss you.

Fuck, he wants to kiss you. He can’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing.

Like tapping raindrops that never cease their fall, his fingertips move against the keypad in a rhythmic motion - singing a song of love that can’t be contained into a simple lullaby. His heart pours out into the message, apology after apology being pasted in paragraphs, and hopes with his whole soul that you’ll find it in yourself to at least see him in person. There’s no way you won’t. Jaehyun knows you well enough now that he’s certain he’ll be seeing you again. All he needed to do was take the first step towards forgiveness, and he’s finally willing to be vulnerable and own up to his inability to be honest about his feelings, because he loves you. He loves you and he wants to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, and a million times until you beg him to shut the hell up and kiss you.

‘I’ll be at the studio tonight. I miss you, ______, and I’m sorry.’

An hour has passed - well technically it’s been fifty-seven minutes, but who’s counting?

He’s counting.

The sun went into hiding ages ago and the moon now stalks him as he sits in his chair, lonely with two vacant eyes that wish they were gazing at yours. Jaehyun can’t even tell if you’ve read the text or not - the grey speech bubbles look the same as they always have, and the delivered sign is posted at the bottom with no response. He wants to send a follow-up message, just a little ‘hey, you there?’ but he knows that’s a little bit much. If you want to see him, you’ll see him and he’ll confess his feelings once-and-for-all - though, he’s feeling much less confident than he was an hour ago. Ahem, sorry. Fifty-nine minutes ago.

Jaehyun has a plan of what he’s going to say to you, and hopefully it makes sense when the words begin to fall from his lips. He’s said it many times before, but he’ll say it again, he’s never been good with words or feelings or anything of the sort. He wants to get better, though - to become more emotionally aware for your sake, because he knows that’s a priority for you. You have an image of your dream guy that’s been in your wishes since primary school - tall, handsome, daring, dashing, yada, yada, yada - and he’s trying to be that guy. He needs to be that guy. He’ll be anything for you.

Anything and everything…even the desperate guy who can’t get a text back.

Y’know, for a moment - a brief and fleeting moment - the world seemed a little more beautiful in his self-realization of love. The stars glistened brighter and the street lights sparkled in their reflections. Before tonight, Jaehyun hasn’t ever been able to appreciate the natural beauty of what surrounded him. He never understood your fascination with replicating real life into paintings and sketches, but he seems to have digested the concept - at least a little bit. The only thing that could undoubtedly make his world more dazzling would be the sight of you, and holy shit there you are. There you are opening the front door - and your gorgeous, perfect reflection in the glass is looking straight at him.

“Jaehyun?” Your melodious voice is the remedy that his ears have been yearning for. “Jaehyun, is that you? Why’re you in the dark?”

This means you haven’t read his text, right? Otherwise, why would you be confused as to why he’s here? Wait, why’re you even here?

“What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark?”

The repeated question is met with a pregnant silence as Jaehyun fails to piece together the rehearsed words he had come up with earlier, settling on a bear hug that nearly suffocates you.

He’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of touching you again that he barely notices how stiff your posture is. You’re practically a piece of rock in the midst of being carved by its maker, frozen and unable to formulate an action in response - which, in this case, means that he’s your artist. Jaehyun relaxes his hold, urging you to reciprocate his warmth by nestling his face in your neck. Your right arm finds its place wrapped around his waist and your left around his neck, allowing him to engulf you further into his hold. You smell so nice. He notices the lavender perfume that he bought you is still rubbed into your skin, and he’s glad that you’re finally using it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Jaehyun’s fingers run through your hair in smooth waves, gently kneading out the small knots and helping you relax - and he can tell that your full attention is on him. For the first time in knowing you, there aren’t any distractions or excuses to avoid this conversation. It’s just you, him, and the bare truth. He just hopes he can execute this right.

“There aren’t enough words to explain how sorry I am, genuinely. I shouldn’t have ever belittled you like that, ______.” He takes a deep breath, one of many, and closes his eyes. The scene of you stomping away from him has no end in his mind. It constantly plays at every hour of the day, re-run after re-run, to torment him and remind him how horribly he screwed up with you. Please, please forgive him. “You’re not just my mom’s student. You’re not just a friend that I get coffee with. You’re so much more than that and I’ve been such a fucking chicken and haven’t been able to be honest with you.”

“You couldn’t have possibly known about my condition and it was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you.” Jaehyun can feel himself begin to cry, his tears raining down his cheeks in cascades of pent up anger and hatred for how he made you feel that day. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve to be treated like shit by him. “Your work is important to you and I know it should be appreciated. What’s important to you is important to me, okay?”

“You love your art, and I love you.”

You open your mouth, yet nothing comes out. No words. No statements. No confessions. You’re simply staring at him like he’s just told you the most absurd news in the existence of the universe…

…and then a tear falls.

One tear slips from your eyes, followed by another, and another…until your face is drenched in salty rain with black mascara creasing your eyes. You look like a raccoon. Jaehyun almost starts laughing. No. He is laughing; laughing because your false lashes have fallen into your hands as the glue refused to be waterproof - and now you’re standing before him in a puddled mess of makeup and disheveled hair. You’ve never looked more beautiful.

Jaehyun brushes his fingers across your cheek, attempting to wipe away your tears like an artist covering up a beautiful mistake. If he were a painter, he’d paint you a million times and more - hanging every portrait on every single wall of his apartment, until there was literally no space left for a scrap of paper. You’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, and the smile that suddenly bursts from your sobs confirms it.

You lean into his touch and he instantly knows that everything is going to be okay.

Now you’re both laughing, giggling, and beaming at each other. His heart feels so at peace. The civil war between his divided emotions, love and loneliness, has finally ceased.

“I love you.”

Aw shit, he knocked over an easel.

“Well I'll be damned.” He chuckles and turns the canvas towards you, to which you burst out laughing. “I thought you’d have thrown this out.”

“No,” you gaze at the painting with love in your eyes. “I could never, that’s how we met.”

The painted streak he accidentally inflicted upon your artwork remains in the same position. It seems that you never even bothered covering it up and embraced the imperfection. While Jaehyun cannot decipher the magnitude of colors on the canvas, he’s sure that the various strokes look gorgeous and masterful. You’ve always been so talented. He’s so lucky.

…a kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you more.” He replies.

This is a fancy-ass venue.

Jaehyun can’t help but feel underdressed for the occasion, despite being clad in a fitted white button up and black tie, whilst his dress-shoes cramp his feet in the worst ways imaginable. He almost looks like that one moviestar in the romantic comedy you love so much. Was it the one with the rich guy in Singapore or the one where they worked in an office and he was a businessman? Jaehyun can’t remember. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter either way. He’s distracting himself too much, he needs to focus— tonight is one of the most important nights of your career. No, it is the most important night for your future career. His mother contacted every big art distributor and critic that she has professional relationships with. It’s your night…and wow did you kill it.

He can read your story like an open book while he slowly makes his way through the gallery. There are paintings depicting your childhood, ones that remind him of the stories you tell him of your primary school drama and premature interests. That one must be when you broke your arm while learning to ride your bike. You’re particularly stuck on that story— strongly stating how upset you were because it was your dominant arm, halting your ability to paint for seven weeks. Referencing your painting passion, there’s a whole array of canvases dedicated to your love for art; beginning with inspirations of immaturity to skillful selections of texture techniques. Jaehyun is obviously no art critic, but if he were, he’d write a whole expose on how amazing you are.

With his mind so engaged with your talent, he’s oblivious to the people passing by; so oblivious that he doesn’t even notice his own mother approaching.

“She’s talented isn’t she?”

Holy shit. The familiar voice of his mother startles Jaehyun, but he instinctively wraps a loose arm around her waist and greets her with a grin. She returns the affectionate expression and it’s painfully obvious that he got his smile from her, and even more painfully obvious that they’re all related when he notices they’re wearing the matching watches they got for Christmas last year; and when Johnny walks up with his teeth beaming, he also practically looks like part of the family. Long lashes and a toothy grin, the physical brand of the Jeong family; famous in not only arts, but good looks!

“Your girlfriend’s a pro at this shit, Jaehyun.” Johnny ruffles his little best friend’s hair and lightly nudges his shoulder. “I’m surprised anyone could like your annoying ass, let alone a pretty girl.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes at his best friend’s quips, completely ignoring him and focusing on his mom. Johnny’s just jealous because he can’t get a girl to deal with his narcissism. He’d be surprised if Johnny actually kept a girlfriend longer than a month with his high standards and demanding schedule; but that’s a story for another day. What matters now is his mom’s praise of you.

“Y’know I always knew she had an innate ability.” Miss Jeong has a faint smile on her face, gazing at her youngest son with nothing but pure happiness. It’s a true display of a mother’s love for her youngest son, and Jaehyun doesn’t know what he’d do without her guidance. She squeezes his side and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. God, he’d be so embarrassed if his groupmates saw this. “Though, I always thought she specialized in artwork.”

Hm? Jaehyun sends a puzzled glance in her direction. What is she going on about?

His heart is beating faster at the mere thought of your beauty.

There are tears behind Miss Jeong’s eyes and Jaehyun can feel the waterworks attempting to break his own dam. They’re an emotional duo, him and his mom, Johnny gets tired of their antics sometimes— but Jaehyun knows he loves them. Their mom always knows the right thing to say. “I never thought I’d see you like this, Jaehyun.”

Johnny smirks, nodding in agreement. “You seem so at ease. It’s cute.”

Reflexively, he pulls them both into a big hug— which is the first hug he’s given Johnny since he was nothing but a young boy, afraid and stressed, auditioning for the very first time. Jaehyun finally understands what it means to love and be loved, all because of you; and now he can apply that same love to his best friend, who’s been there for him for so long. The overwhelming comfort he feels in his family’s arms is the same warmth he felt when he made his first song and ran into his mother to celebrate his newfound passion. For a long time, Jaehyun believed that it was only possible to have that one singular passion. Oh how wrong he was.

“I get it now.” he says softly into their ears. “She helped me understand.”

“And we’re happy for you,” Johnny pats him on the back as hard as he can, eliciting a threatening glare from his younger sibling, to which their mother laughs.

“Check out the centerpieces down the hall.” Miss Jeong nudges Jaehyun on, standing beside Johnny. “I think you’ll love them, sweetheart.”

Holy shit. You’re breathtaking.

Never in Jaehyun’s life has his world stopped due to paint on canvas— but right now, it feels like every single brush stroke is a frozen second that he gets to relive again and again, just basking in the presence of your beautiful skill.

Where are you? He needs to let you know how special it is to be with someone like you—

“Cat got your tongue?”

Speak of the devil.

“Do you like it?” You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. “What do you think?”

You said the same thing when you first met.

Jaehyun looks between you and the painting, now realizing that no matter how masterful your skill is, it’s impossible to capture just how gorgeous you are in any form of art. You’re simply exquisite. The most talented painter in the world wouldn’t know how to appreciate your beauty. Davinci? No. Botticelli? No. Di Angelo? Not even he could sculpt your features to perfection. However, despite his high standards, Jaehyun believes that your self portrait is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

As your right hand finds his palm, the left reaches up and cups his cheek. With a gentle touch, your lips are on his and Jaehyun feels his head take a spin on the merry-go-round of love. He can’t get enough of you. If he had a choice, he’d spend every waking second of his day peppering you in light kisses on every part of your body— and he’d make sure that you never felt loneliness again. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and he’s made it his life’s goal to give that to you.

Slowly, he begins to feel your smile against his lips and you pull away with a lovesick gaze. He pulls you into his chest, cradling your head and kissing it softly before whispering how proud he is, and it’s almost unbelievable how far Jaehyun’s come. Somehow you’ve lured him into a bottomless ravine where the only resource to live is to be hopelessly in love with you— and truthfully, he never wants to escape. You’re everything to him.

“You love it?” your eyes are shining brighter than the sun. “You haven’t even seen my best work yet.”

“Oh?’ Jaehyun raises his brows, mocking surprise at your statement. “Well now you have to show me. It’s only fair.”

He sees himself.

Never in his life has he completely understood what being in love is. Yes, he's felt love. From his mother, who raised him to be the man he is; caring, thoughtful, and compassionate. From his best friend, who helped him understand ambition and sacrifice. From his groupmates, who challenge him to be the best he possibly can and to support one another without holding grudges. He's felt different types of love from so many people in his life. Familial. Platonic. Admiration. This is different, though. The love you show him is true love. It's the kind of love that movie stars win awards for portraying. It's the fantasy that kids dream about having when they grow up into big adults. It's the thing he thought was impossible to obtain, but was lucky enough to stumble upon you in that empty art studio on the best day of his life.

"You love it right?" You're trying your best not to giggle at his awestruck reaction. "Want to know the best part?"

Jaehyun can feel himself nodding, desperately reaching for your hand in an attempt to ground himself from the air he's walking on— and you begin to explain. "It's a dual piece. Notice how we're facing each other?"

"I'm painted in black and white."

Oh?

"You're painted in color."

...Oh.

"I wanted to show how love knows no bounds. There's beauty in how you see me and how I see you. It doesn't matter that I'm colorless to you, you still look at me like I'm the prettiest girl in the world; and I only wish you could understand how vibrant your eyes are, Jaehyun. You're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life."

He loves you.

He loves you so, so much.

"I love you."

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you so much for reading + supporting! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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wolfish-trickster · 22 days

Text

Choso headcanons

(I'm sorry i just love this gif so much 😩)

General

He likes to listen to indie bands

There's just something about having a band "all to himself" and being the sole fan where ever he goes

But after a while starts to feel a little lonely not having any fellow fans for friends

Doesn't really see the point in people taking care of plants in their home, especially those that only bloom once and then they die

Isn't a dog or a cat person, he likes both

Would want to learn at least the basics of every skill he can find

His favourite day of the week is friday

Stays up super late even thoigh he promises himself to fix his sleep schedual

Spoiler: he never does

Keeps fit and builts muscle to protect his family

If he meets people who are pretty agressive about their opinions and unable to listen to a different point of view he just up and leaves, doesn't want to waste the energy

Doesn't look like it but he's quite artistic, he especially enjoys making his nose mark into different shapes and ornaments to make himself look cool

His favourite part of working out is laying down and letting his body cool

Learned how to cook so he could take care of his brothers

Friendship

At the begining he would be just observing you

Not even trying to befriend you or your friends, nah

Just quietly watching from afar

His brothers would call him creepy for that

But he just wants to be sure you'll be worth the try

Eventually he's betrayed by Yuji who straight up tells you he has been looking at you when you do your thing

He tries to explain that he isn't shy or anything, but yeah, he was pretty closed off from you after you guys started talking

But since he spoke less he heard more and learned all your little quirks

Where others would buy you generic things for your birthday like a book or a mug he would buy you three new headphones becuase he remembered how you complained to him how often they break for you

Or he would give you something you genuenly need in your life and what would be useful

Also he would want to show you his creative side

Sketch you, write poems and haikus for you

He even tried to crochet you a flower but that failed quickly

He made you an origami instead 🥹

As he started to have feelings for you he needed advice from his brothers on what to do

They all just told him to ask you out

He didn't like that idea

What he did instead was collect his favourite hard rock and metal songs about love and give you that playlist on a CD on your birthday

He hoped you would get the hint

Your oblivious ass didn't 😭

He literally had to spell it out for you the next time you guys met

You gladly accepted his feelings (who wouldn't)

He asked you out on a date the very next day

Homeboy had no idea what to do on the first date tho...

So he improvised and went to ask the almighty google

Relationship

He made a list on his phone consisting of advices he took from google and rom coms: first he had to take you see a movie, then go to a theme park, then restaurant and then either take you home or to a hotel

Not his ideal plans for the first date but it's how humans do it apparently

Long story short, it was a catastrophy

As he went to your house to pick you up it started to rain real bad

You guys decided to wait it out in your home

Rain turned to storm

Choso then admited he had a plan written on the phone Yuji gave him

You told him ypu guys cane have home date instead

You and him watched a movie

You guys spent a long time deciding what to cook together but eventually agreed on pasta with some exotic sauce

You had lots of fun

You guys ended the date curled up under your sheet cuddling the night away as the storm raged on outside

Choso found out he loves home dates

He only ever does that from then on

One night him and you decided to take quizes to learn more about eachother

His love language is physical touch

Which makes sense since from his first night of cuddling he has had his hand on any part of your body anytime you guys met

It's like his hand and your body were two magnets

He loves hugging you from behind, shows how much smaller you are than him

Sometimes he likes to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat (is what he would tell you but really he just likes to listen to your blood moving in extreme speeds through your body, but he wants to be romantic for you)

Not the one for PDA, will jold your hand at max when outside but inside the house he goes all out

All cuddling positions, all surfaces, all times of the day

Your first kiss happened a week after you had the furst date

He honestly had no idea what kissing was

You introduced him and gave him few lectures 😉

It's safe to say the student surpassed the master

His lips are surprisingly soft and warm

The first time you kissed him he was a little stunned and his nose mark swerved a little

But then he got addicted

Giving you kisses all over your face

He likes the neck the most

Especially the parts where he can feel the blood in your veins

And when he found out tongues can get involved?

He almost didn't let you breathe

The feeling of your soft and wet muscle against his was heavenly to him

At first a little weird but he quickly got used to it

Would chuckle everytime your teeth clinked together

You also thought of introducing him to the concept of hickies but he already figured it out on his own

Doesn't like giving them too often tho, to let your veins regenarate properly, otherwise he would be painting your neck purple every day

He had his time when he read a post on social media about a guy literally dying after his girlfriend gave him a hickie and oit of fear and anxiety refused to give you any hickies for a month

After about half a year of dating he decided to introduce you to his brothers

They already knew all about you

Choso doesn't talk often but when he's in the mood he won't shut up

And lately he has been talking mostly about you

All of them were nice to you and all of you got along super well

Choso fell for you even more

One date night you picked a movie that was a little less innocent than all the ones you watched before

Thankfully you didn't have to explain the birds and bees to choso when a particularly heated scene came on

But you needed to explain to him how to get rid of his very first boner in his life 💀

NSFW

Your first time happened a year after your first date

He wanted it to be special since it's both of your first time

He studied

Aka he watched porn

Didn't get hard from watching it tho, only after he started playing out the scenes in his head with you and him in the actors' places

His first ever jirkoff happened because of this

He made a playlist to get both you and him in the mood

Wasn't needed in the end

After the very awkward first round you went into it like rabbits

Remember what i said about Choso and cuddling? Same goes for positions

All positions, all surfaces, all times of the day

Tho he had his favourites

Among his favourite positions were those he could have you in his lap

He loved it when you could drap yourself all over him

He also like the access to the skin he got

His least favourite ones are where he can't see your face

The different facial expressions he gives with different thrust angles are what keeps him going

His favourite places are the bed or the couch

And he doesn't really care about the time of the day as long as both of you are willing and not busy

The first one to propose oral was him

He was curious about how it tasted down there

He didn't find the taste anything spectacular but could see the appeal

He liked the texture on his tongue more

He also found out your juices taste different during different parts of your month cycle

That way he could keep track of your period better than you

Sometimes after he was done eating you out he mentioned how your time of the month is coming so you should be prepared

Made you chuckle every time with how bluntly he says that

You also offered to give him head

Likes it when you gently drag your teeth along his shaft

Like the feeling when you have an itchy spot and you give it a good scratch, that's the same for him and your teeth

Isn't really sure if he prefers to give or recieve yet

But doesn't mind either way

Period sex is a whole different stuff to him

As soon as he found out coming can help period cramps he was all in

At one point he was curious about what would happen if he pulled out the entire inner lining with his cursed technique

Ended your period bleeding that very day

You loved him even more

Does that for you every single month

But he's not gonna lie, he has a little sadist hidden inside of him

Likes to see blood on his dick

But only period one, as soon as it's real blood from harming you he's out

Doesn't really have any other kinks than that but he's open to explore with you

Would quickly find out he has his horny days too

On those days he would ask you all shy if you two could fuck

You never told him no how could you with those eyes

Long story short he got to try a lot of exciting things with you, for which he's grateful

#kamo choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso headcanons #jjk choso #choso fluff #choso smut

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strwberri-milk · 2 months

Note

Do you think you could do genshin charas (I don't mind who! Your pick 🫶) with a reader who has a reaaaaally clingy cat

The kitty hates everyone but the reader and follows them everywhere. When the reader leaves and the cat can't follow it meows SO loud for hours until the reader comes back. Kitty will jump up on the readers shoulder and sometimes sit on their head (small kitty) and if anyone comes close to reader the kitty will start hissing and swatting at them until they back away. Basically like a guard dog but a guard kitten

hmm im giving you diluc and kaveh!! i'm also making it so that kitty warms up to him *eventually* because itd be so sad if it hated him forever :( ALSO my friends kitten literally hates me she refused to take a treat from my hand for like half an hour [sob] she would sniff it but wouldnt eat it :((( oh ya also surprise rafayel bc hes so funny LMAO

I can see Diluc taking to cats. They're more self sufficient than dogs and considering his busy work schedule he'd think it'd be a little difficult to keep a dog busy without also worrying for it's safety. When you tell him you have a cat he doesn't mind it at all but he's a little concerned when your cat starts hissing and spitting at him.

He looks at you, unsure of what to do and you explain that the cat is simply just protective of you. He doesn't want to somehow offend your cat by encroaching on your shared bubble so he looks to you to see what he can and can't do.

Now whenever your cat and Diluc hang out it's like a game of chicken. Diluc's trying to figure out what he's allowed to do (by permission of your cat) and you're trying to make sure your cat doesn't scratch Diluc/hurt itself trying to jump onto him to protect you.

Diluc also tries other ways of acclimating your cat to him. He leaves a jacket in the room you and your kitty are in together so it can explore his scent freely, waits to see if it'll come to him rather than you bringing it to him, etc. When it slowly finally warms up to him he can barely hide his relief, hating the thought of you having to choose between him or your pet.

He's very patient and your kitty seems to appreciate it, hissing at him less until finally, one day you come home and find Diluc sitting incredibly still watching your kitten sleep soundly on his lap. He's barely breathing, turning to you when he sees you come in with awe in his eyes not unlike a child's. It definitely helped that his body runs warm and kitty just needed a place to nap.

Kaveh jumps the first time your cat hisses at him. He wasn't expecting that to happen since most animals warm up to him pretty quickly. Similar to Diluc, he knows not to force a relationship between himself and your kitten so he also takes his time to acclimate your cat to him.

Unlike Diluc I think your cat would warm up to him faster. Kaveh has absolutely great vibes and animals tend to follow him around because he also has a habit of feeding them if he can. This natural kindness is shown in the way he respects your cat's boundaries and the way he watches you care for the animal.

Your cat slowly explores Kaveh only if you're close to him. He has a bit more success if he's wearing something or has something you've recently worn draped over him but he's careful if your kitty starts circling around his feet. Even if it lightly nips or hisses at him he tries not to react too strongly, knowing that it's just trying to protect you and getting mad at it is just going to halt progress.

Eventually your cat starts to slowly enjoy sitting with Kaveh and watching him sketch. It doesn't interrupt his drawings but you notice it's eyes watching his pencil flit about. When it gets more comfortable it might tentatively bat at it, Kaveh carefully picking it up and depositing it into your lap to avoid any actual damage being done to his work.

Rafayel is incredibly dramatic and because you know he's afraid of cats you've decided to keep your cat away from him. That was mostly successful until one day he came in as you were getting dressed in your room. You knew he'd be coming over and you forgot that he could just let himself in and quickly tried to make yourself decent the second you heard his screaming.

You're ready to attack whatever it is that made him lose his composure, thinking you're ready to go face to face with a Wanderer when you find him crouched on top a kitchen counter glaring daggers at you. He knew you had a cat and was under the impression that since you knew he was coming today you would have put it away.

In a weird way he tells you he's glad that your cat isn't "trying to trick him" by being cute and cuddly. He's very adamant about not touching your cat and keeping his distance away from the "creature". You'd have to convince him to touch your cat but that only happens once your cat actually calms down in his presence. It sees how you act around him and over time realises that you care a lot about him.

It takes some more time but your cat and boyfriend have some sort of peace treaty with each other that's never actually communicated. They relatively leave each other alone and tolerate each other's presence only for you.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaveh x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader

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kooktrash · 8 months

Text

the art of obsession | kim taehyung [teaser]

NOW POSTED

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ TBD

“There is no beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.” — Edgar Allan Poe

warnings: smut. slight obsession. prestigious college. dark characters. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. MORE WARNINGS TO COME

“I told you, it might be scary,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

Your eyes met his and he didn’t back down from the stare even as it intensified with each passing second until finally you said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, you gave him your journal.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here

at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

::.

here’s just a little snippet of what I’ve been working on bc I miss fall and need it to hurry up

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby

#kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #taehyung au #Taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung fiction #taehyung fluff #taehyung oneshot #taehyung drabble

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twice-inamillion · 3 months

Text

Childhood Dream

Fluff, Story Building, Light Smut (Handjob, Facial)

Chapter 225

1740 Words

(Sana has been interested in making one of her early childhood dreams come true. As a reward she gives you a memorable moment.)

Ever since you and Sana went to the construction site and took a tour of the house, she’s been a bit more happier than usual. She goes to your office in the mornings when you call on the progress of the house and eagerly listens to them. You even asked her if she wanted a copy of the plot and house layout since she would constantly look at yours.

Obviously, she agreed, and you got her a set. She would often ask you questions whenever she had a hard time understanding something. You were more than happy to help her out and keep her busy. Surprisingly, she picked up what you taught her quickly and even asked if it was possible to build something else on the property.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I want to build a daycare.”

You see the seriousness in her eyes and ask, “Why do you want to build one?”

“Well… growing up, I always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Obviously, that didn’t happen, but after talking to Chaeyoung’s mom, she told me she used to work at a daycare after her children got a bit older. She told me about help experience, and it seems like having one would be great.”

You’re surprised by their conversation and didn’t know that Sana felt that way. It’s true that having daycare or kindergarten would be easier for members once the children get older. It’s even more important now after the experience that Sana went through; you can’t imagine what would occur if the public found out about the existence of your children.

“You’re right. Maybe having one is a good idea. How about we talk to the rest of the members?”

Sana giggles and says, “I already talked to them, and they said yes.”

“Haha, so it wasn’t much asking me but just telling me to build one.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, did you have anything in mind?”

The two of you spend most of the morning going over where the daycare would be and how big. You drew multiple sketches and drawings of what the building could have, such as a room for infants, two- to three-year-olds, four- to five-year-olds, and a kitchen. Sana mentioned that having a nice kitchen with homemade meals, a teacher's lounge, and a large playground would be nice for the kids. It took a while until the two of you could finalize the number of rooms and if having the infants separated from the rest was best or if having them in a detached building was better.

“What about the teachers?” you asked.

“Well, Chaeyoung’s mom said she would like to be one of the infant teachers, and Jihyo’s mom said they were more than willing to help. Mina mentioned it to her mom and said she would be willing to move and help with the twins. I wanted to ask my mom, but I don’t want to mention anything about kids until I’m better.”

You pull her in for a hug and hold her tight as she closes her eyes and relaxes. Once she’s a bit better, you both continue and decide where to place the build. “How about here? It’s away from the house, and we can have a nice playground.”

Sana looks around at the layout of the plot and agrees that having it away from the house would be best. “I remember my mom taking me to kindergarten on her bike. Maybe we can do the same,” she said, laughing as she tried to remember her childhood moments.

“That seems like fun. I’ll try to see if it's possible to build it. I’ll try to get it started as soon as possible if we can.”

Sana stands up from her chair and kisses you on the cheek, “Thank you!” she skips out of your office and goes off to see the children.

—————

A few days pass, and you come back from talking with the developers. Everything was approved, and I wanted to surprise Sana with the news. You walk to the living room and see her sleeping on the couch with Ari on her stomach.

“Sana, wake up.”

She rubs her eyes and turns towards you, “No, let me sleep.”

“Come on, you need to head upstairs.”

“I don’t want to, I’m…I’m going to sleep here” and turns over.

You slowly pick up Ari, holding her in your arms, and walk her upstairs to Chae’s mom. You knock and see Chae’s mom changing Hina. “Aww, she fell asleep. You can place her here,” she said as she pointed at the bed.

You kiss both Ari and Hina on the forehead before saying thanks and heading out to the living room. “Thank you.”

Now, in front of Sana, you nudge her arm, trying to wake her up, but it’s no use. “Alight, I guess it will be getting my workout for tonight.” You place your hand at each end and pick up Sana. Surprisingly, she doesn’t weigh much at all, and you can easily carry her to your room. You place her on the bed and ask, “Sana, did you wash your teeth?”

Still sleeping she mumbles, “Nee…” and tuck her in and give her a kiss.

You’re woken up to freezing cold hands rubbing against your thighs, “Good morning, Sana.” You turn around and see Sana with a smile, “Good morning, baby.” You chuckle when she goes up your inner thigh and into your shorts, “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Just wanted to say thanks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, but I heard your phone go off and saw that it was from a girl, so I am just a bit jealous. I read the text and saw that the permits and layout were approved. Said that you were going to have a meeting with the developers.” You see the light shine in her eyes by the news.

Suddenly, you feel the cold sensation in your private regions and say, “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I just want to say thanks. I know it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

You feel her ice-cold fingers grab your limp cock and groan, “Ahh… fuck… it’s cold.” Still having the bedcovers, you can only imagine what is going on as you feel swaying your cock back and forth. Little by little, it slowly gets hard, “Are you ready?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me if it feels good, okay.”

“Okay…”

With her thumb and index finger around the tip of your cock she slowly peels your foreskin back until your mushroom tip pops out. Now hardened, she pulls her hand back out and spits on her hand before going back down. She teases you by gently rubbing the tip of your cock with her wet fingers, making you moan from how sensitive it is.

“Do you like that, babe?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She then grabs your shaft and slowly begins to stroke your cock. Sana kisses your chest, causing your cock to twitch. She increases the pace of her stroking, squeezing, and tilting it up. This causes your cock to throb and Sana to simile by your moaning.

“Do you like that baby? Me stroking your big cock with my small fingers?”

“I do… I love it.”

She strokes it even faster and faster, as well as tightening the grip of her hand, “How bad do you want to cum?”

“I want to cum, I haven’t done it in a while.”

“Where do you want to cum?”

“Fuck… I don’t know, I just want to cum…”

“Want to paint my face white?”

Sana begins to giggle when she sees your cock react to her words of painting her face with cum. She flips the bedsheet over, revealing your throbbing cock, and crawls out of bed. She gets on her knees right in front of the bed. You get off the bed and stand right in front of her, stroking your cock with a firm grip.

She looks directly into your eyes as she sees that you’re about to reach your peak. “Cum for me, baby; cover my pretty face in your thick cum.”

You’re reaching your peak and can feel all your energy concentrating down in your core. “Fuck… I’m cumming! In one hard stroke, you watch as a rope of white hot cum flies and covers Sana’s. Her eyes are closed as it paints her eyebrows, nose, whole mouth, and small breasts.

“It’s so hot! You must have been so backed up, baby.”

“I was, but it was worth it,” you say as you look at the work of art you just made, using Sana’s body as your canvas.

She collects as much cum as she can with her tongue before showing you the amount of cum you shot in her mouth. She gargles you cum side to side and swallows it, then sticks out her tongue, showing you that it’s gone.

“Thank you for the breakfast, babe.”

She stands up, grabs her phone, and poses in front of her mirror, taking a photo of her upper body covered in your baby batter.

“How about joining me for a shower?”

“I’d love to.”

You smack her ass, making her giggle until you hear a pair of loud footsteps running across the hallway.

“Apa!! Apa!”

Both of your faces are horrified as the steps get louder. “I’m going to the shower; I don’t want the kids to see me like this!”

You quickly grab your bathrobe and the bathroom as Jisoo knocks on the door. Chaeyoung’s mom opened the door, and the two sisters yelled, “Apa??” They tilt their head and are surprised not to see you in your room but then hear the water running in the bathroom. “It seems like your daddy is taking a shower. How about we come back later and say good morning to him?” They both nodded their heads and ran out of the room.

Chaeyoung’s mom was about to close the door when she noticed small stains that led from the bed to the bathroom. She walks towards it, sees the clear substance, and smiles before heading back and closing the door, “What a time to be young.”

#twice smut #kpop smut #twice #twice fluff #kpop fluff #twice sana #sana fluff #sana minatozaki #sana smut #minatozaki sana #TM smut #kpop male reader #kpop idol smut #kpop x reader #idol x male reader #girl idol smut

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