#which is why i like owning books because i can come back to them if i like after that first delicious devouring
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Title for you:
From Here Til Never
Ok this was tricky… I’ve been thinking and I’m going with amnesia fic. I’ve never done one of those!
Also adding a bit to the title I’ll remember you from here to never
Eddie is missing presumed dead, I think he’s away from LA when it happens, maybe visiting Texas. Buck gets the news and is obviously distraught, already looking after Chris so he just stays at Eddie’s, regretting lost opportunities etc.
Meanwhile Eddie is somewhere else, random small town type place. Don’t ask me how he actually got there. He can’t remember his own name but some things keep catching his attention it make him feel things.
We can have a lightning storm that upsets him, makes him feel like he’s lost something important
Conveniently for me there’s a church in town called St Christopher’s that he just goes and sits outside
He catches the end of an interview of a red headed reporter on a talk show talking about her book… and loathing her on sight
On a checkup at the hospital a girl with crutches walks past and he starts crying
There’s a picture of Scottish highlands with a stag on the wall in the house he’s staying at he and he can’t stop looking at it.
He picks up a carved stag in a thrift store and has to buy it. Keeps it by his bed. Likewise he sees a st Christopher medal and buys it, puts in on straight away.
Finds out he can draw/paint but his art keeps ending up in shades of blue for some reason.
He gets taken hunting by the people who took him in and stops someone shooting a young stag when asked why he can’t explain it
He’s also strangely competent with the guns but can hardly bear to touch them.
Anyways…l time goes in then one day someone comments on his obsession with stags (which has ended up with several pictures, ornaments of stags. Except they say
“That’s a lot of Buck’s ya got there.”
Buck?
Sure male deer, stag or a buck.
Buck?
The word makes him feel strange. A sense of loss and longing.
That night he dreams of blue eyes and blood on a face he doesn’t recognise
The night after he dreams of a boy who should be wearing glasses but isn’t. He looks for those glasses in his dream until a hand covered with blood gives him a small red pair
Then sitting in front of the church again the name and the boy without glasses become one and he knows his son’s name.
He has a son. And after that another name; Buck. Buckley. Blue eyes and a red mark over one eye. A smile and a feeling. The man from his dreams. His name is Buck. The two names are accompanied by the most desperate urge to get back to them. Chris and Buck. He wants to go home. He has a home, a family. Chris and Buck.
Some investing and discussions… brother? No not a brother, definitely not a brother. Husband? That word makes him ache and he knows that he’s not a husband. They look but nothing.
Then another name comes back his own and after that more and more until he has a destination and he leaves to find it.
Probably finds Bobby first so not to give Buck and Chris a fright! Then reunion and we get Eddie explaining his collection of stags to Buck (brought them with him, putting them on shelf carefully Buck asks why and Eddie explains.
I wanted to be close to something that reminded me of what I’d lost, who I’d loved. I expect you know stags can be called bucks too.
Even when I didn’t know my name I knew yours, knew you, because I love you. I knew that even when I didn’t know anything else.
And what’s Buck going to do after that than hold onto the second chance he’s been given and kiss the man that came back to him
🤷🏻♀️ that’s what I’ve got … hope you like the idea 💡 and thanks for the ask 💜💜💜
#eddie diaz#buddie#Buddie wip wip#title prompts#buddie fic#from here to never#evan buckley#spotty scribbles
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Gale x GN Trans Reader
A/N: A rewrite of part of the Act 2 romance scene because I can, because wanted to, and because of a post on @naughtybg3confessions gave me ideas. CW for gender dysphoria.
For those who prefer AO3, a link.
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“My favorite spot. Many times evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words,” Gale says as he sits down beside you.
The light of the setting sun is a beautiful backdrop for him, bathing him in its warm, gentle rays. You ache to reach out and touch him, but you can’t quite find the courage.
Everything about this place is magical and not just in the literal sense and you have loved every moment of all that Gale has shown you, but now when it is clear what comes next your courage is failing you and you curse yourself for it.
Why does it have to be this way? Why do you have to be this way?
“What’s wrong?” Gale asks, his smile melting into a frown.
“Nothing,” you answer as you try your best to force a smile onto your lips.
The frown doesn’t vanish.
“If there’s something else you want, or if you’ve changed your mind-”
“No!”
The word is too loud, too sharp as it bursts from your lips and your hand snaps up to cover his lips, to silence the words you can’t bear to hear.
The frown becomes puzzlement. He kisses your fingers before gently cradling your hand in his own.
“Then what is it? Tell me.”
His words are laced with concern and affection, and they break your heart for how can you? How can you even begin to explain how your own body makes you feel? How on some days it feels like being flayed alive might be less painful than remaining inside this shell one moment longer? That as much as you crave all that he can show you, that you want every experience with him, the very idea of him touching your body with affection makes your stomach roil? How could you ever find the words to make him understand that?
“Or if you can’t tell me, show me?” he suggests.
Oh. The tadpole.
You’re still not quite used to this, the ability to form connections between your minds, you’ve always preferred to use your words. But in this case, he might be right, because even if you sit here for a week you’re not sure you could find the right ones this time.
Not that showing him would be much easier, but the only alternative is to end the night and that’s the last thing you want. So you open your mind to him and close your eyes, so you won’t have to see his reaction.
You hear him gasp and your head snaps away as your stomach turns into a tight knot and you slam the door to your mind shut. Even with your eyes shut you can’t bear facing him, to read what his face might hold. Disgust? Rejection? Pity? You’re not sure which one of them would be worse. You just sit very still waiting for it all to end.
It doesn’t. Instead, he puts an arm around you and tugs you in towards his chest.
“Look at me, my love,” he says, his fingers curling around your chin and tugging at it ever so gently.
“Please,” he adds when you don’t move.
You open your eyes, steel yourself and let him lift your chin to meet his eyes. There is deep affection there, warmth, and a glimmer of curiosity. Your lips twitch in a smile. Of course, there’s curiosity, this is Gale after all, whenever is he not curious?
“I love you,” is the first thing he says. “And you are beautiful to me no matter what. If you would rather put off the whole matter and simply sit here together I will understand, but I would ask you to hear out the rest of my plans for tonight before you make a decision. I think what I had in mind would be perfect for us. For you.”
You nod and he stretches out toward the nearby table and picks up a book. Your smile grows wider, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“You planned on seducing me with a book?”
“Can you think of anything more true to form?”
“No.”
“It is a special book, it contains within its pages a path to the Astral Plane. It is a place of pure mind, where you can appear as anything you can imagine as long as you put your mind to it.”
“I’m no wizard,” you say, hesitant, but intrigued.
“You don’t have to be. All you need is a good imagination and enough willpower to make your imaginings become real. I know you well enough to know you possess both in ample measure.”
He has placed the book in his lap, opened on a set of pages that each contain the outline of a palm.
“So once there, you could have the body you want to, the one you imagine yourself having.”
“I’m not quite sure what that is,” you confess.
How often haven’t you tried to imagine what your perfect body might look like? Or just a tolerable one? One that didn’t make you feel like jumping out of your own skin?
“The beauty of the Astral Plane is that you need never be confined to one shape. If what you first imagine doesn’t suit you, you can change it. However many times you like.”
The drawings in the book begin to glow softly.
“So, what say you? Shall we try? Or would you rather remain here?”
Your heart is beating too fast in your chest, anticipation running sharp in your blood. Maybe tonight could be perfect after all?
You nod.
“What do I do?”
“Put your hand on the page and close your eyes, I will do the rest.”
You do as he asks, your blood rushing in your ears. For a moment you wonder if nothing will happen, then a strange weightlessness seizes you and you gasp. Gale’s hands touch your shoulders.
“Don’t open your eyes, not quite yet. Let me walk you through this.”
“Alright.”
“Now imagine what you want to look like. All of you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes.”
“What if I want eighteen tentacles instead of legs?” you ask, giddiness spreading through you.
“That might present a slight challenge to the rest of the night’s program, but I’m nothing if not adaptable so go ahead.”
You don’t imagine eighteen tentacles, instead you do your hardest to put together the body you always dreamed of.
“I think you’ve got it,” Gale says.
“You think?”
“As I don’t know exactly what you’re imagining I can’t say for sure, but yes I think you do. Open your eyes and take a look.”
You do. Your eyes gazing downwards, across your chest, your crotch, all the way down to your toes. He’s right, it’s exactly as you imagined it and a lightness that has nothing to do with the workings of the Astral Plane washes through you.
“Success?” he asks.
You nod, too many emotions clawing at you for you to form a verbal answer.
“I knew you could do it,” he says, his lips brushing your naked shoulder in a reverent kiss.
“Thank you,” you finally manage to say aloud.
He turns you around and pulls you into his embrace.
“No, thank you. For trusting me and for letting me give you this.”
He leans in and kisses you. Your lips, your body, sparks and tingles where it touches his.
No, not your body you realize. Nor his. This is a place of pure mind, it is his mind, his soul, the very core of him that you’re touching and he’s touching you, as you really are.
You grab hold of him, pulling him as close as you can, kissing him with all the passion that has been held up and his laughs, delighted and overjoyed.
“Stay with me tonight,” he says when you finally break apart, his hand caressing your neck and face. “Let me show you what this can be like. There are endless worlds out there. Countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. Too much for one night.”
His hands slide around you to caress your back and he presses another kiss against your lips.
“But we shall try.”
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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you
content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!)
note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards.
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it.
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello?
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him.
That was until you made the first move.
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything.
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams.
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own.
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree.
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind.
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet.
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten.
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed.
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds.
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him.
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur.
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously.
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded.
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours.
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows.
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
#harunovella writes;#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk au#fem reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x y/n#reader insert#jjk x y/n
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JADEEEE i'd love to see an interaction between hotch and teacher!reader outside of school? maybe jack sees her first and step away from hotch for a moment to say hi, hotch gets scared when he realizes jack left but reader comes with him just a moment later because she's panicking too like 'why are you alone? where's your dad?' and jack takes her to him. is that ok??? i hope so! love you <3333
I love you ty for your request! —Hotch flirts with Jack’s favourite teacher, because he’s never as subtle as he should be. fem, 2k
Jack reads a couple of books a week now his dad is home more often. His mom used to read to him some because he loves them, but she preferred to tell her own on the fly. His dad isn’t as good a story teller, and when he does try the stories don’t end up very happy, so they read. Sometimes two or three books a night if they're short ones.
With Jack’s library card they can borrow ten books. With his dad’s, another ten. Twenty altogether, enough to last the month if they’re careful or if dad gets called away a lot, which he usually does.
“Can I look for Super Pup?” Jack asks his dad.
Aaron sits on a chair a little too small for him in the kids section. “What?” he asks, looking up from the back of the large picture book Jack’s just handed him.
“Super Pup?”
“I’ll help, buddy.” Hotch looks like he’s going to stand, then hesitates. “In a second. Don’t go where I can’t see you, Jackers.”
Hotch is tired. He didn’t come home until very late, but he’d woken Aunt Jess anyway and, when Jack woke, there his dad was sleeping in the beanbag by his bed. He’s sore all over now and exhausted from a restless night. Jack feels sorry, as much as he can for being six nearly seven, but he also knows that his dad doesn’t mind the hurting. It was nice to wake up together after a few days apart.
And now he’s brought him to the library, and after that they’ll go for groceries. Jack should be quick. If they get home before dinner time his dad will ask him if he wants to nap together, which is the best. They just lay there in the big bed with the fan on and snooze until it’s too late to cook, so his dad breaks out the takeout menus, and promises he won’t do it again with a quick hug from behind.
As though it makes him a terrible parent for feeding his kid. Jack can’t know how guilty it makes Hotch feel to do it, and Hotch doesn’t seem to notice how much Jack loves these days where his dad is exhausted and totally his.
Jack runs around looking for Super Pup. Hotch’s phone beeps in his pocket, and he fights to keep his eyes open.
A ways away, you browse the fiction section in a crouch, knees somehow totally under your skirt, flicking aside spines of skinny books for something you can read at lunch time. Something that doesn’t require much attention, and could be read in short intervals. You used to demand a half hour to yourself when you first started teaching, but that was before the lonely kids started cropping up. Kids with no friends, or sad smiles, who want company and quiet alike.
You reach for a pink-spined Japanese translation as a little hand pats your elbow. You’re so used to kids you say, “What’s up?” before you remember you aren’t at work.
You turn in your crouch to look behind you. “Oh, hi, Jack! What are you doing here?”
“Me and dad are looking for books.”
You smile at him genuinely, happy to see your favourite student, even if you’re terrified on the inside at the prospect of his father. He’s the most gentlemanly man you’ve ever met. He’s arduous in how respectful he is, he’s understanding, and he’s tall, dark, and handsome. It is a chilling collection of traits. You stumble whenever you have to talk to him.
But Jack is easy. You and Jack talk every day. “What sorts of books? Just for fun?”
“I want to read Super Pup.”
The kids love Super Pup and his magic bark. You stand promptly, suddenly much taller than Jack as you brush down your skirt. “Wait,” you say. Mr. Hotchner gets called away for work all the time, but he wouldn’t leave Jack alone, would he? “Where’s your dad? You’re not by yourself, are you?”
Jack laughs. “No! I’m looking for Super Pup! Dad’s tired.”
You can’t decipher exactly what those two things have to do with each other, but you can guess how panicked his dad will be to find Jack so far from the kid’s section. Fiction is the other side of the library. “How did you end up over here?” You offer your hand. “Should we go back and find your dad?”
“I saw your skirt, Miss L/N. I like the flowers.”
He takes your hand, clumsy to your gentleness. “Thanks, honey. Let’s go find dad before he calls his scary friends and has your name on the news.”
You get to the kids section slowly. Endearingly so, but nerve-wracking, too, because Mr. Hotchner can be intimidating. Jack likes holding your hand, you think, clinging to your fingers as he guides you across the library, past the staircase down to the first floor, and back to the kids section.
“Jack?” Mr. Hotchner asks loudly, turned away from you both near the graphic novel selection. “Jack.”
“Mr. Hotchner,” you say.
“Dad!”
He spins on his heel. His shoulders relax noticeably, but the stress in his gaze remains.
“Jack, I said stay where I can see you,” he says, not half as scolding as he could be as Jack lets go of your hand and runs to his legs, where he stops. “Please, buddy. You gotta listen to me.”
Jack turns between you and his dad with a smile, “But look, it’s Miss L/N.”
“I can see,” he says softly.
Mr. Hotchner leans down, taking Jack up into his arms with impressive ease, and begins the walk to you where you’ve stayed.
“I hope he didn’t interrupt you,” he says.
“Please,” you say, “he’s my favourite. Just–” You wince. “Don’t tell anybody at school I said that, Jack. Please.”
“I think we can keep this secret,” Mr. Hotchner says.
“He was just telling me that you’re looking for Super Pup. If you don’t find it, we have copies at the school library. And we can always order you one.”
Mr. Hotchner gives you a small, and what you know to be rare, smile. “I don’t think he even looked.”
“I did look!” Jack disagrees, though his disagreement barely has any attitude to it, a credit to his upbringing.
“You clearly weren’t looking in the right place.”
“I was too. How would you know, you were sleeping!”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mr. Hotchner says to you.
You tuck your hands behind your back. “It’s okay, Mr. Hotchner, I believe you. In my classroom we like to say we’re resting our eyes.”
“Aaron,” he says, as he says whenever you speak to each other, and as you always forget to call him. Not a demand but a suggestion you’d swear to be bordering affectionate.
You’ve been Jack’s teacher for two months this year, and almost the entire year previously. In the summer when they leave, you’ll find out if you’re moving up a grade with him, but until then, you’ve made the most of such a nice kid, and you aren’t shy to tell that to Aaron. You don’t mind that Jack spends his lunch time with you. He embodies all of the reasons that pushed you to become a teacher in the first place.
And his father is a good reason to stay. He’s one of the only nice (hot) dads.
You do worry often that he can read your expression. His lips have quirked into a bemused smile, what’s so funny? He’s terrifying.
“Aaron,” you rush to say, and fill the silence you’ve made, “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too. You’ll see me on Monday, so you’ll be sick of me by Tuesday.”
You rock ever so gently on your heels. “You aren’t working.”
“It’s Jack’s birthday.”
You nod, pleased. “I know! I know, we already talked about what cupcakes he wants, didn’t we? Everybody’s gonna have rainbow sprinkle, and for a treat we’re going to watch a movie before lunch.”
“Do you do that for every kid?”
“I do.”
“How do you afford it?” He lowers his gaze. “I just mean, it’s expensive to do that for every birthday.”
“Luckily for me and unluckily for the kids, quite a few of them have birthdays outside of term time. Thirty students is three trays of ten, and that doesn’t usually break the bank, even if things get tight. But… I don’t know, I guess I just have to make room when it does. It’s special to feel special, and,” —you smile, exuberant and a little shy at once, clutching your elbow in your hand— “Jack always makes everybody else feel special. ”
The boy in question turns into his fathers chest, pleased beyond words.
Aaron gives you a long, long look. “Thank you,” he says.
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
You say goodbye to Aaron and Jack and wish them both a good weekend, which you spend wondering what the pressure of Aaron’s hand would be like on your shoulder, and if you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking about it at all. He seems like he’d give a good hug. You catch yourself picturing him opening a door and ban yourself from thinking of him at all.
Monday morning, you stand at the door ushering your students inside, and you can’t help beaming when Jack and Aaron arrive.
“Aw, Jack, where’s your birthday badge?” you ask, fall air nipping your nose.
“He was feeling too shy,” Aaron says. He’s in casual dress again. Some men should be banned from half-zips, it’s inhumane.
“You were?” You bend just a bit, hand in your pocket. “Well, I thought you might be, so I brought my badge from home. It’s super shiny, bud. What do you think?”
You show Jack the badge, It’s My Birthday in silver against a rainbow backdrop.
Maybe it was silly to bring, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t want to wear one, and maybe he should. He deserves for all his friends to give him some attention, and to have them fight over who gets to sit with him at lunch.
“We have something for you,” Jack says.
You stand straight. “You do?”
Aaron hadn’t been expecting to be the one to give it to you, that much is obvious. He hesitates for a second before he passes you a small brown box, the top of which is made up of four leaves folded into a dome. You have an inkling of what it might me.
“Thank you… Can I open it now?” you ask.
“I think you should wait for lunch,” Aaron says.
You raise your eyebrows but abide by his suggestion, murmuring another thank you as Aaron bends to give Jack a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll be here to pick you up, I promise,” he says.
It’s a great day. The kids are excited for cupcakes and overjoyed to get them before lunch. Not a crumb goes uneaten, and as they all sing for Jack with his borrowed badge, he’s actually happy for the attention. He doesn’t eat with you at lunch, which is a great thing even if you love his company.
Alone, you fold back the leaves of your mysterious box and smile like an idiot when you confirm what’s inside. A cupcake slightly more sophisticated than rainbow sprinkle spreads icing across the brown carrier, and a business card leans against the other side.
The front of the card is as you’d expected it to be spelling out Aaron’s contact details from work, and you combust thinking he wants you to call him, but it’s the back that you’d been meant to see. You read it as you fold down the leaves of the cupcake carrier,
Thirty students, three trays of ten. What does that leave for you? —Aaron.
Flirt, you think firmly, happily. He’s such a flirt.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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can I request batboys with an s/o who shows affection with biting?
it’s kinda stupid, but it could be cute, or they’re weirded out.
I don’t know, whatever you think ❤️
Idk why but I like the idea of Tim absolutely reading people to filth, this might just be me but I like it.
Dick would yelp when you first bit him on the neck, instinctively pressing a hand there and look at you with a pout.
‘I know I’m an absolute snack but I didn’t think I’d see the day where you’d try and take a bite out of me.’ He whined as he rubbed his neck, feeling exactly where you bit him from the teeth marks and wetness you left behind.
He loves it when you bite him but he can’t help in being dramatic when your bite marks are left in the most visible places where anybody could see them and speculate.
‘What if people ask if I like being bit?’ Dick would gasp, looking at the marks through the mirror, whimpering slightly when lightly grazing them. ‘What if they think I like being marked?’
‘Well you obviously do because not once had you stopped me once from biting you. Not once.’ You replied from your place on the bed, looking up from your phone to stare at him through the reflective surface. ‘If anything I think I heard you whimper a few times whenever I bite your neck.’ You add, smirking upon seeing Dick’s face grow flustered.
Dick wouldn’t admit it but he did like it when you bit him, probably more then he should, but he loved the fact that whenever you bit him you were only reassuring him that he was yours and you were his, albeit in your own unique way of affection.
Jason would bite you back purely out of retaliation but it’s mainly on your cheek or shoulders that he bites.
He lives for the little yelps you give when he does bite down on your shoulder lightly, smirking like the cheeky shit he could be at times.
He’ll proudly display the bite marks to anyone who was getting too comfortable with him for his own liking, by pulling down the collar of his shirt and showing off your bite marks across his collar bone and says with his whole chest ‘I’m taken.’
Once you both were lying on bed and were just about ready to fall asleep, but your eyes honed in on his bare upper body, more specifically his big tiddies. Jason -who had just put down his book after finishing a chapter- gave you a look and said ‘don’t you fucking dare-‘ but it was already too late as you opened your mouth and bite down on his left tiddy, staying there for a good deal of time.
Jason only sighs and pets your head, pressing a kiss there and whispers. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ To which you respond cheekily with. ‘Love me?’
Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘I can think of a few ways to do that.’ But before you could ask what he meant with that, he then proceeded to bite down your neck, causing you to squeak.
However when Jason bites you, it looks at though you’ve been bites by a fucking vampire, mainly because he’s got four distinctly sharp dentures and you had developed somewhat a love/hate relationship with it, much to Jason’s amusement.
‘Hey! You do it to me so why shouldn’t I do it to you?’ He’d say with his hands raised but a smile on his face and mischievous glint in his eyes. He loves it more than he lets on, he just likes to meet you on equal footing.
He calls you his little piranha.
Tim would look at you as if to say ‘are you done?’
He’s perpetually tired from everything, so you biting him to show affection doesn’t phase him in the slightest.
You could bite his bicep and he’d be like ‘love you too you menace.’ Before taking a sip from his mug as he went about the rest of his day, uncaring of the bite mark already forming on his bicep.
However whenever Tim feels as though he’s missing you, he’d just brush his fingers over the bite mark and remind himself that you were waiting for him to come back…and probably bite him as a way to show him that you missed him also, but he really didn’t mind.
If anything his only request is that you don’t bite him anywhere his brothers could see them, they’ve already teased him enough about being with you that seeing a single bite mark would send them into utter insanity. They’d would never him live it down and would forever tease him into hell and back for it, especially Damian and Jason.
Even if you did accidentally leave a bite mark on a viable part of him and someone teases him for it, all he has for do is look them in the eye and say ‘at least I got someone who makes me really happy, and who isn’t afraid of showing me that they love me just as equally without feeling ashamed.’ He stops and looks them over with a look. ‘Which is more than I can say for you, the only real relationship you have is with a box of tissues, lube and a shitty computer system that’s on the verge of collapse.’ He adds before stalking off, leaving the person to wonder how Tim knew about the shitty computer, a shitty computer that was currently being held together by duck tape of all things.
All in all, Tim doesn’t mind you biting him in a display of affection, just don’t do so in areas where his family will take notice of and start asking really uncomfortable questions…
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#tim drake x you#tim drake x reader#Tim drake imagine#Tim drake imagines#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#red hood imagines
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The Prefect's Laugh
Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.
First Years x gn! Prefect
Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?
Divider by @saradika
It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.
The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.
While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).
“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”
“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”
Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.
“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”
“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”
“Pfft-“
Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.
He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’
Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.
Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.
He felt wronged.
And flustered.
…Shit, why are they kinda cute.
Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.
Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.
“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”
“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”
Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.
“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”
While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…
And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.
“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”
He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.
It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…
They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.
It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.
It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.
Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.
Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.
Truly the mom and dad of the group.
They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.
It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.
Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.
It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.
“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”
“…Well, we are at the library.”
“I mean at other places too.”
Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.
“Why? You find it weird?”
“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”
They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”
Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?
“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”
Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.
“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”
After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.
"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“
“…”
Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.
…It may be a little too late for him.
It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.
Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.
It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.
So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.
He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…
That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.
Well shit.
He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.
Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.
He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.
‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.
Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.
Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.
As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.
He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.
First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.
Then they smiled warmly at him.
“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”
Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?
Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.
Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.
The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).
Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.
“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.
But also absolutely effective.
The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.
“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“
He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.
On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.
It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.
Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.
In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.
All except for art, that is.
Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.
After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.
And he really really needed it.
His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.
“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…
Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.
The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.
Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.
The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.
With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.
An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…
And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.
“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.
“…”
“Human..?”
“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”
“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”
If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.
“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”
The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.
He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.
…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#jack howl#disney twst#ace trappola#deuce spade#epel felmier#sebek zigvolt#twst ace#twst jack#twst epel#twst sebek#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#jack howl x reader#epel felmier x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#twisted wonderland writing
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FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!
i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.
i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.
in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.
this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable
it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.
then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.
he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.
finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.
it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.
in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.
#fnaf#fnaf movie#eden rambles#william afton#matthew lillard#springtrap#five nights at freddy's#fnaf spoilers#idk i thought it was a great scene#ppl just need to manage their expectations of what fnaf 1 Actually Is in isolation#not the years of other media and fandom and lore and theory#we literally saw him get springlocked one time in 8 bit with no audio and four frames. how is this worse in comparison#wanna make another post talking abt how the film explores images vs the reality when you look deeper#specifically abby and her drawings/the drawings at freddys vs mike’s motivation being based on the images he sees in his dreams#and how it’s so perfect for fnaf 1 being a game almost entirely made of just scary images without actually exploring the reality#that these robots are Children and Scared and Lost#tldr the fort scene was necessary
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Bofurin my new beloved.
Ways of loving
- five ways to show love, between you and the Wind Breaker characters.
First are the more notable first years (Sakura, Nirei, Suou, Sugishita, Kiryu, Tsugeura) and our dear Kotoha.
1. Words of Affirmation
Haruka Sakura - admitting love through phone when classmates can hear
You and Haruka were talking on the phone, you just had to talk with him about the depressing mood you found yourself in following the awful morning, knowing well enough that he could motivate you and make you feel much better. After talking almost the whole break your mood got a lot better and knowing that you would meet with him later on seemed to pick you up on its own.
Sakura didn’t mind you calling him and talking about your or his problems but there was always a moment he dreaded the most. No matter how many times you were talking on the phone he tried to go as far away from his classmates as he could. He loved you, he really did and wanted to tell you that even though it took so much confidence from him, but saying so in front of others was on a whole new level, which he wasn’t yet ready for. And so the whole time you guys were talking he was crouching behind one of the buildings to keep as much privacy as he could.
“Okay then, I’ll see you after school. Love you Haru.” You said sweetly and his ears coloured pink at the nickname you always called him.
“Love you more (N/n).” He replied trying to be suave with his wavering voice but then he heard the laughing and it wasn’t coming from his phone.
Sakura quickly stood up and looked back to be face to face with his whole classroom in the windows listening in on his conversation with you.
“Oh, I love you.” Kiryu started drawing out the words in a joking matter.
“Don’t worry (N/n), we will cuddle later on.” Takanashi said and started cuddling Kakiuchi who in return patted his head.
“No, love you more.” Suou joined in and later on a few more guys jokingly mocked the conversation they heard their class captain having.
Sakura felt himself boiling up, his face got all red and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous and embarrassed or because he wanted to beat the hell out of the guys.
“Is everything alright, Haruka?” You questioned worriedly hearing a lot of voices from Sakura’s side.
“I-it’s fine, the idiots from my class were just listening in, clearly they want a beating.” He said firstly nervous but then his eyes darkened at the classmates.
“We will talk later, love you bye.” Sakura added and quickly hung up placing his phone back in the pocket.
He then turned fully to the guys.
“You better run.” He run up the wall and started climbing through the window to get to them as they started running away while screaming and yelling.
2. Acts of Service
Kyotaro Sugishita - doting on you during everyday activities
Filling the documents for your school club took so much of your attention that you didn't hear the people around you gasp and murmur about the moody boy standing in front of the clubroom. Only when one of your friends nudged you with their elbow did you look up and notice that everyone stared at the long-haired boy speaking to your club president.
You smirked at how uncomfortable Kyotaro looked and started packing your things. It was endearing that even though you told him he could wait outside, knowing that he didn't like socializing, he still came inside your school and even to your clubroom just to get you and walk you home.
"Can you just tell me why you are here?" Your president asked interrogating Kyotaro and you stepped beside them first turning towards you boyfriend in acknowledgment.
"Hi there Kyotaro." Then you turned towards your president. "I'll be leaving now, I'll fill the documents home and bring it to you tomorrow." You informed before grabbing Kyotaro's hand and pulling him through the halls and to your locker.
Changing your shoes Kyotaro held out his hands towards you to make it easier for you and you gladly took it. Leaving some books behind you closed the locker and followed after your boyfriend, outside the school and on the way to your home.
While walking home you got thirsty and when you reached for the juice you had in your bag you were saddened as you saw it was empty.
"Oh, it's empty." You looked inside the bottle looking at it as if it would make it full again.
A few seconds later a freshly opened bottle of tea appeared in front of you.
"Here." Your boyfriend held it in your sight.
"Huh?" You were slightly confused but when he took the empty bottle from your hands and replaced it with the new one you smiled at him.
He put the empty bottle inside his bag while you took a few sips of the tea.
"Thanks Kyotaro." You said and kissed the underside of his jaw.
Kyotaro's breath hitched at the action you just pulled. He grabbed your bag and went a few steps in front of you so that you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks. Your smile grew and you ran up to him to walk beside him towards your home.
Taiga Tsugeura - piggyback rides when you're tired
You were used to spending your evening with Taiga in the Muscle Power Establishment. You frequently went out with your boyfriend and most of the time it was to go to his favourite restaurant. You usually picked up one of their drinks trying to test each flavour, while Taiga was eating some high-protein meals after his training.
This evening, you had some blackberry protein shake and you sipped it through the straw. Your boyfriend sat in front of you finishing his banana pound cake as you listened to him telling the stories of recent events happening around the town.
You had your chin propped on your hand observing your enthusiastic partner. But even though his voice was always so energetic you found yourself slowly blinking more and more often with time passing.
As you started yawning, Taiga noticed your tired expression and sleepy gaze. He finished his food and started gathering his things.
“Come on, (Y/n), let’s go home.” His voice was softer when he stood beside you and you turned to him not even noticing when he came to your side of the table.
“Hmm.. oh okay then.”
The two of you said bye to the owner of the small restaurant and started your way home. Moving slowly you bumped into Taiga's side with every other step and he eyed you worriedly hoping you wouldn't hurt yourself. It wasn't common for you to be so tired after a long day and he was concerned if you would make it home.
As another yawn left your mouth you felt Taiga grabbing your hand and stopping before you. He smiled at you before squatting down.
“Go on, I’ll take you home.”
“You sure?” You asked looking at him and he sent another smile your way from behind his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I can see you're tired. Besides, it’s like additional training for me.” He said trying to comfort you that he'd be alright.
You nodded and moved to his back. As you tried to position yourself more comfortably for him he stood up and bounced you on his back keeping a firm grip on your legs. Your hands immediately moved around his neck and your head fell on his shoulder.
"Taiga careful." You said near his ear and he laughed at your words.
"Sorry, sorry, are you comfortable now?"
"Yes, please tell me when you get tired, okay?" You asked but you knew he wouldn't tell you, still he confirmed with a nod and started walking in the direction of your home.
You felt so comfortable and warm leaning against his back that you soon closed your eyes. Taiga only noticed you fell asleep when he felt your head weighing on his shoulder. He squeezed your legs and continued towards your house with a smile, happy that he could help you when you were so exhausted.
3. Gift-Giving
Mitsuki Kiryu - giving him hair accessories and styling each others' hair
The fact that Mitsuki easily lost his pins was obvious to you and you were always carrying some spare ones in your pockets. In addition, whenever you were shopping and caught eye of some pretty hair accessories, that would suit him, you immediately bought them. With how many times that already happened, Mitsuki was used to receiving small gifts from you.
"Oh! These hairpins would match with the new cardigan Mitsu has." You muttered to yourself as you noticed the display in the shop you passed by.
Immediately you went in and looked through their accessories picking a few that you knew your boyfriend would like. With your hands full you went to the checkout and paid for everything, getting a small gift bag and placing everything inside.
You made your way towards your boyfriend's home with the package tightly held in your hand. As soon as you were close you sent him a message and when you rung the doorbell, the doors opened to Mitsuki who sleepily welcomed you and kissed your cheek.
Your smile grew and a small laugh left your lips as your eyes met his bedhair.
"Did I wake you up?" You asked as you sat down on the couch next to him.
His head fell on your shoulder and he shook his head.
"Not really, it was time to wake up anyway." Then his eyes followed to your hand and the small package.
"What's that? Did you find some new hairpins?"
"Yes." Your voiced echoed happily and he straighten up.
He took the gift you gave him and opened it checking the contents, he took everything out and laid it on the couch between you two. His fingers followed and touched each hairpin as he hummed to himself appraising them.
"Thanks, (y/n)." His lips met yours for a quick peck and you smiled in return.
"Would you like me to do your hair? We can use the new hairpins."
"Sure, babe. I'll go get the hairbrush." He said and quickly went to his room to collect the brush and comb.
When he came back he sat between your legs on the carpet. You then grabbed the brush from his hands and started running your fingers between his tresses as the hairbrush followed after. His hair was so soft and nice to touch you loved doing his hairstyles, especially after he confirmed that it felt really nice to have you play with his hair.
You spent the next couple of minutes pampering him and running your fingers through his hair styling it the way he usually wore it and putting a little too many hairpins in wanting to use as much of the ones you bought as you could.
4. Quality Time
Akihiko Nirei - thrift shopping together
You were searching through the aisles in the thrift shop looking for something that you or your boyfriend would like. It was like a habit of yours by now, every other week you'd visit some second-hand shop trying on different things and spending time together.
Moving to the next clothes hanger you noticed two colourful shirts, similar in style and kind of toned down on the patterns.
"They are perfect." You muttered to yourself and took them not even checking the size.
You then marched towards the changing rooms and knocked on one of the doors.
"Yes?" A familiar voice replied and you slowly opened the doors.
"I found the best thing ever, Aki look." Your voice echoed in the small fitting room and you shoved the two shirts in front of you.
Nirei straightened up after rolling up his pants he already noticed the shirts in the mirror but he still turned around and took one of the shirts, which was closer to his size, in his hands.
"It has nice colours, but why two?"
Your smile grew on your face as if waiting for that question. You bounced once on your feet as Akihiko took off his button-down to try on the one you brought.
"Well, it's pretty obvious. One is for you and the other one is for me." You said and he stopped when he put his hand inside the sleeve and your eyes connected in the mirror.
You observed his frozen posture and giggled as he stood in his T-shirt and half-dressed shirt. Hearing your words and giggles his face flushed red.
"Matching outfits." He softly whispered and you heard him only because of the close proximity to him.
"Yes, wouldn't it be cool?" You said as he slowly continued trying on the cloth.
"If you don't want to it's fine." You added and moved towards him to straighten the collar of the shirt and he watched your hands move.
"You look really good in this shirt, Aki."
He smiled at your compliment and muttered a small "Thanks."
"And I wouldn't mind if you were matching clothes with me." He added turning his head away from you trying to hide the red on his face but you could see it in the mirror making your smile grow fondly.
"Here, put on your jacket as well." You add taking the jacket he came in and he quickly put it on.
"Do I look like a bad boy in these clothes?" He questioned shyly looking at the mirror inside the changing room and fidgeting with the shirt.
"My handsome vigilante." Your lips touched his cheek and his eyes never left yours in the mirror while a small smile appeared on his face.
You then quickly put on the other colourful shirt and stood next to him, how lucky that it matched you perfectly. He showed you a double thumbs up meaning he also liked it on you.
"Come on my handsome bad boy, let's go pay for the clothes and go for some melon soda." You mentioned while taking off the shirt and he followed taking the clothes he chose and making your way towards the cashier.
Kotoha Tachibana - gardening together
Knowing how much Kotoha loved plants and you having a little free time decided to start gardening which seemed like a great way to relax and spent more time with her. She taught you a lot of things about the plants, including naming each plant you found cute and wanted to buy.
Every time Kotoha visited you, she knew you'd show off one of the plants you bought with her. But she didn't mind, she found your interest in one of her hobbies as a great and sweet gesture.
"Look at the lemon we bought last week, it already started to grow little lemons, so cute." You said excitedly bringing the big pot from the ground and holding it in front of you so she had a better view and didn't need to bow down.
"It seems like you're taking good care of it." She ran her fingers up some of the leaves and smiled at you.
"Of course, you were the one who taught me that."
You put the lemon down and took her hand walking a little further and onto the balcony.
"But the tomatoes are not doing that good." Your face fell and Kotoha thought she saw the imaginary puppy ears on your head drop down.
She stepped a little closer and crouched beside you examining the seedlings.
"Nah, I think they're good."
"They are nowhere as nice as the ones Umemiya-san has on his rooftop."
"Don't worry, you're doing great. Besides, I like your plants more." Your smile immediately got bigger and your eyes glimmered in happiness.
"Maybe don't mention it to Ume, because he'd be crestfallen." She added shortly after.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." You saluted her jokingly making her chuckle.
After drinking some tea and talking about your days, Kotoha proposed to help you with your Chamaedorea, which needed a bigger pot. The two of you moved towards the balcony where you already had the soil and a bigger pot ready. She crouched beside you and started instructing you on replanting the greenery that was becoming bigger and bigger with each month passing.
"Here." Kotoha took off her glove and swiped the little patch of soil from your cheek as soon as you were finishing the replanting.
"You have a little dirt on your face."
"Thank you." You smiled brightly at her and patted the ground in the pot.
"No problem, cutie." She kissed the tip of your nose and you flushed surprised.
Yes, taking gardening as a hobby was such a good idea.
5. Physical Touch
Hayato Suou - handholding anywhere and everywhere, no matter who sees it
The most surprising thing about Suou after you started dating him was his touchiness. To say that this characteristic of your seemingly stoic and calm boyfriend shocked you is an understatement.
At the beginning of your relationship you were baffled and so so flustered whenever it happened. Of course, you just weren't used to it and as time passed by you became more confident in sharing physical contact with Suou.
You took every chance you got to cuddle with him on the couch, be it studying or drinking some new tea, and you especially loved holding hands with him or just playing with his fingers.
Now, the only thing you were still trying to get used to was PDA. You were still quite hesitant to show off your relationship, especially in front of big crowds but somehow you found yourself marching through the street hand in hand with Suou.
He was talking about this new tea blend that he bought and promised to make it for you as soon as you got back and you smiled at him saying thanks.
Suddenly your talk got cut off by some strangers that came to you.
"Hello, we are doing some street interviews in English and were wondering if you'd like to answer some questions." The girl pointed at the camera as she spoke to you.
Seeing that you instantly tried to let go of Suou hand and hide in embarrassment but he just chuckled at you and tightened the grip on your hand.
"Sure, no problem." He said confidently and you hit his biceps.
"Suou, why?" You whined and he patted your head with his free hand before turning back to the girl.
"So let's start." She switched to English and you tried to hide behind Suou but you only got to partially stand behind his left side while you became flustered at the thought of people on the internet seeing you.
Answering question after question Suou tried to include you too and when you got nervous he would caress your hand with his thumb while holding it tightly.
As soon as you finished and said bye to the two strangers you pulled on his hand and continued towards his home.
"You did really good, darling." He said leaning towards you and placed a quick kiss on your cheek making you shiver at the contact and you quickly hid your smile behind your free hand.
#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader#wind breaker#wind breaker x reader#haruka sakura x reader#kyotaro sugishita x reader#taiga tsugeura x reader#mitsuki kiryu x reader#akihiko nirei x reader#hayato suou x reader#kotoha tachibana x reader
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These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)
Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.
16.5k
Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol
Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.
-----
He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.
It was foul…
It was taboo…
It was…..
Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.
Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.
Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.
There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.
That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.
Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.
You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?
You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.
Writer’s block was a bitch.
Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.
Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.
You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.
‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.
When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.
Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.
When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.
The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.
Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.
He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.
Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.
The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.
You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”
Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.
You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.
“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”
It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.
He then turned to face the window again.
You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.
Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.
You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”
You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.
The front door was opening.
Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.
The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.
His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.
“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”
Time stood still.
Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.
Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.
The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.
There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.
No one can be in two places at once.
What the fuck was going on?
You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.
Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.
“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.
“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.
“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”
You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”
Your boyfriend’s face dropped.
“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”
You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”
“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.
Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”
Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”
You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.
Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.
“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”
He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”
“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”
Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.
“Which isn’t possible!”
“Go look then!” You relented.
Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.
He found no such person.
It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.
“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”
You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”
“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”
You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”
Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”
That was the first incident.
—
Dinner that night was a tense affair.
At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.
He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.
Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.
Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.
Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.
And just like that your first couple fight was over.
Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.
You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.
You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.
You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.
And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?
It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.
You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.
It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.
–
A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.
I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.
Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.
Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.
Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.
You and Taehyung have been off too.
There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.
Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.
Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.
Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.
Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.
You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.
You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.
Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.
Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.
Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?
You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.
You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.
He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”
You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”
“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”
You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.
He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”
Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”
You just nodded and left him to his work.
Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.
Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.
Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.
You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.
It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.
You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.
“What’s that?”
He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”
You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”
Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.
“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what?”
He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”
You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”
“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”
A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”
Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.
You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.
“What did you put in this?”
“Oh just some cinnamon and-”
“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.
“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.
“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”
Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”
“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”
“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.
“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.
Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”
“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”
Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”
“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”
His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”
You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.
You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.
Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.
You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.
“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.
“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.
You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.
Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.
A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.
Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(
Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.
That was the second incident.
–
“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”
The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”
You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.
“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.
You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.
Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”
“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”
“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.
“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”
She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”
Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”
“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.
“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.
“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.
“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”
You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”
“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”
“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”
“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”
“Yes.”
A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”
“None.”
“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.
You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”
“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”
“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.
“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.
“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.
“Yeah, maybe.”
–
Mom: Look what I found!
The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.
A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”
The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.
The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”
The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”
The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”
“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.
“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.
The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.
While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.
Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.
Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.
You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.
Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.
Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.
The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.
The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.
He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”
You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”
“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”
You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”
“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.
The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.
You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”
Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”
You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”
“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.
You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.
You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.
Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”
You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”
“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.
The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.
You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.
Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.
His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.
As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.
A tug at your clothes.
Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”
Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.
It sounded like a…bang?
From somewhere deep within the house.
It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.
Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.
“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.
You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.
Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.
But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.
This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.
Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.
But nothing ever came.
Your worry grew tenfold.
The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.
‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’
Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’
At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.
Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.
“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.
“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?
You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.
Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.
The easel held a half-done canvas.
It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.
It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.
It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.
If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.
“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.
You didn’t even know what to say.
All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.
It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.
Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.
You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.
Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.
“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”
You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”
Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”
“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.
He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.
Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.
You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.
But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.
Then, he spoke.
“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”
It wasn’t a question.
He knew.
He believed you now.
–
It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.
You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.
Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.
You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.
Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.
You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.
Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.
Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.
Your boyfriend was understandably furious.
For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.
You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.
One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.
“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.
You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”
The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.
“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”
“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.
“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”
“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”
“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”
“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”
You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”
Taehyung didn’t say anything.
It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.
Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.
Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.
Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.
You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.
Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.
No one was there.
When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.
A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.
Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.
It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.
The sage didn’t work.
–
Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.
Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.
Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.
The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.
You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.
“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.
He followed you wordlessly to the car.
The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.
You both were still angry at each other.
Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.
The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.
You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.
If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.
You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.
He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.
“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.
“Fine. What do you want me to get?”
“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible
He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.
You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.
“Y/n?”
The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.
No way.
It can’t be…
You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.
Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.
“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”
You managed a wry smile.
Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.
But hey, who was counting?
“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”
The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.
“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”
You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”
He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.
“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”
Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”
“Y/n.”
A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.
Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.
“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.
You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.
“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”
The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.
A pregnant pause hung in the air.
“So…how long have you two been together?”
Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.
“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.
“Oh, um, this is Molly.”
“His girlfriend! And you two are?”
“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”
“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.
Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.
“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”
“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”
“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”
You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.
From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.
Even, right?
Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.
You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.
When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.
The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.
You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.
Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.
Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.
You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.
“What is it?”
Taehyung didn’t answer.
You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.
It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.
“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”
–
If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.
The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.
Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.
Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.
“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.
“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”
“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”
Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.
You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”
She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”
“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”
At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”
“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”
You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.
Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.
Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.
If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.
You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.
“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.
You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.
Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.
Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.
Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”
You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.
“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.
Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”
You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.
You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.
It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.
But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.
And it was almost as if Jimin never left.
You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.
“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.
Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”
“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”
“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.
You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.
Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.
You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.
Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”
Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.
When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.
“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”
“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.
“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.
“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”
She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”
You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.
“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”
“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.
A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.
Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.
–
The clock was nearing midnight.
Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.
Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.
“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”
“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”
“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”
“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.
Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.
You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”
Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.
“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.
You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.
Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.
“Yes, handsome?”
His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”
“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”
He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.
Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”
You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”
“Damn, trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”
“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”
You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.
When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.
“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.
“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”
“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”
He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”
“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.
She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.
He blushed, “Thank you.”
“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”
Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”
You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.
You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.
Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.
Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.
Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.
Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.
And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.
The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.
When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.
Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.
A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.
Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.
The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”
Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.
The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.
“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”
“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”
Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.
“Ghost?” Jin laughed.
“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.
“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.
At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.
“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”
Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”
Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.
An awkward silence.
“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”
She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.
“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”
She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.
“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”
A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.
“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.
Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”
You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.
But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.
If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.
Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.
Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.
You felt even more cold.
“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.
You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.
You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.
“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.
Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.
You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”
“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.
The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”
Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.
Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”
Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”
“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.
The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.
Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”
You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”
He tiled your head to make you face him.
Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.
It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.
You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.
Black and white, really.
‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.
“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.
“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.
The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”
“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”
He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.
You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”
That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.
With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.
Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“So….”
“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.
Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”
You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”
You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.
It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.
“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”
“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”
“I broke up with Molly.”
“…What?”
“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.
You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.
He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”
“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”
“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”
You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”
“No.”
You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.
How did he get there without being spotted or heard?
It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.
“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”
Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”
“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”
“Please, Taehyung-”
You were cut off.
His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”
The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.
In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.
No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.
You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.
Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.
And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.
How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?
“Hey what’s going on here?”
Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.
You felt your body lighten in relief.
Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.
Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”
Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”
Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.
He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.
Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.
What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!
Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?
You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.
If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.
Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.
About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.
You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.
Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.
“So…that got a little out of hand.”
You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."
“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”
“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”
“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”
A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”
You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.
“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”
“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.
He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”
“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Done.”
“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”
He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”
“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”
His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”
You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”
“…anything else?”
“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”
He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.
Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.
Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?
If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…
Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.
You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?
Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.
You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.
A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.
“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”
He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.
“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”
You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding.
“Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight baby.”
“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.
You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.
Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.
Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.
The light under the basement door…it was on?
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
It couldn’t be….could it?
Your intuition was hollering at you from within.
A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.
Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…
And choked back a horrified scream.
At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.
Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.
It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.
So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)
#yandere bts#yandere taehyung#bts taehyung#kim taehyung#taehyung x reader#bts fic#bts x reader#yandere au#bts#bangtan boys#male yandere#taehyung fanfic#yandere taehyung x reader#kpop fanfic#taehyung fluff#yandere imagines#yandere fanfiction
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Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 2
Part 2 - Anya's "Anya-isms"
I think Anya has one of the most interesting ways of speaking out of all the SxF characters. But like with Twilight's dialogue that I previously discussed, it can only be fully appreciated in the Japanese version. Probably the most noticeable thing about her dialogue is how it's written compared to the other characters.
Written Japanese is comprised of three different alphabets: ひらがな (hiragana) and カタカナ (katakana), which together are referred to as "kana," and 漢字 (kanji). Kanji are the characters that hold the meaning of words, while kana simply represent the various Japanese syllable sounds and don't have any meaning on their own (much like the letters of the English alphabet). There are only about 100-ish total unique kana symbols, however, there are over 2,000 kanji in common use today. So Japanese children will start out learning kana and then learn kanji gradually during their school years. This is why Japanese children's books are typically written only or mostly in kana. This is also why manga and books aimed at a younger audience will have kana "translations" of kanji written above kanji characters, which are called furigana.
With that in mind, it's not surprising that all of Anya's dialogue in the Japanese version of the SxF manga is written entirely in kana. Even though using kanji in her dialogue wouldn't necessarily mean she knows kanji, reading a character's dialogue only in kana definitely gives off childish vibes – it conveys feelings of youthfulness and innocence, like "they're speaking only in kana because they don't know the kanji for these words…they're just a little kid, after all." At least, that's the feeling I get when I read Anya's dialogue. Though I haven't read enough manga in Japanese to say for sure, it seems like this concept of making little kids speak only in kana is not unusual, as there's at least one other example I know of: a manga from the mid-2000s called Yotsuba also has a titular 5-year old whose dialogue is written only in kana.
What's also interesting is that all of the other Eden kids speak "normally," using kana and kanji properly in their dialogue. This helps to convey the fact that, despite Anya being roughly the same age as them, their "rich family" upbringing has forced them to grow up faster. In the below panel, you can see how Damian's dialogue uses kanji (with furigana translations) while Anya's uses only kana, even for words that have kanji.
Interestingly, I found at least two cases where Anya does use kanji in her dialogue: when she's calling out the name of her big "Arrow of Light, Seize the Star" move during the dodgeball game, and when she calls out her "Lighting Bolt, Deliver my Aid" move when she tries to throw Yor's weapon back on the deck in the cruise arc. As you can see in the below panels, the names of these "moves" is written in kanji (with furigana translations). This makes sense not only because this is parodying shonen series where the characters shout out the names of their moves, but because it emphasizes how determined Anya was at these moments.
But going back to how Anya's speech compares to the other kids, another thing that stands out is that she speaks very "plainly." Her grammar is (mostly) correct, except for a few mistakes you'd expect a little kid to make. But she uses pretty much no colloquialisms, almost as if she knows the language but lacks the experience for using it in normal social interactions. I don't think this is unusual for a kid her age who's still learning, but it definitely stands out when compared to her classmates. For example, in the below panel, Becky uses normal interjections and other colloquialisms in her speech, like "ne" (ね), "wa" (わ), and "yo" (よ), which are all standard Japanese linguistic devices for softening or emphasizing your sentences. However, Anya doesn't use things like this in her speech. Again, this makes her speech come off as very plain and abrupt, almost like she's not a native speaker.
She also refers to herself in third person all the time in the Japanese version. In fact, I don't recall her ever using an "I" or "me" pronoun. I don't know why the English version of the manga doesn't keep this characteristic of her speech. I think it's very important in highlighting the childish aspect of her personality.
Putting all this together – the fact that she doesn't use typical colloquial speech and refers to herself in third person – really emphasizes the childish, naive, and almost baby-like nature of her character. I'm curious if Endo made her speak this way simply to show what a little kid she is compared to her classmates, or if it will somehow tie back to whatever roots she has in classical languages that he keeps hinting at. Regardless, as I mentioned in my full Anya analysis, what she lacks in speech and school smarts, she makes up for in empathy and resourcefulness.
Besides all this, Anya does make typical speech mistakes a normal kid would make, like mishearing words or saying things wrong. She mostly uses casual speech, but does try to use keigo (polite speech) on occasion, though not always correctly. For example, she says "ohayaimasu" (おはやいます) for "good morning" instead of "ohaiyou gozaimasu" (おはようございます).
But the most consistent "mistake" she makes (though it's not really a mistake) is what she calls Loid and Yor – "chichi" (ちち) and "haha" (はは) respectively.
Japanese has many different words for relatives depending on whether you're talking about your own relatives or someone else's, and whether you're talking to them or about them. "Chichi" and "haha" are the general, neutral terms for "father" and "mother," and are also used when talking about your parents to someone else. However, they're not used when talking directly to your mother and father. There are many other words for that, the usual ones being "o-tou-san" (お父さん) and "o-kaa-san" (お母さん), or some variations of these with different honorifics. Damian refers to his dad as "chichi-ue" (父上) which is very formal, while Becky calls her dad the actual English word "papa" (パパ) which is very informal and normal for kids to use. But again, "chichi" and "haha" are typically only used when talking about your parents, not to them the way Anya uses them. This started from the very first chapter where Loid asks her to call him something that sounds "elite." He originally suggests the very formal "o-tou-sama" (お父さま), but when Anya says "chichi," he doesn't bother to correct her.
Hearing a little kid call her dad and mom "chichi" and "haha" is kind of like calling them "my father" and "my mother" even when speaking to them directly – it's not wrong necessarily, just strange. But again, this serves to further emphasize the childlike nature of Anya's character.
<- Return to Part 1
Continue to Part 3 ->
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One of the more frequent anecdotes you'll hear from Dungeons & Dragons podcasters is that any time they switch to a system other than D&D, even for a one-off arc, they immediately experience a large drop in listenership – sometimes up to eighty percent! – only to see most of those listeners come back once they switch back to D&D.
What's interesting about this is that the greater part of D&D podcast listeners do not play Dungeons & Dragons. They might have a general idea of what the game's rules look like based on what they've been able to passively absorb from listening to the podcast, but they don't have regular groups, they don't own the rulebooks or maintain subscriptions to the e-book service, and many of them have never rolled a d20 in their lives.
How, then, do we account for that sudden drop in listenership? Why does which system a tabletop roleplaying podcast is using matter so much if most listeners neither know nor care about the rules?
The answer is, unfortunately, quite simple.
In many ways, advocacy for indie RPGs has never moved past Ron Edwards' infamous argument that playing Dungeons & Dragons causes actual, physical brain damage. Deep down, a lot of indie RPG advocacy seems to believe there's something sinister in the structure of D&D that's responsible for what they regard as its unaccountable popularity. You can see this in everything from the casual assumption that D&D players aren't "really" having fun (and all that's needed to convert them to other systems is to show them they've been tricked into falsely believing they're enjoying an objectively un-fun activity), to the rambling thinkpieces that talk about getting folks to try other games like they're liberating people from the fucking Matrix.
Yet we come back to the same problem: how can the mechanical structure of D&D be implicated for its culturally dominant position in the minds of those who've never picked up a twenty-sided die?
The truth is that Dungeons & Dragons enjoys cultural dominance, both within the hobby and elsewhere, because it's owned by the same multinational corporation that owns Monopoly and My Little Pony, and benefits from all the marketing strength its owner can bring to bear. The problem, in brief, is brand loyalty. The aforementioned podcasts lose listeners in droves whenever they give a non-D&D system a spin because all most of those departing listeners care about is whether the thing that they're listening to is called "Dungeons & Dragons". The structural particulars of the mechanics are irrelevant.
The bitter pill we've got to swallow as indie RPG authors is that we can't fix brand loyalty in tabletop RPGs by fucking around with the shape of the dice. There are lots of productive causes we can support to help address the problem, but they mostly have do to with intellectual property and antitrust regulations and such, which are areas where our finely honed ability to debate the correct way to pretend to be an elf is of very limited utility.
Like, I enjoy an abstruse argument about the ideology of dice-rolling as much as the next nerd, but let's not fool ourselves that we're speaking truth to power here. The gamer who just wants to roll dice to hit the dragon with their sword is not your enemy.
#gaming#tabletop roleplaying#tabletop rpgs#dungeons & dragons#d&d#hasbro#marketing#capitalism#violence mention#swearing
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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good girl
re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader
— a oneshot
warnings: MDNI, 18+, inappropriate use of handcuffs, unprotected sex, use of nicknames (babygirl, baby, etc), praise, porn with literally no plot, mentions of raccoon city & leon being a lil rookie, reader has hair that can be tugged on but no other physical appearance mentioned, use of female pronouns (she/her), established relationship.
“she smirks at the handcuffs, “never been arrested before…” she says with a small chuckle as she swings the handcuffs around her finger, looking up at him. “not those kinds of handcuffs, babygirl.” he says with a small grin, looking over her face as her smirk stalls a little bit. letting herself realize what he really meant, her mouth becoming dry. she was deep in it now.”
—or reader finds leon’s handcuffs and he shows her what he uses them for
when she met leon, it was hard for her to believe that he even looked her direction. not because she wasn’t his type, he loved any kind of woman, no matter how she looked.
she was just not use to someone who looked the way he did to talk to her, or even ask for her phone number. it was bizarre in her eyes, like hell had frozen over in the best way possible.
she knew he was different from other guys right from the get go, he opened the car door for her and payed for her meals. he held respect for her in the way that most men hadn’t.
and it made her like him much more then she anticipated.
they continued to go on dates, hang out at each others places and then eventually they had sex.
she had never had a guy…who felt and gave like leon did. he would gladly go down on her, no questions asked. he ate her out like she was a meal, making her back arch and her hands fist at his hair.
no man had ever made her feel like that before.
he shared everything with her, what he did before and why he was here in the city. he even shared some of his embarrassing stories from when he was a kid. they talked about everything.
and as time grew on and they became more serious, leon asked her if she wanted to move in together. get a place and be in one spot, which made her happy, but she had never lived with a man that wasn’t family before and it did make her a bit nervous at first.
leon reassured her that everything would be fine though, he knew how nervous she was. he could read her like a book after all the months they had been together.
and she said yes, which led to her packing all of her one bedroom apartment into boxes. stuffing clothes into garbage bags and dismantling furniture. she was stressed but it was definitely worth it at the end of the day.
this led her to now, currently moving all her boxes into their new place together. she was sweaty, exhausted and stressed but she had the biggest smile on her face and nothing could take that away.
she was finally in her own place with leon, nothing could be better.
“settling in? i just moved all my shit in two days ago, haven’t unpacked a single thing.” he says with a wipe of his forehead with his bicep as he walks into their practically empty kitchen.
she chuckled, “yeah, all my stuff is scattered around. i have to go pick up the furniture that i’m keeping tomorrow. didn’t have enough energy to get to it today.” she says as she sips on her plastic water bottle that she brought with her, moving some hair out of her eyes.
he smiles at her and comes over, wrapping his arms around her waist. “it’s all worth it though right?” she hears him mumble into her ear, pressing a small kiss on the shell of it. she bites her lip, trying to fight back a stupid lovesick grin, “yeah, definitely.” she says softly as she looks over her shoulder and up at him.
he was worth it, the stress of packing and unpacking was definitely worth it. being with him was worth it, all of it was. she wouldn’t trade it for anything, no matter how stressed and strung out she was right now. nothing could beat the look on her face.
leon could see that.
“do you wanna try unpacking the bedroom first? i already built the bed.” he says with a small smirk into her hair, holding onto her waist with hands that could easily crush her, but didn’t. she fights another grin, “mhm…” she hums.
they unpack the bedroom, what they can of it. she becomes exhausted after about 10 boxes. moving was clearly not her favorite task, that was apparent.
if anything she despised it, but she’d do anything for him. even if it meant packing her entire apartment into boxes just for him. she’d do just about anything for him. even this.
he sighs and looks at her, “you feeling okay?” he asks softly as he rubs his hand over her shoulder. she sighs and nods, rubbing at her eyes. “i’m just tired. today was a lot. i just…moving has never been fun.” she says with a weak smile as she looks up at him next to her.
he nods, chuckling, his hand still squeezing and rubbing at her shoulders. “but you like it right?” he asks with a teasing raise of his brow. she grins; lovesick just by his eyes on hers. “absolutely.” she responds without hesitation.
“good, thought i had something to worry about baby.” he says with a small laugh, moving to grab the last box of the bed. it was his, the messy scrawl of his handwriting on the side was barely legible. she laughs softly and sits on the side of the bed, watching him tear open the cardboard box with ease.
she looks at the decor of their room, the black iron headboard and large queen bed that had dark green sheets and a duvet to match, their photos and books, little knickknacks from life spread together throughout the room. she really was home with him.
it sunk into her exhausted bones that moment as she looks over at him, watching him unpack stuff from the box. “what’s in there?” she asks with a small looking from the box label to him.
he sighs and lifts out a picture frame, showing her a picture of him. he was definitely younger in the picture, maybe 21. he was in his police uniform, smiling widely at the camera. she smiles softly, “aww! look at you!” she says with a teasing smile as she moves over on the bed and towards the box.
she knew he was a cop at one point in his life. something unfortunate happened that made him disband from that and go to his current job. he never really spoke of it, saying that he couldn’t technically. she didn’t mind, she knew he was only following orders and doing what he needed to.
he rolls his eyes, “i wasn’t expecting that much of a reaction.” he says with a small blow of his lips. handing the framed picture towards her. she takes it and traces her fingers over the frame. “how could i not? you looked so cute in your little uniform!” she says with a small giggle as she showcases the photo in his direction again.
he rolls his eyes again, “shut up.” he chuckles lowly as he continues to pull stuff out of the box. loving his girlfriends teasing on the matter, he would agree that he was cute back in his day. back when he was a bright eyed cop, eager to protect and serve. but he had no idea what was in store from him that day in ‘98 when he went to raccoon city.
he pulls out his uniform, the spare one that they gave him to commemorate his service to the force when he first graduated the academy, holding it in his hands. a myriad of emotions crosses over his eyes and she doesn’t miss it.
“you miss it?” she says with a small curious expression over her face. her tone gentle as she analyzes the mixed look over his face. he sighs, “i only did it for one day, but i miss the idea of it.” he says as he glances over at her on the bed.
she nods in understanding, “i’m sorry, honey. i really am. i know what it’s like…in a sense to have something that you wanted ripped away from you.” she says softly as hers brows dip in sympathy. “i don’t know what happened,” she pauses and takes a small breath. “but whatever did happen that day. doesn’t mean that you aren’t still that person inside.” she whispers softly.
he smiles at her, so grateful that even if she doesn’t fully understand. she’s willing to try for him. he knows that, knows how caring, loving and understanding she is. she’s been that way since they started dating.
he dug into the box again, pulling out some handcuffs and holding them up. “i forgot all about these.” he says with a small smirk as he looks over at her. she tilts her head and her eyebrows furrow, “they’re just handcuffs…” she says with a small chuckle.
he shakes his head, “we got two pairs of them. i used one for my uniform and my other pair…these pair of handcuffs i used personally.” he says with a small smirk as he holds them up.
“personally?” she says in confusion, the dots weren’t connecting in her brain and she had no idea what he was even talking about. “i used them on the girls i dated before you.” he says as he holds up the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger with ease.
they were just a normal pair of handcuffs, normal metal ones that looked like anything a police officer would carry. that was until the dots connected and her eyes widened, realization dawning on her when she figured out what he truly meant by using the handcuffs.
her cheeks flushed red, her wide eyes blinking at him from where she sat on the bed. “really? i didn’t know you were into that.” she says and it’s not all shock, it’s curiosity and something else entirely.
he chuckles lowly, he sets the handcuffs on the bed. then moves the half empty moving box off the bed. “i am, i haven’t done it in a long time. haven’t been willing to find someone to try it again with.” he says with a small tilt of his head as he runs his fingers over the clasp of the handcuffs.
she doesn’t know what within her makes her open her mouth and say, “i’d try it with you.” she says softly as she looks at the large pads of his fingers running over the metal surface of them. as if he’s in contemplation, he looks up at her. “really? you’d be handcuffed, wouldn’t be able to touch me and i know how you like to touch me.” he says with a small quirk of his lips.
his eyes gleaming with something predatory and exciting, igniting her bones into flames. her core throbbing as she shifted on the bed under his gaze. she tucks some hair behind her ear. “yeah…” she breathes slowly, “i’d do it.”
he smirks and shakes his head, chuckling. “are you sure? you seriously wanna go down that road, baby?” he says with a grin, still holding the handcuffs in his hands. hands that could swallow her whole and easily break her in half, she feels her core throb again. that familiar feeling resurfaces in her underwear.
she nods slowly, licking her lips. she felt saliva leave her throat. she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to try it. wanted to give him what he wanted. he nods slowly and gestures to her clothes. “strip.” he says with a small demand, not even a question. something she can’t even argue against if she wanted to.
she slid off of the bed under his gaze, as she strips off her clothes one by one until she was completely bare. he feels himself get harder at everything that’s transpiring right in front of his eyes. her naked for him has never failed to make him hard, make him want to devour her whole and take her.
he goes over to the half unpacked box on the floor and gets the keys for the handcuffs, unlocking them and walking back to where she stood on the opposite side of the bed, waiting for him. he licks his lips, unlocking the handcuffs with a small clink.
she feels her arousal pooling between her legs at his gaze, blue deep pools of his irises that are almost dark with lust. he sweeps his eyes over her bare frame in front of him, “turn around, baby.” he says softly and lowly at the same time.
the gruff of his voice making her erupt in goosebumps as she turns around, putting her hands behind her back without him even having to ask. he chuckles lowly, “eager to be handcuffed, very naughty babygirl.” he hums lowly as he clamps the handcuffs around her wrists, locking them and making sure they fit comfortably around her wrists.
she feels his words wash over her, feeling the cold metal clink over her wrists behind her back, the cold feeling making a shiver crawl up her spine. he backs up, licking his lips from behind her, admiring her handcuffed and naked.
she can feel his eyes boring into the skin of her back, making her bite her lip. her core was throbbing for him, wanting him more then anything. the exciting prospect of what was to come seeped through her pussy.
he strips off his shirt and pants, tossing them to the floor by her clothes on the floor. she swallows as she hears each drop of his clothes to the floor behind her, her heartbeat accelerating in her bones as he drops his boxers.
he was just as bare as her now, he takes a couple steps closer and leans over her back, running his fingers over her stomach from behind. “all naked and dripping for me baby, i can practically smell it on you.” he says lowly as his hot breath drifts over her neck.
she swallows and her eyes flutter open and shut, “i’ll tell you what’s going to happen now, okay?” he says softly, his voice was so familiar yet raspy and full of desire for her. she nods slowly as he presses a kiss to her neck, making her bite her lip. if she bit it any harder blood would draw from the anticipation.
“your gonna get on the bed, bend over and i’m going to fuck you until your crying on my cock. sound good?” he says with a small raspy chuckle as she draws his fingers from her stomach up to her breast, lightly squeezing it. a small whine escapes from her lips as she nods. he presses another kiss to her neck, he motions for her to do what he says.
she manages to crawl onto the bed, it was more difficult without her hands. he grabs a pillow and puts it under her hips keeping her somewhat comfortable and propped up. her cheek pressed into the new sheets that covered their bed.
she feels the bed dip with his weight as he kneels behind her on the bed, running his large hand over the dip in her ass. his dick was standing at attention now, hard and leaking precum as he grabs it.
she wiggles her ass a little in his direction, “please leon, cmon.” she whines as she tries to get some kind of friction from the pillow underneath her hips. he chuckles lowly, running his hand slowly over his shaft, “patience babygirl.” he says with a small squeeze of her ass, she whimpers softly
he lets go of his cock and runs his fingers into her leaking core, putting two fingers inside of her to stretch her out. he always did this before, just to get her ready for him. no matter how many times they had sex, she still was never prepared for his size.
she moans softly into the duvet cover on their bed, trying to push back against the two fingers stretching her out. “please…” she whines as she tries to pull at the handcuffs, her pussy swallowing his fingers as he stretched her out.
“you’ll get it, like i said, patience baby. i don’t wanna hurt you.” he says in a low tone as he kneads her ass with his free hand. she whimpers and clenches around his fingers, her arousal sucking his fingers into her entrance. he continues to knead her ass and stretch her out, “sucking my fingers in princess, jesus.” he says in a small groan.
she whimpers at his words, trying to chase his fingers again but he pulls them out and she sighs at the loss. he chuckles at her small sigh, “i’m sure you’d rather cum on my cock, right?” he says with a small little smack to her ass cheek he was kneading.
she nods into the duvet her face is half buried in, her wrists aching a little from the handcuffs. he sighed softly, “don’t worry princess, i’ll give it to you. give you anything you want.” he says with a small smirk on his angelic features.
he grabs his cock and runs it through her soaked slit, whimpering trying to get friction against the head of his cock. the tip hitting her clit a couple times, making her bones ache and her core pulse.
“so wet and needy, just needed some dick.” he says in a mocking tone as he lets out a half groan, his hard erection covered in her release. she felt her pussy throb and her hole clench around nothing at his words, “well, here you go baby.” she heard him say before he shoved himself into her soaking entrance.
she moaned loudly, her body automatically reacting. she felt so full of him, her bones in her center accommodating him and his size. she felt her bones in her wrists ache as he kept one of his large hands steady on her ass, letting her get adjusted before he started moving.
“breathe, baby.” he says in a soft but low rasp of his voice from behind her. she nodded and did as she was told, breathing in and out slowly, trying to think about anything else other than the sheer size of how he stretched her out.
“good girl.” he praised when he saw her take some deep breaths. he saw her relax a little as her hips adjusted on the pillow that propped her up. he slowly flexed his hips back and pushed in a little, starting to slowly thrust.
she released small noises into the duvet on their bed, tugging at her wrists on the handcuffs. he eventually started to pick up his pace, a little faster as he grabbed onto her handcuffed wrists behind her back and tugged her up.
she gasped, him still fully sheathed inside of her. her back was now pressed to his chest, her knees shadowing his on the bed. he held one hand on her stomach and another on her breast, kneading slowly as he began thrusting deeper at this new angle.
she moaned loudly and canted her head back, tears welling in her eyes, “leon…” she moaned as she felt her hands form fists behind her back. his hands keeping her steady as he fucked into her from behind, his his snapping against her ass. “good girl…” he groans into her ear, “fuck…so fucking…god—tight…christ.” he manages to get out between moans and groans that escaped his lips.
his touch to her chest and his words, she felt that familiar feeling bubble in her lower belly. “harder…” she whined as she tried to move against her handcuffs on her wrists. he obliged, bending her back over the pillow and putting his hands on her hips, snapping into her with such force that their bed shook.
her eyes went crossed and she felt tears leak out of her eyes, almost drooling on the sheets as moans leaked from her mouth. chants of his name, curses and screams of pleasure. sex with him never disappointed, ever.
“gonna…cum…” she managed to get out in between the cries of pleasure and the sound of his hips against her ass. he just kept pounding into her, like a wild animal. she pulled at the handcuffs on her wrists again, clenching her fists as she felt herself becoming closer and closer to the end.
“cum for me, princess. scream my name.” he says lowly as he keeps snapping his hips, making curses fall from their mouths in a chant. he could feel himself getting closer, his hips starting to stutter but so determined to deliver what she needed.
she felt the blissful end, her eyes fluttering shut and then lined with tears. “leon!” she screamed as she came, releasing all over his cock as she melted into the mattress. the clenching of her around him, her walls sucking him in was enough for him to release a low groan, “princess…”
his end came too, shooting thick ropes of cum into her womb, painting her walls white with him. she could feel him filling her up, feeling so dazed and full. just so satisfied that her body and arms felt like jelly.
he breathed heavily as he reached away on the bed, grabbing the handcuff keys, unlocking the handcuffs and tossing them on the floor by their clothes. she felt her arms collapse down to the mattress.
he pulled out of her, their mixed fluids leaking out of her. he leaned down a ways on the bed and licked the dripping fluids from her entrance, causing her to shiver and her thighs to tremble a little from her intense orgasm.
“you did so good, so fucking good baby. c’mere.” he says softly as he leaned back and moved to the headboard. she weakly raised her body from the kneeling position on the bed, moving her shaking and sweaty body to lay beside him.
he wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her sweaty hairline. his hands rubbing up and down her spine. “so proud of you.” he whispers into her hair. she smiles lazily as she looks up at him from her head on his shoulder.
she blushes from his praise, the tiredness from the day of moving and the sex sweeping over her. “sleep now, we’ll deal with all the other shit tomorrow.” he says calmly, running a hand through her hair and holding her naked body close to his.
and she did, her eyes fluttering shut. his heartbeat against her ear pulling her into sleep. their heartbeats in sync as they held each other, promising not to let go.
taglist: @heartsforvin
an: hope you guys enjoyed, please interact if u did :,) my asks and requests are open in my bio. my taglist and masterlist are linked at the beginning if u wanna interact. i love you all sm <33 kisses, xx
#leon kennedy#leon x reader#re2 leon#leon kennedy smut#re4 remake#leon kennedy au#re2 remake#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy x reader#re4 leon#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon kennedy x y/n
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x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ
in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.
warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae
a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!
you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.
yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.
“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question.
“i know. i can see your suitcases.”
he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.
“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.
still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”
softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.
he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”
“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?”
“can i just come in?”
the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”
“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”
“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”
“-i love you.”
the world stills.
the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos.
but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.
“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”
in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning.
“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?”
instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in.
“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches.
he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.
sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence.
sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you.
“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.
the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.
“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart.
“stop it.”
somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”
“sae-”
“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”
with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”
“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.”
“you’ll hurt me again.”
“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”
you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”
“rin will, then.”
you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”
he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you.
he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.
but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him.
everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.
but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him.
“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.
“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”
“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”
between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them.
“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”
a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.
something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#sae x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae#bllk x reader#blue lock fluff#sae fluff#itoshi sae fluff#sae itoshi x reader#blue lock
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Random Captain John Price headcanons
sfw and nsfw
pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, masturbation, spanking, hickeys, Price is an ass-man
a/n: inspired by a conversation I had with @melancholyy-hill and just some random thoughts, might do a second part to this, tell me if you want any other characters
John Price MASTERLIST
sfw
-Price has two phones, one for work and a private one, he doesn't like using the same one when he's deployed in countries where there's definitely a chance of it getting hijacked
-he's so tidy, like having a surroundings to calm his mind, make it easier to concentrate for him
-he's also pretty strict with his own cleanliness
-don't get me wrong, Price doesn't mind getting dirty on the field and in bed, would be weird if he did lol, but once at home or base, he takes care of himself
-we talking beard oil, grooming, trimming his nails if they got jagged during deployment and picking out the dirt from beneath them
-not that he dislikes showing you off in public, on the opposite he loves having you by his side, showing others you're his, but he gets uneasy with PDA
-that's why he's such an old-fashioned gentleman with showing you affection around people, those small gestures that make women swoon and telling you that you're found 'a good one, god you're so lucky'
-hand on the small of your back in a crowd is a must, palm resting on your knee when sitting down, you walk on the side furthest from the road, standing/walking behind you on the escalator or stars if you're wearing a skirt, kisses to your hand, temple, forehead or crown
-he always does the bed in the mornings despite you being the one who wakes up last
nsfw below the cut
-he's such a fucking ass man, like he appreciates boobs, thinks your nipples look good poking through a shirt or deliciously teasing in lingerie, but he prefers your ass
-like this man's hand is drawn to the plush flesh of your rear like magnets, just like his eyes
-back turned? eyes down, staring at ass.
-don't get him started at how he folds when watching it jiggle in doggy style or reversed cowgirl
-lowkey struggles not to blatantly stare or grab at you when you're in public and the pants/leggings you're trying on make it look too fucking good for his health
-sometimes you can just be relaxing, laying on your stomach and he comes up from behind, kneading your ass, swatting it to watch it jiggle
-other times, he pulls you on top of him, resting a book against your ass as he reads, one of his hands always groping you, you simply prop a pillow on his legs to get comfortable as you'd gotten used to this request of his
- you've stopped counting the times he'd put down his book and started parting your asscheeks as he massages your rear, in the end Price can't help how his thumb rubs the folds of your covered pussy
-if he gets to know you don't mind spanking, it's over, the man swats your ass constantly around the house,
-he thinks your gasps are adorable as you shoot him a look he ignores bc he knows you like it
-does not whine, not a particularly big moaner either, but the grunts and groans is enough to make up for it
-high-sex drive when he's around you, but during deployment he keeps it under wraps, which leads me to...
-not that big of a masturabator, but once in a while he needs to rid himself of the crawling desire in his spine, simply having to jerk one out to be able to concentrate, probs because he thought about you for too long
-BUT he actually really loves mutual masturbation, started when he walked in on you once when returning unexpectedly early from a mission
-'don't mind me, love, continue' he would husk at your wide eyes following him as walked from the bedroom doorframe to the little seating area you had in front of the bed, sometimes used when you did your makeup or Price would read, sitting down and to your surprise pulling down his pant, jerking his already half-hard cock to full length, waiting expectantly
-he puts on a show as well, using two hands, one to stroke himself in matching speed to how you finger yourself, the other cupping and fondling his balls
-would definitely not shy from throwing his head backwards when reaching his sensitive cocked with palms too rough in comparison to your soft ones
- Price is so fucking sly about where he leaves hickeys
-as previously mentioned, he doesn't really like the public attention it pulls, but a primal part of him swells when seeing the marks he's left during your intimate moments, so he definitely likes to give you little lovebites
-so you can bet your ass you could leave the house in a crop-top and they wouldn't be visible, strategically placed where no one but him and you could see them, meaning the line of your panties, on or around your breast, inner thighs, etc
-the beach might be a problem however, you would never forget the time Soap had cackled like a fucking madman when he'd spotted the marks' inconspicuous placement, leaving absolutely no room to guess what Price had done between your legs
#john price#captain john price#john price call of duty#john price x reader#john price x you#john price cod#john price x fem!reader#john price x female reader#task force 141#price cod#cod modern warfare#soap cod#cod mw2#john price smut#john price headcanons#cod headcanons#cod fanfic#cod mw3#cod mwii
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The reason I took interest in AI as an art medium is that I've always been interested in experimenting with novel and unconventional art media - I started incorporating power tools into a lot of my physical processes younger than most people were even allowed to breathe near them, and I took to digital art like a duck to water when it was the big, relatively new, controversial thing too, so really this just seems like the logical next step. More than that, it's exciting - it's not every day that we just invent an entirely new never-before-seen art medium! I have always been one to go fucking wild for that shit.
Which is, ironically, a huge part of why I almost reflexively recoil at how it's used in the corporate world: because the world of business, particularly the entertainment industry, has what often seems like less than zero interest in appreciating it as a novel medium.
And I often wonder how much less that would be the case - and, by extension, how much less vitriolic the discussion around it would be, and how many fewer well-meaning people would be falling for reactionary mythologies about where exactly the problems lie - if it hadn't reached the point of...at least an illusion of commercial viability, at exactly the moment it did.
See, the groundwork was laid in 2020, back during covid lockdowns, when we saw a massive spike in people relying on TV, games, books, movies, etc. to compensate for the lack of outdoor, physical, social entertainment. This was, seemingly, wonderful for the whole industry - but under late-stage capitalism, it was as much of a curse as it was a gift. When industries are run by people whose sole brain process is "line-go-up", tiny factors like "we're not going to be in lockdown forever" don't matter. CEOs got dollar signs in their eyes. Shareholders demanded not only perpetual growth, but perpetual growth at this rate or better. Even though everyone with an ounce of common sense was screaming "this is an aberration, this is not sustainable" - it didn't matter. The business bros refused to believe it. This was their new normal, they were determined to prove -
And they, predictably, failed to prove it.
So now the business bros are in a pickle. They're beholden to the shareholders to do everything within their power to maintain the infinite growth they promised, in a world with finite resources. In fact, by precedent, they're beholden to this by law. Fiduciary duty has been interpreted in court to mean that, given the choice between offering a better product and ensuring maximum returns for shareholders, the latter MUST be a higher priority; reinvesting too much in the business instead of trying to make the share value increase as much as possible, as fast as possible, can result in a lawsuit - that a board member or CEO can lose, and have lost before - because it's not acting in the best interest of shareholders. If that unsustainable explosive growth was promised forever, all the more so.
And now, 2-3-4 years on, that impossibility hangs like a sword of Damocles over the heads of these media company CEOs. The market is fully saturated; the number of new potential customers left to onboard is negligible. Some companies began trying to "solve" this "problem" by violating consumer privacy and charging per household member, which (also predictably) backfired because those of us who live in reality and not statsland were not exactly thrilled about the concept of being told we couldn't watch TV with our own families. Shareholders are getting antsy, because their (however predictably impossible) infinite lockdown-level profits...aren't coming, and someone's gotta make up for that, right? So they had already started enshittifying, making excuses for layoffs, for cutting employee pay, for duty creep, for increasing crunch, for lean-staffing, for tightening turnarounds-
And that was when we got the first iterations of AI image generation that were actually somewhat useful for things like rapid first drafts, moodboards, and conceptualizing.
Lo! A savior! It might as well have been the digital messiah to the business bros, and their eyes turned back into dollar signs. More than that, they were being promised that this...both was, and wasn't art at the same time. It was good enough for their final product, or if not it would be within a year or two, but it required no skill whatsoever to make! Soon, you could fire ALL your creatives and just have Susan from accounting write your scripts and make your concept art with all the effort that it takes to get lunch from a Star Trek replicator!
This is every bit as much bullshit as the promise of infinite lockdown-level growth, of course, but with shareholders clamoring for the money they were recklessly promised, executives are looking for anything, even the slightest glimmer of a new possibility, that just might work as a life raft from this sinking ship.
So where are we now? Well, we're exiting the "fucking around" phase and entering "finding out". According to anecdotes I've read, companies are, allegedly, already hiring prompt engineers (or "prompters" - can't give them a job title that implies there's skill or thought involved, now can we, that just might imply they deserve enough money to survive!)...and most of them not only lack the skill to manually post-process their works, but don't even know how (or perhaps aren't given access) to fully use the software they specialize in, being blissfully unaware of (or perhaps not able/allowed to use) features such as inpainting or img2img. It has been observed many times that LLMs are being used to flood once-reputable information outlets with hallucinated garbage. I can verify - as can nearly everyone who was online in the aftermath of the Glasgow Willy Wonka Dashcon Experience - that the results are often outright comically bad.
To anyone who was paying attention to anything other than please-line-go-up-faster-please-line-go-please (or buying so heavily into reactionary mythologies about why AI can be dangerous in industry that they bought the tech companies' false promises too and just thought it was a bad thing), this was entirely predictable. Unfortunately for everyone in the blast radius, common sense has never been an executive's strong suit when so much money is on the line.
Much like CGI before it, what we have here is a whole new medium that is seldom being treated as a new medium with its own unique strengths, but more often being used as a replacement for more expensive labor, no matter how bad the result may be - nor, for that matter, how unjust it may be that the labor is so much cheaper.
And it's all because of timing. It's all because it came about in the perfect moment to look like a life raft in a moment of late-stage capitalist panic. Any port in a storm, after all - even if that port is a non-Euclidean labyrinth of soggy, rotten botshit garbage.
Any port in a storm, right? ...right?
All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?
#ai art#generated art#generated artwork#essays#about ai#worth a whole 'nother essay is how the tech side exists in a state that is both thriving and floundering at the same time#because the money theyre operating with is in schrodinger's box#at the same time it exists and it doesnt#theyre highly valued but usually operating at a loss#that is another MASSIVE can of worms and deserves its own deep dive
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