#[[ i forgot how whimsically he writes sometimes ]] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milksnake-tea · 3 months ago

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Dunno if you've ever answered an ask like this before, but do you mind telling us about your mutuals?

Rather, their writing styles and how they interact (No pressure if this sounds like I'm intruding on a boundary or something, I've noticed that you reblog a lot of works and I'm trying to find more fic writers from HSR and Genshin to support, but sometimes it feels a little scary 😅)

HELP NO IT'S OKAY !!! no fear in asking, we love people like you <333 these are mainly the mutuals that i've read fics from so that i can actually tell you how they write but still. THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG ONE STRAP IN FOLKS. if i forgot ygs im sorry oops... also sorry for the tag COUGHS (esp to the ppl i keep tagging when i get asked abt my moots BYE kawa skip mhie naru ren im so sorry i love you i swear)

@generalsmemories

NARU !!! ONE OF MY FIRST EVER HSR MOOTS AND ONE OF THE WRITERS I LOOK UP TO THE MOST. her writing style is very scenic?? if i were to describe it, it's very dreamy and whimsical and it's like reading a fantasy book. very descriptive but not so descriptive that you're eating fancy words. she's jing yuan centric but occasionally writes for others such as dan heng and sunday! she's honestly very very silly when it comes to interaction, like in an older sister way <33 she talks like an aesthetic if that makes sense

@inarvii

skip has a very elegant feel to her writing like LORD. it's giving noble/fantasy thriller enemies to lovers but in a writing style i love her prose and how she really makes you feel the vibe of a scene. she's really kind and sweet, gives older sister vibes lowkey

@k9wa

kawa is like me but x497842389 cooler and with a lot better grasp on characters. you want proper characterization? you want big brain ideas? GO TO HIM. his writing feels theatric, like a movie or a play. it's so descriptive and he does an amazing job at describing action and characters and GRGRGRGR

@luvether

lord i dont know if its okay to tag you but uhm. hi waves hand 😭😭 honestly i haven't interacted w kou much but from what i can tell she's really nice!! BUT I HAVE READ HER WRITING. AND LAWRD. her writing feels like little snapshots of life, you feel like you're actually like. THERE. she always has the biggest brain of ideas i swear and i highly recommend her writing. mostly fluff with a touch of angst, one of my favorites fr !!

@emiken-070907

hi emi. bet you didn't expect to get tagged here huh. but you have one hsr fic and that's enough for me to slap you onto here and promo you (it's on ao3 and it's not an x reader, but it is a tragedy yanqing timeskip!!! i beta read for that btw flips hair (i still need to edit im so sorry emi please)). as for interaction, she is silly asf. TO ME PERSONALLY? shes like the ratty little sibling that you want to throw out the window but would also kill for. has great vibes over all, she's so sweet but sometimes shes a lil shit so. yeah. idk how she acts to followers but she is like that to ME. but she is full of whimsy and glee so there's that

@rainswept

edgar allan poe incarnate over here??? HELLO??? crow is. her writing is RAW. like okay this is going to get a bit gorey but they write like a freshly opened wound, it's vulnerable, it's poetic, it's pure imagery and i LOVE it. also another goofy moot. i think like just attracts like atp

@tragedy-of-commons

gwen is an absolute SWEETHEART. very silly. BUT THEY'RE SO SWEET. her writing is literally sunlight put into literary terms, if that makes sense. it's warm, comfy, and cozy (except when she kills you in the arms of your favorite character. which she has done) and i highly recommend her writing for a comfy read <3

@iceunhie

mhie is a HATER OF THE HIGHEST ORDER jk i love her she just bullies me GOODBYE 😭 mhie gives off older sister vibes, a lot of people (including me HELP) see her as intimidating but she's really sweet once you get to know her. or she calls you milk. who knows. ANYWAYS genuinely one of the people i look up to most, she always gives amazing feedback on writing and her own writing??? the prose??? she's a master at it. knows how to really elevate a piece and it's just really easy on the eyes. she's also a research writer, her jiaoqiu fic utilizes chinese proverbs and terminology and i think that's really neat <3

@st6rly

hi bottom beta. okay wait sorry you have a reputation i forgot ANYWAYS. SOL IS SUCH A SILLY GOOSE. i love him. BUT HE IS SO GOOFY AND I MEAN THAT IN A POSITIVE WAY. i haven't read that much about what sol writes unfortunately since i'm no longer interested in genshin that much 😭😭 but i've heard good things !! definitely someone you wanna check out if you like good vibes :D

@lowkeyren

ren my pookiebear my LORD !!! resident aquila favonia haver (she has like 21 as of right now) and she serves every time she writes. always gets slapped onto my rec list because she's one of the few writers that genuinely have me kicking and giggling 😭 really cute, really tension filled, one of my favorite authors :))

@scribs-dibs

SUNNIII true to his name his writing feels just so warm and light, like a slice of life anime. very relaxing reads, at least from what i've seen !! very warm, really really cute <33 like the main one that ive read from him is that alhaitham jealousy fic and??? the characterization was ON POINT. i loved it so much (the switch up made me laugh) as for personality. HES FUNNY. LIKE HES STRAIGHT UP HILARIOUS I LOVE HIM GO CHECK HIM OUT I SWEAR ITS WORTH IT

@akutasoda

q has a very pretty vibe if that makes sense, i haven't read much from them but i can definitely say that their writing style is beautiful, like a meadow full of flowers or a quiet stream. they've always been kind to me in that sort of older sibling way, and they're someone that i would trust as an emergency contact. lots of genshin and hsr from what i've seen on my dash, so definitely go check them out!

@aviiarie

avery's on the more reserved side, at least from my point of view, or maybe that's because when i first met them they had a ferminet pfp. they're pretty chill and casual, and can i just say? their writing is very easy to read, it has great flow and i can just lose myself in the fic. like i don't see the words i see what the words are saying, if that makes sense. avery also focuses on platonic writing, although they have been writing some romance with furina!! my personal favorite work of theirs was that fic of arlecchino comforting her crying child because it made me feel so much better about my life at 9 am when i just woke up.

@vynicity

FELICITYYYY she's a mutual in my heart even tho apparently tumblr thinks i dont follow her. but i do. ANYWAYS. another person that i consider on the more reserved side, but she's been fun whenever we talked. can i just say. SHE IS SO GOOD AT WRITING AVENTURINE. there's this one fic down the line about him being drunk??? i think??? and I ATE THAT UP because the tension and atmosphere that she managed to create. just magnificent. she has an aventurine series up right now iirc (i still need to read the new chapter im so sorry feli) and the prologue was. a roller coaster so definitely go check her out!

@vxnuslogy

vee is literally bursting with ideas and by god does she put them to use. i always see them brainrotting or thinking of new ideas or things to write, literally one of the most creative people ive met. can be a little silly, but still a sweetheart <33 her writing is more formal than what i'm used to i'll admit, but still a delight to read nevertheless <33 very descriptive is how i'd describe it, like it feels like she's looking at the scene as shes writing it

@ughscara

ayame is like. the sweetest person i have ever met. like ill be here being a little shit and she'll still be an absolute sweetheart I ALMOST FEEL BAD BECAUSE SHE HAS TO DEAL WITH MY ASS BYE 😭😭 i just recently reblogged one of her works and it straight up feels like it came out of a fairytale, it was so light and sweet <33

#mail 🏵️#anon #mutuals !!#if any of yall dont want to be tagged. please lmk and i will never do it again 😭

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weenwrites · 1 year ago

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hello!! is it okay if i ask for a romantic matchup from transformers prime? im a big fan of ur blog!! C:

so a bit about me, im a she/her and an INFP-t like literally everyone else on the internet but thats ok. im optimistic and sensitive and i always try my best to be kind, polite and friendly to everyone. im a bit moody and sometimes shy but nowadays i try to do whatever i want regardless of what people might think of me. im creative and curious and i like having fun!!! my friends often describe me as weird but in a good kind of way, as if im some strange whimsical creature 👽 im super artsy and express my weird style proudly, both in the way i dress and how i present myself. i know u said physical appearance doesn't matter but ive had a buzz cut for around half a year now and it kinda became a part of my personality lol

hobbieees. oh i have many :D overall i enjoy anything creative that requires using my hands, but i mostly spend my days drawing, playing instruments, sewing or studying. i also really like the outdoors and often explore new local and even far away places just for the fun of it. i constantly try and experiment with new things and activities. because it's just fun

i love nature, art, animals, bugs. oh im a huge bug lover. the weirder the bug the better. i like learning new things, i like space, horror movies, sweets, music, fruit, flowers, funky earrings. i like a lot of things. on the other hand there's not much things i dislike, except for the usual like.... idk bad people? violence? drama? but yeah everyone dislikes that. however specific things that i don't like include getting yelled at, being babied/underestimated and ppl who are way too pessimistic.... i don't dislike the people, just the view. it can be so exhausting to deal with🙁🙁

i express my love mostly through words and actions! i like making my friends feel good by complimenting them or giving them gifts like small trinkets and stuff😈 but sometimes i put a bit more thought into my gifts and craft small cards, drawings, bracelets or plushies for them

i like everyone but im not sure how to describe my type. aside from the usual criteria like being kind and caring towards me there's not much that i am looking for specifically. i don't need someone eccentric such as myself i just want someone who likes my weirdness and who looks at me like 😍😍 oh yeahhhh THAT'S my little gremlin

OK SORRY THIS IS SO LONG describing oneself for a matchup feels like opening up to a therapist. anyway thankyou so much for reading this all ily 🙏💞💞 here's a flower for u!!! 🌻

✎ A/N: Aa! Thank you!! I don't mind that it was long, if anything it helped me write some more stuff! Also your forgot to include your sexuality, but I hope you enjoy the match up! The rest is under the cut since it's pretty long ˆˆ

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Smokescreen

He's rather enthusiastic to have a partner he cares for so much, but if you've told him or if he's noticed that you'd prefer for him to turn down the hype a little, he'll definitely try to be a little more "chill" about it. He's rather inexperienced, but he's always eager to do his best in any situation, and when it comes to you he tries to bring his A-game and do his best to make you feel happy and loved.

He would absolutely love to learn about new things with you! Despite how he may seem, he's actually pretty knowledgable (when it comes to cybertronian artifacts and history, of course) and a fast learner. That isn't to mention that as a new-comer to Earth, he intends to learn as much as he can about the planet, not only because he thinks it'd be good to better understand the species he's trying to protect, but also out of genuine interest himself.

So if there are any interesting facts about the planet that you'd like to share with him, or books you'd be willing to lend him, you'll be his go-to source for everything there is to know about earth and humans. (A brief callback to one of my other things, this of course means that he'll be calling you whenever he has a question about something, but the more he does it, the more it seems like he isn't actually curious about what he's calling to ask you about, but rather he's instead doing it to hide the fact he really just wants to talk to you.)

And of course in exchange for everything you tell him about Earth, he's going to return the favor (as long as you ask him something he actually knows about)... But with your interest in space, he'd be able to tell you a lot of things about the stars and cosmos, all of which he learned about in the academy and from Alpha Trion while he was a guard at Iacon. Or he could tell you about cybertronian history, or cybertronian customs that he thinks you'd find interesting or funny.

But aside from that, he'd strive to impress you in whatever way possible, but unfortunately that's a bit... Difficult for him, since the first things that come to mind include feats of strength and shows of his fighting capabilities, but due to your dislike of violence, he decides to opt for other means instead. He quite literally searches up "ways to impress your crush" online and tries out the ones he thinks you'd like the most, like showing off his smarts, or showing that he's really interested in whatever's on your mind.

He's also the type of S/O who'd definitely try out stuff that their partner's into, so he's willing to try out a whole bunch of your hobbies if it means the two of you get to hang out together. I'd like to imagine he's particularly fond of listening to you play music, and perhaps he even hums along when he grows more familiar with the tune.

He'd definitely try to help you come out of your shell and he actively encourages you to live life whatever way makes you happy and live life with no regrets. He's also pretty quick to recognize most of his mistakes and make up for them accordingly. He also always emphasizes that he promises to learn from them (and he does for your sake).

Breakdown

He's actually pretty chill and easy-going as a partner. He doesn't usually do any showy romantic expressions of love (unless you like them), but that doesn't mean he takes the relationship lightly. He particularly enjoys just spending as much time with you as he can in your day-to-day lives. You don't have to do anything special like go on dates, he's just perfectly content hanging out with you and doing whatever you can together.

And contrary to how he looks as a "big brutish tough guy", he's actually very gentle and chill when it comes to you. He enjoys joking around and maybe the two of you even have a few inside jokes that you laugh about from time to time.

He's pretty fond of the great outdoors too! And though patrolling may still be tedious work, the scenery makes it all the more worthwhile. Not to mention that it isn't as boring whenever you offer to tag along for the ride. There are other times where the two of you go on foot, and he'll let you sit up on his shoulders to let you get a good view of the area. Or if there are any neat trees you'd want a closer look at, he'll make sure to lift you up there carefully and let you pick a leaf or a flower out of them.

Whenever the two of you patrol sparsely populated areas with lots of wildlife, he'll occasionally point out animals here and there, and he'll sorta make a game out it.

"Oh hey look! Dog! One point."

"That's not a dog..."

"What do you mean it's not—oh, wait, it's a horse, right? The horns make it a horse."

"Horns on a horse would make it a unicorn. That was a moose."

"That's what a moose looks like?"

"Yeah??? What did you think a moose looked like?????"

Of course he isn't any good at naming the animals he sees, but he thinks that it's neat that you get to tell him what those animals are, or what that plant is, or what that other neat thing is that he saw on the road.

And I feel like he isn't that squeamish or disgusted by bugs, and I think he'd find beetles or any kind of resilient or strong bug super cool despite their miniature stature.

Animals aside, Knockout once recommended that Breakdown should take you out to the theater, saying that it was a romantic thing that humans do. So you can expect drive-in theater movie nights to be a frequent thing from time to time. He'll let you sit in his cab and he parks somewhere with a good view of the screen. He claims that he doesn't find horror movies all that scary, and actually nitpicks at the actual details themselves, but from time to time you'll notice the subtle way his frame begin to shake and his tires twist during some particularly scary scenes... Tease him about it if you will, but not once will he ever admit to being afraid.

And also if you're ever interested in learning self-defense, he definitely would step up and offer to teach you how to punch people in the face. "You never know when it'll come in handy" is what he says to justify it.

He's not usually someone who gets hyped over gifts. That doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't like them, it's just that he's never received many gifts before, so he doesn't truly understand the hype around them. But once you come around and give him gifts, he gets around to understanding the appeal. He gets happy and a little excited whenever you bring him something, and he also tries to get you gifts to return the favor! But given his situation as a giant robot, he can't exactly do that for you, but what the two of you could do is check out old junkyards to see if there's anything neat to take.

#match ups #weenwrites

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angel---eater · 4 months ago

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Okay yeah extrapolation on this version cause i like it better

Roxy, Dirk (+Hal), Jane, and Jake are still the ectobiological parents, there's just, like, more timeline fuckery. Jake is the ectobiologist and basically sends everyone's ectokids back in time just far enough to raise them pre-scratch because he's an idiot

Beta Striders

Big winding victorian type house in the middle of fucking nowhere. Dark gothy interiors, real cobwebs, LOTS of cursed/'haunted' objects and occult objects/tools. She's too busy to dust

Lil Cal is kept in a locked wood and fortified glass cabinet yes this is an Annabelle the Doll reference

Beta Rose would've been closeted for a long time. She finally started taking E somewhere in the first year of having Roxy (it didn't save her)

Roxy grows up strifing Sis with many weapons, magical and non-magical

There's like no interaction between them that isn't Sis drilling Roxy on horrorterror knowledge like a sergeant or strifing

Roxy's egg crack moment is conditional as fuck. Might happen post-session, might happen on the meteor who knows

Roxy grows up bitter and sneaks Sis' liquor to self medicate. Types mainly the same just not whimsical or sillay when sober. Tends to put his wants first when it matters, kind of an asshole. In love with Dirk

Beta Lalondes

Sprawling ultramodern mansion on the outskirts of... idk which big, glamourous US city, I'm not from the US. Literal celebrity type shit. They have palmtrees up the driveway and live near the sea

Dad Lalonde is never around, like most of the time he just ain't there. He sends Dirk anything he needs or wants, but Dirk has to ask which gets more and more daunting. Dad lovebombs Dirk whenever he is home, which causes a lot of emotional turmoil when he leaves again. Hal is jealous and wants attention too

Hal is just shades at the start but is prototyped with a dead seagull. Their tension skyrockets

Dirk is still crushing hard on Jake. Jake has no idea

Dirk has less emotional control and is more overtly clingy. He uses emojis (=^_^= and :3c etc) sometimes to overcompensate for his percieved horrible text tones. Its really obviously forced and usually used to convince someone when he's lying or distract concern from himself

Dirk's egg cracked when he made Hal and Hal asked if he was a boy too

Beta Harleys

Nana Harley still dragged Jane out to that island and also still died by gunshot. Nana was stealth with Jane because she simply forgot to mention it

Jane tries hard to be productive all day every day to stave off loneliness. Definition of 'productive' will vary from baking and cleaning the house to writing and then solving her own at-home whodunit murder mystery game.

Burnout central, she's barely hanging on to that smile

Kind of a control freak. She's seen the future in Skaia's clouds so she knows what has to happen, but she's frustrated that she doesnt know how or when. She snaps at her friends sometimes when she's stressed about it and gets into fights with Roxy

Dogtier! Egg officially cracks post-game but starts to wobble when two of her friends come out as tboys. He settles comfortably into nonbinary butch

Also crushing really bad on Jake

Beta Egberts

Granny Egbert lived a very deserved quiet life before Jake dropped himself on her. Jake is raised by her son, Dadbert but green

Jake really, really, really wants to become a famous scientist-philanthropist-inventor-explorer, yes all of those at the same time

Really fucking sheltered. Just completely trapped in a bubble of his own upbringing. Lives in an upper middle class suburb, possibly gated community. Dirk is the kid of a celebrity and Jake makes him look worldly by comparison

Has no idea anyone even considers him a romantic option. Finds the whole prospect of dating really hilarious, but gets a funny feeling in his chest around Dirk

Has every single Tomb Raider game, yes even That One. Talks about Lara Croft like how John talks about Nic Cage

#caw caw #our t #sburbswap au

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kazuyummy · 1 year ago

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AK anon is here -again- 🙊💛. I really wanna request a matchup with Amahisa but i have never done that before so kinda unsure how to do so but i will give it a go:

1- weak. 2- strong. 3- Insightful. 4- Cool (im not tho🤦‍♀️)

Orange (🍊): I am not very creative like you -🥺- so my ideas are very basic, but something like how he would approach a person like me ? I really can't imagine myself being with somebody like kousei who is so opposite. (personality wise). Ppl around think im cool, strong, independent women, laid back, chill etc .. but really im not like that, and i usually admire ppl who are like that (and like Kousei too). But what ppl see from outside is way different from inside ~~~ but ~~~~~ yeah ~~~~~ god i feel shy idk why 🤦‍♀️🙊🙈💛. Also, thank you for writing for DNA. I really enjoy my time on your blog.

omg no worries! usually in matchups you would give your info and then i would choose who to match you up with - but don't worry, i'd be happy to write one for you and amahisa (plus i can't see you with anyone else now LOLL)!

i think you and AMAHISA KOUSEI would be a perfect match particularly because you're opposites! he's a walking contradiction - whimsical but observant; carefree but invested; nonchalant but hardworking. so i think he'd really appreciate you being a bit of a contradiction yourself! sometimes he's so honest to the point that people can't tell if he's joking or not - so i think he sees your struggle in that area with being misunderstood or seen differently than you might think you act. and even if you don't think you're cool yourself - he certainly would, but not necessarily in the way others might perceive you. i think he'd want to get to know you at a raw, deep level - it might take you a while to be that vulnerable with him and open up, but he's determined to crack that shell and support you. and for someone who may get bored with one thing and move on to the next - he'd find you so interesting that he'd never get tired of you.

bit of drabble / headcanon under the cut! a bit longer than i usually do too ehehe 💕

❀ FIRST IMPRESSIONS

amahisa kousei is certainly one to say what he means, and you don't exactly understand that at first

his pickup lines aren't suave or clever - he'll literally tell you that you're pretty, smart, beautiful - with such a nonchalant face and then go back to doing his own thing

while you think you're gawking and panicking over what he's saying, you're really just staring at him with a straight face and a slow nod

"amahisa's always trying to get your attention... how are you always so cool about it? isn't he like, a big star on the baseball team?"

your friend taps your shoulder as you leave class, and you mumble back,

"he can't be that good at baseball if he has time to flirt like this all the time..."

your face is burning, but you play it off - sure, he's pretty handsome and charismatic. a bit of a mystery, even - but you do tend to wonder why he focuses on you specifically

it isn't until after you've parted with your friend and walked ten minutes to the bus stop that you realize something very important

you forgot your freaking laptop.

huffing, you start a light jog back but pause when you glance at your watch - there's no way you'll get there and back in time, and the next bus after that is in another half hour

and you definitely needed to grab your next batch of textbooks from home, or you'd miss your next class

"hey! you're pretty fast, you know? practically sprinted out of the classroom!"

when you look up, who else do you nearly run into but amahisa holding your laptop?

you blink once, twice. then you blurt out,

"you're a lot more thoughtful than you let on."

he lets out a full laugh, "and you're a lot less scary than you seem!"

you frown, asking what he means - to which he responds,

"everyone always says how intimidating and strong you are. but you're getting flustered right now, aren't you?"

"i- i- no i'm not! and i don't mean to look scary at all! that's just how people see me for some reason..."

you're feeling self-conscious, even when he gives you an easygoing laugh, and you're certainly thrown off when he ruffles your hair,

"you shouldn't care so much how people see you! except for me maybe, because i see you as pretty interesting."

you roll your eyes, taking the laptop from him, but can't seem to hide a slight smile from his watchful golden eyes

"see you later then, yeah?"

"we'll have to see about that. but i guess i owe you for this - so thanks... amahisa."

"it's kousei," he smiles before waving and taking off

"how am i supposed to talk to him if he doesn't even ask for my number..." you grumble

but when you pull your laptop out next class, a sticky note tumbles from it with his phone number and a "coffee soon?" on it - that boy certainly is full of surprises.

hope you enjoyed, i'm so happy i finally got to write for you and kousei - i love getting asks from you and think the two of you would make such an amazing couple ehe 💕

read completed matchups here 💫

#💬-ani-chats #💭-ani-mini #diamond no ace #matchups #diamond no ace matchups

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venusguks · 4 years ago

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Unlike You

pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader

summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.

warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec

“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.

He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people. “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips.

You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.

So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.

“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.”

You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”

A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective.

“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”

“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.

That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.

That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.

It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.

You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.

But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.

When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.

It was times like these where you really started to mind though.

You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.

The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up.

Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”

“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.

Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.

Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music.

Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.

“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake!

“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”

Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.

“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”

“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique.

“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.

Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”

“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.

“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.

Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”

“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”

“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.”

“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.

You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?

You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.

It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.

You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.

Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.

“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”

“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.

“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”

Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”

“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”

Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason.

He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.

“W-What are you...?”

“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”

“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.

Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.

“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge.

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”

“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”

“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.”

“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”

“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”

You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.

You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.

“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”

Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!”

Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.

“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more.

You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs

“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation.

“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him.

“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”

“Did you learn your lesson, then?”

“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”

“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”

“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.

“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.

“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?”

“P-please...please Kookie..!”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”

“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”

“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.

Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.

Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful.

“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.

“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.

Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”

“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow.

Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest.

You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.

It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.

A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”

With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”

When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you.

He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”

“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.

“Kiss me, please.”

Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.

You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.

Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.”

With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.

You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.

“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...

Oh.

Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.

Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.

“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”

“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”

“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet.

“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”

“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.

You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”

“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”

“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.

“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.

“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.

“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.

“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.

“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”

“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.

Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.

“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”

“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.

Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.

When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.

With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.

Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.

Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?

You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.

You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.

He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.

The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”

a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.

this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!

anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.

stay safe and healthy starlights <3

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pingutats · 4 years ago

Text

at last!

it’s the morning after harry proposed, and here you are, in heaven.

warnings: some sexual content, not very graphic.

word count: 2k

. . . . .

As soon as you start to drift awake, you feel this overwhelming sense of bliss. Like everything is right in the world, properly aligned and in harmony. Your heart feels full, warm like the way a lover would cradle their hands around yours on a chilly winter night.

The thing that pulls you completely from the gentle embrace of sleep into the morning is someone actually grabbing your left hand. Not just someone, but Harry. And, you remember suddenly like a crack of lightning bursting through your sleep-weary skull, he isn’t just Harry, he’s —

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice croaky and slightly slurred from sleep still, as he pulls your hand over to him and slips the ring back onto your fourth finger. “Y’always look so pretty in the morning. ‘Specially today.”

“H,” you whisper back, barely able to form a coherent thought. He’s your fiancé. You blink your eyes open, rubbing at them as you adjust to the weak light streaming through a window. “Oh my god, Harry.”

He’s grinning at you, eyes still half-closed. He brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring. “Oh my god, Y/N,” he repeats back, and you giggle.

You hold your hand up to the light, twisting your wrist so the small, classic diamond sparkles. You’ve seen it before, of course. You’ve known what it looks like for ages. The two of you picked it out together in a store a couple months ago. You’ve spoken about this moment, over and over — sometimes in practical terms to try and plan for your future, sometimes whimsically as you spelled out your wildest dreams to each other — but now it’s here. It’s real.

He was insistent on being the one to propose. You could pick the ring, the wedding venue, write the guest list and choose his outfit and even curate the reception playlist, he offered— as long as he got to propose. You accepted, of course, without the bargaining. You wanted him to do it anyway.

Harry isn’t one for grand gestures. When you first met him, only knowing him as the glamorous rockstar that he performs as when he’s on stage, you had assumed he would be into the massive displays of affection, the lavish gifts and the kind of relationship that no one can tear their eyes away from. But he isn’t really like that.

Harry is a cup of tea set out for you in the morning before you even ask for one. The last segment of the mandarin he was eating, held out for you to take. A hundred kisses to your cheek over the course of a night out, for no particular reason except that he’s tipsy and he loves you. A playlist that he texts to you with a sweet note in the description. Making the bed by himself before you’re done brushing your teeth. Carrying you from the car to the door at three in the morning because your heels are killing you and he’d rather roll around naked on broken glass than see you in any amount of pain at all.

That’s what Harry is. So it made sense that, rather than flying you out to Paris and organising a string quartet to play in the background while he got down on one knee under the Eiffel Tower at night (something you had joked about often), he did it in his own little unassuming way.

You wanted a surprise. That was all you asked. If he was going to ask, he better make it good.

It wasn’t big. It wasn’t grand or especially beautiful. You had been baking together all afternoon: flour all over the place, a small pile of chocolate chips that you’d “accidentally dropped” on the counter and were snacking on, cookies in the oven making the kitchen smell all warm and cosy. The echoes of your laughs and playful banter still lingered in the room. An Etta James album was playing in the background — Harry’s choice, of course. You were bending in front of the oven to check on the cookies.

“They’re looking good, H,” you said, gazing at them.

“Y/N,” he said from behind you.

“I think we’ve got a perfect batch on our hands.” You straightened up, reaching over to swipe a couple more chocolate chips from the shrinking pile. “Better than last time, those were all hard and —”

“Darling,” he said, a bit more firmly.

“Yeah?” You turned around, sucking on the chocolate, and froze.

There was Harry, on one knee on the kitchen floor, holding a little box and smiling gently up at you.

“Hi,” was all you managed to breathe out, once you regained the ability to move.

“Hello,” he said, smile growing. He cleared his throat. “I love you so much, you know?”

“Harry, you’ve got flour on your nose.”

“Do I?” He was grinning widely now, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he tried not to laugh. “I’ll fix that later, love, got something more important to do right now.”

“Okay.” Your voice was shaking slightly.

He chuckled, and then took a deep breath to steady himself. “Y/N. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You make my days better, every day. Most gorgeous, funniest, kindest, sweetest girl I ever met. You’re so fucking amazing — sorry, I shouldn’t swear. Probably ruins the moment.”

“It doesn’t,” you said quickly. You could feel tears threatening to prickle at your eyes. “Keep going.”

“Nothing’s going to stop me, angel,” he promised. He set his face, playing at being very somber. “I really need to ask you something.”

You bit your lip through a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause every day I wake up and hug you and I think to myself that I never want to let go of you. Ever.”

You nodded, unable to speak for fear that you would just collapse from how unbelievably sweet he is.

“Y/N,” he said, finally. He took a deep breath and pulled open the lid of the little box, and there was your ring. His smile returned to his face again, bright and dimpled and so Harry you nearly starting sobbing right there. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” You were saying it before he even finished his sentence. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—” and you kept saying it until he was back on his feet and had swept you up in the tightest hug, pulling you into his chest and spinning both of you around.

You clutched at the front of his fuzzy sweater and pulled him into a kiss that made the world feel like it was shifting. Because it had. Everything had changed now. It felt like the two of you had taken the world and cracked it open like a walnut, finding a completely new kind of life inside. A kind of life where you both completely, irrevocably, belonged to each other.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he rubbed his flour-covered nose over yours, then pecked another kiss on your cheek. “Got flour all over you, love.”

“Best go take a shower, then,” you said to him, grinning.

He raised his eyebrows, that mischievous glint in his eye that you so adored appearing. “Yeah? Okay, whatever my beautiful fiancee wants.” He let you take his hand and start to pull him toward the bathroom, before he suddenly jerked you back, making you stumble into his chest. “Shit,” he murmured. “Give me your hand, darling.”

“Oh.” You held out your left hand, and gently he slid the ring onto your finger.

He looked up at you, eyes shining. “Can’t believe I nearly forgot the most important part.”

“Me too. Silly goose.”

He snorted, and you leaned forward to kiss him again. He held his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. He was warm, his embrace firm, his mouth gentle. Tasting him, the sweetness of the cookie dough he had been stealing out of the bowl, the vanilla of the lip balm he used — you could have lived in that kiss forever. Any kiss, really. You weren’t picky when it came to Harry. But he pulled back, and ran his hands down to the back of your thighs.

“Jump, darling,” he whispered, and he pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms looped behind his neck. He pressed his lips to yours again, then carried you to the bathroom, your giggles echoing through the house.

He got on his knees for you again in the shower — “Wanna treat my fiancee like a proper gentleman” — with your leg thrown over his shoulder, your hand with the ring in his hair, your head thrown back against the tiled wall. He was always good (outstanding in the field, you would joke) but somehow today he was better. Like he was trying to tell you something just by the way he licked up your folds and sucked on your sensitive little bud until you were shaking and your hand tightened in his hair in a way that was surely painful. Like he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, as if everything else wasn’t already enough.

Later, you opened up the expensive bottle of champagne you’d been saving and split it over the takeout he had ordered over the phone in a rush while your hands were slowly creeping down his bare chest and playing with the waistband of the sweatpants he had thrown on after the shower. You ate outside. It was a pleasant night and as stars started to dust over the sky, you were sure they were shining just a little bit brighter.

And when you finally made it into bed, he was immediately over you, his arms snaking underneath you and hugging you to his chest while he thrust into you, deep and passionate. He had his head buried in your neck, his moans vibrating into your skin and you knew he was feeling more than just the physical. It was beyond that for both of you. Treasure this moment, you kept thinking. Keep this day safe forever.

You came together. As he got close, his steady rhythm starting to falter, he grabbed your left hand and pushed it down into the mattress, so you could feel the ring pressing into your skin. That was what sent the both of you over the edge.

Sleep came easily, your limbs still tangled together, your ring lying on the bedside table because you were scared to sleep with it. Harry must have fallen asleep after you — as you dozed off, you could hear the rustling of his pillow as he kept turning his head to look at the ring glinting in the full moon’s light coming through the window. His strong arm wrapped around you, holding you close, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

“I’m so fucking happy,” he says now, in the morning, quietly, breaking the silence that had descended over you. He says it like it could be the last sentence he ever speaks. A neat epilogue.

You look at him, your arm still raised in the air between you. His eyes are trained on the diamond, and you could swear his eyes are sparkling just as much as the jewel is. He blinks, and glances back to you. “So, so fucking happy.”

“Me too,” you tell him. You let your hand drop, finding his and intertwining your fingers. “Love being engaged.” The word rolls off your tongue easily, and that was thrilling. You’re engaged. “’S better than I imagined. Better than anything else, ever.”

“Mm,” he hums, running his thumb over the ring, and then along the empty space of your finger just below it. “I think it just keeps getting better from here, love.”

. . . . .

hope you enjoyed!! i wrote this in barely two hours around midnight (obviously with at last by etta james playing in the background) because i just had to get this concept onto a page. it’s only been very lightly edited so if there were mistakes or it was structured messily ........ sorry. but i am just so in love with these very domestic, un-grandiose proposals because the important thing is the love between the two rather than the big displays... yeah. anyway hope you liked and if you want to send me a request or just chat, my askbox is very much open!!!

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fiance harry #fic

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oh-for-merlins-sake · 4 years ago

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SLOW BURN | gw | golden

summary: y/n, a local florist, stops in weasleys’ wizard wheezes for the first time and finds more than she bargained for. soon, she’ll teach george that there are many reasons to stop and smell the roses.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: alcohol

a/n: AAAAAH you guys i did not want to stop writing this!! i had so much fun, and i’m really happy with how it turned out! it was really challenging for me to write a “slow burn” relationship, but i hope i did it justice! as you’ll see, this is not a “song” fic, but a lyric (in bold and italics) was used. cheers to the first installment of the golden collection!!

taglist: @iliveiloveiwrite @andromedaa-tonks @pansydaisy @a-little-too-much @slytherinsunrise @marvelettesassemble @msmarklee1213 @letsgotothehop @finnishslytherin @starlightweasley @witch-and-a-half @darthwheezely @vogueweasley @gcdric @breadqueen95 (message/ask to be added/removed, loves!)

Blackbirds trilled overhead as you glided over the cobblestone path to work. The sun was finally reemerging from behind the dark, dreary clouds, which had just finished bathing the streets of Diagon Alley in a springtime shower. You admired the lingering smell of fresh rainwater that dripped from the eaves above you.

Today, you were taking a detour from your ordinary route. Your younger brother’s birthday was just around the corner, and you had yet to find a gift worthy of a teenage boy’s microscopic attention span and angst-ridden ennui. You smiled to yourself as you spotted the vibrant shop down the street with its mechanical mascot tipping his hat to you.

It was curious to you that this shop had a natural magnetism to people of all ages. If you hadn’t found a thing yet, this shop should surely hold something that would cater to your brother. You’d seen the troves of young wizards clamoring in a morning or two before.

As you approached the large front doors, you glanced at your watch: half an hour until the start of your shift. You strolled into the whimsical shop, dodging a Fanged Frisbee in the process. You slowly turned in place, eyeing the towering shelves of eccentric gadgets and vivid pyrotechnics. Truthfully, it was a little intimidating; where to start was beyond you.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”

Startled by the sudden voice, you spun to face its origin. You were met with a tall, redheaded man with freckles that practically danced across his cheeks as he chuckled at your expression. Suddenly, you felt sheepish. “Sorry?”

“You looked a little...” he pondered the right word, “overwhelmed.”

You laughed, “To be honest, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.”

He nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Younger brother’s birthday?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a guess,” he shrugged.

You were quite impressed. As he motioned for you to follow him up the stairs to the next floor of the shop, you couldn’t help but notice how familiar he looked. Surely you’d seen him before — perhaps in line at Gringotts or sipping mead in the Leaky Cauldron. You couldn’t quite pin it.

You were relieved to leave the gargantuan fireworks below — on behalf of your mother mostly. You followed him to a wall of massive tubes that were filled to the brim with colorful candies.

“Our full collection of sweets,” he announced.

You eyed the assortment, noticing the words Puking Pastilles on a golden label. “Are these different flavors or...?”

“Yes, but more importantly, they serve different purposes. These, for example,” he pointed to the pastilles, “induce vomiting — perfect for skiving class!”

You chuckled. “Surely these aren’t allowed at Hogwarts?”

“‘Course not! But that’s what makes them so bloody popular — hot commodity,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve got a sweet for nearly every malady.”

“Who even thinks of this sort of thing?” you mused — again, thoroughly impressed.

“I guess we do,” he answered, leaning against the counter.

Your jaw dropped. “You made these?”

He shrugged, the faintest smirk on his lips, “I made everything.”

“Get out!” you laughed, pouring some candy into a purple plastic bag.

“Of my own shop?” he teased. “I don’t think so!”

You twist-tied the bag shut and turned to face him. “So you’re Weasley?”

“One of them, at least — George, to be exact.”

“That’s wicked!”

You noticed his freckled cheeks growing rosier by the second. “That’s awfully kind of you,” he said, waving dismissively.

“No, honestly! It’s incredible!”

As you reached for another plastic bag, George rushed over to interrupt. “Here,” he pointed to the display of Skiving Snackboxes. “Take one of these — they’ve got all our best-selling sweets in one box. Your brother’s sure to love it.” He led you over, plucking a box from the top and handing it to you. “On the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“I insist! Consider it an incentive.”

“An incentive?”

He nodded. “To come again.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, George — really! I just know he’ll love it!” As you turned the box in your hands, you caught sight of the time on your wrist: five ‘til. “Merlin!”

George furrowed his brows.

“I’ve got to go!” If you hadn’t known any better, you could’ve sworn you’d seen a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “But, perhaps you’ll stop by sometime. I can return the favor — clip you a free dozen roses for your girlfriend or something,” you rushed out.

“I’d have to find one first,” he chuckled, following you as you skipped down the steps towards the doors.

A warm blush flooded your face as you laughed nervously. You spun to face George one last time as he landed at the foot of the stairs. “Well, maybe you’ll stop by anyways.”

“Florist down the road?” he asked, pointing in the general direction.

“That’s exactly the one!” you called, stepping backwards onto the street.

You rushed down the path towards the florist, your step feeling a touch lighter than it did earlier. You noticed the result of the sudden sun after the storm: a rainbow hanging above the grinning man attached to the storefront.

“Aha!” you exclaimed, finally realizing why George had looked so familiar.

When you arrived at work, you swung the screen door into the greenhouse open, announcing your presence, “Sorry I’m late!”

“Not to worry, dear,” Muriel remarked.

Muriel hired you a few months prior, admiring your proclivity to gardening and greenery. She taught you something new every day without ever realizing she was doing so. Her green thumb had a knack for nurturing every flower both under and out of the sun. And her extraordinary eye for piecing together various plants and flowers to create a stunning and elegant arrangement never ceased to amaze you.

“Be a dear, Y/N, won’t you?” Jasmine grunted as she attempted to haul a heavy-bottomed, ceramic pot.

You threw your things onto a nearby stool and rushed over to lift the side closest to you. The two of you managed to hoist the pot just above the dirt floor to carry it to its destination.

“Re-potting the Wiggentree,” Jasmine explained, dusting off her hands. “Pretty soon it’s going to be too big to stay, mum,” she called to Muriel.

“Yes, I know, dear,” Muriel muttered, “That does not change the fact that it must be re-potted.”

Jasmine was less fond of gardening than her mother was. But if something unfortunate were to happen, the shop would fall to Jasmine, so she figured it’d be best to at least try and learn a thing or two.

You walked through the door leading directly from the greenhouse into the shop. “Morning, Candace!”

“Morning, Y/N!” the cheery teenager chirped as she balanced a vase full of violets on the counter.

A set of hooks adorned with various dirt-stained aprons lined the wall just behind it. You reached for the one with your initial embroidered in the upper right corner, quickly throwing it over your head and down your body. You tied a bow behind your back before throwing your hair up and stepping back into the greenhouse. You grabbed a pair of gloves and began heaving soil into the planter with Jasmine.

Beads of sweat were already forming on your forehead as the humidity of the greenhouse settled into your skin.

Re-potting the Wiggentree proved to be a difficult and timely task, taking up most of the morning. By lunchtime, you’d moved on to trimming daisies and de-thorning roses, and come sunset, you were planting hyacinth seeds and watering Flutterby bushes in the garden.

“Y/N,” Jasmine announced, stepping out from the greenhouse. “Someone’s here to see you.”

You wound your way through the garden and the greenhouse, stepping into the shop in search of your guest. Candace giggled as she zipped her coat and nodded towards the front door. You stepped onto the patio, where the outdoor displays danced in the gentlest of breezes. You were shocked to spot George leaning over to smell the roses.

“George?” you laughed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Someone said something about roses,” he teased.

“Well,” you began, walking over and gesturing to the basket of pretty, pink roses, “What do you think?”

“Well worth the walk over here,” he answered, smiling brightly at you as he rocked on his heels with his hands in his coat pockets.

Jasmine rushed onto the patio with her jacket and purse draped over her shoulder and swiftly said, “Y/N, I completely forgot about my mother-in-law’s birthday dinner, and Candace just left! I’m so sorry — would you mind —”

“Go on!” you hurried, waving her off of the patio, “I’ll close up!”

“Thank you, Y/N!” she called over her shoulder, “You’re an angel!”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes in amusement as she disappeared around the corner.

“I’ve got to tidy a few things but... the bar down the street doesn’t close for an hour,” you began, your heart fluttering as your stomach burst with butterflies, “We should take a walk and look at all the flowers down the alley.” You chuckled, feeling your face grow warm, “I planted half of them.”

George smiled, a light laugh gracing his lips, “All right, sounds good then.”

George busied himself with the outdoor displays while you prepared the shop for closing. He brushed his calloused fingers over the delicate flower petals, occasionally indulging in their sweet scents. He imagined how you likely smelled of flowers after a long day of work, and how that would be the perfect antidote to the lingering smell of gunpowder that constantly plagued his pillows.

“Ready?” you asked, stepping back onto the patio.

“More than ever,” he said.

As you walked down the alley together, you pointed out flowerbed after flowerbed resting on the windowsills of various shops and bakeries. Your favorites, he learned, were always the dahlias. He was surprised by the natural beauty that erupted from the brick and stone storefronts, and even more so by the fact that he never once paid attention to any of it. How could he have missed this?

“Merlin!” you gasped, rushing over to Mr. Reilly’s butcher shop. “Mr. Reilly has been doing an absolute lovely job tending to his poppies! You see, when I first popped in, he swore to Godric that he was incapable of keeping anything alive but himself, but look!”

George laughed, racing to keep up with you.

You led him to the pub that had just opened the month prior, Brenda’s Brews, whose owner agreed with your suggestion of keeping a few Fire Seed bushes out front to “really grab the people’s attention!”

Upon entering the pub, Brenda greeted you from behind the bar, “The usual, Y/N?”

“Two please!” you called, sliding a few sickles across the counter faster than George was able to dive into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it,” you winked.

“Okay, but next one’s on me, yeah?”

“No, no, consider it a thank you for earlier,” you said, raising your glass.

George clinked his glass with yours before sipping from the foamy ale. “Good choice,” he nodded.

“Can’t go wrong with a little Dragon Scale,” you remarked, savoring in its tangy, bitter taste.

“I’ve got to ask,” George began, setting his glass down on a coaster with The Weird Sisters plastered on it, “It seems like you know everyone in this bloody part of town. How come we haven’t met? Have you been here long?”

You laughed at his disbelief. “I’ve only been here a few months, so I haven’t quite gotten to everyone yet — for example, Number 93,” you muttered as you fidgeted with your diminishing glass.

“That’s wild,” he paused before snapping his fingers and saying, “Y/N?”

“Y/N,” you confirmed, taking a swig from your glass.

“And you’ve already made that big of an impact on everyone?” he continued.

You blushed, feeling flooded with a sudden warmth. You were quite flattered by the idea that you may mean something to this place; a place that was so new and intimidating not that long ago; somewhere you were certain a florist could never thrive: the middle of the city.

Perhaps the finger pricks from a thorn every now and then was worth it.

You shrugged bashfully, “I don’t know about all that.”

“Y/N,” a bartender called as he raced past, carrying two different mugs with different colored ales, “May loved the mayflowers! She said yes, by the way!”

You clapped, squealing in excitement, “Congratulations, Borden!”

George raised his eyebrows, as if to say, See?

Brenda bellowed, “Last call!”

You checked your watch: half an hour until close.

And despite the short burst of time remaining, it felt as though you’d been laughing and chatting away with George for hours. If someone insisted that they’d magically slowed time, you might have believed them. It felt so familiar to talk to George; it came so naturally. You wondered if he’d been talking since birth, given the way he animatedly told stories and produced witty comebacks within nanoseconds of the original comment.

At last, your glasses had been drained of their contents, and Brenda was shooing the last of the stragglers out the door. George followed behind you as you ducked out, calling goodbye to Brenda and Borden back inside.

Perhaps you’d been imagining it, but it certainly seemed that you and George were walking much closer together than you had been originally. One misstep and you might have brushed his hand.

You were suddenly distracted by the vibrant purple dahlias sitting outside of Rosa Lee’s. You raced over, carefully assessing exactly which flower to pick, explaining, “She won’t mind, I give her a new basket every week.”

George felt suddenly in awe of your natural grace and delight. It seemed so simple to please you: a dainty dahlia was all you needed to feel like the world was a good enough place to live. In a way, he envied your childlike wonder; it was different than the one exhibited in his shop by his products. It paid attention to the smaller things in life, rather than inciting big, booming bangs. It provided a sense of serenity.

You giggled and tucked the flower behind his right ear. He blushed as your hand gently grazed his skin. “How do I look?” he managed.

“Beautiful,” you said sincerely.

You continued walking as George fiddled with the dahlia. “Your favorite, right?” he asked, pointing to it.

“That is correct, sir,” you answered, impressed by his memory.

Once you reached Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, George leaned against the door and twiddled with the tiny flower between his fingers. He considered asking you inside, despite the lights clearly being off, indicating that the shop was clearly closed, and therefore, indicating that he meant inside his flat.

Likewise, you pondered the same prospect. You wondered if it’d be too forward: to suggest the idea of coming inside. Perhaps, tonight wasn’t the night.

And that was all right.

“Well, George,” you sighed, “I must say I’m really glad I stepped into this wacky shop of yours today.”

“I’d say the same,” he said earnestly.

You paused. “You’ll have to stop by again... you know, to finish off your bouquet,” you said, gesturing towards the dahlia.

He smiled. “You’ll be there tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, a smile growing on your lips. You stepped onto the street and waved.

The sight of George waving back with a lopsided grin on his freckled face was enough to tide you over until next time. You spun in place and apparated home.

Honestly, George liked the idea of taking his time, carefully picking flowers — a few each day — until his bouquet was erupting from its vase.

Maybe then, you’d come in.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #hp fanfiction #george weasley x fem!reader #golden collection

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hatterstan-shameblog · 4 years ago

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The Best Quiche in Tokyo

Rating: ‼️18+ Minors Do Not Interact ‼️

Warnings: explicit sexuality (it literally takes place at an orgy so like.......Y’know)

Characters: Hatter (Takeru), Aguni, and Female Reader (You)

Summary: When one of your customers invites you to a potluck-slash-orgy, you assume the “orgy” part is a joke—because nobody really hosts a potluck and an orgy at the same time, right?

Notes: One time, @nessinborderland (happy belated birthday btw) gave me the brilliant idea of Hatter hosting an orgy and serving really good food and I just......ran with it. This ended up being part comedy, part character study—and mostly features Aguni, if you can believe it! I don’t know, I just let the story take me where it wanted to go! (Also, this is definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, so get ready to dig in!)

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon in March, and you’re standing in front of a hat shop. Well, technically, you’re slightly to the left of a hat shop, peering down a skinny alleyway in search of a door or a set of stairs—something to indicate that there is, in fact, an apartment up there and this is not just an elaborate prank.

There is a very good chance this is a prank—after all, the eccentric man who walked into your stationary store two weeks ago seemed...off. Not in a bad way, just. One-of-a-kind. Unique. Entirely himself, in a way that people usually aren’t.

Was he flirting or was he just overly friendly when he leaned in just a bit too close to see the various fonts available for his choosing? It’s difficult to say. He did seem genuinely interested to know the difference between serif and sans serif, which doesn’t much thrill your customers on the regular. Does asking for an extra business card ‘for his personal records’ count as a pick-up line? It’s hard to say. Not that it matters much, of course—you are a professional, he is a customer, and there’s nothing more to it.

And you really are a professional, because when he told you that he wanted—in metallic gold, 30-point, center aligned—to say, quote, “The Third Annual Springtime Potluck and Orgy: Presented by Danma Takeru,” you didn’t so much as bat an eye. Partially because he was very insistent that you spell his name correctly, and partially because. Well. How does a person respond to that?

In truth, he ended up being one of your better customers—he showed a genuine interest in the process while still deferring to your expertise—and when one of the printed invitations arrived in your mailbox, you figured you might as well go see what the fuss is about. It could be an opportunity to meet some new friends, maybe drum up a little business if you’re lucky.

And besides—a potluck-slash-orgy? Who would even do that?

The merry little jingle of bell catches your attention, and you turn your head to see a solemn-looking man peeking his head around the hat shop’s glass door. He looks at you. He looks at the plastic-wrapped pie in your hands. He looks back at you.

He frowns.

“Hi,” you say, putting on your most charming smile in the hopes that he’ll stop looking at you like you just slapped him across the face, “I’m, uh, I’m here for the party!”

You shuffle over to him, careful not to scuff the white of your sensible-yet-pretty patent leather heels on the sidewalk. Maybe you’re dressed too formally—he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans while you’re sporting a calf-length chiffon dress dyed in a lovely array of watercolor blues and violets.

Oh dear, what a faux-pas! There was no dress code listed on the invite, but maybe you should’ve dressed in a more casual fashion. You don’t live far, you could probably run home quickly and change...

“Do you...have an invitation,” the man asks, crossing his arms across his chest and furrowing his brow. Is he annoyed? No, no. He seems. Confused? Wary? How very strange.

“Oh, of course,” you answer, reaching a fumbling hand into your purse to search for the little pink envelope, “I almost forgot it walking out the door, but I remembered at the last second! I can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes!”

The man doesn’t say anything, but leans forward to inspect the invitation once you manage to produce it from the cluttered mess that is your handbag.

“I know the time said it started at three, but the pie took a little longer than expected. It takes time for the chocolate to set, and—“ you gasp, covering your mouth with your invite-laden hand, “I haven’t kept you waiting, have I? I’m so sorry, Mister...?”

“Call me Aguni,” he says, and his eyes narrow slightly when you give him your most chipper ‘thank you’ and apologize for not being able to shake his hand at the moment. What a strange man.

“You,” he asks slowly, “you read the invitation, right?”

“Of course I did! I’m the one who made them,” you explain, puffing your chest up with pride, “and our host was kind enough to send one to me! He must have really liked my work!”

“...Yeah,” the man called Aguni says, “I’m sure that’s it.”

But, to your pleasure, he steps aside and holds the door open for you to enter. Such a strange man, but at least he’s gentlemanly enough to hold the door for you as you step inside.

“Oh, wow,” you say, “this place is amazing!”

And maybe it sounds silly, but you’re being entirely honest. There are hats in shelves, hats hanging on the wall, hats on faceless plastic heads on the counter and placed atop a long wooden table to the left—all of them in different shapes and colors, embellished and feathered and ribboned to the nines. There’s a certain magic to a little place like this, a kind of whimsical charm you want to bottle and keep on the kitchen windowsill.

“Walls could use some paint. Floor needs polished, too,” Aguni says, “but...yeah, I guess it’s nice enough.”

You follow him as he leads you towards the back, your eyes drinking in all the details of this fascinating little shop.

“No, no, the walls and the floor are perfect,” you assert with a wide-mouthed smile, “it gives it character. Makes it feel...like home, I think.”

“Takeru says the same thing,” Aguni answers with a chuckle, “although I also think he just doesn’t want to put in the work. He’s...not very handy.”

There is a second door at the very back of the shop, and once again, Aguni holds it open for you. Perhaps his original air of discontent was a simple case of shyness—maybe he just takes a bit to warm up to people. Well, just wait until he tries your homemade triple-chocolate silk pie; you’ll be best friends in no time!

He leads you into a tiny courtyard, which is just barely big enough to hold a steep set of metal stairs and a handful of plant pots, which remain empty due to the early spring cold. But, oh, it must be so lovely back here when the plants are in full bloom! You say as much to your companion, who actually manages to smile a bit in your direction as he leads you up the stairs.

“Those are mine, actually,” he tells you, his boot-covered feet thunking up the stairs at a leisurely pace, “He lets me garden back here.”

You picture it—this tall, stoic man, kneeling on the ground, his gloved hands tending little green sprouts as the morning sun shines gold and warm on the cold stone ground. The thought of it warms you. Does he know anything about succulents? You’ve always thought they would look so cute in the shop...

“Look,” Aguni says when the two of you reach a very drab-looking door, “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but...you sure you’re ready for this?”

What an odd thing to say! Maybe you’re acting more nervous than you originally thought? It is rather daunting, walking into a party of strangers; but, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

“You’re sweet for worrying about me,” you respond, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “but if everyone is half as lovely as you, I’m sure I’ll do just fine. I will probably stick with you for a while—if that’s okay, of course!”

“Alright, then.” Aguni says—and is that a hint of a blush you see creeping up his neck? All this time, you thought he was just being strange, but he’s just a little shy! You give his arm a knowing pat before withdrawing your touch, and he quickly turns around to unlock the door.

Are all of Takeru’s friends this adorable? You hope so. You follow your bashful escort inside—the genkan is already full of shoes, but you manage to squeeze yours in between a pair of snakeskin wedge heels and the wall. Aguni also removes his boots, and you’re happy he isn’t going to stay down in the hat shop the whole time. He can introduce you to everyone, and maybe—

You hear something. Was that...? No, no, you must be imagining things. You definitely did not just hear a woman moan on the other side of the wall. You stop and angle your head towards the door slightly to get a better listen. It’s all rather muffled (it must be well-insulated!) but there’s definitely some kind of music playing. Maybe it’s part of a song?

It happens again. This time, it’s deeper, and more of a prolonged “ah” sound. And then laughter. Aguni is looking at you in that concerned way of his again.

Instead of waiting for him to open the door for you a third time, you decide to take initiative and open it yourself—a show of confidence, to put his mind at ease. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to try and stop you, but he instead just crosses his arms and watches as you open the door to the rest of the house.

The first thing you see is candles. Little flickering spots of yellow-orange flame, winking inside clear glass votives. A trio of them on the kitchen table to the left, surrounded by a mismatched variety of trays and plates and bowls, each holding a different delicacy.

There’s a candle on the kitchen counter, next to the refrigerator. One on a bookshelf, which is filled to bowing with vinyl LP’s. Two on either side of the television, and a cluster of them on a coffee table next to a fishbowl of shiny gold squares and—

Oh.

Oh, dear.

There are limbs. Moving, writing, reaching. Hands grabbing. Mouths kissing. Mouths...doing things other than kissing. Oh, God, there’s boobs. And somebody’s butt. Aw, geez, there goes another one. How many naked people are there in here, anyways?

“Oh, hey!”

A familiar voice calls out from the fleshy throng, and your stomach drops. Like Venus emerging from the surf, you see Danma Takeru rise up from the crowd, hair mussed and smiling mouth smudged with at least two different colors of lipstick. While he does appear to be wearing some kind of brightly-patterned robe, the more he stands, the less confident you are that it’s actually covering anything.

You spin on your heel, unwilling as of the moment to become visually acquainted with your host’s penis, and you’re met once more with Aguni’s concerned stare. This time, though, you understand why he’s looking at you like that, and it makes the burn of embarrassment creeping up your neck that much hotter.

“Do you want to leave?”

This is. Oh, boy. This is a lot. Aguni must be able to sense your discomfort, although you imagine it’s rather palpable at the moment.

“I,” you say, “I don’t...know.”

And you say you don’t know because you truly don’t know what to do. Was it really so naïve of you to think that the ‘orgy’ part of the invitation was some kind of weird inside joke? Is there some kind of social protocol for these things?

You feel two hands descend upon each of your shoulders, and you try to convince yourself that they are slightly damp with sweat as opposed to any other kind of aqueous material.

“You made it,” Takeru exclaims with genuine excitement as he gives your person a gentle shake, “I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“He’s covered, don’t worry,” Aguni says to you before directing his attention over your shoulder, “I take it you didn’t tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

The hand on your right shoulder stays while the left slips away, leaving room for Takeru to stand at your side and squeeze you against him in a weird little half-hug. In another situation, you might enjoy the way the silk of his robe whispers against the skin of your arms, perhaps smile at the warm comfort of a lazy arm thrown about your shoulders like a heavy scarf, but. Well. Right now, it’s just a little...awkward.

Aguni rolls his eyes.

“About that,” he says, gesturing impatiently at the debauchery behind your back, “I mean, just look at her face.”

“Mori-chan, how could you be so rude to our lovely guest? Darling,” Takeru says, turning your face towards him with two fingers under your chin, “don’t listen to him, you’re...ah, I see what you mean.”

Is your expression really that bad? It must be, because Takeru very slowly and very carefully withdrawing his arm from around your shoulder and taking a generous step to the side. His mouth is twisted into a rather comical gaping frown, his eyes nervously darting side-to-side.

“In my defense,” he says, putting his hands up like some kind of fucked-out traffic cop at a four-way intersection, “the, uh, the orgy part was very prominent. Big letters, right at the top.”

“I,” you reply, “I thought it was...a joke?”

“This is why we don’t just hand out invitations,” Aguni grits through his teeth, “for fuck’s sake, Takeru, we’ve talked about this!”

“I know, I know. I am humble enough to admit when I’ve fucked up, and this time, I have fucked up in a truly spectacular fashion,” Takeru’s gaze shifts from horrified to quizzical as he scrutinized you for a moment, “Unless...you’d like to stay?”

You look at the pie. The slowly-warming chocolate is beginning to sweat beneath the thin film of plastic wrap you so lovingly secured with lilac ribbon.

“Or you could slap him on the way out,” Aguni offers, “he’s very slap-able.”

“It’s true! And when you slap me,” he whips his head to the side suddenly, “my hair does that and it looks really cool!”

Yeah, okay—it did look pretty cool. But, does he deserve to be slapped? Probably for something else, but not for this. It’s a simple misunderstanding, and honest mistake on both your parts.

“I want...” you start, and the way they’re looking at you, wide-eyed and breath-bated, reminds you of the final rose ceremony on The Bachelorette.

It’s kind of hilarious, actually.

“I, uh,” you continue, “I want to...to put this in the refrigerator, if that’s okay? It’s, uh, starting to melt...”

To say that Takeru’s face lights up is an understatement. With a mega-watt smile and a sparkle in his eye, he swoops his arm back around your shoulder and begins leading you towards the kitchen.

Although you have (almost) gotten used to the sea of strangers fucking and moaning in the background, you still choose to politely avert your gaze as you pass them by. You instead focus on Takeru, who has taken this opportunity to explain the inner-workings of...whatever this is.

“...And I personally see to it that these events remain exclusive,” he says, “Although I do occasionally invite outsiders, such as yourself. You were just so sweet and helpful, I couldn’t resist trying my luck and sending you an invite.”

“Thank you,” you say, “although, I, uh...”

He opens the refrigerator door and motions for you to place the pie inside. Luckily, it’s mostly empty, save for a collection of bottled water and a tin of what looks to be cat food. You’re grateful to not have to carry it around anymore, and thank him for his assistance.

It’s finally time for you to acknowledge the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’—except, you’re not exactly sure how to begin.

“I,” you start, stopping to bite your lip, “I, uh. Is it okay if I...don’t, y’know, do the whole...uh...sex thing?”

“Oh, do you prefer to watch?”

“No! I mean, no, uh,” you laugh nervously, “I’m just...”

Takeru chuckles.

“I’m only teasing. You’re more than welcome to skip the sex and go straight to the food. As long as you’re on the kitchen side, nobody will touch you. It’s one of our rules.”

He motions for Aguni to come over with a wave of his arm, smiling when the tall man comes to lean against the kitchen counter.

“Mori-chan also prefers to abstain from the more salacious aspects of our little gathering, so the two of you can keep each other company.”

“I’m usually in charge of the food,” Aguni adds, “and I try to make sure the candles stay lit.”

“I, uh, I noticed those on the way in. They’re nice.”

Takeru leans towards you as if he’s about to share a secret.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate,” he says in a low tone, “but there is a certain stench that comes with these events. Sweat, musk, various secretions...it all really adds up in the end.”

“It’s awful,” Aguni concludes, “but candles help dissipate the worst of it.”

“Oh, and the ambiance,” Takeru exclaims, “there’s just nothing like candlelight to really get people in the mood for—“

A sharp ding! makes you jump. From what you can gather, it came from the small oven to Aguni’s left.

“Hold it right there,” Takeru growls towards Aguni, who had been in the middle of donning a pair of floral-printed oven mitts, “she needs thirty more seconds.”

Aguni looks at you and rolls his eyes. You stifle a giggle behind your hand, hoping your host doesn’t notice.

“I saw that,” Takeru snips towards Aguni, “honestly, Mori-chan, you get one new friend...”

And even though he’s mid-scold, there remains a joviality to Takeru’s tone—a testament, you believe, to what can only be a long-standing friendship between him and Aguni. It’s hard not to feel jealous of their easy back-and-forth, their banter like a well-matched game of tennis.

“Now you can take her out,” Takeru says, “but, so help me God, if you don’t let her rest for seven minutes–“

“–They’ll never find my body, I know, I know,” Aguni finishes, gingerly placing a metal pan on the stove, “Look, we’ve got it handled. You can go back to your side of the party and I’ll call you when it’s plated.”

“Fine,” Takeru answers with a false pout, “but only because I know she’ll keep you honest.”

And just like that, it’s just you and Aguni once more—but, this time, he seems much more at ease to have you around. Happy, almost. It must be kind of boring, sitting alone in a kitchen while everyone else is...well, busy.

“So,” you say, moving to Aguni’s side to peer into the baking pan, “looks kind of like...a quiche?”

“Not just any quiche,” Aguni answers, opening the drawer to his right and digging a hand inside, “the best quiche in Tokyo.”

He pulls out a shiny silver chef’s knife and places it on the counter. Next comes a pair of dainty forks, delicate little things one might use for tea cakes at a French-inspired bistro. Knowing what you know about Takeru—which, granted, isn’t very much at all—it doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“You’re in front of the plates,” he says, tapping the cabinet directly in front of your face, “grab us some?”

“But we’re supposed to wait seven minutes,” you protest, all while following his instructions, “it’s only been...like, three.”

Aguni’s eyes take on a glint of mischief.

“Only a problem if we get caught.”

Honestly, it looks divine. Pillowy-soft and the perfect pale-yellow hue, delicate tendrils of steam billowing out as he drags the knife through. You hadn’t ever seen a non-rectangular quiche before, but you suppose it makes sense; there are a fair few people in attendance, and the standard circular composition wouldn’t quite feed everyone.

He serves you first. A corner piece (which he insists are the best), speckled with herbs and studded with little pieces of what you assume to be some kind of ham. Little strings of cheese stick to the blade of the knife, and Aguni scrapes them off with the side of a fork, which he then hands to you.

“Takeru doesn’t cook much,” Aguni explains, playing his own small square, “but when he does...”

The sound that comes from your mouth as you take your first bite of quiche could rival any of those happening in the orgy across the room. Oh, that is so good! Buttery crust, the salt of cheese and ham, the subtle bite of onion—and there’s something else there, something you can’t quite place, but you know it tastes absolutely heavenly. Immediately, you take another bite.

“Grew the herbs de Provence myself,” Aguni mentions, “He refuses to use store-bought.”

“Makes all the difference,” you respond, “I could eat the whole pan by myself.”

“I did that for my last birthday, actually,” Aguni chuckles around a forkful of quiche, “Takeru insisted on putting all thirty-eight candles in before carrying it to the table—you know, like a dumbass. Part of his hair caught fire, and I had to give him a haircut at two in the morning because he was so distraught.”

The two of you laugh—Aguni at the memory, and you at the idea of a tearful Takeru sulking as Aguni snipping the fried locks with a pair of kitchen shears.

“He forgave me, even though I took a whole two inches off,” Aguni sets his empty plate in the sink and looks out of the small window above it, “He’s not a bad guy, you know. Doesn’t always make the best choices, sure, but he’s got a good heart in him.”

There is a sadness here, something in Aguni that speaks to a troubled past you haven’t quite unearthed yet—and you know better than to press him, especially here, especially now.

“Well, I can’t say I’m an expert,” you say, handing him your plate, “but you two seem like decent people. Orgies aside, of course.”

“Of course,” Aguni nods, “though I don’t suppose you’ll come to the next one, will you?”

For the first time since your arrival, you allow yourself to watch the festivities happening across the room. It isn’t that bad, you suppose—it’s just a group of people having a fun time together, laughing and gasping and enjoying each others’ bodies in a safe and comfortable place. It’s not something you necessarily want to do yourself, but...well, the ‘weird’ factor of the whole thing has gone down exponentially over the past hour or so.

“And miss out on the best quiche in Tokyo,” you say, nudging against Aguni’s arm with your shoulder, “not a chance!”

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #spicy boy #morizono aguni #writings and such #THIS TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO WRITE OH MY GOD #alice in borderland fanfic #obvi this takes place before borderland #so I guess this is an au?#also I hinted at Ziggy the cat because I am self-indulgent and evil #can’t believe I actually wrote it lads

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

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ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside

➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader

➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!)

➺ wordcount: 4k

➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”

➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies

»»————-　🧸————-««

jin has a love-hate relationship with his job

you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great

on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)

but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.

this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!!

he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear

this wasn’t part of his plan!!!

his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known

but, no!

he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall

and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him

he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it

“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”

jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”

“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging

“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”

“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“

“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”

jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin

sChLuuUuRrRRRr

jesus christ

his life sucks

jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop

today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears

on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day

he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart

he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him

anyways

he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day

before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive

but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales

jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers

he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony

“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“

he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him

he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches

yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!

he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not

alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)

time to hunt down a new customer…

jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly

ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin

okay, no problem!

how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them

damn

that would’ve been a good sale, too

it’s fine

he’ll get someone!

oh, wow

build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here

to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store

…are those star wars themed teddy bears??

that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear

and she even gets her own little light sabre!

wow

this is a whole new world

“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options

is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?

the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second

although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that

okay

you know what

it’s fine

it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!

stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!

it’s not just a kiddie thing

you’re FINE

and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here

the only reason why you’re even in here is because…

well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.

which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days

which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break

(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)

anyways

you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!

so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake

food always makes you feel better

you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now

there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?

you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye

a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?

obviOUSLY you had to come in

the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from

who do you want to take home??

pawlette the bunny?

toothless from how to train your dragon?

you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to

“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)

you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall

teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!

perfect!

a classic teddy bear sounds perfect

there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics

also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child

…

you are doing this

you will buy this teddy bear!

your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea

“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”

you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”

hello indeed

you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now

you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!

very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-

thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?

the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls

this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl

well

maybe he’s the perky part

but everything else??

wowie

he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”

“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”

“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“

yeah okay

he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job

“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“

“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together

“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”

you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store

he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling

okay, you can work with that!

you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself

“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”

you look up at him immediately

“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”

“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”

“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”

jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for

you’re cute but you’re a little odd

“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”

“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”

the smile immediately drops from your face

oh god

you’ve never been very good at lying

one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day

and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’

you don’t even know why you said that!!

you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO

you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball

so yeah

lying has never been your forte

but you don’t want pawlette!!

you want this bear!!!

although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…

what are you-

what are you even sAYING

PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST

“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”

“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”

why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?

the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)

and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old

“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“

“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”

jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch

he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie

you could’ve purchased one off the online website

also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?

like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??

“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”

“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”

“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”

“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”

he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water

uh oh

what’s going on?

what’s happening??

are you…

are you crying??

why are you crying??

he was totally kidding!!!

that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!

that was supposed to be playful banter!!!

“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”

“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”

jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone

crap

he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!

maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that

actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not

“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“

“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”

he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass

when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red

if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store

you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears

not at all!!

“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart

“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”

jin purses his lips in thought

stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic

this is an important bear!

ah!

“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”

your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”

“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”

“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“

“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“

“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”

“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”

“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat

it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…

jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty

“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“

“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“

“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”

also

this isn’t you rebounding or anything

this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend

this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy

jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))

also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked

because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic

and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!

you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut

you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him

“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into

!!!

you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!

you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands

cute :-))

this was money well spent for sure

okay, now how do you activate the sound…

there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him

you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle

“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”

that was actually a pretty good message

(you hope jin texts u soon)

“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years ago

Text

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#230-221)

#230: Dschinghis Khan -- Dschinghis Khan (Germany 1979)

"Die Hufe ihrer Pferde, die peitschten im Sand Sie trugen Angst und Schrecken in jedes Land Und weder Blitz noch Donner hielt sie auf"

"The hoofs of their horses, they lashed in the sand They carried fear and horror in every country And neither flash nor thunder stopped them"

One of my favorite songs to jam to is Boney M's "Rasputin". A disco-influenced song about the life of "Russia's greatest love machine", it's energetic while telling that of a myth. I mention this because Dschinghis Khan is compared to this often, in all the ways.

Only this time, it's about the great conqueror Chinghis Khan, who took over the whole universe (and lasted for a very long time). From how he struck fear across the steppe to fathering seven children in one night, he is seen as the embodiment of masculinity.

While entertaining, sometimes I'm put off by the gimmickry. It can be argued that it wouldn't age that well today, because it can be seen as culturally appropriative or mocking Mongolian culture. But for what it's worth, it's enjoyable and still a classic today.

Personal and actual ranking: 4th/19 in Jerusalem

#229: Louisa Baïleche -- Monts et Merveilles (France 2003)

“Oh, mon amour Où es-tu, mon amour?” “Oh, my love Where are you, my love?”

A definite case of love at first listen for me—Monts et Merveilles is a calming ballad, albeit with sad lyrics about the end of a relationship. The instrumentation is quite nice; it reminds me of songs that stood out on the charts during that time. It also had the "ethnic style" percussion in the bridge, which made me think that France Televisions wanted to mix what worked in the last two years (ballads) with the ethnic sounds from the 1990s (as Louisa is half Kablye, an Algerian ethnic group)

Despite it, it got a pretty low result—though it may be because 2003 was a stronger year songwise compared to the two years that came before it. Or it maybe because of the hair getting into her face that took away from the experience...

Personal ranking: 5th/26 Actual ranking: 18th/26 in Riga

#228: Hakol Over Habibi -- Halayla (Israel 1981)

"הלילה, הלילה, יהיה זה הלילה נאמר דברים שלא אמרנו מעולם"

"Tonight, tonight, it will be the night We’ll say things we’ve never said before"

On a random note, whenever I would search up Idan Raichel's "Hakol Over", Hakol Over Habibi would be one of the first search items that pop up. I would completely ignore it until now, when they actually participated in Eurovision!

That said, Halayla is very groovy song which plays with the disco vibe of the 1970s and the highly energetic choreography that would define 1980s Israeli Eurovision entries. The instrumentation is quite awesome, with the mix of piano, strings, and I think accordion setting up the vibe. (And it switches well from minor to major and back again , which can go awry when done wrong).

The members seem to have a ball on stage, and Kikki looks beautiful in her dress, which was fitted that way because she was pregnant at the time!

Personal ranking: 5th/20 (though it jumps around often...) Actual ranking: 7th/20 in Dublin

#227: Wind -- Laß die Sonne in dein Herz (Germany 1987)

"Manchmal bist du traurig und weißt nicht warum Tausend kleine Kleinigkeiten machen dich ganz stumm Du hast fast vergessen wie das ist, ein Mensch zu sein Doch du bist nicht allein"

"Sometimes you feel sad and you don’t know why Thousands of little reasons are making you dumb You nearly forgot what it’s like to be a human being But you are not alone"

Wind has the interesting distinction of participating three times and coming in second twice out of those three. The first one, "Fur Alle" was seen as such as a big contender that there were bets made against it winning. And then it didn't.

Laß die Sonne in dein Herz didn't come that close to winning in 1987, but I can argue it's the better song of the the three.

It catches you right away with the reggae influences, which creates a relaxed vibe throughout the song. It builds up well with every key change--it does get repetitive at times (especially with the choruses), but never boring. And while it shares a similar theme to Fur Alle, it doesn't come off as either derivative or charitys-single like.

(That said, I did grow to like Fur Alle eventually, but this one was more instantaneous.)

Personal ranking: 7th/22 Actual ranking: 2nd/22 in Brussels

#226: Charlotte Perrelli -- Hero (Sweden 2008)

“This is a story of love and compassion Only heroes can tell.”

The better Charlotte song, in my opinion. The song she won with, “Take Me to Your Heaven” is a complete vintage track, almost influenced by ABBA-nostalgia going on at the time. “Hero” , while still on the same schlager vein, modernizes the production a little bit, to the point I imagine it would be a good pop song of that era.

Alongside that, Hero has some compelling lyrics, one which could summarize the hero's journey in general. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody were to write a Eurovision jukebox musical, they would use this in some format.

That may be the case on why l like it better, but it could also be because it should’ve done better in the contest. The fact the jury wildcard saved Charlotte is a reason why they're around, but the fact there was a wildcard which kicked out the actual tenth placer (North Macedonia's Let Me Love You) could be totally flawed too.

Personal ranking: 6th/43 Actual ranking: =18th/25 (with France) in Belgrade

#225: Carlos Paião -- Playback (Portugal 1981)

“Podes não saber cantar nem sequer assobiar, Com certeza que não vais desafinar, Em play-back, em play-back, em play-back,”

“Maybe you don't know how to sing or even how to whistle But you won't sing out of tune for sure, In playback, in playback, in playback”

This is so modern and infectious it’s unbelievable. From the introduction to Carlos’ biting lyrics to the choreography, it makes one wonder why it got neglected in the voting. 1981 was a strong year, sure, but this song is definitely one of the best of that field.

Playback, as the title suggests, is about the pervasiveness of lip-synching in the music industry. One day, nobody will have to learn how to sing because the playback will save them. They can all focus on the performance without taking note of the song.

It's eerily relevant to Eurovision today, considering we don't use live music anymore and backing vocals can be mimed. I have mixed feelings about the latter, because one side argues it allows different genres of music to appear, but the other argues it reduces artistic credibility. I prefer having live vocals; if a delegation wants to use them on the track (e.g. looping), it should be on a case-by-case basis.

Maybe that's why it somehow made the ESC250 the last two years...

Personal ranking: 4th/20 Actual ranking: =18th/20 (with Turkey) in Dublin

#224: Emma -- La mia città (Italy 2014)

“E dimmi se c’è davvero una meta O dovrò correre per la felicità”

“And tell me if there really is a destination Or I have to run for happiness”

The black sheep of Italy’s post-comeback output, and coincidentally the only song completely chosen internally. That being said, La mia citta is still a good song, and for me it’s better than some of the fan-favorites out there.

Admittedly, I prefer the punchy verses to the chorus, with the latter reminding me of something out of P!nk's discography, but I revel on Emma’s energy and her letter to the city of Rome. We have struggles about the place we are from, but still try to sing its praises when we can!

The staging was a bit tacky at times, but I did like the aesthetics of it—particularly her laurel wreath. Her costume had a good concept also, but is also overdone it in terms of the bejeweled top.

(As for the Sanremo winner that year, Contravento, it feels like a bit of a grower. The clarinet intro really takes one in, but there has to be a whimsical, sweet staging to accompany the hopeful song. Had they done so, a left-side finish would've waited for them)

Personal ranking: 6th/37 Actual ranking: 21st/26 in Copenhagen

#223: Brigitta -- Open Your Heart (Iceland 2003)

“Everything you share with me Turns a little darkness into light And that is how we’re meant to be Truth will keep the light shining brighter”

Also known as, the woman who originally came from Husavik! The difference is that Birgitta was the lead singer of the group Irafar. Open Your Heart reminds me of songs that end up on DCOM (Disney Channel Original Movie) soundtracks—it can actually work in the end, but also in the beginning to introduce the characters and/or their circumstances. The random running order really helped it with being first, haha! Beyond that, it's an optimistic song, helped with the guitar influences which ground it in the era. Plus, the production and lyrics add to this feel, encouraging even the shiest to open up their feelings. Also, I like the flowery aesthetic that Birgitta has, from one in her hair to the larger one (which I think is real?) on her microphone. Personal ranking: 4th/26 Actual ranking: 8th/26 in Riga

#222: Tomas Ledlin -- Just nu! (Sweden 1980)

“Han vill dra iväg, kanske ner till Paris Och hitta äventyret på något vis Inte sitta här på stans konditori Och låta tankarna, bara fladdra förbi” “He wants to go away, perhaps down to Paris And find adventure somehow And not just sitting here at the local café Just letting the thoughts flutter by” The 1980s saw the genre New Wave come to vogue, and Just Nu was a valiant attempt on the genre, especially considering the direction Eurovision would go later. From the opening notes, I got the punkish notes from the instrumentation, and the lyrics definitely add to the feeling of being free from societal expectations, crying out "right now"! (which is funny, because I learned Romanian at one point and nu means no in the language. So I keep thinking it's "just no!" against conformity) Tomas also shows quite the attitude on stage--he just struts into the stage with a boyish charm and kickstarts the song. With his looks and usage of the microphone stand, he portrays this rebellious character well, though the orchestration could’ve been improved with the strings and flute. Personal ranking: 2nd/19 Actual ranking: 10th/19 in Den Haag

#221: Lea Sirk -- Hvala, ne! (Slovenia 2018)

“Moje ime je Lea in/Za vas imam nov lik!” “My name is Lea/ And I have a new character for you!”

I love the opening lines for this song—it immediately sets the tone and has a strong statement alongside it. She's Lea, and she won't let anything down on She asserts that she can’t be sold out, and has a great attitude to accompany the trap beat, which reminds me of a K-pop song for some reason. The staging fits the song to a T--though it didn't need any changes from the NF, haha. As for the fake break, I don't have any strong opinions on it, but it definitely kept up interest for the song. A nicer touch was the Portuguese line in the end. Either way, it was a surprise qualifier in its semi that year, and it was one surprise that I greatly welcomed. Hvala da!

Personal ranking: 8th/43 Actual ranking: 22nd/26 GF in Lisbon

#esc 250 #esc top 250 #esc germany #esc france #esc israel #esc sweden #esc portugal #esc italy #esc iceland #esc slovenia #three minutes to eternity #eurovision song contest

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constantfluxx · 5 years ago

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FAREWELL WANDERLUST BY THE AMAZING DEVIL FOR THE TUNE CRUISE * SCREAMS *

HI I AM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED FAREWELL WANDERLUST AND FORGOT TO SPECIFY WHICH SHIP. OF COURSE. GERASKIER OR JASKIER POV WHATEVER REALLY, OK? THANKS. ILU.

🎶The Evening Earworm Tune Cruise: The SS 200🎶

Port of Call: Geraskier! 🐺👨‍🎤Itinerary: Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing DevilCaptain: @kiomaya 🧜‍♀️

Farewell Wanderlust, you’ve been oh oh so kindYou brought me through this darkness but you left me here behindAnd so long to the person you begged me to be

He took in a deep, steadying breath. His fingers trembled around the neck of his lute. Eyes closed, he mentally coached himself, willing his nerves to settle at least long enough for his voice to sing true. It’s just another performance. How many times have you done this before? It’s no big deal.

Except he knew he was lying to himself.

This was hardly “just another performance.” Far from it. It took him forever to finally write a song sharing Geralt’s “defeat” of the dragon with the world. Even longer to perform it. And, when he finally did, it was… not his best work. One could hardly expect him to sing such a tale with such passion and intrigue when its epilogue was laced with a pain he couldn’t bring himself to bare. It was technically perfect, as his work of late usually was, but the emotion was missing. He was missing.

This song… This performance… This is where it had run off to. Where it’d been hiding ever since his return from that mountainside. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to finally recognize it as the problem - or perhaps he’d known all along, but refused to acknowledge it because it would reopen too many wounds, resurface too much hurt. Finally, the lacerations across his heart had begun to scar just enough for him to look, to examine, to embrace.

All that had happened… It was an indisputable part of him now, no matter how much pain it caused him, and would continue to cause him. He couldn’t move forward while leaving a part of him in the past - it was all or nothing, and he understood that now.

He doubted the unsuspecting townsfolk filling their bellies at the local tavern particularly cared to hear about his heartbreak. Songs of joy and adventure and triumph tended to draw far more coin than songs of misery and suffering and defeat. But this wasn’t for coin, not primarily anyhow. For this one song, this one performance, it wasn’t about the job.

It was bout reclaiming himself. About owning his life. About declaring his agony so irrefutably that he would have no choice but to recognize it as his own and finally, finally, start to address it head-on.

And wasn’t that a kind of personal victory, in its own, awful way?

He opened his eyes. He gazed out upon his feasting audience, upon their grumbling banter and stomping feet and clanking flagons. And he saw hair of white, and swords of silver, and eyes of yellow.

Delicate, flitting fingertips plucked away the beginning notes, deceptively light and whimsical. His voice followed in sweet accompaniment, painting the first syllable in a long, arcing embrace before twirling into its prancing opening measure.

“You look like I need a drink he winked as he slipped from my grasp to the barAnd you are?”

As he rounded out the opening lyrics, the catchy, playful tune drew those listening ears into a light nodding alongside his rhythm. Just as he’d once been distracted by Geralt’s splendor, so too were they taken by his light sing-song, and even as something more sinister began to sneak between his words they sooner suspected the start of some grand tale than the foreboding of tragedy.

Sooner just evidence of the Witcher’s social neglect than a pattern of distancing dissent.

“Every time that you fumble, I’m the laugh from the backWhen you think about him, my wings start to flapWhen you make a mistake, my feet lift from the floorAnd when you lie there awake every night love, I soar”

The notes were turning darker. The words weren’t turning towards a new tomorrow. Rather than circle back, they basked in their darkness, reveled in the furrowed brows and wary glances. His pace built, the ebb and flow of his song’s tide swirling into a tumultuous churning from shore to shore. Too late to swim to safety, the listening hearts searched for the sun - surely it was just around the corner, just after the next typhoon?

Surely, he’d come to his senses and warm up to the company?

“I’m the heartbreak that aches far too much to be shownAll those letters unsent and that garden ungrownI’m the captain of courage you’ve eternally lackedI’m the Jesus of wishing to Christ he’ll come back”

The wave crashed down upon them. Hope of survival glimmered in its wake, breaking free of the surface for a vital breath of precious air. A single ray of sunlight touched their faces… but it proved only to be the eye of a surmounting storm, one which raged more furiously than anything before it. It dragged them back down into his suffering, and like troublesome dogs their faces were forced to behold his wretched distress. But rather than recoil away from the filth, they stared, held in place by the voice that wrapped around their necks like nooses. They witnessed the unfolding of his wounded heart, the casting aside of the love that had poisoned it, and the thrashing of his despair in this pit he’d been left in.

How could someone so beautiful be capable of something so cruel?

“Come devil come, she sang, call out my nameLet’s take this outside cos we’re one and the sameOur god has abandoned us, left us, insteadTake up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead”

The notes of his lute had slowed once more, heavy and trudging. Where once had been whimsy now there rang spite: a lesson learned, and with it the reckless abandon of love’s unburdened prisoner. Only here, at the very depths of his sorrow, could all his emotion at last gather into a crude ladder he could use to pull himself out. Because Love had cast him down, he stood up. Because Love had said he couldn’t, he did. Because Love demanded he stay, broken and defeated, he threw Love away, put himself back together, and reached for something new.

He didn’t know what kind of life could possibly come after Geralt, but he knew, at least, that he’d rather search and know than never even look.

“Farewell Wanderlust, you’ve been oh oh so kindYou brought me through this darkness but you left me here behindAnd so long to the person you begged me to beHe’s down. He’s dead.Now take a long look at what you’ve done to me?”

It was hardly a happy resolution. It was ugly and gritty and tormented, but then what else could have ever come from this war? Nonetheless, as he led his audience into this final arch of their journey, his song blossomed into a kind of vindictive triumph, one that dared the world to try, just try and drag him back into the darkness. It would not, it must not, they collectively swore.

Perhaps, one day, Geralt would come back. It’d be splendid if he did - truly. For then, he could see the rotting carcass of the man Jaskier had to shed in order to forge himself anew. Then, maybe, he’d realize the sins he’d committed, recognize the way he’d sheared Jaskier’s heart to shreds and cast them off the mountainside.

But whether or not he ever did would no longer be a thing Jaskier concerned himself with.

“He’s down, He’s deadHe’s gone, He’s lostHe’s flown, He’s fledNow take a good long look at what you've all done to me”

As Jaskier declared his final words to the crowd, his fingers flew along the strings of his lute, releasing its last, swelling vibrato through the small tavern. The sound grew and grew, until at last it burst into an abrupt silence that swept in and suffocated what few lingering embers might still yet burn for the captivating Witcher.

For a suspenseful moment, not a soul dared disturb it, and even when the daily rumblings of the tavern began to creep back into place no one offered applause - such a thing just didn’t seem right after such an emotional experience as the one which had just unfolded all around them. Not even Jaskier himself offered any levity to the situation, trading his usual bow and playful quip for a simple nod of his head, more for himself than his audience. A small, silent affirmation of his deed, a thanks he afforded himself for finally releasing his pain to the winds of change.

He turned from them and retreated back to his sparse belongings, joining the rest in the tavern in a strange normalcy that pretended like nothing had ever happened. Not but a single soul challenged it, stepping towards him so quietly he hadn’t noticed them until a tiny, trembling finger touched the sleeve of his doublet. Startled, he turned to regard his visitor, a now-distant corner of his mind wondering if he’d find a calloused hand gloved in black.

Of course not. The touch had been too small, too flighty, too careful.

She stared up at him with a round, teary-eyed face, mouth hanging slightly ajar as she still searched for something to say. Studying him, seeing her own shaken state reflected in him, her brow furrowed, and in her eyes he saw an approaching understanding. At last, she murmured, taken with frightful awe, “That... was miserable... ?”

His eyes flickered down, catching the glint of a small trio of coins sequestered in her upturned palm. He knew well what her drifting, questioning inflection reached for, but he only smiled and shook his head, folding her fingers closed around her coin.

“Sometimes, my dear,” he whispered, voice still shuddering from lingering passion, “life is miserable.”

He paused. Chuckled. Hoisted his lute upon his shoulder by the strap of its case.

“And that’s okay.”

#The Witcher #Geraskier #Geralt #Jaskier #The Amazing Devil #fanfiction #writing prompts #fluxx fics #The Tune Cruise #The SS 200 #kiomaya #lmaoooooo #love you too boo ;*

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emeraldtawny · 5 years ago

Text

My Ikemen Vampire OCs

Been a while since I’ve done anything with OCs and I’m not sure if I’ll be using these boyos in fics or the like. I just wanted to add my own suitors based on some historical figures that caught my attention and thought would be cool to bring back as sexy vampires uwu~

Picrew used can be found here.

Marco Polo

Thomas Jefferson

Sigmund Freud

~Details under the cut~

Marco Polo

The Wide-Eyed Explorer

Adventurous x Oblivious

“Life's all about finding something out there in this great wide world that hasn't been discovered yet. How about it, Signorina? Want to take the risk with me?”

An explorer renowned for his treks from Europe to Asia, his documentation of his travels are known the world over. Yearning for knowledge yet grounded in his ideals, he enjoys exploring this “distant future” of 19th century France and pauses to marvel at every detail and moment he can. He accepted the taste of immortality so he could further explore the world. However, the dynamic, rocky expanse of love is one journey even the great Marco Polo wasn’t prepared for.

Birthday: September 15th

Height: 177cm (5’9”)

Occupation: Merchant

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Exploring, Collecting trinkets (hoarding), Taking notes

Dislikes: Staying indoors

Specialty: Storytelling, Charisma

Weaknesses: Lying

Favourite Food: Pasta

Hated Food: Ginger

Pet: Monkey named Viaggio

Random Tidbits

Wears two dangling coin earrings, as a symbol of the currency he knew before learning of and introducing paper money to Europe.

Responsible for bringing noodles - and consequently, pasta - back to Italy. One of his proudest accomplishments, he says.

Gets incredibly pouty when people doubt his memoirs or if he even made it to China at all.

Is endlessly fascinated by the different culture of this “new world” and will ask endless questions to gain knowledge.

Gets flustered and oddly prideful over how many other important figures of history looked to his experiences to guide them (Of course, he is most proud of the children’s game named after him).

Most of his memoirs were written in prison and by his cellmate. *A/N: hmmm, I wonder who comes back to smite him :3*

Is uncharacteristically frugal and likes to hoard any “unique” treasures he finds (most of them are commonplace items, but rare to Marco).

Favourite Place To Bite: Shoulder. He just gets incredible pleasure sinking his teeth into the flesh of the shoulder, and it works in tandem to muffle the groans that threaten to slip through his lips as he feeds. And if they bite him back on his shoulder, he is gone. His arms will always be snaked around their waist and whether he’s pressed against their back or front, he’s absorbed in his feeding so fully that sometimes he doesn’t know when to pull back until it’s too much.

Associates With:

Leonardo - The pureblood quite enjoys the boundless vibrant energy of his fellow Italian, and is more than happy to show him around the city and listen to the younger man’s detailed recounts of what he’s seen. They fuel each other’s insatiable need for new things to learn.

Dazai - Enjoys teasing him for his cluelessness about the world. The mansion’s residents don’t know whether to intervene, as both seem oblivious to the other’s intentions in their odd conversations.

Sebastian - Usually on the butler’s bad side for the constant clutter of “souvenirs” he always returns with. However, is rewarded with the whimsical story recounting of THE Marco Polo, so it isn’t all bad.

How He Met MC

After MC had attended dinner and was making her way to Comte’s room, she almost gets knocked off her feet as she collides with someone whilst lost in thought. Things fall to the floor and she quickly apologises and kneels down to help pick up the fallen items. As she lifts her head, she’s met with a head of white wispy locks and kind ice-blue eyes staring back at her behind his round spectacles. He takes the things back from her and they both return to their feet. “Grazie Mille, Signorina.” He says through a grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. You must be new around here.”

“Oh, um--”

(Is he a famous figure of history too? He looks nice enough.)

Her thoughts are cut off as Sebas comes into the hallway and seems ready to scold the young man for bringing in another assortment of useless trinkets. He pouts a little and says that these are unique and a brand new discovery that he must look into for their use. Sebas sighs, notices MC and asks if he has introduced himself to her yet. He blinks and exclaims in realisation before turning back to MC with a sheepish, boyish grin.

“It seems I forgot to introduce myself to you, Signorina. My name is Marco Polo. I’m a merchant and an explorer.”

(M-Marco Polo?!)

After MC learns the truth about the mansion and its residents, she’s on her guard as she walks aimlessly around the mansion, avoiding everyone she can for fear of them biting her. She stops as she passes the archive at the sound of a happy tune being hummed. She peeks in to see Marco cross-legged on the floor with a pile of junk in front of him. Yet the way he’s observing each piece makes her believe every single one is an irreplaceable treasure. He adjusts his glasses and inspects the map in his hands with an inquisitive gaze, his excitement of a new discovery at his fingertips vibrant and infectious.

She’s so lost watching him that she hardly realises that she’s entered the archive, her feet naturally bringing her towards him. He stops humming and turns to meet her curious eyes with a wink.

“Oh! Perfecto! Just the woman I was hoping to see!”

He says it so heartfeltly that she feels her heart leap.

“Would you happen to know what these are? Since you’re from the future, you’d likely have a better idea than me.”

She hesitantly sits down across from him, still unsure yet compelled to help him, the kind, yearning aura surrounding him too strong to resist. [First CG of them looking over the pile of junk. Marco gesturing wide as he imagines the uses of a simple silver spoon and MC staring at him like “...it’s a spoon, not a lightning rod.”]

As she listens to him, she asks him why he finds joy in collecting these everyday items. He blinks at her...before bursting out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Really I am. It’s just I never get tired of hearing that question. To me, that question means that there are people out there who have grown accustomed to what’s around them. So much so that something they see every day has lost its beauty to their eyes. I truly believe that everything out there - discovered or not - has a story, a meaning. No matter how mundane it may be, everything has a unique beauty in this world.”

(That’s...such a wonderful outlook on life.)

...

Thomas Jefferson

The Repentant Sinner

Awkward x Earnest

“I cannot see the merits of wanting to get to know me. So, why can’t I stop you from doing so?”

A diplomat and a scholar, the one thing Thomas Jefferson cannot say he is versed in is the art of conversation. Despite this, he isn’t shy. He simply prefers to observe and document what is around him. Intelligent and soft-spoken, he seems to be more driven in his immortal life despite his tremendous accomplishments in his human life. What so greatly motivated him to be reborn as a vampire?

Birthday: April 13th

Height: 190cm (6'2")

Occupation: Diplomat don't mention the P-word

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Writing, Violin

Dislikes: Public speaking

Specialty: Writing documents (in silence)

Weaknesses: Conversation, His reputation

Favourite Food: Vegetables (selective vegetarian)

Hated Food: Liver

Pet: Mockingbird named Quill

Random Tidbits

Can speak 4 languages (English, Latin, French and Italian) and can communicate through writing in a further two languages (Greek and Spanish).

Wears multiple rings and a wrist cuff on his right hand, as he had dislocated his wrist in his human life yet the bones failed to set right when healing. The discomfort continues as a vampire, though less painful.

His voice is quiet, mellow and of a tenor pitch. He can barely string more than three sentences together unless speaking in private and about a topic he is knowledgeable in.

Developed mild insomnia since becoming a vampire. Coupled with his periodic headaches, some days he will be completely inconsolable.

Enjoys writing and listening to his mockingbird sing in the comfort of his room.

Completely freezes and nearly breaks down when reminded of the dark underbelly of his legacy.

Has no less than four feather quills on his person wherever he goes.

Favourite Place To Bite: Fingers. Feeding on a body part with a smaller surface area helps him pace himself and prevent more harm than necessary. But he truly enjoys piercing his fangs into the tip of the index and middle fingers, giving a cursory suck before withdrawing and taking the fingers into his mouth to suck them that way; he doesn’t wish to harm anyone with his bites if he can help it. Of course, sometimes he can’t help it when he’s lost in bloodlust.

Associates With:

Isaac - Enjoys his quiet companionship. They usually sit in the archive together, working on their different projects in complete silence.

Napoleon - Occasionally goes to the Frenchman requesting a feather from his eagle to make into a new quill. Napoleon agrees under the condition he helps him teach the schoolchildren, something he begrudgingly agrees to.

How He Met MC

The first time she meets Thomas is at her welcoming dinner. She baulks slightly at the height of him and the broad set of his shoulders being accentuated by his perfectly fitted dress shirt. He meets her gaze and nods politely towards her before taking his seat and idly staring down at and fiddling with his rings. She whispers to Napo if she somehow offended him, but he assures her that that’s just how Thomas is; not the best at striking up a conversation.

When introductions come up, he’s one of the last to speak and definitely the least enthusiastic. He clears his throat softly and makes eye contact with MC, his gaze oddly intense as if forcing himself to meet her eye.

“Thomas Jefferson. Diplomat. A pleasure.”

(Thomas Jefferson. He was important in American history if I remember correctly. Can’t say I know much more than that.)

When Sebas (and Arthur) get it through MC’s head that she’s now in a mansion of vampires, she immediately runs out of the kitchen and just panic runs. She ends up in the foyer and almost collapses with relief because she can finally escape this place. Before she can reach the door, however, she realises there’s someone else right in front of the door, pacing back and forth as if in a trance.

(Oh great. They have someone on guard as well? Even more reason to get out of here!)

She tries to slip by, but the man notices her and stops his pacing to stare at her, saying nothing. MC feels overwhelmed by his gaze and starts to shake. His eyes widen and he goes to reach for her.

“Are you--?”

“Get away from me! Vampire! Monster! Don’t touch me!!”

She swats his hand away and makes a break for the door, but Thomas grabs her around the waist, pinning her arms down. She thrashes and begins to feel tears pricking her eyes when Sebas emerges. Thomas turns to him and asks him to take the young lady to her room. He immediately releases her from his hold and whispers a soft “I apologise for scaring you.” before walking back to his room with long strides.

Back in her room, she reflects on what happened and realises that his grip on her wasn’t tight enough to harm her and instead, he was likely as panicked as she was.

(Even if he is a vampire, it was clear he was trying to protect me. And I called him a monster…)

The next day, she asks Sebas to show her where Thomas’ room is so she can apologise to him. Sebas says to try the archive instead and shows her the way. She knocks on the door and peeks inside.

Sitting at a desk and brandishing a feather quill, Thomas writes like his life depends on it, his eyes - while still heavy and tired with dark circles - seem focused with an intensity that leaves MC dumbfounded. [First CG of him deep in his scribing, unaware of the pretty lady who watches him with her attention rapt.]

(He writes as if he’s possessed. I feel like if I interrupted him now, I’d be ruining the very nature of his being.)

She waits until he lets out a soft sigh and sets down his quill. When he finally notices her presence, he blinks, a deer in the headlights. His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“Um...can I help you?”

...

Sigmund Freud

The Cold Elitist

Analytical x Insatiable

“Such honest eyes. Yet such boring simplicity in your actions and thoughts.”

An Austrian neurologist whose work helped to shape modern psychology. His work with brains and how they shape our conscious and unconscious mind - his book The Interpretation of Dreams using his own brain as the study - made him observant and insightful; in a holier-than-thou way in most cases. He is private and distancing, yet fiercely loyal to those he deems worthy enough to be close to him. His own findings concluded that personality and unconscious thoughts cannot be so easily swayed. Until he meets you...

Birthday: May 6th

Height: 180cm (5’10”)

Occupation: Neurologist (despises the term psychologist being attributed to him)

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Smoking cigars, People watching, Reading

Dislikes: Being referred to by his first name (Call him Freud or you’ll get one hell of a death stare)

Specialty: Psychoanalysis, Picking apart people’s thoughts

Weaknesses: Accepting defeat or wrongdoing, Smiling through his eyes

Favourite Food: Artichoke

Hated Food: Anything American

Pet: Frog named Ego

Random Tidbits

He has a pet frog because of his early work as a medical student, where he studied frog brains to determine the difference between vertebrate and invertebrate brains. And named his pet after one of the terms he coined of the human psyche, representing the balance of our desires and morality.

Used to smoke cigars heavily, so much so that he developed mouth cancer which led to his eventual human death. Picked the habit back up again after being revived as a vampire.

Had a therapy dog when he was human. Sneaks pets to Vic and King whenever he can.

Was quoted saying “The goal of all life is death.”, yet accepted the offer to be granted eternal life (he chuckles bitterly at himself over this fact).

Was a firm Shakespeare sceptic and remains so into his vampire life. Any conversation he has with Shakespeare usually ends with him bad-mouthing him in German and proclaiming that the Earl of Oxford was the true writer of his plays.

Continues to write books about his discoveries, yet keeps them unpublished.

Is joked as being sex-obsessed (by Arthur of all people), but stands by his claims that sexual wishes and desires play into how a person’s mentality is shaped.

Favourite Place To Bite: Stomach. The way the muscles flex and spasm around his fangs is exquisite in every meaning of the word. He enjoys slowly sliding the blouse up, letting his hands trail slowly to feel the goosebumps that prickle on the skin, before biting right on the curve of the waist.

Associates With:

Comte - The one man who may call him by his first name. Feels indebted to him for another chance at life.

Mozart - Short yet calm conversations between the two Austrians happen every so often; about what, who can say?

Arthur - Pesters Freud for psychoanalytical techniques he can incorporate into his Holmes novels. Gives him the bare minimum to leave him alone. Absolutely loathes the nickname the Brit gives him (“Siggy”).

How He Met MC

When MC first encounters him, Freud is at the dining table with Mozart, Theo, Vincent and Isaac. As soon as he hears the commotion and she enters for dinner, he abruptly stands and leaves without a word, only sparing a cold stare that she feels in the pit of her stomach.

Her first true encounter with him is after Sebas tries to tell her that her housemates are vampires and she runs into him in the hallway. She notes that his eyes of metal run just as cold as the first time she met his gaze, but she still tries to greet him (Comte told her about him briefly at dinner, saying his name is Sigmund). When she addresses him as such, his lips twitch in distaste and harshly tells her not to call him that.

Being MC, she bites back a little, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

”For a meek little thing, you certainly try to bark, don’t you?”

“Hey, I don’t need another person in this mansion referring to me as a dog!”

“Hm. Very well then, Rotznase.”

(Did....did he just call me a brat?!) *A/N: no, MC. He called you a snot-nosed brat*

She goes to bite back again, but something in his eyes stops her dead. Like they can see into her soul, see the exact way her brain ticks. He exudes a harsh aura that makes her want to run, but the power of his eyes on her has her paralysed, like a predator staring down its defenceless prey. He scoffs at her before asking if she knows what he is. When she doesn’t respond, he sighs in annoyance before grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall, hard. [First CG of this kabedon-strangling hybrid. 2/10, not sexy and probably hurts too much.]

”You’re a foolish little girl. And unfortunate in your luck. If you had crossed paths with any of the other beasts in these halls, you may have gotten away with nothing more than nightmares.”

His hand on her throat tightens, constricting her windpipe and cutting off her air supply, the petrified horror in her eyes only increasing as he bares his fangs to her.

”I am not a lenient man, I never have been. And this is no dream. You’re just an unlucky human. No offence intended.”

Just as his hand tightens further and he leans over her, Arthur of all people is the one to save her. He grabs Freud’s collar and yanks him back, barking at him not to scare the bird. Freud only gives an annoyed huff before strolling away as if he never had any part in it. MC loses strength in her knees and passes out from fear, and Arthur brings her to her room before heading to Comte to tell him what occurred.

The following day, Comte invites MC out to the garden for a chat. He confirms that the residents are all men of history brought back from death as vampires, and he apologises for Freud’s less than savoury approach at drilling the message in.

”Listen well, ma Cherie. The men in this mansion may be vampires, but they all show restraint. Sigmund, however, is an unusual case. He is prone to frenzies, where he’s so consumed with bloodlust that he cannot control himself. For your own safety, I would suggest having as little contact with him as possible.”

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #original characters #ikevam marco #ikevam thomas #ikevam freud #I'll make tags for them just in case I decide to do anything more with these guys #I've gotten this far so might as well right? bgedngf #lowkey-highkey thinking of commissioning someone to draw them #I've got outfits in mind for them...tho tbh this picrew had clothes quite similar to what I wanted #we'll see..anyway enjoy my pride and joy vamp bois ^w^

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haikyuulovercompany · 5 years ago

Note

Eek! I’m so excited for request to be open!! Can make a request for Iwaizumi? In which, the reader and Iwaizumi have a kid together, but they’re not together anymore. And so, they don’t get along very well. But in secrecy, the reader actually still harbors feelings for Iwaizumi, and their child snitches on her to their dad. When the topic comes up at the dinner table, the reader is forced to admit the truth. Iwaizumi’s kinda shocked and weirded out, but also kinda wants to date her again.

This took me longer than expected to write, but I hope you enjoy it!! I kind of changed the idea of the narrative BUT here it is (: ENJOYY !!!

PAIRING: IWAIZUMI HAJIME X FEM! READER.

---

One of the biggest reasons people avoided to dive into marriage, was the possibility of divorce. However, the vast majority of society bet it wouldn’t be their case. Iwaizumi had been one of those foolish enough to believe his relationship would never suffer such demise. He loved _____ so intensely it sometimes seemed to be endless. He could stare at the horizon their relationship was, as it extended as the sea did. He couldn’t tell where it stopped. But he was young and lacked experienced. Love would be enough, he had thought back then, and he had been very wrong. Love was the first stone for a solid marriage. The rest was a convoluted series of virtues and vices both had to work out and simultaneously make the decision to pull through.

They had failed at the task. They had fallen into the jaws of the routine until their relationship grew up stagnant. It hadn’t been an easy decision. After almost a decade together—from college where they met all the way to their early thirties—and a five-year-old boy they both loved beyond their physicality. Iwaizumi would sometimes spend hours staring at his son. He wondered what he could be dreaming about, he wondered about his own abilities as a father, especially when his marriage had failed.

It had been for the better. They were becoming strangers who could only snap at the other if they weren’t ignoring each other. How could the perfect relationship that had drove him into ecstasy so easily had become deadweight on his shoulders?

At first, he didn’t know. He was both relieved and saddened when he arrived at his flat. It was only him. No kiss from his wife or shouts of hoy from his son. He treated his divorce with the same fashion he would treat a regular break up. That’s how little he actually knew. You couldn’t simply get over the mother of your child, over the woman you surely swore was your companion for your short eternity on earth. That was his first lesson.

The second was the loss of communication with ______. He had thought the feelings they had felt for each other had died through their day to day life, and there wasn’t anything left to do. The reality was that love didn’t simply die. They had neglected each other. They had forgotten to talk, to have small and big details to help the other get through their issues—work it together. The had become two independent beings instead of working like a team. He had many regrets—many things he would do different.

It didn’t matter much anyway. It was too late. He was entering his second year as a divorced man and his five-year-old was now seven and the three of them had fallen into their new dynamic. They had adapted. Iwaizumi got out of his car and walked to the entrance of the building. He rang two times. “Hi, who’s there?” a very childish voice spoke. Iwaizumi smiled.

“A monster.”

Tiny giggled were heard. “Hi, dad! I’ll let you in!”

The buzzer went off and Iwaizumi entered the building. _____ had moved after their divorce. She had rented a different apartment not too far from their original home, or at least what have been their first home as a family. He had stayed a little longer in their old flat. He had due to their contract and it had been a slow torture. Two months later he was free and he rented his own flat. He had liked somewhere closer his son but that year wasn’t his year by any means.

He knocked on the now familiar door 401.

The door was thrown open abruptly, making a big slamming noise against the wall. “Eiichi!” ______ screamed, her quick steps coming fast from down the hall. She came to a halt and the air left her mouth when she was met with Iwaizumi laid back postured with his eyes planted in her. She seemed to stunned Iwaizumi couldn’t help arching an eyebrow. “Are you okay, _____?” He was always careful when saying her name, as if it was forbidden to him to say it. This was another heartbreaking sign of how radically everything could change between two persons.

“I am. Sorry. I forgot today was your day,” she admitted. “Let me go get Eiichi’s bag ready. Come in, if you want.”

She was gone before Iwaizumi could say anything else. He nodded to himself and closed the door. Eiichi was soon all over him, telling him about his latest adventure. He was barely five years old. He was discovering the world. Everything was whimsical and mysterious to him, and as a father, it was an endearing process to watch. He wished he could be there on a daily basis to see every step of the way. He would be surprised of the strong nostalgia he was undergoing, but with the second anniversary of his divorce so closed, he was bound to feel like that.

______ came back with a red backpack and handed it to Iwaizumi, offering a fleeting smile. “There’s everything he will need for tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll bring him back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sure.” Silence invaded the room and Iwaizumi knew it was his queue to leave. He got up with the red backpack hanging from his shoulder and gave ______ one last glance before walking out the apartment together with Eiichi, who continued rambling with his clumsy words and ill-formed sentences.

Iwaizumi carried his son and securing him into the backseat and after checking it twice, he went to the front seat and left. The nostalgia eventually dissipated. His son took over his attention and he had no time to travel down memory lane about the life he used to have. The days he spent with Eiichi were the ones he cherished the most, but they were also the most exhausting. He had been warned about the shot of energy children got around the age Eiichi was, and they had not been wrong. After a whole day at the park, running and climbing around, he had finally given Eiichi a bath, put on his pajamas and settled him in the small dinner table adjacent to his living room. The television was playing from across the room. The cartoon was hypnotizing the little boy, who sometimes forgot to chew and left his mouth hung open watching it. Iwaizumi had to give small nudges to Eiichi for him to continue eating.

A divorce could be vicious and Iwaizumi had heard horror stories about it. Not to say his had gone smoothly, but it had been more about the grudges he and _____held against each other, the issues they had kept unspoken and had led to the failure of their marriage. There hadn’t been cheating or someone new in the picture. It was just them and poor communication. They had put those differences aside and concurred to share custody because at least both agreed Eiichi didn’t have to pay for mistakes that weren’t his. Therefore, Iwaizumi had rented a flat with an extra room for Eiichi. It wasn’t a simple guest room, it was decorated accordingly to his age. It was for him and no one else.

Iwaizumi pulled out the bedsheet and signaled Eiichi with his head. “Come on. Get in.”

He did as told and climbed the bed until he was sitting down, his legs hanging from the edge. Iwaizumi knelt, taking off the pair of slippers ______ had included for Eiichi to use. “Are you and mom getting back together?” he suddenly asked, taking his father aback.

“Why do you ask?”

“I checked mom’s drawer and she has a picture of the two of you.”Iwaizumi’s curiosity sparked up. “What drawer?”

“In her room. She sometimes takes it out but then it’s inside the drawer again. That’s why I checked. She doesn’t know I checked.”

He smiled apologetically to him. “Well, there’s no plan for that happening. I’m sorry, bud.”

Eiichi looked down, swinging his legs a couple times before getting inside the covers. “It’s okay.”

Iwaizumi kissed his forehead. The hint of sadness in Eiichi’s face broke him to the core. The more he grew, the more he discovered and rationalized the circumstances around him, and life didn’t go easy on anybody and it pained Iwaizumi to know there were going to be many situations where he wouldn’t be able to protect Eiichi. He tugged the covers a little bit higher and turned the lights off. He left the door slightly ajar and stood still on the spot. He had never seen a picture of _____ and him in her apartment. He had been there a lot, he would’ve noticed his face. He pondered on the piece of information Eiichi had thrown out of pure curiosity. Could it be that ______ wasn’t entirely over them? Could she still think about him? Perhaps and she wondered as much as him what could’ve happened if they had tried a little bit more, a little bit harder.

Iwaizumi tried to go to sleep, too, but it was around two in the morning, after endless runarounds in his head he was able to fall asleep. The last thing in his mind was his wife, and even after, she appeared in his dreams.

….

He woke up to his son opening the door and climbing into his bed. Eiichi poked him on the cheek a couple times. “Dad, I’m hungry.”

Iwaizumi groaned and then yawned. “I’m coming.” Eiichi jumped two times and then off of the bed. “Careful,” he oredered, his voice still raspy, but Eiichi was already running down the hallway.

Thankfully, he had remembered to get frozen waffles. He warmed up a pair in the toaster for Eiichi and another pair for him. He cut a slice of butter for each waffle and took both plates to the living room. Breakfast was quiet with Eiichi again hypnotized by some cartoon. This gave time Iwaizumi to spend more time with his thoughts. He couldn’t stop going over as of why ______ still had a picture of them in her nightstand, and why was she hiding it? She didn’t have it for Eiichi, if that was the case she would let him have it. She wasn’t even showing the picture to him.

Maybe… just Maybe…

He decided to take Eiichi earlier back to his mother. He wouldn’t be able to shake off his doubts and he had never been a man to shy away. If their relationship had spiraled down, they could pick it back up. They had been fantastic together once, and if he was honest with himself, he missed his life with them. He missed seeing Eiichi daily, not missing a bit of his life. And he missed ______. He missed her as his wife, as his partner.

He pulled on her street half past six—a couple hours before he had to. Eiichi didn’t question. He had no idea at what time he was supposed to arrive, either way. However, ______ was surprised to see him there so early. Eiichi ran past her and disappeared inside the flat. “You’re early. Is something wrong?” she asked bewildered.

“No, I just wanted to see if we can chat.”

“Uhm, okay.” She stepped aside, letting him come inside and walking to the living room. Iwaizumi sat on a different couch than _____. He wasn’t going to push his luck. He went over his question. It was easy and straightforward. However, he couldn’t help feeling like he was twenty again, walking across the room and making some small talk to her and see if he had a chance. He was nervous and unsure if it was the right thing to do.

“So, what is it?” she asked when faced with his silence.

Iwaizumi liked his upper lip as his fingers intertwined on his lip. “Why do you have a picture of us in your drawer?” She sat straight, blinking fast. Her mouth opened and closed, hesitating on emitting any sound. He had taken her aback entirely. “Eiichi told me about,” he clarified, making it impossible for her to lie or avoid the answer.

She looked around huffing. “Well, we were married, Hajime. We were together for too long. Not all of us get over things that easily,” she explained, avoiding looking directly at him.

Iwaizumi felt it like a direct shot at him. “Who said I got over it easy? I think about my life here with you and Eiichi all the time. I missed my life in here.”

“Hajime…”

“I’m being honest. Sometimes I just wish I could still be here.”

“If you want to see Eiichi more, you know you can.”

“I’m not only talking about him. I miss us. I think we could have fixed it if we had really tried.”

“We were tired of each other,” she said in a whisper, which told Iwaizumi she wasn’t rock solid on that position. It was the reason why their relationship had ended. That had been the catch phrase of their divorce.

“Maybe we could have used a break but I think divorcing was too extreme.”

“What are you trying to get to?”

“If you aren’t over us, I would actually like to try it again. We could make it work.”

“We can’t just jump right where we left things.”

“No, of course not. We’ll take it slow. I think it’s worth it.”

She held his gaze with hers. She wasn’t agreeing with him, but she wasn’t rejecting him either. He didn’t dare to blink. He wanted to seem confident with his proposal so she could give in.

“What if it doesn’t work again?” she asked.

“Then we go back to… this,” he declared rather calmly. He couldn’t ignore that option existed. Still, he wanted to believe the time they spent apart and the maturity they had gained in those two years was enough to make it right.

She nodded and stood up. “Are you staying for dinner, then?”

Iwaizumi smiled wide, standing up as well. “If there isn’t a problem, I am.”

She grinned shyly and turned away before he could see her. “Let me set another place on the table.”

“I’ll help you,” he offered, and then followed her into the kitchen Needless to say, he was thrilled. The door for a second chance had been opened to him.

#Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #aoba johsai #seijoh #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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askdacast · 5 years ago

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You don't like the recent Tenshi? What's so different about her, if you're okay with explaining...

Well this is gonna take a while explaining :P

First, a preface: I’m not saying the current portrayal of Tenshi is necessarily bad writing (a term I use with caution concerning ZUN around Touhou fans), and fundamentally, she has not really changed as a character at all. She’s still a haughty and sheltered brat from Bhava-agra who cares for little besides her own immediate amusement - that core part of her character has not really changed. It’s really in the nuances of her current writing that cause me to not really like her, as a personal preference for what those nuances say about her.

We must also remember Tenshi’s first appearance in Scarlet Weather Rhapsody was in 2008, while her second major non-cameo appearance was in Antinomy of Common Flowers, released in 2018. That’s a good 10 years that ZUN has not written this character in any major work - heck, in any capacity, since she barely appeared in the manga before Common Flowers, or in any cameos.

I’m not saying ZUN necessarily ‘forgot’ how to write Tenshi; it is entirely possible he wanted to give her a revamp in personality and finally use this character he hadn’t used in a while. As a result, a lot of the nuances in her old portrayal which I rather enjoyed, and perhaps made a lot of conjecture about, were lost in the new portrayal. Again, this is not necessarily a bad thing, but I personally miss the old portrayal.

So, why exactly do I like old Tenshi? Was there more to her than just being a stuck-up hedonistic brat?

Personally, I’d like to say yes.

Old Tenshi was written to be someone capable of backing up her arrogance. Yes she was still in certain senses a brat, but she was formidable. She’s the final boss for a reason - she goaded almost every single character into fighting her, and her infamous Last Spell section is where she quits playing games with you and outright takes you to space to wreck you. (Not that she was trying to kill you mind you, but probably punch your face in really, really hard. With lasers.)

Now yes, most of her goading the characters is outright due to haughty arrogance. Even when she was caught off-guard by Yukari trying to destroy her repairs on the Hakurei Shrine, she tried to keep her cool by telling off the most powerful Youkai in Gensokyo.

“Huhuhu, the filthy earth-crawling youkai said some delightful things…To be poor without murmuring is difficult. No wonder you earth-dwellers are so sour!”

Of course, even though Tenshi loses, she doesn’t really care, because as we remember, her original goal in SWR was simply to satiate her boredom through fighting everybody. And she got what she wanted, and was quite happy about it; even when everyone came to beat her up in response, she appreciated the ‘fun trick’.

This brings me to my next point: the writing itself. Just from the above quote, and her other quotes in SWR, Tenshi was written with a sense of finesse, and I will unironically declare this is the bulk of why I like old Tenshi.

She’s classy.

If you examine her dialogue and her quotes in the VS Mode section of SWR on Touhou Wiki, you’ll notice she makes countless references to old philosophers - Confucius’ Analects being one of them - while trying to dunk on everyone else. In fact, I used to sprinkle her dialogue with plenty of these when I briefly roleplayed as her on this very blog. Tenshi obviously is rather learned, albeit in a superficial manner - living in Bhava-agra hearing the same old analects and philosophy from more enlightened residents will do that to you. And it’s also clear from her dialogue sometimes she doesn’t really understand the true wisdom of what she’s spouting.

So here we have basically an upper-class brat who is surrounded by wisdom from young but doesn’t really get half of what that wisdom is. And if Touhou weren’t a comedy series, I could see her having her own mini-arc where she matures or her knowledge is put to the test and she reveals how much she really does or doesn’t know. Most people see Tenshi and see her as a one-note brat who needs to be put in her place, but there’s a lot of Tenshi that implies an observant but also easily bored child who doesn’t know what to do with her existence, so she masks it by boasting about her status and loads of power. I find that kind of character rather interesting and, when she’s written classily as old Tenshi did, a character who’s almost coming of age. A good person? Probably not. A character with potential? Absolutely.

But then again, I’m probably projecting a lot, given my own tastes characters in fiction and my own personal struggles. I like coming of age stories, sue me.

Meanwhile, new Tenshi is just an arrogant child with no extra caveats. Doesn’t help her redesign outright makes her look younger. While yes, I’m thankful it blunted all the ‘lol masochist Tenshi’ memes, all it’s done is flanderize Tenshi as a tiny smol brat who goes around thumping her chest shouting “COME AT ME BRO!” Now yes, that’s entertaining, and probably ZUN wanted to rewrite that as clearly as possible in her newer character. But as I said, she lost a lot of her charm and class in this new portrayal, which kinda saddens me. I’ve read her appearances in Wild and Horned Hermit, and read parts of her dialogue in Common Flowers, and despite sprinkles of haughty language here and there, this is all her character amounts to now. Much more focus is given to how her arrogance makes her ignorant of the greater implications of both her actions and the surface world. Which granted, she did have in her older portrayal, but that gave nuance that perhaps she was incredibly learned about human wisdom and just clueless about how to interact with and talk to normal people.

This is not so in her chapter in WaHH where she serves guests to her party vegetables and cheap sake and expects them to think it’s a fantastic feast. And is proud of it. This is also the same Tenshi who, in her ending in SWR, apologized for only having peaches to offer her guests at her party. Granted, you could convincingly argue in WaHH she was doing that to prank everybody, but the writing feels off.

I suppose what I’m arguing is that new Tenshi feels like a flanderization of old Tenshi. I am not necessarily saying this is a bad thing - you can enjoy new Tenshi if you want! She is a catalyst for comedic gold and smol child memes. I’m also not really blaming ZUN for this writing change, because as I said, he hasn’t written her in 10 years, and probably wanted to give her a change in writing to fit his new stories. ZUN has after all mostly been a writer who explores and expands on his setting with each new idea at his own pace, rather than fleshing out existing concepts and creating some grand narrative. And I do not blame him for that, given Touhou is just that kind of light-hearted franchise. Although granted, this is partly why in my last post, I mentioned I fell off Touhou ever since Touhou 15 - it’s in this weird gray area of trying to make more serious/intense plots and introduce more and more powerful Sages to Gensokyo (I am not a fan of Okina Matara, I’m sorry), while still trying to maintain this really whimsical atmosphere, and it doesn’t really mesh as well as before. I dunno, just me?

tl;dr I don’t hate New Tenshi, but I’m not really a fan of her when Old Tenshi was kind of a One-Hit Wonder to me, a character who was really interesting and could possibly go places if her motivations and place in the setting were really delved into more with just a couple short stories. And if you need any more proof that Old Tenshi was more than just a ‘lol arrogant brat’, I turn your attention to her amazing theme again and that. smug. face.

#touhou #touhou project #Tenshi Hinanawi #rant

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