#I very rarely write anymore BUT I have many wonderful friends that do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soraviie · 2 years ago

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jealous over a friend.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: angst, a teeny tiny bit of humour ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: Please, like, reblog and leave a comment, they inspire the writing to continue :)

━ linked to: "he's a friend of a friend" and "crushing on a friend"

NAMJOON: The smile is present but the eyes scream murder and once he puts a hand on your shoulder, you stiffen. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, well, perhaps just a little, after all the poisoned aura is streaming from him in pungent waves. Be that as it may, you stiffen more so because of the implications behind the seemingly minuscule gesture. Why do it at all? One time? Sure. But this was not a rare occurrence anymore. Still, you don't discuss it. Both of you observe this rather intricate though entirely mute ritual - he acts like your lover but isn't and neither of you ever dare to bring it up. At most, there are fifteen stifled minutes where both of you stand awkwardly in each other’s presence. Afterwards, it's discarded and you go back to being Namjoon and ______________. Whatever that means.

And frankly you're sick of it.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and loudly proclaim that no, you're not ready to leave yet. Instantly his eyes narrow and if feasible there'd be smoke coming from his nostrils.

"We arrived together."

"Does that mean we leave together as well?"

The person you've scarcely flirted with has already long disappeared into the depths of yet another one of Namjoon's cement post-modern art exhibitions despite you both not noticing. This isn't about them. It's about Namjoon and _____________ and what does that mean.

Huffing a breath of barely contained ire, he continues, trying to sound softer.

"It's safer if we stick together."

It's late afternoon as you trail down an abandoned side street. The golden sun is slowly sinking below the horizon and though the air is warm it's unperturbed by conversation. You listened to him in the end. Why do you always listen to him?

Your depressed sigh doesn't go unnoticed. Namjoon’s head quirks in your direction, you can see so from the corner of the eye.

"They weren't the right one for you," he mutters, almost like an afterthought.

"Then who is? You never like anyone I do," you snap back. He opens his mouth as though ready to say the definitive answer but somewhere in the seconds before his gaze lifts off the cobbled ground to stare at your face only to return back to the ground, the reply is lost.

"I don't know," his fists come up to curl by his side. "Just...someone else."

YOONGI: The yearly get away among dearly beloved and wonderful friends, Sae's words not yours, was not going how you'd planned it. First of all, it was once again Yoongi, the Special Presidential Envoy Min Yoongi, who volunteered to drive your directionally insane ass to the storybook cabin deep in Gangwon province. As if sensing that the last two times meeting each other face to face was not enough of an embarrassing ordeal, he just had to be so chivalrous and offer to pick you up. And sure the last time wasn't...that bad but he was after all Min Yoongi. No matter how many times he'd inexplicably texted you over the course of this bizarre year, it didn't change the fundamental fact - he was Min Yoongi and you were you.

Maybe he'd realised that as well because as it stood he appeared on the very brink of hurling. Lips turned downward and gaze set numbly on the floor, he sits in the far edge of the patio and looks positively disgusted. The change of moods is so jarring, you can't hear a word what Drew is saying. You like Drew, perhaps once upon a time a bit too much, but currently you find yourself wishing they'd just shut it.

"He looks sick," they point out quietly, briefly making eyes at Yoongi. "Does he have a stomach flu?"

"I don't know," you honestly shrug. "We were talking some thirty minutes ago and everything was fine."

"Maybe you should go ask him?"

Your eyes widen and much like Edvard Munch painting you gape at Drew, jaw growing slack.

"Me?" you parrot, scandalised. "Why me?!"

"Because he talks to you the most?" Drew answers, equally befuddled.

You turn towards Yoongi, accidentally clutching the glass so tightly it makes an audible squeak and feeling the weight of your stare, he meets it head on. Then he swivels away.

"He probably hates me," you lament. "I get it. I went on a long ramble about hues of green colour on the way over here. Hatred is understandable."

"Hmm, does he?" Drew hums cryptically. "I rather think it's me he dislikes."

"You?" you query with a furrowed brow. "What have you done?"

"I'm talking to you, am I not?"

"I don't get it," you mutter after a moment of consideration.

Once Drew leaves for the night, to your surprise, Yoongi stops by and offers to drive you back, even to the airport once the vacation is over. And while technically you were supposed to hitch with Sae and the rest, your mouth is faster than the brain and you blur a breathy agreement.

Curiously, he doesn't appear disgusted in the slightest, in fact, Yoongi gives you a diffident smile, softly ghosting his fingers across your palm to tug you onto one of the many plush seats laying around on the patio. You're tired, says he, he'd noticed.

JIN: "What...was that?" you question curiously at Jin's retreating back. He blinks at you, feigning utter innocence but the displeased scrunch of his nose tells you a very different story. One might even say a polar opposite.

"What was what?" he mimics your confusion with frustrating level of acted ignorance. "Did you think anything weird was going on? 'Cause I didn't. All is cool."

Jin who previously had to get bubbled off a bottle of champagne to even say sorry to you had just guided you out of the room, hand around waist and all, after bidding a polite yet cutting to a faceless stranger: "thank you for the flattery, they're however taken. Try again never".

Yes, safe to say, it was a bit weird.

The longer the weight of your undivided stare settles upon his shoulders, the more he crumbles.

"He was making you uncomfortable, wasn't he?" he whines, affronted if the pout was any indication.

"Well, yeah, but I doubt you could see it across the mile long hallway," you smile at him, curiosity eating you whole. The action was...uncharacteristic for Jin. Though lately he'd been acting quite weird. Like he was holding some big and grave secret that he could hardly contain within himself.

"Well, I did," he scorns, kissing his teeth in annoyance. "Now buy me a drink."

"Buy you a drink?" you echo disbelievingly. "It's my birthday!"

"And we're celebrating the collective good," Jin throws you a wayward glare over his broad shoulder. "You and me. We need nothing more."

You're rather inclined to agree though you don't voice it out loud. Jin had this weird habit of going beetroot read whenever you said something too sweet.

HOSEOK: "You're hanging out with Hoseok? You?" the level of surprise in Nall's voice is almost insulting so you react to it as such. Giving her your driest glare, you flick a strand of hair away from the eyes.

"Yes, me. I don't see what you're fussing so much about."

"Oh come on!" she protests. "I had to swear in blood-"

"It was cranberry jam."

"-that I won't even bring him up in conversation and now you're friends?!"

"Yeah well," you retort off-handedly over the shoulder. "He accidentally met me on the street and we ate together and now we're...friendly. He's cool," the last part you keep largely to yourself. "Do you like this shirt?"

"The shirt is sick!" Was the first thing out of Hoseok's mouth, once you spot the tuft of his dyed hair from a distance. You bid a quiet thank you, forcing a stiff smile upon your lips. Okay, so perhaps you weren't as easy going with him as you projected to Naal but he really was cool. In the relatively span of time you actually talked to him in a friendly manner, you saw the invisible albeit sturdy wall between both of you thinning and although Hoseok noticed it as well he never pushed you to break it. You went at your own pace and he was glad to tag by.

The conversations flows easy, it's not particularly deep but it's fine for now. He relies on the advice he feels comfortable asking for and you divulge little worries that have piled along the way. It's all good for now.

"Any special plans for the weekend?" The festival is coming up," he remarks in between bites of crispy glazed chicken. It's good, he had shared a piece.

"Oh, I'm going on a date."

The movement of Hoseok's hand stops and you lift your head to see what caused the change.

"Really?" he inquires politely, somewhat disinterested. "With whom?"

"Don't know yet," you shrug. "Nall set me up with one of her dancing partners. What about the festival? You're going to that one."

Hoseok gifts a smile that feels a bit too stiff for your liking but you shrug it off. Not like you knew him all that well.

"No," he says suspiciously light. "Reconsidered."

JIMIN: "What am I only supposed to talk to you?!"

"Yes! No one else! Just me!"

You draw a shuddering sigh of tightly congealed wrath, glaring Jimin down with all the world's disdain.

"Fuck you."

Oh, how you wished that it would be the triumphant march of victory that you'd walk home with but, alas, it's more of a sad, tired shuffle where the only thing you see is the soulless city concrete and the only thing you feel is the ever surmounting mound of self-disgust.

Jimin's bright, you're dim, he's warm, you're cold. Different people worked out only in theory, in reality they walked their respective opposite ways. Had they not, would magnets not push each other away?

You don't think you're making sense anymore so you shake your head and numbly walk through the quiet doors of your home. With Jimin having spent all his free time here, seeing the dark shroud the hallway is almost disconcerting though once it was an all too familiar of a sight.

To recall that once upon a time he couldn't even properly glimpse at you. That he'd been nothing more than the yet antoher stranger Malia wanted to give the world to. The tone with which he'd spoken with you then had been reserved and polite. Where had that gone to? And why didn't you stop loving him no matter how hard you wanted to? Getting over Jimin in the unspoken suffocating empty space of your imagination was hard enough, why did he have to be so-!

A knock on the door.

Who else.

"You have a key," you open the door and grumble without a fail but he shrugs, hands deep in pockets and that guilty, though tad sharp expression mars his face.

"I wanted you to let me in."

"Are you going to say sorry?"

"No," his eyes darken, plush lips speaking words that drip down like honey but burn all the same. "I'm not sharing you with some sleazy asshole."

The thing about Jimin as you had learned was that there were great many parts of him, entangled and overlapping each other not unlike a twisted knot of wires. He could simultaneously be soft and fierce about the same thing like the way he is now - gazing at you determined from the other side of the open door.

"You're always so jealous," you roll your eyes, pretending that there isn't a part of you that giggles like a schoolchild over his hunger for your attention.

"Yes, I am," spitefully, he agrees, lifting one eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it?"

You stand mutely, slowly realizing that there couldn't be a march of victory to begin with as you never could have won. Like a spider made of well-meaning intentions and genuine care, he twists you around his ringed fingers. And you're so screwed.

"We're still friends, right?" he asks, prideful at first glance but you know how vulnerable his heart is underneath the glimmering, hardened armor of his that's neither a mask or a facade. His strength is not an illusion but a part of him. A part of him you love, though you'd rather die on the spot than let your mind wander on scenarios of possibilities.

At last, you give in, tired but sated in a way. You're still friends and he's here, you don't need anything else.

"Of course, we are," you sigh, stepping out the way and happily, Jimin slides in the slippers he'd lugged all the way from his house. "Though you infuriate me like fucking no one else."

You turn to glide into the kitchen, quickly finding that the greedy, beloved spider of yours has wrapped his hands around you, nosing pacifyingly at the back of your neck.

TAEHYUNG: "Just call him."

The sound of Jae's exasperated tone pulls you away from the dutiful task of staring numbly at the phone.

"Didn't you plead the fifth?" you snide. But this is Jae and he cannot be so easily offended.

"I did, I did," sagely, he nods along. "Being caught up in this emotionally constipated friends to lovers shtick between my two besties is bad for the skin."

"We're not-" heatedly, you begin but it is quickly interrupted by a stern:

"Don't fool yourself."

You leave the room, phone still in hand.

Taehyung's confession hadn't been at all surprising - you were not stupid, however it did not make it any easier to accept. He was after all Kim Taehyung and the evolution of your relationship with him from that awkward first car ride was boggling enough, to transform into lovers was just...too much.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I'm an adult," he glared at you across the candle lit table. "Don't rob me of my agency. I know what I feel."

You wet your lips, struggling and failing to come up with something both pointed and profound.

"Listen," he began anew, softer, maybe even tired in a way. "I'm not forcing you to love me back. I'm not out here demanding your affection."

You lift an eyebrow at him and instantly he concedes.

"Well, maybe a little but you know what I mean," he admitted with the very corners of the lips curling into a dry smile. "I'm not going to dictate how you should feel but in return I ask that you don't either. I promise I won't bother your peace of mind, just let me love you and if you ever decide to reciprocate, I'll be here waiting."

Before the full weight of his confession had the time to make you utterly breathless, grimly, almost like an afterthought, he added:

"Though I won't pretend to be happy when you're with someone else. I'm sorry I just can't."

You have to give him that, he'd been up front about it hence why you can't really blame him. The unexpected re-emergence of your ex looking for a reconciliation had left Taehyung mute and sullen as he quickly hopped on a plane and left for overseas. Being a stubborn person yourself you dug your heels in, proclaiming that you won't entertain his tantrums but..

But you missed him.

When at last you broke down and called well into the night, he picked up immediately as though waiting all this time. You ignored the way your heart trembled at the thought of it.

Instead of a greeting there's a forlorn "I missed you" spoken in an absolute sync. You chuckle mirthlessly and so does he yet silence follows suit.

"You left," you accuse meekly. Vulnerable.

"I did," Taehyung hums, sounding tired of all things. "I couldn't stand seeing you get together with them again. I wish...I could be better for you."

"You're plenty of good," heatedly, you argue.

"Am I?" he echoes thoughtfully and you find yourself wishing you could gage what his expression was like. "I'm jealous and petty, and childish. You know that."

"So? No one's faultless."

I'm certainly not, you think to yourself. Had you been, you'd probably tell him that lately you've been liking him some different way than what you think friends should be. It's something, you don't know what it is.

"Are you going to get back together?" he asks tersely and, despite him not being able to see it, you shake your head.

"No," because of you.

And despite you not being able to see it, somewhere in the gilded hotel room that's as luxurious as it is lonely, Taehyung closes his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear, pining, yearning, wanting so much he wants to cry. Because of you. But he'll wait. Is it what he should do? Perhaps not but no one is after all faultless.

JUNGKOOK: "No."

"But-!"

"As your best friend-"

"You're not."

He casts a heavy glare over the rim of the glass.

"As your best friend," he reiterates strongly so there's no misinterpretation from your end. "You should just dump them."

"I cannot just do it over a text!"

"Sure, you can," Jungkook shrugs carelessly. "Undoubtedly it's an asshole move but the bitch deserves it."

"Jungkook!"

"What?!" he whines with the whole of his body, a familiar grimace of frown marring his features. Ever since you got together with your partner, he was nothing short of a storm cloud, glaring and raining on all the parade's happening around. "They stood you up - how many times? How many times you fought and they ignored you? How many times they threw a fuss about us going somewhere together?!" he scoffs harshly. "How possessive."

"Ever so self-aware, Koo," you roll your eyes, prompting him to examine you with earnest confusion.

"What do you mean? I happen to be extremely self-aware!"

"And jealous and possessive not to mention overly protect-"

"This is not shit on me day," he flicks your forehead, interrupting the long laundry list you've had simmering on the backburner for months now. The most annoying thing about Jungkook, and you don't tell him this, was that he managed to make those qualities a point of problem you closed your eyes upon.

"Well, of course, that's on Wednesday," rubbing the sore spot, you gruff, watching him down a sizeable chicken drumstick with no problem whatsoever. The already dour expression grows worse, forehead creasing into rows upon rows of deeply etched wrinkles. You smile to yourself. You knew he would like this place.

"Why did you never like them?" you question curiously after a moment of relative peace in which you'd been prodding disinterestedly at the chocolate mousse. "You're both quite alike actually."

"Yeah, but I actually lo-" he stops in midsentence, eyes stretching wide and for the lack of better term he does look like a deer caught in headlights - staring, absolutely frightened in front of him and not daring to move.

"Anyway, break up with them," he suddenly continues coolly as though nothing ever happened. "Write it in the sky if needed, I'll sponsor the event."

"You're so heinous," you mutter though he is right and the break up text clanging around your skull like a broken teleprompter has been nagging you enough. You'll break up. You want to do so.

"I don't share," he chews on the chicken, frowning full force. "What's mine is mine."

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phantomtwitch · 4 months ago

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Masterpost

PhantomTwitch | 30-something | she/her

Hi! Welcome to my blog! It's only taken me over a decade to finally do this. I love cartoons and writing and all kinds of other things, and I have the kind of lame sense of humor that makes three year olds laugh hysterically and anyone older than ten roll their eyes most of the time.

This place is a disorganized disaster (kind of like my brain), with this post probably the closest thing to any sense of order I've tried to impose on it. Below are links to my various writings, as Tumblr's search bar sucks and most of you are probably members of the phandom that stumbled across one of my works somewhere and came looking for more.

(Though whether that's the case or not, you're welcome either way!)

I write a lot and genuinely love it. The only part of writing I actually hate is coming up with titles and summaries. Sometimes I get a decent flash of inspiration for a title, other times? Ehhhhh.

I'm happy to answer any asks and will, like many, happily ramble on endlessly about my fics.

I rarely post WIPs, so unless noted, all of the works below are completed as of this time and on AO3.

Danny Phantom Fanfics

Echoes

There was something wrong with Danny Fenton.

Nearly eighteen months after a lab accident left him hospitalized, his friends and family assumed he was still recovering from the side effects of his near-death experience. But after witnessing Danny do something ghostly, they begin to suspect something much more sinister is afoot and set out to save their friend from the clutches of the evil ghost possessing him.

As The Ice Begins to Crack

Little by little, as the public’s perception of him changed, Danny’s ghost form continued to reflect it. He looked more human every day, more confident, and more like the superheroes from the comics they used to read on the floor of Danny’s room as kids. As the months passed there was a moment when Tucker began to forget, to wonder if what he saw when Danny first stepped out of the portal that day was nothing more than a nightmare.

Inspired by this post on tumblr from paenling

Doubt Comes In

For InvisoBang 2023.

When Danny Fenton returns on the first day of spring after being kidnapped by the Fright Knight, something is off. His teeth are too sharp, his skin is too pale, and when he’s angry, the lights flicker as a harsh chill and the scent of ozone permeates the air as if heralding an approaching storm. There are moments when he is impossibly still, more statue than flesh, more ghost than human, and little by little everyone wonders if the child sitting in their midst is truly still Danny at all.

Scars He Hides

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

The portal accident left Danny with scars that glow whether he's Fenton or Phantom. He's done his best to hide them, but it's only a matter of time before someone finds out his secret.

Beyond the Grave

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

At the start of his freshman year, Danny Fenton disappeared. But much as Dash didn’t care and preferred to focus on football, it’s hard to avoid thinking about it after seeing Fenton dig himself out from an unmarked grave in the woods.

What We Have Been is What We Are

Based on this tumblr prompt from MadameTamma here

Maddie has a near death experience when an invention blows up on her in the lab. Her spirit is suddenly thrust from her body, and Clockwork appears to guide her down the Path, presenting her with a chance to learn from her past as her life flashes before her eyes. Little by little there are signs that she's missed something, that there's something off with Danny, and she finds herself risking her very existence to learn the truth.

So You Have Wished It

Something is wrong. Something has changed.

The signs start off so small, so easy to dismiss, but little by little it begins to spiral until Sam can't ignore it anymore and she's forced to face reality once again.

(This is a one-shot from part of a bigger AU I am working on currently)

My Body Is a Cage

For Angst Fest 2023

His friends aren't sure how much longer they can keep this a secret. Every time a ghost appears, Danny dies again. And every time Danny dies, they bring him back.

It doesn't help that no matter how much they try to explain to Danny what's happening, the truth never sticks.

Unnamed Electric Core OneShot

Currently on Tumblr only, now a bigger WIP, but this can still be read on its own. Another No One Knows AU with the ghosts being creepier than in canon.

Unnamed WIP

Currently on Tumblr only, this was inspired by yet another MadameTamma prompt where Danny does not remember being human. Body Horror fic and currently a WIP.

#masterpost #my writing

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unhappytimeleaper · 1 year ago

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I don’t know how to feel about this. I just couldn’t stop thinking about watching the rain and reflecting on Neuvillette. Also, who knows what might change as he is officially released. This is just an idea that was eating my soul.

Also, requests are open. I don’t really need to close them, but I am still slow with writing since I work full-time. I am hoping to branch off a little more from just Enstars requests, and ,I’ve taken a lot more of an active interest in writing for Jojo specifically, but anything works.

Neuvillette; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings: very vague for the most part but talk of isolation, mental and physical abuse, and manipulation. It’s still Yandere.

Word Count: 2,300+

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

The rain had been pouring for some time now, longer than usual. What could have set him off for so long was still unknown. The drumming of the rain against the window, your head pressed more into it and away from the armrest of the chair, almost as if hoping by sheer luck you’d phase through the glass and be set free. The sound of the rain, once so peaceful, has grown to become nauseating. Ringing in the depths of your ears and into your soul, plaguing as a reminder of the life you now had. When there is nothing to shut it out, it only digs in more into the predicament you’ve been chained to. No more are the cozy aspects of the rain curled up in a family home with food, cooking, and music as the rain danced across the roof or the time with friends running through the storm in attempts to find shelter, laughs filling the air—just you and the room.

Well, the room could be your fault. You weren’t physically chained there— not anymore, but the walls of the home, as big as they were, only served to mock you. Too big of a cage, a labyrinth that could only make the looming fear of loneliness bury itself between your ribs and bloom across your heart. The shadows of people known not to interact with you but their whispers tickling in your ears. Sounds of them adding about their personal lives and families, trips, gossip across Fontaine… all while your days had become mostly kept in silence. No, you’d rather stay in here… just one room that you could build into an escape paradise from the weighing ache the rest brought you—filled with books, a window [that you had spent countless hours fighting with], plush chairs, and per your request some plants. You managed to get your argument across to him on allowing for such necessities; although he liked to remind you what he had given, he could just as much take away. Though you knew his bleeding heart for you, that under it all, he craved the love he one day believed you’d give him. Punishments were honest; you knew that much had been burned into your brain, but it was rare that little things would be a trigger for him to take account less you become too much of a “brat.” Ugh, how easy it was to scoff at that term— treating you like a child having a tantrum compared to the reality of a human stuck in the grasp of the inhuman judge himself.

Sometimes, you wondered what was better; he often was gone. Working, fulfilling a role you had to bite your tongue to denounce him from. If someone couldn’t understand humans, couldn’t understand what drove them to petty crimes and the struggles so many befall, why should he be allowed to make the calls? Judge-free, unbiased… no, that isn’t the way to handle it; you knew the pain of it all weighed down on him, which was something enough [better than doing so without remorse] but didn’t alter the unfair nature of the law. Not when, through it all, you ended up here, a product for his love rather than a participant. But him being gone didn’t change the aching; with the limited interactions, it was only through him the loneliness had a moment to dull. Even if you hated to admit it, you were only human— only able to crave someone to share time with to break the deafening silence of the home. Of the rain. It scared you. To know if he was around more, around enough that your fight to be free would extinguished. You’d lose yourself, complacent in a life you never asked for. If he was home more, would you lose yourself faster, lose the motivation to escape, and become just another wheel in the cog of fate? Or would you have more time to whittle down his defenses and create more openings for means of escape? The thought could only make your heart beat faster, drumming along to the rain, though was it out of fear or excitement? It was hard to tell.

plitter-platter, plitter-platter, plitter-platter—

Breathe fogged up a patch of the window, the cooling glass chilling the chunk of the forehead that was placed against it. The feeling was uncomfortable, both in angle and blooming chills from the material, but not enough to want to move. The rain was still falling, though slowly dying down. He’d be home soon, creeping into the room looking for you just like every night. Days spent on loop, blending more and more into each other. He didn’t mind crying in front of you, often the tears adorning your shoulder or back as he held you close, but he seemed to try to keep the outside world— well outside. He knew it upset you, that it’d turn into some argument, and he’d need to find a reason to punish you for breaking the rules. You often had to bite your tongue, wanting to tell him this is why inhuman creatures shouldn’t have human partners. The gap in communication, feelings and needs was too much. It was killing both of you. You could feel it as he wept, the soft rain showers of him just not understanding, not being able to communicate effectively the motions of his heart.

Two drops lined up just centimeters from your face. The mark of a race, the starting line. It was a time that once was so innocent when you were a kid choosing a random drop and narrating it in your head as you waited for the storm to pass so you could go out and play. ‘Woe is me’ could only be how you thought of it now. Him and you set up for the race— the starting line and… go.

Rolling down the frame and collecting other droplets, their trails jumping and altering in their paths as gravity dragged them down. One pulled into the lead, always him. He was always one step ahead, one smarter and more intuned. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar, he always found your new escape attempt and could see through your flowery words of deception. In that sense, you had to admit his role fits him well, but only left the bitter remains of the stems in your mouth when he locked you back up with a ‘you’ll be let out when you learn not to lie.’ It must be something tied to him on a fundamental level, a sense. Or perhaps it was just age, something you could never achieve. You couldn’t count how many times you watched the droplets race, hoping that maybe just once you could be one step ahead, one…

No. Even if you did, where would you go? The melusine were everywhere, and getting out within reach of the court would be a life sentence of punishment. Perhaps solace somewhere in the underground community, but someone likely would sell you out to better favor their outcome. You could break for the border; it’d be brutal and dangerous, a bounty on your head faster than you could imagine. Would other regions even be safe from a runaway? Maybe some other small communities… would become looking for you? Would you have to always stay alert for the rest of your life? Would you have to live alone, fending only for yourself? You’d lose yourself just as much in a life like that, but maybe it was the price of freedom. The price of not playing a role, soul withering away trying to maintain the rules and ideals of something you could never understand. When did your thought become so sorrowful, the fight you once had? A flame extinguished by the rain left only as sparks fumbling to stay lit. Look away, it wasn’t over yet. There had to be good out there, people who could understand, you’d take you in. Life would never be easy again, but it wasn’t over. Not yet.

Lifting your head from the window was always weirdly comforting, the movement restored to your neck and it stretching back into place. The coolness of the glass no longer flushed against your skin, allowing the heat of the room to melt away the temperature. Rest your mind, reset your body. He never minded the long game, maybe as time for him felt infinite. But rushing would only cause holes in a plan you couldn’t keep affording to lose. The storm would pass, and you’d find a way to relight that flame. You couldn’t let him win, and you couldn’t let this system win.

plat, plat, plat…

“My love,” he spoke. He— Neuvillette, was home. The rain had stopped, only some residue drops highlighting the storm moments before. He stood in the doorway, hand holding the frame as his voice reverberated across the silent room. He always waited for you to notice him before entering. Permission didn’t matter, but in a sense, it tended to bring some comfort to know where the dragon lurked. It only took a brief flash of eye contact for him to take it as clearance into entering the room, legs quickly carrying him to your seat.

Neuvillette stood in front of you, pristine and put together; his eyes sharply focused on you, and his neutral expression made him seem more intimating than you knew he was. You had been here long enough as well to see the faint but dried crust of where his tears had pooled down his cheeks from moments just before. It didn’t change the power radiating off him, seeping into the room and over you like a blanket to remind you he was in charge here. Curiosity burned in your stomach, leaping up your throat, wanting you to ask what could have caused him to cry so much.

Gossip regarding the law wasn’t to be taken seriously, but the lack of outside world stimulation always makes the prospects more enticing. It burned in your mind to know what was happening outside of your cage, in the world below. Though asking would only come back to haunt you, the fights that led to punishments burned into your mind and skin even if the physical sides had healed. Not to mention the way he would take it if the words even managed not to set off a disagreement, that you cared. Neuvillette may be blind to human emotions and feelings, but he did have his own set— and that presented as caring for him on the most basic level of touch or tone only worked against you. Solidifying your partnership, your love in his mind.

The silence was always more deafening when he stood before you; that even a breath would break the moment. His hand was delicate, though, floating to your head before wistfully tracing your hair and to your chin. It tickled, enough you wanted to flinch but knew better as he tilted your head to look into his eyes more. Pulling his hand from your face, he held it with his palm up. You knew what he was asking. Take his hand, but don’t look away. Unlike his graceful movements, you didn’t have as much time before his eyes would narrow, a sign of rejection in his eyes— he couldn’t take it. Unlike for humans, you could only assume there was something dormant, something innate that drove the ideas of jealousy, rejection, and the need to isolate on a biological level rather than mental. People could do just the same; you knew this for a fact, but the way he carried it out felt more visceral. Not doing so wasn’t an option; it freed him from his own judgment because nothing could defy the fact of biology.

Your hand moved from instinct; at least, at this point, it was strange to think of how things now were ingrained in you. The movements of hands, replying to questions, from when it was time to sleep and wake up to where you walked through the day. That it just instantly would click, a passive thought or action. Not trained into you but a reflection of your life, how the passing days and routines with him had become a staple in your life. You had changed since then, proof that whatever was to come was inevitable—a mark of fate.

Pulled to your feet, Neuvillette wrapped his arm around your torso, still ghostly with his touches. His face now resting on your hair as he breathed– in and out. The tension in his body released just slightly, but as if you were the answer to what had been weighing down on him. “My love,” he repeated, lips softly tickling the top of your head, “come on. Let’s have dinner.”

The routine of your long day: Neuvillette returns from work to fetch you from your room to a meal before settling into bed together. He’d try to make a convo, and sometimes you’d reply. Other times, he’d focus on reading something, and you’d do the same or just turn your back, hoping he’d get the hint. There was no use in fighting it; the rules layered in stone.

“Okay.”

#genshin.leaps #yandere #yandere writing #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: isolation #genshin impact

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smalltownduck · 19 days ago

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it's borderline criminal (/j) that, even with how popular manifestation theory is and will's powers being suspected for years to be creation-related, no one (that i could find) seems to have written a Pygmalion (the og myth) au for byler yet.

to (hopefully) avoid some of the unfortunate implications (re: ruby sparks my beloved) of a writer making his character come to life i mean, in order to make will the guy he is now, he had to go through so much pain and trauma, or else he wouldn't be will, not even pre-canon will in said (non-UD) au, i think i'd rather go for the 'will created the initial concept for mike but as a dnd character' route.

will, lucas and dustin (he moved in kindergarden) still became friends and got into dnd, but they're not as close as the og party; will keeps his terrible home life from them to avoid more shame or their parents not letting them hang out anymore.

one day, while brainstorming to create his own dnd character, will doodled a figure in armor: someone who could be loyal, kind and adventurous, that could actually lead a party and make their campaigns cooler than any of them could imagine. Someone they could rely on. Someone who'd inspire them. Someone who would protect them. Someone that would care enough to, against any kind of danger.

that evening, after too many striked scribbles and ripped sketchbook pages, will drew his first sketch of His Paladin -no name felt right.

he never told anyone about him, not even his mom or jonathan, who'd otherwise get to see all his drawings. he never considered playing as the character either, even though he made several character alignment charts for him (if you ever had an oc, you know how it goes) and had way more sketches of him than of will the wise. that just wouldn't feel right: his paladin wasn't him or someone he wanted to (or could ever) become. his paladin was someone separate from will, with his helmet never off, tall and always vigilant, the brightest smile even in the face of failure.

again, if you ever had an oc and you used fiction as escapism, you might imagine how close will felt to his creation, especially bc only will ever knew of his existence. his paladin was there, by his side, on bad days, on loud nights; whenever will feel down, he'd picture him joining the last campaign the party borrowed from a random booklet, cracking incredibly lame jokes and reminding everyone of what they were fighting for. it was a comforting thought to turn to. a friend far away who never failed to make him smile.

no one, not even his dad, could take him away from him. if will sometimes stared too long, with a dopey smile, at his latest drawing, it was only his business. those new budding feelings, despite everything, felt safe. his paladin wasn't real, so he was not doing anything shameful nor bad by feeling so attached to him.

cue fourth grade, his dad leaving for good, castle byers, and a new boy joining his class. a chatty, very creative boy who played dnd as well. a boy who acted too familiar and looked like someone will rarely dared to visualize without a helmet on for the sake of his own sanity.

(this version of mike would be a regular human with free will in case you were wondering.)

this concept would be more about will freaking out at the idea that he created mike, realizing that's impossible [?* and trying to reconciliate what he knows about his idealized Paladin with the real mike -a boy with as many flaws as wonderful qualities.

will constantly having to remind himself they're not the same only for mike to proudly show the party his dnd character sheet along with his notes for the big epic campaign he always wanted to write -cue will excusing himself to hide both his blush and panic.

just will constantly struggling to differentiate between 'projection' and reality. trying to get rid of his feelings towards his character so he could treat the real mike fairly, get to know him, stop himself from staring too long whenever mike showed any heroic traits, and not scare him off nor get him in trouble bc of his stupid feelings.

will could now befriend an amazing boy for real and that's all that should matter. all that would ever matter.

if it takes will years to feel comfortable drawing 'sir mike', that's between him and an unassuming stash of paper in his closet he cannot bring himself to throw away (he's still scared of the possibility of making mike dissapear)

#byler #byler fanfic #<- not really but still #okay its not full pygmalion more like law of attraction or something #idk i was listening to old songs and got the line “if you weren't real i'd make you up” stuck in my head #i know i said this would be a no UD/supernatural elements au but ig a more talented mind could still make it work with canon elements :D #it'd work too in a “they meet until highschool in hellfire club” timeline. or a college club. or a 'friend of a friend' scenario as adults #my vision is a little too goofy and saccharine on purpose lol #if you like the concept it's free for grabs just lemme know /gen #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #miwi

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letstrythisout4 · 4 months ago

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um hi again. ok I really, really really loved your Blaise head canon. the girl dad one.

If you couldn't tell already, I freaking love Blaise, so I was wondering if you were still taking requests and if you are would you consider doing like a head canon thingy or like something about Blaise in different parts of his daughter's life like

When she's born

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When she's a toddler

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When she's in her tween age

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When she's in her teenage age (13-17)

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When she's old enough to move out and she's like a pre adult (18-20)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

etc.

you can add and remove anything if you'd like, plz dont feel pressured if you want to. and plz dont feel pressured to do it if you dont want to, I just really love your writing and you're one of my fav writers here sooo.

Anyways love you

bye

♡ ♥💕❤

authors note: i am so flatttered, here you go babes, love you too, if anyone has anymore requests or ideas lemme know

When she’s born:

I imagine Blaise to be one of those dads who like won’t do anything to risk missing their baby's birth

Like Draco and Theo invite him out for a drink and hes like “but what if something happens while i'm out” “mate she's not due for a month” “yeah but what if”

The moment she is born he has her in his arms, he’s very reluctant to let go when the healers ask for her back so that they can check to make sure nothings wrong but he relents (he hovers over the healers as they perform their diagnostic spells)

He will not let her out of his sight- at all

The only babysitters he allows is his mother, narcissa and lucius

Draco and theo (being good friends) offer to babysit as well but Blaise refuses

Not because Blaise doesn't trust them, but what if something happens and they don't know how to handle it because they are not parents themselves.

No no if blaise can’t be there himself to watch his baby (this rarely ever happens) his mother, narcissa and lucius can take care of her

Though he does not-so-subtle train draco and theo; his friends understand his concern but how are they supposed to be the cool uncles if they never take care of her

Theo is the baby’s godfather and he takes his job so fucking seriously

Like theo reads almost as many books as blaise on how to be a parent

I imagine blaise to be the one to “take one for the team” and have the first baby from the friend group

They friend group being blaise, draco, theo, daphne and pansy

Takes a village to raise a child, right?

Well those four are his village

I also imagine blaise was rather young when his daughter was born like early twenties young

Meanwhile his friends start having kids in their thirties maybe late twenties but definitely not as young as blaise did

Painted and built his baby’s nursery all by hand with his village “i could have finished this hours ago with a flick of my wand” “shut up and keep painting, pans”

The first few months with the baby is just everyone basically living in Zabini manor

While blaise won't leave them alone with his baby, his friends are more than welcome to play and feed and spoil her (within his eyesight)

When shes a toddler:

Reads to her every night

“Daddy can i have this plush” *holds up a plush bigger than her* “of course baby”

By the time she is four her babysitters have expanded to include her uncles and aunties

Blaise only allows this expansion because now she is verbal enough to report back what happened while he was gone

Makes his mother sit down and teach him how to braid his daughters hair

His daughter is one of those little black girls that have beads in their hair, she likes the noise they make when she walks

Does hours and hours of research into finding a safe, educational muggle pre-k for her to attend

Absolutely breaks his heart to drop her off for her first day, her book bag is as big and she insisted on adding her favorite bow to her ponytail, he watched as she sat with the other kids paying no attention to the reassurances the teacher was giving

He was the first person at pick up and stood anxiously outside the classroom, eager to have his baby back, it was the first time he ever left her alone with someone outside of his family

The door opened and his daughter rushed into his arms, rambling about the friends she made and the picture she drew of him and her

When she was very young blaise would say, “its okay, accidents happen” to which she now repeats whenever someone makes a mistake

Theo despite his growing emotional maturity refuse to admit that he cried the first time she said it to him

He likes to take her to watch muggle films and buying her dolls of the characters (she has the entire disney line up)

He will play pretend with her and is a professional pirate, ghost, king, prince, wizard (ironically) and dragon

Every year she decides how she wishes to spend her birthday but along with whatever she picks the entire village will come to have dinner at the zabini manor and shower her in gifts

Tween

Blaise enrolls her in muggle primary school so that she has some social skills pre-hogwarts but has also been having her tutored by the best tutors possible since she could talk in various forms of magic

Blaise limits her involvement in pureblood balls and parties as much as possible; she is involved enough that everyone has seen her and knows that the Zabini family has an heir, but not enough that she can be spotted in a crowd

Has to have the tough conversation of the expectations and potential dangers that are going to be placed on her as a POC, girl, heiress to a wizarding family, descendant of a known slytherin family etc;

Has to explain what the wizarding wars were like from their families perspective and how that compares to non-Slytherins perspective

(honestly half the reason why he sent her to muggle school was so that she could build up some tough skin before going to hogwarts)

Blaise knew that in the upcoming years he wasn't going to be spending nearly as much time with her as he was used to and decided to take full advantage of the time he did have

The two sat down when she was ten and begun to list out places the wished to visit across the globe, once they were done Blaise rolled up the parchment and got to work planning out the twos next several vacations

The summer before her first year was spent traveling all across India learning about the country's extensive history, several different languages, meals, etiquette, magical practices etc.

The two came back the week before hogwarts and Blaise had to stop himself from looking miserable as September 1st arrived and he and his family stood on platform 9 ¾ saying their goodbyes

Blaise did in fact cry silently as he hugged and smiled at his daughter before helping her onto the train

Tween while in hogwarts:

Constantly sends her gift baskets

The two have magically bound journals where the write to each other at least once a week

Goes insane decorating the manor for yule (even more so than usual)

Is determined to be the cool dad, and allows her to invite her friends over for the holidays

Teenager

Will sit in his daughters room for hours listening to her rant about whatever she wants because he refuses to be a father who doesn't know his child and no amount of time at hogwarts is going to change that

His house is the hangout spot

Partially because he likes to be the cool dad that her friends know they can rely on; partially because he doesn’t trust adults to look out for his daughter

He knows that teenagers will get up to shenanigans and he's willing to let her go out and adventure in both the muggle and magical world; he trusts her to be responsible

In the summer before her fifth year, she came up to him confidently asking if she could go to a party at her friends house

He agreed, giving her a curfew of 10:30pm

And then invited his own friends over the evening of the party to ensure that he didn’t lose his mind waiting for her

He was a teenager, he remembers the parties that he and his friends threw, he knows what goes on in the Slytherin common room, he even knows that this isn't the first party she's been to (it was basically tradition to throw massive “secret” parties every time slytherin won…literally anything)

He still worries

He's a dad, it's his job

And he tells his daughter as much when she floos home at 10:30pm exactly (she comfortable with her dad but shes not stupid, shes not breaking curfew) to find her dad, and uncles lounging around in the living room; clearly waiting for her

His daughters teenage years can essentially be understood as him slowly letting her go, because he always knew she’d grow up and that he’d have to let but damn was it hard

Young adult

His daughter had made the decision to continue studying herbology and potions after hogwarts, she had found a mentor in Ghana who was a well known healer who was willing to take her in

Blaise spent the summer of his daughters sixth and seventh year in Ghana, familiarizing themselves with the nation and the healers that she was going to be working with

The entire village came together to help her move and Blaise was not the only one to cry this time

As she gets older they continue to spend the holidays together but instead of traveling the world she urges her father to stay in the manor and solves puzzles and play exploding snap like when she was young

They still write each other frequently and visit each other at least four times a year but now when he looks at her, a brilliant adult with a plan for what lies ahead, he feels comfortable enough to walk away for the first time ever

#blaise zabini #draco malfoy #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #pansy parkinson #theodore nott

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anime-fan-05 · 3 months ago

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*Spawns * Im back and I also would like to request something new! I wanted to ask if you could do the anime NANA? With all the NANA boys who are with a very famous singer/dancer, who in public is chill and kinda flirty for her persona as a famous singer and dancer but she is actually shy and sweet person. Thank you very much!

she does belly dance

Her music is like Gwen Stefani, lady Gaga and Odetari

Nana ~With a very famous singer and dancer, chill and kinda flirty in public but actually shy and sweet reader~

Manga/anime: Nana

Warnings: nothing

I've to admit I knew practically nothing about belly dance, so I researched it a little. I apologize if I get anything wrong!

T. Nobuo (Nobu)

At first, he was quite confused by your behavior: why would you change your behavior in public?

He blushed a lot when you two were in public and you were flirty with him, and he blushed even more if you shyly hid yourself behind him with your friends

After a while, he got used to that, although he doesn't particularly like you masking your true personality

Regarding your dance, he can't look at you while you perform it, because he'll freeze with his eyes wide open and blush a lot and, after you finish dancing, he won't be able to look you in the face due to embarrassment

Instead, he loves your kind of music!

O. Shin'ichi (Shin)

He understands your change of personality very well, since he does it a bit too, and he really enjoys teasing you when you two are alone

"S-stop it p-please, Shin..." "Oh? You weren't that shy before, were you?"

However, he might get a little jealous if you're too flirty with a fan and, if you've revealed your relationship, he'll definitely appear behind you and glare at the fan

He also blushes when he sees you dancing, but he has a much milder reaction than Nobu: at least he's able to see your performances

Although I don't think your music is his genre, he still comes to your concerts to support you and forces brings the other members of BLAST to go too

T. Yasushi (Yasu)

He's certainly the one who handles your change of personality best: at first he was a little taken aback, but then he got used to it almost immediately, and now he almost doesn't react anymore

Keyword: almost, because you can rarely surprise him!

All you need to do is to change your usual shy behavior to a more flirty one and flirt with him a little when you two are alone, and you'll be able to see a very light blush on his cheeks

Only in that way you can trigger a little embarrassment in him: you won't succeed even if you dance in front of him!

Despite being very busy, between work and his band, he always finds time to go to your concerts, especially because he wants to give you all the support he can

H. Ren

Another one who loves to tease you in private knowing how shy you're...

Really, whenever he can, he makes jokes which embarrass you, just to see you trying to cover your red face

He admires you a lot for the level you've managed to reach, but sometimes he feels a little insecure: why, he wonders, should you be with him, when you've many other men at your feet?

When you dance, his reactions will be two: the first will be to blush a little, the second to think about how beautiful you're

Your music is a source of inspiration for him: he loves listening to you sing, and he often writes the tunes for Trapnest listening to you (it could also have happened his band almost suffered an investigation for plagiarism of your songs)

I. Takumi

Jealous, jealous, jealous, extremely jealous

He's always jealous and overly protective no matter what you do, and that often leads you two to a lot of arguments

For example, does he think you're too flirtatious with a fan? He'll walk towards you, grab you by the arm and drag you to an empty corner, glaring at both the fan and you

Plus, you had to struggle to get him to accept your dance: due to his controlling nature, he really believed he could stop you from dancing; to convince him, you threatened to leave him; finally, he had to give in because, in the end, he loves you, otherwise he wouldn't be with you

Nevertheless, he really likes your music, and he might even ask you to sing with Trapnest

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

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copperbadge · 2 years ago

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You know, I had thought that the old jokes about bad airline food, which were very common in the 1990s, had stopped mainly because airline food had gotten better. It had to have, right? As food technology and chemistry improved, we must have fixed that. I just couldn't know, because mostly I fly Southwest and rarely take a flight longer than about four hours, and Southwest just doesn't do meals.

But now I think probably it's just that airline food is much rarer. Even flights that would have had food twenty-five years ago (pre-9/11) now mostly don't. So it's not that the food is better, it's just rarer. The comedy is less relatable.

I will say that the mushroom tortellini I got in my "lunch" on this flight home was pretty edible, but when the tray was set in front of me I looked at the hardtack bread roll, the very basic salad with its little pot of bland yogurt dressing, and the tortellini in very scant tomato sauce, and I thought, I bet I can hack this. (It's kind of a conference trick of mine -- I have startled many a stranger at a conference breakfast buffet by producing from seeming nowhere a breakfast sandwich, and then informing them that they, too, can take a croissant from the pastry rack, eggs and sausage from the chafing dishes, and jam from the condiments, and make a breakfast sandwich fit for a king.)

Then I decided to write some fanfic of my own damn novels because Eddie Rambler has definitely done this, and if anyone can fix airline food it's him, and if anyone's going to be a willing accomplice, it's Noah "self-propelled trouble magnet and food garbage disposal" Deimos.

"Hey there, friends and fans and everyone keeping it new out there!" Eddie Rambler said, but unlike his usual Photogram openings, his voice was hushed -- not subdued, but much quieter than usual. "I'm coming to you from somewhere over the arctic, and pretty much everyone else is asleep, so I'm trying to keep quiet, which as everyone knows is for me quite an effort. And if you're wondering why I'm not my normal golden well-lit self, it's because I'm filming this in the first-class cabin of an airplane using ambient light and a phone flashlight for a spot."

He leaned back, so that his face wasn't filling the camera anymore, and the rest of the room came into view: a tiny nook with a reclining airline seat. The arm was lifted, and Eddie was sitting sideways on the cushion; on the reclined back of the seat, next to him, Noah was perched, grinning impishly.

"Now, I couldn't sleep so Gregory kicked me out of our two-person cabin, and Noah here had a cabin to himself because his folks are sharing one and he's the odd man out, so he let me come in here to film. Friend of the gram Noah Deimos of course, NoahTheTerror -- " Eddie and Noah both pointed at the same empty space, where a link would later go to Noah's Photogram, "and I are both flying first-class for only the second time in our lives. When I traveled with Truly Tasty I was always on the bus because we had a lot of equipment, and Noah used to be a peasant -- "

"I'm still a peasant," Noah said.

"You're a prince, kiddo."

"I'm a peasant prince," Noah insisted.

"I could kick you back to Economy," Eddie said, grinning at him.

"Well, princehood has perks," Noah allowed.

"Anyway," Eddie said, slinging an arm around Noah and ruffling his hair, "the two of us decided to stay up and get into mischief, which is why we're filming at thirty five thousand feet. We were just going to play cards, but we got to comparing notes about airline food, and about five minutes in I said, whoa, this is content, let's not waste it. So, young prince, tell me what you were saying about airline food before we started filming."

Noah nodded. "First class food is okay. It helps that you're eating it in a really fancy seat and you know how much you paid for that fancy seat. But it's still kinda..." he stuck out his tongue, waggling his head. "It's just served in fancier dishes. And outside of first class...I mean, I'll eat it, but I won't like it."

"It's difficult to make good airline food. There are a lot of requirements," Eddie said. "It has to be mass-produced, it has to keep for reasonably long periods of time, some of it has to be reheatable on an airplane, and I don't know if you know this -- I don't know if YOU know this," he added, turning to Noah, "but our tastebuds literally change when we're on an airplane. Something to do with altitude and pressurized cabins. That's why bloody marys are such a popular cocktail. Tomato juice tastes better on an airplane."

"That's nuts," Noah said.

"So do nuts, actually," Eddie told him. "So you end up with some issues. Bread doesn't keep well or reheat well and the texture gets super weird, that's why you don't get good pastry and your bread roll is dry even in first class. Meat is hard to cook at scale or reheat. Sauces tend to separate -- cream sauce is the worst. Vegetables do okay because you can make a whole bunch of salad at once and it'll stay relatively crisp, and protein in sauce is still the most easily reheatable form of food, but stuff like eggs or breakfast meat has to be pretty greasy to reheat well. And then it's just, you know, greasy."

"So, chef, what's the solution?" Noah asked, clearly feeding Eddie a line, grinning as he did so.

"I am so glad you asked," Eddie replied, just as faux-rehearsed. "I managed to weasel two economy-class dinner meals out of the flight attendants -- don't worry, there were spares, nobody went hungry because of this -- and we're going to hack you an airline meal that's both edible and reasonably nutritious. Ready?"

"Ready!"

Eddie pulled up a tray table that had been folded flat against the wall, and reached in the other direction to bring two trays of food into the camera's view. "So we've got two meals that each have a salad, a little cup of dressing, a roll with butter, and chocolate bites for dessert. This one is a chicken curry noodle bowl with some mango chutney stir-in over here on the side -- I'm using 'curry' and 'chutney' both very loosely, as does the airline -- and this one is mushroom tortellini in pesto. That's actually pretty good, stuffed pasta does well in this kind of situation and I like a pesto, the bright notes really flare. What's the dressing that comes with the salads, Noah?"

Noah checked one of the little bottles, squinting. "Yogurt dill."

"Pretty good. Probably pretty bland. Oh, we also have salt and pepper. Okay, so what we're going to do is take the worst parts of the meal and add a little bit of the best part and basically make you a two-entree meal that's superior to a single entree with sides. Pop open that bread and give our friends a demo."

Noah tore open the plastic surrounding the bread roll, which was oblong, slightly smaller than a hoagie bun. He tapped it on the tray and it clattered stiffly. He broke off one end and crumbs went everywhere; the inside looked dry when he held it up to the camera.

"This is not a good bread roll," Eddie said. "Butter will make it edible, but we can make it better. We have the technology. We have...the dressing. We're going to just get this bread to a nicer texture by adding some of the dressing..."

He split the roll with a knife carefully while Noah opened the dressing, then poured a generous dollop onto the bread, spreading it with the knife. "Let that sink in a minute, let's pick out the best lettuce and tomatoes for the sandwich, here we go...all right. You want a spicy chicken curry sandwich or a veggie sandwich?"

"Curry," Noah said.

"Good call, the dill dressing's going to go nicely with that. All right, we are going to really stir up this chicken in sauce -- it's okay if the noodles get mixed in, that's what we in the biz call texture -- and make sure everything's blended. This mango chutney's going on the other half of the bread to moisten it, and this is -- this is going to get me yelled at by my culinary school teachers," he told Noah, "but we're going to throw that pepper right on the mangos there. It'll add kick to the curry and the hope is that you won't actually get much flavor other than spice. We'll see how it goes. So you got dill dressing with lettuce and tomato, mango chutney with pepper, all that is making the bread nice and soft, and we're going to take some of the chicken curry and slather that right on top."

Noah used a fork and spoon like tongs to scoop curry onto the roll, sitting open on the plate, and then Eddie closed it carefully. Noah reached for it, but Eddie held up a hand.

"Not yet. Finishing is important," he told the teenager. "You have to let the flavors and textures settle a little, and this is also going to ensure it isn't as messy as it could be to eat, because we're classy assholes."

"Nobody classier," Noah agreed.

"The bread needs time to absorb more liquid. So now we take this paper tray liner and just..." Eddie wrapped the sandwich up in the paper, ignoring where the curry stained it yellow, folded the ends under, and tucked them into a complicated pleat that kept the paper tightly wrapped around the sandwich. "Just let that sit for a second -- if we were actually hacking this meal in economy, now's when you'd eat the rest of the curry, while the sandwich settles. What we're going to do is make a veggie sandwich with this other one. Guess how."

Noah frowned. "Well, there's the other salad, and the dressing, and I guess the pesto..."

"Sure, but where's most of this meal's bulk?"

"The pasta -- are you gonna put tortellini on bread?" Noah asked.

"Carb on carb can be delicious but we're going to be more delicate than that -- we're going to open up this tortellini and get that awesome mushroom filling out of it and use that like a pate spread," Eddie said.

"Can I change my order? I want the mushroom pesto sandwich," Noah said. Eddie laughed.

"All right, you're the kid, you get your pick. Let's get this tortellini unfolded," he said, and set to work.

-----

Six hours into their ten hour flight, after Eddie used the first-class wifi to post the video, there was a knock on the door and Gregory put his head in.

"Hey, you're up!" Eddie said, looking up from his book. Noah gave Gregory a wave from where he was playing video games opposite Eddie. "Am I unbanished from our suite?"

"You are in so much trouble," Gregory said affectionately.

"For what? Noah and I have been super duper quiet, we didn't wake you up or bug Michaelis and Jes or anything."

Gregory held up his phone. "Hacking Bad Airline Food With NoahTheTerror," he read from the screen.

"That mushroom sandwich was choice," Noah said, without looking up from his game.

"Curry wasn't bad. Pepper might have been a mistake. I'll workshop it," Eddie said. "Why?"

"Eddie. I love you, but we are literally on a plane owned by a company whose food you just called terrible and hacked so it would be better. Half the internet wants an encore when we get served breakfast, and meanwhile the airline seems torn between promising to upgrade their food offerings and suing you for slander."

"Libel, surely," Eddie said. "I did it in the public record."

"It's libel if it's written down, all you did was talk," Gregory said. "Technically slander."

"Oh, is that all I did?" Eddie asked innocently.

"I blame you," Gregory said to Noah. "You were supervising."

"I'm an innocent child," Noah said, still not looking up from his game. "Easily led astray. Sounds to me like I came under the sway of a bad influence."

"Anyway it's not libel OR slander if it's true," Eddie said. "They won't sue me, if they do I'll bring one of their awful bread rolls to court and make the judge eat it. Nobody would rule against me after eating one of those."

"The dressing helped, but dressing can only do so much," Noah added loyally. Eddie held his hand out for a fistbump and Noah bumped it, finally setting his game aside.

"Seriously, are we busted?" Eddie asked. "Like, genuinely in trouble busted?"

"Probably not, it's mostly just evidence I can't leave you alone for a minute," Gregory said.

"Well, the solution to that was to let me keep pestering you in our own two-seat suite and not banish me because you wanted to sleep," Eddie pointed out.

Gregory opened his mouth to say something, then glanced at Noah and paused.

"If you'd like to leave Noah to his video games and come back to the suite, we can discuss that where young princeling ears aren't listening," he said finally.

"You can just say Eddie wanted to make out," Noah said. "I'm sixteen, not six."

Gregory rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Eddie?"

Eddie leaned over and planted a kiss on Noah's forehead. "Behave yourself. Hydrate and have a snack before we land."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Noah called as Eddie left, snickering.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in, honestly?" Eddie asked, following Gregory back into their cabin, which had one chair reclined (covered in blankets that Gregory had turned into some kind of napping nest) and one upright, with Eddie's stuff piled on it.

"With me, a two. With the airline, probably a five. You might have to do a follow-up," Gregory said.

"Like, the breakfast follow-up, or like an apology?"

Gregory shuffled aside so Eddie could shift his stuff off the chair and sit -- then settled in his lap comfortably, arms resting on his shoulders.

"Well, I say you double-down and make the breakfast post," he said. "But I am now prepared to distract you with making out, as Noah so charmingly put it, if you're interested."

"Oh, now you've seen my impressive sandwich-making skills you're ready to join the mile-high club?" Eddie asked.

"That mushroom thing did look kind of good."

Eddie kissed him. "Tell you what, when they do breakfast service I'll use all the butter I saved from the rolls and make you an incredibly mediocre but edible egg sandwich. If I can get more dressing I could probably even make a decent mayo substitute."

"You can't use my phone for extra lighting," Gregory told him, and Eddie was going to protest, but more interesting things were happening and by the time he remembered to be sullen about it, breakfast was being served.

#Shivadhverse #Food #Airline food

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ninadove · 1 year ago

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fav french media? (films, books, shows, games etc)

OH I LOVE THIS QUESTION THANK YOU SO MUCH 💖

I’m sure I’ll forget a lot of things and smack my own forehead in shame afterwards, but this is what comes to mind right away:

Literature:

Anything ever written by Victor Hugo is a masterpiece. This dude was a terrible human being, but he sure knew how to write, and he contributed to major changes in the social conscience of his contemporaries on many important topics (including but not limited to the death penalty and child labour). To give you a taste, here is my favourite poem ever, which he wrote, because of course he did.

My favourite piece of literature across all categories, though, is and forever will be Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand — the story of a man who convinced himself his unusually long nose makes him monstruous. The concept sounds so silly, I know, but this play is a masterpiece and a wonderful love letter to the French language.

Which brings me to my favourite comic series: De Cape et de Crocs by Alain Ayroles and Jean-Luc Masbou! Basically a twelve-volume-long fix-it fic, disguised as a tribute to French literature. Also, a beautiful bromance.

Visual arts:

Basically everyone in France can quote at least one line from Kaamelott, a comedic (?) series derived from the Arthurian legend. It is so well researched and hilarious — until it isn’t.

I’m sure there’s like, a very obvious movie choice that will come back to me in a minute, but I was raised on Disney and Scooby-Doo, so these are clogging my brain at the moment. Just give it time.

When I was very young, I would watch TV at my grandparents’ and enjoy Les Hydronautes, an animated series about an extraterrestrial explorer documenting the Earth’s marine wildlife in an effort to learn how to better protect her own planet (Aka There Are Many Benefits To Being A Marine Biologist: The Series), as well as C’est pas sorcier, a series of very fun documentaries on a plethora of subjects, from lavender farming to volcanic eruptions.

Obviously, Miraculous gets a place on the list too! 🐞🐈‍⬛

EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT: Fantomette the animated series! This show is single-handedly responsible for my taste for smart women with amazing hair who ride motorbikes and kick ass. It even had Egytpology as a key part of the plot.

Music:

For me Formidable by Charles Aznavour is a classic, a very cute song, and a great place to start if you want to learn French!

A few other favourites include Fanny Ardant et moi by Vincent Delerm, Le Dîner by Bénabar (extremely funny to listen to while thinking about the Diamonds’ Dance) and J’ai cherché by Amir (This one is… Borderline when it comes to grammar, but cute enough that I grin and bear it. Also, it got us an honourable ranking at the Eurovision a while back, which is rare enough to be celebrated).

ALSO. I complain too much about bad translations and poor writing (see previous bullet point) not to show you kids how it’s done with Je vole from Aladdin (a genius play on words which delves into the two significations of the verb “voler”: to fly or to steal).

Video games:

Long ago, before I discovered the wonderful world of Nintendo, I would wait patiently every month for the new issue of Toboclic. This game had everything: cute animal mascots, stories, mini-games, arts-and-crafts suggestions, catchy songs, interactive documentaries… I’m sure my parents still have the CDs somewhere, but they probably don’t run anymore, which is a shame. I miss my friends.

Thank you so much for the ask, this was so fun to write!

@dragongutsixofficial please do this too so we can compare notes! 👀💖

#How do I even tag this #I think I’ll just stick to #random ramblings #frenchblr #tumblr asks

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charles-simmons-fanfiction · 5 months ago

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Their very first year at Welton - Described by Steven Meeks

Description: the tittle is kinda self explanatory. [1,3k words]

The prompt is inspired by @i-love-steven-meeks :3 I had fun writing this. It's pretty much just my personal hcs for pre-canon and there's a few more that I didn't include here actually, so I might make more posts on pre-canon stuff. Anyway, hope you enjoy <3

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡.

The year was 1955. I was twelve, and starting seventh grade.

I had only been in Welton for a week and already missed home. It's not that I wasn't grateful for being at such a prestigious academy, but I had no time to do anything anymore. I had hoped I would at least have the weekends to go explore the library, yet soon I realized weekends were barely enough to finish all the assignments we were given.

The other guys in my class seemed to be in a similar situation, maybe even worse, actually. It didn't take long for some students to start realizing how tough the classes were.

There were a few boys that would stand out, as there usually is. Charlie Dalton and Neil Perry were two of them. They would laugh too loud, talk too much, and generally be disruptive. Charlie, contrary to Neil, was a huge back-talker to the teachers. He got particularly mad at a professor one day, when Neil asked to to go the bathroom and was denied. (I think they even called his parents to complain about him). Both of them mostly talked to each other, and it was clear they were already friends from before Welton.

Every once in a while, the class would be asked to pair up for some project. For as long as it was possible, I did the projects on my own. Pair or groups were always stressful and I like things to be done my way, which was often the right way. Eventually, a professor said no and forced me to look for a pair. That was when I started to get to know my roommate, Gerard Pitts, who also did most of his projects alone.

Pitts was quiet to the point no one actually knew what his voice sounded like. He was the tallest in class and seemed to be a very serious guy. At first, I thought he was intimidating, but soon I realized he was just terribly shy.

Being roommates with him was easy. Most of our interactions could be summarized by "good evening", "good morning" and "can I open the window?". And that was that for at least the whole first month, until the exams started. Pitts barely even slept sometimes, studying for hours on end and still barely getting decent grades.

I offered to help, and that's what I consider the beginning of our friendship. Although Gerard himself would disagree. According to him, we officially became friends when he made a reference to Aslan from Narnia and I actually got it.

As we started to learn how to manage all the school work, we were left with some free time that was mostly used to read and chat outside. Everything seemed boring when it rained though.

It was one of those days. A Saturday without homework was rare, and it was truly a shame how much it was raining. Me and Pitts sat on the stairs, feeling bored while watching the older students pass by.

"Hey, you two," someone called. It took us some time to realize we were the ones being spoken to. I looked up and saw Charlie and Neil, who I still hadn't interacted with before. "Want to play hide and seek? We need more people."

Gerard shrugged, so I said yes.

(Sometimes I wonder how many things would've been different if I hadn't done that. A few days ago, out of curiosity, I asked Charlie what his thoughts were on the matter. His answer was: "nothing, we would've become friends some other way", which is nice to think about.)

We played for pretty much the whole day and probably would've for longer if it wasn't for the chemistry teacher telling us to go back to our dorms at night. Neil won more times than all of us together, and Charlie bruised a knee while he ran from Pitts (who was very unsurprisingly faster), but we hadn't had that much genuine fun in a while anyway and I really needed some reason to laugh at the time. It's a day I hold dear in my memories. Little me had no idea how close I would grow to those people. Heaven knows it was hard for some of us to be away from home for so long.

In a couple months, the teachers already hated our quartet. Even though we didn't even particularly misbehave during class, we were insufferable to deal with if we were all together. I'd be lying if I said I'm proud of how I was, I was pretty stupid sometimes y'know. Not that I ever met anyone who likes their 12 years old self.

Something curious I particularly remember is thinking that Charlie was kind of a bully, and being quite confused on how he was even friends with someone as nice as Neil. As the weeks passed though, I started noticing he only picked on me and Pitts if he knew we weren't upset for real. Turns out Charlie was actually the sweetest out of us, in his own way.

He saw me crying once. I will admit that I did cry a lot in my first year. I missed my room, my old school and my parents. Charlie made some joke about me needing to man up, I don't even remember exactly what he said. I think joking was his first instinct, the guy didn't really know what to do. He apologized later, and stayed with me until I stopped crying.

I mentioned that story to him in tenth grade one time, and he didn't really remember. He had just had a big fight with Neil and they didn't talk for like two weeks. It's the only time I ever saw Charlie cry. I did his homework for him that day and let him stay in my dorm for a while. He ended up falling asleep on my bed, so I had to sleep with Gerard. None of us ever mentioned it again, there was no reason to.

It was in that year that Cameron joined the group, because he was assigned to be Charlie's new roommate. I'm impressed they even let Neil and Charlie be in the same room for that long actually. The two scream so much, no wonder they had to switch rooms.

Knox, on the other hand, didn't share a room with any of us. We became friends in early eighth grade, as far as I can recall. My first impression of him was that he was pretty annoying. Time only proved me right, yet we got along surprisingly well. He became a part of the group quite quickly, although he and Charlie would argue a lot.

I can't quite process it's been four years since I became a student at Welton. It feels like a whole life. What's weird is that as much as I hate this place, I wouldn't change it for the world. Some people are meant to meet, y'know. Right now, I'm currently sitting on my bed as I write this, and Pitts is on his bed, snoring. I'm in eleventh grade now, and there's a new addition to our group. His name's Todd Anderson, he's roommates with Neil. He seems nice, I like him already.

I don't know exactly why I'm writing this. I guess I just want to keep these memories written somewhere, for me to read again someday.

Maybe in the future, like a decade later, I'll be able to bring this up if we still make the dead poets' meetings. I hope we're all still together by then, but I'm not too worried about it. Unless some of us die, we'll be.

I gotta go to sleep now. This was fun to write though.

-Steven Meeks, 1959

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡.

#this feels self indulgent if I'm being honest #but it'll post it anyway. why not #steven meeks #dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets fanfic #dps boys

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imtrashraccoon · 10 months ago

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The first writing request is from my friend @g0nefischin . They wanted to see Papyrus doing something normal and so this is what I came up with!

The Shopping List

Classic!Papyrus & Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,366

With a heavy sigh, you shut your locker and locked it with the combination lock. It was time to face whatever the day brought your way. Squaring your shoulders, you zipped up your uniform vest and began the trudge onto the sales floor.

You worked at a large chain department store and it had been the only job you could seem to land after trying for months. Nowhere you applied at seemed to be hiring, despite having ads for various positions up for ages. Maybe they just weren't looking to hire someone like you though.

To say that you hated your job was an understatement. Not only were the hours long, but also, your shifts were very rarely at the same time each week. This left you with very little free time and you were often too tired to do anything besides look after yourself when you got home from work. You weren't paid nearly enough either and money was almost always tight each month when it came time to pay rent.

You were literally working yourself into an early grave just to survive.

Curse the Wolton family.

Despite your hangups over certain aspects of Capitalism and Corporations, you still had a job to do. It wouldn't do to lose that job just because you didn't want to work. No, you dreamed of going out in a blaze of glory if that day ever came.

Today, you decided to just put your head down and get through your shift, like you nearly always did. The first hour was pretty dull, although you began to hear whispers from your coworkers of a strange person in the store. You didn't care to make conversation and this really wasn't an uncommon occurrence. At this point, you'd seen so many weird people at ungodly hours, that you didn't think anything could freak you out anymore.

Wasn't there a forum for that called r/peopleofwolmart? You'd glanced at it a few times in the past but it just made you lose more of what little faith you still had in humanity. Maybe you'd eventually have your own story to tell on there one day though.

You didn't have to wait long to see who they had been murmuring about.

He was easily the tallest person you'd ever seen in person, maybe close to seven feet tall, and for a moment you wondered if he played any basketball at all. He certainly had the height to do so, but at the same time, he wasn't what you thought of when you heard the word basketball. But what did you know? You only had a passing knowledge of the sport in the first place.

The thing is, his height wasn't the only thing out of the ordinary about him. He was wearing bold, almost blindingly bright clothing and...he was a skeleton.

An entire civilization had been trapped underneath the nearby mountain that this city was named for and only recently had they been granted full citizenship by the local government. Most had moved into an older part of the city by now so it wasn't unusual to see them out and about. You were still to meet one though and you guessed most of your coworkers were in the same boat.

The tall skeleton had on a bright pink tank top with a logo you didn't recognize, a pair of fuzzy red mittens, multicolored shorts that could probably pass for swim trunks, an orange jacket tied around his pelvis, and a pair of tall bright red boots that kind of reminded you of those chunky ones that goth teens seemed to like. The guy looked like he'd stepped out of a colouring book and part of you had to admire the sheer confidence he had to leave the house wearing all that. You could never even dream of doing the same.

He had a shopping basket over one arm with a few groceries already inside and what looked like a shopping list that he was currently scrutinizing.

While he was certainly interesting, you didn't want to be caught staring as he was clearly just going about his day. It wasn't like he was bothering anyone or making a mess that you'd have to clean up. Definitely not something worthy of posting online for everyone to see.

So you went to go restock one of your aisles. It was a good thing one of the managers wasn't around or you might have gotten reprimanded for not approaching him. Screw that noise, he looked like he was doing fine. If he needed help, he'd ask, right?

It wasn't like you were purposely ignoring him either. You hated approaching people out of nowhere and striking up a conversation. So unless it was absolutely necessary, you tried your best to avoid people, even outside of work.

You couldn't help but feel a bit curious about the skeleton though.

You were in the middle of facing and restocking the canned food aisle when you heard someone approaching you. Glancing over, you made eye contact with the tall skeleton from earlier. He didn't seem to have picked up any other items and the way he was scanning the shelves before looking back at his list made you realize he probably could use some help.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that, yeah, you could help this guy. He seemed nice enough and it might be interesting to talk with a Monster.

"Are you having trouble finding something?" you asked.

He seemed a bit startled at first even though your voice hadn't been very loud. Although, he recovered quickly and the corners of his permanent grin quirked up a little. He must've been focusing pretty hard.

"Yes, Actually! I Cannot Seem To Find The Tomato Paste, Although I Am Certain It Should Be In This Aisle."

His tone of voice was louder than you'd been expecting and while you didn't have a headache yet this morning, your sinuses felt a little sensitive just listening to this guy. Maybe he was one of those freaks of nature who could get up with the sun and have energy from the get go? You'd never understand what that was like as long as you lived, in part due to your poor sleep schedule.

You scanned the bay with the various canned tomato products. You'd never understand why there were so many different ways to process the fruit as it would all get cooked down eventually, right?

"Oh, here it is." You pointed at the cans that were located one shelf up from the floor. With his height, no wonder he was having a hard time finding them!

The skeleton's cheerful expression somehow grew even brighter. "Stars, Of Course They Were Right Under My Nose The Whole Time! Thank You, Human!"

You elected not to point out that he didn't even have a nose and instead handed him the cans that he needed since you were right next to them. He stowed them away in his basket and you were about to walk away, when you noticed his smile fell as he glanced back at his grocery list.

Seeing that, you couldn't help but feel a little bad. He'd been so nice during your brief interaction and he probably wasn't familiar with the layout of this store at all. While you couldn't be sure, population wise, there were a lot less Monsters than Humans and they likely didn't have massive stores like what was commonplace up here.

"Was there anything else you needed?" you probed gently.

The skeleton worried at the fingers of his mittens and if he had lips, he would probably be biting his lower one. "I Do Not Want To Be A Bother... You And Your Colleagues Seemed So Busy..." His tone of voice was considerably quieter now, making him sound rather unsure of himself.

You gave him a small smile and shook your head. "It's fine really. I can probably at least point you in the right direction if anything."

He let you see his shopping list and you had to suppress a chuckle at the big, bold lettering that was his handwriting. It suited his personality in your opinion and was kind of cute. Most of the items on the list were located in the grocery section, but there were a few that you knew weren't, such as glitter or a blowtorch. Still, you tried to help him to the best of your ability.

He was apparently quite chatty, which you would normally find a little awkward as you disliked it when strangers tried to engage in conversation with you. It was different with him though. He was very passionate about everything and talking with him almost felt like catching up with an old friend.

He told you how beautiful the surface was, not that the Underground wasn't, but he couldn't emphasize enough how amazing it was to look up only to be met with a near endless sky. He hadn't been outside of Ebbot City yet because traveling was still difficult, but he wanted to go see the ocean one day, among many other places.

He told you about a few of his friends, such as Undyne, who you remembered was the former Captain of the Royal Guard. You'd seen her in passing from various press conferences the King and Queen of Monsters had held. According to the tall skeleton, she was every bit as powerful as she looked and then some. She'd also been the one to teach him how to cook and it had become a passionate hobby of his ever since.

That was why he was shopping today. He was excited to try his hand at the Human method of cooking, whatever that meant, and needed to get specific ingredients for the recipe he was planning to make. When you asked what the differences between Human and Monster cuisine was, he told you that there was basically none. The ingredients were essentially the same, although there were a lot of things Monsters didn't have access to in the Underground. There was one difference though that while seemingly inconsequential, made a world of difference for certain subspecies of Monsters, including himself.

Monster food had magic in it.

Whether it was in the individual components or added during the cooking process, the result was the same. The reason why was because Monsters were almost entirely made of magic and many subspecies didn't have the biology to digest food the way Humans did. Magic made the food easily absorbable so that all Monsters could benefit from the nutritional value of it.

He also told you about his brother, or rather, he complained about him. His brother was quite literally a lazy bones, something you couldn't help chuckling over, and couldn't be bothered to get up early to join him for shopping this morning. Apparently, he also told the most low effort jokes imaginable and tended to spend most of his time slacking off rather than working.

Still, it quickly became apparent how concerned your new tall friend was about his brother's wellbeing, despite how much he had complained about his habits. You wished you had that sort of relationship with your own siblings, but at this point, you doubted that would change.

After successfully, helping him locate nearly everything else on his list, the tall skeleton abruptly turned to you and clasped his mittened hands together in front of his ribcage.

"Thank You So Much For Your Help Today! I Had Tried To Ask A Few Other Associates Before You, But None Of Them Seemed Like They Wanted To..." His smile fell slightly as he trailed off and you felt a pang of guilt at the realization that more than likely they hadn't wanted to help a Monster like him.

He brightened up just as quickly and flashed you a winning smile. "But, I Am Glad You Helped Me! So, Thank You...!" Your heart nearly skipped a beat when he said your name and for a moment you questioned if you'd ever introduced yourself.

You must've looked shocked as well because he was quick to reassure you. "Sorry, I Knew Your Name From Reading Your Name Tag Earlier," he commented.

You couldn't help but feel a little silly. Of course he had noticed that. You'd actually forgotten you were wearing one, despite seeing it every time you put your vest on before your shift started.

"Oh! No it's okay, it just caught me off guard for a second there." You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck, feeling a bit embarrassed as well. "What's your name? If you don't mind me asking anyways...?"

He grinned and puffed out his ribcage a little. You swear he would've struck a pose like some sort of action hero too, if he wasn't currently holding onto a full basket of groceries.

"I Am The Great Papyrus! It Is Wonderful To Make Your Acquaintance, Human!" he exclaimed in that same cheerful tone from earlier.

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's good to meet you too. I can't say I had expected to actually enjoy helping a customer today, but I did."

He let out a laugh that sounded almost exactly like, "Nyehehehe!" You chuckled as well, although a lot quieter than the boisterous skeleton.

He turned to head to the check out but stopped and looked back to you. "Do You Mind If I Stop By To Say Hi If You Are Working When I Come Shopping Next Time?" he asked.

"Sure thing! I'll gladly help you find things again or just have a small chat. I hope you have a good rest of your day, Papyrus!"

He gave a little wave and smiled brightly at you. "Good Bye!" he called out your name once more and then he was gone.

You felt like you were buzzing from sheer joy as a result of the brief time you'd spent with him. You couldn't remember ever having such a pleasant interaction with a customer before today, let alone with a Human one. Were all Monsters this friendly?

You really hoped you'd see him again...

#raccoons drabbles #undertale #papyrus #classic papyrus #reader #gender neutral reader #oneshot #taking from my own retail experiences this time round #i hope Papyrus is not too out of character as i haven't written him yet

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icemankazansky · 2 months ago

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@film-in-my-soul tagged me in this really cool fic meme:

Everyone deserves to toot their own horn and be proud of their work! So, this tag game is fairly simple.

Promote 5 works that you're really proud of and share a little about why you're so proud of it! Then tag as many people as you like. You can reblog this post and add on to it (why not create a giant reclist to throw around?) or steal this header (and border if you like) and make your own post!

The Storm Series

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, E

Eight years after Maverick and Iceman meet at TOPGUN, Maverick is running the program and Iceman is badly injured in combat, which finds him sent back to Miramar to teach until he's fit to fly again. Things move pretty fast after that.

I'm proud of many things about Storm. It was my first major work for Top Gun, and I'm really happy with the characterization. The way the characters and their relationship evolve through the series—I'm proud of that, and I'm proud that I was able to pick up the series after eight years and write two more installments that belong in the universe with the first two. Despite all the ways I had changed as a person and a writer in the time between, I was able to slip back into it like an old coat, and that is something you strive for as an author.

Dreams of Impact

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, M

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

When I was a baby writer, I wrote a lot of really long stories. For several years, I worked with another writer on a collaboration that surpassed 200k words, and we never finished it. That was by far my longest work, but many of my stories pre-2010 are 10k, 20k, 50k.

Now it's rare that I write something that long. Part of that is that I learned how to say a lot without that many words. Pithy was a word I heard constantly in grad school, and I needed to learn how to do that. I have, and I'm a much better writer for it. I'm proud of that.

There are a lot of other reasons that I don't write long, multi-chapter epics anymore, everything from writing professionally to my health, and to be honest, sometimes I miss it. Dreams of Impact offered me a wonderful opportunity to get back to that kind of writing. I enjoyed writing the story very much, and I'm proud of how it turned out. The longer, more-plot heavy story muscles had not been flexed in a while, but I guess I still got it.

the weight of my heart is measured in carats

MCU, Tony/Pepper, G

What's so impressive about a diamond except the mining?

Remember what I said about pith? This one is like a good sword: perfectly weighted, perfectly balanced.

you are the moon that breaks the night for which i have to howl

Willow, Sorsha/Madmartigan, M

Magic leaves a trace, and part of the curse stayed in her blood, and Sorsha never forgot what it was like to be the wolf. Even after her mother transformed her back, the wolf lived still, tucked behind her breast.

I love magical realism, and I love making things into fairytales, and I love finding ways to fit discordant things together so they seem completely natural. I did all of those things very well in this story. It was also a gift for a dear friend who is also an excellent writer, and she absolutely lost her gotdam mind when she read it, and I am proud of that.

running through the underworld into your room

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, T

“Most of my grey hairs you gave me,” Ice said, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice even altered as it was. He paused. “You don’t know how much I wanted this. To grow old with you.”

This story is a standalone piece, but it was also—for me—an exercise (an exploration, maybe) in two very specific things. (It doesn't matter what. What does matter is: Not long after I had posted this, I talked to a couple people—dear friends but also writers I respect—about it once they'd read it, and they both told me how well I had done those two things, even though I hadn't mentioned them anywhere. I'm proud of that. It's extremely gratifying to know you can hit a target even if it's a target no one else can see.)

Tagging: @topgunreacts @escritoireazul @boasamishipper @maverickcalf @adiduck @hangsters @thelastplantagenet @andmakeithome

#fic memes #tag games #my writing

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blossomwritesthings · 2 years ago

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𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: jisung x fem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!jisung. estranged!jisung. softdom!jisung. needy!jisung. nearing breakup. hurt/comfort. angst. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. lots of angst. mentions of estrangement/breakup. slight possessive behavior from jisung. pet names (princess, babygirl/babydoll, etc.). smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 9.4k

summary: things between you and jisung have slowly fizzled out within the past few months. the tension only gets worse after a heated argument that almost ends with your breakup, which ultimately forces him to prove to you how much he still truly loves you.

18+ warnings: dirty talk. oral (f. receiving). fingering. breast/nipple play. slight dom/sub undertones. strength kink. dirty thoughts. hair pulling. praise kink. slight dumbification kink if you squint. unprotected sex (keep it safe, my friends). slight perv behavior from jisung. mentions of masterbation. sweet lovemaking.

a/n: i randomly decided to write this this week after the idea popped into my head, and i was like... hmm, i wonder what would happen if ji's s/o was contemplating a breakup. and then one thing led to another and i found myself fangirling over the idea of jisung being an oral sex god lmao, so here we are!! 😂 also, YES, i'm FULLY on board with the idea of him loving the pet name 'princess.' 😩 lmk what ya'll think of this one... feedback and reblogs are much-appreciated! 🥰

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Truly, your boyfriend was being very fucking unreasonable. Jisung had been working so hard, for so long, it was almost a miracle that he was still standing upright from all of the shit that he put his body through.

Produce music, work out, practice, perform, film, repeat.

Every. Single. Day.

Even you got sick of your job once in a while - so you couldn’t imagine what it was like for him, to wake up every single day and do the same grind over and over again.

But to your utter surprise, he seemed to love it. Sure, it was stressful as hell and toxic at times, but that just made it all the more precious to him, it would seem. Plus, it was a bonus that he got to experience such ups and downs of being an idol with his seven closest friends in the entire world.

However, there were many drawbacks to his busy lifestyle.

And one of them was the fact that he never seemed to catch a break - never seemed to be home long enough for you.

Even when he had a ‘day off’ on a rare occasion, he always filled his time producing new music, practicing a new choreo, or hanging out at the studio with Chan and Changbin.

And doing all of this didn’t help to make your relationship any stronger.

If anything, it left little time for the two of you to truly connect. Especially within the past few months or so. Mainly, you’d just see each other in passing throughout the workdays, as you came to and fro from your shared apartment. And when you guys weren’t rushing off to your separate schedules, you were fucking quick and effortless around the apartment.

At the beginning of the relationship, the sex had been amazing. Mind-blowing, even. Jisung knew his way around a woman’s body, and he wasn’t afraid to use his skills. His tongue was especially powerful - which you gave credit to his fast rapping skills for - and he liked using it on you to tease and tease until you were a sopping wet, begging mess underneath him. The flirt.

But that was a long time ago.

And now?

Well, let’s just say that the sex wasn’t that… mind-blowing anymore.

You couldn’t remember when it had started to feel different. But then one day, it just lost its unique touch. And then, the sessions changed from long nights of lovemaking in the bedroom to quickies up against the shower wall or on the kitchen counter.

There was this odd kind of… distance that was floating between the two of you. You didn’t know if Jisung felt it, since his mind was always so occupied with thoughts of his work and Stray Kids.

You, on the other hand? It was all you could think about. And every time he walked through the doorway of the apartment after a long, arduous day at work, your heartstrings pulled just a little tighter at the sight of his slumped form. Droopy shoulders, mussed hair, skin sticky with sweat from a workout or practice.

It just didn’t feel the same anymore.

It didn’t…

Didn’t even feel like your boyfriend cared about you.

The passion that had been there between you two at the beginning was erased, and in its stead was an odd, shallow kind of companionship.

Yeah, companionship. That’s what it was.

But definitely not romance.

So when you awoke from the long nap that you had been taking one Saturday night, your first thought was to peer over at the other end of the bed.

Empty.

Void of any life-

Of Jisung.

You let out a dry, humorless scoff. Typical

Your week had been jam-packed with work and it was so exhausting, so the nap had been much needed. Sitting up from your pillow, you ran a few fingers through your hair. In silence, you shuffled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

But you completely froze up at the sight of your boyfriend sitting at his desk that was placed in the corner of the small living room. You hadn’t expected to see him. It was only nine at night, and he was never home this early on a weekend night. He was hunched over his keyboard, nimble fingers flying across the keys as he typed, head bopping to a tune that was running through the large headphones he had on.

Just then your stomach rumbled, and you decided to pull your attention away from him. He was busy anyway, it’s not like he was going to talk to you. You made quick work in the kitchen and were soon sitting at the small, two-chaired dining room table with a plate of scrambled eggs and browned, pre-cooked sausages on a plate laid in front of you. You sipped on a tall glass of orange juice as you absently scrolled through your Instagram feed on your phone. Trying to pass the time away mindlessly.

You distinctly felt your boyfriend’s presence in the corner of the adjoining living room, but he was apparently oblivious to you sitting there, eating dinner. Alone. Just like you had done for the last- God knows how long.

You honestly couldn’t even remember the last time you two had shared a meal. And all at once, the eggs turned sour in your mouth. You swallowed around the painful lump in your throat, the tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh- Y/N, I didn’t see you there.” Jisung’s voice rang out across the small apartment, and the sound of it momentarily forced your spine to go rigid, making you sit up a little taller in your chair. He didn’t even use any pet name when acknowledging you then - like he hadn’t done for a long time now.

Just… Y/N.

“What are you still doing up?” He asked. Like he expected you to already be in bed. To be sleeping and dead to the world.

Like he didn’t even fucking want you around.

“Was having dinner,” you started, voice a little scratchy from the unshed tears. You pushed away from the table, standing from your chair. “But I’m not hungry anymore.”

As you made your way back over to the bedroom, Jisung’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Wait- you’re just… leaving the food there?” Not, where are you going? I’ve missed you. Come here, let’s talk. He only cared about the damn food.

You waved a nonchalant hand in the air back his way, “You can finish it, I don’t care.” And with that, you closed the bedroom door shut behind you with a quiet click.

Immediately, you sank to the floor. Face buried in your hands, violent sobs wracking through your body quietly.

Because where - and when - had it all gone so wrong?

A week passed after that, blurring and bleeding together into so many other similar ones of the past. Wake up, watch Jisung leave the apartment at six in the morning for work, then get ready for work yourself, spend most of the day at your job before coming home at seven, then make dinner, eat it by yourself, get ready for bed, fall asleep at nine.

These days, it was rare for you to even see Jisung enter the apartment at night. Sometimes, you wondered if he even came home anymore. Because truly, what was here for him anyway? He had no regard for you. He didn’t care at all, it would seem.

You were bustling about the bathroom, finishing up applying your moisturizer just before you slipped into bed for the night. Then all of a sudden, the door opened, and in filed Jisung.

He was already clad in his pajamas - baggy cream-colored sweatpants and a thin white cotton t-shirt. You were dressed in a matching set close to his, but your pants were shorts and your white cotton shirt was a crop top. You two had gotten the set the year before, as a cute second-anniversary gift. Like it really mattered now...

Jisung moved in silence, and then he was upon you, pressing your back into his muscular chest. He wrapped a loose arm around your waist and burrowed his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Need you,” he muttered against your bare skin.

For one indecisive moment, his words made you freeze up like a statue of stone in your place. Because frankly, it took you back so far in the past, you were suddenly blindsided by nostalgia. Of stolen kisses taken in corners, and heated whispers said in the dark of night, of hands exploring warm skin, and quiet pants falling from parted mouths. Of how he used to say such things to you when he was so desperate - so needy - for your taste.

But then you were brought back to the present. And you were reminded of the fact that he hadn’t said such words in so long, they now felt foreign on his tongue. And you two hadn’t been intimate with each other - quickie or not - in over two weeks. That’s the longest you had gone in… what felt like forever.

“Jisung- get off me,” you said in an annoyed tone, replacing your bottle of moisturizer on the bathroom counter.

He was still clutching onto you, pressing a few delicate kisses onto the skin of your shoulder. And against your better judgment, a quick shiver ran down the length of your spine. “Don’t play hard to get with me, now…” he said, his tone light a humorous.

Like nothing was wrong and everything was fine. As if he had been acting like the picture-perfect boyfriend for the past few months.

When in reality, all of those things were just downright lies.

“I said- get off of me!” The yell tumbled from your lips before you even realized what you were saying. And as you shoved away from his grasp, stepping back from the counter and out of the bathroom, the air around you instantly changed. From one of playfulness and slight desire on his part, to what you had been feeling at that moment. Bitterness, and… heartbreak.

“Y/N- what-” Jisung followed you out of the bathroom. His voice had an incredulous tone to it, as he was no doubt completely thrown for one from your sudden shift in mood.

“I’m just tired, alright? I want to go to bed.” You said curtly. You climbed into bed, resting your head on your cushy pillow, breathing in a sigh of relief at the comforting feeling of the thick downy comforter covering your bare legs. At least something in this hellhole of an apartment still gave you comfort.

And when you heard the bathroom door shutting quietly behind you, signaling that Jisung was finishing up getting ready for bed himself, the tension eased immensely from your shoulders.

Still, it showed that he had given up.

Like an absolute fucking coward.

And quite possibly, that hurt the most.

You fell asleep to the feeling of a single tear escaping out of one of your eyes, rolling down the side of your nose and across your cheek. Staining your pillow with wetness, just like every other night before, too.

“Can we talk?” Jisung said the next day. He shuffled out of the bedroom, the large backpack that he always used to carry his extra pair of clothes for practice and other gear of the like in hand.

It was early in the morning on a Wednesday, and you were busy in the kitchen preparing your breakfast to go. You didn’t have much of an appetite - for obvious reasons Jisung had no idea about - so you just decided to make some oatmeal and throw it in a thermos for you to eat when you got to work. The night before had left you in an odd sort of emotional limbo as soon as you woke up that morning, and your stomach churned painfully inside of you. With anxiety, and heartache.

Peering up from the strawberries that you were cutting to add to your breakfast, you shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He took careful steps toward you, stopping when he reached a corner of the kitchen counter where he leaned one of his hips against it. “Did I… do something wrong last night?”

His question took you off guard so much that your head shot up from the cutting board. Because had he done something wrong? He hadn’t forced anything, but just the entire act of him expecting something from you after his poor treatment of you for so long… that’s what had upset you. Well, that and a whole host of other things. “No, Jisung, I already told you. I was just tired.” You lied to him with a straight face, as you turned back to your work, slicing through the red flesh of a strawberry with your sharp knife.

“You just acted like… I don’t know, you were mad or something,” he started, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see that he swept a hand through his midnight-black hair in a frenzied kind of way. Surely, his next words weren’t going to be ones you liked. “Are we… good?”

Your boyfriend had said a lot of stupid things in the past, namely when it came to telling absurd jokes. But this? Asking if you guys were on good terms when he had been sabotaging the whole relationship for the past few months with his shitty behavior? Now that was just downright ludicrous. “I don’t know Jisung, you tell me.” You decided to say, as you fit your cut-up strawberries in a clean glass container before placing it into your lunchbox.

“What does that mean?”

Your gaze shot up at his snippy tone, and immediately, it was like a switch was turned on inside of you. And then the words started flowing. “Well damn, Ji- I don’t know! How can we be ‘good’ when apparently, you despise me?!” You threw your hands up into the air exasperatingly, your voice rising and echoing across the kitchen. When you noticed him beginning to open his mouth to shoot back a retort, you rolled your eyes. “And don’t give me the bullshit of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ because you and I both know that you haven’t done shit for this relationship for the past… I don’t know how fucking long!”

“Well every time I try to get close to you, you push me away!” Jisung shouted back, folding his arms across his chest. Almost like he was trying to protect himself from your words. Your blows. “Like last night- you just… shut down!”

“Did you ever think that I don’t want to have sex with a man who doesn’t even fucking care about me anymore?” You're clutching your fists together so hard that you feel your nails digging into the tender skin of your palms. But, you keep squeezing anyway. It helps ground you at the moment. Helps to keep the tears at bay that threaten to spill over with every word spoken.

“What the hell, Y/N-”

“And don’t fucking call me that!” You screamed, your voice finally giving out and cracking desperately. The tears were freely flowing now, racing down your heated cheeks that were blooming with a furious blush. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! It’s all you ever call me anymore! Well, I’m sick of it, okay?! Where’s the old Han Jisung? The one that actually loved me and showed interest in me and made love to me sweetly and called me pretty names?!”

Your gazes were painfully locked, and on his face, at that moment, you saw realization dawn upon him. It was so evident in the way that his dark brows creased slightly, the way his bottom lip quivered a little bit, and the way his eyes shone with so many emotions, but mainly- sadness, and... vulnerability?

Too embarrassed to stand there any longer and bare your whole, raw self to him for another second, you quickly grabbed up your lunchbox and made for the living room, where your purse was sitting on the edge of the couch. Then you were turning around and nearing the entryway, slipping on your shoes and coat - after all, it was the beginning of February and it was still cold as fuck out.

Funny, how Valentine’s Day was quickly approaching, and yet your long-time relationship with your boyfriend Jisung was falling apart right before your eyes. Just your luck, it would seem.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Jisung’s voice cracked with unbidden pain as you slipped your thick winter coat on.

And when your hand reached for the doorknob to leave, you felt fingers clutch desperately at your elbow.

“Please- let’s just-”

“Just fucking leave me alone.” You said in a quiet, quivering tone. Your shoulders were still shaking, the tears leaving trails down either of your cheeks.

A tender part of your heart squeezed achingly when you yanked your arm out of Jisung’s grasp. And a tiny, hopeless, strangled sound fell from his lips from behind you, just as you crossed the door’s threshold and barreled out into the cold morning air beyond.

All day, you couldn’t focus at work. You trudged through your routine wordlessly, filling out documents and signing off on things. But inside, your mind was drifting from one thing to another. Would Jisung be there when you returned home to the apartment that night? Or would you come home to a barren place, with him having taken out all of his things?

Did your fight mean that you guys had broken up?

Where did you two stand with one another?

Everything was so murky and fucked up, that by the time you finished work, you were glad that you would be home two hours later than usual. Maybe that’d give your boyfriend enough time to hi-tail it out of there before you met him once more. Before you had to relive all of the trauma and hurt all over again from that morning - from the last few months.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself and steel your rising nerves, as you stood outside of your apartment’s front door that night. It was just past nine, and surely he’d still be at work. Surely, he’d be busy with the boys, practicing the night away, while you drowned in a pint of freezer-burned chocolate ice cream and tears on your bed.

When you opened the door, you immediately noticed how the apartment was quite dark. A tiny sigh of relief left your lips at the sight of shadows filling in the corners of the living room.

He wasn’t home, then.

Good.

And you couldn't remember the last time you had ever thought such a thing-

That your once-loving boyfriend wasn't home, and that that was a good thing.

The feeling quickly became sickening, and you swallowed around a thick lump in your throat.

After peeling your winter coat away from your sweater-clad arms and fitting your shoes back onto the small shelf that you kept near the door, you made your way out of the small entryway and into the kitchen.

But you stopped in your tracks upon the sight that you found there.

Your entire body seized up in surprise,

Spine going rigid,

Hands clenching and then unclenching at your sides.

For there, at the small dining room table, sat your boyfriend, Jisung.

A satiny, maroon-coloured cloth lined the wooden table, and you noticed the fine china that was placed on either side of the thing. The white proclaim plates were filled with what looked like Italian food - loaded with saucy pasta, roasted vegetables, and thick breadsticks. There were two crystal wine glasses too, filled to the brim with velvety red wine.

And at the centre of the table was a vase of flowers - it was bursting with a bouquet of crimson-red and baby-pink roses, sunset-orange daises, and pure-white baby's breath. Around the vase of flowers, laid a handful of candles, their bright wicks flickering in and out with the heat that quietly blasted throughout the apartment. No wonder why all of the lights had been turned off- to give way to the romantic ambiance of such a spread.

In an instant, your heavy purse slipped from your hands. You felt your heart leaping wildly inside of you, thumping against your ribcage in an almost painful kind of way. And only then, did your eyes find your boyfriend’s form in the dim lighting. He was dressed in a simple black long-sleeved t-shirt, the fabric tight around his toned chest. You noticed the black, tight-fitting jeans that wrapped around his legs, hugging every corded muscle flawlessly. His midnight-dark hair was styled messy, hanging low in front of his eyes, and your gaze caught on a thin silver chain that hung around his neck, showcasing his milky-smooth skin.

“Welcome home, baby girl.” Jisung’s voice came out soft and silky. Your eyes locked on his lips, as they moved to form the words. Then, he was standing up from his seat, nearing you ever so slowly. Like you were an animal he was hunting, and he was afraid he’d scare you off with the slightest of movements.

Your eyes found his in the darkness, and there, you saw an abundance of emotions- fondness, love, and… hesitance. “W-What is going on?” You managed to get out, limbs a little shaky as he came so close to you, you caught his scent. He always smelled of a mix of maraschino cherries and sweet lollipops. The smell was so lovely, yet it always did wonders to calm you down.

“Sit, baby.” He whispered. Reaching out, he took ahold of one of your hands and slowly pulled you towards the dining table. He pulled out your seat for you and helped you ease into the plush chair. Then, he was rounding the table once more and taking up his previous position across from you.

“What is all of this, Jisung?” You asked, brows raising in question as your eyes perused the spread in front of you. You hadn’t noticed the small tiered cake before, but the dark pink buttercream frosting seemed to glimmer against the candlelight, and instinctually, your stomach rumbled with hunger.

“An apology,” he began quietly. His stare was locked with yours across the table, and when he leaned over and grasped one of your hands, fingers sliding between fingers, your heart leaped in the pit of your chest. He squeezed your palm gently. “After… after you left this morning, I was a total fucking mess. Came into work practically bawling my eyes out like a stupid baby. The boys were so worried, and after they managed to get everything out of me, they helped me plan all of this.”

You squeeze his hand back, offering a tiny smile. A little kindness wouldn’t hurt, right? At least you could give him what he hadn’t given you in so long. “The setup is lovely. I… I honestly don’t know what to say…” Your voice trailed off, cracking at the end of your words. When you felt the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes, you bit down hard on your bottom lip to quell them from spilling down your cheeks.

Jisung cursed under his breath, shaking his head once, before speaking lowly, “You don’t have to say anything, darling. I’m the one who messed up, who fucked up colossally,” he said, shoulders quaking just a little bit from the sentiment of it all. His eyes were dancing with so much hurt and heartbreak, and at that moment, you wanted nothing more but to get up from the table and envelop him in a long hug. But no- for once, you weren’t going to give anything… for once, you were going to take. “I had no idea what you’ve been going through these past few months. I’ve just been so… caught up - obsessed - with my work that I failed to acknowledge the one thing tethering me to it all. And I’m so sorry. I realize my mistakes now, I understand what I’ve done.

“But… I know that you have no obligation to accept my apology. You’ve been putting up with my bullshit for so long, I wouldn’t blame you if you called it quits right now. And if you do decide to do that, you must know how I feel. I have enjoyed every moment that I've spent with you, while we were friends and lovers. And I’d never give it up for anything else in the world. I love you so, so much. And I never want to hurt you again, not like this.”

You were squeezing onto his hand so tight, you were sure your nails would leave imprints into his palm long after you pulled away. The tears were racing down either of your warm cheeks, your heart cracked open and bleeding with pain. Because the apology was truly genuine. You knew Han Jisung - had known him for so many years now - and you could automatically pick up on when he was telling a lie. But this? This was pure, unadulterated sorrow. He was so remorseful for what he had done, and the distressed look on his face clearly showed how he truly felt. The furrowed brows, the firm press of his lips, the sallow-colored cheeks, the misty eyes.

And suddenly, everything was made so very clear to you.

You knew exactly what you had to do.

“I forgive you.” The words left you quietly, but Jisung heard them nonetheless. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the confession. Because you loved him too. And all at once, you understood that leaving him, ending the relationship, would just create even more pain for the both of you. And you weren’t a mean person. You cared for your boyfriend deeply and wanted to make things work out. “You really hurt me, you know? All of the late nights away from home, and then the heartless quickies. It became so… tiring, to not have a connection with you anymore. But, I want to try again. I want to make things right, and try and revive the relationship.”

You offered him and minuscule smile, and he mimicked your expression tenfold, the happiness blossoming across his face like an infectious disease. “Yes, yes, I’ll do anything, baby. Anything to save us.” He exclaimed faintly, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. A ripple of fire cast through your body at the contact of his lips. “But first, before we work out the details, can we please eat? I’m so hungry, I think I could eat an entire cow right now!”

A hearty laugh escaped past your lips at his absurdity. And almost instantly, it was like you were back to how things used to be - how the old Jisung used to be, the one that would crack jokes all the time around you, the one that would flash you a cheeky grin every other sentence, the one that always made your heart race wildly.

“Yeah, sure,” you looked down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that was practically lighting up your entire face, “the food looks great, the boys did a great job in helping you.”

“Mhm, I did most of it though,” he said in between a huge bite of pasta. “But you know how they get… especially Seungmin, always needing the credit.” He rolled his eyes at you, and you both burst out into a fit of laughter.

It felt good to let loose in front of him. To laugh your head off, without feeling like you were a burden. And in no time at all, you were digging into your serving of pasta, savoring the salty sauce as it coated your tongue in a mouth-watering kind of way.

“Can you hand me that knife over there?” Jisung asked an hour later, as he slotted a bowl into the dishwasher. You two were currently cleaning up the kitchen from the bomb that had been left off in the wake of him and the boys trying to make a romantic dinner for the two of you.

You leaned across the granite countertop and passed him the knife, before going back to wiping down the stove with a damp towel. You guys had passed the dinner with a mix of serious conversation and silly jokes. Over the meal, you guys had decided on what the future looked like. Jisung promised that he’d talk to Chan and his managers about it, but he was positive that he’d be able to leave work at least an hour earlier than he usually did every day. And you promised that you’d keep in touch with him if you were ever running late because of work. You guys planned to set every Friday night aside for the two of you to have a date, even if it was just staying at home and lazying around together, it was a time you'd get to spend together, just the two of you.

Neither of you had brought up the sex during dinner, and to be candid, you were a little too embarrassed to talk about it with him. You had no idea why, when you had been dating for so long. But, the idea of explaining your true, most-inner feelings about it all was quite… daunting, to say the least.

“Well, the cleanup is done, at least. I’ll have to clear the table tomorrow,” he said a few minutes later, just as he closed the dishwasher and started up a new cycle. You were leaning against the counter on the opposite side of him, your focus on your hands, as they wound and unwound the damp cloth between your fingers. “Thanks for all of the help, baby girl.”

At that, your head shot up, eyes wide as your focus locked with Jisung’s. “W-Why do you keep calling me that?” You stuttered out, mouth parted just slightly in surprise.

“Why?” He raised a dark, quizzical eyebrow your way, “you don’t like it?”

You felt a deep blush wash across your cheeks at his question, and your eyes flicked away from his that were slowly darkening. “N-No, it’s just… I’m not used to it, I guess.”

“Oh, so then you do like it…” His serious voice resonated out across the kitchen. And then he was moving closer to you until he was standing just a hairsbreadth away from your form. Slender fingers reached out, fitting underneath your chin and turning your head so that your eyes locked for what felt like the millionth time that night. “What else do you like, baby girl?” His pupils were dim and blown wide, the shadows in the room seemed to cast across his shoulders, cloaking him in unbidden desire.

“J-Just you, Ji.” You breathed out, as his fingers traveled away from your chin, before cupping your cheek.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, darling.” Your boyfriend mused. His nails grazed across your feverish skin, sending a shudder to course down the length of your spine. “We never talked about the sex… but I assume there will be no more quickies?”

You swallowed, once. “No, I don’t like them. They’re- they’re not you, babe.”

“Really?” He asked, the heady scent of him filling your nostrils as he stepped closer to you. His hand left your face, as he clutched at either of your hips and helped ease you onto the kitchen countertop that was just at your back. Slotting himself between your parted legs, his fingers dug into the fabric of the tight jeans at your waist. “Then, what is me, baby?” He leaned into you, pressing a tentative kiss against your lips.

And holy fuck, did it feel good.

To have him so close to you,

So intimate.

Holding you so tightly to him.

The safety you felt in his embrace seemed to overwhelm you, and your shoulders shook a little bit with the love that radiated from his face just then. “Y-You love me, wholly and completely,” you began, as he pressed another kiss to your mouth. This one was a lot more passionate than the last and swirled the pool of fervency that was slowly building deep inside of you. “You m-make love to me sweetly.”

You leaned into him then, as his teeth ran along your bottom lip. Your mouth opened, and his tongue swiped at yours. A strangled moan flew from you, and he swallowed it whole with a groan of his own.

“Do you want me to make love to you sweetly now, baby girl?” He grunted in between your kisses. His voice was silky smooth, like the darkest of chocolates. And when your mouths unlaced from one another, a hot string of saliva trailed after his pretty, swollen lips.

Nodding your head desperately, you almost surprised yourself with the sudden earnestness that flooded through your entire system. Because truly, you had been waiting - wishing - for such a thing for months. And finally, your boyfriend was giving it to you. Not out of spite or hatred, but because he loved you. “Y-Yes, I want that so much…” You breathed, the blush erupting into a furious heat across your cheeks.

When Jisung’s lips spread into a knowing smirk, eyes alighting with a certain kind of fire, you had to forcefully press your legs together to quell the rising arousal that had been building in your core. In all honesty, it had been building since the moment had said he loved you, back at the dining table over dinner.

“Well, because I love you so much, and you've been so good for me tonight, I'll give in to you, darling.” Your boyfriend’s hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up from the counter and into the air. You wrapped your legs around his torso, as he led the two of you out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom. The whole way, you clutched onto his shoulders tightly, heart racing with anticipation.

He laid you down atop the bed, and the silence took over. He said nothing, as he reached forward, taking ahold of your jeans zipper and single button and pulling them free. Then, all at once, he was shucking your pants off in one fluid movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he cast them aside on the ground. Jisung reached behind him, clutching at his shirt before hoisting it over his head and discarding it somewhere next to you.

You swallowed audibly at the sight of his bare chest. The only light shining in the bedroom was a dim nightlight plugged into the far wall near the bathroom, and its amiable hue cast an ethereal kind of glow across his tanned skin. The well-toned muscles on his arms seemed to shimmer in the light, the definition of his abs rippling with every breath he took. For the most part, during your quickies within the past few months, he hadn’t undressed that much. It mainly just consisted of him tearing his pants down, pushing your panties aside, and finishing within ten minutes. There was nothing romantic about it, which is why you absolutely hated it.

Biting your lip at it all, you squirmed underneath him. He liked your reaction to him, liked the way you ogled his chest. It was evident by the way a lazy grin broke across his face. “Your turn,” is all he said, before diving into you and pressing a fervent kiss against your mouth.

Within a few breaths, he had your shirt off and was working at unclasping your bra. At the thought of him seeing you naked save for your panties, panic suddenly started to rise into your throat. You hadn’t fully laid out in front of him in a very long time. What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if you were ugly to him after such a prolonged period of not seeing you?

“W-Wait,” you managed to get out, swallowing thickly. Jisung’s fingers instantly stopped at your bra clasp.

Worry started to fill his eyes as he said, “Do you not want to-”

“No!” You blurted out, a little too quickly for your good. Your hastiness was made clear then, and a tiny, pleased smile spread across Jisung’s mouth at the sight of it. “It’s just… what if you don’t like what you see?”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at you, a frown darkening his face. “Why in the world would you ever even think that?”

Your breath turned shallow, limbs shaky at the swarthy look he was leveling your way. He had always hated when you doubted yourself- when you questioned his attraction to you and your body. “I-I don’t know… it’s just been, a long time since you’ve seen me like this, that’s all.” Your eyes pulled away from his defined chest, locking with his once more. “I’m worried you won’t… like what you see.”

Jisung didn’t allow you to say anything else then, as he tipped down into you and pressed a feverish kiss against your mouth. “Baby girl, don’t ever say such things like that again, I love you so much. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He rumbled against your lips before his kisses began to travel around your face. He pecked the tip of your nose, both of your cheeks, and your forehead, before coming back to your lips. “Now, may I see you? Will you allow me to show you how much I care about you - how much I love you?”

You found yourself nodding your head in a frenzy, sucking in your bottom lip in anticipation. Your boyfriend flashed you a pleased smile before his fingers made quick work of your bra. Not five beats later, he had it off of you and laying on the floor near the bed. At the feel of being completely naked underneath him save for your soaked panties, you fought the urge to squirm and cover yourself up.

“Fuck,” he practically growled out the words at the sight of your bare form. “You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” his eyes trailed away from your exposed chest, locking with your eyes once more. “Love you- shit, love your body so fucking much.” He murmured against your skin, as he pressed a few kisses against your jaw.

“J-Ji-” you mewled at the feeling of his mouth traveling down the column of your neck. His teeth bit into the warm flesh, leaving love marks for the next day. His lips sucked down on your clavicle, fingers digging into your bare hips. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling at the black locks hard as his mouth moved down the centre of your sternum.

“Always thinking about you- you know that, princess?” He mused against your skin, mouth circling one of your breasts with a smattering of kisses. “My mind always comes back to you in the dead of night, when I’m alone in the studio. I daydream about this very sight- having you under me, quaking from my touch alone.” Then his lips were hovering over one of your pebbled nipples, hot breath fanning against gooseflesh. “Because only I get to do this, right? Only I get to see you utterly bare like this…”

Your focus was completely on your boyfriend, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against your breast. “Y-Yes, only you get to have me.” You mewled out, clutching at his roots a little harder when his hot tongue darted out and drew a long stripe across your raised nipple. A hiss left your lips at the action.

“Shit, baby- love your tits so much,” he muttered in a quiet voice. His tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, then he was fitting his entire mouth over your mound, taking in as much of you as he could. He lapped and licked at your breast, teeth coming down to graze against your puckered nipple. You felt one of his hands leave your hips, and travel up your side until just stopping at your other breast. There, he filled his palm with your enflamed flesh, rolling your throbbing bud between his fingers. You were a groaning mess under his tongue, writhing with pleasure.

“F-Feel so good, babe,” you whispered, yanking on his hair and pressing his face closer to your chest as he continued to pay ardent attention to your breast.

After a few beats, he pulled away, mouth red and puffy, leaving a trail of hot saliva around your breast. “I fantasize about these all the time- imagining what it’d feel like at that moment to take your gorgeous nipples into my mouth.” His eyes flitted up to yours, which were still locked on where he was pleasuring your chest. “Fuck- almost every day, I pump myself dry to the thought of your beautiful tits bouncing up and down as you ride my cock so perfectly- as I spread your legs and take you fully, as I pound into your flawless little cunt from behind.”

“Y-You thought about me like that, even after all this time?” The surprise drips into your tone, cheeks heating up with rosiness as his head moves over to your other breast that his hand had been playing with. Your heart leaped wildly in your chest at his movements, and you felt the juices practically dripping out of your core, skating down the inside of your thighs. Because truly, you had never known. You had just assumed that, for the past few months, you’d never crossed his mind… after such a long period of the intimacy waning between the two of you...

He smiled against your skin, pressing a fiery kiss against your nipple that had yet to be lapped at by his tongue. “Of course I did, babydoll. You’re always on my mind- you never left it, not even for a single moment.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring the way that he fit his mouth around you in a perfect kind of way. Your fingers shook slightly as you carded them through his silky locks, trying to get as close to him as possible. The moans fled from your lips freely, and the breath caught in your throat at the feel of his clothed bulge pressing against one of your thighs, close to where you needed him most. He was still clad in his tight skinny jeans.

“Baby- n-need you,” you whined after he had pulled away from your breast a few beats later, his face flushed with so much lust. His gaze locked with yours, pupils like twin pools of fire that were so fucking scorching, as he stared down at you, studying your kiss-swollen lips and fluttering eyelids.

“You need me, hmm?” He traced a single index finger down the middle of your chest, nearing your waist. “Where do you need me, princess? Tell me…” His finger trekked down one of your legs, starting to draw tiny shapes in the skin of your inner thigh. “You need me right here, on your thighs?”

“N-No-” you managed to say in a quiet voice. A velvety hush came over the entire bedroom, as you watched his finger slowly trace up your skin until the slim digit was just outside the line of your panties.

“You need me here, baby girl? Between your legs, touching your warmth?” He pushed the nude-colored panties aside a bit, and immediately, his finger was slicked with your arousal. “Damn it- you’ve soaked through this shit.” Jisung grabbed ahold of your panties and dragged them down your shivering legs before discarding them somewhere behind him.

“Wanted this for so long, Ji,” you started, a low buzz humming in your ears at the way his pupils darkened at the sight of your completely bare form. Finally.

He tipped down towards you, beginning to pepper light kisses against either of your thighs, nearing your throbbing core ever so slowly. “Oh, yeah? What did you want for so long, darling?” His voice was hushed against your skin, and you felt the desire churn in your core at the way he said the words in such a low register. The tone he only used on you - for you - late at night, when it was just the two of you, and he was filled with so much passion.

“Wanted you- face nestled into me, kissing my worries away, licking me clean.” A surprised squeak fled from your lips as soon as his mouth landed on top of your cunt.

“You’ve always had a thing for my tongue, haven’t you, princess?” Jisung said, his voice rumbling against your sensitive flesh and shooting a zap of energy to course throughout your veins. You felt him smirk against your lips, just as he delved into your heat.

And all at once, you were reminded of what you had been missing for so very long…

Slender fingers prying you open slowly,

Practiced thumb pressing against your puffy clit,

Kisses peppered up the length of your warmth,

Tongue drawing a stripe down your lips,

Before thrusting into you, tasting your very essence.

You bucked your hips against your boyfriend’s face, loving the way he twisted his tongue inside of you, the way he used his fingers to pry you open for better access, the way he traced circles around your clit. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it had been set on fire, and loud pants fell from your mouth every time he kissed you, every time he tasted you, every time he hummed against your exposed core in approval.

“Taste so fucking good, babydoll… like the sweetest candy on earth,” he growled after he had pulled away from you to catch his breath. This face was messy with you, lips glossy with your slick. The sight of his flushed cheeks and blown pupils alone was so fucking hot, a choked moan escaped from deep inside of you, and your hands frantically traveled down to the waistline of his jeans.

“N-Need you right now, baby,” you said, voice hitching slightly. It felt like your heart was beating a mile a minute against your ribcage, thoughts moving slowly inside your head like they were trapped in a thick vat of molasses. Your fingers flew at his zipper and Jisung was silent, as you worked his jeans and boxers off completely.

His cock sprung free instantly, the head red and swollen, precum dripping out of the slit and splattering onto the bed haphazardly. You swallowed audibly at the sight of his girth. It had been a while since you had gotten a clear view of… him. And, it was mouthwatering, to say the least. You reached out, palm open and supple, as you took hold of him.

“Damn it- baby… you intimidated by me?” He chuckled dryly, noticing how your mouth was slightly hung open in amazement. You pumped your hands up and down his length a few times, earning a string of curses from Jisung. “Fuck- any more of that and I’ll be a goner, princess.” He ripped your hands away from him and moved so that your fingers were positioned above your head.

Without any guidance, you opened your legs wider, as he slotted himself between you. He clasped down hard on your hands with one palm, while the other found its way back to your core, fingers caressing your inflamed clit. You held your breath in bated silence, waiting, and watching, as Jisung’s tip neared your entrance.

Then, he was sliding in with one fluid, effortless movement. Your mouth fell open, breath falling in short increments, at the fullness you felt slowly taking over your entire body. It was like absolute heaven, with him slowly bottoming out, the tip of his cock hitting that fiery, gooey spot deep inside of you.

“Alright?” Jisung’s deep voice broke you from your daze of lust. You hadn’t realized you had closed your eyes, and when they met your boyfriend’s face, there was a single crease in his brow. Like he was worried that he’d hurt you somehow.

“Feels so good- please, just, fuck me, Ji-” you whined, throwing your head back onto one of your pillows, a loud cry falling from your mouth as you felt him begin to move inside of you.

As he thrust in and out, in and out, the lewd sounds of your lovemaking overtook all of your senses - filling the room with skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex heavy in the air. Jisung set a fervent pace, reaching so far into you that every time he pulled back, and then shoved himself between your lips again, literal stars danced against the blackness of your vision.

“You like this, baby girl?” Jisung rasped out, as he pushed into you vigorously. You were a sopping wet mess, which made for slippery work between your legs. Still, Jisung didn’t mind, and it only seemed to edge him on even further. “Like when I fuck you nice and sweet? Is this what you’ve wanted all along, hmm?”

Nodding your head frantically, a scream tore from deep inside of you at the feel of his fingers pressing down hard on your inflamed clit. You were practically writhing from head to toe underneath him, your arms shaking as he held them up above your head. “Y-Yes, please… don’t stop…” Your voice came out breathless and airy, as he hit a particularly fiery spot inside of you.

“Oh trust me, babydoll, I won’t.” His hand continued to play with your reddened bud, as he rutted into you like a man who had been starved of sex for a fucking millennium.

Then, you felt him move on top of you, face nearing yours and lips kissing their way up the expanse of your neck, nearing your chin, before stopping at your mouth. He stopped just then, seductive breath fanning across your face.

“Kiss me?” You asked, voice high and squeaky in your throat. Because at that moment, with him so close to you, his cock buried so deep, his fingers abusing you so well, you suddenly felt so fucking vulnerable.

At the way you peered up at him with big, innocent eyes, your boyfriend immediately let go of your hands that he had been holding above your head. “Ah- baby, how can I ever say no to such a beautiful face- such a sweet voice?” He cooed down at you. Your fingers found their way into his onyx-colored hair again, slightly pulling at the roots.

Jisung’s scent - of maraschino cherries and sweet lollipops - overtook you, as he bent down, invading your space. The way his mouth captured your lips, tongue lapping at your own, did wonders for your throbbing heart. And all at once, you felt your high quickly approaching.

“Love how supple you get when I fuck you like this…” He whispered against your lips when you had both pulled away to catch your breaths. The charming, gentleness of his voice was a stark contrast to what the rest of his body was doing - how his hands now dug into either side of your hips, how he pounded into you so perfectly with a relentless pace. “So pliant and adorable- princess lets me take care of her well, yeah?”

He pressed another few kisses against your lips, smiling in between them at the nods that you gave him. “L-Love when you call me that… princess…” you confessed, a furious blush creeping over your cheeks at admitting such a thing. You had missed all of the pet names over the past few names. But that one? Princess? You didn’t exactly know why, but it just did something ethereal and magickal to your soul every time he called you by the endearing name.

“You are a princess, baby… my princess.” Jisung gripped onto your hips harder just then, slamming his cock into you so fiercely that a tiny, pathetic whimper left your mouth. “Now… can you be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart?” He kissed you again and again, and you felt your heart swell up inside your chest from the gesture.

So charming.

So loving.

So soft.

And all at once, you were letting go. Squeezing your eyes shut desperately, galaxies exploding across the inside of your mind. Skin heating up so well, so quickly, that it felt like you had been doused in a pit of flames. Limbs shaking irrevocably, your core clenching around Jisung’s cock, as he chased his own high. You pulled at his silky waves, a string of moans rising from deep within you as you reached the peak of your arousal.

“F-Fuck, you take me so well- so perfect,” Jisung grunted somewhere close to your ear. In your daze of orgasmic bliss, you faintly heard him mumble praises. Praises about you, about your exquisite body, and your enchanting personality. But it was all lost on your ears amidst the dizziness of your fall.

Then you felt your boyfriend stiffen up inside of you, and his entire body shuttered from above as he finally found his release. You felt his seed coat your still-clenching walls, and a content sigh left you at the familiar feeling of it all. Jisung was a moaning mess on top of you, his voice growing so loud with his release, you were sure the neighbors could hear him. He hadn’t cum inside of you, without a condom on, in what felt like ages. And it felt like pure, utter euphoria.

Jisung continued to say soft praises into your ear as he rode out both of your highs, his thrusts turning shallow and sloppy. You moved your head, eyes opening, so that you could see the expression on his face- the tips of his ears were bright red, dark pupils were blown wide, a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead, and his lips were pink and kiss-swollen.

“You’re so pretty, babe…” You surprised yourself by actually voicing your innermost thoughts. You had told him such a thing in the past, and almost always, he always batted it away. You reached up to tuck a stray piece of his messy hair behind one of his ears.

“You’re even prettier,” his tone was raspy from all of the groans that had fallen from his lips. He pulled out slowly then, and a small cry left you at the sudden absence of him. If you could, you’d love to live the rest of your days out with his cock buried inside of you. But alas, your dreams never seemed to come true. “Always look so celestial- like a little pixie faerie, whenever I fuck you…” Jisung flashed you an effortless grin, pecking one of your reddened cheeks, before stepping off of the bed and flitting over to the nearby bathroom to grab a towel for cleanup.

When he came back, the fuzziness around the corners of your mind was finally gone, and you were able to get somewhat of a grasp on your surroundings. On the way that he leaned down into you, so very close, to wipe a damp cloth against your sticky thighs.

“Love you.” You said at that moment. Silence had enveloped the room, as he made quick work of cleaning the two of you up. But your words seemed to crack open a little warmth into the sex-filled air.

Jisung’s head turned up and his gaze found yours, his sparkly, doe-like eyes widened slightly in surprise. A smile that mirrored yours just then cracked on his lips, and he was soon trekking over to you, where you were still sprawled out atop the bed's rumpled sheets.

“And I love you, too.” The last thing you saw before he took your face into either of his hands was his grin, and how it looked maniac-like. The last thing you saw was the look of pure adoration and love shining across his face, as he pulled you close to him and kissed you sweetly.

Because even though things hadn’t been that great between you for the past few months,

And even though he had been absent for a long time,

And even though your guys’ sex life had gone down the proverbial drain,

Things had somehow turned around.

He had turned things around.

With the beautifully-planned dinner, the delicious food, the tender words, the sweet kisses, and the much-needed lovemaking.

So things could only go up from here…

As long as you two guys had each other,

And as long as you kept fighting for what mattered-

For the relationship-

For each other-

Things would somehow work themselves out, eventually.

Fin.

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