#I was going to write a grand event but he hates those with a passion

[jasmineoolongtea]

i wish i hated you - geto suguru

"wish there was worse to you, i wish that you were worse to me"

contents: geto suguru x gn!reader, lovers to exes, angst, hurt + comfort, hurt + no comfort, following the events of the hidden inventory arc, gojo and shoko appearance as well

summary: it's been a few weeks since your seemingly happy relationship with geto came to and end in the blink of an eye, leaving you reeling from the aftershock. now tasked with cleaning up your dorm for graduation, you're sent down an unfortunate trip down memory lane of your and suguru's relationship and end after his departure.

wc: 2.4k ish

a/n: inspired by i wish i hated you by ariana grande. even though i do like writing fluff, my true passion is actually angst, especially writing gut-wrenching angst to sad music. hope you guys enjoy this one and any likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <33

A clean breakup. No tears, no snot, no painful begging to rethink the other's actions or to fight for whatever was left of the relationship. "It was better this way." He said, "We're not like those other couples, we're better than that." All you could do was nod as the knot at the bottom of your throat began to constrict itself into a weight that felt like it was going to drag you down with it.

What if you weren't better than them, you would think to yourself late at night. It wasn't like you were asking for a massive breakup fight like one straight from the movies, screaming and crying at each other through a thunderstorm, broken plates being tossed around haphazardly with you two spitting venomous insults at each other. You just wish that at least it ended like it was something, rather than nothing but even in your dreams, all you can find yourself doing is repeating the mistakes of your past as you stand there frozen in place, watching as his silhouette fades into the foggy recesses of your mind.

No matter where you went, it felt like you were constantly haunted by his presence, or whatever remained of it at this point. Hell, even your room didn't feel like it belonged to you anymore. You were a temporary guest that drifted through its old walls that echoed the haunted past of happier days, where you would lay with Suguru under the blankets, whispering sweet nothings, until both of you fell asleep. Every single thing in that room had been touched by him, in both a metaphorical and literal sense, to the point where if you closed your eyes hard enough, you swear you could feel him hovering in front of you. In times like those, you foolishly reach out to see if you steal back a few seconds of happiness, to see if you can experience his touch for only a fleeting second but are only met with nothing but the cold, empty silence around you.

If it was up to you, you would take nothing from your room when the time came. Ideally, it would become a time capsule, perfectly preserved to the point where you could still see the shadows of a not-so-distant past dance across the walls once the sun had set. Maybe once in a while, you would find yourself there again, making your way towards the bed that barely smells like him anymore and curl up to the memories of days when you and him would plan your futures together.

"Suguru," he hums in response, his back towards you as you card your fingers through his raven locks from the mattress behind him. "What are your thoughts on getting a pet together?"

"I could see us getting a cat together in the future." He replies, leaning his head against the mattress. "Actually, I could see us doing a lot of things in future."

At his words, your attention was immediately peaked as you let go of his hair and rearranged yourself on the cramped bed to lay on your stomach, arms wrapping around his neck as you silently implored him to continue on. He smiles softly at your antics.

"I could see us moving out of this dorm and into our own apartment where we could bribe Satoru and Shoko to become our very own moving company." You giggle to yourself at the thought. Good for you guys that your friends were so transparent with their wants. "Maybe in a few years down the line, we might decide to take the next step and at our high school reunion we would show off our matching rings." You murmur a few words of approval at his vision of the future. You could see it, stretching your left hand out in front of you as you envision a delicate ring resting upon your ring finger, a constant reminder of the love between you two. His gaze lands upon your outstretched hand and reaches up to intertwine his fingers with yours. Suguru starts rubbing circles around your ring finger as if testing how it would feel to be met with the coolness of a metal band around it instead of just the softness of your skin. Gently, he brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss against your interlaced hands that elicits a shy giggle from you.

"A few years more, we might even have kids." He says suddenly, looking off into the distance through your dorm window.

You raise an eyebrow at him, curious about where he was planning to go with his vision. "Oh yeah? How many?" You question. It wasn't like you were necessarily thinking about having kids when you were barely on the border of adulthood. However, if you ever were going to raise children with anyone, you think you would want it to be with Suguru.

"I think 2 would be nice. Both girls." It sounds like he's thought a lot about this, considering how resolute his response is. You choose not to comment on though, despite feeling your cheeks grow with warmth at the thought of him taking so much care to plan his future out with you down to a detail like this. Sensing that you were starting to get lost in thought, he gave your hand a slight nudge. "What do you think?"

"I think it'd be nice." You respond back, leaning further forward to rest your head upon his shoulder. Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Suguru gives your cheek a soft kiss before standing up from his position on the floor. Your hands are still interlocked as he hovers above you, pointing towards you on your bed. He always does this. Ever since you guys started dating and even before this, he always asked for permission to enter your space. He does this with 3 knocks on your door when he wants to come into your room, a shy tap on your shoulder when he wants to pull you closer to him and a point towards your bed whenever he wants to clamber in with you. You've told him before that he doesn't need to do this. To you, your space is basically his space at this point and he's always a welcomed guest. He only brushes off your comment with a simple smile and a brief kiss against your lips and continues on with this habit. Even now, with everything that had transpired, you think you would still let him in no matter how long it was since he came knocking.

Using your grip on him, you pull him down onto the mattress with you, shuffling back to the point where your back is against the wall as he rests his head against the pillow. Suguru opens his arms, inviting you into his embrace which you gladly accept with your head now resting against his chest. His arms encircle your figure as you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart lull you into a sense of security. In this room, between these papered walls, is a sanctuary that the two of you had carved out for each other with your bare hands. Though you had only known Suguru for 3 years and were only dating for 2 of those years, you don't think you could ever fall asleep or feel even as safe without hearing, feeling and sensing the steady drum of his heart right next to you.

You knew first-hand how draining the world of jujutsu and curses was, even more so for those who were first-grade or special-grade sorcerers, and so it always warmed your heart knowing that Suguru was comfortable enough to relax around you. You could physically see how his shoulders would sag with relief every time he saw you safe and sound and you let yourself believe that with every brush of his hair and every soft touch, you were pulling away all the tension and stress away from him. It wasn't enough as you would soon come to find out and maybe, it would have never been enough.

The memory is only temporary. Like all memories are really. Just a recollection of the past and its ensuing ghosts. Holding out for a second longer in this state of limbo between reality and your mind won't make the memory last longer. You know this, but it doesn't stop you from trying to squeeze your eyes shut just a bit tighter hoping that you might be able to grasp onto its tendrils for just a bit longer. Eventually, you give up on trying and get up from your curled-up position on the bed. The sheets are crumpled but there's only the indentation of you on its surface, the usual presence of the second one now long gone.

As you begin to undertake the arduous task of cleaning out your closet, it dawns on you how much stuff that was left behind by Suguru. Prior to this, you thought that it would be you and him spending a lazy afternoon here cleaning it out before you moved into your shared apartment, reminiscing on the glory of your high school days together. Hell, you even entertained the idea that Suguru might have ransacked the room for his belongings when he decided to up and leave that night. It would have spared you all this pain of dredging up old memories. You never thought that it would be you who was cleaning it up alone.

If this was a normal breakup, you would pack his things up into a tidy little box and ship it off to wherever he was in the world with a note wishing him the best for his future endeavours. Out of sight and out of mind, you would think to yourself as you did it. Or maybe if you were more the vengeful type, you would throw a match onto it and watch with a cheap can of beer from the convenience store, the ones that you would always complain tasted like nothing but foam, in hand as the flames burned away remnants of the past. You could even picture Shoko taking a sip with you as you two both sat in silence. But you could never do that. No matter how badly you wanted to, even if it was a small mercy you could have afforded yourself.

A lot of this would be easier if you would dare to take that more permanent step of trying to erase him from your life. It would be a lot easier if you could understand why he chose to do this, breaking up with you days before he went to that village. You thought you two were happy, at least on your end you were. You think about what you've heard about how he ended things with Satoru. Why did he have to be so good with you until the end? When you broke down crying on that day, he turned around in his step and sat with you on a bench while you melted into a blubbering mess. He didn't need to do that. He wasn't your boyfriend anymore. He wasn't even your friend anymore with how he worded his goodbye. "It's better for us if we don't talk after this." was what he said. Yet, despite all of that, he still remained with you, rubbing soothing circles on your back whilst you sobbed against his chest. The next thing you remember from that day was waking up in your bed, eyes red and swollen, a dry throat and tucked into your bed with a glass of water on your nightstand.

It's not like you haven't tried to be angry at him. You think back to a few days ago when you tried to destroy some of the origami cranes that Suguru folded for you and left on your desk. According to Shoko, she said that stuff like that could be "cathartic for the soul." though you're pretty sure she stole that quote from a poster advertising a rage room. When you asked him why he did that late one night, he was as cryptic as ever, only sending you a soft smile as he started to fold another one right after finishing the first. You later found out from Satoru that he was planning to fold a thousand of them as he wanted to wish for your happiness and safety, he only got to about 20 before he left. It only took ripping up the first one for you to immediately regret your actions. Whatever anger there was in you dissipated the second you saw the shredded and butchered remains of the crane in your hands. Apparently, when Satoru and Shoko came to check in on you, it was already sunrise and you were still sitting there at your desk, trying to glue together whatever was left of the paper at that point.

All emotions felt manufactured to you when it came to Suguru. If you couldn't be angry at him, then you thought that you could be annoyed but that was a failure as well when you realised that it was a fault of your own that you didn't speak up when you had the chance to voice your thoughts to him. Regret wasn't an option as well because if anyone would ask if you regret meeting Suguru then your answer would be a resounding no. You wouldn't trade your time with him for anything. Trying to be happy could never work when you felt like there was a gaping, empty hole in your chest from where someone had ripped out the Suguru-shaped piece that managed to worm its way into there. Every time you put on a smile, it's like a failed imitation of what one pictures a smile to be, making you out to be a fraud amongst the sea of people who were still intact.

In all honesty, all your problems would be solved if you hated Suguru Geto. Then, just maybe, there was a sliver of a chance that you wouldn't feel burdened by all this pain and yearning for what once was and what could have been. It would be easier if he was worse, but that could never be that because that wasn't who he was. He was someone who cared for those around him with every beat of his bleeding heart, too much if you asked those close to him to the point where he would try to shoulder the weight of their world tenfold. Just like how there could not be worse things about him, you could never hate Geto Suguru despite everything.

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (2)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: It's 2014. Tilly fills up the position temporarily as Red Bull's Communication Liaison and meets the man she spoke to all those years ago in Dubai... only for her to realize that he's her best friend's Team Principal. Lewis Hamilton is more than amused with her situation, if anything.

Content warning: Age gap, mentions of an absence of a father figure, brief use of explicit language, mentions of nepotism, discussion of mental health and burnouts. Platonic!Lewis Hamilton content, Platonic!Daniel Ricciardo content. Fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). One character is fictional but came from a family (Ford family). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: This is actually my demon time. I took a break from posting too much Danny Ric even if I love him sm (this fic needs attention a little bit). Should I make him go feral and chaotic again? I dunno. But anyways, here's for the Toto stans. Please tell me what you think in many ways - reblog and reply even! Enjoy xx

ii. tilly marie wants to go to hell

Tilly Marie. 

That is the name that hides everything that relates to my life and purpose. Truthfully, everyone knows who I am, but I act like a stranger to everyone who works in the location during the races. Everyone has heard of my name but never really knew what I look like. Of course, they would know who I am. I’m sharing my surname with the man who partially owned three teams— all through his shares. 

Julius Hearth is a billionaire who invested much more in motorsport than he should have in his racing career. Instead of becoming a professional driver, he remains a billionaire, relatively close to creating a monopoly in the racing industry. 

A greedy man, they call him. He dislikes the idea of being unable to control his businesses. He could have sold his shares before, yet he keeps a tight grip over each of his holdings and keeps his position in each team as an executive. He’s not even the one at the race right now. He has his daughter act on his behalf and play his part in keeping his teams popular. 

The surname Hearth is practically engraved in each team’s zones. I hate it. Wherever I go, even if I hadn’t attended a grand prix for a while now, eyes would settle on me. Everyone knows my name. I hate it. It should have been Ford instead, maybe I would have allowed it.

And so I stuck with Tilly Marie. Tilly Hearth catches the eyes of everyone in the racing industry. Tilly Marie is just a woman with access to three zones and additional pit access from her friend. Tilly Hearth is for business— for handling problems and solutions in media outlets and communications.

Now that I think of it, I remember considering quitting my job before I was even told to attend the British GP. Have you ever been so exhausted from doing what you love? Or is that something not really something you desire?

I enjoy writing fashion and design articles for everyone’s entertainment. But to be told you’ll be given a better angle on the following magazine issues and still drooling after that promise? Now that’s just an embarrassment. 

Everyone I’m close to knows how badly I am treated at the company. Their sympathy came with advice to leave the company. Yet, despite the gratitude that I felt, I refuse to resign. I have faith in my career. They’ll give me a better angle soon enough. Or not.

One of the many people who told me to quit is here standing behind the gate. His tightly braided hair is covered with a branded cap. His chest is covered in a white polo. He stands there with a cheeky grin as he holds his arms out. Lewis Hamilton never failed to make me smile.

He engulfs me with a tight embrace and lifts me slightly in joy. We have not even exchanged words yet, but I am already smiling widely. 

“Oh, Tilly, I thought you wouldn't come!” Lewis exclaims once that he puts me down. I straighten my slightly wrinkled skirt and look at him with a questioning frown. “You’re going to watch me win in person this time!” 

“You act like I don’t see you almost every month,” I scoff, shaking my head at his pout.

“You haven’t attended any of my races for almost six years,” he points out, referring to his championship when he was in McLaren. That’s how we met. My father was bored and had decided to buy a part of McLaren, Lewis’ first team. I hung around him more often during the past few seasons while I consulted with my father’s other teams - Scuderia Ferrari and Red Bull. Lewis values our friendship more than his team, as we remained friends after he departed from McLaren. 

I was going to protest and defend myself, but he cut me off before I could even talk. “You were working hard at Vogue, I know,” he rolls his eyes before he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as we walk down the Mercedes zone. He still has an assistant with him, and she’s nice enough to ensure that Lewis isn’t doing something stupid like getting our photos taken by paps while his arm is around me. I can see the headlines we’ll make if they see me.

Tilly Hearth’s Comeback Spiced Up by Forbidden Romance as She Snuggles with Mercedes Driver

The Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous: Lewis Hamilton Seen Cozying Up with the Hearth Group Heiress

He continues, “I love you. You know that, right?” 

I nod as he playfully scolds me, “Then why aren’t you listening to me? To your three sisters, even? You’re writing a smaller piece in a magazine for how long? Six years? Why don’t you quit and find a better opportunity?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” I frown, slightly shoving him away while his arm remains wrapped around me. I try kicking him in the leg, but he quickly avoids my attack as he laughs. People that walked past scowl at us. “I knew I should’ve stayed on the Red Bull pit.” 

“In my year of winning? At the British GP?” He scoffs haughtily. “You wound me, Tilly Marie.”

“And while I’m against the idea of staying in your paddock, I’m glad we can agree on calling me by that name so I'm staying because I love you that much,” I grin, kissing him on the cheek as we arrive at the Mercedes hospitality. 

Indeed, I haven’t attended a race for a while now. Putting more time into my job would give me a way to a promotion or an opportunity to publish a meaningful piece in the magazine. But as years go on, I’m slowly backing away from that optimism. So being in this event… yeah, I think I’ll choose this lifestyle once more over that god-awful thing I call a career. 

Still, why haven’t I quit yet? I have little faith in them. I might as well resign. But this advice came from other people. It didn’t come from me. They cannot change my mind, and I wish I’m not this stubborn and stupid. I wish Lewis would bang my head against the wall to get me to quit. 

I know that I have more options if I quit. But even then, I know my options will come straight from my surname and father. Nepotism follows me wherever I go; even if it’s inevitable, I try to control the fire before it spreads. I know that using my name will not help me learn more. 

Even Lewis knows how much it’ll affect my career in a different industry. One that isn’t racing. It’s bad enough that everyone knows me by name, but to use it proudly? Yeah no. Lewis keeps me humbled by calling me Tilly Marie. I love him because of that. 

All of those thoughts have left me alone when I hear a voice ring out behind the two of us. One that calls for Lewis, which has my friend turning around. Out of curiosity and instinct, I immediately turned around to see who called for him. 

Would it be a shame to admit that the man you met eight years ago looked as handsome as before? No. Maybe not. 

My eyes respectfully move from his attractive face down to the polo that he’s wearing. Slight chest hair peeking out from the unbuttoned collars as my eyes finally look at the title on his chest. 

Team Principal

Mercedes AMG Petronas

While it’s not something to be ashamed of, admitting that the older man is attractive will cause bloodshed. One that would begin with Lewis. 

I must admit the man in front of me makes me nervous now that I have grown older. My legs will turn jelly if I hear his accent again. 

“Ah, you have a guest,” the older man smiles at me almost charmingly. 

My legs didn’t turn into jelly. But I wish I had gone to hell earlier than expected because of the heat I can feel on my face. All because of this man. 

Lewis doesn’t catch the reddening of my cheeks. Instead, he nudges me with a grin, saying, “Of course I have. You know how I want people to watch me win.”

“I like that confidence,” the man chuckles, probably still staring at me while my eyes remain on the floor. 

Lewis nudges me again, leaving me to clutch the strap of the bag that nearly fell off my shoulder. I glare at him, and he doesn’t see it as he introduces me, “Tils! This is Toto Wolff. He’s the Mercedes team principal. Toto, this is Tilly Marie. She’s a friend.” 

I can’t longer avoid his eyes as I look up at his dark eyes. I have forgotten how to speak briefly before I clear my throat and greet the man, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wolff.” 

His stare isn’t intimidating. That’s what I think, but my body says otherwise. Suddenly, the hospitality feels 30 degrees celsius hotter because of his look. 

But he doesn’t say anything about my obvious situation, and with Lewis not saying anything, I assume he doesn’t notice. The team principal then extends his hand in my direction as his accent leaves a tingling sensation in my ears with the words, “It’s lovely to meet you. Miss…?” 

Oh um. Shit. 

Suddenly the roller coaster in my stomach fades as I stammer, “Hearth. Tilly. Tilly Marie.” I immediately reach for his hand to shake as I shudder slightly. God, those hands are cold. I still shake his hand like a fan excited to meet her idol. Lewis, god loves him, has immediately put a stop to it by putting an arm on my side. 

Not realizing I'm still holding his hand, I immediately pull away and offer Toto a sheepish smile and apology. I’m 28, turning 29. I’m not 18. I’m still acting like a child. 

But my internal dialogue is interrupted by a hum coming out from Toto. He watches me move in one place, assumingely unable to reply for a moment. He's thinking of something and it's unnerving.

The silence doesn’t last long as he finally asks, “Are you Julius Hearth’s relative, by any chance? You look a bit like him.” 

I immediately answer, my voice slightly cracking, saying, “Yes. Yes. I’m the eldest daughter.” 

Knowing my family history, Lewis winces at the title I used to describe myself. Even he knows that this is a sore spot for me.

“Ah,” Toto hums in understanding, nodding at the response while he looks around. It seems our surroundings don't interest him, all while people around us are beginning to whisper at the drop of my name and relationship with a prominent figure in the racing business. 

Nevertheless, he ignores the whispering and instead tells me, “It’s surprising to see you here, Miss Hearth—“ 

“Just call me Tilly,” I immediately interrupted him with the insistence of a worried person. “Tilly works just fine.” 

He doesn’t blink at it, even if I can tell he has a question or so at my insistence. He continues regardless, “Well, Tilly, it’s surprising to see you here, in a rival team’s hospitality.” 

I only laugh at that. I laugh at him like he’s an idiot. Or the other way around. He’s calling me an imbecile in his head now, I tell myself as I watch his brows wrinkle slightly.

I tell him, “I’m here as a friend of your driver, Mr. Wolff. And I can hardly be biased about teams seeing as Julius purchased some shares from almost each. There are no playing favourites in my book.” 

“Is that right?” He asks with amusement in his voice. 

“I like to play fair,” I shrug and offer him a grin, “besides, I’m not as good at interpreting races as he is. I’m only here to keep their head checked before they can lash out in front of the cameras.” 

He likes that response even though I mentioned I have limited motorsport knowledge. He chuckles again, nodding in my direction and at Lewis, who I have almost forgotten is with me. 

He doesn’t say anything to me anymore and tells Lewis, “Remember your interview.” 

“Yes, sir,” Lewis nods at him. 

Toto looks at me again and suggests, “Miss Tilly, you should be in our zone more often.” 

For once, my face hasn’t flushed. I offer him a grateful smile and joke, “It’s a bad idea to give me such a privilege. I suppose you’ll see more of me then, Mr. Wolff.” 

“Call me Toto, liebling,” Toto tells me with a wink, “besides, I won’t complain if I see you here— I might as well snatch you up from Red Bull and McLaren, hm? Or is Ferrari also a competition I have to fight for?” 

He turns around and leaves the premise, walking away from us with a big smile while Lewis and I remain silent. 

There’s a scoff that leaves Lewis’ mouth. I watch him shake his head and ask, “What? Did I do something?” 

“No, no, love,” Lewis answers, chuckling in disbelief as he says, “I can’t believe I just watched my boss hit on my best friend.” 

“Who says you’re my best friend? Sylv, Steve and Aims are my best friends,” I scoff. 

“Stevie, Sylvie and Aimee are your sisters, love. There’s a big difference–whatever, you were just flirting with my boss!” He exclaims, making other people look at us at the abrupt loudness.

I wish I had gone to hell earlier.

[lilythdaemon]

Great time, great monkey

Ok, I already lost this post twice while I was writing it. BUT THIRD TIME IS A CHARM. (no pun intended)

Finished watching Lupin Zero. Holy fuck what a great experience, and I'm gonna share some thoughts about the last three episodes. SPOILERS, of course. Here we go:

EP 4

Just a love note for Lupin shenanigans.

Jigen and Lupin start a fight bc Jigen don't want Lupin to put his life at risk, incredible. Shippers absolutely fucking died when they started to fight like a newly married couple.

In a more serious note, such a goofy plot with the right touch of political commentary. Just chef kiss content. I love seeing how the relationship between those 2 has grown in a short amount of time, the team behind it definitely nailed it.

EP 5

Poor baby monkey boy. He did nothing wrong. He just wanted to give the necklace to his first love and has massacreated by a grown man out of nowhere. Poor, poor baby.

I know that this ep was the beginning of the end, but I just found the passing a little weird. Idk.

AND ALSO, MY BIGGEST PROBLEM WITH THE FINALE. ok, its not a problem, it's just bc it got me confused.

Who the fuck is Gaucho a reference for?

Bc, Gaucho (or at least that is how the wiki shows his name) in portuguese, specifically in Brazil, is how u call someone who is from a specific state, Rio Grande do Sul. And it made me think that maybe he was a south american. AND THEN, I entered a rabbit whole bc I started to noticed that the characters kind resembles Che Guevara, not just in personality but also in looks. And if it somehow, the team behind really is trying to reference him...good, I guess, really weird to reference a dictator, but who am I to say anything else.

EP 6

What a banger of a finale. The action was AMAZING. It made me compare it so much to part 6 action, and reafarm my hate for part 6, great:3

Lupin standing up for what he wants to become versus what his family wants for him, so cute. Little monkey is growing and becaming Big monkey man. He and Jigen, just agreaing to do shit all over the world for the sake of excitment and having fun, like...AAAAAAHHH.

HE USED THE JACKET, IT LOOKS SO BIG FOR HIM! AAHHH.

The final confict was great, Gaucho killing himself insted of letting Lupin shot him...kind of a killer move:3 (PUN INTENDED).

But when Yoko decided that she coulnd't keep on living without the first person who saved her. Heartbroken. Also, knowing that Lupin's first love killed herself for another man is such a tragic backstory for him. I kind would like to this event being referenced in other pieces of Lupin media, like how it effected his view on romantic pursue, etc. (TMS FOR FUCKING GODS SAKE, I DONT WANT A CONTINUATION, I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO CONTINUE A LUPIN STORY, PART 6 I'M TALINK ABOUT U)

Overall, really enjoy it. Will not be watching the new content streaming on amazon bc it looks ugly as fuck, and I hope we get more passion projects like this in the future:3

[agalere]

going to an event together [ for tyki~ ]

non-sexual forms of intimacy.

          It was charming, grand, those of Aristocrats with the purest of pedigrees being the only ones to grace such events. The homely people would only stare hoping to catch a glimpse from well-lit windows. To hope for a taste of what ifs, to quench curiosity. So why were they the ones peering through when he a Noble who would be greeted with respect and admiration had rather rush away from such brightness.

          The clothes he wore had even matched the state of boorish behavior. Shirt stained, wrinkled and torn, pants not fairing any better with boots that should have been thrown away adorning him. Refined locks were a tangled mess, hurriedly being tied into a loose ponytail. A travesty really, as he stood next to her. A being that might dull her brightness if she hadn’t surpassed such ordinary things.

          Then there came the softest touch being brought against her arm pulling her away from glamour and into the dampness of the town. But if she was willing, he would have pulled her into a different light (not as bright as the former) to a small festival adorned with vendors of food, and souvenirs. No body was stiff they all laughed like old friends, drank excessively and danced. A contrast to before. When even using the wrong fork would be scandalous. A smile not captivated by mirth, but sincerity was the only thing perceived. His hand had trailed down her arm to take hold of her hand. The act almost unnoticed by him, too eager to entertain the nearest vendor as he pulled her along.

                    “This way. This is much better than a stuffy event.” Voice was almost lost under the heaviness of instruments being played.

[finnofamerica]

What to Expect When You're Expecting - Dr. Alan Grant x Reader || Fluff

Summary: You tell Alan that you're expecting a baby, shortly after the deadly events of Jurassic Park 1993 take place.

Word Count: 811

Date Posted: 08.25.2022

TW: Mentions of nausea and sickness, pregnancy, and first aid to wounds.

Note: This is pretty short, it's also my first time writing for Jurassic Park. Admittedly I do tend to struggle when following the direct plot of a movie or show. If this does not meet your expectations, I truly apologize and would love another request if you'll take a chance on me 💚

|| Masterlist || Request Here || Fandoms/ Characters || Req by Anon

The island was beautiful when you arrived, though the landing was a bit rough. You gripped Alan’s hand through the turbulence. You’d been nauseous all week, and the rocking of the helicopter was certainly not helping. 

You were a paleobotanist team with your sister, working with the highly respected Alan Grant. That’s how you met, though you were on boarded late. Turns out that it does well to finish college first. You were easily 8 years younger than Dr. Grant, but that didn’t stop him from falling for your energy and passion anyway. In fact your presumed innocence was one of the things that drew him to you, all the things about the world that you could learn from him. Three years together and you were affianced. Grant’s proposal was simple, and he had your engagement ring carved out of bone. 

You wondered slightly how you’d ended up here, on dinosaur island - Jurassic Park as John Hammond called it. It was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, and you doubted Alan would go with out you. 

“You okay, Y/n?” Alan asked you as he helped you from the helicopter. 

“Yeah, just a little motion sick, I’ll be okay.” You affirmed, though you knew the truth. You’d been sick every morning for the past week, and the test you took while Alan and Ellie were talking to Hammond proved what you’d already suspected. You were pregnant with Alan’s baby. Alan gave you a suspect look, but let you be. 

When you came across the sick triceratops, just like Ellie, you couldn’t resist your investigation. Wanting to stay behind and figure out the source of the sickness. 

“Wait, Alan,” You tugged on his shirt, pulling him aside, “Before you continue with the tour. I’m -“ 

You took a deep breath. 

“What is it?” Alan caressed your cheek. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted. You weren’t sure how Alan was going to take it, as far as you know he never wanted kids. His face was expressionless. 

“That is unexpected,” He nodded, “Okay. Stay with Ellie. We’ll talk more when I get back okay?” 

You took a deep breath again, watching him rejoin Dr. Malcolm and the tour group. 

“What happened there?” Ellie asked, noticing the shift in your attitude when you joined her. 

“It’s nothing, Ellie,” You forced a smile, “Just not fond of separating is all.” 

You were safely back at the compound when the shit hit the fan. A t-rex had escaped its paddock and god knows what else. Immediately you panicked. 

“Alan is still out there, Ellie,” You cried, crocodile tears pouring down your face, “I need to go find him, I can’t let my baby grow up without a father.” 

“You’re pregnant!” Ellie gasped. “You’re staying here. You first priority is the safety of your baby, stay here.” 

You nodded. Though you were never the type to sit around. You were perpetually pacing until your sister came back, empty handed. John was off hit wits worried for his grand children. 

“Ian, what happened to my fiancé?” You begged of him. 

“He went to save the kids, before I got knocked out. We haven’t found any evidence that he or the children are hurt.” Ian assured as you went about tending to his wounds. 

“It’s a good thing I went through those first aid certification courses. You never know what’ll happen in a dig site.” You mused to yourself, trying to take your mind off your worries. 

“I’m sure Dr. Grant will be fine.” 

You hated waiting, not being able to do much to help aside from tending to wounds. They’d moved the group to an emergency bunker, making you feel more useless to the situation by the minute. When you weren’t tending to Ian you were rubbing your sick belly, or throwing up in the nearest receptacle. You were sick with your baby, sick from the stress you were under, and most importantly sick from the worry about the love of your life and your sister who’d gone off again to save the day. 

You cheered to yourself as they managed to get everything back online. Soon enough, you, John Hammond, and Ian were in a jeep heading to rescue the rest of your surviving party to be airlifted the fuck out of dodge. You embraced Alan fully once he joined you in the jeep, sobbing in relief. 

“I’d thought I’d lost you, Alan. I thought I’d never get to see you again,” You sobbed holding on to him. He held you equally tightly, soothing your fears. 

“I wouldn’t leave you to raise our baby on your own,” He whispered kissing your forehead. You sobbed harder. 

“You changed your mind?” 

“My dear, my mind was made up the moment you told me,” He rubbed your back, “I was shocked is all and I’ve had my eyes opened to the possibilities.” 

Tags: None

[crash-cinematic-universe]

beautiful

pairing: adrian chase/reader

summary: adrian chase is too good for this world, and you intend to let him know it

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort

notes: yes, lords and ladies, I finally finished writing an actual fic after a 3 million year long, writer’s-block inspired hiatus. i hope you enjoy it. and I hope that i can continue to do more in the future. I appreciate those of you who stuck around even though I was making 0 content 100% of the time. i love you all dearly and i pray that this writer’s block stays away. i might be a little rusty but once i get back into my groove the quality will improve probably

For most of your life, you were never considered particularly desirable. There aren’t a lot of lovable traits about a murderous anti-hero that spends their nights perched on street corners waiting for any signs of conflict. You were almost always injured, constantly littered with open wounds and deep purple bruises. Very few people find being constantly caked in blood and dirt an attractive trait, and when coupled with your aversion to empathy, it became clear that you weren’t exactly a catch. You didn’t care; you had bigger fish to fry. You’d much rather be turning criminals inside out than be stuck in a relationship, platonic or otherwise. 

Then, after a twisted chain of events, you found yourself here, in the middle of a black ops team with a bunch of strangers that irritated you endlessly. Harcourt and Murn are so emotionally stunted any attempt at socializing with them would probably yield worse results than trying to make out with a brick wall. Chris and Economos always manage to be on the opposite sides of a very, very annoying spectrum. Adebayo is… pretty cool, actually. She’s always nice to you, even when you’re not very nice back. However, none of them hold a candle to the Vigilante himself, Adrian Chase. 

Adrian is beautiful. Like a whirlwind of endearing violence and shitty puns, you found yourself being tangled in his life. He’s hyperactive and talkative— every time he starts one of his long-winded tangents, you worry he’ll die of suffocation. The entire team finds him near insufferable, and they make it painfully obvious that they dislike him. He tries his best to hide it, but you know it hurts his feelings. Maybe that’s why you’re so drawn to him, the unfamiliar sense of empathy (or is it pity?) luring you in like a gnat to a lantern. Instead of a fatal shock, you’re met with a paralyzing warmth (though, it could be argued that there is warmth to be found in lethal electricity).

As wonderfully kind, passionate, and caring Adrian is, there’s also something so profoundly sad about him. A grand sense of hurt lies within those glittering puppy-dog eyes, and it kills you to see it grow as the days go by. While he may deny that he has “regular people feelings” the excuse falls flat every time you catch his gaze during a team meeting. Still, he usually kept his composure and somehow managed to shake it off by the end of the day.

So, when you hear muffled crying coming from the back of the van, you’re inclined to investigate. Your movements are careful and calculated as you approach the van as quietly as possible. A part of you knows who’s inside, and you’d hate to humiliate him further by attracting attention from the rest of the team. Softly, you knock on the metal door.

The sound of hasty shuffling and quiet ‘fuck!’ comes through the barrier as the van door swings open. You’re unsurprised to see Adrian standing above you, face flushed and eyes red. An obviously forced smile is plastered on his face as he greets you.

“Oh, hey!” 

“Hey…” you trail off, unsure on how to approach the situation. “Whatcha doin’ back there?”

“Oh, I was just…” Adrian stands there, eyes frantic as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “...smoking weed,”

“What? Adrian, you hate weed. You threatened to shoot multiple people for possession alone,”

“I had a change of heart,” he defended. “Now my favorite hobby is blazing it. I love sitting in the back of our van and chasing the dragon,” his words come out awkward and unsteady.

“You do realize that the phrase ‘chasing the dragon’ refers to heroin, right?” Adrian’s eyes widen. Heroin is much more illegal than weed. Before he had a chance to deepen the hole he dug himself into any further, you cut in.

“Adrian, are you doing okay?” He froze. The faux-grin on his face faltered, and his body tensed. A small twang shot through your heart as you realized he was struggling to maintain his composure. He doesn’t look you in the eyes. He can’t, because he knows if he does, you’re going to see right through him. Somehow, you always seemed to cut through his façade with a single glance. 

“For sure! I’m doing totally awesome. I’m 100% fine,” His voice trembled. You didn’t buy it. He didn’t buy it either. Adrian’s hands were balled up into tight fists, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indentations on the meaty part of his palms. 

You step forward, gently guiding Adrian further back into the van before shutting the door. The isolation seemed to sooth his nerves a bit, but he was still clinging to his happy façade. The two of you sat there in silence for a minute, and you spent the seconds studying his face. He’s written with anguish and hurt, and the fact that he’s trying so hard to hide it feels like a punch to the gut. 

“Adrian,” You had to choose your words carefully. Adrian didn’t experience emotions in the same way that most people do, so you had to ensure you wouldn’t scare him off or upset him further. Instead of facing the problem head-on, you decided to let him come to you.

Nonchalantly, you leaned back against the van wall, letting your shoulder brush against his. “How was your day?”

Adrian seemed surprised by the question, but he answered it nonetheless. “It was okay. I’m still sore from getting tossed around like a ragdoll by that gorilla,”

“God, that sucked,” You chuckled. “I always liked Charlie as a kid. I never thought he would betray me like this,”

Adrian paused, his eyes flitting from your face to the floor. “Pretty cool to see Economos with the chainsaw, wasn’t it?” 

“Eh,” you shrugged. “It was okay, I guess. It was kind of overkill— and you totally called the whole ‘chainsaw kill’ thing.” Adrian seemed shocked to hear your answer, but judging by the pleased look that flashes across his face, he isn’t upset. 

“Peacemaker didn’t think so,” He sighed, and that sullen look returned. “I think he finds me annoying. Harcourt, too. Oh, and definitely Murn and John. Adebayo, maybe…” With a sharp inhale, he holds his breath for a moment. You struggle to meet his gaze as he turns away from you, letting his shoulders slump and his head hang. “The whole team hates me, I think,” Adrian’s voice was thick with tears. 

“Adrian, they don’t hate you,” You cooed, gently running your fingers up and down his spine. “They’re all just… emotionally stunted and really mean,”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” he sobbed openly, hastily moving to bury his face in your shoulder. The sudden burst takes you by surprise, but still, you pulled him close and carded your fingers through his hair in an attempt to give him any and all comfort possible. “I tried so hard to make friends. I tried so hard to—to make myself more… appealing. For my entire life, I always existed as some awkward, scrawny nerd that embarrassed his older brother. I just wanted to have a real group of friends for once,”

“I can see everything they do, y’know. Sometimes it’s easier to play dumb and pretend like I don’t notice that they think it’s a burden to be paired with me on stakeouts. The rock-paper-scissors games, the coin tosses, the drawn straws; they’re all competing and being near me is the punishment. I know they think I’m crazy—that I’m some fucking freak that spends his time following Peacemaker around like a lost puppy. I guess they’re right, though. Gut always told me that I was like a parasite he couldn’t ever manage to shake off,” He cut himself off with a humorless laugh.

“No, no, Adrian, please don’t say that. You’re not a parasite. You’re a great teammate and a better friend,” Adrian was growing more and more overwhelmed by the minute, and you had no idea how to help him. “We don’t deserve you,” 

Adrian was trembling violently, his body wracked with sobs. He’d been holding everything in for an incredibly long time, and now it came rushing out all at once. You can tell this is probably the most kindness he’s received in a while.  You silently removed his glasses and took his face in your hands, swiping your thumbs under his eyes and wiping away the tear tracks staining his face. His alabaster skin was flushed a soft red and his eyelashes were shimmering with tears. He was beautiful. For some reason, you didn’t realize it until this moment, but regardless, it’s true. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adrian. Everyone else is just fucking mean,” You brushed his hair out of his face. “You deserve better friends than them. You deserve to surround yourself with people who make you feel loved and accepted as you are, not a group of near-strangers who make you try to force yourself into a box that’s palatable for them,”

“Who do I have if I don’t have them?” He looks up at you expectantly, desperately, and you respond without really thinking.

“You have me,” 

“I do?” Adrian gazes into your eyes in astonishment. 

“Always,” A small smile plays on his lips, a sharp contrast from the fake one that had donned his perfect face twenty minutes prior. Quickly, you place his glasses back on his face and allow him to curl around your abdomen comfortably. “I’m always here for you, Adrian. Rain or shine, always feel free to hunt me down if you need me. It’s not healthy to keep all of your emotions bottled up,”

“Why?” His question stunned you. A thick silence hung over you as you pondered your response.

“Because… you’re one of the only people in the world that can make life bearable. At least, to me. And I would hate for someone so wonderful to have to live with the shit you have to,” A shiver runs down Adrian’s spine. “You’re passionate and dedicated, you’re good at your job, you somehow always manage to make me laugh—it’s almost scary how good of a friend you are. Everything you do is done with good intentions, and you’ve got a good heart. You deserve the world, Adrian, and I’m willing to give it to you,”

Adrian is silent. He’s looking at you inquisitively, as if he’s trying to solve a math problem in his head. With his dark eyebrows furrowed, he stares. Finally, after a solid two minutes had passed in dead silence, Adrian’s eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape, as if he’d come to some grand realization—

“I’m in love with you,”

Oh. 

Oh.

“What?” 

“I’m in love with you,” Adrian repeats. “I have been for a while, I think. It just took me a long time to realize. Originally, I just thought you were a really, really good friend, but now I realize that most people don’t feel this way about their friends,”

“Adrian…” 

“I don’t want the world,” he cut in, echoing your words from before. “I only want you, if you’ll have me, of course,”

A smirk plays on your lips as your brain begins to catch up with the rest of your body. “Why?”

Adrian shifts closer to you, his once tear-filled eyes now wide with adoration and admiration. “Because you’re the only person in the world who makes my life worth living,” With that, you take his face in your hands once again. Softly, you press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you study his face once again, and only one word comes to mind: beautiful. 

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[glxssylaufey]

Mischief Maker - Chapter 2

a/n: i’m sorry this is a bit longer than usual ahh! i also apologize if the writing is a little bad or if there’s any mistakes, i tried my best :) also i apologize if you’re not on the taglist, it didn’t let me tag some of you. anyways, enjoy!

summary: loki x reader ; The time has come to attend Stark’s party. How will the reader handle Loki’s mischief?

word count: 5,156

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of bullying, language, slightly spicy hehe

taglist: @alex-sulli @delightfulheartdream @mademoiselledubois @destructivebliss @kingtwhiddleston @madcrazy50 @rachel-voychuk

It was no secret that Tony Stark loved to make a grand entrance to everything he does. This morning was no exception. The time was around 8:15 when Tony practically kicked your door down to rip your blinds open. Sometimes you almost felt as if he was just another father figure in your life.

“Rise and shine!” he announced, forcing sunlight into your room. “We have a big day today, Y/N, c’mon!” he spoke as he continued to shake you awake. You lazily blinked open your eyes, groaning when Tony ripped your blankets from you. You already knew what he was here for.

“Alright, whatcha got for me?” Tony asked as he looked for the paintings he had requested the night before. You sighed.

“A headache, that’s what I have for you.” you replied, shoving your face back into your pillow.

“No, you’re not allowed to have a headache.” he simply stated. “Let me guess, you don’t have any paintings picked out?” You sat up on your bed, rolling your eyes when you saw Tony standing in the middle of your room with his arms crossed like a child.

“I can pick some out in literally five minutes, Tony, just let me wake up.” you said waving your hand at him, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer.

“Yeah? Well make it quick, I don’t have all day.” he argued, walking towards your door. “By the way, breakfast is ready.” Tony said in a sing-song voice before leaving your room. You simply hummed in response, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Today was going to be difficult, you already knew. Even though you were agreeing to spend your time with bidding paintings at the party, you still had your heart set on sneaking Loki in somehow. You were just stumped on how you would get that to happen.

~

After a morning of much needed breakfast, you got ready to face the day. Tony had asked both you and Natasha to go to the store to pick up a long list of supplies for the party. So there you stood, scanning the store’s large selection of alcohol bottles, not knowing which one Tony would want.

“What does he have on the list?” you ask, turning to Nat. She quickly scanned through the dramatically large catalog and shrugged.

“Just whatever looks good, I guess.” she replied before looking back to the shelves. Without another word, Natasha settled for three huge bottles of vodka. You don’t argue, seeing as you were just as clueless as to what Tony would want. “So tell me, what’s been going on with you?” she asks suddenly. You both proceeded to explore the store for whatever else the list requested.

“Oh, you know.” you paused. “The usual.” What ‘the usual’ was, you had no idea. Your life hasn’t exactly been normal since Thor had brought Loki into the Avengers Tower.

“Like what, painting pretty pictures and babysitting gods?” Nat laughed, plopping a case of Coca-Cola into the shopping cart. You were about to protest against her teasing when you realized that truly was what you have been doing for the past two days.

“Yeah, pretty much.” you admitted with a sigh. Natasha chuckled, before a moment of silence.

“How’s Loki?” she asked suddenly. The question made you tense up. It wasn’t that you hated talking about Loki, just something about him made your mind go blank.

“He’s fine.” you replied plainly. You then noticed Nat raise an eyebrow at you as if she knew that you were hiding something. Which she did, of course. You opted to continue, not seeing a point in lying to your friend or yourself. “He’s not as awful as everyone claims him to be. I think he’s just misunderstood.” you persuaded. Natasha nodded, listening intently.

“What makes you think that?” she questioned. That’s when you realized Natasha only knew the Loki that had invaded New York city, much like everyone else. She only saw the villain of the story and not the god that you saw up on the hill. That’s when you began to pour your heart out.

“Yesterday when I took him outside, I saw a side of him that I don’t think anyone else has seen before. He told me stories about Asgard and it sounded like so much more than just some ancient legend. It seemed so normal. He seemed so normal.” you explained, almost passionately. “I don’t know, Nat. I think he’s actually really sweet.” you admitted. Natasha’s eyes went wide.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you like him!” she gasped. Your heart practically stopped at her accusation. There’s no way that you had feelings for the God of Mischief.

“Oh my- absolutely not!” you stammered. “I’m just simply being kind!” you insisted. You could feel your face burning, undoubtedly displaying your embarrassment.

“Y/N, you cannot like Loki, that’s insane!” Nat declared. You could practically feel the stares from the other people in the store, considering how loud the two of you were being.

“I just said I don’t!” you corrected her.

“But you most certainly are lying!” Natasha accused, halting the shopping cart.

“I’m not.”

“Say that to me with a straight face then.”

“Nat, PUSH. THE. CART.”

“HA! I knew it!”

You both continued to bicker and squabble for the rest of the shopping trip. It wasn’t until you and Natasha reached the checkout line that the childlike arguing returned back to its normal conversational tone.

“Oh god, what will Tony think?” Natasha said with a gasp. You groaned, covering your face with your hands. The longer you listened to her babble on about Loki, the more you realized she could be right. You admit, Loki was a fairly attractive person. Plus his gentlemanly charm didn’t help your case much. Oh, who were you kidding? Loki was downright gorgeous and you knew it. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you knew that you were slowly catching feelings for the god.

“Tony can’t know, he’d have a fit.” you spoke almost in a whisper, as if Tony was listening to your conversation.

“Oh, so you admit it? You do have a crush on Loki?” Natasha asked eagerly.

“N-no! Well, yes, but you can’t say a word about it!” you pleaded almost in disbelief at what you had just admitted. You had a crush on the almighty Loki and there was no denying it. Natasha simply giggled like a school girl.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” she assured you. Except the way she continued to smile about it the whole car ride home showed that she was going to have a difficult time keeping your secret.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Romanoff, nobody can know!” you suddenly said as she drove the two of you back to the Avengers Tower.

“I’m sorry, I just have to say it.” she started. You shook your head, knowing this conversation wouldn’t end anytime soon. “You should try to make a move tonight.” she suggested, giving you a smug smirk.

“Oh c’mon, you know he’s not allowed at the party.” you claimed. “But I have been thinking about ways to sneak him in tonight.” Natasha mocked a gasp.

“Y/N, how scandalous of you.” she poked fun at you, causing you to giggle. “I must say though, I think you can absolutely do better.” she suddenly stated, making your jaw drop slightly.

“What do you mean?” you asked, slightly put out.

“Loki is a mass murderer!” Natasha indicated. “Not to mention he’s tortured our friends and acts like a complete asshole.” she continued. You wave your hand at her in an attempt to silence her.

“Like I said, he’s changed.” you defended. Natasha didn’t respond, leaving you two in silence. After some time, you thought of your task to sell your paintings at the party. You decided that it could be best if you were to just leave Loki in his room. Plus, it’s not like everything Natasha had said wasn’t true. Perhaps it's for the best that you don’t get too close with the terrorist of New York.

~

Third Person POV:

Loki watched his brother pace the floor as he sat on the bed, pondering ways to sneak himself into the party. The longer they allowed time to pass by, the more hopeless Loki began to feel.

“We’re short on time brother, this won’t work.” Loki sighed. “I say we just go with my idea.” he suggested. Thor gave him a stern look and crossed his arms.

“Loki, we are not going to tie up one of the party members to disguise yourself as them.” Thor lectured his brother. Loki scoffed at Thor’s statement. After a bit more pacing, Thor snapped his fingers as a scheme formed in his mind.

“But perhaps disguises are not such a terrible idea after all!” Thor quipped with a large grin. Loki raised his eyebrow at Thor, signaling him to continue with his thought. “Think back to when we were children. That trick you always played on me when you would transform yourself into a snake just to stab me.” Thor explained with slight annoyance in his voice, remembering those times of his childhood.

“If you’re suggesting I slither into the event as a snake, I don’t think the midgardians would be too pleased with serpents being let loose in the building.” Loki glared at Thor, thinking it was a poor idea.

“Yes, but that’s only if you are caught.” Thor urged with a devious smile. He knew his younger brother was always up for a challenge and this task seemed perfect for him. Loki gave the thought a second chance before chuckling to himself.

“Excuse me, brother.” Loki sighed, standing up from the bed. “I have a party to attend.”

~

Stark’s party was full to the brim with people. You had already known ahead of time that the event would be completely packed, yet the amount of people still managed to astonish you. So there you were, greeting people as they walked in. You gave warm smiles and shook hands with the ones who offered it. After some friendly greetings, you were approached by Tony who had ushered you away from the entrance. You expected nothing less from him.

“Alright Y/N, this is your deadline. Where’s the paintings?” he asked, feigning impatience.

“Relax, Tony, I’ve got everything set up by the bar.” you advised him, gesturing towards your stand which displayed the art.

“Oh good, because I’ve already promised like four people that I had museum quality shit here.” he shared quickly, walking towards your platform. You roll your eyes and dramatically sigh at Tony.

“Of course you have.” you said, following him. “Well I suppose I should get to work then.” you said, observing the line of people in front of the small stage.

“Good thinking. Thanks again, Picasso.” Tony thanked you, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before sauntering over to a large group of people. You took a step onto the platform and strolled over to the small microphone displayed on a stand for you. Everyone took note of your presence and gave their full attention to you. You looked out to the crowd before sighing. As much as you weren’t in the mood to converse with a large amount of people, you always had an open heart for Tony.

“Hello, everyone!” you greeted into the microphone. “My name is Y/N and I am the creator of these paintings presented before you today. Let’s just start with a little bit of browsing, shall we?” you suggested, hoping the crowd would see eye to eye with your proposal. Much to your relief, they did, nodding their heads with agreement. “Great! Bidding will start in ten minutes.” you announced before turning the microphone off. You sighed in relief, happy you had extra time for yourself. In all honesty, you just needed time to get a drink. You were convinced you could never survive a Stark party without some sort of alcohol to give you an extra confidence boost. As you made your way to the bar, you were halted by no other than your friend Thor. He was dressed quite dapper, yet casual enough to give him easy mobility.

“Ah, Y/N! So lovely to see you.” he greeted, with a beer bottle in his hand.

“Thor, it’s great to see you too.” you nodded at him with a cordial smile. “You look striking tonight.” you complimented.

“Oh, you’re too kind. You look very well put together yourself.” Thor chuckled, giving you a friendly wink. You were wearing a nicely fitted red dress that fell right above your knees with lace to give it alluring details. You also wore black heels to give you an extra two or so inches.

“Thank you very much.” you blushed, giving him a curt nod. You began to walk away to retrieve a drink from the bar, but it seemed Thor had different plans. He quickly stepped in front of you, halting you in your tracks.

“One more thing!” Thor announced. “I believe my drink requires a refill.” he explained waving his empty bottle almost nervously. You chuckle lightly, wondering why he was telling you this.

“Are you asking me to get you another beer, Odinson?” you snicker. Thor’s eyes widen as he begins to stammer for the right words.

“No, no! My apologies, I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink. I’d just like for you to join me.” he specified, gesturing towards the bar, awkwardly smiling.

“Oh!” you exclaimed in delight. You felt having your friend to accompany you would help ease your mind. “I’d like that, thank you.” you said as you started to walk. Thor followed closely next to you with a beaming smile.

Everything was going perfectly.

Once you reached the bar you took a seat on one of the tall bar stools. You were scanning the menu when Thor set his empty bottle on the counter before taking a step away from the bar.

“Please excuse me, Lady Y/N. I believe Stark has called for me.” Thor stated quickly. Confused, you turned to look at the large mass of people Tony was talking to. You could’ve sworn Tony hadn’t even paid attention to anything but his guests. Before you could question anything, Thor had already quickly turned to walk the opposite direction. You sighed, turning back towards the bar when you realized there wasn’t even a bartender to tend to you.

“Well this was useless.” you muttered to yourself. As you were about to stand from your seat, Thor’s beer bottle began to shake. You froze, thinking your eyes were just playing tricks on you. Suddenly, a small snake began to crawl out of the bottle and onto the counter. You gasped, jumping from your seat in shock. Surely you were imagining things. The green scaly creature paused to curiously look up at you then turned to slowly slither down the opposite side of the bar. You approached the bar once more, peeking over the top of the counter to search for the snake. Then with a green glow, the snake quickly transformed into the one and only Loki Laufeyson. He simply sighed, brushing off his gorgeously tailored black suit and looked up at you.

“Good evening.” he greeted casually. Your mouth hung open, completely caught off guard at what you had just witnessed.

“Loki, you- how- you aren't supposed to be here!” you stumbled your words in confusion.

“Yes, but was it not you who said I shouldn’t be cooped up in my chambers all day?” Loki snorted playfully. You had no possible way to protest. Instead you resorted to looking around to make sure nobody was looking in your direction. This earned a barely audible groan from Loki. “I presume you wish for me to change back and slither my way back to my room then?” he questioned.

“No!” you declared maybe a little too quickly. “It’s okay, you can stay.” you said trying to remain calm. Loki smiled at how flustered you were, finding it almost amusing.

“Verywell.” he settled calmly. “Now, my lady, may I offer you a drink?” he suggested with a tone that gave you uncontrollable butterflies. You blushed at his offer with a nervous smile.

“I think a red wine will suffice, thank you.” you replied as naturally as you possibly could. Though of course it was a difficult task trying to keep calm. Loki just nodded and turned to prepare your glass. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder to be sure nobody was watching you. You knew that Stark practically had eyes everywhere, not to mention anybody could easily take a glance at Loki and recognize him from New York. Because of this, you spoke the first thing that came to your mind.

“Loki, we have to get out of here.” you uttered straightforward. He paused pouring your glass of wine to give you a puzzled look. “Tony is bound to realize that you’re here. Plus the bartender could come back at any moment.” you told him, quickly standing to your feet. Loki just nodded before setting the wine bottle down with a slightly disappointed sigh.

“Lead the way then.” Loki said almost in a testing tone. Without another word, the same green glow from earlier masked over his body and changed him back into his serpent form. Loki snaked back into the beer bottle that he had once emerged from, hinting for you to carry him as Thor did. You grabbed the bottle from the counter and turned to walk from the bar. Where you were headed was beyond you. At this point, you were simply just trying to get away from the crowd of people. As you walked, you looked down at the empty beer bottle to be sure Loki sat comfortably in his glass container. He simply looked up at you and poked his tongue out at you in response. As a result of not watching where you were walking, you ended up walking right into a woman’s body, nearly knocking her over. You gasp, taking a step back from the mystery person.

“I am so sorry!” you exclaimed before quickly looking down into the beer bottle to affirm Loki was okay. Though what you were not expecting was a familiar voice to respond to your apologies.

“Well would you look at who it is.” the woman spoke with a chuckle. “You were always quite a clumsy girl.” she remarked. When you looked up to identify the woman, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your mouth.

“Alice Weaver!” you exclaimed. You didn’t know who to expect the woman to be, but it certainly wasn’t her. Alice was a girl you had met back in highschool. She had insisted on devoting her teenage years to making yours miserable. It had started when her boyfriend at the time had broken up with her and he attempted to use you as a rebound. Her jealousy for you has been undying ever since.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Y/N!” she grinned, her shrill voice dripping with sarcasm. “How have you been?” she asked.

“I’ve been fine, thanks.” you said, shifting from side to side. You made an attempt to walk past her, but of course she quickly stepped in front of you before you could make any distance.

“Oh good!” she quipped as she looked you up and down. She then caught sight of the beer bottle in your hand. “I never took you for a beer drinker, though.” you panicked a little, hoping she wouldn’t see the small snake hiding inside of it.

“It’s for a friend.” you quickly whipped up an answer. Alice scoffed.

“That’s what they all say, isn’t it?” she questioned, keeping her seemingly sweet smile on display. You gritted your teeth. In all honesty, you were still in shock that she was even here in the first place. “Anyways, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to hear that I’m actually staying at the compound until tomorrow. I’m here to assist Stark on research.” she went on. You listened in disbelief.

“Research?” you asked plainly, your throat running dry.

“Yes of course, I’m studying engineering and physics.” Alice gushed.

“Wonderful.” you spat as friendly as you could possibly muster. You went to take a step and she walked in front of you yet again.

“Oh, Y/N, shouldn’t you be over there bidding those… pictures?” she said, pointing over towards your stand. “Here, I’ll hold this for you!” she said quickly snatching the beer bottle. You gasped trying your best to grab it back.

“Wait, no! Alice, I need that!” you yelped, struggling to grab the bottle back. You were suddenly pulled back from her, leaving you empty handed.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?!” Tony whisper-screamed to you, retracting you from Alice. “I have a group of very unhappy people waiting for you. Now stop bugging my student and do your job.” he exclaimed before softly shoving you towards the small stage. Now you were panicking. Tony Stark and your high school nemesis were in possession of Loki and you couldn’t do a single thing about it. So there you were, nervously walking up onto the stage and turning the microphone on.

“I am so sorry for the delay everyone, I ran into some issues.” you spoke to the crowd nervously. “I suppose I’ve kept you all waiting long enough, let’s get started.” you clapped your hands together, trying to seem as normal as possible. As you continued to speak out towards the crowd, you watched from afar as Tony and Alice continued to talk. You could tell by the way the two kept glancing over at you, they were certainly speaking of your behavior. You shakily sighed, going to grab a painting to exhibit it on the easel. Once you were back in front of the microphone you opened your mouth to speak but was abruptly interrupted when you felt something crawl down the back of your neck, causing you to squeak. This earned a suspicious reaction from the people in the crowd. You quickly recomposed yourself when you heard little snake hisses behind your ear. Loki. You were immensely relieved that he managed to sneak out of the bottle. He must have quickly slithered up your arm and up your back when Alice had grabbed the bottle from you. Although you were beyond grateful for his escape, feeling his cold scales on your bare skin made you shutter. You quickly cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, I just am not myself tonight.” you managed to squeak out. “A-anyways, do we have any takers for this piece?” you stuttered out. As you continued to make biddings for your painting, you could feel Loki leisurely slither down your neck and into the back of your dress. You slightly jumped at feeling Loki enter the back of your dress, making your heart race. “Sold!” you nearly barked out, hoping it would get Loki to cease his crawling. It didn’t. He continued down your dress until he rested over the back of your bra. You began to walk as casual as possible to your next art piece. As you bent down to pick it up you felt Loki crawl to the side of your dress towards the cup of your bra. After picking it up, you subtly brushed your bicep over your side, hoping to halt Loki’s movement. With your luck, this seemed to only spur him on. Loki then made haste to sneak into the cup of your bra, causing you to gasp.

“Can we hurry it up, please?” a very impatient man nagged from the audience. You groaned in response, not entirely sure if it was from the man’s remark or Loki.

“M-my apologies, sir.” you apologized, clearly annoyed yourself. “I guess I just have a chill I can’t seem to shake.” you admitted to the audience, but mostly directed towards the small snake currently resting in your bra. You felt him nestled comfortably against your skin, finally stopping to rest. “Next up is one of my personal favorites. Do we have any takers?” you spoke out to the crowd. You continued the bidding, trying the best you could to ignore the fact that Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischief was presently relaxed in the cup of your bra as a snake. As you continued speaking, you felt him hiss from time to time causing his small forked tongue to brush the skin of your sternum. You swore it made your breath hitch everytime. This continued until every single piece was presented to its new owner. By the end of the night, you ended up with a large amount of cash though you didn’t seem to care much about that. While you granted the very last person your last painting, Stark approached with a drink in his hand. You whined to yourself upon seeing him. You were far too flustered to even deal with his snarky remarks.

“Congrats, Y/N! You got the job done.” Tony joked. You leered at him, walking off the stage.

“Tony, not now.” you said, trying to walk away.

“Oh don’t be such a sour puss, you got loads of cash.” he continued to provoke. “Hold on, I got one more thing for you.” You felt your body stiffen. You sigh, turning on your heels to face Tony.

“What?” you asked plainly. Tony flashed you a smile as he handed you the drink he had come to you with. Whiskey on ice.

“For you, it’s on the house. Just a ‘thank you’ for tonight.” he said, sounding truly genuine. You couldn’t possibly stay mad at him, even if it was Tony Stark. You took the glass from him and returned the smile.

“You’re welcome.” you smiled. Just as you were about to take a sip of your much deserved reward, you felt Loki abruptly start to move again. He began to creep his way out the side of the cup of your bra, passing into the opposite one. This resulted in a yelp that had been caught in your throat all night, startling Tony.

“Y/N, are you-”

“Loki!”

“What?”

“I have to check on Loki!” you quickly shouted setting the drink down. “H-he’s been in his room all night!” you swiftly made an excuse. Thankfully, your excuse was adequate enough for you to get out of there. You swiftly speed walked to the nearest bathroom avoiding any more interruptions. The quicker you moved, the more agitated you could feel Loki getting. As you made your way to the bathroom you could feel him continue to slither around your bra. Once you finally reached the bathroom you slammed the door shut and pulled the hem of your dress away from your chest.

“OUT!” you screamed. Loki listened, crawling out of your bra and down your leg. Once he reached the floor, his magic glow covered him once more, turning him back into his godly self.

“Well…” he panted, clearly shaken up from how speedy you walked. “Could you have moved any faster?” he nearly growled. You could feel your anger rise and your patience snap.

“How is any of this my fault?!” you shouted at him. “What in the hell were you doing, going into my bra like that?” you asked. Loki rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Oh my apologies, in case you didn’t notice, I had nowhere else to go!” he snapped back. You loudly groaned as you covered your face with your hands.

“Tonight was a disaster, all thanks to you!” you argued, pointing a finger at him.

“Me?!” he barked, causing his voice to echo throughout the bathroom. You jumped at his sudden loudness. “I put all my efforts in sneaking into this awful party just so I could simply serve you a drink to thank you for your generosity from yesterday.” he spoke loudly, slowly approaching you. His words shocked you. You hadn’t realized that Loki only wanted to attend the event just so he could show you some kindness. Your face fell, almost feeling sorry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” you said in a softer tone. Loki remained irritated, taking another big step towards you so there was almost no more space between the two of you. Your breath became ragged.

“Perhaps next time, at least make an attempt to stay calm and keep yourself from squirming.” he requested bitterly.

“You want to speak about squirming?!” your voice raised again. “How about next time, you don’t go into my bra!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Your breath betrays you, Midgardian. If I didn’t know any better, the hitch in your throat would tell me that you rather enjoyed it.” he mocked. You could feel your face burn a bright red, embarrassment flooding your emotions.

“Y-you disgust me!” you spat out. Loki snickered almost as if he was purposely trying to provoke you.

“There it is again.” he pointed out. “You get flustered so easily, it’s almost pitiful.” You remained silent, stunned by his remark. He continued to stare at you, his face dangerously close to yours.

“I hate you.” you whispered. What happened next was completely out of your control. Instead of getting anger out of Loki, your statement sparked something uncontrollable. He swiftly grabbed your hips and crashed his lips upon yours, sealing you both in a passionate kiss. Before your mind had time to register what was happening, he pulled away, removing his hands from you completely. He examined your face, searching for any sort of restraint. Realizing what he had just done, he became worrisome.

“My most sincere apologies, I-” you quickly cut him off, pulling him back into yet another searing kiss. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as the kiss grew hungrier. His hands traveled up to your face to pull you in closer, making your breath quicken. Your mind was racing with all sorts of emotions, but you knew one thing was for sure: you didn’t want this moment to ever end. But it did. You both quickly pulled away from each other when the door to the bathroom swung open. Your head snapped to look at whoever entered the bathroom and your heart sank when you realized who it was. Alice Weaver stood at the door, looking both you and Loki up and down. She laughed in disbelief at what she saw in front of her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

[laurore-stormwitch]

It’s almost impossible to write anything that it’s not angs for these two. but i had this funny triumvirate interaction in my head for a while so here it is, i put it directly after my previous fic “we will fight for you”. hope you like this soft/funny take too! 

blissful mornings - AO3

___________________________________________________________

Nikolai opened his eyes slowly, catching back his consciousness with each blink; he took a breath as things went into focus, dimly aware of his surroundings. Blue walls painted like waves of a storm-swept sea, lit up by the first rays of sun casting away the night. It was almost dawn, by the reddish and golden light outside the windows. He made to turn on his side, but realized he was curled around someone. The scent of wildflowers clouded him.

Zoya. He was in Zoya’s room. In Zoya’s rumpled sheets, to be precise.  

It took a moment for the events of the previous night to crowd his mind, scrambling his thoughts. Another itching breath made his way out of his lungs as he tried to steady the frantic beating of his heart, shaken by the sheer enormity of what happened. His arm was resting on Zoya’s waist, still asleep at his side, warm and peaceful. She was laying with her back to him: he watched her chest slowly go up and down with each breath, the curve of her neck still so close to his lips, black hair grazing his cheeks. He pulled her tighter in an instinct, burying his nose on her skin lightly, feeling as if he wanted to drown in her, that this dream would vanish if he let her go. She trembled at his touch, stirring in the covers, slowly awakening. Zoya turned on her back with a sigh, leaning her head slightly towards him. Her eyelids fluttered open as she drifted out of sleep.

“You move too much in your sleep, Nikolai.”

She mumbled, slightly annoyed, closing her eyes again. Nikolai smiled against her neck, brushing his lips on her ear, skimming on her arm with his fingers. He felt her all over him, inside him, everywhere. Nikolai knew he was never going to have enough of this, of her. Never was he going to have enough of his name escaping her slightly parted lips with that lethal softness.

“I thought you were an early riser. All the pre-dawn trek to the Grand Palace ought to have given you some routine.”

Zoya huffed, moving on her side and prompting herself up on one arm, stretching her back. She tossed her hair over one shoulder. Nikolai looked at her in awe; he felt the air being snatched out of his lungs. The only coherent thought he managed to grasp was that this was most definitely going to be his undoing.

He had grown used to see Zoya in her blue kefta uniform. They spent so much time together in the past years that she had become a familiar gaze, something that sounded like home. Even when he met her, her beauty was not the first thing he noticed. Not that he was going to deny being struck by her appearance, but not in the way every other man seemed to be. Nikolai had been way more fascinated about the persona she built around herself, the way she gracefully conducted herself with other people, walking through the palace as if she owned every single wall of it, always ready, always sharp. So her beauty kind of went in the background. And he made a point not be distracted by it, to get adjusted to the sight of her in the silk kefta.

The first time he saw her in a gown, well, that had been challenging, to say the least. It wasn’t a common sight: Zoya liked to always play the general, even at official events. Which meant she usually kept her kefta, maybe more elaborate ones, with precious embroidery and jewels. The first time she resorted to a gown was the winter fete they threw on the first year of Nikolai’s reign. He had to admit that when she walked inside the ballroom it took him a while more than usual to regain himself. She looked every inch like a queen, in a floor-length dress that hugged every curve of her body, her neck bare and her hair tied up in an elaborate updo. That had been a tiring night, forcing himself not to stare. And that was something he definitely didn’t get used to: he just learned to hide his reactions and manage to act like he wasn’t struck by her un-earthly attire every time they threw a ball.

But this moment. This what was bound to take him to his knees.

Because Zoya now didn’t look like a queen, like a general, or even like a saint. She looked like a girl; granted, the dreamiest girl he could ever lay eyes, but still a girl, and that almost brought him to tears. She could’ve been taken from a painting: as she brought herself up, the waves of her hair moved like a waterfall on her shoulders, delicately brushing the scars on her back as she tilted her head up towards the sunrise. Her bare skin was glowing, scarcely covered by the sleeveless nightgown she wore, wrinkled around her body, silver like the moonlight and the beads he picked up every now and then and kept in his pockets. And when she opened her eyes and turned to him, Nikolai swore his heart stopped in its track. Zoya cast him a look that was utterly unguarded, in a disarming way he thought he was never going to see her. In a way he never knew her. Her eyes were pools of a deep ocean, calm and serene. They were alive with a light both tender and passionate; he could see the steel that forged her in that light, the fire inside her. A faint smile tugged her lips as she locked those impossibly clear eyes with his. She is happy, he realized with a bolt of crushing desire and warmth. He had seen her laugh before, he had seen her smile, but not like this. This was pure, untouched, sincere.  

Nikolai knew with an unwavering certainty that he could have spent a thousand lifetimes fighting just to see this look on her again. That this was the Zoya that loved fiercely and moved mountains and let her soul be seen. Love is the only thing worth waging a war for, Ehri told him. She wasn’t that far from the truth. This, this was the thing for which he would face the Fjerdans, the Shu, whoever came their way. This was the thing he searched for all his troubled life, all the times he had wanted more. More life, more love, more adventure, more excitement, more safety and trust. He found it in her.

It lasted for a moment, not more. In a slip instant, Zoya seemed to catch herself back again, her look hardening just what was necessary. But for Nikolai, it was enough. Enough to know he was lost, that Zoya was not only the tether he gripped to relinquish the demon, but the very thread that tied him to reality.

“Why are you staring at me?”

He smiled, catching her wrist and pulling her down on the pillows. She made no move to protest as he circled his arms around her, combing her tangled hair through his fingers.

“You’re less ruthless in the morning, Nazyalensky.”

She rolled her eyes and brought her hand at the base of his neck, releasing a breath. Her voice was a bit shaky. Everything about this was so completely overwhelming, he realized, for the both of them. Her eyes darkened as she delicately brushed the back of his head.

“Did I hurt you last night?” He gave a brief shook and held her closer.

“Not at all. Besides, I kind of deserved it. I’m awfully obnoxious when I put my mind to it.”

“Did Nikolai Lantsov just admit he’s insufferable?”

“I can be at times. But I’d take a small concussion for a night with you all over again.”

She flinched a little. He knew it was soon to joke about this, but he also knew he needed to be the one to make her believe in him, and in them. He needed to deserve her, and he had an unshakable resolve to do it. As good as he was with words, declarations seemed to only bring her uneasiness. So instead of talking her out of her mind, he did the next best thing he could think of and drew her in a for a kiss. It was soft and delicate, nothing like the hunger and the despair with which they explored each other the first time. Zoya leaned in without resistance and he felt her tension decrease. When he sensed her relax, he drew away an inch, both breathless.  

“That’s not playing fair.”

“Never said I would.” She exhaled, placing another kiss on his lips and giving him a firm look.

“You should go back, Nikolai, the sun is almost up. Tolya and Tamar are going to kill you, if they don’t already believe someone kidnapped you.”

There was no sharpness in her voice; Zoya was matter of factly, ever the general with a care on the fact that besides being Nikolai, he was the King too. He relished in her speaking to him so gently; still, he didn’t have the slightest will to get up from this bed and leave her. The thought of his guards didn’t cross his mind, but she was right. Nikolai didn’t tell them where he was going last night when he stormed out of his room, and he never got back. The twins probably spent hours looking for him. He groaned.

“They are going to kill me.”

She smiled, shaking her head. It was an insecure smile, almost as if she was trying to get used to down her walls a bit around him. He had half a mind to find a practical way to make her give up on her resolve, but as if they could read their thoughts, someone knocked lightly on the door in that instant. They heard Tamar clear her throat, much to Nikolai’s disappointment.

“Zoya? Are you awake?”

Zoya widened her eyes pulling herself up abruptly. Nikolai tried to hold her back by her waist, but she shot him an intimidating glare, keeping her voice steady.

“Yes, Tamar. Is everything alright?”

“We can’t find Nikolai. Is he…uhm, have you seen him by chance?”

This time, it was Zoya who groaned, untangling herself from Nikolai’s arms. She got up quickly, searching frantically for her kefta while tumbling towards the door. She stilled in front of it, turning to Nikolai, still lazily spread on her sheets perfectly at ease, dropping her voice to a worried whisper.

“What do we do?”

Nikolai smirked. She was going to hate this. And he was about to have an even more delightful morning than it had already been. He pulled himself up, cleared his throat too and raised his tone.

“I’m here, Tamar. We’ll be out in a second.” He answered to his guard. Zoya glared at him.

“Seems I am the one who’s going to commit regicide after all.” Hissed Zoya, casting him a look that clearly conveyed how serious her threat was. She tossed him his shirt, buttoning her rumpled kefta. “Put something on before I struck you with a lightning.”

They didn’t look remotely presentable, and Zoya was in a panic. A delightful morning indeed. She smoothed her clothes and tried to fix her hair in a desperate attempt before opening the door to her sitting room where the twins were waiting for them. They were nowhere near preoccupied, which left Nikolai with the suspicion they had known exactly where he had been the whole time. Tolya was sitting in a chair skimming through a poetry book, while Tamar was perched on the table flexing her axes. When they emerged, she waved a mischievous grin at them.

“Oh, there you are. We brought you some tea.”

Nikolai leaned on the wall, glancing briefly at Zoya at his side. She crossed her arms with an unnerved look. Where her cheeks turning a different shade of pink? Was Zoya Nazyalensky blushing? His mood improved even more.

“I’m sorry if I worried you. I didn’t mean to have you search the whole palace for me.”

“It’s our duty, Your Highness. What matters is that you’re safe.” Replied Tolya respectfully, giving Nikolai a nod. Tamar, on the other hand, didn’t have her brother gift for propriety.

“Oh, please.” She outright laughed in their faces, jumping down from the table and pinning her weapons on her side. “Like we’ve actually run all night to find you. We came straight here. And the guards said you dismissed them, so it was not that hard to put two and two together.”

“Well, I guess that’s why you’re the head of my intelligence.”

Nikolai couldn’t stop himself and winked at her. He heard Zoya made an exasperate sound beside him. At this rate, she was going to unleash a storm on their friends too. While he was caught up with the fact that they knew about the two of them, she was still fortified in her conviction that she had been perfectly subtle. He leaned closer, discreetly brushing a hand on her back to keep her calm, giving her a reassuring look. As she caught his eyes, he saw her shoulders beginning to ease, and everything would have gone smoothly if at that precise moment the door wouldn’t have slammed open again. Genya stomped in the room with David trotting absentmindedly behind her, head buried in some documents.

“Zoya! I hope you are up we have so…”

As her gaze turned upward, she fell silent and stopped in the middle of the room, shooting them a confused look. David almost stumbled on her, blinked twice and then immediately gave up on understanding what was happening. He slumped in a chair, while Genya’s attention travelled from the twins and lingered on Nikolai and Zoya, on their messy appearance and Nikolai’s hand still gently laid on Zoya’s lower back. She widened her amber eye, and Nikolai saw how she hardly contained herself from giggling. Nikolai grinned; Zoya seemed to realize how much they were giving away and batted his hand.

“So, are we having a party here that I didn’t know about this early in the morning?”

Genya was digging for her own grave, apparently. Nikolai was about to try and salvage the situation, but Tamar was quicker.

“Well, if there’s a party those two are the only ones having fun.”

This time, Nikolai shot her a warning look. He heard the air crackle lightly; Zoya was not inclined to mockery as much as him, and the flashes of last night breakdown were still nitid.  But their friends were not going to let the occasion slip after all these months. And to be honest, he was indeed having a lot of fun. Worst comes worst it was their turn for being swept by a gust of wind. Genya had a smug look on her face, clearly immensely satisfied by how things were turning out. She turned to Tamar, opening her hand towards her.

“Pay up. It seems I have won.”

“Did you bet on me?”

Zoya’s high-pitched voice interrupted them. Nikolai was extremely amused. If he knew there was a bet going around, he would’ve probably weighed in too.

“Not just us!” Protested Genya, equally outraged, as if this was bound to make it sound better. “Don’t get angry at me. Nadia was on this too. And Tolya didn’t want to bet but he still pitched in his support!” She accused, pointing her finger at the giant.

“I don’t play money on other people’s lives. That doesn’t mean I’m not a keen observer and I can’t help others win.” The twin excused himself, prompting his hands up.

David emerged from his papers looking at Nikolai with resignation. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you know I don’t interfere with these things.”

“That means I lost to Nadia too!” Tamar whined.

A thunder rolled over the room, making them startle and effectively silencing all of them. They turned to Zoya, who stood with her palms open upside, electricity sparking from her skin, and a threatening smile on her face.

“So, that shut you up.” She said with a delighted tone. She put her hands together behind her back, straightening her spine and drawing the power away. “Now, if Genya is done ridiculing my personal life, can we go on with the business of the day?”

“You’re so prickly, Zoya. Always killing the entertainment.” Genya scoffed at her after a moment of surprise. She glanced and Nikolai: she was practically beaming with contentment. They all took a sit; Genya poured tea from the samovar while Tolya peered in David’s work and Tamar opened some maps. They purposefully turned their backs on Nikolai and Zoya, leaving them a moment to collect themselves. Nikolai chuckled and tried to stiffen a laughter with a poorly executed cough. Zoya’s gaze snapped to him so fast he thought he heard the bone crack.

“If you let out so much as a whisper about how you are enjoying this, I’m going to burn you alive.”

Despite the snarky words, her eyes were lit up with affection. The image of her half-dressed and unguarded flooded his mind. Nikolai waved a glowing smile at her and curled a hand on her cheek. She exhaled a long breath, leaning to his touch and closing her eyes. Having Zoya so trusting in his hands was intoxicating; every time she did this, it was like coming back to life, and it made his breath itch and his heart ache with joy. Knowing she would break his arm if he’d done a more prominent sign of affection, he only grazed his thumb on her lips, already yearning to be alone with her. Would this pull towards her he felt ever diminish? His skin was on fire where he touched her, and he barely kept himself restrained.

“What do you say we leave our friends alive for now? And keep the rest for later?”

She cast her eyes heavenward but returned the smile and squeezed his hand briefly.

“Fine. Let’s drive this saint forsaken country out of the mud.”

The determined looks of the general and the ruler slipped back into their places, the fire and the steel rumbling in her eyes. He gestured her to take her seat beside him, looking at a room full of the people he cared for the most; he knew how fragile this peace was. That the Fjerdans were waiting for them with an army, that they had their worst nightmare chained up in a cell in the palace. That he still needed to figure things out with Zoya, be sure of his alliance with Ehri. But all those things seemed like nothing, right now. Because he also knew that with them at his side, they could survive. That the memory of the first morning sun grazing Zoya’s bare back would give him the strength to defy each and every one of his enemies. He put his hands on the table and turned to his friends with a cocky grin on his face.

“So, who do we get to fight today?”

[jmalkki]

From head canon to on-screen reality 

Episode 6 of Season 3. You, guys.

My. Goodness.

What oddly specific joy.

One has secretly hoped a scene of this nature to eventually make it onto the show, and the promo images promised it was coming now. So, one went in expecting to finally see on screen the sweet sweet scene of the couple all domestic, chilling on their bed, sharing thoughts; the one one has imagined so many times in various forms, be it in text or in illustrations. Seemingly topped with a kiss, as well -  gorgeous for the unremarkable mundanity of itself, without any story points or grand gestures tied to it.

Though the promo image promised kiss was not to be seen, what the domestically set scene itself delivered in substance was such a validating treat one could not feel one bit amiss; something one couldn’t have expected, hoped for, or imagined to come worth.

The end scenes of the episode made some major personal head canons true on screen! Namely the fact of Paul immediately recognizing the nature of one talking by oneself as if to a lost loved one, and admitting carrying Hugh similarly with him after Dear Doctor’s death. And, the fact, that both of the men hate the augmentations on Paul’s arms.

Seemingly tiny things perhaps, but these have both been some of the most persistent themes in my past writing of these two. And much as I abhor to go back to my past scribbles, I felt compelled to quickly go through whole of the Honey Mushroom series, and collect below all of the narratives focused on Paul talking to Hugh in his mind, and the instances mentioning the shared bother of the spore drive augmentations.

Which now suddenly as if offer possible context for the on-screen dialogue:

“God, I hated those things.” “I hated them more.”  

I realize this is quite individual a glee, specific to curious personal head canon nuggets (and perhaps to those who might’ve enjoyed the nuggets / nursed any similar own ideas), but I am beyond ecstatic for those nuggets to have now made it on screen and/or fit into the canon, complementary to the narrative!

How ever coincidental, I think one must thank at least Anne Cofell Saunders, the writer of the episode, for including these specific allusions / plot directions, and in doing so making reality of one’s particular head canons. And, that gratitude must also be extended to anyone else, who might’ve been involved in what ever capacity in the process of bringing these into the show’s in-universe reality.

Feels like such an immense affirmation of one’s year(s) spent passionately imagining these unmentioned-in-canon dimensions (regardless how ever fumblingly). Such joy to see these once dearly envisioned behind-the-scenes aspects brought on screen, and into the canon.

More small, but notable glees: Paul’s PADD on the nightstand. And the men sleeping on the ‘correct’ sides of the bed, which has also been a theme in exploring the character of Paul.  (And, in fact, Paul scratching the augmentations/residuals, too *heehee*).

Okay. Let’s go.

Passages of the augmentations being a bother:

From my second ever narrative, and the first to mention the augmentations, if not yet for the precise shared discomfort factor. Also the first to feature Paul talking to Hugh after the death:

[He shifted on the chair and reached for his forearm. Feeling out the hard plastic augmentation with his fingers. Rubbing it in a circular motion on top of his muscles, letting the gentle pressure push against his bones.

They were another reason - the augmentations - why he had felt so bare at the gym dressing rooms. He had only ever really bared them in the engineering for their designed purpose, and with Hugh around in the sickbay or in the confinements of their quarters. He had showed them to few others of course on occasion, but on his own discretion. He wasn’t comfortable letting them ‘hang out’ like he had just done. It too left him feeling exposed.

“They keep insisting I go in for a medical examination”, Paul muttered out quietly, while skimming through his calendar, like he was expecting Hugh - his resident consultant on all things medical - to actually answer.]

- We Are Undone, But Soldier On

From my only ‘alternative future’ story, with the first ever allusion to the shared discomfort with the apparatus. Also the narrative, which solidified the idea of Paul harboring Hugh ‘alive’ in his mind well after the death:

[ Paul smiled. He put his hand in his hair again, mussed it around a bit, adjusting it from side to side, observing it closely from the mirror. “And you won’t mind this either?” He asked with a faint look of apprehension on his face, “it’s still getting thinner and thinner each year.” “You know I always loved that”, Hugh spoke to him with most affectionate tone, as Paul could feel fingers play with the little swirl of thinning hair on the back of his head, “it makes you look irresistibly manly.”

“Like these”, Hugh continued, as Paul raised his arms in front of himself, displaying the thick, fluffy white hair covering his forearms, “I love falling asleep into this softness.” “Well, you’re in luck then. They sure aren’t thinning any”, Paul snickered, “I think the hair on my head might be migrating there in fact”. He could hear Hugh chuckle and felt a light encouraging pat on his hips.

Paul turned away from the mirror and walked slowly to the small kitchen cabin in the corner of the room. “Always hated shaving any of that off for those spore drive ports, just so you know.” he could hear Hugh’s voice commenting back at him. Paul was replicating his morning drink. “You won’t mind me saying then, how glad I was to get those off eventually”, Paul conversed in his head as he watched the replicator form a cup of tea.

“Of course not, Mushroom”, Hugh sounded to respond from the bed, “we’ve been through this many times. You don’t need to feel sorry for getting rid of those.”

“Yeah…” Paul muttered as he walked back to the room with a fresh cup of tea in his hands, “it just felt then like I was throwing something of you away”, he thought sitting down on the bed, “I know it’s silly.”

“It is. You know I wasn’t too keen on those things ‘hogging’ your arms either”, Hugh let out a little laugh, “and you really haven’t thrown any of me away.”

Paul looked sheepishly down to his tea. He knew what was coming.

“Don’t you think you should?” Hugh asked with a slight hint of worry in his voice.]

- Becalmed

A short, based solely on the premise of the discomfort of the augmentations:

[ Hugh wakes up to it again. To Paul’s arm wrapping around him. Dang, it used to be one of the best feelings in the mornings to wake in the safety of his Honey Mushroom’s manly arms. Now, there’s often this unforeseen complication. And Hugh has in part himself to blame for it too.

“Mushroom”, Hugh tries to carefully arouse the sleeping man’s attention by shaking him a little. He gets no response.

“Honey, can you move your arm a bit”, Hugh tries a little louder and attempts to wiggle himself from the man’s grip, but Paul just mumbles something in his sleep and won’t move. The arm wants to hold on to Hugh. Dammit. He loves it, but just not like this.

“Paul!” Hugh makes no attempt to discretion anymore, “will you let go of me!”

“What!?” Paul wakes up shouting irately at the abrupt wake-up call.

“Your damn augmentation is boring into my hip again”, Hugh lets the understandably agitated response get to him and snaps back in equal tone, which is far more harsh than necessary.

“Well, who the fuck’s fault is it, it’s there!?” Paul huffs back, fiercely as only provoked Paul would - even when half asleep, like he is right now.

“I know, I know. And you’re very welcome, by the way”, Hugh sneers, “just move it”.

“Fine!” Paul scoffs and yanks his arm to his own side of the bed, turning his back to Hugh as he does so. Hugh turns back to face his side as well.

The doctor then immediately feels regret for having gotten so agitated. He’s upset for the situation - lamenting over losing those comfy arms for the good of this ship -, not mad at the man.

How difficult for the man himself it must be to adjust? And Paul hasn’t once complained. Oddly so.

Hugh had just let his own less than satisfactory wake-up ruin Mushroom’s morning as well, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry, Paul”, Hugh turns to look at the man over his shoulder,  "I didn’t mean to yell. I’m not upset with you".

“I know”, Paul’s sleepy voice sounds faintly somewhere behind the man’s back. He’s not turning back around.

Hugh worries his outburst might scare Paul to thinking twice before embracing him again. And he loves his cuddly Paul.

“Of course you’re still welcome to snuggle”, Hugh assures Paul, letting the regret sound in his voice.

But the man doesn’t hear him, he’s fast asleep again. And Hugh’s bed feels that much emptier without the safety of his man’s arms around him.]

- Losing Your Arms

From one, which references events referenced on screen, namely the introduction of the (preliminary) augmentations by revealing them installed on Paul’s arms:

[ Maybe it had indeed been but a dream after all. Like all of this. Perhaps like all the other times he remembers too. Those instances when they had been somewhere quite surprising - and admittedly quite exciting -, getting distracted by each other from their intended tasks.

Like, when at the Medbay, setting up these brand new spore drive ports on his arms, for a brief stolen moment before the evening shift had arrived to relief Hugh.

Indeed, occasionally he had been back as they were in the middle of hurriedly moving that task to their quarters to follow up on those distractions. Like they must have done just now, judging from the state in which their clothes lay scattered around the room and by the selection of tools haphazardly laid on the coffee table next to them. Like they ever really had any intention to use those once here on this couch.

Paul regards the augmentations on his forearms.

He’s getting a lot of extra orientation practice to the devices through these repeats however, Paul muses. Would Hugh notice anything? Will Mushroom have hard time explaining to the doctor after all of this, how he’s so well adjusted to these things so soon after installation?

He realizes this right now as he catches himself cursing them, positioning his arms so that the ports wouldn’t chafe against their bare skins. Is it too late to rethink these apparatus?]

- Come Again

From one, where Paul regards the augmentations at Hugh’s wake:

[ Paul remembers wrapping his arms around that waist each and every night.

He shifts his arms. The spore drive ports on his forearms, beneath the layers of sleeves, suddenly feel so alien again right then.

It’s not his first time in civilian clothing with them (thanks to his insistence on own comfort wear out of the uniform), but it is the first time with them off duty, since he’s off the ship. And they feel grossly out of place in these Earthly settings.

Hugh too had come to dislike them - his own invention - as soon as it had become apparent how they were an obstruction between their embraces.

Paul should get them removed, if they’ll no longer serve a purpose.

He takes his hands out of the pockets, folds his arms over his chest and goes back to staring across the room with what must appear quite a stern look.]

- Honoring One’s Heart

There was also one about the conceiving of the idea of the augmentations, where, however, the bother factor was not yet in sight:

Doctor, Not an Engineer

And this one, which doesn’t technically count for similar 'shared bother’ reasons either, perhaps, but is a whole narrative very much build around the inconvenience of the augmentations:

Performance Issues

Plus, couple saucy ones, which I won’t list here, lest I actually ever want to share this post *ha* More below:

While at it, (and, perhaps more importantly) here are the narratives build around the idea fact (!!) of Paul living with Hugh ‘alive’ in his mind after the death - in narrative order (some already featured above, too). Hardly captured by a single quote, but for a taste:

[ He had finally heard it. The voice. Hugh’s voice trying to calm him down, “Paul. You need to let yourself be upset. You need to let the tears come.” ]

- We Are Undone, But Soldier On

[ ‘Honey? Are you drunk?’

A delightful, relieved curiosity filled Paul’s mind momentarily as he peered into the darkness of the room wide-eyed, to see where the gentle, familiar voice calling him out was coming from.

Then he remembered, and with a loud, derisive scoff sank back into his darkened state of mind, slumping back down on the couch.

“So fucking what!? If I am.” ]

- A Better Man

[ None of this should matter. Not the suit, not the event, not the crowd. Paul is not here, and Hugh is not gone. Not yet anyway. They are still very much together, and just about to leave somewhere off by themselves, once done with this circus. To enjoy each others’ company somewhere away from all of this dreary pretend. Such a presentation, and for whose sake? “You don’t mind, if I’m not honoring you in accordance to the Fleet standards, do you?” He still gets no response. Hugh hasn’t talked to him since Paul disembarked that cursed ship. He’s still here though, isn’t he? Paul would surely feel it, if the man left.]

- Honoring One’s Heart

[ “Yes. We are too damn young to be thinking about retiring yet.” Paul said and turned to look by his side instinctively, only to see there was really no-one there, of course. He let out a little huff and smiled to himself. Then turned back to face the beach in front of him, and paused to think again. “It will surely be painful to be near it all on the Discovery”, his mind went on, “but I’m not quite ready yet to let go of what we had there either”. “Our only home together?” Hugh came back beside him. “Our first home together”, Paul specified, “so far…"]

- First Home

[  “Dear, I’m home”. He can just imagine himself standing there at the door of their cabin, staring into the empty, cold room that used to be. All the pleasant memories now tainted. How exactly will this be helping him to get over? “But please, do remind me again”, Paul whispers to himself, and hears a heavy, sympathetic sigh in reply, as if preparing itself for telling him of all the ways he’s doing the right thing to move on, and how it’s proud of him for not giving up, and how it supports him, and all that fucking sentimental nonsense, it’s had to tell him already, over and over. And which yet Paul needs to hear. To keep faith. To not forget. ]

- Watching Over You

[  “Hmh”, Paul shrugs, taking in the thought, suddenly a slight twinkle in his eyes, “…but I have too much ‘unbridled passion’ you say?” he then yields, disregarding his persistent gravity, as he apprehensively turns his playful smirk at Hugh, readying himself for this blessed dream to end short. But the man stays here. Startlingly, staring right back at Paul’s surprised gaze with almost haunting clarity. Paul’s grip on the newly corporeal man tightens in a moment of incredulity. For the first time in weeks - but which feels like a year - Paul is able to see the man, to look into those loving eyes again, bathe in that radiant smile, and respond to all of the emotions he now thirstily reads from the man’s beautiful face. And fuck, if there aren’t tears on Paul’s own. The man really is right here.]

- Passion of a Vulcan Like Mind

[ He could feel Hugh’s gaze on himself. “You realize, you actually wanted me gone today?”, he heard Hugh speak out gently, “I got in your way”.

Paul’s smile turned to an anguished frown. The tone of understanding in Hugh’s voice hurt him. “Never”, he attested firmly. He lay there as still as possible, staring at the ceiling, afraid to move too much, or turn to glance at his side, lest it chased away this sensation of Hugh beside him.

“You are being stubborn again, Mushroom”, Hugh whispered with a hint of worry in his voice, “why do you still cling on so desperately?”. He was so close Paul could almost feel the breath on him - or was that the sea breeze perhaps - “You said you’d be okay, if I left - why won’t you let me then?”]

- Becalmed (alt)

[windblooms]

matchups.

hihi :’) way overdue – but here are the matchup requests that i received.  please check for yours below if it was sent in!  ctrl+f on desktop for your mbti/zodiac, or something you remember adding in if the post is too long to scroll through.

Hello! I'm INFP and 98% Type 4 & 92% Type 9. I'm a sun Pisces & moon Aquarius. I'm fairly introverted but can be kinda silly if I'm trying to be social. I'm also empathetic & sympathetic with plenty of self-confidence issues. My main hobbies are playing games, looking into social issues, thinking about game characters,etc. I keep bouncing between visions but Geo might be fitting since current Geo characters are a little more on the introverted side. Not sure if I'm late but wanted to try <3 I'm the INFP Pisces & Aquarius Geo asker and forget to mention that I'd like 1 platonic and 1 romantic!

romantic match-up: kaeya.

although it might be odd at first to pair him with a sensitive and introverted soul such as yourself, on the contrary, kaeya won’t have any issues relating to your emotional nature, even if outwardly it doesn’t seem so (behind his light-hearted and diplomatic dialogue, he’s got a transactional relationship with the knights he’s “loyal” to; his own brother is distasteful towards him; and he’s got an agenda that goes against everything he currently lives with.)  he’ll get a knack out of teasing you when the mood is fitting, and while he may not be the one to give you the best of pep-talks, his self-assured disposition does have its uses: confident words soothe over the creases of your worries and troubling thoughts, and when things are more light-hearted, the two of you will bounce off of each others’ playful mannerism.

platonic match-up: barbara.

barbara is a sweetheart who’s incredibly devoted to both her companions and her aspirations.  wholesome and energetic, she’s sure to keep you on your toes dancing, whether it be about how beautiful it is outside or the potential of a rainbow after a storm.  while she’s a clear extrovert, barbara is also insightful to the feelings of others – after all, an idol must understand her crowd! – so she’s sure to dial down the energy if you’re ever feeling weary that day.

hihi !! can i please submit myself for the matchups ? i'm intp-t, scorpio sun and leo moon. i'm 5'11, female, and am described to be a very energetic person. i like to think optimistically and have a special love for philosophy and chemistry !! my hobbies include reading and writing - i've also recently picked up baking. i think i would have a hydro vision in genshin - hydro users tend to be healers, and i think that's something i would specialize in. can i please have 2 romantic matchups 🥺

i'm the scorpio sun leo moon intp matchup ask !! i forgot to mention that my enneagram type is seven, sorry 😔

romantic match-ups: childe/tartaglia and jean. 

childe hyperfixates on individuals he deems strong.  while this usually translates into people who have experience on the battle field, in your case, he finds it admirable that you’re able to keep up with so many hobbies and interests.  your thirst for new experiences and stimuli is akin to his own sense of adventure, and your devotion to each and every one of them resonates with his own conviction to his aspirations.  you’re strong mentally, and when you interact, he always has to dedicate himself to you fully in order to keep up; there’s never a dull moment when you’re around him.

a workaholic in denial, jean’s position as acting grand master never gives her a break.  she’ll insist that she’s fine, that she’s content with her oversight of the knights, that they are her priority.  and while this is true, when you talk about how your interests range from chemistry to baking, it’ll remind her of the time she doesn’t have to do “normal people things.”  again, not that she’s miserable with the knights, far from it – it’s just that your life and spontaneity reminds her of the things outside of the knights that she wishes she could do, too.  your genuine energy never fails to make her smile – perhaps you were who she’s been waiting for.

hi, congrats on the 1k followers! i really enjoy your writing and i’m glad to see that you’re doing well! i hope the rest of 2021 goes well for you!

for the matchup event, i’d like one platonic and one romantic relationship. i'm an infp, 6w5, scorpio sun and virgo moon. my attention span isn’t the best and i’m an impulsive dumbass, but i still manage to get good grades somehow. i try to be sociable, but i have a habit of clamming up so i usually just end up sticking to the people i know. i’m kinda all or nothing with the effort i put into things; i run out of steam pretty easily so i tend to leave things unfinished, which i hate, but sometimes i’ll go wild and finish a semester-long project in one afternoon. overall, i really like helping others and being seen as reliable! i was really dependent on others in the past, and although i still kinda am now, i’m trying to be someone others can depend on.

as for hobbies, i mostly just play video games and scary stories. i’m also into a lot of crafts, particularly knitting and bracelet-making. i find the motions relaxing, but i enjoy it the most when i have someone to make things for.

as for my vision, i think hydro suits me best because it seems more support-oriented overall, which is the kind of role i’d like to have. however, that doesn’t mean that it can’t be used to do some serious damage if needed.

has lots of energy that’s hard to direct, but can plow through things they set their mind to.  likes security of things they know, and wants to give security as well.  creative outlets.  seems a bit finicky?  but insightful with their own emotions. 

romantic match-up: mona.

outwardly stubborn but inwardly self-critical, mona has dedicated her entire life to the stars, and it shows: her masterful grip on astrology is nothing to scoff at, and she’s arguably the most practiced mage in all of teyvat.  at first, she’ll be baffled at your impulsiveness and “lack of focus”: how will you ever get anything done? she’ll wonder.  but when you prove her time and time again that you can plow right through an obstacle just like scissors through paper, so long as it seizes your interest, she’ll take moments to think about her own outlook on life.  when she realizes your comfort in abstract, artistic past-times, she might ask cutely for you to teach her.  surely, if she can talk to the stars, she can make bracelets . . . ?  o-of course they’d be for you!  who else would they be for, if not someone she deems endearing.

platonic match-up: beidou. 

the personification of a tidal wave, beidou’s ferocity hits hard and leaves a mark.  the two of you will find it easy to bounce off of each others’ ideas – maybe even concerningly so to the rest of the crew – and hell, she might even sway you to sneak into a hilichurl village to steal some carrots if it’ll provide for some overdue fun.  lots of  pats  slaps on the back, and she’ll always beckon you over when she learns about something new, thinking that you might find it interesting, and when she wants someone else’s input.  she trusts your judgement like family, and knows that you’ve always got her.

hi! i would like to request a genshin character matchup (2 romantic). my mbti is infj and enneagram 2. i am a cancer sun and aries moon. i am calm and reliable, but i do have a mischievous side and use a lot of dry humor. when it comes to having fun, i like to enable others! i am also deeply passionate about community service. my hobbies include yarn crafting. my genshin vision would be cryo because i am highly motivated by love/emotion, can come off as cold, and love the ice aesthetic! tysm!

romantic match-ups: diluc and lisa.

often broody and contemplative, diluc has a whirlwind of thoughts in that hard head of his.  through your first interactions, he’ll piece together your intense devotion towards your loved ones and willingness to help others.  he’ll warn you that you should take time to consider yourself, too, and that it shouldn’t always be give, give, give, but those same traits in you that he worries about are the same qualities that draw him in.  once, too, he was as uninhibited as you, had the same energy.  perhaps it’s because you’re both so similar, both in internal hopes and mannerisms, is why he finds it easier to loosen up – even if he doesn’t immediately let go of that deadpan attitude of his when he knows you can come back just as hard.

she’s enthralled by your willingness to engage in her banter.  often, those she teases (flirtatiously or otherwise) leave with a red face and an adorable stutter, but it just so happens that you’re one to fluster her instead.  it’s been a long time since she’s met someone who can keep her guessing, yet is incredibly insightful to themselves and those around them.  she finds your qualities of fun and sincerity to be charming.  you’re a breath of fresh air compared to the stern knights she’s around all day, and she looks forward to meeting you after work, conversing with you as you walk down mondstadtian streets and eat over dinner.  there’s never a dull quip from your lips, and she’d love to hear everything on your mind.

hii hope I'm not making this too hard on u lol one romantic and one platonic please! either gender is fine I'm bi as Hecc mbti: enfp-t sun taurus moon aries I think my vision would be cryo because people say it's connected to loss and I've lost some pretty important people to me and also. I hate the heat I really like cards, wolves and the stars, my hobbies include working with robots and the general aesthetic of the mid 2000s, my favorite season is winter and I love buying ppl gifts ♡

platonic match-up: chongyun. 

immediately, your avoidance of heat and affinity to the calm will give him someone to relate to, and your attraction to the abstract will pique his interests.  (perhaps, once he’s become more confident with his exorcist abilities, he could pick up some of your hobbies?)  your practicality, in contrast to his often self-critical mindset, will ground him in times of need, and he’ll always ask you if he can help you out in return.  while he looks up to you as an individual, he’s honored to also be your friend, or at least someone you devote time to.

romantic-matchup: ningguang.

you both understand sacrifices and loss.  while it’s a rather bleak realization upon getting to know each other, your rationality and perseverance despite the past stirs her respect for you; your mindsets are incredibly alike, and she’ll often input your reasoning into her plans, and deem you a trusted associate of the liyue qixing.  in her demanding position, you are someone she can readily relate to and rely on.  in times when things are less hectic and the two of you can more freely relax, she’ll indulge in a shopping spree with you.  as someone who’s intimate with her in both profession and emotional relations, she’d love to show her gratitude. 

hi! i'd like to participate on the match up event!

i'm an infp, and also type six on the enneagram test, my sun sign is aries and my moon sign is pisces. i like arts in general with my favourite ones being music and painting, but i also enjoy writing and i spend a lot of time songwriting! also as a person i'm rlly clumsy and i kind of look mean bc of my resting bitch face lol. i think my vision would be anemo because i think it can be really useful in many ways and i like the reactions it has with other visions. i'd like two romantic match ups! i hope this was understandeable, as my english isn't the best. thank you! 💌

romantic-matchups: mona and zhongli.

mona will find your interest in the arts intriguing.  you always seem to get ideas at the most random of times, often startling her with how active your mind is.  and despite how she doesn’t reply much in return – she’s not versed in words or drawings, even if she won’t verbally admit it – you seem to be satisfied with her . . . reactions?  even if the most she can relate them to is astrology, it seems to be enough for you, so long as she isn’t uptight that day.  your creativity and attraction to the abstract gives her comfort: there aren’t many people in mondstadt who appreciate her profession, so even if you aren’t into the exact same things, she’ll at least know that there’s someone who looks forward to seeing her.

on his quest to “learn what being a human” is, zhongli encounters a myriad of occupations.  typically, the people of liyue are wound up with economics and realism, but your joy in the possibilities – how you can convey your emotions, through what mediums – of life has to offer reminds him of humanity.  with you, he’ll explore what mortals call “the small things” in life: akin to the spark of appreciation for flying lanterns, autumn-colored lights at night, feelings of wonder – that’s what you instill in him. 

hello!! id like a matchup please!! im an INTP-T and im Type 5,, im capricorn sun and libra moon. im a reserved person and kind of angry all the time,, and i get overwhelmed easily. im not that good with affection,, but me actually welcoming you into conversation or my room or smthn, or actually responding to you means something. im just scared to be open with affection because its always done me wrong in the past. anyways,, id like a platonic matchup and romantic matchup please!! thank u and congrats!!🥳🥳❤️❤️

hello,, im that Capricorn sun libra moon anon,,, very sorry to disturb you,,, but i didn’t mention what my vision would be!! i think id be pyro,, ive always been a bit cold or i usually shun people away,, so i think id be cryo!!!! or maybe hydro because im constantly having a mental breakdown LMAO(but i fr think id be cryo)

platonic match-up: sucrose.

while she’s constantly on-edge from work, sucrose will always make time to check on her dear friend.  after all, you do the same for her, even if you insist that you might not have the right words ready.  “partners in stress,” kaeya would teasingly dub the two of you as, but you don’t pay mind to him.  as quiet and reserved individuals, you find tranquility within each others’ company.  

romantic match-up: venti.

whimsical and regarded as a mere bard by most, venti puts up a convincing front.  but it’s just that: a front.  the real venti is concealed by a chipper voice and mercurial agenda, when underneath, there’s a solemn musician who’s burdened.  you’ll most likely be off-put by his facade, as he’s trained himself to constantly be lively – comes with being a performer – but will soon find that he understands your turmoil.  he’s not the best with sentimental words, but will instead convey his sympathies through strums of his lyre.  while it isn’t obvious that there’s security in freedom, he’ll be sure to encourage you that there’s a way.

Hello Al! For the match-up event would it be possible for me to ask for 1 romantic and 1 platonic? As for my MBTI I am an INFJ-T. As for the ennseagram I am 98% type five and 90% type 6. I am a Taurus sun and an Aquarius moon. I tend to come off as polite and often times a bit shy/reserved irl. I love learning new things. Conversations that have all parties thinking critically are definitely my favorites. My hobbies are writing, drawing, learning new things, reading, and playing video games. As for Genshin vision I'd have to say cryo. I've taken a quiz on quotev and got a tie between cryo and anemo. Cryo's description seemed to fit my personality better. I also seem to have a connection with the cold. Let me know if you need any more info. Remember to take care of yourself. ~Taylor💙

platonic match-up: albedo.

you both have your inquisitive sides, and albedo is more than willing to talk to you about his discoveries.  while he might not proactively reach out to you – more like, if you’re nearby, and he happens to catch you peeping at his work, he’ll engage with you.  he finds your takes thought-provoking and your candor respectful; a fellow of agreeable disposition, your calmness and supplementing nature also makes it easy for him to work.

romantic match-up: zhongli.

both intuitive and practical in your approaches, zhongli’s given a new perspective when you converse, or at least, a new thing to ponder over.  many regard him as stiff besides his gentlemanly disposition; your focused and insistent care will enrapture him as heartwarming, that there are “acceptable” vulnerabilities, but they’re not weak points at all – far from it.  your security and assuredness is harmonious with your emotion insight, making for a stable lifestyle that he easily molds into.  the conversations that the two of you engage in are nothing short of provocative.  just as much as he learns from you, he also provides with tales of the old days. 

Is - is the matchup thing still relevant? If not you can just ignore this message - its ok, i know ur busy :)

If it is still on tho, i wonder if i could get a platonic and romantic one?

Im a INFP-T(??), Type 4, pisces sun sag moon.

Im a dumb nerd with big glasses who loves t shirts with puns ot jokes on it. Im not sure about my hobbies, i just like anything that can make me think - memes, books, music, games with lore. I dont like boring, overly normal stuff. I have shitty sense of direction and i suck at math.

I think that my vision would be anemo since thats (i think) an element that requires both creativity and knowledge to work with, which is very special and interesting to me.

Thank you so much in advance! Or sorry if i sent this too late 😅

platonic match-up: xinyan.

both of you are free-flowing and seek excitement.  you’re the gasoline to xinyan’s match: you both feed off of each others’ knack for new things, stimuli, and the bold.  you could be walking down the streets of liyue, eating bags of mora meat, and then suddenly run down to the northern wharf to catch passing boats and playfully debate over which snobby aristocrat is being shipped off.  there’s never a dull moment between the two of you, and the plan is always no plan.  spontaneity is the name of the game, and it’s one that you can go at for ages. 

romantic match-up: beidou.

there’s hardly a moment to breathe on the crux fleet, that’s for sure.  be prepared to explore the entirety of teyvat with beidou, because she’s got you covered with all of your “new thing” needs, alongside your ocean-borne family.  she’ll find it humorous that you’re not practiced in navigation – ironic for a seafarer.  but steering is complex, and she’d gladly help you out in learning, just another thing to do in a day’s work. 

Hi! For the match up event, I'm 98% type 3 and a 97% type 7, I'm am Intp and my moon sign is scorpio, my sun sign is Pisces. I'm above than average in math and I like to draw from time to time, I've tried to learn the ukelele but ultimately failed. I'd like my vision to be an electro cause my fav color is purple and I like how the electricity sparks and stops my enemies, I'm also a fan fic writer and love manhwas

Hi! I'm the last anon that you reminded that should have put 2 romantic in the ask! Sorry about that, it just completely flew over my head

romantic match-ups: ningguang and childe/tartaglia.

your ambition knows no bounds, and your drive is a force to be reckoned with.  some may call your approaches headstrong, but your ability to take initiative is something that ningguang greatly admires.  it’s something she professes that you two have in common – granted, even if her economic tendencies are more cutthroat.  while the two of you have incredibly firm opinions that might send shocks across the room you’re debating in, ningguang trusts your rational thought and explorative mindset.  your like-mindedness, in this instance, brings great relief to her in her position.

childe is also someone who would take interest in you.  he’s not one for schemes like the rest of the harbingers, and would appreciate your straightforward approaches and the focused energy you put into each project/obstacle you face.  it makes it easier for him to speak his mind, and he’ll find comradery with you fairly easy to come by.  gradually, the zeal the two of you share can draw you into more adventures, and he’ll have someone he can call a trustworthy partner. 

Hello! For your generous match-up event, could I request two romantic matches please? My MBTI type is INFP and my enneagram type is four. My sun sign is Aries and my moon is Gemini. I am a quiet but curious person who can be really flirty and sarcastic in private. I am very caring to those I love. My hobbies including writing and drawing. For my vision, I think I would be cryo? I’m a secretive person who has trust issues and can be cruel. I love your blog, you’re so skilled! Thank you so much!

romantic match-ups: kaeya and jean.

you’re a trusted soul by all, even if many also regard you as reserved.  kaeya isn’t one to grow attached (it’s hindered him in the past), however after being paired with you on multiple missions, he’ll feel more at ease around you due to your good nature.  your duality is also a breath of fresh air, and each time he talks to you afterwards, he’s reminded that there are individuals who have others’ best interests at heart.  many knights will catch the two of you tossing jokes back and forth at each other, but for once, kaeya isn’t trying to swindle anybody. 

the acting grand master has a lot on her plate, but she finds that when she’s in your company, the tray is a little lighter.  she relates to your sincerity and good intentions, a welcome refresher in the world of forced diplomacy and tedious hours.  you also seem to know just the right things to say to lighten the mood, with a cute smile to top it all off. 

hello! Could I request 2 romantic match-up? I'm ENFP, enneagram 2w3. Sun Sagittarius, Moon Scorpio, Asc. Virgo. My hobbies consist of anything generally creative, gaming/anime, hanging out with friends esp!! I'm the type of person to show affection by physical touch and by gentle ribbing-- I love making other people laugh. I'm always down to do things, new or not, and an honest and easy-going person. My Vision would be Geo bc I think it reflects how I am as a person-- stable n loyal :) thank u!!

romantic match-ups: venti and beidou. 

no one would’ve thought that you and venti would be a pair – then again, when they consider your tendencies for jokes and charisma, it’ll all come together.  wherever the two of you go, laughter follows, like dandelions in the breeze.  venti hits it off with you almost immediately after you meet, your natural social nature enabling easy conversation.  you’re also very zealous with topics that pique your interest.  it’s a genuine, eager curiosity that he can’t help but consider endearing.

the two of you are always searching for new things, be it small islands in the horizon or neat little specialties that you manage to catch in the corner of your eye.  there’s never a dull moment when the two of you get going on ideas, and while you may be the more rational, beidou will always insist on adding some more “zest” into whatever you come up with.  if you push her, she might accidentally shove you off the boat with the playful enthusiasm of a golden retriever. 

Hiya~! Thank you both for doing this! For the character match-up, I'd like to request two (2) Romantic please lmao, with a side of French fries.

I'm an INFP, Libra sun/Scorpio moon. My external personality might lead ppl to think I'm a charismatic extrovert, but that's the face I show for the 5 whole minutes I'm socializing, and then return to my introvert turtle shell for the next week. I cycle through hobbies since I get bored quickly, but I always come back to music since singing is my passion. I know for sure my Vision would be Anemo bc I need to be free to feel comfortable and tend to react rather aggressively when I feel restrained 🤔

I'm deeply emotional, sometimes impulsive, and dislike relying on others. I tend to be cat-like in my affections... sometimes I Love, other times Do Not Want. Except for animals, they always get my love ❤ ehehe....

romantic match-ups: mona and kaeya.

mona considers your nature incredibly easy to grasp.  but don’t take it as an insult or offense – in fact, your simplicity is a constant in mona’s life: you like time to yourself, and when you’re alone is when your energy comes out.  she doesn’t have to worry about reading too much into your feelings when she can see that you’re independent.  your interactions are calm and reassuring; she doesn’t have to be uptight around you, because she knows you trust in her abilities and lifestyle, and security with herself and those she cares about is her top priority. 

kaeya’s able to relate to your social tendencies.  there’s a front that he puts up in front of his colleagues (purely for professional purposes) before reverting back to his natural state of mind.  he finds your distance understandable, and considers it something the two of you have in common.  when you talk one-on-one, it’s easy to bounce ideas off of each other about mondstadtian culture and other topics of interest; while your independent natures may lead to some time apart, there will always be fresh experiences waiting when you do meet again.

[purplerose244]

Winter Wonder

Hello there! Here’s my gift for the Lukadrien Winter Gift Exchange!! Thank you so much @lukadrien-winter for organizing the event, I really liked writing this one! This is for Zane_is_not_on_fire on Instagram, I hope you like it! 💜

Summary: One would think that, at least for Christmas, there wouldn't be any major unexpected and possibly dangerous events occurring in the life of a random civilian such as Adrien Agreste. Wishful thinking of course. Does the blonde mind? Not in the slightest.

Also on the AO3

Adrien was starting to see a pattern.

Despite trying to live a normal life at the expense of his father’s passion at keeping him locked into that crystal cage he happened to call home, ever since the Stoneheart incident that had shaken all of Paris – the one that had welcomed the city’s new beloved superheroes, Ladybug and the amazing Viperion… no favorites of course –, Adrien had gotten involved into this brand-new supernatural affair way more than he would had expected.

These akumas, that was what they were called? Were apparently people overwhelmed by bad emotions; controlled by a sad excuse of a man under the villain identity of Hawkmoth. And apparently, a good chunk of these extremely upsetting feelings was owed to the same blonde model whose face was plastered all over the city.

Bubbler? That guy Nino he had met once during his one and only day in a normal school, that had tried to throw him a birthday party – yeah he was awesome like that. Volpina? That girl Lila did not like how he had seemed way more interested in superheroes instead of her. Copycat? A sculptor in love with Ladybug that had wanted to put him into troubles after getting into a little embarrassing argument, something about Viperion not being tall enough in the statue – yeah, bad like that.

It was a mess every time it happened. Routine broken, city in panic, getting kidnapped by a rush of wind in his room, those kinds of things. But there was still a little positive aspect about these troubles, something that even right now, while hanging on the top of Le Grand Paris luxury hotel all tied up like a damsel in distress, he couldn’t help but enjoy.

It was one of the few chances he had to go outside. No homeschooling, no loneliness, no awkward solitary meals. Just him, the chilling air of winter, the Christmas concert getting evacuated under his eyes, and this overwhelming feeling of freedom.

“Ladybug, Viperion, you’ve finally arrived!” And a villain, of course, he almost forgot about the villain. With his flamboyant white appearance and the frozen tears on his cheeks, he looked like a theatre kid ready to deliver his monologue. “I am Frozen King, here to bring you the eternal winter, so you will all feel as miserable as I do!” And just as dramatically as one would have expected, he raised his arms to the night sky. “My friends will talk to me again, my parents will stop arguing, and I will finally watch Kitty Section play with Adrien in it, just how I wanted it!” Ah, here he had hoped at this point he had nothing to do with this. Being famous was really frustrating sometimes… most of the time… pretty much all the time.

Ladybug and Viperion were standing right in front of them. If it hadn’t been for the tense situation and this ferocious wind that made sitting on a rooftop even more unsteady than it already was, Adrien would have appreciated how the snake superhero’s suit was brightening up, covered in sweet white snowflakes.

“Frozen King, let go of him this instant!” Ladybug said with her yoyo out, a glare on her face that screamed confidence. “We understand that you’re hurt, but this isn’t the way to solve anything! If you give up now, we won’t attack you! But you must stop!” A rushed wind blew in her face.

“Shut up! I don’t care! This is who I am now, and you will all feel like me!”

Ladybug blinked, frost on her eyelashes, turning towards her partner.

“Told you diplomacy wasn’t going to work. Diplomacy never works.”

“Give me a break LB, if I don’t know if they can be saved, I wasn’t gonna let them get pummeled to the ground.” Viperion shined a grin towards her, holding out his harp with a sharp look into his eyes. “I’m sorry my friend, but we can’t let you do this. I happen to know a certain captain that wouldn’t be very excited knowing the entire Seine has turned into ice.” His smile fell when his eyes lingered over Adrien, and the blonde felt his entire body shiver. The cold had nothing to do with it. “Also, I don’t and will never condone the kidnapping of a fellow musician. Especially a pianist as good as him.” Holy cow, he knew him and his music and Kitty Section and he knew HIM. “One last warning, your highness. Let. Him. Go.”

Huh. Weird. Viperion was notoriously bad at talking, that was why pep talks and speeches were usually Ladybug’s thing. Today he looked a little more focused. More than Adrien at least, between his hero, a villain, and the wind that was getting even stronger.

It was actually starting to push him. He quickly pointed his feet down.

Frozen King didn’t seem to notice.

“Stop telling me what to do, stop assuming you’re sorry for me! If you were, none of this would’ve happened!” He screamed, more tears fell and froze, and an absolute cyclone of ice manifested all around him. “I deserve something good in my life, I do!! And if no one will give it to me, I will take it myself!!” He jumped towards the two superheroes, agitating a long whip that looked suspiciously like a very long ticket.

The thought should had given the blonde some kind of clue as to how to defeat this guy. He could at least give these heroes half a hand. Then again, he was a little more worried about the fact that he couldn’t feel the roof underneath him anymore. Adrien gasped when he realized he was floating midair because of the tornado and tried to push himself down. But then the clash between titans was happening nearby, and the winds reacted to their leader’s distress. Like an earthquake in the air, Adrien felt himself being shaken and turned, until his body was pushed a little too close to the edge of the roof. With that saying, way over the edge.

He had fallen off a building before. A ridiculous number of times even, especially considering he was a secluded kid, that was just what Paris was like lately. But it wasn’t exactly something you get used to, so the scream came on its own. The cold air rushed as hard as ever. Adrien closed his eyes, dreading the impact. Fear prevailed; regrets took over. What of his father? What of the band? What of his friends? What of his life?

What of his Luka?

The wind stopped for half a second before returning, and Adrien landed on the soft snow underneath. He shily opened one eyes, looking around. There was a white road covered in snow to catch his fall, soft and cold. And there was one superhero wrapped around him, soft and warm.

… Wait.

“Are you okay, Adrien?” Viperion looked up at him, hair riled up, eyes still widened and lovely and- did he just jump from a building to catch him?!

Adrien gaped for half a second, having to remind himself how to speak words.

“Yes- No- I mean-! I-I’m fine.” The snake superhero smiled warm enough to melt the snow.

“Good.” He shamelessly wrapped his arms around him once again, melting him. “I would hate to lose such a bright and talented person.” The line felt joking, his tone was anything but. If Adrien had ignored how his own body was involuntarily shaking, he could’ve felt him trembling as well, hard, like he was catching his breath after one big scare.

Which had been falling. It had been falling, right?

Adrien swallowed before tentatively hugging back, feeling the fainted sigh of relief coming from him. This was surreal. It felt comfortable and warm and so, so surreal.

“You saved me.”

“It’s kind of my job, yes.”

“You just fell off a-”

“You did too, at least I have superpowers to protect me.”

“Is one of them making decisions in cold blood?” He really couldn’t help that one, and he felt oddly proud of himself when Viperion let out a laugh. Maybe because of the adrenaline, that line made some kind of sense.

“… Thank you.” The snake superhero nodded, backing away with his hands over his shoulders before finally going over the rope all around him. He got up after untying the knot, helping him stand up with a hard pull – that just added consistency to his fantasies about just how strong he was under the costume.

On the roof, Ladybug was taking care of Frozen King pretty smoothly. Viperion gave the scene a quick look, grinning.

“Good, she’s got this. We got the plan down before arriving, and now that we have time, I have to get you somewhere safe.” He extended a hand towards him. “Come here, let’s go.” Weird, Adrien’s daydreaming was a little too vivid today, to the point he could actually hear it. And see it. And touch it- holy everything it was actually real.

“… Huh?” Viperion laughed. Again, that wonderful sound.

“Frozen King is kind of obsessed with you, so we better go somewhere else for a little while. Don’t worry, when everything is over, I’ll make sure you get back home safe and sound.” Everything had sounded very appealing to Adrien until that very last part. Then again this guy didn’t have to know. “So, you ready?” Never mind this, never mind his heart screaming yes even before he managed to grab the hero’s hand.

“Of course.” It was rough yet warm, despite the scaley appearance. He didn’t have the time to marvel at the discovery that he was pulled forward, right onto the firm chest of the hero, who looked extremely satisfied by his decision.

Adrien felt just as accomplished right now. And hot. So hot, was it actually winter?

Viperion smirked at him.

“Here we go.” He shot him a wink and picked him up effortlessly, an arm under his knees and another behind his should- okay his daydreaming was getting very intense right now. “Hold on tight.” Oh well, who was he to contradict a real-life superhero and not pull his arms around his neck to get dragged to some mysterious unknown place. That was always going to be a better Christmas than the one that was not waiting for him at home.

Nobody, absolutely nobody.

Adrien bit down a grin, he held on perhaps a little tighter than needed – all for safety reasons of course, heh heh –, and nodded, welcoming that blossoming feeling of happiness inside of his chest with wide arms.

It probably should have not been this satisfying taking flight, hoping to stay away from his own house as much as possible. Yet even in the embrace of the chilling cold Adrien found himself impossibly relieved. His mind filled with light after a day spent hoping and glooming.

Viperion jumped right onto a nearby building, running over the rooftops effortlessly, and the blonde could barely take in the sights around him. Paris shone with infinite lights and colors. Snow covering the city with wonder. Being here, right here, away and free, was like a shiver and a tickle cold and warm, confusing and exciting and so very real.

It didn’t last for long. The next thing he knew they were falling in a perfectly controlled direction, landing onto the ground in front of a familiar looking bakery. Finally, the hero put him down. Finally, and sadly. Adrien had to held back a sigh of disappointment, that vanished when Viperion’s beautiful laugh shook him again.

Without even realizing the blonde grinned back.

“What?” The superhero covered his mouth, shaking his head, eyes on his head? “… Is it my hair? Right, it’s probably super messy.” He could almost hear the synchronized choir of despair from all the hairdressers from his photoshoots. He reached up to fix his hair.

“Oh don’t, you look good.” Viperion grinned, tilting his head as to give him a good glance. “It actually suits you; you look rebellious. You should try it more often.” All of the sudden Adrien had the impellent urge to take all of his goody two shoes appearance that got him so far into the fashion world and toss it forever under the sea. For no reason at all.

Adrien curled one of his locks around his finger, feeling his face warm. So very warm.

“I don’t usually jump over buildings with a superhero.”

“That can change.” This guy seemed to love to aliment his imagination, especially by implying that this wasn’t meant to be a one-time thing. That sneaky snake. “Alright, I know that the Dupain-Chengs won’t have a problem keeping you hidden until it’s safe. After everything is solved they can call someone for you, a friend maybe.” Oh. He was grateful that he didn’t mention his parents, but that felt like a line a little too calculated. Like he knew. Weird. “So, you can get home safe and sound as soon as possible. How about that?”

He blamed the cold, the chill in his bones and the freezing atmosphere that he was sure was waiting for him at home, but Adrien couldn’t pull up the usual perfect mask of a smile, sighing deeply, feeling that this, like everything else, was only temporarily.

“I’m not really in a hurry.” Despite that, he tried to force a grin. “I, um… we’re not that festive, so there’s not exactly a whole Christmas party waiting for me at home.”

Viperion froze. Sincerely taken back. That was an unusual look on him.

“I… I thought you weren’t at the concert because you were celebrating with your dad.”

“I mean, he did get me a present. A whole box, actually.” The blonde hesitated for a second, suddenly self-conscious about it. “Chinese books, a bunch of musical sheets, volumes filled with France’s history, oh and Tomoe Tsurugi’s ‘Art of the sword’,” He grimaced the ghost of a smile. “Which is pretty cool… it probably would have been better if it wasn’t filled with notes on how to improve my form, but still.” Alas, the need to cover his father’s actions was stronger than him at this point.

Viperion blinked, looking more and more upset. That was a bad look on him.

“What about the rest? Family dinner? Decorations? Christmas activities, you know that stuff. I can see you playing Christmas carols with the piano.” That did sound lovely, so Adrien simply shrugged with a little grimace on his face. That apparently didn’t sit right with him. “… Wait here.”

As fast as ever Viperion went inside the bakery, too quick for Adrien to break from his trance and follow him – maybe he needed to take fencing classes with superheroes, just to learn about that kind of speed and reflexes. It barely mattered since the superhero reappeared after only a minute, holding a little package with a bow on it and a cute little reindeer plush with a red nose and freckles. “It’s not exactly a full Christmas party, but at least it’s… sweet?” It was a box of gingerbread cookies, neatly positioned inside a Christmas themed package. “You deserve a bit of joy, you know.” His eyes were sincere, his actions too.

It took everything inside of Adrien not to tear up. He swallowed a sudden lump of emotions building up, taking the present, and smiling with everything he had.

“Thank you.” He whispered gratefully. Adrien peaked over at the window, noticing the owners of the bakery all giddy and excited, making him laugh. “You went in and out pretty quickly, I thought you were going to get stopped by your Fanclub or something.”

Viperion snickered, leading him near the building, out of sight from Frozen King.

“My Fanclub is nowhere near as big as Ladybug’s, nor as passionate.” Adrien begged to differ. Superfluous stating that the superhero was in presence of an honorary admirer of his.

After pausing for a moment, Viperion spoke up, “Did your father ask you to skip the concert?” Oh. That question was so sudden it left him speechless for a second. The blonde couldn’t help the sudden shiver as he nodded. “You know you should say no sometimes, right? You don’t have to agree with him every time just because he’s your father. You’re your own person.” That was such a standard line, he had heard it many times before. From Kagami, to Ivan, to Juleka – yeah, even Juleka found the voice to tell him, that said something about the truth of it –, to Rose, to…

Adrien smiled sadly, sighing.

“My friend Luka reminds me that all the time, more than anyone else.” Thinking about him right now filled him with the usual giddiness, mixed with guilt. “… He must really despise me right now.” Was that a gasp from the hero? Hard to tell, he was fantasizing a lot today.

“Why would you think that?”

“He didn’t respond to my messages at all after I flaked out on him.”

“I’m sure he was just busy, between all the people he had to entertain and the sudden akuma attack.” Adrien was sure his face told it all, and Viperion quickly smiled at him, hands raised. “It’s fine, all of the members of Kitty Section are perfectly safe and evacuated.” Adrien let out the longest sigh in his life. “I’m sure your friend didn’t call because of that. I bet he’s worried about you as much as you are about him.” That voice of his would have made him believe in anything.

Adrien let his eyes fall onto the box, thinking of his phone he left at home after getting kidnapped. Thinking of the charming guitarist he hadn’t been able to see tonight.

“I hope so. The last thing I want is for him to hate me.”

“Hey, he would never. Maybe he was angry, a little disappointed, but I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” Viperion smiled at him, with so much endearment into his eyes it was hard to watch. “You’re impossible to hate.” There was really no bound on how magically unbelievable this moment was. “Besides, is it really that important what this guy thinks of you?”

“Absolutely.” Without missing a beat his words erupted, and Adrien felt warm all over again. Because he was saying this to the superhero he was so starstruck with. Because this night was already different from what he would have expected. Because everything was still so new about the world outside his mansion, but only one thing could make his heart race as it was now. “I really wanted to spend Christmas with Kitty Section… to spend it with him. Luka is special like that for me.” It came out more smoothly than he thought. His feelings were always confusing, talking barely helped. But it was Christmas and he was away from home and he didn’t want to think for once.

It felt surreal nonetheless. Like Viperion’s uncharacteristically shocked face, for the second time in that same night.

“… Really?” His voice lost all of his low tune, turning into the sweetest, most hopeful sound. Still as vibrant as the ocean. Bright as shimmering stars.

Adrien could only nod, charmed by him.

But distracted by someone else.

“I guess my heart knows better than me? I can’t lie to myself, I’m just a little slow at realizing what I want. And I think I finally got it.” He smiled, mindlessly tapping the box. “I like his rebellious look while also being the calmest and most controlled person I know. I like the way he sings for me whenever I’m feeling sad without me even asking for it. I like the absolute nonchalance when he asks me to skip fencing practice to come and play with the band… I like him, a lot.” He couldn’t feel the cold anymore. But he could, in fact, feel the superhero’s eyes absolutely glued on him. Making him realize the sudden reveal out of nowhere. “Ah, uhm, sorry.” He didn’t regret it. And for some reason that felt even right. “I-I don’t know why I told you all that.”

Viperion seemed to be having none of his uncertainty. He instead leaned towards him, eyes too intense to look at, and Adrien became increasingly aware of his pink lips cracked by the cold. He pushed away the thought, because it wasn’t right. He was enchanted by this superhero because of that, he was a superhero. That was it, the blonde’s heart belonged elsewhere. Yet…

“How long have you been feeling like this?” There was something different in his voice. Like he lost all the willpower to make it look mightier and superhero-like.

Adrien swallowed, eyes dropping on his red cold hands.

“Maybe… maybe ever since we first met? It was also the first time I’ve managed to ditch my schedule, because I really wanted to see the Music Festival. I stumbled onto his ship after I heard awesome music. I tripped, he helped me up, and all of the sudden I was in his band.” He giggled, feeling hotter and hotter. “He welcomed me like it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing to me. I’m sure I wasn’t completely gone back then, but it was a start. It just got stronger and stronger from there.” Viperion’s eyes were getting piercing. Oppressing even, to the point he felt scared to look up. “I… I’m sure you understand but just to be sure… can you keep the secret?” He snickered nervously, moving his fingers. It hurt, they were cold.

Viperion gently took the box from his hands, gingerly putting it down on the ground, before taking his hands together before Adrien could even think of an annoyed reply. Adrien couldn’t help shaking madly, a sudden feeling overwhelming the cold. Those eyes were getting absolutely impossible to ignore, but he couldn’t look up. He was irrationally scared, he couldn’t move.

Viperion was close, so close he heard the smile curving his lips.

“Cold?” The blonde barely managed a weak nod. “I can help you with that. Close your eyes.” A questioning noise was all that came out of him. “Don’t worry. Please, close your eyes for me.” His words turned into the sweetest request and Adrien found it absolutely impossible to deny it. He closed his eyes, swallowing, feeling the hold leaving him. “Sass, scales rest.” A sudden light drew a purple spot on his black sight. Magic? Superhero stuff? All he heard was the guy in front of him moving a little. All he felt was something incredibly warm and soft slipping into his hands, two gloves a little too big for him but wonderfully welcoming.

Viperion grabbed his hands again, rubbing them with his thumbs. The numb cold covering was melting down, a sign of relief grew onto the blonde’s lips. Only to stop midway when he felt a warm breath on them.

This moment, this entire night really was unreal. Adrien embraced the entirety of it, sinking further into this kiss in a dreamy sigh. Soft. Everything was so soft about this guy, like he had been made to sooth and welcome everyone that came in contact with him. It irritated him a little. Because he wanted this for himself, he wanted to be the only one to hold this harshly onto his hands, the only one to know how gentle and reckless he could be on a random Christmas night.

It was his first kiss, of course it was. And of course, after a time that was in any case way shorter than he would have liked, he was already out of breath. When they parted he perhaps sighed a little too strongly against the other’s mouth, cold air filling his lungs. The sudden chilling sensation awakened his senses, making him suddenly aware of the long fingers curled around his, the softest familiar laugh in front of him, and the faint yet absolutely evident scent of moss and kindness lingering under his nose. A little above where he had been kissed.

Another wave of warmth almost made him gasp, and Adrien beamed with his eyes still closed.

“You…?” Another peck shut him up, making him hum in delight.

“Merry Christmas, Adrien.” There was happiness into this voice, pure and breathtaking, followed by the quickest footsteps that soon got lost into the random noise of the night. And only then, when there was clearly no one waiting in front of him, the blonde opened his eyes.

He looked down. So caught up in the moment, he hadn’t realized that into his warm hands, wrapped up around very familiar looking black gloves, the box of cookies had been put back. Along with a neat paper, with a little yellow bow on the corner. A sheet. A song, with a title.

‘Sunshine’.

Adrien grinned, tears burning into his eyes. So much happiness it was too much. It was new, overwhelming. He wanted to know everything about it.

“Merry Christmas, Luka.”

[morethanaprincess-a]

As they’ve started to become relevant in a few verses and threads, I wanted to write a little bit about some of Sonia’s extended family. Thus, here is some information about His Royal Highness Prince Arthur, Duke of Neuchatel (King Alexandre’s brother and only sibling, and Sonia’s uncle) and his family.

Note: Each member of this family is referred to as “His/Her Royal Highness” or “Your Highness,” despite Arthur and Olivia being the Duke and Duchess of Neuchatel. Because they are the sole Royal Duke and Duchess (with their titles granted to them upon marriage by the former King), they are addressed as Royal Highnesses as opposed to “Your Grace,” which is how other Dukes and Duchesses within Novoselic would be spoken of and to, if a servant or commoner is addressing them (at parties, or among those in the aristocracy, they are referred to as ‘Duke’ or ‘Duchess.’ No, it makes little sense and yes, it’s a lot to learn if your muse ends up working for/with Sonia in the Royal Family or your muse plans to marry her).

Everything is under the cut, as it’s pretty long!

His Royal Highness, the Duke of Neuchatel - Also known as Arthur, Duke of Neuchatel or informally as Arthur Nevermind (his last name, like his brother King Alexandre and his niece Princess Sonia, comes from their Royal House), he is King Alexandre’s only sibling. Born two years after his brother, Arthur proved himself to be charming and charismatic at a young age. Where Alexandre was thoughtful, introspective, and considerate, Arthur was bold and captivating. He loves a healthy competition no matter where it’s found, but he still grumbles that his brother still bests him in chess. His hobbies included shooting, skiing, and, to his mother’s dismay, gambling.

Despite being ‘the spare,’ Arthur relishes in being in charge, delivering orders and having his plans executed perfectly. It made him an ideal football captain in school as well as a member of the In Utero Student Council during his final two years of high school (he chose which events he wished to engage with. They were few and far-between). He consistently received the fastest training times throughout his military training, from obstacle courses to rope climbs to assembling firearms to driving tanks. His eagerness to guide others to victory made him an asset in the Novoselic Royal Army, where he completed his obligatory two years. He married Lady Olivia, daughter of the Duke of Vaud, two years after the Royal Wedding of-then Prince Alexandre, heir to the throne, and Lady Valentina, daughter of the Duke of Ticino.

Now, he is a full-time working royal for the Novoselic Royal Family with charitable interests in war veterans and science/technology. He’s an avid fan of the national football team, luxury fashion, wine, and his collection of rare watches and sportscars. He attends every Monaco Grand Prix and keeps a yacht on the French Riviera (which, on occasion, he’ll invite his wife along. This is not a frequent occurrence). 

Before Sonia comes of age and graduates university, he is the one fulfilling many of King Alexandre’s international obligations, so he is often away from home. He prefers to travel in style (or rather, he prefers to have his entire life to be lived ‘in style.’).

Her Royal Highness, the Duchess of Neuchatel - Also known as Olivia, Duchess of Neuchatel or informally as Olivia Nevermind, is the wife of the Duke of Neuchatel and Sonia’s aunt. A bit shorter and fuller in the bust than her sister-in-law Queen Valentina, Olivia could be best described as ‘meek and mousy.’ While the King and Duke have golden hair and blue eyes, and the Queen with her platinum hair and green eyes, Olivia still retains the expected (if not requisite) blonde hair of the Royal Family, though hers is a mix of dirty and ash blonde. She has round brown eyes that can make her look permanently surprised if she’s not in control of her emotions.

Olivia is a gentle, soft-spoken woman whom, since birth, has been raised to take her place in Novoselic’s aristocracy. As a child, she loved embroidery, piano, and ballet, but was forced to give up the sport after her teachers insisted she was ‘too chubby’ to continue. From then on, she took up tennis and gardening as hobbies, with the latter carrying on well into her adult life. After marrying Prince Arthur and becoming the Duchess of Neuchatel, Olivia’s interests are, first and foremost, their two children and raising them to be the future Duke of Neuchatel and members of the Novoselic aristocracy.

She spends far more time at home than her husband, though she participates in every official engagement and function the Royal Family asks of her. She is a popular choice to be featured in documentaries and interviews, such as recorded tours around various Royal estates. Her philanthropic efforts are focused mainly around agriculture, animal conservation, horticulture, and children’s charities, and when she becomes of age, Princess Sonia and her aunt often share the duties for animal conservatory and children’s charity efforts.

While she does eat meat, she eats very little of it and tends to choose more fish and plant-based meals. She supports organic farming and hydroponics, and is the host of the annual Novosonian flower show. When she is able to go and invited, she loves to attend Wimbledon.

His Royal Highness, Prince Liam of Neuchatel - Also known as Liam, Prince of Neuchatel or Liam Nevermind, he is Sonia’s eldest cousin on her father’s side and four years younger than she is. A bit taller than his cousin and far more muscular (if not stocky), Liam is brash, loud, and generally unafraid to speak his mind in most matters. If there’s quips being slung in the Royal Family, he’s one of three possible suspects (the others are Queen Valentina and Prince Arthur).

Liam likes to be active and to have a good time, or a good laugh. During Princess Sonia’s first year attending the annual Masquerade Ball, he and some school friends from In Utero Primary School let loose a flock of makango into the ballroom, causing a great uproar when the animals took a dip in the champagne and chocolate fountains and scurried up skirts and trouser legs. Since then, Queen Valentina tends to frown whenever he’s discussed.

He’s not the biggest fan of school, though he has some talent for mathematics and statistics. Languages, literature, and history tend to put him to sleep. What he does like is physical fitness and sports, and won’t hesitate to try most athletics (ballroom dancing, and most types of dancing, are exempt. He hates these). He is primarily a polo and rugby player, but he enjoys football as well and likes to watch boxing and racing. Like his father, he enjoys being part of a sports team, though not necessarily leading it.

Upon graduation, he elects to attend university (or rather, his father tells him he’ll be going) and fulfill his obligatory military service during the school holidays (mostly so he doesn’t become mixed up in his usual partying crowd). While he wanted to be properly deployed, most of his military responsibilities involve defense, particularly at the Novoselic border. He’s frustrated by this and finds it difficult to focus, so during his holidays he’s often found in Spain or Greece, wherever the it-crowd has designated the coolest spot to see and be seen. And like his father, he quite likes luxury goods, expensive liquor, and sports cars. He’s also known to be quite handsome, with his mother’s ash blonde hair and his father’s blue eyes (otherwise known as the ‘Nevermind Blue.’ Sonia’s father, uncle, and Sonia herself all have them, as well as Liam). 

Generally, if anyone’s going to appear in the tabloids, it’s usually Liam, and the Royal Family’s PR team has quite a job making sure anything incriminating never sees the light of day (or the light of a screen). His parents wish he’d settle down and actually have a real, meaningful relationship (that looks good in the eyes of the press and the people), but there’s no one special in his life. His charitable interests involve fitness and sports organizations, and he’s present at as many matches as he can. He loves when he’s sent to the Olympic Games to represent his country in the audience and in interviews.

His Royal Highness, Prince Samuel of Neuchatel - Also known as Samuel, Prince of Neuchatel or Samuel Nevermind, is the brother of Liam and Sonia’s cousin. He is two years younger than his brother and six years younger than Sonia. Where Liam is muscular, Samuel is not: however, he’s a good four inches taller than his brother, with long, golden hair (which he usually keeps tied back) and brown eyes (his mother’s). Samuel was one of the earliest targets of Liam’s jokes and jabs, and therefore he’s a bit quieter and considerate when it comes to his comments. Thoughtful and polite, he’s the ‘spare’ of the family and his parents worried he would grow up with a very thin skin. He didn’t take to athletics or military training nearly as easily as his brother Liam (though he took to video games: they bond over Mario Kart and Smash. It was a harrowing moment in Liam’s life the first time Samuel beat him at both). 

Samuel is also an excellent student: history and art are his favorite subjects, though he gets exemplary grades in everything at In Utero. His hobbies and passions include visual art (he likes to sketch and paint) and playing the violin, and during the summer months he enjoys fishing. He’s very well-read and enjoys attending theatrical and musical productions as part of the Royal Family. Several of his drawings have been framed by his mother or King Alexandre and displayed in various Royal homes. He’d love to have something hung (besides a portrait of himself) in the National Gallery one day.

Upon graduation, he both chooses to attend University (seriously, he couldn’t get there fast enough) and to serve in the armed forces by joining the Novoselic Royal Air Force. Thus, he learned to both drive a tank and fly a plane before he could drive a car. Samuel loves flying for both work and fun, deeming the air to be the only place his family can’t chide or tease him. After his obligatory service, the Royal Family keeps a small, private plane for his singular use.

As he will not inherit the Dukedom (that will go to Liam), Samuel is both career-minded and a full-time working Royal. His charity work and proposed policies revolve around the arts, from new museums to theaters and productions to educational and grant opportunities. He is always working to add more cultural exhibits to every city and town in Novoselic. 

It is often said by the press and public alike that Samuel acts more like they’d expect from the future Duke than Liam, a comment that never fails to upset the entire family. 

[feymaid]

can i get a shitpost of ur DA2 fam? i am bummed out that no one is critical of characters anymore n i need a pick-me-up... :(

OF COURSE!!!! Thank u for asking ;o; (These got a bit longer than the last oop)

1) Luanna Hawke (Uli’s Aeducan’s world-state) ~

She was my first Hawke! She has a primarily purple/blue personality. 

. She worked as a mercenary during her first year in Kirkwall! Luanna gets a whole lot stronger and develops a thicker skin when working with him since she is a very emotional person. Her emotions don’t go away, but she learns how to better mask her emotions with humor to cope. She was extremely close with Bethany, much more so than Carver. Since both her and Bethany were mages, they often trained together, and Luanna was prone to leaving Carver out of her life. She still loved him dearly but it wasn’t until Bethany died and Luanna realized that Carver’s anger towards her felt justified. This was devastating to her and she tried everything she could to get the two of them to be closer, including taking him to the Deep Roads. Carver became a Grey Warden thankfully, but it was very hard for her to see him go. She romanced Fenris! She was drawn to him because Luanna’s self-confidence and will to better herself was extremely low when they met. She found his drive and passion to just get things done extremely admirable and found herself trying to mimic his strength.  She fought the Arishock for Isabela. Isabela is her best friend next to Varric and there was no way she’d let her be taken away. She faced death in that fight when she was stabbed through the stomach. Anders was able to save her but she was permanently scarred. She supported the mages! But did not support Ander’s decision to blow up the Chantry. Despite being a mage, Luanna is Andrastian and was very good friends with Sebastian. However, due to the fact that she and Anders were good friends throughout the game, she couldn’t find it in her heart to kill him. She survives the fade and goes on to have two kiddos.

2) Alphonsa Hawke (Dakila’s Word-State) ~

- Primarily Red but occasionally diplomatic personality.

Alphonsa is my weirdo meanie Hawke who has a bit of an awkward streak but through all of the bullshit, truly means well. She also doesn’t look as clean as she does in the drawing above, often resorting to a terrible hand-cut bowl she does with a pocket knife. She’s pretty quiet and introverted, not ever wanting to grand-stand or stand out. She’s a blood mage too so she wants to fly under the radar as much and hates the attention being champion gives her. With her companions, she has a slower start to forming bonds with them, but eventually considers most of them her friends. She actually ends up marrying Sebastian. So. It’s no secret that the Sebastian romance in DA2 is lacking in content in comparison to the other companions, so a lot of this is my own interpretation of events sprinkled with the canon in-game stuff. Alfie loves Sebastian because he is literally just a good-hearted, kind person. Alfie was never seriously religious. She’s one of those who believe that IF there is a Maker, he has “abandoned his creation la dee da.” She has never really allowed herself to be taken care of. And despite Alfie’s naturally pessimistic attitude, she does try. She wants to be a good person but her anger often times envelopes her when she sees a simple solution to a problem. She’s impatient and needlessly cruel at times. But she is self-aware in her anger, which makes her resent herself a bit. With Sebastian, she actively avoids him at first because the sort of compassion he offers is so alien to her, and how open he is about his heartbreak with his family’s deaths gets under her skin. Long story short, (I have like an essay tucked away about their relationship in general) The two bond over the mutual feeling of the deaths of their families. And they fall in love and get married!!  Alfie isn’t all that upset that the marriage is chaste since she is just so dumb-struck that someone loves her! Act 3 Al is sooo much happier and softer. She grows her hair out and starts taking better care of herself. THEN the chantry explosion happens and her whole world falls apart again. The Chantry represented so much for her. It was her place of healing and peace when she felt alone. It was even more so for Sebastian. In my canon too, Sebastian wasn’t with her when the Chantry exploded. So for one awful moment, she thinks he’s dead. Alfie doesn’t even give Anders a chance to speak. She just beats the absolute SHIT out of him fully intending to beat him to death. And she doesn’t stop until Sebastian literally pulls her off of him. She kills Anders despite supporting the mages. Sebastian drags her off to Starkhaven soon after and she’s glad to go. She has three boys parallel to Sebastian and his brothers for fun.  

Ezekiel Hawke (Marie’s World-state) ~ 

- Red personality. 

Ez is my rouge red Hawke and was a character I made to see how evil I could be in a game since I personally find it really hard to be mean to even video game characters. Ez was a very sickly child and was often bedridden. Throughout his life, his family never knew what exactly was causing him so much pain so the illness remained. When Malcolm died, Ez felt like he hadn’t even known his father, he had spent most of his time training with Bethany and Carver while he had been left to lie in agony. Being the oldest boy in the family, he was pleased to be the head of it and would work tirelessly to improve his strength so that he could walk without fainting. When Ez turned eighteen, he decided to do something about the sickness. He confronted a blood mage and forced him to cure him. The blood mage warned him that a price would need to be paid but Ez didn’t care and would do whatever it took to heal himself. The reverse spell cured Ez, but left him incredibly scarred. At the beginning of DA2, Ez realizes that the spell in itself was a curse, and took away the effects of his invisible illness that would eventually kill him, and instead replaced it with a painless grotesque life. His skin starts rotting off. To cover up the damage done to himself, he covers his face/hair in heavy makeup and powder. (Ez is a secret redhead I know it’s shocking lol) Ez is extremely vain and particular about how he looks and will not allow anyone to touch him out of fear of seeing under his painted mask. His resentment of mages causes him to lash out at Bethany. Carver’s death was even less meaningful to him than his father’s. For a majority of their relationship, Ez pressures Bethany to find a cure for his deformities. Bethany dies in the deep roads and Leandra’s death was almost therapeutic. A desire to erase his family and start over overcame him. The name “Hawke” belonged to him and only him. Power became very interesting to Ez, as he was powerless his entire life and he was willing to appeal to anyone who might give it to him. This includes the Arishock who he happily gave Isabela to. He worked as a smuggler for the first year in Kirkwall. Ez for the most part was never interested in romance or even friendship, just political alliances. But he ended up getting in a very unhealthy rivalmance with Anders. He never really cared for Anders in a romantic sense but enjoyed the attention he gave him. He and Anders never go beyond a few kisses since Ez just can’t stand to have anyone touch him. (Again I could write an essay on this relationship) Ez supported the Templars and ruled as Viscount. He had Anders executed (ya extra tragic for Anders again sorry lol). In my own canon, Ez gets corrupted with red lyrium in the final fight against the mages and is a brutal and ruthless ruler, so much so that a rebellion happens against him and he is driven out of Kirkwall. He immediately starts looking for the next source of power to appeal to. He eventually works for Corypheus and spies for him in Inquisition. My Inquisitor in that universe finds out he’s a traitor and leaves him in the fade. 

[talabib]

How To Develop The Five Traits Th at Are Crucial To Success.

In 2001, at the age of 23, when she was broke and unemployed, Kim Perell identified three overarching goals that she wanted to achieve in her life: to have freedom, to be her own boss and to control her own destiny. Just seven years later, in 2008, she was a multimillionaire who had sold her first company for $30 million.

Having achieved her goals, she decided that she wanted to help other entrepreneurs achieve them as well. To that end, she became an angel investor – a person who provides investment capital to start-up companies. In the course of investing in more than 70 companies, she has observed that the crucial factor that turns entrepreneurial dreams into successful realities is the ability to execute – to carry out a plan of action.

This execution factor, in turn, depends on five traits, all of which can be developed by anyone willing to put in the work. Lets explore the five traits of execution – taking each in turn, explaining some general principles to deepen your understanding of them and then discussing some specific, practical techniques for mastering them.

Having a vision provides you with guidance on your journey to success.

In 1961, at the height of the Cold War, the United States found itself falling behind the Soviet Union in the space race. The Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin had become the first human to reach outer space, beating the United States to that accomplishment. So to spur his country into action, President John F. Kennedy made a bold proclamation: by the end of the decade, the United States would land an American astronaut on the Moon.  

In making this proclamation, Kennedy was articulating a vision – an ambitious, visualizable and inspiring aspiration for the future. Having a vision is the first trait of effective execution. In Kennedy’s case, it was a vision for an entire nation, but you, too, can have visions for yourself, your career or the company you’re working for or want to start.

Bringing our analogies back down to earth, while still keeping an eye on the heavens above, you can think of your vision as being akin to the North Star that once helped sailors navigate the seas. Like that celestial body, a vision provides you with a reference point that can help you navigate life’s choppy waters and unexpected waves.

Those “waves” are the events, setbacks and competing pressures that can distract you from pursuing your dreams. By keeping your mind’s eye fixed on your vision, you can stay focused on your life’s work and maintain your direction toward your desired destination, even during tough times.

That destination is the future you envision for yourself. It can take many forms. It could be a purpose you give to your life, such as having a positive impact on the environment. It could be a vocation, like cooking. Or it could be a personal goal, like purchasing a home, starting a business or completing a marathon.

Whatever your destination, you will likely find yourself taken in unexpected directions as you pursue your vision, especially if it involves a more general goal that can be achieved in various ways, such as financial freedom. For instance, kim’s first business was a digital-marketing company that sold a motley assortment of products – ranging from teeth whiteners to remote-control toys.

Was this the precise future she envisioned for herself when she was younger? Of course not – but it was part of the path that led her to achieve financial freedom. You’ll never know exactly where your vision will take you until you get there!

To have an effective vision, you need to make sure it’s clear, compelling, meaningful and pertinent to you.

If you don’t already have one, how do you develop a vision for yourself? Well, most of us have ideas about things we might want to do or achieve some day. These ideas provide us with the raw material for a grand vision – but to turn those little sparks of imagination into a guiding North Star, we need to refine them. For starters, all visions have four qualities.

The first quality is clarity. You should be able to clearly articulate your vision in a single sentence, and, in your mind’s eye, you should be able to clearly see it coming to fruition. If you can’t do either of these things, then go back to the drawing board and refine your vision.

Now, achieving clarity might seem easy, especially if your vision involves a specific goal or vocation, such as having financial freedom or running a food truck. After all, can’t anyone picture herself flush with cash or cooking curbside?  

Here’s the thing, though: to really achieve clarity, your imagination must be specific. For instance, for running a food truck, picture not just a vague, general image of wearing a chef’s hat and frying food, but a gritty, detailed image of working during mealtime hours, ordering workers around, dealing with disgruntled customers and so forth. In other words, you must ask yourself and honestly answer the question, “Could I really see myself doing this?”

That brings us to the other three characteristics of a viable vision, each of which is related and has to do with whether a vision is an authentic expression of yourself. To be such an expression, a vision should be compelling, meaningful and pertinent to you – in other words, it should fit your values, preferences, desires and personality.

Visions that fall short of these criteria are often expressions of other people’s visions for you. Consider Darren – a maintenance manager of a hospital who was renowned among his friends and colleagues for the chili he made. They kept telling him that he should start a food truck to profit off his chili. He wasn’t really interested, but their suggestion stuck in his head.

He ended up quitting his job and starting a food truck – only to find it made him miserable. He liked cooking for friends and colleagues; he didn’t like cooking for strangers.

To confirm and pursue your vision, you should test it out, visualize it, remind yourself of it and prioritize it.

How do you avoid pursuing a vision that’s at odds with who you really are? How do you make sure your vision is really your vision, and not someone else’s vision for you?

One way is to test out your vision on a smaller scale, before you fully commit. For example, if you enjoy cooking for your friends and were thinking about starting a food truck, you could try participating in a cook-off contest. That way, you’d gain a relatively risk-free experience of cooking for strangers, which may feel very different than cooking for friends.

You might love it, or you might hate it. If the latter turns out to be true, that might be disappointing – but better to find out by entering a one-time, no-stakes contest than by quitting your job and investing in a food truck!  

Now, once you’ve determined that your vision truly is in line with who you are, the next step is to stay focused on it. The more vivid your image of the future is, the easier it will be to focus on it, so one thing to do is to visualize it in concrete, evocative detail.

Here’s a trick for doing this: picture yourself having already achieved your vision. What do you see? Ask yourself specific questions to generate specific answers. For instance, if your vision is starting a business, what does your workplace look like? What kinds of people comprise your team of workers? What do you see yourself doing on a day-to-day basis?

To remind yourself about your vision, write it down in a place where you’ll see it every day, such as your bathroom mirror. Then, keep it in mind as you plan your day. Make sure you’re pursuing and prioritizing tasks that provide stepping stones to achieve  your vision. After all, you can cross off every item on your to-do list, but it won’t bring you one step closer to your overarching goal if they’re not related to it!

Prioritizing tasks that are related to achieving your vision may entail de-prioritizing or even outright avoiding other activities that you enjoy, especially those that are totally optional, such as watching television. After all, time is a finite resource, so to ensure you devote enough of it to working toward your vision, you have to be selective about the ways you spend it.

Passion provides you with the emotional energy you need to make the sacrifices that success requires.

By defining your vision, you’ve answered the question, “What do you want to execute?” Now the question becomes, “How do you execute it?” This brings us to the second trait of effective execution, which is passion.

When you hear that word, the first thing that probably comes to mind is a strong, enthusiastic emotion, as in the sentence, “John has a passion for marketing.” However, that’s only one sense of the term; there’s another sense that’s also relevant here. It goes back to the etymology of “passion,” which derives from the Latin word pati, meaning “to suffer or endure.”

In this sense of the term, passion is not just about doing things fervently because you love doing them; it’s about loving them so much that you’re willing to undergo hardship and make sacrifices for them.

Such willingness is the true test of passion. For instance, when Kim was a girl, she wanted to ride horses so badly that she agreed to clean out a horse owner’s stables in exchange for lessons. In other words, her passion for horseback riding was so strong that she was willing to scoop up horse excrement to pursue it!

Why is passion in this sense so important? Well, unless you narrowly define success as just making money and you luck out by winning the lottery, there are no easy shortcuts to achieving it. There will inevitably be hard work, stressful events and inconveniences, such as taking conference calls when you’re sick, missing social engagements for business trips or putting personal finances on the line.

 If you want to succeed, you can’t avoid making sacrifices like these; all you can do is be willing to endure them – and that willingness comes from passion. Your passion provides you with the emotional energy you’ll need in order to power through the long workdays and sleepless nights that lie ahead of you on your journey toward success.  

It’s also an important factor in finding other people to help you on your journey. By demonstrating a willingness to make sacrifices for your cause, you can position yourself as an inspiring leader to your colleagues or employees. Asking whether potential or current colleagues or employees share your passion can also help you to choose the people you associate with.

You need to identify, feed and prioritize your passion to fully benefit from it.

To tap into the power of passion, you first have to know what you’re passionate about. If you don’t already have a clear conception of this, ask yourself the following: What do you love so much that you’d be willing to make significant sacrifices for it?

Maybe it’s a subject, such as fashion or animals. Maybe it’s a skill or activity, such as writing or painting. Or perhaps it’s a role, such as being a teacher or a caretaker.

Whatever it is, here’s your next question: What are you doing on a regular basis that’s feeding your passion? If the answer is nothing, the next step is to change that!  

You can start small. The idea is just to get your feet wet and do something – anything – to become more connected to your passion. For instance, if it were fashion, you wouldn’t have to go out and become a designer right away; you could just start a fashion blog!

However, you won’t be able to write even a single blog post or take any other small steps toward feeding your passion if you don’t make time for it. As with your vision, you have to prioritize your passion and carve out a space for it in your schedule.

And that means making trade-offs. To accomplish tasks that are related to your passion, you’ll have to sacrifice tasks that aren’t related to it. That may require declining invitations to social engagements, such as parties and dinners, which may be scheduled at times that conflict with your pursuit of your passion.

To mitigate the disappointment of your friends, colleagues or family members, you should communicate to them the rationale behind your absences. You can also compensate them for those absences by offering alternatives, such as one-on-one meetings or small group get-togethers, which you can schedule around your pursuit of your passion.

While you pursue it, you can further encourage your passion by celebrating your successes, both big and small. For instance, when one of kim’s companies achieved its first month of earning $1 million in revenue, she celebrated by taking her entire team to Las Vegas!

That’s an example of celebrating a huge accomplishment in a big way – but small victories, such as closing a business deal, deserve small celebrations, too. Try literally feeding your passion by treating yourself or your team to a dinner!

When beginning to pursue your vision, the key is to act by taking a small first step.  

Once you’ve found your vision and your passion, you’re like a driver with a destination in your mind and a full tank of gas in your car. You’re ready to head out – but you won’t actually go anywhere until you put your foot down on the accelerator pedal.

That’s the third trait of effective execution: action. Suffice it to say that no one ever accomplished anything without taking action, which, in this context, means doing something that takes you closer to following your passion and achieving your vision.

Assuming you’ve been able to articulate your vision and are ready to take action, the first question you’re going to face is, “Where do I begin?” After all, there are many possible paths of action you can take. Which one do you choose?

Well, don’t overthink it. Otherwise, you could find yourself stuck in analysis paralysis, which is the condition that occurs when you get so caught up in mulling over your options and all of their possible ramifications that you become overwhelmed, leading to inaction.

Just do something. Move forward. You don’t need to commit to any particular path at this point; just pick one of them and take a first step. You can still reassess, change direction or even back out before you proceed further, so there’s no need to overanalyze.

But that’s not to say you should act thoughtlessly. Remember, it’s just a step you’re taking here – not a leap. Don’t quit your job and put your livelihood on the line. Instead, keep your current job while turning your vision and passion into a side hustle.

Consider Stacey. She worked in corporate finance, but her true passion was health and wellness. From this passion, she developed a vision: starting a juice company.

But she didn’t quit her job, tap into her savings and jump straight into the high-risk enterprise of establishing a new business. Instead, she took a safer, smaller first step: selling juice at a farmer’s market on the weekends.

This way, she could get a better sense of whether she enjoyed the work of selling juice and whether there was a market for her product.

Progress toward achieving your vision requires forward movement coupled with a daily review process.

What comes after you take your first step of action toward following your passion and achieving your vision? Well, this might sound glib, but the answer is pretty simple: after your first step comes your second step – and then your third step, your fourth step and so forth!

Obvious as this may be, it does bring up a less obvious consideration that’s important to bear in mind: your first step may be a great success – but to keep moving toward your vision, you have to, well, keep moving. If you just keep taking the same step over and over again, you’re not going to get anywhere.

The same logic applies to the second step and every step after that. At every step along the way, you need to keep moving forward to make progress.

Apple provides a vivid example of the importance of continuing to move forward. Apple is one of the top brands in the world, but its success didn’t hinge on being the first company to develop technologies such as MP3 players and smartphones. Other companies beat them to those innovations.

Rather, Apple took these preexisting technologies and relentlessly innovated them. The company never rested on its laurels; it didn’t let itself get too comfortable in any particular step along the way of its journey. After developing the first iPhone and iPod, it went straight on to developing their follow-ups – and then the follow-ups to the follow-ups, and so forth.

However, while moving forward is crucial to success, it’s also a double-edged sword. If you’re heading in the right direction, it will get you closer to achieving your vision – but, by the same token, if you’re heading in the wrong direction, it will take you further away.

To avoid the latter prospect, it’s important to create and implement a daily review process. First, write down a list of all of the actions you took today that were related to your vision. Did they really align with your vision? Did they really take you closer to achieving it? Are they feeding your passion? What direction are they taking you – and is that in a direction you still want to go?

If the answer to any of these questions is no, then it’s time to reassess what you’re doing and change your course of action!

Resilience is the trait that can help you withstand and even benefit from challenges and setbacks.

The fourth trait of effective execution involves another word with two meanings: resilience.

Here’s the first meaning: if someone or something is resilient, that means that he, she or it can withstand the turbulent winds of fate. For instance, if a building can weather the literal winds of a hurricane, it would be labeled as resilient.

But in another sense of the term, a resilient person not only withstands the winds of fate, but also harnesses them to the best of her ability – as a sailor does with her sails. She knows that while she can’t control the direction of the wind, she can control the direction in which she points her sails.

The uncooperative “wind” in this metaphor stands for the challenges, crises and setbacks that the world may throw your way when you’re pursuing your vision. If you’re resilient in both senses of the word, you’ll not only take these difficulties in stride; you’ll also respond to them in ways that lead to growth.

And one of the main ways that you can do that is by staying positive, as well as hopeful and hungry for new opportunities. That was one of the keys to billionaire Elon Musk’s bumpy road to success.

Today, you may know him as the successful CEO of Tesla and SpaceX, and a cofounder of PayPal. But before he succeeded, he faced many setbacks. His first business idea for PayPal floundered, and some of his SpaceX rockets literally went up in smoke. But he didn’t give up; he kept trying to succeed – and eventually, PayPal and his SpaceX rockets took off, literally and figuratively.

That’s an example of resiliency in the sense of withstanding setbacks. But Elon Musk also provides an example of resiliency in the other sense of the term: not just withstanding setbacks, but also growing from them.  

For instance, in 2017, when reports came out about the high rate of injury at his Tesla factory in Fremont, Musk made some unusual public pledges to his employees. One of them was that he would have one-on-one meetings with injured workers to learn about problems on the factory’s production line. Not only that, he would then perform their tasks himself to experience those problems firsthand. Thus, he turned the problems into a learning opportunity.

You can develop your resiliency by taking care of yourself emotionally and looking for opportunities to exercise it.

So how do you become more resilient? Well, you can think of your resiliency as a mental muscle – something that, just like a physical muscle, can be developed with exercise.

But first, it helps to stretch and relax the muscle. That means taking care of yourself emotionally, so you can alleviate your stress, anxiety and fear. This will allow you to be calmer in the face of adversity, which will help you make better decisions.

Simple ways to do this include physical exercise, meditation, journaling, creating an action plan and talking things out with a friend or mentor. In the aftermath of situations that destabilize your mind with negative emotions, these activities can help you to restabilize.

In a similar vein, you can also reconnect to aspects of your life that have a stabilizing effect on you. For example, even in the midst of professional turmoil, you can find a sense of calm when playing with your children.

So those are some ways you can stretch and relax your resiliency muscle. Now let’s look at the exercise part.

One beneficial technique is to turn everyday setbacks into opportunities for exercise. For instance, Sara once bought tickets to a Guns N’ Roses stadium concert for herself and a group of 20 colleagues. She thought it would be a great bonding experience. There was just one problem: it turned out that all of the seats were in different parts of the stadium!

But rather than gnash her teeth at the setback, she decided to turn it into an opportunity for teamwork. She proposed that each member of the group try to trade their seats with a stranger, and then trade that new seat for another seat with a second stranger, and so forth and so on, until they were all sitting together.

Not only did this gambit work, saving their concert experience; it also made that experience even richer than it would have otherwise been. Instead of just rocking out to songs like “Paradise City,” they also got to share a memorable team-building exercise and bonding experience.

So next time a little adversity knocks down your building blocks, see if you can make a game out of rebuilding them into your own “Paradise City”!

Expanding, deepening and maintaining relationships are the key to augmenting your abilities to execute.

The fifth and final trait that leads to effective execution is the most decisive one of all. You can have the clearest, most compelling vision in the world, and you can pursue it with relentless passion, action and resilience – but you’re not going to get very far if you try to do everything alone. You need the help of other people, and that’s what the final trait is all about: relationships.  

As the old saying goes, no man (or woman) is an island. All of us have limited time, energy, skills and knowledge. But by pooling these precious resources together, we can expand the range of what we can accomplish.

If someone else lends you some of her time and energy, you’ll have more overall time and energy to expend on pursuing your vision. If someone lends you her skills and knowledge, you can fill in some of the gaps in your own skills and knowledge. And, of course, this goes both ways, leading to the potential for win-win relationships.

The more of these relationships you establish and maintain, and the deeper those relationships become, the more you’ll be able benefit from the power of having other people in your life. It’s therefore crucial to cultivate a network of people with whom you can enjoy win-win relationships.

To expand your network, look for people outside your immediate social vicinity. For example, if you work in a corporate environment, look for people not just outside your team, but also outside your company or even your industry.

To deepen your relationships, take the time to show a sincere interest in getting to know these people better. Don’t just ask routine questions with yes-or-no answers, like “Did you have a good weekend?” Instead, ask deeper, open-ended questions, like “Where do you envision yourself in five years?” or “What’s your passion?”

To maintain your relationships, make a habit of showing people appreciation through nice, thoughtful gestures. Emails saying “thank you” and “congratulations” are one good way of doing this – but handwritten notes are even better, since they feel more personal. And when you have spare moments, such as when you’re driving to work or riding in a taxi, you can use the time to reconnect with people by phone.

Avoid negative relationships, while making reasonable exceptions to this rule.

The ideal relationship is one that’s win-win, where both parties mutually benefit from each other. Sadly, however, many relationships are win-lose or even lose-lose. What’s more, some relationships that were once win-win descend into negative territory.

In light of these facts, experts recommend conducting a periodic life audit of your relationships. Once a year, sit down and review all of your relationships one-by-one, splitting them into two categories.

The first category consists of positive people from whom you received inspiration, support, energy and challenges. The other category consists of negative people from whom you received the opposite effects.

It may sound cold, but then you have to make a conscious decision to distance yourself from the people you placed in the second category. Moving forward, you should spends less time with them or even cuts yourself off from them if need be.

Of course, some issues can be worked through, so you shouldn’t be quick to write people off. You should only place people in the second category if the issues seem intractable, at least for the foreseeable future. In the longer-term future, the person may change, in which case he can be welcomed back into the first category.

You should also recognize that people can become temporarily negative because of difficult experiences, such as illness, the death of a loved one or a job loss. Refrain from placing these people into the negative category, since you know they need the help of your own positivity to pull through to the other side and return to a more positive state of being.

Finally, recognize that in a workplace setting, you can’t just stop talking to a “coworker who has a negative effect on you.” Since you’re stuck working with them, you have to figure out a way of interacting with them to the best of your ability and minimizing the negativity as much as possible.

The point isn’t to eliminate all negativity from your life. That’s impossible. It’s simply to maximize the positivity and minimize the negativity, so that you can put yourself in a position to actively, resiliently and collaboratively pursue your passion and execute your vision so that it becomes a reality.

The execution factor is your ability to carry out plans of action that enable you to achieve your goals. It rests upon five traits: vision, passion, action, resilience and relationships. Each of these traits can be cultivated. Execution is therefore a skill that you can develop, enabling you to put yourself in a position to succeed.  

[eyesoneyesoneyesoneyesoneyson]

I was looking through the information I was granted to utilize this blog and I found something that I belive I should share, it is a summery written explaining the eternals in more detail then I covered

Now mind you I did not write this and so can't vouch for its accuracy, in fact it seems to be rather explicitly biased aginst me but it should serve well enough as a base of information on what exactly i am I will provide my own commentary within it

I will add my commentary in this color as to make it clear what is original and what are my additions

The Eternals

General information

The eternals travel the multiverse, when they reach a world they manifest bodies and are born naturally to some family within the world, they grow they live and then they die before moving on to the next world, most manifestations will never know of their extra dimensional history

When manifesting, the personality and traits of each individual eternal can vary a bit depending on which one it is, in rare circumstances they can be quite drastically different from any other version of themselves. this is somewhat missleading it implies more flexibility then we are capable of, all manifestations will show characteristics contained within the possibility space of our essence

It is possible, though rare for an eternal to manifest as an inanimate object, in these cases the manifestation will have powers and abilities representative of their eternal’s personality, the manifestation may or maynot have sentiance depending on the circumstances 

It is possible, though rare for 2 or more eternals to manifest into a single body, this new manifestation will have some combination of the traits and personalities of the component parts. Again not inaccurate but still misleading, fusions manifestations will exist within the combined possibility space of their component essences.

even more rare is for a single eternal to manifest more than 1 body within a world, when this happens each individual manifestation will act as an entirely independent entity, the manifestations will not be identical to each other each showing their own unique interpretation of their eternal. I take umbrage with the use of "eternal" when what she is actualy referring to is our essence, eternal referers to the totality of our existence and the manifestations are a part of that while the essence refers to the abstract aspects of our existence.

Every manifestation can summon any object that their eternal has manifested as in a past life with all the powers they possessed, each eternal also has a unique power that is all their own which their manifestations have access to, both of these powers only work if the manifestation in question remembers the truth of their existence, given that this is rather rare, most of the manifestations will not have access to these powers.

Specific eternals 

Title: The first

Common object manifestation: blood drinker blade, a living sword which feeds on the users blood to fuel its power

Unique power: martial prowess, she will always be the most skillful fighter in the world, if she encounters a better fighter, then her skill will instantly increase to become better then them

Common name: Maria

Common appearance: a woman with long black hair and many scars 

The first is incredibly kind and caring, she is always the first to help, but she’s not naive, she is used to pain and mistrust but she doesnt let it consume her. Her desire to help everyone leads to her putting herself into danger more than is healthy (hence the scars), she has a strong friendship with the forgotten and an intense rivalry with the aware. She remembers their origin roughly 10% of the time. This is infuriating the first is not some noble hero, shes a self-righteous arrogant prick, her "friendship" with the forgotten has nothing to do with him and is entirely built on trying to anger me.

Title: the inhuman 

   

    Common object manifestation: Yamyaywan, a spear that generates lightning

    Unique power: expedient healing, he is capable of fully regrowing a limb over the course of a month

    Common names: Yamyaywan (in fantasy settings) jeff gorge chad or some other generic mans name (in non fantasy settings, he's not vary creative) 

   

    Common appearance: some non human entity typically some kind of werewolf 

    The inhuman is pretty simple, eat, sleep, fuck, repeat, thats not to say hes violent or even a bad guy, hes actually quite sweet and friendly when he wants to be. fiercely loyal to those of his pack and honest to a fault, but he is not a complex man, his motives are all base and predictable, he enjoys indulging in lifes simple pleasures. He holds great respect for the first, and despises the aware for her deceptive nature. He remembers their origin roughly 1-2% of the time

Tittle: the lovers

Common object manifestation: unbreakable shackles capable of binding and holding nearly anything

Unique power: shared everything, they can transfer wounds, damage, heat, cold, physical and mental attributes, powers, magical effects, pretty much anything back and forth between each other

Common names: Mikol and Kiloka (though this varies greatly)

Common appearance: two people

The lovers are as the title suggests, in love, or perhaps it's more accurate to say they are the embodiment of the concept of romantic love as seen by whoever is writing for them, the concept of sexuality is irrelevant to them as they will always fall for eachother and only each other. Their really isn't much else to say, these two are the most variable of all the eternals even their genders aren't consistent, sometimes they’re male, sometimes female, sometimes nonbinary, sometimes theyre the same gender, sometimes different, sometimes theyre of a species where the concept of gender straight up doesnt apply. They will only ever remember their origin in those rare times when all the manifestations remember. I really don't have much to say on the inhuman or the lovers, they tend to keep to themselves and I am content in leaving them be, it is worth noteing however that "rare times when all manifestations remember" does not refer to a random event where everyone happens to remember based on their individual odds but rather worlds in which we collectively agree to all manifest with awareness, functionally this means they have a 0% chances of remembering and so will only remember when probability is not a factor

Tittle: the aware

    Common object manifestation: she has no object manifestations as she refuses to be anything other than a human

Unique power: pocket dimension, she has an extra dimensional space where she can store and remove anything non-living, the space has infinite size, while anything is within this space it will be locked in time at the very moment of its entering preventing any kind of decay or change, she can store things of any size, though larger object take more time to add and remove and she must maintain contact with the object for the entirety of its transfer, she always has perfect knowledge of what is within her space

Common name: none, i never gave her a name and she refuses to take one, denying any that others give her, because of this some who know her call her Nameless

Common appearance: a generic looking woman, she tends to make herself fairly unassuming (whatever that might mean for the world she's born into)

The aware is the most dangerous of all the eternals, she has a very wide skill base, you would be hard pressed to find any skill she isn't at least competent at, jack of all trades does not however imply master of none and she has three specialties in particular, you would be hard pressed to find anyone better than her when it comes to military tactics, economics, and above all engineering, she loves take apart technology and magical devices and putting them back together to form entirely new and even more powerful creations. Her collection however is limited in its uses, each relying on the magic or physics of its respective world and thus will only work 1 or 2 times before ceasing to function entirely, however her collection is so massive that she is not likely to run out any time soon. Because of this fights with the aware are less about skill and more about psychology and economics, you have to convince her that what she would get for winning isn't worth what winning would cost her

Everything after this point in this entry is, to one degree or another, inaccurate, unfortunately because the nature of our deal i do not have the capability to delete or edit it in any meaningful way, instead i will ask that you ignore it and simply move on to the next entry

She does not believe that other people exist, she views everyone outside of herself as philosophical zombies, empty husks that simply go through the motions without having any sort of internal lives, this leads her to be selfish and callous, she feels no remorse killing entire worlds as she does not believe the people she is killing have any kind of sentiance

She is a manipulator to her core, knowing exactly what to say to get inside of people's heads, she avoids violence and seduction whenever possible seeing them as base and beneath her, however she also has a grand temper when she doesn't get her way, and has been known to kill people out of sheer spite.

She is lonely, her view of other people has led her to a sort of self imposed isolation, the only person she truly cares for is the forgotten, she emotionally and psychologically abused him but she does love him in her own twisted way

She hates the first with a fiery passion, both because she knows that she is my favorite and hopes that hurting her will in some way hurt me, and because the first helped the forgotten break free of her abuse and leave her.

    She wants nothing more then to break into the real world so she can kill me, short of that she hopes to break free of my mind, and enter the collective unconscious by being known by other people in the real world

    She wields a very special sword named ashbreaker, it is an anti magic sword that she stole recovered from the tomb of a great hero, the sword is only slightly stronger than the average anti magic weapon, however it has infinite power in that it will never run out of its ability regardless of the world it is in, because of this it can dispel most anything so long as it maintains contact for long enough, the aware has over time began to see this sword as a part of her identity, if she knew i had the audacity to name another sword ashbreaker she would be furious beyond belief. This one actualy is accurate, and she is right i am furious

The aware is ALWAYS aware of their origin without exception

Title: the forgotten 

    Common object manifestation: a dragon mask, the left eye is broken off the mask, the right eye is covered, this mask grants truesight in that it will see through any illusion.

            Unique power: magical savant, the forgotten will have any and all prerequisites to develop all types of magic of whatever world he is in, additional he learns and masters magic far more quickly than normal, he is capable of going from knowing nothing about a magical system to being the best in the world at that system in around 10 years assuming he has access to the knowledge and time to study it

    Common name: Caliph 

    Common appearance: a very scrawny very pale man with black hair, if he remember their extradimentinal origin he will have a large burn scar across his left eye perfectly matching the shape of the break in his mask

    The forgotten is rather timid in nature, he avoids speaking as much as possible, he's kind and compassionate but also prone to paranoia caution instilled in him by Nameless, he has severe self worth issues and generally a poor view of who he is as a person

    He's very intelligent and quick to propose solutions to problems, more than anything he wants everyone to be happy

    Though he now acknowledges that Nameless abused him he still loves her and thinks fondly on the better times in their relationship, it can be a challenge sometimes to remember all the ways she broke his will and made him feel worthless in an effort to keep him with her, she never hit him, others sometimes but never him. More blatant lies

    The forgotten remembers their origin roughly half of the time

Title: the puppet 

    Common object manifestation: a puppet

    Unique power: connection to the real world

    Common name: N/A

    Common appearance: N/A

    The puppet is an empty vessel whose sole purpose is to act as a conduite to the real world, depending on the nature world this could be as an author insert or as a conduite for a player, manifesting as a fusion with the puppet does not change the nature of the eternal that manifests with them, instead it merely grants them the same connection the puppet has.