#but he knows it's your favorite thing so he doesn't want to intrude by asking

[meownotgood]

i feel like aki would be great to infodump to

like theres just that one interest on your mind and you Gotta Talk About It? aki wld sit there and listen with that lil smile on his face and nod and be like “whoa really ?” and ask questions for more elaboration

like part of it is bc he likes knowing your interests but he also likes how happy you look when youre talking about your favourite things.. it makes him happy in turn :-)

- 🐙

agreed..... 🥹

aki is just naturally a very good listener, but he really loves learning about your hobbies and interests. he feels special knowing you want to talk about it with him, he enjoys living through you so to speak when you tell him about all your favorite things. he loves the smile you have when you're telling him something that makes you happy... he'll gladly listen to you while you tell him all the things you needed to get off of your mind...

also I think he always gives you time and space to indulge in your favorite interests and hobbies... but he secretly really wants to experience them with you too haha

[oh-allie]

then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place n' have a drink or two.

dr. ratio x fem!reader

synopsis; you make veritas ratio so stupid. is he stupid enough to say 'i love you' when he just met you though? hopefully not.

part two! and then i go and spoil it all by sayin somthin stupid like....

fluff, ratio might be kinda ooc for him to fall for a love at first sight thing. but hes totally whipped for you, i tried 2 make it gen!neutral but "pretty person" just didnt sound right, inspired by frank sinatra's "something stupid."

veritas ratio is not stupid. he doesn't say stupid things, he doesn't think stupid thoughts. he'd say he hates the idea of it, if you were to ask him.

and of course a man with outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering wouldn’t stumble at the mere sight of a pretty girl, right? you’d think so, but here he was. mouth agape, clammy hands, and a racing heart. it’s stupid.

just cause a pretty girl happened to talk to him. though, to him, you weren't just a pretty girl. he almost thought he was hallucinating- he was about to check for signs of chemical abnormalities in his brain. it was awkward, actually, as he reached out to touch your steady hand to confirm you were real, but didn't have a game plan for what to do if you were (which you were. you are real. and you did stare at his cold fingers brushing against your knuckles.)

“are you alright, mr. ratio?” you say, a breathy chuckle escaping from your lips. you're sat across the table from him, your drink in your hand as you occasionally take sips from the chunky straw that protrudes from the cap.

all you wanted to do was approach a scholar you deeply admired, but it seems like you caught him at a bad time.

you look at him expectantly.

"um. hello?”

you consider standing up to leave, oh well, maybe you could try your luck with a letter to his assistant.

the sound of an awkward throat-clear is heard from across the table, “hi. i’m sorry, you just startled me. wha.. what do you need?” he says, straightforward and curtly. the way the tips of his ears are red and his voice cracks when he says ‘stArtled’ betray the cool demeanor he's trying to present.

“i recognized you from my booth. thought i had to take the opportunity to chat with such an esteemed man. i hope i'm not intruding too much.” you close your eyes as you take another sip, giving him a break from your intimidating gaze.

oh you, you flatter him. and you know it from the way he almost stumbles over his words and his hands get shakier as he realizes he hasn't moved them far enough away from yours to be normal.

he tries to find something, anything to say. anything to say to keep the conversation going, to flaunt his academic prowess that you approached him for, to keep you here with him, but he seems to have lost it all when you sat down.

“my apologies, i'll leave you be, then.” you say with a smirk. placing your napkin that had been resting in your lap onto the table and grabbing your drink, you give him a curt goodbye and walk out of the café.

well fuck.

he blew it. a girl so pretty he was convinced he was hallucinating her just sat by him and tried to talk to him and he blew it. he thinks about what topic he could pour himself into to distract from, what he over exaggerates to be, the biggest mistake of his life. and then his smartass brain turns back on.

he sees the neatly folded napkin you left behind, with curly red ink and blotches protruding behind the elegant folds. he grabs it and carefully unfolds it,

i was about to be late to my meeting. but i wouldn't want to miss a chance to speak with my favorite scholar.

lets link up ###-###-####

he’s quite happy he didn’t speak his mind when he first met you. you make him so stupid. almost stupid enough to blurt out ‘i'm totally in love with you’ when he just met you. he’ll be sure to set some hours aside in the evening to plan what he’ll say to you next time.

[iz-star]

About Zayne's possesiveness...

With Sylus calling us "kitten" all the time, I've seen Sylus mains being torn between if they like being called that or not, for some It's totally fine but for others is such a mood killer and I'm not a Sylus main but I'd be the second one for sure.

Then I remembered that Zayne once mentioned that I was his "favorite kitty" or that I was "his pet..." something like that? And I was like "where did he say that and why didn't I cringe when he said that? Maybe this is the effect of love (xD) maybe I understand Sylus mains better? I need to find out"

Then I remembered:

If Zayne is my personal Mr Kitty Cat, then I don't mind being his favorite kitty, we were basically the ones that initiated it and even put cat ears on him... So yeah, the whole vibe of this is totally different from Sylus' pet names.

However... He calling us "his pet" was a whole different story:

The way he lets his possesiveness slide for a second? You know, all of the guys are possesive somehow, they only show it differently, in this case, Zayne's possesiveness doesn't show too often cause he's aware that to be possesive of something is to allow yourself to show your weakness, to implicitly say "This person has a great power over my feelings or my behaviour bc It's mine..." that's why he stops himself when he says "Don't leave it with anyone else or I'll—" and then changes the approach "Do you want to leave it with someone else?"

And as the player, it leaves us hanging... Thinking "What would you do, Dr Zayne? What are you willing to do?"

We have to think about these questions from the perspective of Zayne's persona, of the kind of guy he is. We know the other guys have a bounty and have committed crimes/ killed people, while Zayne has done none of that and it's on the completely opposite side of things: He's a well respected doctor, has saved tons of lifes, is obssesed about saving people, a workaholic cause he knows the world needs him. The worst thing he's done (as far as we know) is that he had to kill his friend William when he was turning into a Wanderer and even so, it was William the one who asked this of him after Zayne desperately tried to save him against all odds.

Zayne is not someone who would even think of hurt others easily, even if he's quite able to cause others harm, just as much as the other LIs, but all versions of Zayne have in common that they're really kind. Sure, Dawnbreaker is a serial killer but we know he doesn't kill people out of joy but instead mercy. Sure, Foreseer was quite severe when MC first met him but It's not as if she didn't deserve it when she literally intruded his place, lied to him and tried to steal his powers (lmao) and we know he was wary of Astra all the time so he didn't want anyone to enter the Tower for their own sake and he paid with his life the price to keep MC alive. Master of Fate was supposed to kill MC but instead he chose to seal her powers to give her another chance to keep on living the life she told him she wanted to live (even without him).

So it's interesting to think what would Zayne do for MC? Us? If he decides to be selfish and fulfill his desires, what would he do? It seemed like he was even questioning himself, showing too much of what he's not used to show (And now with SS we just know how much he needs MC/us).

So that's why he changes the approach. His feelings are involved in this sudden and unexpected show of weaknesses, so he asks us "Do you want to leave it with someone else?" Now asking us about what we feel but not quite giving us time to reply.

The way he calls us "his pet" comes now more like he's gained control of his feelings again and is calling us that as a punishment for making him go through this unwanted jealousy but he's so ambiguous and smooth about it, that is giving "if It's too much don't take it" vibes because he neither confirms nor denies that he was talking about us.

Zayne is the kind of guy that would spoil you and shows his love through different ways: taking care of you and your health, acts of service, affirmation, sparing time for you, having you as his top priority, always offering his time/ himself (Have you notice how Zayne says "My free time is all yours, do with it what you want" while Sylus says "Who is your free time for if not me? " or how Xavier asks "Do you want to sleep with me?" while Zayne asks "Do you want me to sleep with you?"), he gives and gives (and lord knows how much he's tried to change and be more careful about his words and actions so they don't come across as alof, bc yes, Zayne hates to be mistaken as a heartless person) but of course he's also willing to do all that as long as you work for it and earn it too and if you misbehave, he makes you pay for it and knows how to give you a firm "No" when you try to backpedal or get away with it.

He knows (or tries) to balance his depth love by spoiling you while at the same time letting you know that nothing comes for free (even if he'd give it for free). Balance is a word that fits him best in all the aspects of his life, especially when it comes about love. He shows his feelings if you show them too (he both says "I never thought I'd have only one person in my eyes" accepting you're the only thing he sees and he also says "I want to be the only one in your eyes and for you to be mine" expressing what he desires too in a soft way) and when he shows his possesiveness, he's letting himself to lose this balance and he probably knows that you are the only thing that could make him completely lose this balance. His evol seems to be an analogy of this behavior, Zayne is always hyperaware that he could lose control of it at any given time and maybe, when it comes about his feelings, does he feel the same? ("It wouldn't be love if I could control it"). He's scared of hurting you but is he scared of the things he'd do for you?

Especially bc, all his other lifes and the current Zayne have always shown the opposite of possesiveness, they sacrifice themselves and their happiness for your own happiness and your well being. When MC asks Foreseer Zayne "Didn't you say you don't want to lose me again?" his literal reply was "I will never lose you as long as you're alive and well" and when Master of Fate was supposed to kill MC, he chose to seal her powers away even if it also meant to sacrifice his presence in her life (even after he promissed that they would always be together and promissed not to leave her and desired fulfill those promises). Dawnbreaker's only solace is MC, he only yearns for her and nothing else, a powerful quote they say in his anecdotes is "It's better to die with clarity than living as a walking corpse" referencing to ppl that turns into Wanderers but this quote applies to Zayne too, in the sense that he's basically a walking corpse cause he doesn't live his own life. MC is the only thing that keeps him alive somehow and she's not even in his own world. Dr Zayne says "When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not meet again" bc he knows this is the best for you.

All Zayne's are filled with pent up yearning, want, need, desire, to a point It's seems it is about to overflow and he does a goddam good work at hiding it; no wonder why Dr Zayne is taking all the available chances with MC, but even he seems to be aware that this won't last forever and even in such period of time, why he seems so afraid to loose up... lose control of himself? Especially cause Dr Zayne seems to be the balance amongst all Zayne's, he's not as dark and depressive as Dawnbreaker, nor as cold and severe as Foreseer, nor as happy and carefree as Master of Fate but at the same time holds a little of all of that.

So the question here is, how a showcase of the loss of this balance would be? For now we can only imagine and come up with assumptions but I'm quite curious to see it playing fully ingame, you know? Altho I'm not sure if I'd like it if it comes at the cost of him getting hurt again.

[koisuko]

Hear me out, but how about a shy female reader who has been chosen as one of earthrealm's champions but Bihan doesn't see it due to her being short and shy, he makes a comment about it but is shocked when the reader gave a smartass response to his comment which peaks Bihan's curiosity about the reader?

Tw: none, shy reader, fem reader, no use of y/n

You lived a fairly reclusive life, hidden away in a densely forested area surrounded by high mountains. There were very few homes nearby with the nearest neighbor being 100 kilometers away. Just how you liked it, away from strangers in your cozy cabin. It was a paradise, a shy persons dream.

You sat on your brown sofa, the cushions so pillowy it nearly swallowed your petite frame. Beside you, your sole company in the isolation you live in, a small black cat. Soft purrs accompanied the crackle of the flames before you, your toes wiggling near the fireplace for warmth. A sigh left your lips, at the relaxation taking a hold. All the chores were done, you finished your reading, and you had gotten off your online job just an hour ago. You had nothing to do but relax. A hand stroked the silky black fur of your cat, the purrs a gentle lullaby. Your eyelids grew heavy, barely having the strength to fight the impending nap. Not that you wanted to, naps were your favorite thing after all.

One..two..three knocks on your front door jostled you from your drowsy state. A spike in anxiety hit, fear of who or what could be here. You never really had visitors, or many friends outside of your cat and family. There is no one you know to be visiting anytime soon, so who is it? Slowly, you approached the front door, a nervous expression on your face despite your best efforts to seem confident. Armed with nothing but your fists, you stood just inches from the wooden barrier. You knew how to fight, if it was necessary. A woman in the middle of no where needs her protection! You’d be damned if you unhooked the chain lock at the top of the door. You mustered up the courage to place a cautious hand on the door knob. Was it hot in here? You could feel the sweat begin to bead at the ridge of your brow. A sigh left your lips as the door slowly creaked open. On the other side we’re not one, but three large burly men. This is your end, isn’t it? “U-uh h-hello?” You squeaked out, earning a scoff from a man wearing blue. His face seemed molded into a permanent scowl, and his scrutinizing gaze locked on to what little of you peaked from behind the door. The first to speak, was a man with bright white eyes. “Greetings, I am Lord Liu Kang, God of fire, Protector of Earthrealm,” his voice was oddly calming, but not enough to block out the body guards beside him, “May we enter?” Enter? As if! His title seemed like something straight out of one of your novels. “M-may I ask what business you have here?” You cleared your throat, anything to rid the lump making it hard to speak. “N-no offense but..I think you have the wrong house.” Liu Kang’s bright orbs creased at the corners in a smile, “I assure you we are at the correct residents.”

Shit, you thought. A thick clump of saliva made its way down your throat, causing you to nearly choke on it. “We can talk outside, if you wish,” he added. Something about this man was…strange yet peaceful. What choice did you have? You puffed out your chest and unhooked the chain keeping these intruders outside. All within a split second, you swung the door open and readied yourself for a fight with a defensive position. Unfortunately, a pathetic squeak left your lips as soon as the door smacked the wall. The two men behind Liu Kang chuckled, one with a more lighthearted giggle, and the other a demeaning one. Liu Kang smiled once again, bowing his head respectfully. You straightened up with an awkward gulp so loud the birds outside could hear it, “I uh..sorry.” He shook his head, “it is understandable, your bravery is admirable.” That soothed your nerves just a bit, until, the man in blue spoke for the first time. “This is the chosen champion?” His lip curled into one of distaste as he eyed you down, “pathetic.” It was one thing to hate everything around you, but to insult you before seeing your skills was a whole new level. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, popping a hip out with a snarl, “you look like a mere boy with sticks for arms compared to the men I’ve fought!” He didn’t say a word, instead, he scoffed and averted his gaze elsewhere. Although, despite his initial burning expression, his eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly when looking at you. It was barely noticeable, but a spark flickered just behind that ice cold exterior.

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #o17 | glory

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows glory (praise kink) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan met as volunteers for the local cabaret theatre, working as stagehands, but when it blossoms into something more, and the temperatures drop below freezing, chan figures out a way to warm you up, and fast... warnings: praise kink, and all that entails, plot heavy, fluffy, lots and lots of praise, 'daddy' petnames, non-idol AU

word count: 4k masterlist - click here

The first time he let it slip, you two were still just friends.

You both volunteered as stagehands at the downtown cabaret theater, and you had been sent out to purchase some last-minute supplies. Your coat was dripping wet over your arm from running through the rain, a shopping basket hooked in the crook of your opposite elbow, and you held the phone to your ear, spinning around to decipher the location of the checkout.

"Did you get the safety pins?" Chan's voice came through the phone.

You nodded, even though Chan couldn't see you. "Yeah."

"And-"

"I also got the glue gun sticks, an extra pack of AA batteries, and a small can of black acrylic paint," you rattled off.

"Good girl," Chan responded, genuinely impressed.

At the time, he had no idea that his words had a much different impact on you than he could have ever imagined. The idea of him praising you under very different circumstances had ignited a fire within you, one you couldn't ignore.

The season progressed and Chan worked up the courage to ask you out for drinks and now you two are barely two months into a very new relationship. Still working together, now as hired staff seasonally, at the cabaret theatre, you two are now working together on helping out with the production of A Christmas Carol.  It’s two months until showtime, so you’re in the thick of things, managing a team of stage designers. Chan is managing the costume department and overseeing music direction. He has a brief gap between meetings, so he decides to surprise you by grabbing your favorite drink and muffin from the local coffee shop. After leaving a generous tip in the paper cup at the front of the register, he heads back to the theater through the brisk winter cold.

Chan enters the theater's workshop, finding you in your office. He closes the door behind him, greets you with a kiss and your drink, and then takes off his coat. As he hangs it on the nearby coat rack, you take a sip of the drink, savoring the warm, spicy flavors of your favorite spiced winter beverage. Opening the small, white paper bag, you take out your favorite muffin. "I needed this so badly. I was late this morning and couldn't grab breakfast."

"Why didn't you call? You know I could've picked you up," Chan says, sitting on the edge of your desk as you ease into your chair. You blow on your drink, preparing it for a sip. "Your car's been in the shop for weeks now. Any word on what's going on with it?"

You pause for a moment, taking a sip of your drink as you ponder how to address the issue. You've been avoiding Chan's questions about your mode of transportation since receiving the bad news. You're hesitant to reveal that you don't have everything under control, fearing it might push Chan away. After swallowing, you gather your thoughts and finally speak up.

"It's gonna be a while," you say, your voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

At this point, Chan has confirmed his suspicion that you're intentionally keeping this information from him. He nods, taking in your response, and glances at his watch. Fiddling with one of its links, he contemplates whether you've been together long enough for him to press you about these matters. He doesn't want to start an argument or intrude on your privacy, but he's genuinely concerned, especially with the weather getting colder and the distance you live from the theatre.

"That... doesn't sound good," Chan finally says, after you've taken another sip, looking back at you. You can feel the hesitation in his words and sense that he's holding something back. Your fingers nervously tap against your cup in an unknown rhythm that's stuck in your head. "Yeah, the engine, it's kind of... shot," you say, tapping the cup at a higher tempo. You find the lid of your cup more interesting than Chan's attempt to hide his shock. He knows he's not great at concealing his emotions, and he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his watch.

"Wow, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Engine troubles can be expensive. You know if you need any help at all—"

"I'm just getting another car. I've been looking, but I haven't had the time yet, especially with the production coming up, so I've been taking the trains. I'm okay, though, Chan, really," you reassure him. Setting your cup down, you interlock your fingers, resting your chin on them, and offer him a disarming smile.

"Since you've had time to come visit me, I'm guessing you're ahead of schedule?" you inquire, relieved when you see his focus shift, steering the conversation in a different direction. 

For now, you've evaded his questions again.

"Like a well-oiled machine. In fact, there's a little bit left over in the budget to get the fog machine fixed."

"Chan!" you laugh, "How did you manage that?"

"A few people owed me a few favors. I know how much you wanted to give those Ghost of Christmas Future scenes more ambiance." Chan embraces you, and you eagerly rush into his open arms, hugging him tightly, the scent of his shampoo and cologne filling your senses. When you let go, he slowly turns you around in his embrace, his arms encircling your body, your back against his chest.

"Thank you for this. Oh, Hailey will be so excited to hear this, and Thomas, we'll have to space out the set for Act Three, but that's no problem. I—" You stop yourself, your hand on your forehead as you catch yourself from rambling again. Chan loves seeing you excited like this, so he never stops you during your enthusiastic outbursts. You turn around, your arms resting on his shoulders, and you kiss him, expressing your gratitude with a hundred silent thank-yous.

Chan finds the courage to speak out, his hands gently resting along your waist. "Please let me give you a ride, at least to and from here. You live outside the city, and I'd feel better knowing you're safe in this cold." He anticipates a rebuttal and adds, "Just for the cabaret. Whatever else you do is your business, but if you did need me for other rides, I'd be up for it—just needed to get that out there," nodding affirmatively to you and himself.

You decide to accept his offer this time. You had guessed wrong; it had never left his mind the entire time.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with a small smirk, "I just know you live in the city, and that's out of your way."

"It's not, honest," Chan stands up and leans forward, kissing your forehead. "You're really special to me." With a smile, he heads out and adds, "I'll meet you in the lobby after rehearsal."

"You're really special to me..."

Those words reverberate in your mind for the next four hours of work. They're louder than the hammering of nails into wooden boards, louder than saws cutting through plywood, and even louder than the timpanis in the orchestra pit.

As you work, your head down while distressing the paint on the side of a fake building, you can hear Chan stopping and starting the musicians, going over pieces meticulously. It's hard not to lock eyes with him when he glances over at you occasionally.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is entranced by the way you bring a vision to life, ingeniously assembling pieces that leave him baffled. He observes you walking among other stagehands, adeptly adjusting a streetlamp, your gloved hands confidently resting on your hips, toolbelt hanging down. You point, shake your head, and oversee adjustments, stepping back and tilting your head, scrutinizing it from various angles before granting it a thumbs-up.

Every so often, you cast an inconspicuous glance over your shoulder, but Chan has already shifted his focus long enough to deceive you into thinking he wasn't watching. He splits his attention between you and the piano, directing the musicians, a sight he relishes.

At one point, a designer stands beside the piano with a partially costumed actor, waiting for the right moment to approach Chan. The designer holds up a piece of velvet red fabric against the navy blue costume.

"Was thinking maybe this material?" the stylist asks.

"Nah, not really, the blue is better against the gold buttons," Chan nods, providing his expert opinion.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Thomas' voice teases, breaking your focus and startling you from your reverie.

"Oldest one in the book. And corniest," you quip back.

"Don't do it, boo. I'd be distracted if Chan were mine too," Thomas remarks, and you both sneak another glance in Chan's direction. "He is a delicious piece of sweet potato pie, ain't he?"

You nudge Thomas playfully, and both of you head backstage.

As the day concludes, everyone gathers around for announcements and updates from the director. Afterward, people begin to disperse. You're embraced by hugs from Thomas and other crew members who've become like family. The holiday break is upon you, and some are leaving town to enjoy their vacation. The lobby teems with people, and amid the crowd, you spot Chan. You hear him chatting with others, and as he finishes, his expression brightens as he spots you.

You’re really special to me… You give Chan a warm hug. It's cozy inside, a welcome refuge from the cold winter winds outside.

"Ready?" he asks with a grin.

You nod, and together, you make your way to the exit. The bitter cold greets you as you step outside, and the wind feels like needles on your exposed cheeks. You tug your scarf up around your nose to protect yourself from the icy gusts. Chan holds you even closer as you both step out into the open, and he opens the passenger door of his nearby parked car.

The car's interior offers immediate warmth, and you welcome it with relief. Chan yawns as the silence settles in around you. He had a busy but good day, and now he's just as eager to hear about yours, especially after getting lost in watching you do your thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, drive me all the way home?" you ask, your voice tinged with doubt.

"Yes, I want to drive you all the way home," Chan says with a chuckle. He starts the car, shifting it into reverse to back out of the parking space. "And then I want to walk you all the way to your door, and then I want to kiss you, like we're a couple of teenagers from the fifties."

You laugh at his sweet sentiment.

"I'm serious! You make this relationship thing feel like it's worth something, like it's something I can do... forever," Chan says. He starts to feel a little self-conscious about gushing and quickly dials it back. "You're just... really special to me." There it is again.

"Chan," you begin, and there's a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" Chan's gaze remains fixed on the road, but he's eager to hear your words.

"I love you," you say, surprising both yourself and him with the sudden confession.

Each quiet second Chan spends frozen on the road ahead makes you want to backpedal.  It’s too soon.  Are you dumb? He’s gonna think you’re crazy.  It’s not even three months yet.

“I love you too.” He says, and it comes out like his own kind of word vomit, at the tail end of his ruminating thoughts of whether or not you actually meant your statement.  Then he guilts himself for doubting the expression of your feelings. Chan would just like to get out of his own head for thirty seconds.

"Ok, now that that's settled," you say, your humor helping to break the tension, and you settle into your seat with a sigh. "I'm sorry I get so weird about you helping me sometimes. I just feel like you have your shit together, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I know you didn't sign up to get a girlfriend with a bunch of problems—baggage."

Chan snorts, a mixture of amusement and relief. He's glad to hear that this is what's been on your mind, that you've been carrying a self-imposed burden. He appreciates the vulnerability in your words. Sometimes he needs to feel needed, especially in a relationship.

"I'm not sure what your definition of having my shit together is, but this version of me, isn't it," he says with a smile. "I didn't sign up for a girlfriend with a perfect life. I signed up for Y/N, and all that comes with her. How dare you short me the fries to my combo?"

You both share a laugh, and as the car settles into the quiet hum of the engine, you notice snow falling and sticking to the slushy roads as you leave the city behind and enter the suburbs. You check the weather forecast on your phone, prompting you to speak up.

"There's a frost advisory tonight, love," you muse. "You think you should stay over tonight? The roads are gonna be awful."

Chan hadn't planned on it, but he realizes he has nothing urgent to rush home to, and he's getting pretty tired too.

"Good idea."

It takes another thirty minutes, but soon, Chan is pulling into your driveway, turning off the car and walking you to your door just as he said he would. He waits patiently next to you, his hands warming in his pockets as he looks around at the snow falling and piling up, covering the black streets in blinding white reflected against the streetlights.

It's a perfect night to snuggle with a special someone.

You turn on the music, an old Aqualung album filling the former silence, making the blanket of white outside look even more magical. You had never found yourself enjoying the quiet company of another until you started dating Chan. It's a new experience for both of you since you can get lost in conversation for hours. But with Chan, there's no pressure to keep coming up with new topics. It's one of the many reasons why he enjoys your company. He can just be himself around you.

You come over to join Chan as he sits on the floor against the couch. He initially begins to unfold his crossed legs to make room for you, but you extend a leg over his, straddling him instead, holding two cups of hot cocoa in your hands.

"Oh, well hello, beautiful," he chuckles, taking one of the mugs from you.

The way he says it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but tease him. You sip your drink, looking at him with a mischievous gaze. "There's just something about the way you say those things to me."

"What things, baby?" Chan asks, playing along. He knows what you mean, but he loves hearing it from you. "When I tell you how pretty you are? How I get caught staring at you at work at least five times a day by the other volunteers?"

You can't contain your giggles, and he takes your mug and his, placing them on the coffee table as he cups your face. "I can feel how hot your cheeks are getting too."

"Because!"

"Because why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't list every reason why I've fallen in love with you to your face."

You bite your lip, realizing Chan's winning the playful banter. He holds onto your hips, shifting himself underneath you and readjusting, all while focusing on being romantic rather than all the nasty things he wants to do to you with you straddling him like this.

He kisses you, gently at first, and then more passionately. "For one, you are beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that..." You notice the drop in Chan's volume and the edge his tone gains, making you crave him in ways you haven’t been able t0 have him yet. “I like that.” “Yeah?  You do? You should, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, my pretty girl of course.” Chan's eyes linger on your lips, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a single kiss that leaves both of you lingering, breathing heavily, your faces close.

"Call me your pretty girl again, and you might start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it, pretty girl?" Chan counters with a sly smile, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Chan is the next to initiate another kiss, drawing you into a passionate embrace. His hands trail up the bare skin of your back, hidden beneath your hoodie, leaving a trail of sinfire in their wake. You lean your head back with a gasp as he hums against your neck.

"Listen to those breaths you take, so sweet for me," Chan says, eager to hear more of your reactions. He sucks hard enough to leave a bruise under your collarbone, making you gasp in response.

"Oh my God, Chan, I—" You start to express concern, but the juxtaposition of his arousal and your own, both concealed beneath clothing, interrupts your common sense. He shouldn't be marking you up like this. You realize you'll need to wear a turtleneck or a collared shirt to cover your collarbone.  “B-Be careful-”

"I'm sorry, baby. You're just so intoxicating, you know that?" Chan manages to peel himself away from devouring you for a brief moment, a feat that takes immense self-control. "And you have the most adorable smile."

You try to hide your smile, but he pulls your arm away. "No, let me see it. Look at how you get when I compliment you. I can't tell if you love it or hate it, but it's damn hot seeing you get all shy like this. Makes me want to say more, see how else your body responds to me."

"I think it's turning me on," you admit, your voice slightly shaky, and a coy smile forms on your lips.

“You think?” Chan states more than questions, running his nose and lips against your chest, peppering kisses up your neckline. He sucks again, leaving another mark, this time closer to your jaw. You moan in response, and he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips bruise against his, swollen as he pulls back, looking up at you as if you were Aphrodite herself.

“Thank you, babygirl. I’m sorry I left a couple of marks.”

“It’s okay, you should leave a couple more.”

So Chan does just that.

You hold onto his neck as he moves forward, pressing you into the floor, lifting your hoodie up and sliding it over your arms so he can lay more open-mouthed, deliciously wet kisses down to your navel. He dips his tongue in, taking your piercing between his teeth. Your back arches, and he's going for your jeans, ready to unbutton them, but he stops, sitting up on his knees.

Chan knows if he goes any further, it would be akin to dragging him from quicksand.

He has to ask first.

“We’ve never gone this far,” Chan says, feeling somewhat awkward for not just outright asking you. You realize, of course, that you two haven't gone this far, but Chan wants to ensure you're comfortable. How much further are you willing to go? Chan can easily wrap things up right here, but the way you're writhing underneath his lips every time they press into your skin, leading further and further down south; Chan needs you to tell him otherwise. “I want to go further,” you say, your thumbs hooked into the top of your pants. “You told me you'd finish it, didn't you?”

You assist him in getting your bottoms off, and he nuzzles against the damp fabric of your panties, taking in your scent. “Had no idea you’d smell this amazing,” Chan says, pulling your panties aside to slip a finger in, curling it up. “You must really want me, hmm?”

“Mhm, I do.”

“Can you take more fingers, baby?” “Yeah, I can,” you nod fervently, vigorously, eager to feel him spread you further. Chan gets two more fingers inside of you, and he pulls the panties even further around your lips, leaning down to kiss and suck your clit. He enjoys the way his saliva catches the light as you buck your hips up.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen, babygirl. Are you going to let my cock feel it too?”

“Yes, please, daddy?”

Chan has to process the fact that you've called him this. He nearly short-circuits.

“You must want to be my good girl tonight,” he says as he pulls off his hoodie, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his pants.

“I'd give anything to be your good girl, Chan.”

“Anything?”

His fat cock slaps against your wet slit as he holds it firmly. “Anything.” you begin to twist your hips, attempting to grind in a way that will make him slide inside you. You're wet, it's spread everywhere, slicking your inner thighs and cheeks. All it takes is one good thrust, and he can –

“I want this, right here,” his firm taps stop you in place, and his eyes lock onto yours as he pushes his cockhead between your folds, stopping as soon as he's sheathed inside, feeling your walls begging for more. “You feel so wet, baby. Is this for me?” he asks, inching inside until he's halfway in. Chan wants to stop, but the sensation of your walls squeezing him proves to be too much, and he bottoms out inside of you.

“Yes!” You cry out, stronger and louder than you intended, spawning Chan to thrust again, rutting into you. He doesn't always go deep; in fact, he's stroking you at just the right angle to make you see stars as you drag your almond nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

“S-sorry,” you hiss, your head falling against the floor as you cum around his cock. “Keep it up, baby,” he encourages you, “You look so good taking me like this right now, so fucking good.”

"I-I look—"

His firm grip on the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck forces your gaze upwards, compelling you to meet his intense, smoldering eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathes as his thrusts take on a deliberate, measured pace. Each motion propels you closer to the precipice of another orgasm, and you can barely keep your eyes open. His hand presses flat against your head, angling it so you can witness the raw, primal connection between your two bodies. "You look beautiful, say it." You gasp and muster the strength to whisper, "Beautiful," as he introduces two of his fingers to your lips. You eagerly accept them, your tongue tantalizingly caressing the pads of his digits, still bearing traces of your earlier essence. He withdraws his fingers and expertly circles your clit with confident, steady pressure, evoking whimpering pleas from deep within you.

"Such a good girl," he praises with a low, smoky voice, pride lacing every word. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Can you cum again for me? I just wanna see that face one more time.” He wants to etch the vision of your blissed-out expression into the depths of his consciousness, ensuring it's the first thing he sees every morning as he awakens with thoughts of you.   Instinctively, you attempt to shield your contorted, furrowed brows with your hands, but Chan swiftly restrains your wrists, pinning them above your head with a powerful grip. His other hand intensifies its attentions to your clit, moving more vigorously.  He pairs this with shallow, accurate thrusts,each one striking your g-spot with unerring accuracy, causing you to unravel until you could think no more.  You’ve been fucked dumb, for the first time in your life.  As you gradually return to your senses, you struggle to find words or even make sense of how another human being can make you feel this extraordinary.

Amidst the haze of your post-orgasmic stupor, a lucid thought pierces through: sex is a potent, heady concoction, a force to be reckoned with.

Then, the second wave of awareness washes over you when you hear Chan's voice, close to your ear, whispering those two potent words, "Good girl." - fin

[hwanchaesong]

Die For You

Na Jaemin X Reader

genre: fluff, suggestive at the end, sprinkle of angst, f2l au! (reader is having a hard time because of school)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: now this one is for you~ i hope you'll like it 💚 to anyone who wants to make a request, please check the rules. thank you much~

Jaemin doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he does believe in seeing someone for the first time and knowing that one day, you'll fall in love with that person.

It so happens that it's you, that one girl that always sits at the same table in his favorite coffee shop, at the same time with the same order.

You look.. peculiar? Can he even say that? He doesn't think so, he might get wacked on the head by you. But still, he really did think that you're adorable, and it became a habit for him to watch you as you minded your own business.

The idea of talking to you did not even enter his mind, not until you took the initiative because you had enough. You felt like being watched every time, and when you inspected the place, that handsome man was the culprit.

So you approached him, slamming your book and coffee on his table and sitting on the empty seat in front of him.

"Spill it." you said, and boy was he shocked because he did not expect you to be this bold.

"My coffee?" he asked, not entirely sure of what you mean but you can't blame him. The poor man has been relying on caffeine for days just to stay awake.

"No, I mean," you cleared your throat, caught off guard at his dumb reply, "why do you keep on staring at me?"

Then a light bulb switched inside his brain, beaming at you and stretching his arm towards you for a handshake, "Hi! I'm Jaemin and I think you're adorable."

That was the time when a beautiful thing called friendship bloomed. (and it turns out that between the two of you, he was the peculiar one. not you.)

Jaemin looked at his phone again, checking if you had replied to his messages. He does this every twenty minutes and his friends are getting sick of it.

"Just call her." Haechan said, scowling when he saw Jaemin check his phone once again.

"I can't do that. What if she's busy?" Jaemin countered back.

He doesn't want to intrude too much in your life, knowing his boundaries even if the two of you are very close with each other.

He was just worried. He hasn't seen you since last week and you never messaged him back.

"If you don't want to bother her, then wait patiently." Renjun, his other friend advises. A good one, but Jaemin wasn't exactly the most patient man alive.

"But I missed her!" he protested once more, earning him a collective groan among the men in the room.

"Listen," this time it was Jeno who spoke, "all these fiasco of yours are getting boring to watch."

"What?" now, Jaemin was confused, even more so when his other friends nodded in agreement. What on earth is he talking about?

"At first it was fun to watch, now it's just painful and if I'm going to be completely honest," Jeno leaned forward, like he was about to tell the dirtiest secret in the universe, "every time I see you like this, I wanna bang my head to the nearest wall."

"Then do it." Haechan laughed when Jeno threw a glare in his direction. "Jokes aside, I agree with Jeno."

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at them, "Are you guys drunk or something? What are you talking about?"

Ever the clueless Jaemin, everything needs to be spilled out for him that it made Renjun groan and push him out of the door.

"Just go to her man, you can't come back here until you've settled this!"

What good friends he has. First, they tell him things without elaborating and now they are kicking him out of their shared apartment? Well damn. Looks like he got no choice but to go to you.

After a few minutes of walking, he was already at the doorstep of your house, knocking incessantly and calling for your name.

He felt relieved when he heard your voice for the first time in weeks, "Coming!"

Upon opening the door, he was surprised at your appearance. You look so unwell, with the dark bags under your eyes, your tired demeanor and oh? Did you lose weight? What really caught Jaemin's attention was the dried tear stains on your cheeks.

His hands unconsciously made their way to your face and cupped it, "You were crying?"

Your eyes widened, slapping his hands away and shielding your face from his prying eyes, "I'm sorry Jaemin, I'm not really in the mood for this."

You were about to close the door but man was he agile, gripping your hand and hastily entering your home without your permission. (granted that it wasn't really required because you did tell him to come to your apartment whenever he wants to. you even gave him a spare key for free access.)

"Jaemin! What are you-"

He plopped you down on your sofa, "Stay there young lady, don't move a muscle and I'll cook some ramen for us."

He made his way to the kitchen, the clanking of the pans as an indication that he started cooking. You sighed and rested your head on the soft pillows of your sofa, soon, you were drifting to dreamland.

It was a relatively short nap, the smell of something heavenly woke you up. Lo and behold, a complete meal was set in your living room table.

"I thought we were having ramen?"

"At first," Jaemin answered, moving around and setting up the television so the both of you could watch your favorite movie, "but then I saw you sleeping so I decided to make more food. I'm sorry that I woke you up though." he explained, sitting beside you and giving you a sheepish smile.

"I don't mind getting woken up by a feast, honestly." you joked, eyes setting on the television as you two started to eat.

This was fun, you thought, not until you felt that same unnerving stare from years ago.

"What is this time?" you whined, now distracted and setting your food down.

"Why do you always complain? Let me admire you in peace."

You stilled, heart beating a little too fast for your liking. "You still didn't give up on that agenda of yours."

"How could I when you're literally the prettiest person I've known."

No. No. No. No. No.

You can't take this, not this time, you are having such a hard time and you don't think you'll be able to handle this.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a warm hug engulfing you, Jaemin's scent filling your nose, "I missed you so much, Y/N."

You couldn't help but return the affection, melting in his embrace, "I missed you too, Jaemin. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Jaemin hummed, momentarily moving away to fix some astray strands of hair, "It's okay, it's you. I will always understand you." he assured you, and for what felt like forever, tears of happiness began to form.

Was it really happiness? You think that some mixed emotions are also in there yet Jaemin was patient, wiping your tears away as you continued bawling. Your snot probably got in his shirt but he couldn't care. You were his priority, and he hates it when you cry like this.

He listened to you well, how you were so stressed about your academics and the never ending school works worsen your panic attacks.

He listened and listened, soft eyes watching you with empathy and sadness.

"You should've told me all of this instead of keeping it in." he mumbled against the crown of your hair, letting you calm down.

"Don't worry, you're not alone now. I'm here." his hands went up and down your back, effectively soothing your nerves.

"Thank you, really Jaemin. Thank you for sticking with me all this time even if I'm such a mess." you sniffled, giggling afterwards when he suddenly tickled you.

"Oh my god!" you squealed, falling onto your back and when you opened your eyes, you see Jaemin on top of you, gazing down at you with orbs full of nothing but adoration.

"I think you're perfect, even if you're a mess." he admitted, "Every day in my life, I see you and I think of how lucky I am because I have you."

"Jaemin." you mumbled his name, voice barely above a whisper as to not ruin the moment.

The noises from the television became static and all of a sudden, all you can focus on was your 'best friend'

"I don't really know how to explain it. I love you?" Jaemin questioned, like he was talking to his self, "That may be it but believe me when I say that I will take a bullet for you."

Jaemin slowly leaned down, his face mere inches away from your own, "You're that precious for me."

"Jaemin." you gripped his shirt tightly, "I love you too." you confessed, and that was all it took for him to seal your lips together in a silent pact that he belongs to you, and you belong to him.

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect that you'll be kissing your friend in your living room, more so when it's a passionate one.

"I'll show you," Jaemin mumbled on your neck, his mouth pressing wet kisses all over your neck.

"I'll show you how much you mean to me."

You never doubt his words, if it's Na Jaemin, then you're sure as hell that he'll do everything that he says.

After all, he's the man who's willing to die for you.

[a-casual-kpopfan]

At Peace. - JiU

A/N: Heavily inspired by a different fic, and I mean very heavily. Quite a short one but wanted to do something different, doesn't mean I am fully back from my break. - Ghost

~~~~~

“I’m not drunk!”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say…”

In the dimly lit hallway of a complex, two figures could be seen dragging themselves along the walkway, well, to be more precise, one was dragging the other.

“Jin! I am not drunk!” the clearly drunken figure yelled, leaning onto the other one for support.

“Uh huh, sure….” Said the other figure, Jin. “Stay still please.” He said as he pulled out the key for the apartment, unlocking it before pulling the other person through the door.

Despite being dragged through the room, the other person kept smiling to themselves before being situated on the couch. Jin knelt in front of them, one hand slapping their cheek lightly.

“Oi, JiU?” He asked.

“Hmm?” The other person, now known as JiU, reacted to her name being called.

“How many fingers am I holding?” Jin held 2 fingers.

“Five!” JiU giggled, her behavior in a way like a kid seeing their favorite toy.

Sighing to himself, Jin then stood up. “I’ll fetch you some water.” Moving to the kitchen, he muttered to himself as he poured her a glass of water. “And she was the one that started this…”

Dialing back a couple of hours ago, JiU was the one that unapologetically barged into Jin’s apartment, and dragging him to some party of her friend, saying that ‘you can’t keep yourself holed up like this!’. Fast forward till present, here they were, at JiU’s apartment, where you had to act as her ‘bodyguard’ and brought her back safely to her home.

Despite all the grumblings Jin had, a small smile still plastered on his face. After all, JiU just wanted him to be happier, though her way of doing it might be a bit wrong.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he returned to the living room with 2 glasses of water “Here’s your water-” only to be met with JiU fast asleep, leaning against the couch. Her chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths.

Jin felt a smile creep up on his face. Setting the 2 glasses down, he pulled out his phone for a couple of pics, mainly for teasing materials later.

“JiU?” Jin called her name softly. He knew firsthand how much of a bitch it was to fall asleep in wrong positions, then to wake up with aches all over the body. Kneeling next to her, he called her again, but with her real name this time. “Minji?”

Nothing.

She seemed to be too deep in sleep to even care at this point.

It took Jin a while to decide what to do next, not knowing whether or not he wants to help Minji get more comfortable, at the cost of intruding more inside her home, or leaving, and leaving Minji to deal with the aches and a hangover tomorrow.

It didn’t take him long to reach a decision.

First, though, Jin looked around her apartment to locate where her bedroom was, despite him visiting her apartment quite often, to the point of having the extra key just in case - It was the same for her, actually, having gone to his place so much that he’d rather give her a key then having to open the door for her every time.

It took him a while to actually locate the bedroom and open its door in advance before returning to the couch.

“Minji,” Jin called her gently, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing her shoulder. “Don’t make me carry you to bed.”

All he got in response was the slightest of hums.

A yawn struck Jin, seeing how relaxed and content Minji was, sleeping on her couch. His drowsiness was starting to sink in. Turning his attention back to Minji, he might as well take matter into his own hands. After all, he already predicted things would go like this.

“Alright.” Jin chuckled “You asked for this.”

Jin looped Minji’s arm around his neck, half expecting her to wake up. But all he got was some mumbling and stirring. When Minji stopped stirring, Jin then slides one arm around her slender back, and the other underneath her legs. With little resistance, Jin scooped Minji up in his arms. She really was out cold.

It wasn’t the first time Jin had tucked a sleeping woman into bed. God knows how many times she fell asleep-

Before Jin’s mind could wander, he snapped himself back. Now was not the time for it.

Nestled in his arms, Minji’s head lolled the side, nuzzling into Jin’s neck. Her soft, warm breaths made his hair stand on end. This sensation hit a bit too close to home.

Gently, Jin made his way to her bedroom before dumbfoundedly staring at the bed- He didn’t know which side Minji usually sleeps on. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that there was an end table on the left side of the bed – He blamed his own drowsiness for that.

A bittersweet smile tugged on his lips. It was the same for her as well.

Taking a breath, Jin approached the left side of the bed before easing Minji down onto her bed. The dress she was wearing did not look like the most comfortable thing to sleep in, but considering how Minji passed out on the couch, Jin doubted that she even noticed. As close as they were, there were still some boundaries to be kept, and Jin obviously would never cross it. He just wanted her to be comfortable sleeping in her own bed.

To that end, he took hold her Minji’s legs, gently easing those heels off her feet and setting them on the floor. Why did women love to wear heels, he would never be able to understand, especially when it left their feet hurt all over. His hand unconsciously stayed on the smooth skin of her legs a second longer, another habit he had that was hard to get rid of. He could blink and be back to her room, tucking her in after a long night of working, hoping she would get a wink of sleep before a new day began. Jin withdrew his hands before his throat could get any tighter from the memories resurfacing in his thoughts.

Jin took a seat at the edge of the bed and slowly pulled the comforter up. Once it was in place, Jin noticed the makeup on Minji’s face. It wasn’t much, rather light actually. But leaving it on wouldn’t be good for her skin. And so, after turning on her night lamp and rummaging through Minji’s makeup table – Jin planned to apologize about it later when she was sober – he found all the necessary stuff to remove her makeup.

With makeup wipes in his hand, Jin gently wiped her face, slowly and carefully so that she wouldn’t be woken up. His eyes squinting due to the limited light that he had, but rather that than waking her up with the sudden brightness. The more his hand moved, the more his mind slipped back into the memories, of him wiping off her makeup whenever she was too tired to do so, how her gentle smile brought a smile on his own face as he focused on cleaning her face. But not anymore.

With practiced hands, Minji’s face was soon free of makeup. Minji finally stirred then, her smooth hair spread out on the pillow, like a jet-black river flowing around her head. Jin couldn’t help himself reaching out to tuck a few strands of hair away from her face. His hand lingered, thumb stroking gently along her cheek.

Jin couldn’t help but feel relief as he saw how Minji was finally resting. She had been overworking herself too much, not just in her work, but in helping him as well. The reason why he went out with her today was partly because of that.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin removed his hand from her face and stood up.

It was then that Minji stirred. Her eyes opened slightly, barely a crack, as she shifted her head to look at Jin. He held her gaze for a while, until Minji pulled her arms out from underneath the covers. She reached out to Jin, holding onto his hand with one hand, while the other landed at the spot next to her on the right side of the bed.

“Stay,” Minji mumbled, her lips formed a small, yet tired smile. “Please.”

Jin found it far too easy to accept her invitation. He was already smiling back and whispering, “Okay.”

Her contentment shone bright on Minji’s sleepy feature. She gave his hand a squeeze before releasing him. Jin made his way to the other side of the bed and emptied his pockets. His phone, wallet and keys were placed on the dresser near his side.

Shedding his outer jacket, Jin only now realized how cold the room was, and eased himself into Minji’s bed on the right side. All the ghosts of familiarity made themselves known to him once again. The way his foot brushed against Minji’s legs as he tucked himself in. The give of the mattress under her slender body. The soft sounds of her breathing in there, no, her bedroom. He corrected himself. All the sensations and feelings that he had not shared with anyone but her.

Another yawn came, and Jin didn’t even bother to cover his mouth anymore, too tired for that. Glancing over to the side, Jin found Minji out cold once again, a small smile lingered on her lips. He allowed himself a moment to admire her beauty under the dim light of her night lamp.

This was foreign territory for both, crossed so easily and with little second thought. Maybe it was since they were already close friends? Minji just asked him, and he agreed, easy as that.

It was difficult to think about it. To look at all the similarities and comparisons to his late fiancé – even if he had been doing so without the slightest ill intent. His heart still ached just thinking about it – to think of her, his late fiancé, and how he would never be able to climb into bed with her the way he had just done so with Minji.

Jin instead chose to be grateful to Minji’s support and understanding, and how pivotal she was to make the pain at least bearable. After all, Jin wouldn’t be here if Minji wasn’t worried that he would be lonely, and promptly dragged him to a party so that he could have a fun time.

In all honesty, that party was anything but fun for Jin, but he was still grateful for Minji’s support, and he was content of doing just that.

And – even though he had not even thought of it – not once did he ever consider pretending that the person sleeping next to him was his late fiancé.

Jin was happy that it was Minji. That was enough. Minji was Minji – or JiU, as she liked to call herself – and that was enough. He would never pretend she was someone else. No matter how much he loved her to the depth of his heart. No matter how much her loss cut him to his very core.

Jin drifted away into sleep, easier than he had in recent memory.

[jenna-ortega]

there's been a glitch

vertigo act II

pairing - joel miller x female reader word count - 4.6k warnings - infidelity, jealousy, angst, cunnilingus, somnophilia, dub-con(not rlly but you'll see), kissing, joel isn't mean but he's stupid(as most men are) a/n: hello all! hope you're liking this new serious. let me know how you like it, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next..i may or may not heed that advice ;)

SUMMARY: joel doesn't want to acknowledge what happened. when he does acknowledge it, you don't like his decision. maybe you need to get over this. or maybe you need to show him you're something worth missing.

previous chapter - series masterlist -

series playlist by the wonderful @lovers-liability

The rest of your October was filled with the aching pains of rejections. A feeling between embarrassment and intense longing for something so out of reach, yet you’ve touched it with your fingertips. The buzzing electric of what you wanted to call a feeling deeper than impulsion. You cherish the smell of Joel on your body, clothes, and mind for the lonesome three weeks he’d left you hanging. How could he touch your body the way he did and not think to check in? 

He’s a monster. You start to believe it. Everyone in this town would throw themselves in front of a bullet for the man who makes it his mission to protect everyone in the settlement. Oh, but how could you take a bullet for the man who is seemingly behind the trigger? 

Your body has been stuck to the bed all morning. The same predicament you found yourself in yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before that. You got what you wanted, right? A taste of Joel…so why did you feel so sick about it?

A loud knock followed by the swinging of your door startled you out of bed, grabbing the closest thing,( your bedside lamp) as a weapon for the intruder. 

“Whoever you are, you better get the hell out! I’m armed!” you called down from the bedroom. Your thinly veiled threat held no weight as you heard footsteps creep closer to your door, 

“I’m serious!” you shout. 

“Alright killer, it’s just me.” 

Your shoulders immediately shrug in relief. Tommy.

You walked to your bedroom door, swinging it open and presenting your very threatening weapon,

“Any closer you woulda been picking lamp pierces out of your skin…” you smile sarcastically. 

Tommy breathes out a laugh, slowly inching to you and grabbing the lamp from your hand, placing it on top of the dresser to his right,

“You’re taking it out on the wrong brother, darlin’” his eyebrows cinch together as his gives you a toothy grin, 

“Haha. Very funny.” you cross your arms, “Why are you harassing me at the home, miller.” 

You begin to walk away from Tommy, feeling his presence follow behind closely to your bedside, 

“You love the marathon of halloween movies we play through the month…haven’t seen you at one yet. Got me worried ‘bout you” you sighed and turned to him, biting the inside of your lip, he notices your silence and continues, 

“They’re playing beetlejuice, your favorite…” 

Still nothing.

“Joel asked about you.” 

Your ears perked up and a slight smile spread across your face, blood rushing to your cheeks, “Really?” 

Tommy throws his arms to his side, “Jesus..” he says your name with a hint of disgust,

“I knew it.” he points at you, 

“No!! It’s…it’s not what you think. I don’t even care…” you lie, but you have to know

“...What did he say?” 

“Nothing. I lied.” 

You grabbed a pillow from the top of your bed and threw it at Tommy, “you asshole!” 

“I’ll shut up if you come with me to the movie.” he drives a hard bargin, 

“Fine.” 

—

Walking into the movies after not seeing the general public in broad daylight for weeks felt so odd to your eyes. The low light helps adjust your vision, and search the room for someone you know you should be ignoring. 

Check. You find a 5’2 brunette cursing like a sailor near the drinks. If she’s here he has to be here. Maybe she’s talking to….no. Not him. A slightly taller girl with tan skin and black hair…definitely not him. 

Tommy breaks you out of your trance, hand falling on your back as he pushes you further in the room.

“We’re gonna clear everything out of here and hold the halloween party here next weekend…” he leaves the statement open for you to comment,

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Remember we spoke about the matching costumes?” – 

You couldn't answer him, goosebumps adorning your body as you feel those eyes on you. A visceral reaction only he can pull from him. 

Gotcha. Joel’s eyes burn into the side of your head, scowling as his eyes trail Tommys hand on your back. Blowing out a breath of frustration as he shakes his head, 

He didn’t mean to ignore you. God he’s so stupid. He couldn’t comprehend the feelings you ignorantly ripped from him by only being true to how you felt. He’s never been pursued so unapologetically. Never had a body react like yours had to him. Vanessa was out of convenience. You are out of unadulterated chaos. Chaos he has been welcoming in each and every night with his fist wrapped tightly around himself, thinking of the sweet sounds his body pulled from you. Knowing it was him that could bring you to a blubbering mess has him coming over his knuckles with a groan. He cleared his throat as he was lost in his thoughts, not realizing the moment had come and gone of you noticing his watchful eye. 

His eyes encourage you to act a little more open, a little more…daring with Tommy. Throwing your body on his arm as you laugh, grabbing his bicep as you look up at him, 

“Hey.” Joel squeezes himself between the two of you, nodding at his baby brother and throwing him a glaring look, 

A few minutes go by allowing Joel to make awkward small talk with Tommy, not once inviting you into the conversation. 

You caught him looking at him, and you made a face at him. His lips going tight and his nostrils flaring, you smiled now and walked to where the 5’2 girl was standing just half an hour ago. 

Only one set of footsteps trail behind, 

“Can we talk?” he whispers, but you pretend you can’t hear as you continue to walk, 

“Can’t hear you.” you’re petty. 

“I said–” he grabs the inside of the elbow and pulls you to a stop, “can.we.talk?” he enunciates his words in a low but menacing tone, 

“Haven’t wanted to talk in the past three weeks.” you make sure the coldness in your voice is evident. 

You look up at him through your eyebrows, crossing your arms as you look his face over once again. Even now he’s so handsome. Dark blue t-shirt, and regular jeans on. He could make the simplest outfits into pieces you’d worship. Your eyes trail down from his eyes to his neck. Redness prominent in his skin. You follow a vein with your eyes, getting lost as you land on his  flexing arm, snapping in your face, bringing you back to earth. 

“Are ya even listenin’ to me?” he says, and you stay silent. Letting him continue. 

“I know i’ve been –” you interrupt him, “a dick.” “distant.” he corrects you, huffing at your immature language. 

You have a stare off as the world spins around you both. How could nobody see the way your chest must be protruding from how hard your heart is beating. Your body in flight or fight mode, from something so little yet so big in your mind. He doesn’t deserve this reaction from you. He deserves nothing from you. You knew what happened between the two of you wouldn’t solve anything. But god, you asked him to stay. All he had to do was stay. 

“Maybe we can speak more privately?” he asks, tone lighter as he begins recognizing your signs of overstimulation, 

“Sorry, Tommy is waiting for me.”

“and is Tommy your date?” he states plainly. “Guess he looks enough like me for your taste.” His eyes flicker darker than before, jealousy spilling from his lips.

You slap Joel’s arms.

“Knock it off.” you warn.

“Tomorrow. Noon. Let’s talk. Come to my place.” he states, 

“What? So you can kidnap me and sell my organs on the black market…” you huff, beginning to walk away. “No thank you”,

He once again grabs your arm back, bringing you into the conversation you so desperately want out of. 

“You ain’t a kid, can’t kidnap you.” 

“I am. I am a child of god.” you joke, tilting your head in amusement. 

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not offering. I’m telling. You don’t show up, I come to you.” he steps further in your space, looking down at you, begging you to come back at him. 

You furrow your brows at him, whimpering in defeat, 

“Noon. Tomorrow.” 

—

Your legs go to mush as you walk step by step up to his porch. Not sure if you want to throw up or throw hands. 

Would you forgive him this easily if he asked? But what really was there to forgive…did he wrong you? Are you the one that should be upset? Maybe you’ve been acting erratic about this. Your self observation is cut short by the opening of a door, Joel standing in his doorway with his wide brown eyes, looking you up and down, smirking as you stand in front of him swaying. 

You both don’t greet each other. He gestures for you to come in, a polite smile is how you respond. Walking further into his place until he paces in front of you, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a mug from his cabinets,

You watch him delicately pour a brown substance, eyes squinting just as he looks up at you,

“Poison?” you question.

“Coffee.” he states blankly. 

He finishes his pours, pushing one mug over to you slowly, “milk’s in the fridge if you care for it.” 

A few awkward beats of silence arise between the two of you while you both sip down. The bitter liquid burning your tongue a bit, he catches the wince in your face, “‘s hot.” he warns then, 

You nod at him, putting the heavy cup down and sighing. Joel mimicking your actions, 

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s everything you wanted to hear from him. So why is your stomach sinking at the words?

“For what?” you want to hear more. You want to make him acknowledge his careless actions. 

“For what happened between us–” he blinks downward, inside of his cheek catching on his teeth. He looks distraught, “I wasn’t thinking,” he continues, but you cut him off

“Wasn’t thinking?” you scoff, “wasn’t thinking when you stuck your dick halfway in me?” your stomach burns at the way he listens to your words, anger now apparent in all the small twitches you see adorning his face. 

“Joel…” you whisper, out of ammunition. “Why am I here?” 

The hairs on your body rise as his heavy boots walk to you, standing in front of your body as you turn on the chair, back slightly grazing his table. His eyes get softer as he looks at you, you know whatever he has to say isn’t good. With how hard of a time he’s having doing anything other than look at you as if you are an object he’s scared to break. Not a person he’s destroyed,, rather something he’s destroyed. Does he even see you as human? Why would he play with your emotions like this if he cared about the emotional wellbeing of others? Throughout this whole experience the same sentiment comes up…how is this the same Joel Miller everyone loves? How is this the same Joel Miller that you love, like?

“We…” he begins. “We can’t do whatever–” he points to the both of you, “this is” 

You’re silent. 

“I can’t give you what you want from me right now. I can’t hurt Vanessa, it’s too messy.”  his voice is soft, hands come to find yours. He’s trying, he’s trying so hard to do this right. Do right by you. But you’ll never believe that. You’ll never believe him. 

“I know, you don’t like mess.” your voice breaks as you whisper, looking down at where your hands connect. 

“I want you to get over this. I want to see you happy.” he pleads, 

“I’d be happy with you” a tear slides down your cheek as you tighten your grip on his hands. 

“You can't. We can’t” you notice how pained he looks, eyes red and glassy, 

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” you didn’t imagine you’d be saying this to him today. He apologized, and is doing everything right. Why do you want him to be the bad guy so bad? 

You stand, getting even closer to him as he refuses to budge backwards. 

“What is this–” your hand lands on his heart, “telling you to do?” 

He shakes his head, grabbing your hand off his chest and kissing the palm. Then kissing the back of your hand. Kissing up your arm, and then wraps your arms around his chest, being the first to break the heavy tension in the air by devouring your lips in his. You moan in his mouth, both of you smiling into one another. 

Your hands find the bottom of his plaid shirt, unbuttoning the last button with your mouth attached to him. Your fingers finding his second button, surprised when he stops you and pushing your body away as if you’ve hurt him. 

“We can’t…” he shakes his head as he looks away, “shit…we can’t.” he says your name sternly. 

“Please–” you beg. You begin crying in front of him, not quite sobbing, but tears are expelled from your eyes at an alarming rate. 

“Tell me you care about me. I know you care about me.” you demand, poking at his chest while looking at the tall man who’s looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed, 

“ ‘course I care ‘bout you, princess.” he reassures you, “You mean something.”

“Then show me how much I mean to you.” you’re beginning to lose all sight of why you came here. Your emotions take over any rational thoughts you would have had in this moment. All your mind cares about is not losing Joel. Never wanting to lose Joel.

You rush him, trying to unbutton the loose shirt again. Throwing yourself at him erratically, 

“Stop.” you don’t stop. Continuing to try and take his shirt off, hands reaching his belt and taking the leather out of its loop, “Please.”

He backs up, trying to deter your behavior. “Hey, hey, we can’t.” he doubles down, not wanting to physically hurt you but feeling as though that would be the only way to get you off of him. 

“I’ll change your mind, please let me change your mind.” you sound unhinged. Your voice shakes as you continue down onto your knees, unbuckling his belt,

You’re ripped up painfully, Joel’s hands squeeze the inside of your arm, “NO.”

He throws you back, readjusting himself in the process. His eyes look sad, watching as you sob to yourself in front of him. Your palms wipe away your incessant tears, looking down at your hand to see mascara marks. 

“I think this talk is over.” His stance on this has you sniffling, looking at him as if he’s your number one enemy now. For just speaking the truth, for trying not to hurt you. 

“Joel, don't do this.” you're almost silent, “I’m sorry.”

As the silence lingers in the room, both of you looking at each other and not knowing where to go…your heads turn to the side hearing the door close shut. It’s her. Vanessa. 

And you can’t do this. You can’t go through this again. You feel trapped, the walls are closing in on you and everyone is laughing at you. This is wrong. This is so wrong. You book it out of there. Leaving the two people alone with themselves. 

You’re halfway home when they have their conversation. 

“What happened?” she asked, 

And he lied, like he’s been doing so many times recently, “Tommy’s been a dick. Tryna help ���er out with my baby brother.” 

—

Halloween night is a night in Jackson that feels so much like the real world. Costumes, candy, alcohol, boo’s, everything October should be. You needed to keep your mind off of him, that’s how you find yourself bartending with Tommy for Jackson’s halloween bash. 

“Where’s your tail?” you scream over the loud party at Tommy, who’s pouring a drink on the rocks for some sexy bunny at the bar. 

“I’m one’a those dogs without one.” he admits, 

“Tommy…i don’t think that’s a thing.” you laugh at him, “Look..” you shake your tail at him. “We were supposed to have matching tails.” you laugh. 

You both planned on matching costumes, a sexy cat, and….a tailless dog? 

It’s been a week since you’ve seen Joel, and you’re happy. You feel like a fool for throwing yourself at him, and being so shameless. He’s not worth it. He so is. No. He’s not. He is.

“Ya okay?” Tommy sees the inner argument with yourself, dragging a shot your way. “Take it. Make the night more fun.” 

And boy was the night fun, watching all the different costumes in the room. Dancing behind the bar with Tommy, forgetting everything this month has done to you. You needed this, you really did. It’s well within the night and he hasn’t shown up. 

You’re happy he hasn’t. Why does he get to ruin your night with his presence? Fuck him. Your drunk thoughts are heavy tonight, woo’ing at everything and shaking your tail whenever the band plays anything with a bass. 

The bar encourages your shots, you and Tommy feeding each other them throughout the night. And when you both feel just drunk enough to not fear consequences, you hop on top of the bar laying down, pulling up your black shirt to reveal your stomach. Tommy pouring peach flavored run on you, and licking up your stomach to your rib cage to your chest, laughing as he slurps up the rest of the shot. The whole bar is cheering, and your eyes catch his finally. 

Fuck he looks good. He’s in his cowboy hat, and has a rag around his neck. Denim shirt and those fucking boots. He’s everything you remembered him to be, and better. He’s gorgeous. And he’s looking right at you, his eyes burn into your body. He’s upset. 

You turn to face the cheering crowd again smiling, and try to find him in the crowd again, but he’s lost. You don’t think about him for the rest of the night. 

—

It’s just a little past midnight when you’re almost home. Appreciating the makeshift Halloween decorations, you come closer in view to your house. 

Your heart drops as you see a figure near your door, now wishing you took Tommy up on that offer to walk you home. 

You walk closer to your home, trying hard to quietly close in on the figure without him noticing. That is until your porch lights come on, and the figure is revealed. You jump slightly before you realize you’re safe. It’s Joel.  

He turns around sloppily to look at you, scoffing as you come closer to your own property, 

“Well look who finally decided to show up–” he hiccups, “Oh, it’s only 1 am.” he emphasizes.

“That’s when the party ended.” you’re not in the mood. 

“Guess you didn’t want any more bodyshots huh? Had to come home cause–” hiccup, “there was no one else to bat your pretty lil eyes at?” 

Oh he’s drunk. You smile to yourself, feeling almost happy you’ve now gotten to see the always put together man not put together. 

“Come inside,” you walk past him and unlock your door, “You’re trashed.” 

“I’m not trash.” he whispers drunkenly to himself as he walks in behind you, completely mishearing what you said. 

He belches up beer bubbles as he walks further in, he rubs his eyes as he stumbles to your living room couch. Falling to it with a loud “thump” 

You decide this is your time to annoy him. He shows up to your house drunk and unannounced…you figure you’re allowed to berate him. 

“Don’t speak for a week, now this?” you question, plopping down next to him. Crossing your legs into themselves. 

“I ain’t had the best night.” he admits, grunting as lays back. 

“This the part where you want me to ask what happ–” he interrupts you, “Vannesa ain’t want nothing to do with me no more.” 

At this moment, you know you’ve wanted to hear those words for months. You want to smile and laugh and feel great, but watching him like this makes you feel the exact opposite. You feel bad for him. Seeing him in pain like this, you just want to make it better. 

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” he states dryly, 

“But it does,”

“No…the only thing that matters right now–” he slides himself over to you, pushing you down as both his hands catch your wrists, forcing your thighs around his big ribcage, “is you”

You start to laugh, having a giggling fit underneath him. His face scrunches in confusion, mesmerized by your smiles lines, “Why ya laughin, princess?” he asks, and you use all your force to push him off you. Earning a small but stern, “hey,” in defeat from him.

“Go to sleep. You’re drunk and reek of IPA.” you push him down further, pointing at him and mouthing “stay” 

You work on getting his boots off for him, unlacing and unbuckling them, pulling them off and placing them next to him. Your hand traces the rag around his neck, finding the knot in the back, and before you’re able to help, he grabs your wrist, pulling you down closer to him, 

“I don’t want you workin’ at the bar anymore.” his voice is low, but has a tint of malice to it

“Who are you to tell me that?” you answer him defensively, 

“Someone who cares about whether men gauk at you,” he’s upset, 

“You have no right to tell me what to do.” you double down on that, wondering where this has come from all of a sudden. Why does he think he has any say in what you do with your life, when just a week ago he was making sure your lives were never melded again. 

He lets go of your hand and slouches back against the couch, “Fine, maybe I don’t have a right. It still upsets me.” For someone who’s drunk right now, he sure does explain himself far better than when he’s sober.

“Let’s talk in the morning.” you begin helping him take his shirt off, looks like some sort of drink spilled on him. As you get close to him, unbuttoning the denim, feeling odd at how this exact scenario plays entirely different just a week ago, he reaches up and tries to kiss you. You swerve him. “You smell like Jack Daniel’s and Cigars,” you say in disgust, 

“You smell like Vanilla and cotton candy,” he says in a dreamy voice, he catching you off guard as he grabs your hand again and sucks your pointer finger, and you feel the vibration of his groan on you as you pull away hastily, you push him down and once again warn him,

“Stay. Sleep.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You grab him some lukewarm water and whatever pills you’re able to muster up for the hangover you know he’s going to have in the morning. You place down the items next to him, and notice he’s already out cold. 

—

You’re dreaming of him. His hands on your body, tearing you apart. The way his beard would rub against your thighs as you squirm beneath him. God, it feels so good to dream like this. To have a place you both can be so unapologetically together. Your body is heating up, you feel yourself slipping away from the dream world. You don’t want to leave, you feel too good. You wanna stay. You wanna, — oh, 

You jolt up and moan as you feel yourself gushing, the feeling of your hips pushed down to prevent you from squirming are extremely evident and real as you look down and see a messy bead of brown curls between your legs. “Good mornin’,” his southern twang evident in his sultry voice as he continued to lick stripes up your fold, 

“Joel–what, what are you doing?” you question through your breaths, your eyes shut as your body tenses from his lips suctioning onto your clit, he groans and the vibrations send signals to your spine to arch, moaning his name loudly as you do, 

“Thanking you for taking such good care of me last night.” his hot breath against you cunt, 

Your head turns to look outside, still dark. It can’t be past 4am. Your head is forced to look back down as you scream from shock at the loud ‘slap’ you hear as his hand collides forcefully down on your cunt, rubbing and playing with you as you’re dazed out from sleep. 

“Such a good princess for me, always so good for me.” he praises as his lips go back to your core, his strong tongue entering your and pistoling back and forth inside of you. Your hand reaches to grab hold of his curls, his arm, his hand splaying out across your lower stomach to hold you still, he’s all over you, he’s all around you. You never want to be woken up another way. 

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue darlin’, can you do that?” you whimper, your hands holding the pillow next to you in a death grip, your eyes locked onto one another as you shake your head frantically, 

“Words. I need words.” he slaps down on your cunt, offering a sigh of pain from you as you obey his command, “I can do that. I can do it. Please, Joel” 

He says your name sternly, forcing your eyes to yet again stay locked into his brown one. God he’s beautiful, between your thighs and sprawled out on your bed. He couldn’t help himself when he woke up, head banging from the endless amount of liquor he’d ingested. He saw the water, the pills, his boots perfectly placed next to him. Even when he was out of line, you did all this for him. You gave him a safe space, even when he took away all of yours. Walking to come find you, he saw your halloween costume in various places in your room, your body on its back and breathing peacefully. God you’re amazing. He knew that, his eyes trailing down your body, your night down short and silk. Do you always sleep in this? Easy access. He thinks, and his mind can’t stop his body from pulling your sheets down, hands finding your calves and trailing up the sides of your thighs. Finding the one spot he knows is his, he’s going to take it. 

And that’s exactly what he does when he elicits the loudest noises from you when his tongue is inside of you, lapping up your juices as his fingers rub tight circles on your clit. He’s taking, taking, taking, and boy do you have so much to give him. He groans painfully into you as you pull his long locks while you cum on, rubbing your core on his face, feeling his nose on you as he pulls his fingers away. You rub yourself on his face for a little longer, twitching at the aftershocks of what only he knows how to pull from you. Sinking back down into the bed as your heavy breathes even out. Come still dripping from you as he carefully places your nightgown back over yourself, kneeling out from between your legs and crawling next to you in bed. Pulling the covering up onto you and him.

It’s not lost on you how much you know this changes so much for you. And when his large hands pull you into his chest, feeling his warm stomach against your back. You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does.

[imtrashraccoon]

This chapter turned out much different than I planned but it's a good change. I have learned that my biggest writing weakness is impulse. I usually only struggle when I impulsively decide to change or write something else.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - PJs

Word Count: 2,153

You were thinking about going to bed soon when a gentle knock sounded on your front door. You were already in your pajamas and it was rather late, so who could be at your door?

You retrieved your brass knuckles and slipped them on just in case. Taking a peek through the peephole, you were relieved to see that it was only Nightmare standing outside. Then the absurdity of this situation set in and you did a double take, looking again.

What was he doing outside your door?

Setting the weapons aside, you unlocked the door and opened it. "Hi, uh... I wasn't expecting you..." You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck before adding, "What's the occasion?"

His permanent smile widened and he let out a soft chuckle. "I just wanted to come see you in person, my dear. I hope I'm not intruding?" His tentacles slowly undulated behind him as he spoke.

You shrugged your shoulders and stood back from the door to let him in. "Nah, I don't mind," you answered.

Once he'd come inside, you shut the door again and turned to him. "It's a bit late to really do anything together. So, unless you wanted to do something, is this like...a sleepover?" You couldn't help teasing him a little bit as you still weren't sure what he thought of you.

He seemed kind of confused and he studied you quietly for a moment. "Did you want me to stay over?" he asked in a soft voice.

You hadn't expected him to seem actually interested but you nodded. "Yeah, if you're able to I wouldn't mind. I've been a bit lonely lately, you know?"

His bonebrows furrowed with concern but he said nothing. He didn't need to anyways as you both knew what the reason for that was. You hadn't heard from any of your skeleton friends all week, and while spending time with Nightmare in the dream world was nice, you couldn't help missing your other friends too.

You decided to focus on something else rather than spoil a potentially fun evening. So, you started to pull out a bunch of extra blankets and pillows from your closet. Nightmare just sort of watched while you set about arranging them into a comfy nest of sorts on the floor in the living room.

You'd experienced very few actual sleepovers growing up, but thanks to the magic of tv and movies, you knew approximately what to do. It helped that you were already in your pajamas, even if they weren't cute ones and literally just a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. While you didn't feel like making snacks, you could watch some random television together if Nightmare wanted to join you.

He was still just quietly watching you and it was making you wonder if he was alright. So, you decided to try and distract him.

"Do you have like...a favorite pair of pajamas, like something that's really warm and comfy? Or do you not care for that sort of thing?" You glanced over at him once you were satisfied with the blanket nest and tilted your head curiously for his response.

He got a bit of an amused look and shook his skull. "I do have pajamas but I don't actually require sleep, with the whole being a god situation." He hummed in a thoughtful way and added, "I can sleep I suppose but it doesn't give any real benefits whether I do or not."

"Huh... I guess that makes sense." You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "I didn't even consider you may not have to deal with fatigue like the rest of us."

He chuckled, "That's not entirely correct... Using too much magic is still tiring of course but that's not usually an issue." He glanced around before adding, "Give me a minute and I'll be back."

You nodded and watched as his body seemed to liquify before sinking into the floorboards and completely disappearing. You guessed that was his way of teleporting? Of course, he had to be much more dramatic than the boys were, who all just sort of disappeared with no melting involved.

He reappeared about a minute later just as he'd said but he was dressed differently this time. He wore gray plaid button up pajamas with a black silk bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Honestly, it was kind of basic considering his usual penchant for finery, but pajamas were supposed to be comfortable to make sleep come easier.

"It's a little over the top for sleeping, isn't it?" you joked. You kind of felt out done right now in all honesty.

Nightmare sat down next to you with a huff. "I very rarely even try to sleep, okay?" His voice had a slight growl to it and there was the faintest hint of a cyan glow over his zygomatic bones. While he was quick to mask how you'd managed to fluster him, you knew what you saw.

"I think they suit you though," you said with a hum and leaned back against the couch. "You wanna just hang out and watch tv for a bit until one of us passes out?"

"Maybe until you pass out, my dear," he teased and lightly ruffled your hair.

You shot him an annoyed look but there wasn't any malice in it. You both sat there for a while just enjoying being close and watching some random reality tv show.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" you asked after a couple minutes.

He turned, giving you his full attention. "Of course, what's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking about what you said last night and I think I would like you to draw me into an Encounter. I want to know what my soul looks like."

He studied you for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Why do you really want to know?" he asked. His voice had taken on a much more serious tone now and his eye socket was narrowed as he continued watching you.

You were a bit taken aback by his question. You were just curious as it wasn't something society had allowed you to know. There wasn't anything wrong with that, right...?

Nightmare clicked his non-existent tongue and tilted your chin up so you'd look at him again. "I don't need to be a god to know that there's another reason you want this. However, I can feel the turmoil in your soul and you really should be honest with yourself."

You sighed and fiddled with your nails. "I guess... I just want to know what all four of you see in me that's so special... Why else would any of you continue to hang around?"

You felt his tentacles slither around you and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your body as well. He held you close and gently leaned his skull against your forehead.

"You've been worrying about this for a while, haven't you?" he murmured.

"Yeah... It's only gotten worse lately..."

He ran his claws through your hair in a soothing way. "I'm sorry, I certainly didn't help with matters either I'm sure. Your soul is what makes you...you. None of us would have gotten so close with you if there wasn't something special."

You sighed, "That's the thing though... I just want to know what that is."

"It's your ability to be kind, dear." His tone sounded so confident and sure of himself that you found yourself speechless. He gave your body a light squeeze and continued, "Or rather, your ability to be kind despite everything you've been through and how you put yourself into other's perspectives."

You hummed quietly as you thought over what he'd said. Anyone could be kind though. You still didn't understand why you were different from anyone else. Surely other humans weren't so heartless like the boys had sometimes hinted at...

"That being said, would it help you feel better if I showed you?" Nightmare asked in that familiar velvety voice.

"I don't know. I want to believe it will but what if my soul doesn't look right? I don't know if it would convince me."

He gently chided you. "Your overall appearance and personality are greatly influenced by your soul. I highly doubt it will...not look right."

You sighed and wiggled in his grip until he released your body. "Okay, then I'd like to see my soul. I trust you, Nightmare."

He studied you for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I'm honoured to know that you can say that with such conviction as not many people would."

He moved his hand so that it was hovering just above your chest but he hesitated for moment and glanced up at you. When you didn't change your mind, his cyan eyelight began to burn brighter and he focused intently for a moment.

You felt a sort of pressure in your chest just below your collarbone before a small teal heart slowly emerged from your body. It glowed softly and the living room seemed to get even darker than before, even though you hadn't turned the tv off.

You knew now why Nightmare had been hesitant to actually draw you into an Encounter in the beginning. Not only did you suddenly feel incredibly exposed, but you could also see several hairline fractures criss crossing along the surface of your soul. You didn't know what they meant but you could sense that the fractures couldn't be a good thing.

Nightmare was silent and when you finally tore your gaze away from your soul, you saw the expression of contemplation that graced his skull. He seemed to sense that you were staring and his eyelight flicked up to your face again.

"Do you still doubt that you're special now?" he whispered and brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

"I..." You found yourself at a loss for words and struggled to articulate exactly what you were feeling at the moment. "I...didn't know souls were this beautiful..."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "Indeed. Not all are as beautiful as yours though."

His eyelight briefly glanced down at your soul before he looked back into your eyes again. "Your primary trait is in fact Kindness and your secondary is called Empathy. Incredibly fitting, wouldn't you say?" His tone sounded kind of like he was teasing but there was still a genuineness in his gaze at the same time.

"Yeah, it is..." You could feel yourself tearing up a little and desperately tried to keep yourself from actually crying. "What do the cracks mean?"

His eye socket narrowed and he pulled you a bit closer against himself before answering. "That's something only you can truly know. Everyone goes through events in life that can affect them in various ways. Cracks usually signify moments of hardship or negative experiences that affected you so deeply that they left a mark."

"I see..." you muttered. "It's still beautiful. Thank you for showing me, Nightmare."

He nodded and carefully guided your soul back into your body. You couldn't help letting out an inadvertent sigh of relief as the room became brighter again. He wrapped your body up in his tentacles, giving you a gentle hug.

"You're very welcome, my dear," he purred against your hair.

It was hard to focus on anything but what you'd just experienced. You felt like you should feel freaked out or at the very least embarrassed, but you didn't. Maybe it would set in at some point, but for now you had a lot to digest.

You knew what your soul trait was and yet your life seemingly hadn't changed. You were grateful that Nightmare had been willing to show you, but you weren't sure if he'd had his own reasons for doing so. It probably didn't even matter at this point anyways. If he was going to hurt you, he would have already or he could've done it while you were so vulnerable moments ago.

You were rapidly becoming more tired the longer he continued to hold you. You felt oddly safe with him though and so you didn't even question it when you inevitably fell asleep leaning against him. While you had a dreamless sleep for the first night this week, you weren't too surprised when you woke up tucked into your own bed again.

There was a note taped to your alarm clock in very intricate cursive writing, like the writer had used either a calligraphy pen or maybe an actual quill. While you had to squint and adjust how close it was to your face for a bit like a nearsighted person, you eventually were able to read it.

"Good morning dear, I am sorry that I had to leave before you woke up but please know that I enjoyed our little impromptu sleepover. I will see you soon and I hope you slept well after everything. Yours truly, Nightmare."

[joemama-2]

Always Forever

tags: angst, heartbreak, post riko death, getou spiraling and defecting

a/n: this came to me on a whim (like they all do) and i just had to write it down. first getou post woohoo!

———————————————————

have you ever loved someone so much that it physically pains you? that it weighs heavily on your mind day and night, for every fleeting second. you can do whatever you want, try however hard you think is necessary, but no matter what, they invade your mind like a nasty intruder. it's like you're bound and tied by the shackles of love herself, forbidding you from devoting yourself, your all, to anyone else. the shackles burn, sting, and pull at your skin so hard you cry and cry, just begging to be let go. but in a sense, the pain is good and overwhelming, so much so that...you start loving the pain too.

that's what getou suguru asks himself every morning.

he doesn't know where is started. you were just a simple kohai, one that didn't stand out to him. he treated you like any senpai would. he would always greet you in the halls, offer you advice and tips about techniques and fighting. were you friends? peers? schoolmates? who knows. maybe it happened when you asked the simple question on one random sunny day. you two were under a tree, eating lunch together (more like you just found him alone one time and sat next to him, to which he was too generous to tell you to move).

"how do curses taste?"

your voice is innocent, so is the question. he shouldn't have thought too much about it. you were just curious. but is it really so bad of him when his stomach flutters with an unknown feeling, eyes widening with a newfound sense of....what was it?

"i bet they're as gross as they look, huh?" you smile politely, fork that just jabbed at your egg roll next to your lips. lips that suddenly look too pink, too wet, and too soft.

he clears his throat. what are you thinking? "i wouldn't recommend it." he says in his usual smooth voice, the corner of his lip quirked upwards. "it's not very appealing to the human tastebuds."

with a hum, you respond. "so like, a dirty rag that was used to clean throw up?"

and once again, you surprise him. he softly chuckles, eyes crinkling. "that's exactly how they taste."

and so this became a routine of your guys'. having lunch under the same tree, sometimes switching or sharing lunches. it felt nice, domestic even. sure he had satoru and shoko, and sure they were his close friends too, but you felt different. you were different. it's why he hated leaving you. he enjoyed your presence and mundane questions, sought them out like they were his favorite things in the entire world. maybe they were.

it was like everything changed overnight. you saw him leave as getou suguru, and when he came back, he was somebody else. could you voice this to him? no, you couldn't. maybe you were just that cowardly. and sometimes you think back and wonder "what would've happened if you did say something?". would things have been different? changed? would you be happier? would you not have to wake up longing for someone who was gone?

you're not sure what's worse, mourning someone who died, or mourning someone who's alive, and just doesn't want to be found.

you ran, and ran, and ran once you heard news of what he did. the atrocities he committed. you curse yourself with tears stinging your eyes as they blur your vision. you should've done something. you saw how he was hurting when he came back, how he even lost weight, and you didn't do a single thing. hope was your friend, you hoped you could continue your routines together as if nothing happened, as if that would simply pull him out of this dark hole he found himself in.

you hate yourself. and never, will you be able to forgive yourself.

but, you could forgive him.

it's why you pushed everything aside, everyone aside to see him one more time. did you think you could maybe get him to come back? see that what he did was wrong? but what would've that helped? if he came back, he would be executed. it was a lose-lose situtation.

you stood before him, tears running down your face and panting.

"why?" is all you could muster out, fists clenching by your sides.

if he's bothered by the tears, he doesn't say anything or show it. he's cold, different. "i've chosen my own destiny, i hold no regrets for my actions."

your eyes are wide, feeling every single shard of glass his words send right into your heart and stomach. "h-how could you?"

he puts his hands in his pockets, concealing the amount of restraint it's taking to not hold you in his arms. "everything has a reason, my actions are justi--"

"you're a murderer." you hiccup out.

"i am."

"what about everyone else? satoru? me?" you add emphasis to the last part, hands shaking as you pull out one of his own, holding it like it's your lifeline. and maybe it was. because with one tentative, but gentle grip, he pulls your hand away.

that was the last time you ever touched him, that he touched you.

"i've though about it all, about you, and i still pushed forward. you want to know why? because no matter what, no matter how hard I tried, I could never be happy."

and those words, those five words, have forever changed you. you could never hear those words the same again after that. you hate those words.

"if you wish to kill me, you can." with that, he turns around and walks away. walks away from the jujutsu society, from his former life, from his friends, from you.

of course, he knows you couldn't kill him, even if you wanted to. but you didn't want to. because all you wanted was your getou back, but your getou wanted nothing to do with him.

so, for the question "have you ever loved someone so much it physically pains you?"

you can, getou concedes.

so much that you start hating everything about them.

which is why he had to leave you.

and even years later, you reside in his mind, taking up every crook and nanny. never will he be able to get rid of you.

for you, getou was your number one, with him, it was always forever.

you guess they're right...love is the most twisted curse of them all.

both of you had the displeasure of tasting it, and it was completely and utterly disgusting.

he hates you, but getou suguru hates loving you even more.

[thirtysixsavefiles]

A companion to this eternal sunshine post — Zoro's pov of that morning after

~~~

Zoro stands in the spray of the shower and asks himself what the fuck he thinks he's doing.

The shower looks the same, if a bit cleaner, than the last time he had used it. Sanji still uses the same expensive shampoo and conditioner. Zoro soaps himself up with Sanji's body gel and deliberately doesn't think about how now he'll smell like Sanji all day. If this scent and the pleasant ache in his muscles is the only thing he takes away with him of Sanji —

It will be enough. It will have to be enough.

Running into Sanji again had been an accident — Zoro had been careful, so careful, to avoid all of their old haunts, their old favorite places. For six months he's been so fucking good, building a separate life for himself on the other side of the city, and it isn't his fault that Sanji had intruded on that, even accidentally. It is Zoro's fault that he hadn't left when a pair of bright blue eyes had caught his, that he hadn't shut down the conversation when it had started, that he had accepted the invitation to go home with Sanji.

Sanji had looked so much lighter, like Zoro had never made his face turn red in frustration and rage. Like the screams and the tears had never happened. Zoro supposes that for Sanji, this is true.

Zoro shuts the water off. Just one night, he promises himself. Just the one night — he'll go downstairs and he'll offer a polite goodbye and he'll be out of Sanji's life. Again. He'll be a one-night stand that Sanji can remember fondly, which is better than any of the alternatives Zoro had ever given him.

The house is much the same. Sanji hasn't done much with it; Zoro passes what used to be his weight room, now empty except for a few storage boxes in the corner. There aren't many pictures hanging — there never had been — but Zoro pauses in front of a framed print of the ocean. Sanji had lingered in front of the original for long minutes, long enough for Zoro to move on and come back, resulting in a low-voiced argument in the middle of the gallery about appreciating art, mosshead.

Zoro still doesn't see what the big deal is, but he'd bought the print and had it framed. He's vaguely surprised to see it still hanging here, but he supposes that to Sanji it's just a pretty picture, now.

Something smells amazing in the kitchen, and his ambitions to make a quick escape die in the face of the coffee Sanji slides across the counter. A quick coffee — and maybe breakfast — won't hurt anything. Zoro takes a sip and feels something in him ache; the cup is just the way he would make it himself, and when Sanji asks after it all Zoro can say is, "it's perfect." This morning, with the sun warming the kitchen and the smell of food cooking, with Sanji bustling around like he'd never screamed at Zoro to get out, is perfect. Zoro never wants to leave.

Sanji's phone vibrates, and he ignores it. Zoro sips his coffee, perfectly made, watching Sanji cook and it's so much like the best of how things used to be that his chest aches.

Sanji's phone vibrates again. "Are you going to get that?"

"Fine." Sanji plates a delicious-smelling omelet and hands it across the counter. He picks up the phone. "This is Sanji."

Zoro digs in, only half-listening as he shovels egg in his mouth. He closes his eyes as he swallows. He's missed this; Sanji's cooking, yes, but also just being in the same space together. He's missed Sanji, as much as he's tried not to.

Then Sanji says, "Anamnesis?" and Zoro's fork falls from nerveless fingers.

“What did I erase?” Sanji is asking, and fuck, of all the fucking days for Sanji to get this call, it had to be this one.

It would have been six months ago today, Zoro realizes. He flattens his hands against the counter and bows his head. Six months. Six months of trying to put those memories to rest, of knowing he was the only one who did. No wonder he'd said yes when Sanji had asked.

“Tell me,” Sanji says flatly. “Or I’ll be at your clinic door in half an hour, and I won’t knock.”

Zoro raises his head, and the fire in Sanji's eyes catches something in his chest. Zoro has had that look directed at himself more than once, and Sanji sounds angry, like he's ready to fight over what he's lost —

Six months ago he hadn't been willing to fight.

He'd known how Zoro takes his coffee.

Zoro can't hear the other half of the conversation, but he can tell the exact moment that the clinic gives Sanji his name. He should go, should get out before Sanji kicks him out, but —

Something indefinable crosses Sanji's face, and he slowly lowers the phone and ends the call. Something sizzles in the pan on the stove and Sanji reaches over without looking and turns off the heat.

"Roronoa Zoro," he says slowly, and Zoro nods.

"I knew you," Sanji says, like he's testing the idea out. Zoro nods again.

"What the fuck," Sanji says, the old frustration creeping in, and Zoro sighs.

"I can tell you everything," he says. "But it's going to take a while."

[bingoboingobongo]

This is going to he so specific so feel free to not do this (but if you do thank you so so much) but how would the 141 + alejandro and valeria react to coming home early to surprise their s/o only to find her crying in the bathtub and cut her hair into a bob because nothing is just going for them at this point in life

task force 141 + distressed reader

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza

Warnings: um reader is going through it, also violence/guns

A/N: um u good anon?

simon "ghost" riley:

alright so it doesn't take ghost long to realize that something's going on when he gets home

the place you guys share is silent which isn't necessarily out of character but it is odd enough for him to be on edge

and then he hears you crying very faintly and he goes into panic mode

his first thought is that something bad happened or someone broke in or that you're injured

and that's really annoying because he had been planning to surprise with homemade dinner

so he drops his grocery bags and pulls out a gun and starts sweeping the house until he finds you

the good news is that there was no intruder

the bad news is that you're sobbing in the middle of the bathtub with a chunk of hair in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other

the other thing he notices is that your hair is definitely significantly shorter

ghost's not always the best at noticing small details when it comes to haircuts/spa trips but this is very obvious

because you went from long-ish hair to full on bob

honestly it's definitely doing it for him but he decides to withhold that information for the time being

he's a little taken aback and he doesn't really know what to do

he sorta scans you over and it doesn't seem like you're visibly injured so he's definitely reassured a little

he knocks on the wall so he can get your attention and when you turn to look at him it's pretty obvious you're going through it

and he hates to see you so sad but also he doesn't really know what to do

so he just sorta squats down and awkwardly pats your back while you cry

(if you've seen peacemaker it's very much like when vigilante is awkwardly rubbing peacemaker's back)

doesn't really know what to say to you though because he doesn't have much experience with people crying

definitely makes more than a few awkward comments

"i like your hair"

"did you cut it yourself?"

"do you still want dinner?"

but he's been through enough interpersonal training to not be a total idiot so he also asks if you want to talk about it

if you say no he'll gladly sit with you and continue to rub your back as you cry

and then probably let you take a nap while he cooks you your favorite dinner

and if you say yes he'll let you get it all out there

he won't say much except for the occasional grunt or head nod but you can tell he's listening

and then afterwards he'll comfort you and turn on a warm shower for you while he makes you food

he'll also clean up any fallen hair from the bathroom too

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap was really excited to get home to you because he had found something he thought you'd like at the store and he couldn't wait to give it to you

but when he opened the door and was met with crying his heart stopped

he immediately followed the sound to see you crying in the bathtub

he's not exactly the quietest guy so when he arrived you turned to face him and gestured at your hair

which was now much shorter than that morning

and cried even harder

the first thing soap does is rush to your side to give you a hug

also immediately asks about your hair because he can't help himself

now don't get him wrong he thinks you look amazing with short hair

but it was definitely a shock to see

soap's not the best at these emotionally heavy moments so he tries to lighten them up with humor

definitely makes a joke about how you should cut your hair into a mohawk so you can match with him

he keeps cracking jokes until you're able to start laughing at them

and then he'll ask you how you're doing/what happened

he'll listen to you vent about it for however long you need

and soap's a great person to vent to because he's always happy to chime in with a "oh my god no way" or a "that's so unfair you don't deserve that"

when you're finally done he'll draw a shower up for you

and then order some takeout because he's not the best cook

and then once you're out he'll turn on your favorite movie/tv show and show you what he got you

it's a little figurine from your favorite franchise that you've been wanting for a while

and then he's happy to spend the rest of the night by your side until you fall asleep

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alrighty so when the first thing gaz hears when he opens the door is the sound of crying his heart drops

gaz always always wants you to be happy so even though he doesn't know what's distressing you he knows he has to try and fix it

he immediately runs to your side as soon as he puts down his stuff

and ofc since he's military he's definitely scanning any rooms he's passing to make sure everything seems fine

he's certainly shocked to see you on the floor of the bathtub sobbing with significantly less hair

but he's slightly reassured at the fact that you're not visibly bleeding or hurt

besides your mental state of course

he's very quick to rush to your side and check up on you

he asks if you're okay and what happened

he doesn't mention the hair because he still can't really tell if that's a touchy subject

when you explain what's going on gaz's heart breaks

he feels so bad for not realizing what was going on sooner

definitely steps into the bathtub with you and holds you if you continue to cry

he can tell you kinda need this so he doesn't say much, instead he's just there to give you a shoulder to cry on

and when you've cried all the tears in your body he helps you up and takes you to the kitchen

where he makes you something quick to eat and gives you something to drink

and then he goes and gets you the gift he had been planning on surprising you with when he got home

it's a beautiful necklace with your initials on it that he's been saving up for for a while

it's not even for an anniversary or anything he just saw how beautiful it was and thought of you

john price:

alright so years of being in the military mean two things for price

one is that he is uber paranoid

so when he comes home to a relatively silent house save for the sound of you sobbing his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome

he is literally sprinting to you because he's so terrified that if he doesn't you will literally die

so in a weird way he's kinda relieved when he sees you in the bathtub with a new haircut

that being said he can also see you visibly sobbing which brings us to point number two

price is a people person

i mean he's literally a military captain you don't get there without having some bomb people skills

also like 1/3 of the people he meets are dead so he knows a thing or two about dealing with negative feelings

one of those things being that sometimes you just need to feel your feelings

he doesn't even say a word as he gets into the bathtub with you

just rubs your back and hands you a tissue as you cry

he trusts that you'll tell him what's wrong when you're ready so for now he's content to let you just cry your heart out

once all your tears have been let out he runs you a bath and gets you some water so you stay hydrated

and while you do that he reheats the takeout he got from your favorite place which he was planning to surprise you with

and when you come out he pours you a glass of your favorite drink

and spends the rest of the night just being there for you

alejandro vargas:

alright so alejandro is very particular about keeping his family life seperate from his work life so when he comes home to you crying his worst fear is that someone hurt you

he's already planning how he's gonna kill them let's be fr

anyways when he finds you sobbing in the bathtub he has three thoughts

1. omg you look so good with short hair gahhshdhsh

2. alright you're physically safe it appears so in a good and bad way the only thing hurt you is life itself

3. how do you kill life itself

he still doesn't have an answer for the third one

instead of continuing to wonder about that tho he instead runs to your side to see what happened

you explain it to him while he rubs your back and nods sympathetically

once you're done crying he lifts you up and starts running a bath

he also starts pampering you extensively

like he's out here running a whole spa just to make you feel better

ironically he had rushed home early to tell you he had gotten you a voucher for an all expenses spa trip next week

but he figures you could use a spa trip right now more

he also takes the opportunity to tell you how pretty you look with a bob while he's washing your hair

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

oh god bless rudy's poor soul

because his heart literally stops for like a full minute when the only thing he hears when he comes home is you crying

honestly if he didn't have such extensive military training he probably would've just stood there paralyzed with panic for like a full minute

but thankfully his training has him running to your side to see what's going on

and seeing you in tears has him in tears let's be so fr

he's immediately running to give you a hug and trying to shower you in praises in an attempt to make you feel better

honestly he's so distracted with helping you he doesn't even realize the haircut at first

and i mean he is just desperate to make sure you're okay

like he's literally falling over himself and doing everything possible to make sure that you're fine

he practically begs for you to tell him what happened so he can figure out who he needs to go fight

and like alejandro his heart literally shatters when he finds out it's not really anyone in particular but more so just life generally being annoying

but honestly rudy is so eager he would find a way to punch life in the face just for you

he's absolutely beside himself trying to take care of you

like even he has to take a minute to calm down because he's so panicked he's not thinking straight

but when his head is screwed on right he manages to run you a shower and find you a cold glass of water

when you come out is when he finally notices your haircut

and he is absolutely in love

he doesn't even usually care much about how your hair looks but seeing it short is so pretty on you

he also makes you a warm meal to eat afterwards

and it takes him until the next morning to remember to gift you the movie tickets he had been planning to surprise you with the night before

valeria garza:

okay so when valeria comes home and hears you crying she is seeing red

she doesn't know who did this to you but she knows she is going to find them and make sure they don't live to ever do it again

she's already planning out how to track them down while she's running to your side

the first thing she notices is your hair which she is in love with

and then she realizes she needs to stop focusing so much on revenge right at this moment and focus on making sure you're okay

she's quick to get in the bathtub with you and wipe away your tears

immediately asks what's wrong and will persist until you tell her

after which she will hold you to her chest and rub your back as you cry

little do you know she's trying to figure out who she can get revenge on to make this better

once you're done crying though she runs you a bath and grabs you a glass of water

and she'll stay by your side to wash you hair and just make sure you're safe

she also makes a joke about you wanting to copy her haircut

but she also lets you know how amazing she thinks you look with it

when you're out she orders some takeout and then shows you the gift she had been planning to surprise you with

it's a brand new set of clothes you had been eyeing for the past week or two

she makes you promise to wear it tomorrow because she's gonna take you out to make sure you feel better

[virgobingo]

What's your take on the way Gojo dresses after being unsealed? Other than the fact the after he changed outfit he got killed, so maybe he shouldn't have done that...also, merry Christmas/have a happy Monday!

happy holidays! hope you're well :)

gojo's outfits can be tied to his emotional arc. i know you asked specifically of his outfits after being unsealed but i think context is needed to see where i'm coming from.

when we first meet gojo in jjk0, his outfit is oversized and his eyes are covered— it hardly gives away his body language, or any emotions he's feeling, really, unless he's being particularly boisterous.

which sort of makes him an enigma to his students who haven't been in jujutsu society as long as he has; who don't know him or his past. the scene where he goes from sunglasses and casual clothes (when he meets the higher-ups) to bandages and uniform (when he goes to meet his students) comes to mind.

while the bandages within the world of jujutsu kaisen maybe simply serve the purpose of relieving the strain in gojo's eyes. on a meta level, they also hide a lot. the eyes are the window to the soul after all. a lot of cultures believe this— japanese included, though it seems that the idiom goes, "the eyes are the mirror of the heart" instead.

which is ofc why they're completely uncovered when gojo meets geto at the end of jjk0. and also why, framing-wise gege distances the reader from the scene. we only see the back of gojo's head in the manga when he says the words that fluster geto. in the anime adaptation, we only see his lips. his eyes aren't shown to us (only geto sees them then), creating the sense that we're kind of intruding.

this all leads me to believe that gojo's eyes being covered is strongly tied to the masking or suppression of his emotions. his blindfold later in the series serves the same purpose.

so when gege decided to depict gojo with his hand over his eyes instead of a blindfold (precisely after having him mention his "dream")— gege probably wanted gojo to be perceived as someone that is both honest and yet still omitting some information. specifically about where his "dream" stems from (his blue spring/geto). it's worth mentioning that his jacket is uncharacteristically zipped down a little too (chapter 11, p. 2).

as for his youth, gojo sported glasses most of the time. it seems to represent his haughty attitude? him speaking his mind brazenly. since he can easily tilt his head or remove his glasses to show his eyes. as an adult, he uses them when he spoke to the higher-ups as i meantioned before in jjk0, during the baseball game he proposed for the students' sake, and in megumi's flashback (and some other minor instances).

so overwhelmingly, at this point, it seems like gojo doesn't sport eye coverings at all in (1) serious battle, or (2) when he's confronting geto emotionally (when he seeks him out) or being confronted by his feelings surrounding geto (when he hears about what he's done). gojo's clothing is also overwhelmingly loose. he doesn't ever show much skin, and he mostly wears long sleeves. especially as an adult.

i want to say everything shifts after shibuya, where he's confronted with himself (and his past); the feelings that he's repressed. (remember the eyes are the mirror of the heart?)

so when he's eventually freed from the prison realm, his uniform jacket is torn to pieces and he's not wearing his blindfold over his eyes (that we know for a fact he had with him when he was sealed).

something that stands out to me too, is how he doesn't ever cover his eyes again after this. also how the first thing he chooses to see is geto's body. as if he is no longer suppressing the truth. he is bearing his heart to the world; he goes on to be extremely sincere to many people. my favorite example being his conversation with ijichi.

later, in shinjuku, during what is essentially a ceremony of jujutsu to determine who is the challenger (him or sukuna), gojo dons traditional robes. i think this is purely because of the context. worth noting, gakuganji and utahime who represent kyoto, otherwise known as "jujutsu's sacred land" are also present.

gojo quickly disposes of the robes once the pleasantries are out of the way,

and basically goes on to shine as himself to the very end, until we're shown his face more intimately than we have ever seen it before—

(right after we see him encounter his blue spring/geto again, and he tells geto everything about his fight as well as how he always wanted him by his side).

[wombywoo]

I need to know more about Quinncent 🫶🏻so I would like to request some much needed answers for 15/25/39 aaaand 50 please ☺️

Thanks for creating them!

thank you for asking <33

15. What kind of sense of humor do they have? Or do they have one at all?

asdfghjk I think Quinn would have a really dry, crude sense of humor. Like, he's very blunt about it, just blurting out something crass in his yorkshire accent. Vincent is a bit more refined in his comedy, carefully timing a joke, having a quick response to something in the moment. They'll both laugh at the other making a fool of themselves (tripping, getting mildly hurt, saying something dumb) It's Vince's secret goal to get Quinn to laugh more often, so he doesn't mind being the butt of a joke 😭

25. Do they have a daily/nightly routine?

Quinn, not so much. He tends to lay in bed for a while at night, flipping through the tv or on his phone. Teeth get brushed, a shower is had, but he doesn't really coordinate things as a routine. In the morning , he lies there for quite a while, until he desperately has to pee and then he forces himself to go through the motions. This is all when he's on leave--when he's on duty, he's rather disciplined, but his behavior is more...robotic. Just as a side-note--Quinn actually sleeps on a pullout couch in his flat; he has a bedroom, but he's developed a habit of preferring the sofa bed (which means Fig gets the queen size for herself 💅) so part of his morning routine is to fold up the crappy mattress back into the couch

Vincent's nights vary. Sometimes, he feigns normalcy and goes about a typical nighttime routine (wash up, put on pajamas, read) before laying down in bed and ~meditating~ (he still can't sleep normally) Other times, he's busy with research or other work all night and doesn't notice the time passing. In the morning, he usually has his serving of blood 🩸 He likes it warm, so he'll often dilute it with some hot water and sip it from a teacup (class 👌) If he's spent the night with Quinn, he'll begin preparing him breakfast and regular tea~

39. Would they ever crash a wedding?

Quinn--probably no. He wouldn't see the point in intruding on the occasion, and it's not really a scene he'd prefer to be involved in. Vincent might be inclined, only if he's feeling bold and they've got a decent playlist, lol.

50. What is your favorite thing about them?

Hoenstly...I just like that they're my boys, hehe. I mean..I think the most compelling part of them is that I get to make up all this stuff on my own. I like how they're interesting as separates; I wanted to give them each enough characteristics and backstory to make them stand out as individuals, but as a duo, I think they complement each other really well ✨To actually answer the question:

My favorite thing about Quinn is how utterly tragic he is, but deep down--he's soft, he's scared, he wants to be loved 🥺

My favorite thing about Vincent is that despite possessing enhanced abilities and power, he's still vulnerable. He's caring and considerate and he doesn't want to be a monster :'D

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii Fen!!!! Hope you are doing weeeell 😇

The Aurryn thread had me in stitches omg. You created a problem... now take responsibility 👀

Also just completely ignoring the whole reaction you have to the luca questions..... hmmm... 🧐🤔

But back to my ask. It is my most favorite ask i alwaaaayyyyys ask and i neeed to ask. If no one else has. But i fucking love a jealous RO especially when they try to not be jealous or it's completely outrageous for them to be.

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo: MC is at some ball thing and another noble is very much just trying to rizz the hell out of them. Like flirting their pants off (to hopefully flirt the MCs pants off too) and MC isn't uncomfortable but just enduring it because it's probably not something new. What do the ROs do/think about that 👀 📝

Also, I'm so glad the page is so lively, lol 💜

Hi again!! I’m doing well thank you! Hope you are good too. I see no problem with the aurynn situation 😏--in fact I have discovered I have the power to turn straight people gay with nothing more than a drawing so NONE of you are safe. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🔫🐛pew pew

Dunno what you are talking about with the Luca questions....there is nothing suspicious going on. :3

As for the jealousy question:

Kieran: pre-feelings, they won't really be very jealous and would probably only intervene bc they feel that someone flirting with their betrothed is going to be a bad look for them, you, and the noble. Post-feelings, they would start getting jealous but would have a hard time recognizing it as jealousy bc it is not a feeling they are familiar with. They'd probs spend a while just watching you from across the room with a troubled look and then find some excuse--if only to convince themselves they are doing this for a good reason--to cut in and dance with MC instead. They'd be in denial over feeling jealous.

Aurynn: pre-feelings, not going to care much so long as MC doesn't look uncomfortable. If MC does look uncomfortable or like they are so incredibly bored out of their skull, he'd step in but otherwise he is fine with letting MC handle it or if mc is flirting with others if they want to. He's a slut. He gets it. And he knows if MC really wants out of it they can just signal him with a look and he’ll come to the rescue but not without badgering the hell out of the noble first, if only just for the fun of it. Post-feelings, he's going to be struggling with why the hell he cares so much about seeing someone else rizzing mc up and might start getting petty about it. He wouldn't even care about rudely cutting in if it means he gets to monopolize your time and would probs overcompensate by being overly casual and talking too much so you can’t get a word in edgewise or question him bc he doesn’t quite know why he did that either.

Samira: Pre-feelings, so long as MC doesn't look uncomfortable, she would feel it would be rude to intrude even if she thinks it is a bad look for someone to be flirting with an engaged person so openly bc she is not nobility and feels a bit out of place cutting in between nobles but she would offer sympathetic looks if she can tell mc is just enduring it. Post-feelings, she might start to choose to interpret the noble's actions as overly brazen and mc as uncomfortable just to give herself an excuse to cut in. Would be staring daggers at the other noble even after they left despite herself.

Nihm: pre-feelings, would feel it would be bad for someone to be flirting with an engaged mc so openly and might leave it for Kieran to handle out of respect but if Kieran doesn’t notice then they might try to politely cut in so as not to cause a scene. post-feelings, they are going to have some internal suffering and maybe staring at mc longingly from across the ballroom as they try to figure out what they should do. Might cut in to avoid a bad situation and then feel really awkward afterwards bc they've cut in for selfish reasons and now don't know what to do about it. Might just leave out of embarrassment.

Lilith/Lucien: Petty about it either way. They might debate about stepping in at first and then very quickly lose that self-debate—if one even occurred at all—and scare away the noble, which wouldn't be hard considering L's reputation in Celestyl. They’d be pretty smug about having your undivided attention. They tend to pout if you choose someone else over them, depending on the situation.

[beeandheroddobsessions]

If You Wonder

Pairing: Elvis x f!Reader

Summary: Elvis doesn’t know what it is about you, but he knows he’s not letting go.

A/N: The way I lied about when this was going up with my whole chest is so funny to me. Happy reading!- Bianca 💕

Stress couldn't even begin to cover what Elvis was feeling. The poor man is in disarray, and it's all over his appearance.

Hair tousled from his hands running through it; shirt untucked in haste, face flushed red with frustration.

With an upcoming tour and everyone wanting something different, he felt like the world was caving around him. He needed an escape, a moment where he was just a regular old joe. 

There's a flower grove not too far from Graceland. It's secluded and quaint, and no one knows it exists; it's just what he needs.

Without a second thought, Elvis finds his feet carrying him in that direction. The walk brings its own wave of anxiety, having to worry about being spotted.

There's no doubt that Elvis loves his fans dearly, but if he’s got to deal with one more squealing girl, he might lose it. After glancing over his shoulder more times than he can count, he ducks into the trail hidden by the beautiful shrubbery.

His stomach settles, and his shoulders drop as he is hidden away from the world by mother nature. He is sure to thank her as he approaches the clearing he's grown so fond of.

A ghost of a smile rests upon his face as he enters the natural archway built by the leaves of weeping willows. There is where he finds you, clad in a yellow sundress, seated on the ground, book in hand, oblivious to the world. Footsteps are the only indication of another soul nearing you.

You glance up, unsure of who has wandered into your sanctuary. Your eyes widen just a bit when they land on the intruder. Unsure of what exactly to say in the presence of Elvis Presley himself, you offer a kind smile and return to the passage last read.

Elvis is appalled; for the first time in what seems like forever, a woman saw him and didn't pounce on him. The initial disappointment of finding you here is replaced by interest. The urge to talk to you grows stronger by the second, so he does.

"Hi there, I'm Elvis. Elvis Presley." You look over your book and see an extended hand. Reaching out to take it, you give your name in exchange,

"I know, my name's y/n."

Elvis quirks an eyebrow, "What's that your readin'?" He questions.

You point to the title, "It's an encyclopedia on flowers, see my favorite is the peony, but I like all of 'em. They're just so pretty. Ya know?"

Elvis nods his head and immediately understands why you're here. This place is littered with wildflowers, all different and beautiful in their own way.

"Mind if I sit with ya, darlin?" You shake your head and pat the grass next to you. He sits a little close, but it doesn't bother you.

"How'd you find this place?" you ask curiously. He lets out a chuckle and looks around a bit before answering, 

"When I moved into Graceland, I went walkin' and stumbled upon it. How'd you find it?" He asks, just as curious.

"There's a trail of daisies leading into the clearing. Where there's one, there are many. I just followed the flowers." A purple pansy catches your eye, and you point it out to Elvis.

"That's why I kept coming back." He nods with a simple "Mm," and a comfortable silence falls over the two of you.

"Tell me 'bout 'em."

You tilt your head, slightly confused. "Bout what?" The smile he gives you is almost enough to make you sweat.

"The flowers, honey. Tell me about the flowers." Thus began your ramblings about the flora surrounding you both. Elvis had no interest in telling you to stop; he let you talk until the sun started to set. 

"Goodness, I rambled on into the night," you laugh out.

"S'okay, I like hearing you talk, Bambi. Let me take ya home. Can't have a pretty thing like you roamin' alone."

You hesitate for a bit, wondering if it would inconvenience him. Elvis sees the gears turning and doesn't give you a choice. "Where do ya stay?"

You begin to stand, smoothing out your dress. "It's about a five-minute walk from here."

You both set out toward your home. As you resume the flower talk, your book is close to your chest. Not once do you lose his interest. For Elvis, this is refreshing, something he doesn't want to end so soon.

When you reach the front of your tiny home, he turns to face you. "Bambi, if ya don't mind, I'd like to be able to talk more with ya." You understand what he's hinting at and tell him to wait by the door as you scurry inside to find a pen and paper. You hand over the small slip and bid Elvis goodnight. 

There isn't a word from him for another two days. Though it's a bit disheartening, your garden keeps you busy. Around one o'clock on a Wednesday, while you're labeling pots, the phone rings. You dash over to it, lifting the receiver to your ear.

"Bambi? Ya there?" You can't fight the smile finding its way onto your face. "Yes, E. M'here," He breathes, happy that he has the correct number.

"Good! How've you been?" You jot down tulips as you form a response,

"Fair to middlin', just a little busy, is all. And you?" He chuckles on the other side. "Stressed like hell, but glad to be talkin' to ya. What are your plans for today, honey?"

You let out a soft hum, "Nothin' too special. Just labelin' pots. I was gon' head down to the grove lat-"

"No! I mean, I was hopin' you could stay and chat with me. If you don't mind." You shake your head. "Of course, I don't." you talk for hours about your plans for the garden and the ins and outs of his tour.

This quickly becomes routine for you. Elvis calling and keeping you by the phone until odd hours of the night. What you don't expect are the gifts that appear on your doorstep.

The first is a gold necklace graced with his initials. You're sure to bring it up during your next conversation, expressing your gratitude for it but telling him you couldn't possibly keep something so expensive. He is quick to dismiss your concerns and change the subject.

 Second, is a bouquet. A random assortment accompanied by a card that reads,

'I can’t wait to see you. ~EP.'

You place the flowers in a vase on a table near the entryway, making sure they're on display. Again you call, thanking him for such a beautiful assortment.

The last gift you receive is a sage green dress with another card, this one reading 'Meet me in the grove at five, Bambi.- EP' You check the time and see it's a quarter 'till.

Quickly, you throw the dress on, pairing it with the necklace and brown sandals. Too excited to think about makeup, you fly out the door and head for your shared sanctuary. When you reach your destination, what you see leaves you breathless.

A gazebo adorned with fairy lights. Underneath, a table set for two, a vase of fresh-cut peonies resting in the center, and your beau waiting patiently. "Elvis, this is…wow" He flashes a smile and steps toward you, "I spent the last week gettin' this set up."

It was making sense now. Why he did everything he could to keep you on the phone and away from the flowers. The moment you spot the small gift box in his hands, you shake your head.

"Elvis, no more gifts, please-"

He shakes his head right back, "This is the last one, mama. I promise." He extends the small box toward you.

You take it from his hands, carefully unwrapping the ribbon around it and removing the top. Inside, you find a key. You look at the man in front of you with a puzzled expression, "Elvis, I don't understand."

"It's a key to Graceland," He says lowly, with a light pink hue dusting over his cheeks.

"I know we met not too long ago, but I want you around. I feel somethin' for ya, Bambi. Somethin' I ain't never felt before."

"I-" you feel lightheaded. Elvis Presley confessed that he has feelings for you. "Elvis, I don't know what to say, you've given me so much, and I can't help but wonder why. All I've done is talk about flowers-" 

Elvis tries, but can't stifle his laugh. "Honestly, mama, I don't know what to say either. I mean, ya don't hound me bout taking ya on the road and turnin' ya into a poster girl or bout what it's like bein' Elvis Presley,"

He takes your hand and pulls you in close "You don't even ask for anything" Elvis holds your gaze and rests both hands upon your waist

"You keep me company, make me laugh till my stomach hurts. I get to be just Elvis with you. I want you. Will ya let me have ya, honey?" 

Your heart is beating at a mile a minute. "Yes," you say all too quickly, "I mean, i– I'd like that, Elvis."

Elvis chuckles, "There's nothing I'd want more, Bambi." He Kisses your temple and walks you toward the table. 

 "Now, y/n, I want to be completely honest with you." He says, concerning you a bit.

"What is it, E ?" 

"I didn't cook a single thing on this table, so if it's awful, ya can't blame me." You let out a laugh.

"You put in too much work for me to be phased by the food" With a hand on his shoulder, you rise on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

Elvis leans into your soft touch, placing his hand over yours. "Let's eat, babydoll; you can tell me more about that garden."