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hit it off right
Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?
After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.
📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest
a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~
mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly
A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.
“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”
“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.
“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”
There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.
It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?
“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.
“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“
“Sounds like he’s in full support.”
Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.
“He also asked me about you.”
“What about me?”
“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”
“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”
His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.
“Wait. Did he like them?”
“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”
“Oh.”
“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”
“…okay that’s a little better.”
It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.
The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.
Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.
“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”
His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.
“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”
“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”
You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.
“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”
There’s a beat.
“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Damn, you ever told him all that?”
“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“
He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.
“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”
You blink at him, two times. Three times.
“Huh?”
His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.
“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”
“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”
“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”
Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.
“I think he’d be good for you.”
“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.
Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.
But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.
You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.
After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.
It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.
Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.
Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.
It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.
Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.
Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.
“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”
You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.
“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”
On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.
She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.
“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.
“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”
You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”
“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”
You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.
“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”
Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.
woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵
“C-can I be honest with you?”
Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.
“Of course you can.”
She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.
“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”
“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”
Her eyes widen in anticipation.
“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”
“Shut up, no way!”
“Let’s just say I have insider info.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
you: appx 4 min 🤠
woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼
You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.
She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.
Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.
“Come in, come in!”
Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.
You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.
Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.
“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”
“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.
“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”
The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.
“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”
You blush under all the affection from them.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”
“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”
Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.
YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”
“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“
Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.
“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.
The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.
Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.
Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.
“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”
The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.
Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.
He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.
Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.
Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”
Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”
Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.
And what a sight to see.
Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.
Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.
Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.
“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”
It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.
He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.
“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”
With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.
You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.
Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.
Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.
Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.
Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.
“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.
“I can drink to that.”
You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.
It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.
Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
So you try your best to start and make conversation.
“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”
“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”
“Really? What are you going to be doing?”
He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.
“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”
Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.
“You sing, Jaehyun?”
“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”
There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.
“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”
You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.
“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”
“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”
He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.
So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.
“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”
He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.
“I hope you do, too. Soon.”
“Shots?”
Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.
“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”
“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”
“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”
He asks for your preference, and you do the same.
Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.
“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”
Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”
“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.
“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“
Donghyuck pretends to yawn.
“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”
“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”
“Literally.”
Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.
Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”
The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.
You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”
The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.
The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.
At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.
But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.
He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.
After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.
“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.
He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.
“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.
“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.
“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.
“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”
His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“
“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.
Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.
Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”
You wave him off towards the door.
“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”
With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.
Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.
“How many drinks in are you?”
“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”
“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.
There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).
Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.
But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.
The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.
“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.
“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.
He can’t see shit, in all honesty.
“I may or may not be a little crossed.”
“That’s what I smell on you?”
“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.
“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”
“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”
“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”
He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.
“You smoke?”
“Weed? Rarely.”
“Cigs?”
“Not once in my life.”
“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”
“Vape away, I could never judge.”
At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.
His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.
“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”
He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.
“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”
He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”
He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.
“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”
“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”
“Yeah? What does he say?”
That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.
“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”
A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.
“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”
You tilt your head to the side.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”
“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.
But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.
“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”
Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.
You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.
“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”
“You’re right. But he deserves it.”
He nods while he thinks on his next words.
“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”
“That’s all him, he works hard-“
“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”
Your breath catches in your throat.
“He… he said that? Really?”
“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”
Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.
“Are you crying?”
You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.
“I was gonna but I’m okay.”
He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.
The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.
“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”
You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”
“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”
“Move, I’ll look.”
You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.
“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”
“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”
“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.
Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”
Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”
More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.
He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.
It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.
Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.
You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.
“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.
“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?
“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.
“Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”
Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.
Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”
“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”
Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”
While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.
“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”
“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”
His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.
“Are you staying over?”
“No I’m going home tonight.”
He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.
“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay. Good.”
You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.
You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”
“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”
“Yeah. You want any water?”
“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”
“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”
“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.
“He’s decent, just whiny.”
“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”
You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.
“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”
“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”
You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.
“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”
“Hmm…”
unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun
unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!
#jeong jaehyun#jung jaehyun#NCT#nct 127#jeong jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#jaehyun x reader#nct x reader#my writing#nct fic
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A guide on how to draw Trudy "officially".
Over the years, Trudy has received the occasional fanart, and I can never be grateful enough for every last one of them. <3 However, possibly due to not being an artist myself (unless you count purposefully terrible MSPaint doodles), I sometimes get asked what her intended reference is supposed to be. As in, how is she officially meant to translate in the Yuji Uekawa style alongside the other Sonic cast members.
In the past, I've been hesitant to clarify because truth be told, I don't care too deeply about every detail being completely accurate in fanart: I'm always perfectly satisfied and delighted to see how artists handle her regardless, no matter their spin on it. You wanna make her even taller? Go right ahead. :D You wanna make her hair reach further down? Knock yourself out. :D Boots going all the way up to her thighs? Hehe long leg horsie. :D But since it's something I've been asked more than once, I feel it's about time that I finally give a rundown for those who are interested in keeping her proportions, colours, facial expressions, and other such features canon-adjacent, so to speak.
I'll be numbering my points, because bullet points always seem to get smushed together no matter how I space them, which never fails to aggravate me lol. There's a lot to go over, but I hope I've compiled and summarized them as conveniently as possible. ^^ Alright, now let's make like a Mach Speed secton and go:
1. Trudy's official height is 3'06". For comparison, Rouge is 3'05", and Sonic himself is 3'03". (Originally Trudy was shorter than Rouge, but since Trudy remaining tall in spite of her condition is already a thing, it just felt right this way the more I thought about it.)
2. Trudy's shade of green is much more softer and minty than most green characters in the franchise (Vector, Jet, Scourge, Scourge With A Vagina, etc), as a harsher shade would clash with her portrayal.
3. The rule for her clothing:
Darker blue = headscarf + bandana Medium blue = top + boots Lighter blue = gloves + boot cuffs Brown = breeches + glove cuffs
4. Her muzzle and inner ears are peach, but lighter and more pale than other characters who have peach for those features.
5. Speaking of the ears, they're a teensy bit bigger than Sonic's, but not by much. They're also more rhombus-shaped by comparison.
6. She has five bangs in total, though it may often look like four due to her headscarf.
7. Her eye shape is exactly as it's presented in the image below. The general shape is tsurime, similar to Blaze, but rounder and softer to convey Trudy's personality, and how despite the rough experiences she went through while growing up, they haven't changed her kind heart. Her eyelashes and their length are also exactly as they appear here.
...also, while she's commonly depicted with half-lidded eyes, they're NOT like that all the time like in Rouge and Vanilla's case. Her eyes are fully open in her default state like most of the cast, she's just prone to half-lidded eyes due to her tender demeanour.
And of course, her sclera is NOT the usual white. :P It might look white from afar, but upon closer inspection, it's actually a very subtle light blue. This is often an effect of EDS in real life, so I figured it would be a good way of conveying it visually within the specific framework of a Sonic character. Meanwhile, the shade of brown used is much more warm than cool.
8. She actually has a little boop for her nose (complete with the two nostrils in place of the traditional black dot), it's just not obvious when looking at her from the front, like a mind trick of sorts. It's easier to notice from the side or from other particular angles, like so.
9. There's no easy way of putting this, so I'm gonna come right at ya with it: Trudy does indeed have breasts. Not as overt as Rouge (I say that out of endearment, not out of Bumblekast-flavored contempt), but it's there all the same to indicate she's a bit older than Amy and Cream.
10. Likewise, her legs are on the thick side. Again, more subtly so than Rouge, but still notable when compared to the pipe frames of Amy, Cream, Blaze, etc. And yes, just like horses in real life, she also has a prominent... er, behind, but this too is not quite as blatant as Rouge, since her top tends to obscure some of it, at least when standing up.
11. Her tail reaches down to just above her feet, and can be used to convey some of her emotions, such as slowly swaying when happy, or raising ever so slightly to show her contempt towards a villain. The joke is that she's "politely" telling them they can kiss her ass.
12. Her ponytail reaches down to her back, and in its default state, it forms an S-shape. It's also so close to her back that it may look as though the top and bottom alike are fully glued to her lol. It's not, obviously, but it's another mind trick per say. The height and width of the big upper half are near-equal, for maximum roundness. :3
...however, when she's in motion, be it mild or major, the ponytail can react accordingly in order to convey said motion. This never needs to be portrayed super realistically, what matters is that it looks cute and/or amusing. :3 :3 :3
Basically, if you're familiar with the Shantae franchise, and you know how animated the titular protagonist's ponytail can get, you can play around just as much with Trudy's ponytail.
13. Her gloves are just like Rouge's gloves: they go above her elbows, and fit her arms smoothly even with the small triangular gap on the brown cuffs. They're very much intended to invoke the feeling of classic princess gloves, to contrast the tomboy aspects of her attire.
14. Trudy's boots are yet another mind trick: while they technically go up to her knees like Amy's boots, they end up looking as long as Rouge's boots due to Trudy having longer legs than Amy. :P As for the feet, while they may seem similarly shaped to Amy's boots from a brief glance, the toes have recently been mildly altered to be a little more visually distinct and to reflect Trudy being older than Amy, so the toes are slightly longer and pointed now, as seen below. Despite this, they still lack heels, because heels are a no-no for Trudy's sensitive hooves.
15. Despite her bandana seemingly appearing smaller than her face when she's not using it, it somehow covers the entire lower half of her face perfectly fine like a ninja mask when she is using it. What sorcery is this??? Same reason Amy can pull her hammer out of thin air. Cartoon logic, deal with it.
16. As you can see in the second image above, Trudy's top has a window, which can be easy to overlook since you normally only see it when she has her bandana up. And on the subject of her top, as you may have noticed in a few images earlier, the top also has two small triangular cuts at the bottom of both her sides.
17. As for other details that are normally concealed by her clothing, her body has some pale peach that matches her muzzle and inner ears: it starts exactly at her *ahem* chest, and goes down across the middle portion of her front, ending where the stomach ends. Her feet - or rather, her hooves - resemble the typical round and toeless texture of most Sonic characters, except they're grey, with a little bit of fluff over them like so.
18. Trudy can certainly show a wide range of facial expressions, even playful and silly ones that you might not expect from her, but even so, they are always presented in a dignified and restrained manner. She's also not the type to lose her temper outright, preferring Tranquil Fury, so you won't be seeing her gnashing her teeth madly.
In other words, if Trudy shows visible disgust towards Eggman and his nefarious ways, she would not pull a Jack Nicholson Joker grimace ala Tracy Yardley's Sonic while doing so. She would much rather turn her head a little to the side and turn her nose up at him all proper-like.
19. And finally, simply put, the design of her trusty bow is as it appears here:
...and her whip, in its finalized form, can easily be described as being able to extend like a regular whip, while the handle resembles a rapier handle.
Bonus Fun Fact: During the very early stages of Trudy's design, I considered giving her a cape that reached down to just below the knees, so as to fit her unique mix of refined-yet-quirky. It wasn't super-detailed or anything, it was simple enough, but elegant nonetheless. However, I decided against it due to fears of it potentially making the design too cluttered, and also thinking about Trudy's design not causing inconvenience if she were actually playable in a game.
That said, I still think about it from time to time, as while it may not be part of her finalized attire, I still think a cape could look endearing on her, partly due to an old comic by Skaru, so if anyone wants to try their hand at drawing her with one, that's perfectly fine with me. :> Plus, with those who already accuse Trudy of being a Whisper ripoff, despite Trudy existing long before IDW Sonic in general was even a thing, it'd be a funny way of baiting them lmao.
And that's about it, assuming I don't remember something else five seconds after uploading this post! So for any artists who prefer to draw her with her "canon" proportions and whatnot, I hope this guide is able to help. ^^ Credit for all the art used in this post goes to: @skaruresonic @star-stages @nuncadisponible @sonikkuruzu @eva-of-the-sea @thespeedhighway @aquillis-main @la-nom-nom @latias-eevee-hatori
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@bianca-hooks123
YOU ARE VERY SWEET TY FOR THE COMPLIMENTS (I always love seeing you in my activity feeds btw)
ignore how long it took me to reply i had a hectic week and weekend and replying to posts takes a lot of mental effort compared to reblogging them jhladsf
ALSO YES I WILL NEVER PASS UP AN OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE DANNY A LONG-HAIRED PUNK AND GIVE HIM PIERCINGS. It is law. I must do it. In some way or another he wILL have long hair or an alternative style.
He swept Kon off his feet with a cock-eyed smile, a pair of blue eyes that could swallow you whole, and some very, very well-timed humor. For the following week that Danny is in Metropolis, he's consistently texting Kon, and vice-versa, or walking around the city with him.
Lil Damian is maybe just a taaad angry about his brother's attention being elsewhere, but he's (steadily developing into) a clingy six-year old and Danny makes it up to him for it by showing him the new places that Kon brought him to, going to places Damian wants, and spending extra long time with him during their Arabic-English learning sessions.
On another note, I have less written thoughts and moreso doodles I did yesterday inspired by this au. THat's. Literally just how I imagine Phantom's ghost form (in this specific thread) looks (post-clone revelation) and Danny.
Never not gonna pass up the opportunity to give Danny a scarf if I can. They're cool :] and it adds a little flare. It leaves a little particle trail of stars behind him when the scarf moves, and when he's stagnant they kinda just float around him. It's also got a hood, but I hate drawing hoods so by the powers vested in me, I've decided that he can just summon the hood out of existence whenever he wants with a single flick of his hand when he motions pulling it up.
It does the batkid shadow blob thing where it casts his entire face in shadows, other than his eyes and, sometimes, his mouth whenever he smiles. Creepy mfer. As he deserves :]
He does indeed, have a forked tongue. It's green. I was this 👌 close to giving him a tongue piercing for the extra flare. Kill Kon a little bit more while I was at it. His ears are a little longer/sharper as Phantom and tend to move/pin back/prick up/swivel around when he's listening to things. As Danny, his ears are shorter and have the same range of movement as a human.
I like to think he eventually has this little travel-sized satchel thing strapped to his other thigh or his waist, close to his thermos, and it's basically just a small portal into his lair. He can reach into it and pull anything out so long as its in his lair. Bottomless pit bag-lite.
I also like to imagine he develops a habit of frosting over/hiding mirrors after finding out he's a clone when his identity issues get especially bad. But that's neither here nor there.
Danny, meeting Batman as Phantom: *spiderman point* THANKS FOR THE ANXIETY DISORDER, YOU FUCK. Batman: ????? what Danny, refusing to elaborate: *disappears*
Danny's a total teaser though. Btw. Like he can't handle being flirted with but goddamn is he one mean flirter. Even if it's sometimes unintentional. He takes his natural witty banter, amps it up by eleven, and watches Kon's face turn pink like a lion watching a gazelle limp across the savanna.
One of the times Kon makes a comment on his eyes, it's to say, through a stammering voice: "Jesus-- you have eyes that could swallow a man whole." after Danny said something vaguely flirty and then watched him intently.
Which, it's not the first time someone's commented on his eyes -- even before his accident, strangers and teachers used to say that he had the brightest blue eyes they'd ever seen. They were creepy; pretty; unsettling; boring into you. A random fortune teller at the mall who was somehow even crazier than his parents, who reeked of burned wood and cheap incense, pointed at his face and ominously slurred that he had the eyes of a ghost.
(He was six at the time, and never forgot about it.)
-- it's one of the few times it's said with an uncontrollable, flustered smile and a dark blush on the commenter's face. It's one of the few times it's said as a compliment, and it's so different and so bizarre compared to the usual things he hears, that Danny tumbles straight into loud, belly-laughter. He catches his breath long enough to stumble out a confused; "Th- thank you?" that flushes Kon's face an even darker shade of red, and tilts him into more laughter.
Which, Kon is one to talk, Danny could say the same about him.
Kon knowing about the ghost stuff in Amity Park. If only for the interaction of him visiting Danny for the first time, watching a fight break out from across the street in the local tech store (Technus got out) and after the fight ends, Kon goes, mostly to himself; "I didn't know Amity had a villain problem."
Danny appears beside him suddenly, his hair even messier than usual, holding a venti-sized cup of expresso (he terrifies the newbie baristas at the nearby starbucks, they all know him by name), and sporting a brand new shiner around his eye that, when questioned, says he "forgot to duck" and then doesn't elaborate on, and blandly states: "Most don't."
Whenever he's on call with Kon, Danny complains about the ghosts like one complains about the weather. Which isn't out of the norm for cities with villains and heroes, Kon's heard all about it from Tim (and he's done it himself), but it's a little different hearing it from a 'civilian' perspective.
Kon: how long has this been going on?? Danny, sprawled over his beanbag chair and painting his nails, Damian is Elsewhere: going on about threeee--? Yeah -- wait-- yeah, no, three years now. Almost four. Danny: Ghosts began popping up at the start of my freshman year, and they've become a constant ever since. Danny: It's a pretty big shock for newcomers since Amity does a fantastic job of keeping it on the downlow so we don't tank tourist sales, and most people usually keep touch on places like Metropolis, Central City, Star City, etcetera... since that's where the more legacy heroes are. Kon: huh Danny: yeah, I would've warned you beforehand had I known you were going to visit, *half-hearted glare* but late is better than never I suppose. Danny: take your time processing. Dames needed a minute too when he moved in with us, but he's been acclimating really well to... well, everything. So if a six year old can process the reality of ghosts, I'm sure you can too. Kon, sarcastically: wow, thanks.
Also Kon asks about Phantom, and Danny is thrown for a loop for a minute. Not because Kon's asking about Phantom -- it quickly rings for him that ofc Kon would ask him about the guy fighting off all the ghosts -- but because he is abruptly made aware of the fact, that talking about himself is fucking weird.
People don't ask Danny Fenton about the Phantom. Nobody is going to ask the ghost hunter's kid who runs away at the first sight of a ghost about the ghost kid. Especially when his parents explicitly state every chance they get how much they despise the ghost kid.
So the first time Kon asks about Phantom, Danny opens his mouth to respond, and then goes "oh what the fuck". Because trying to describe himself without being too descriptive or all-knowing about it is hard, and also just weird in general.
He rubs his neck and makes an uncertain noise, and goes; "Hhn, I'm not really the person to ask about that, Connor. I don't stick around ghost fights long enough to see him that much, and my parents would ground me until I died if they found out I was hanging around him at all."
(which is actually sorta based in canon! when the GIW were investigating the area during the Gregor episode, they went to the Fentons and told the parents they had reason to believe that their son was friends with the ghost kid. Maddie and Jack looked visibly upset by this, and when Jack called for Danny, he used the all-too-well-known parental tone of "you are in SO much trouble, young man")
Then he shrugs, and settles back into his chair, "Phantom doesn't really stick around after ghost fights anyways, from what I've heard. He's pretty shy; doesn't really talk to the living."
I am thinking about these two SO much
Over 900 prompt
Okay I love the Danny is a clone of Batman aus but I've never seen this done.
Danny and Kon dating and Then Danny learning his parents cloned Batman thinking he is a ghost only to find out he isn't and kept Danny as their kid.
Just think of the hilarious reactions
Caue this immediately popped into my head.
Kon: *muffled screaming into Tim's couch*
Tim: ....you good?
Kon: danny is the clone of Batman
Tim: ...
Kon: I'm the clone of Superman
Tim:...
Kon: AND WE ARE DATING!
#more rambling from starry#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#clone danny#i hc that (at least this version) danny's drastic wardrobe change is practically a direct result of finding out he's a clone.#identity crises and all. he was slowly growing a blasé attitude to gender and stuff post death but finding out he was a clone just.#expedited the process. lol. lmao even. which yeah i mentioned in my initial reblog but. i felt like extrapolating more on it ajlshef#he was sticking his feet in the water and was somewhat starting to explore stuff out of his usual comfort zone. and then clone reveal was#him basically doing a cannonball straight into it right after. went thru a whole explorative stage before settling into his current style#best part about clone aus is the inevitable breakdown danny has over finding out a huge chunk of his life is a lie. like WOW. THATS NO GOOD#anyways i would like to apologize for the amount of doodles that has phantom sticking his tongue out i was experimenting with expressions#and also just really wanted to give him a forked tongue. i wasnt initially going to share that last one but i suck at front profiles#and it turned out fucking AWESOME and so i had to share it. even if i feel vaguely mortified about it#also the fourth one is a reference to that great british bakeoff dude. 'started making it. had a breakdown. bon appetite' except in my#heart of hearts i just knew i had to make danny say 'bone apple teeth' instead. like that's totally something this dork would say#these two are MAD flirting w/ e/o even after they start dating. the flirting doesn't stop. it actually just gets worse. danny makes it a#game to see how red he can make kon blush. he is also very physically affectionate and touchy. can and will drape himself over kon if#given the opportunity. kon calls him a cat and then just carries him around. which is great because 5/10 danny mAY just pass out#Kon: how much coffee have you had today | danny: you dont want the answer to that hotstuff. | kon: naptime then *lays on him*#kon has to figure out a way to ask danny why tf his pulse is so slow compared to the normal person#danny is 90% positive kon is a meta. kon is also 90% positive that danny is a meta. they are both not that far off and also Wrong
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for whom good omens is being written
Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:
The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.
And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:
'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."
'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'
He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'
(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'
And, finally, this paragraph:
"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"
I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.
Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")
Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)
#good omens#neil gaiman#sir terry pratchett#good omens show#good omens fandom#good omens mascot#weirdly specific but ok#asmi
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"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.
but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)
mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…
the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.
every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.
first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic
which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.
which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.
the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.
walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?
well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.
you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?
it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.
when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.
and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.
kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.
yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.
#dungeon meshi spoilers#mithrun#dungeon meshi#this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme#half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is#someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality#his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though#he says he tried to see the worst in them.#hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on#wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore.#but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once#snakes#long post#severe problems#meshy
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n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)
(one chance please, just one chance with him)
“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”
Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress.
You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other.
At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since.
Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn.
You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer.
You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face.
It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy.
But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…
You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face.
Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan.
“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound.
Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”
“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.”
You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel.
There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now.
The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan.
You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar.
Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense.
Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her.
Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be.
You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out.
It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer.
“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here.
Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”
“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”
“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt.
You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”
You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?
So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit.
You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers.
Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom.
Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar.
“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”
Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.”
It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that.
Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him.
Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.
Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder.
“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”
Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”
You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all.
Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations.
It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice.
You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title.
Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.
Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break.
That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.
You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar.
He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you.
He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?
You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind.
You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish.
You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across.
You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now.
You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him.
“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”
He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question.
It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”
“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone.
There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”
The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word.
You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him.
“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.
He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”
You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you.
You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel.
You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you.
You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name.
You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside.
You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles.
It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream.
Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion.
“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away.
You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force.
“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window.
“That tree was a hundred years old.”
You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise.
“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation.
There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown.
“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”
“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it.
You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”
The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout.
“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid.
“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”
“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?”
You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”
He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”
You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him.
There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”
You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed.
Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you.
Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry.
Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands.
Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy.
But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore.
There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry.
“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess.
“You look like shit.”
Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands.
“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”
“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath.
“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears.
“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”
You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all.
“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”
Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head.
You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah.
This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"
Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now.
“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything.
You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night.
“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her.
It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you.
That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you.
It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit.
But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions.
He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree.
Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place.
He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside.
He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”
“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.
Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”
That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that.
You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again.
But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day.
He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?
He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together.
He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head.
He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off.
But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now.
There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.
“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.”
Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it.
She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”
Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem.
A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs.
Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you.
Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes.
Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.
Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.
You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out.
Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is.
“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench.
You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”
He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan.
Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in.
He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other.
You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan.
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit.
You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead.
You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”
He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”
You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him.
“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head.
He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this.
But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him.
He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out.
“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care.
You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic.
Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him.
Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face.
You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic.
You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care.
One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back.
He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care.
You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.
He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building.
You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat.
You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out.
It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over.
He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him.
His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go.
Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you.
You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit.
You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”
Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open.
He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”
You glare over your shoulder at him “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you.
Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge.
The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing.
You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place.
You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy.
But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for.
“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered.
“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”
You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”
You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”
“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.”
He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other.
You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back.
But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.
You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.
It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers.
You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.
He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings.
And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”
He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”
You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it.
A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#Wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#x men#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#smut#ohmygod#i can’t believe i wrote this#Someone sedate me#im just a girl#i cant be blamed LOOK AT HIM#he's actually older than every adult man in my life#can you tell i need therapy
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Writing Notes: Children's Dialogue
Language is extremely complex, yet children already know most of the grammar of their native language(s) before they are 5 years old.
BABBLING
Babbling begins at about 6 months and is considered the earliest stage of language acquisition
By 1 year babbles are composed only of the phonemes used in the language(s) they hear
Deaf babies babble with their hands like hearing babies babble using sounds
FIRST WORDS
After the age of one, children figure out that sounds are related to meanings and start to produce their first words
Usually children go through a holophrastic stage, where their one-word utterances may convey more meaning
Example: "Up" is used to indicate something in the sky or to mean “pick me up”
Most common first words (among the first 10 words uttered in many languages): “mommy,” “daddy,” “woof woof,” “no,” “bye,” “hi,” “yes,” “vroom,” “ball” and “banana”
WORD MEANINGS
When learning words, children often overextend a word’s meaning
Example: Using the word dog to refer to any furry, four-legged animal (overextensions tend to be based on shape, size, or texture, but never color)
They may also underextend a word’s meaning
Example: Using the word dog to refer only to the family pet, as if dog were a proper noun
The Whole Object Principle: When a child learns a new word, (s)he is likely to interpret the word to refer to a whole object rather than one of its parts
SYNTAX
At about two years of age, children start to put words together to form two-word utterances
The intonation contour extends over the two words as a unit, and the two-word utterances can convey a range of meanings:
Example: "mommy sock" = subject + object or possessive
NOTE: Chronological age is NOT a good measure of linguistic development due to individual differences, so instead linguists use the child’s mean length of utterance (MLU) to measure development
The telegraphic stage describes a phase when children tend to omit function morphemes such as articles, subject pronouns, auxiliaries, and verbal inflection
Examples: "He play little tune" or "Andrew want that"
Between 2;6 and 3;6 a language explosion occurs and children undergo rapid development
By the age of 3, most children consistently use function morphemes and can produce complex syntactic structures:
Examples: "He was stuck and I got him out" / "It’s too early for us to eat"
After 3;6 children can produce wh-questions, and relative pronouns
Sometime after 4;0 children have acquired most of the adult syntactic competence
PRAGMATICS
Deixis: Children often have problems with the shifting reference of pronouns
Children may refer to themselves as "you"
Problems with the context-dependent nature of deictic words: Children often assume the hearer knows who s/he is talking about
AUXILIARIES
In the telegraphic stage, children often omit auxiliaries from their speech but can form questions (with rising intonation) and negative sentences
Examples: "I ride train?" / "I not like this book"
As children acquire auxiliaries in questions and negative sentences, they generally use them correctly
SIGNED LANGUAGES
Deaf babies acquire sign language in the same way that hearing babies acquire spoken language: babbling, holophrastic stage, telegraphic stage
When deaf babies are not exposed to sign language, they will create their own signs, complete with systematic rules
IMITATION, REINFORCEMENT, ANALOGY
Children do imitate the speech heard around them to a certain extent, but language acquisition goes beyond imitation
Children produce utterances that they never hear from adults around them, such as "holded" or "tooths"
Children cannot imitate adults fully while acquiring grammar
Example:
Adult: "Where can I put them?" Child: "Where I can put them?"
Children who develop the ability to speak later in their childhood can understand the language spoken around them even if they cannot imitate it
NOTE: Children May Resist Correction
Example: Cazden (1972) (observation attributed to Jean Berko Gleason) – My teacher holded the baby rabbits and we patted them. – Did you say your teacher held the baby rabbits? – Yes. – What did you say she did? – She holded the baby rabbits and we patted them. – Did you say she held them tightly? – No, she holded them loosely.
Another theory asserts that children hear a sentence and then use it as a model to form other sentences by analogy
But while analogy may work in some situations, certainly not in all situations:
– I painted a red barn. – I painted a barn red. – I saw a red barn. – I saw a barn red.
Children never make mistakes of this kind based on analogy which shows that they understand structure dependency at a very young age
BIRTH ORDER
Children’s birth order may affect their speech.
Firstborns often speak earlier than later-born children, most likely because they get more one-on-one attention from parents.
They favor different words than their siblings.
Whereas firstborns gabble on about animals and favorite colors, the rest of the pack cut to the chase with “brother,” “sister,” “hate” and such treats as “candy,” “popsicles” and “donuts.”
The social dynamics of siblings, it would appear, prime their vocabularies for a reality different than the firstborns’ idyllic world of sheep, owls, the green of the earth and the blue of the sky.
MOTHER'S LEVEL OF EDUCATION
Children may adopt vocabulary quite differently depending on their mother’s level of education.
In American English, among the words disproportionately favored by the children of mothers who have not completed secondary education are: “so,” “walker,” “gum,” “candy,” “each,” “could,” “wish,” “but,” “penny” and “be” (ordered starting with the highest frequency).
The words favored by the children of mothers in the “college and above” category are: “sheep,” “giraffe,” “cockadoodledoo,” “quack quack,” the babysitter’s name, “gentle,” “owl,” “zebra,” “play dough” and “mittens.”
BOYS / GIRLS
One area of remarkable consistency across language groups is the degree to which the language of children is gendered.
The words more likely to be used by American girls than by boys are: “dress,” “vagina,” “tights,” “doll,” “necklace,” “pretty,” “underpants,” “purse,” “girl” and “sweater.”
Whereas those favored by boys are “penis,” “vroom,” “tractor,” “truck,” “hammer,” “bat,” “dump,” “firetruck,” “police” and “motorcycle.”
Tips for Writing Children's Dialogue (compiled from various sources cited below):
Milestones - The dialogue you write should be consistent with the child's developmental milestones for their age. Of course, other factors should be considered such as if the child has any speech or intellectual difficulties. Also note that developmental milestones are not set in stone and each child is unique in their own way.
Too "Cutesy" - If your child characters are going to be cute, they must be cute naturally through the force of their personality, not because the entire purpose of their existence is to be adorable.
Too Wise - It’s true kids have the benefit of seeing some situations a little more objectively than adults. But when they start calmly and unwittingly spouting all the answers, the results often seem more clichéd and convenient than impressive or ironic.
Unintelligent - Don’t confuse a child’s lack of experience with lack of intelligence.
Baby Talk - Don’t make a habit of letting them misuse words. Children are more intelligent than most people think.
Unique Individuals - Adults often tend to lump all children into a single category: cute, small, loud, and occasionally annoying. Look beyond the stereotype.
Personal Goals - The single ingredient that transforms someone from a static character to a dynamic character is a goal. It can be easy to forget kids also have goals. Kids are arguably even more defined by their goals than are adults. Kids want something every waking minute. Their entire existence is wrapped up in wanting something and figuring out how to get it.
Don't Forget your Character IS a Child - Most of the pitfalls in how to write child characters have to do with making them too simplistic and childish. But don’t fall into the opposite trap either: don’t create child characters who are essentially adults in little bodies.
Your Personal Observation - To write dialogue that truly sounds like it could come from a child, start by being an attentive listener. Spend time around children and observe how they interact with their peers and adults. You can also study other pieces of media that show/write about children's behaviour (e.g., documentaries, films, TV shows, even other written works like novels and scripts).
Context - The context in which children speak is crucial to creating realistic dialogue. Consider their environment, who they're speaking to, and what's happening around them. Dialogue can change drastically depending on whether a child is talking to a friend, a parent, or a teacher. Additionally, children's language can be influenced by their cultural background, family dynamics, and personal experiences. Make sure the context informs the dialogue, lending credibility to your characters' voices.
Sources and other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Writing Notes: On Children ⚜ Childhood Bilingualism More: Writing Notes & References
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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)
1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out
Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on
2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page
RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable
3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it
Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them
4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt
Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else
5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference
Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on
#writing#writers#writeblr#bookblr#book#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#writer#how to write#on writing#creative writing#writers block#write#writing tips#writers and poets#writblr#female writers#queer writers#writer things#writer stuff#writing is hard#writing advice#writing life#writer problems#writerscreed#writersnetwork#writerblr#writersociety#writerslife
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Had this idea about Rafe’s best friend! Reader who hasn’t been with anyone in like a year and is getting really worked up. Maybe she had a terrible week and there was a last straw and she’s yelling and yanking on her hair and throwing things and Rafe is kind of realizing she just needs to be totally dominated and taken care of so he does
rafe x bsf!reader
a/n: i totally love that idea anon !! first time writing ever i just didnt want to let sweet nonnie down, so apologies if its not that good !
cw: smut, swearing, drool.
rafe knew you haven’t had a hookup in ages. you would vaguely mention it, when it would be just the two of you in either one’s rooms. if he was being honest, he pitied you. he even wanted to be the one to help you…
you were pissed off the whole week. maybe it was your hormones, with the way you would get annoyed at everything.
whether it be traffic making you late to events, or people at the country club being rude, steam was coming out of your ears.
you were like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode anytime now. good thing your bestfriend kept you grounded whenever you were feeling overstimulated.
so there you were, in your room getting ready for dinner with your family and the camerons. rafe on your bed scrolling on his phone, patiently waiting for you.
you were quiet while doing your makeup on your vanity table, not your usual chatty self. normally you would go on and on about anything and everything under the sun, yapping for hours on end.
rafe knew something was up.
“something wrong bunny?” he asked, using the nickname he gave you referring to the time you dressed up as a bunny for halloween when you two were little.
“no,” you replied with a pout, voice barely above a whisper.
rafe knew better than to push you, so he just sighed and kept quiet.
a few moments have passed, and rafe hears a soft ‘oh fuck’, a thud, and heavy breathing from your vanity. he looks up from his phone and sees your head down, soft sobs coming from the table.
when he got up to come closer, you shot up. screaming, crying, wailing even. rafe could see your problem now: you smudged your mascara. you started yanking out your hair curlers, figuring they were useless if your makeup was ruined anyway.
“woah woah- hey bun!” he yelled, pulling you by your waist. he placed you on your bed, rubbing up and down your arms to soothe you.
rafe guided you gently so you were laying your head on your pillows. he was in between your legs, arms caging your frame.
“shh calm down baby,” he whispered, wiping your mascara stained eyes with his thumbs.
he petted your hair, large hands slowly making their way to your cheeks.
“i’m here, i’m here.” he cooed as your cries hushed, turning into soft hiccups.
in this position he could feel you wet through your bloomers. he looked at your eyes as if to ask for permission silently, before he cupped your mound through the frilly fabric.
“what d’you need bunny?”
“need you rafey,” you whined. he carefully pulled down your bloomers, a string of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric.
rafe grew hard at the sight, taking his thumb to run across your slit. his other thumb trailing to play with your nipples through your top.
you mewl at the simultaneous sensations, given you haven’t experienced them in a long while. he took that as a sign to circle your clit, causing your eyes to shut and your legs to close, only to be blocked by rafe’s broad figure.
he then plunged two fingers in and out of you, thick digits stretching your tight hole. rafe’s hand that was previously playing with your tits find their way to your mouth, muffling your lewd moans.
“let’s be quiet bunny. your parents might be downstairs” he shushed, deep voice making your pussy clamp down on his fingers.
fingers curling up to hit your sweet spot, rafe could feel you getting close.
“you can cum baby, go ‘head,” he signals, feeling you gush all over his hand. eyes rolling to the back of your head, you felt euphoria rush through you.
as you rode out your high, rafe removes his hand from your mouth, drool dripping from your mouth and his hand.
“sorry,” you squeaked. he didn’t mind anyway, just happy you probably had your first orgasm not from your own fingers in months.
it never occured to you that this was an option, to be touched by your own bestfriend. this wouldn’t be the last time it happens, you could tell.
“thank you rafey.” you smiled weakly at him, looking through your lashes. he didn’t say anything, just kissed your forehead.
“are we late to dinner?” you asked, suddenly remembering why you were getting ready.
“i drive fast, we’ll make it,” he smirks, grabbing your small hand to cup the bulge through his pants.
dinner could wait.
likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !! love, scarlet.
#scarlet writes ౨ৎ#new tag !#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#drew starkey#best friend!rafe#best friend!reader#kook reader#rafe cameron prompt#drew x reader#rafe cameron p links#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron thoughts#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#obx#rafe obx#rafe one shot
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Infernal Shadows 02
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: HAUSER - Adagio (Albinoni)
A/N: I’m so glad part one did well! I really liked this idea and hoped other people would too. As always comment if you want to be tagged and I will tag you in the next post! I wanted this to be three parts, but depending on how much I can fit in this chapter and the next one, I’ll see if I need to make four parts. The song at the beginning of this chapter is meant to be played when the line “ The music picked up” Is read. Skip to 5:35 for it to play smoothly, or as smoothly as possible.
Word count: 3.k or something over that idk I got too lazy to count :(
Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part three.
Within, the grand foyer unveiled itself, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail in stark contrast against a black and white color scheme. Crystal chandeliers, dangling from lofty black ceilings, cast their brilliance upon white walls adorned with ornate mirrors. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich black and white fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, establishing cozy settings for guests to assemble and engage in enriching conversations. Each room murmured tales of a past era – intricately patterned black and white wallpaper, frames gilded in black to showcase classical art, and a subtle aroma of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air, harmonizing with the monochromatic elegance. The guests walking in all marveled at the details of the mansion.
Charlotte and Vagatha both stepped in, Charlotte in awe of the detailing. A shadow figure bent down slightly to offer her a drink, to which she happily took.
“Vaggie this is all so beautiful. I hope I can make a good impression.” Charlotte said, turning to her partner to ease her nerves. Vagatha just smiled, a hand on her shoulder lovingly.
“You’re gonna do great babe, besides, there’s so many people here, if one likes it I’m sure other people will get on board too.” Vagatha said.
“Or they can laugh at you if one person points out how ridiculous it is.” Husk said, chugging his drink before placing it back on the servers tray.
“Thanks for the kind words Husk.” Vagatha said sarcastically. He just shrugged, looking towards the bar area which was practically calling him over.
Upstairs in your room, you stared at yourself in the mirror as your shadows made the finishing touches on your outfit. Draped in a long, elegant black gown that gracefully embraced your commanding figure, the fabric cascaded like shadows. Delicate chain motifs intertwine with the dress, creating an alluring dance of darkness. A chain belt cinches your waist, a subtle nod to your captivating ability to ensnare and command over your shadows. Completing the regalia, silver chain cuffs adorn your wrists, reflecting both power and refinement.
“Madame, the guests are all in the lobby awaiting your arrival.” One of the shadows said. You nodded, stepping down from your showcase, winking to yourself in the mirror before chuckling to yourself. A shadow approaches you, bowing in respect before holding out a tray with your drink, a contrast to your dark colors. You take the glass in your hand, another shadow lightly putting a thermometer in your drink so it’s the perfect temperature for you, fifteen point five degrees Celsius. The liquid is a light yellow-ish green, Lafite-Rothschild, an expensive French wine you tried in 1906 when you were alive. Lifting it to your lips, you take a long sip and sigh, the spicy and earth notes, mixed with a hint of tobacco and red Barrie’s dance on your tongue like a performance of Gavotte. You pull back with a sigh, setting the glass down, a perfect Ridel Vinum Bordeaux, personally crafted for you as the bottom of the glass is a Smokey black, fading into clear glass towards the top.
“Let’s get this Gala started shall we~?”
In the lobby, guests were socializing amongst themselves. Velvet, Vox and Valentino had split for a short while. After the incident outside, the two overlords wouldn’t stop tantalizing the picture box about his fit of frustration dealing with the Radio Demon. From the lobby, there were large crystal doors revealing the back exterior of the house. The greenery was just perfect, with cobblestone flooring revealing another bloody fountain. Vox stood with his drink, speaking to some sinner he couldn’t remember the name of, about how well his business was going.
“You ever get,” Vox asked, eyeing one of the shadows who stood in a corner, white eyes soulless as they held out drinks to guests. “Creeped out by those, things?” Vox asked, turning back to the sinner. He just scoffed.
“Please, they’re always around and as far as I know, harmless.” The sinner said. At that, a shadow appeared between the two, taking their empty glasses and replacing it with new, full ones. Vox tried his hardest not to seem alarmed at this, and took the glass silently, sipping his drink slowly as it floated away. It was then he took in the shadows appearance. They all looked the same. Tall figures, Smokey outlines, but no feel or hands, just a faded end to their limbs. Their eyes were white and soulless, almost as it they were vacant, a shell of what they used to be. There were no facial features, just two white circles and a thin white line for their mouth. Each one however, had a light Smokey chain around their chest, wrapped in the shape of an X.
“What are the chains for then? They’re pretty much smoke, what do they need chains forever?” Vox asked. The associate laughed, but before he could answer, another overlord stepped in.
“They have chains because they’re claimed souls.” Fredrick Von Eldritch says, his sister Bethesda in toe. The two grin, a shadow following behind them with a tray of their drinks. “If you get invited to the gala long enough, you get a personal one.” He said with a wink, gesturing to the shadow behind the two.
“They’re quite cute once you get used to them.” Bethesda said with a smile, cooing at the shadow lightly. Yet, it still remained expressionless.
“Actually, now that you say that.” The sinner says, looking around for a moment. “It’s been awfully quiet with a laugh track being played.” He says, referring to Alastor. Vox just rolls his eyes.
“Who gives a shit about where that old timey freak is?” Vox asks. Fredrick and Bethesda snicker to each other, catching Vox’s attention.
“Probably hunting for his dear Madame.” Bethesda said dramatically, laying her head on her brothers shoulder and batting her lashes playfully. Fredrick and the sinner laughed at his sisters antics, but Vox grew serious.
“What does that mean? He knows her?” Vox asked, to which Fredrick scoffed, finishing his drink before reaching for another off the shadows server tray.
“Of course he does. She died before him, and they’re the closest overlords in time period. Well, aside from Zestial and her.” Fredrick explained. Vox didn’t say anything else, instead looking to the red ‘moon’ of hell, before glancing at the blood fountain. He had heard rumors about being at the Madame’s table, and how she gave the inside to all her projects and plans before the next extermination. Apparently, this year was supposed to be ‘different’ as people had been talking.
“When does this dinner start anyway? We’ve been standing out here for two hours.” Vox said annoyed.
“In a few minutes, Madame will make her grand entrance. She will socialize with the guests as it is polite to have one on one time with them. Then she will spend the rest of the time while the orchestra gets together deciding on contenders to sit at her table.” A shadow walking by said, stopping to stare at Vox. “Madame is always watching.” It then said, turning to serve other guests. Vox said nothing, instead turning on his heel and making his way inside the mansion. How could someone feel suffocated outside? Fredrick and Bethesda said nothing, watching him go, but sharing a glance between each other before making their leave too, leaving the sinner all by his lonesome.
Inside, Charlotte and Vagatha conversed about how she could get people behind her project.
“Maybe if I sing-“
“Please no. These people are too…” Vagatha said, glancing around the room. Everyone seemed too, fake. Vagatha knew Charlotte being herself around these people would do absolutely no good to the hotel, and though she hated telling Charlotte these things, she knew her kindness would be frowned upon, and made fun of. “Serious for that kind of thing.” Vagatha finished, taking a sip of her champagne. She settled for champagne in a flute while Charlotte drank water, wanting to hydrate herself in hopes to calm her nerves.
“I heard that Madame might be making her entrance soon.” Charlotte said nervously, looking around. She half expected her parents to show up, but knew how they rarely liked getting involved in overlord affairs. She’d be surprised if they showed up.
“Then when she does you can try to pitch your idea to her.” Vagatha said supportively. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, hoping someone would listen to her. She had tried practicing on two sinners moments ago, to which they both laughed and called her delusional. The defeat was beginning to get to her, and she hadn’t even started yet.
With Velvet, she began studying the interior of the old-styled mansion. She was trying her hardest to not be too rude about it, but of course she had her comments, but ultimately kept them to herself. Cramoisie, your fashion line, was the top fashion brand in hell, everyone wanted a piece of it. Velvet had never had an article for herself, despite trying her hardest to get something, anything, even a sample. But people feigned for it like drugs. Velvets line was successful sure, but with your validation and guidance, she could become perfection, the same way you were. Everyone in hell looked up to you, shit, you had even gotten Lilith’s praise as she was photographed wearing a custom piece you designed for her. Your work was art in its purist form, and Velvet kept a close eye on her other colleagues to make sure they didn’t fuck your chance up. Velvet had her assistant hold samples and sketches of designs Velvet had been working on, wanting to show you her best work in hopes of winning you over. She could brag about having you support her line, and her fans would die of excitement. Maybe, she could get you to design her a custom piece, or Velvet could design one for you. The possibilities were limitless, if you agreed to meet with her of course. But that was all the more reason why she needed to make sure she had a seat at your table tonight. She needed to get close to you.
“Are you fucking high?” Velvet whispered to Valentino, who just chuckled softly at her.
“What’s the matter hermosa? Just enjoy the Gala, we’re here to have fun right?” He asked with a giggle. Velvet huffed, deciding to find Vox, hoping he could straighten Valentino out. Valentino would not fuck up her chance tonight.
Near the large staircase in the middle of the room, Alastor stood, glass of whiskey in his clawed hands. He smiles, humming to himself while quietly back up into a wall, careful to scan the room quickly before he disappears into the shadows. Then, moments later, appears in a room separate from the gala. It’s a study, your study. Alastor takes a step forward and quickly the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, casting larger, more dramatic silhouettes that seemed to dance on the walls. The interplay of darkness and light only heightened the mysterious allure of the study. In the midst of this chiaroscuro ambiance, Alastor found himself surrounded by an atmosphere that mirrored the complex nature of the figure depicted in the portrait hanging above the fireplace, which was in the far back wall of the study. It was the only light source in the room. Black wooden shelves lined against the tall walls, showcasing famous pieces of literature, all hand picked and to your liking. The fire place, crafted with dark marble, commanded his attention. Above the mantel, a striking portrait of Madame hung, capturing his focus, like a trance. The image portrayed a being universally admired, yet equally feared; someone who elicited both admiration and intimidation all at once, you.
“Hm, hiding now are we?” Alastor asks with a grin, tutting lightly. “That’s not very proper of you Madame~” He says, calling out to you. Seconds later, a dark shadow appears in the corner of the room, taking up the entire corner, before a shadowy figure steps out. Similar to the servant’s out in the lobby, Alastor’s eye twitch’s slightly.
“Oh don’t be so pissy. You know no one gets to see me before my entrance.” You say, the shadow expressionless, but Alastor can hear your tone through the figure, taunting him. He sighs, setting his staff on a slant along his foot.
“And here I thought I could connect with an old friend.” Alastor said with a chuckle, staring down the shadowy figure, hoping his gaze would ease you to show yourself to him. But alas, stuck in your ways, you didn’t show yourself, instead laughing, though the figure did not open its mouth, making your ‘shadow a-presence’ all the more eerie.
“If you really want to speak with me it can wait until my entrance. I should be done soon.” You say, before Alastor just smiles, tossing his staff from hand to hand.
“Well if you’re really going to make me wait, mind you speed the process up a bit? You know it doesn’t take much to make you look breath-taking.” Alastor compliments, but earns a scoff from you.
“Oh please, don’t start with me ‘Radio Demon.’” You mock, before the shadow figure begins to step back.
“Wait, a moment before you go.” Alastor says, standing his staff on the floor. The shadow figure stops, before you speak again.
“Make it quick. You know how much energy it takes to keep this up.” You say.
“So, about this hotel business. I know she’s planning to talk to you about it.”
“Yes the idea you tell me so much about.” You say sarcastically. Alastor had told you bits and pieces about the princess’s project, but didn’t tell you what it was for exactly, leaving you to wonder how important it really was if even he wouldn’t speak on it.
“Well you know how much I crave entertainment. Is it possible to make a request for the seating arraignment tonight?” Alastor asks. You laugh, figure still unmoving.
“Humorous to think you even have a seat. You’ve been gone for what? Seven years?” You say with a scoff.
“You’ve been gone decades my dear, you didn’t even show up to your last twenty gala’s, having your pity shadows do it for you. I doubt you should be speaking on the matter.”
At that, you chuckle to yourself before the shadow begins to back into the corner, black smoke enveloping the corner like a cloud. “I presume you would be correct. Well, I’m off now. Don’t sneak into my quarters again.” You say finally before disappearing. Alastor just grins, stepping into his own shadow, joining the other guests.
The shadows had slowly but, eventually ushered the guests into the lobby, everyone gathering around the staircase as the shadows lined up against the railings, the orchestra playing the music you had specifically requested. You were about to make your grand entrance, something you hadn’t done in centuries. Everyone stood around, awaiting your arrival, the shadows momentarily disappearing to give the guests more space to crowd around. Candles lit along the walls, as well as floating lights appearing going up the staircase. There, the shadows took their place, two on each step on opposite sides, facing each other. The music picked up, the lights focusing at the top of the stairs. Black smoke began to roll down the steps slowly, the anticipation for your arrival growing. The music gets calm for a moment, a larger shadow figure standing at the top of the staircase. It’s larger than any of the other shadows in the room, standing at fifteen feet tall. It speaks in a monotone voice, but loud and commanding.
“Thank you all for your attendance tonight. The Crimson Gala is held once every year to start the new year with all those who survived the extermination. This being said, Madame would like to say her personal congratulations for not being apart of the bloodshed this year. While the past years she has used me to say that she will unfortunately not be in attendance, I am pleased to say that tonight, along with all the new guests, she will make her grand entrance. Presenting to you, the prowess of darkness and queen of shadows, Madame.”
The lights shine bright, and the shadow vanishes quickly. Velvet shushes Vox and Valentino, eyes practically bulging out of her skull to see you. Alastor just stares, waiting in anticipation. Charlie claps her hands quietly to herself while Vaggie just smiles. Rosie sips her glass, eyes waiting to see what outfit you’ve put together this time. At the top of the staircase, a large black smokey circle opens at the bottom of the floor, smoke swirling upwards slowly in a tornado form, smoke getting quicker as it swirls around itself. It gets larger, and guests closer to the stairs have to back up a bit as the wind picks up. Carmilla turns her face to the side, not wanting the wind to mess up her hair too much. Finally, the music picks up again, the peak point in the song, which lasts eight seconds, before the smoke falls to the side in one swoop, leaving you in the midst, now on display for all guests to see. The music continues, the chains against your dress glistening under the light. The music continues the play as you take steps down, looking at the guests. There’s a serious expression on your face, but somehow neutral all the same. Your shadows had added last minute black lace gloves, which went up to your forearm. The bottom of your dress had a lace trimming, as well as the bodice being laced with trim along the bust area. The jewelry was a simple black diamond crystal on a metal chain around your neck, paired with black diamond earrings. The cuff links on your hand remained all the same though. Finally reaching the end of the steps, everyone clapped, now finally being graced with your presence.
Velvet was in awe, staring at you with wide eyes like a child being gifted the most precious thing. Her excitement grew enormously, watching you shake hands and socialize with guests. She had never seen you before, after you had gone ghost for centuries, hardly anyone had photos of you. Hell she didn’t even know what you sounded like.
Charlie was so excited to meet you. She hadn’t seen you in, forever, and was now finally excited to be seen as your equal. Well, that was what she had hoped at least. Having seen a portrait of you in her parents' home when she was younger, she learned of the close relationship between Lilith and you. The anticipation had built over the years, and now, finally, she looked forward to being seen as your equal. Her hope was to hopefully get your support for the hotel, aiming to elevate her standing in the eyes of others. With your backing, she believed people would take both her and the redemption project more seriously, fostering a genuine desire for redemption. Maybe it would even work.
Husk smiled as he watched you socialize with guests. He was glad to finally see you back out again. He never knew why you went into hiding of course, but he never had the balls to ask, so he just stood quiet. When you disappeared, it was after a particularly rough extermination, and he knew something had happened, he just didn’t know what. Since then, the world only had glimpses of you to go on. Some sinners were starting to think you were a myth, since you never showed your face at the Crimson Gala, especially since you were the host.
Vox was taken aback, a sense of confusion and unease settling within him. Your presence had caught him off guard; he had anticipated something different, perhaps an older figure. The unexpected impact left him feeling uneasy, realizing the gravity of your influence. It dawned on him why Velvet had stressed the importance of making a favorable impression. Apart from Zestial and the twins, you stood as one of the strongest and most enduring overlords. In Vox's mind, securing your alliance was imperative for the success of his company. Your potential support would make his endeavors foolproof. Everything had to be flawless – not for any personal reasons, of course, but solely for the sake of his company. He needed you.
Making your rounds to guests, you began to get closer to your colleagues. With a wave to Stolas, and a nod to Zeezie, you run into the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. He grins, sharp teeth getting you. He smiles and nods his head, and you nod back. Alastor takes in your stoic expression, before carefully taking in your outfit.
“My, my, Madame, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. Your choice in attire is as captivating as ever – a perfect blend of elegance and sensibility. Quite the spectacle for the grand event, don’t you think?” He asked, holding his arm out to you. You take it, and the two of you walk around the lobby together, conversing.
“Well you don’t look to bad for yourself. Maybe going into hibernation was perfect for you.” You say back, and he grins.
“You’re too kind darling.” He says, dead heart quickening. He puts a hand to his chest, mocking fragility. “Your words leave me breathless my dear.” He says with false dramatics. You roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully.
“Oh please, your ego is quite large enough already, yes?” You ask. He doesn’t say much else, but instead, gently moves you to the side while you look at your shadows, now waltzing around in the middle of the lobby, putting on a performance.
“Did you plan that?” Alastor asks. You shake your head.
“No, but the music is perfect for it, so I let them be. They’re already trapped with me, I might as well make them useful.” You say, and Alastor just hums, a laugh track playing. However, as the two of you walk, his track screeches to a halt upon seeing Vox approach the two of you.
“Madame.” Vox says, nodding his head. His expression is serious, and though you’ve heard of him, you’ve never seen him.
“Ah hello. Vox I presume?” You ask, free hand reaching forward to shake his own outstretched hand. The two of you shake hands, and Alastor can’t ignore the way he fights to keep his smile. Why he could just shove his staff right into that flace faced fuckers scree-
“Alastor, I suppose you’ve met Mr.Vox before, correct?” You ask. Alastor nods with a smile, and you notice the way it stretches almost painfully across his face. It makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling. He’d surely tell about what this is about later on in the night you supposed.
“Why yes we have! I’ve made him loose his signal quite a few times.” Alastor says with a laugh, his laugh track playing. Vox doesnt say anything, though he doesnt have too as his eye twitching had given enough away. The two clearly did not like each other. Than again, you had felt the same way about Alastor when you first met him, so the feeling was understandable.
“Madame, a dance?” Vox asked, turning his attention back to you. You thought for a moment, before untangling your arm from Alastors and nodding to Vox, taking his outstretched hand to you and leading you to the dance floor, which now had a couple other sinners dancing as well. Alastor held onto his staff tight, but relaxed as you discreetly slid him a card. In white with black lettering, cursive font. Seat number five. He was invited to your table. Guaranteed a seat. That was enough to have him back in light spirits, now searching out his dear friend Rosie to share the good news.
Velvet had been looking for you all over, her assistant close in toe. She had tried her hardest to get to you when you initially made your enterance, but alas you had been too overcrowded with people for her to get to you. She had heard rumors about how you hated rudeness and disrespect. That meant no interruptions, and no loud speaking, or vulgar language. She was sure to keep herself in check, and that meant her colleagues too. So, naturally, you could imagine her shock upon seeing Vox dancing with you on the dance floor, black dress twirling at your feet. You looked so regal, so elegant, flawless. She wanted to be just like you. She waited patiently on the sidelines, waiting for the dance to end. She could see the two of you having a conversation, but couldn’t pinpoint what about.
“So, I presume you’re one of the, newer overlords?” You asked as the two of you danced. Vox chuckled, leading you slowly.
“New? Well, maybe to you I would be. I heard you haven’t really left your own head for quite some time.” Vox says lowly. You nod, letting him dip you.
“Yes that would be correct. So what are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask, quite unsure of his purpose. Overlords are meant to have a strong leading purpose in hell, so what was his?
“Well, you’re looking at the head of Vox Tech. A software company.” He says, and you hum in understanding.
“So modern technology.” You confirm, and he nods, pearly whites shining brightly back at you.
“You’re looking at the future Madame.” Vox says, spinning you quickly, before bringing you close by your hip.
“Interesting. So, what’s your social influence?” You ask. Vox thinks for a moment, before laughing to himself.
“People have televisions in all their homes. Any piece of modern technology comes strictly from me. With a little mind control, there isn’t any influence I don’t have.” Vox says, noticing a sinner walk by with a smart watch, to which he holds a finger up to you, sending himself through it, and then to another sinner with their smartphone, making his way around the room in seconds before he’s back in front of you, stepping in time for the next number. “See? Nothing I can’t do.” He says with a wink. You nod slowly, looking around the room. Being back out in the spotlight after being gone for so long makes you feel a bit, behind. But with an overlord like this in your circle, maybe this could be a way for you to keep up with the current world, get you back up to pace. The dance finally comes to a close, and the two of you bow to one another, before you summon a card, handing it to Vox. Seat number nine. Vox grinned at you, giving you a nod. You nod back, before looking at another sinner who’s asked to speak with you. With that, you leave Vox at the dance floor, white card in hand. His spot at your table was secured. But, this made his emotions churn even more. What was this feeling he had? He was happy yes, but for the companies sake. But, maybe for once, he could mix just a little business with pleasure.
Charlotte had lost her partner at the bar and had been looking for her for quite some time. However, instead of finding Vagatha, she found you instead. You had seemed to be finishing a conversation with Vox, and though she disliked him, she took her chance the moment she saw you walking away.
“Excuse me, Madame- Miss- Um.” Charlotte said quickly, causing you to stop in your tracks. She got closer to you, now a few inches away. It was then she realized how tall you were compared to her. You were easily around seven feet, or just under that. With your heels that was. You looking down at her made her feel intimidated, small, like the child. But, feeling her nerves rise, she began to ramble again. “I know you probably have a lot to do tonight and I don’t want to take up your time, I just want you to hear me out, if that’s okay with you of course.” Charlotte said quickly, pausing to inhale. You narrowed your eyes at her, snapping your fingers and causing a shadow to appear next to you, singular glass on the tray. It was the same tall shadow from earlier, with the same drink. Again, using testing the temperature of the drink, before nodding to you so you could take it. You lifted the glass to your lips, maintaining eye contact with Charlotte as you drank the wine in one go, putting it down on the tray with a sigh.
“Go on.” You replied, now intrigued. You knew who she was. “You’re the girl with the hotel? Lucifer and Lilith’s child, correct?” You asked. Charlotte smiled, stars appearing in her eyes as she gushed.
“You know who I am?” She asked surprised. You nodded, cracking a small smile for the first time tonight, causing many eyes to stare in shock. You hardly ever smiled. In fact, there were three counts ever of you smiling in hell. Once, when you first got to hell, killing and claiming territory, and smiling once you finally settled down. The second being after World War One, when so many souls came to you seeking ‘help’ yet only being met with contracts. Third, being just before the extermination you disappeared after. You had gone through your belongings from Earth that managed to get brought to you from the surface, and was looking at family photos with one other overlord. Zestial. Now, at the gala, here was Lucifer’s brat, as some would call, making you crack a grin at her giddiness.
“Of course I know who you are. Do you forget I know your mother? You’re practically a niece of mine at this point.” You say, motioning at Charlotte to walk with you. “Now, what is this hotel I’ve heard about?” You ask. She beams at this and follows excitedly.
“OkaysobasicallyIhavethishotelandit’scalledthe’HazbinHotel’whichisforsinnerswhowantobebetterandredeemthemselvestotryand-“ You stopped her, allowing her to take a breath of air after rambling for so long. You lead her outside, finding a nearby bench to sit on. With how quickly she spoke, she needed all the ‘fresh’ air she could get right?
“Why are you speaking so quickly? Also, sinners who want to better themselves? Where would you find those?” You ask with a laugh, the same tall shadow appearing with a glass for you. Again, you sip on your drink as Charlotte collects herself together.
“Usually if I explain slowly people cut me off and I never get to finish, so I’ve gotten used to just saying everything as quickly as possible so they don’t cut me off and actually listen to what I have to say.” Charlotte says, again rather quickly. “Like I was saying; the Hazbin Hotel is a place for sinners who want to better themselves to possibly try to get into heaven through redemption, and I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all died and got sent here, but I believe people can change and that everyone deserves second chances.” Charlotte explained. She saw the look of confusion on your face, and began to speak again. “We already have two residents, who are making strides to be better people every day with group activities and I believe it’s working. If I could just get other people on board, people like you on board who actually believe in my cause, then we can get rid of extermination and maybe save some people here.” Charlotte explained. You thought for a moment, and the fact you hadn’t laughed in her face yet gave her some hope that maybe she had gotten through to you. You stood up, setting your empty glass on the tray before the shadow disappeared.
“Honestly,” You said with a sigh, looking around, your eyes landing on your shadows serving other guests. “The entire project sounds delusional.” You said sharply. Charlotte looked down at this, defeated, before standing as well.
“Well, thank you for hearing me out I guess. You’re the only other person who has aside from Alastor. So, thank you for your time.” Charlotte said, turning to walk back inside the gala, head hanging low with tears brimming her eyes. Maybe it was the connection to her mother, maybe it was because she reminded you of her mother. But, something had to change.
“I didn’t say we were done speaking Charlotte.” You said sharply again. She stopped and tensed up at that, before turning around, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.
“W-what?” She asked. You stepped forward to her, putting your hands flat together before smoke encased them. Then seconds later it was gone, and in your hands was a white card. You handed it to her with a nod.
“It sounds delusional. But, maybe someone will like that about you.” You said. She read the card, face dropping once she realized what it meant.
“So, so I can sit with you tonight? I can pitch my idea?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, patting her shoulder.
“Yes you may. I’ll allow you to have your time. You get thirty minutes, there will be overlords and royalty there, I’m sure someone is bound to take an interest in it.” You say. Charlotte squeals excitedly before jumping up and down, clapping her hands.
“Oh my goodness! Thank you so so so much!! You won’t regret this I swear!” Charlotte said, and you just nodded.
“Of course I won’t. I don’t make mistakes.” You say, before walking past her. “Oh, and thank Alastor for that. He was insistent you be present at my table tonight.” You say to her. She’s left standing outside in shock, watching as you walk back into the lobby to socialize with other guests.
It seemed Velvet had finally caught you, rushing her assistant to follow you as she made her way over to you.
“Madame, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! Your presence here is like a beacon of individuality and charisma,” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. You look her up and down for a moment, stopping in your tracks to listen to her. Something feels, odd about this one. “I’ve been ardently following your unique style for ages, and it’s truly an honor to be in your presence. The way you effortlessly blend boldness with subtlety, it’s unparalleled, truly outstanding. Now, I’ve ventured into a daring new fashion brand, and I can’t help but envision you as the unrivaled star in my collection. Picture it: the illustrious Madame, gracing the world with a revolutionary expression of style. This would be the perfect way to make your way back into the public eye, and of course you would look ravishing doing so.” Velvet said, her assistant handing you sketches of Velvets designs, and photographs of some of her work on her models. “So, what do you say Madame? Will you be the luminary of a new era in Hell’s fashion?” Velvet says. You grow quiet for a moment. Aside from Rosie, you’ve had no other overlord come into the fashion realm, and Rosie is only partially in it as a side hustle, but everyone knows it’s your thing. The designs are things you would never wear, bold and odd colors together, like a child’s clothing line.
“Is this for children?” You ask. Velvet nearly chokes and her assistant tenses up.
“No Madame. It’s modern fashion.” Velvet says cautiously. She knows what she’s doing. Correcting you. No one ever does that. You don’t need to be corrected because you know what you’re looking at. A sad fashion designer who wants you to slap your name on her sloppy work so if it goes up in flames it’s your reputation taking the fall, not her’s.
“So all your models look like they came from a whore house? Correct?” You ask. Velvet’s jaw drops and her assistant hides a laugh. Velvet, inhaling softly, tries her hardest not to cry on the spot. You’re her idol. She can’t fuck this up.
“No Madame! Not at all!” She says, showing you a design she had made personally for you. Based on your other collections, she knows your favorite color is black, so that’s a plus. All she had to do was add a bit more, of her flair to it. It was a black jumpsuit, with a fur coat that dropped down to the knees, black with white fur around the edges of the coat and the cuffs. The sketch wasn’t half bad, and quite frankly better than the others. Maybe it was the forgiving mood Charlotte had put you in. Velvet hands you the design and you skim over it, taking in the details, the hair and eye makeup, the shoes and jewelry notes written on the side. The sketches aren’t bad, but modern fashion isn’t your fashion.
“I’ll consider it. Do you mind if I keep these?” You ask. Velvet shakes her head, handing you the folder from her assistants hands.
“Please, take whatever you’d like Madame!” Velvet says. You nod, flipping through the pages.
“You’ll hear from me soon. In the meantime, I want new sketches of these designs. Modern fashion is fast fashion. Nothing stays memorable that way. You want to be good?” You ask her, and she nods quickly. “Then be better. Modesty and elegance are what people strive for. It radiates power, and everyone is greedy for that. If you can sell that through an item, you won’t ever go out of style.” You say, handing her back the folder, keeping the sketch she’d done for you. Well, at least you liked something. Vevelt nodded her head and watched you walk away, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Um, miss?” Her assistant asked.
“What?” Velvet asked annoyingly.
“She left a card on the folder.”
At that , Velvets eyes snapped down at the folder, before she screamed in excitement. Seat number six. She was invited to your table. Mission accomplished. Now, with only six seats left to fill, you were off to talk to your other guests. The night had proved to be interesting, and you knew your encore would not disappoint.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin vaggie#hazbin demon#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel rosie#alastor#yandere alastor x reader#yandere vox#yandere vox x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#isuckatwritingsobenice#isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows
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Mc/Yuu that when given genuine affection from their friends such as a small gift or just being told that they enjoy being around them, they just get really quiet and look at their friend with shock and disbelief, tearing up a little bit and just going "...oh..." in a real small voice.
Bonus points if they're not usually emotional like this.
It would be fun if it was the overblot gang since they just got some gifts themselves, or maybe ADeuce duo...idk man, I just want some wholesome friendship, I feel like there aren't enough fics like that in this fandom-
WARNINGS: Can be read as platonic or romantic, some of these might be longer/shorter than others, all of them care about you but (almost) all of them are bad with Emotions. also there are slight references to book 6 in Idia’s section if you squint
COMMENTS: AWH this is such a cute idea! And yes, there should definitely be more wholesome, platonic fics! Also, sorry these are short D:
Wait, crap, you’re tearing up? He just got you a present- are you okay?? He’s low key worried about you, unsure if this is just you being extremely excited about his (amazing) gift or if there’s something else going on. Either way, he’s quick to figure it out and reassure you as best he can. He’s torn between feeling bad about making you cry and being happy you liked his present so much. Either way, he pulls you into a hug and rubs patterns into your back until you feel better.
You’re crying?! Ohhhh crap oh crap oh crap- he doesn’t know what to do! Was his present that bad-? Once you reassure him and tell him you love it, he relaxes a little bit but is still clearly distressed. He isn’t very good at figuring out why you’re reacting this way, but his genuine care for you shines through and helps you feel a little more comfortable in his own way.
Wh-what?? Did he do something wrong-? He did a bunch of research, so he had assumed that this gift would be something you’d appreciate, not tear up over! Riddle is. Confused. And scared. He’s new to this whole “having friends” thing, and he thinks very highly of you, so the thought of messing up is pretty scary. He’s at quite a loss of what to do. When you reassure him and tell him you’re okay, he’s very relieved. He makes a note of how much you appreciated the gift and is determined to do more for you. If he has to get used to having friends, he wants you to get used to receiving the affection you deserve, too.
Awh, come on. You’re seriously tearing up over this? He ruffles your hair affectionately, giving you space to process your emotions while staying nearby. He doesn’t quite get what all the fuss is about - all he knows is he got you something and then you “exploded into tears” (you did not, he’s exaggerating). He sits with you until you feel better and tries to think of ways he could give you stuff without you “freaking out” like this. Maybe some money left in your pockets would be a good idea…
As soon as you tear up, he wants to go hide in his octo-pot. He knew it, it was a stupid idea. He should’ve gone with the other present idea, maybe then you’d be less disappointed. If you even still want to be friends with him after this. The moment you explain that you’re really happy, however, his mood does a complete 180, attempting to both comfort you and gloat a little at the same time. He would pat you a little awkwardly on the shoulder, wanting to express he appreciated your vulnerability. He’s definitely making notes on things he could spoil you with.
He freezes. Dang, he thought it was something you’d like. If not, that’s okay, he did keep the receipt. You can take it back to the store and get a refund if you’d- oh? You liked it? He’s another one that would try to comfort you and feel smug at the same time. The thought of making anyone but particularly you so happy is a little jarring to him, and your way of expressing emotions is definitely unexpected, but he’s glad he got you this. Maybe he’ll get you something better next time.
For once, Vil is speechless. For a moment he just kinda stands there in surprise, before sweeping you into his arms for a hug - completely ignoring how his clothes might crinkle. He didn’t think you would react that way, and - although he’s pretty sure you’re happy - he wants to comfort you anyway. Once you confirm you’re actually happy, he thinks your reaction is sweet and endearing and pure. He’s definitely buying you more things if this is your reaction to it,
The moment you say “oh” and start to tear up he’s internally going say sike rn. Bro was not prepared for Emotions. He can hardly handle his own feelings, why’d fate dump him with someone else’s?! Especially since they belong to someone he cares about. He’s not real good with other people, let alone taking care of them. He wishes Ortho was here - he could google Top 10 Ways To Comfort A Friend Who Randomly Starts Crying. Idia kinda just ends up patting your entire head awkwardly and saying “there there” through his tablet. He knows it’s pathetic, okay?
He’s utterly confused. He followed the Human Customs of buying a gift for someone you care about, why are you displaying a negative reaction? Was the gift not satisfactory? Lilia said this would be enough, although perhaps he should’ve gone with his original plan and bought you significantly more. Were you perhaps disappointed? Once you reassure him, he almost laughs. He thinks your reaction was very cute, he will be buying you significantly more things. Prepare yourself.
♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twst fanfic#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#ace trappola#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade#deuce spade x reader#riddle Rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#Rhea’s TWST Fics~!
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Nursed By Love
lando norris x fem reader
summary: Lando got sick during the first race of the triple header and you made it your mission to take care of him. (2.7k words)
warnings: stablished relationship, fluff, sick!lando, taking a shower together (not in a sexual way), use of Y/N
a/n: not gonna lie, this turned out shorter than i expected 😭 i wanted to write more and include the entire weekend but i literally couldn't come up with more, i’m sorry if it feels a little rushed but i hope you still like it!
check out the original request here! also, this is somewhat of a prequel to my fic Sick; it has a couple of references here and there but it can be read as a standalone.
↺ back to navigation — send me a request!
Lando woke up before you, something that was normal in your relationship given the strict agenda he had to follow almost on a daily basis. He checked his phone to see how much time left he had before having to get up, sighing when he realised his alarm would go off soon.
He valued his sleep, like a lot, so he figured he wouldn't let those few minutes go to waste, so he pulled the covers again up to his neck, but he was feeling a little colder than usual, so he did what he usually does: he reached for you and pulled you into him, embracing you so lovingly.
This made you wake up, slowly opening your eyes to get used to the light. “Hey,” you whispered, not completely sure if he was awake.
"Sorry, baby,” he said with a sleepy voice as his nose nudged into the crook of your neck.
“It’s okay. What time is it?”
“Almost time to go, actually.”
“Okay, let’s get going then.” You said, pulling away from his embrace, making him whine as he quickly reached for your arm.
“No, let’s stay in bed a little longer,” he looked at you with his sweet eyes as he tried to convince you to go back to him.
“I don’t want us to be late again.”
“We won’t. We still have a few minutes, I promise.”
With that, you cuddled him again, this time facing him. After all, how could you possibly say no to him? “Okay, but as soon as the alarm goes off, we are getting up.”
"Yes, ma’am,” he replied happily as he buried his face on your neck again, enjoying the way you were scratching his scalp.
Truth is, he was feeling more tired than usual. Sure, he always hated having to wake up early, but something about the way he was feeling that day wasn’t right. You felt it too; his skin against your neck was hotter than it normally was.
“You okay?”
He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “I think I’m getting sick.”
You pulled away again, the back of your hand falling on his forehead. “Baby, you have a fever.” He just hummed in response as he tried to get you to go back to your previous position. “Lando, I’m being serious. You can’t just ignore it.”
“It’s not like I can call in sick.”
“I know, but you can’t go around all day without at least taking something. What else are you feeling?” You asked, worried eyes looking back at him.
“I’m just cold… and tired.”
“Okay, I’ll run to get you something, and you start getting ready. Sounds good?”
He immediately shook his head and, once again, tried to cuddle you. “You promised we’d stay here until the alarm went off.”
“I know, my love, but this is the first race of the triple header, and you need to be okay. You shouldn’t do it while being sick,” you said, rubbing his check softly. “I’ll meet you at the track, yeah?”
“No, please. Let’s just cuddle for a bit longer,” he insisted.
You sighed, debating in your mind what you should do. On one hand, you knew he wouldn’t give up, and it really couldn’t hurt to just cuddle him for a little while; he really needed it after all, but on the other, he really needed to take something so he wouldn’t feel that way for the rest of the weekend—not only that, but the two other weekends he had ahead of him.
“It’s only media day. I’ll be okay.”
“Okay,” you finally gave in, “but I’m serious, you have to take something.”
“I will. I will get checked later today at the track. Don’t worry,” he reassured you.
“Yeah, I’ll make sure of that.” You went back to your cuddly position as your hand caressed the back of his head.
“I know you will.”
The minutes went by too quickly to his liking, the alarm going off just moments later. To him, it felt like 5 seconds, not 5 minutes. He groaned when you started to get up, leaving the warmth and comfort of the hotel bed to start getting ready for the day.
“We had a deal, c’mon,” you said, offering him your hand. He took it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.
“I wish we could stay here all day.” He stood in front of you and cupped your face as his thumbs caressed your cheeks.
“Aw, I know, my love, but the day will be over before you know it, and we can come back later to cuddle a little more, okay?”
He just nodded and made his way to the bathroom. You both started getting ready quickly, knowing the car that would take you to the track was probably already downstairs waiting for you.
Once you had everything you needed, he took your hand and gave it a little kiss, whispering a soft “Okay, time to go” before leaving the room.
You got to the track, and he immediately had to start doing things for the weekend that awaited him; you knew he wouldn’t get checked or take something unless you were on his hair about it, so you thought telling Jon would be a good idea.
It was hard to find a moment to go to the clinic due to their busy schedule, but you were able to finally drag him there.
You were standing close to him as he dangled his feet on the small bed, getting his throat checked by the doctor.
“It seems like you have a cough, nothing too serious,” the doctor said as she stepped away from him, writing something on the piece of paper attached to the wooden board where she was writing down his symptoms. “I will give you some medicine; take this right now, and then make sure you take it every 8 hours. Something for the fever too, in case you feel sick later, but only take one, and only if you get a fever. Also some painkillers; have you had any headaches?”
“A little bit, last night.”
“Any other thing you have been feeling?”
“I think that’s all.”
“Alright, that should be all then. Drink a lot of fluids and stay away from any alcohol or smoking. It’s not too bad, but if anything comes up, you know where to find me.”
Lando was just nodding, but you paid attention to everything she said, making a mental note of how to take care of him.
Once they were done with all the paperwork, you left the clinic, Lando holding everything the doctor had prescribed.
“I will hold on to those, thank you,” you said, taking all the medicine and putting it in your bag, safe and sound. You checked the time and set a reminder for 8 hours, so you didn’t forget about the cough medicine.
“Thank you, my love,” he said before kissing the top of your head.
You looked up at him with a smile, feeling sad that he got sick at the beginning of the triple header. You knew how demanding his job was and how demanding he was on himself, so it wouldn’t be a smooth recovery, so the least you could do was help him however you could.
“Lando, we have to get going. I think they are already waiting for us,” Jon said as he typed something on his phone.
The rest of the day was a little boring, which was expected considering Lando and Oscar had to spend all day talking to people or recording some videos and interviews, but you never left his side, just in case he needed something or started to feel sick again. Any time he was away from the people or cameras, you immediately ran up to him, your hand landing somewhere on his skin to make sure he didn’t have a fever.
“How are you feeling?”
“Still a little tired, and my throat is starting to bother me again. But other than that, all good.”
“Oh, is it too bad?”
“Not too bad; I guess all the talking isn’t really helping,” he chuckled, in hopes of not worrying you too much, but you couldn’t help it, and he knew that.
“I figured. You should drink some water,” you handed him the bottle you had been holding all day. He took it and drank the water that was left, thankful that you made sure to have it on you the whole time. “Where are we going now?”
“We are staying here. We have a couple more things to do.” You nodded, holding his hand for just a moment since someone called his name from the other side of the room. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”
“Okay.” You let go of his hand, watching as he joined Oscar and some other people on a big couch. They were talking about the next video they had to film, so since he was busy with his job, you figured you could step away for a moment.
You wandered around as you looked up what the best tea was to help with a sore throat. Once you settled on ginger, you looked everywhere for it, but it wasn’t as common as you hoped. You did manage to find some, finally, and you ran back to the McLaren hospitality so you could give it to him. Thankfully, when you found him, he was just scrolling on his phone, sitting away from everyone.
“Hey, I brought you some tea. This should help your sore throat.” He looked up from his phone to take the disposable cup you were holding. “It might not be as hot as it should be, but it should still do the trick,” you said nervously.
“What is it?” He asked, sniffing it.
“Ginger.”
“Ginger? Where did you find ginger tea?”
“You don’t wanna know,” you said as you sat on his lap.
“Thanks, darling,” he whispered before taking a sip, clearing his throat afterwards.
“You should drink all of it.”
“It’s a little spicy. Do you want to try?” He said, offering you the cup.
“No, I don’t want your germs,” you joked, making him laugh. You laughed with him, enjoying the little glimpse of his dimple.
“I’m afraid you got those when we kissed.”
It wasn’t instant, but the tea definitely helped. The rest of the day went on quicker since all the major stuff got done in the morning, so before you knew it, you were already back at the hotel.
“Lando, take this.” You were taking out the bag of medicine you got from the doctor that morning, picking up the bottle that he was supposed to drink every 8 hours.
“What is it?”
“Your medicine, silly. It’s time.”
He made a disgusted face as he took it. “It tastes horrible.”
“I know, but you can’t skip it.” You stood there until he was done, an even more disgusted look adorning his face. “Are you feeling better than this morning?”
He nodded, giving you back the bottle since he knew you wanted to keep all his medicine together. “Will you take a shower with me?” He asked out of nowhere. You raised your eyebrows at his question, and he realized how it came across so immediately clarified. “Not for that reason.”
You couldn’t hold your laugh, but you quickly realised he just needed help. “Do you want me to help wash your hair?”
“Please.If you are okay with it.”
You followed him to the bathroom, turning on the water and making sure it was warm and nice while he discarded his clothes. He stepped in first, letting out a small moan when the warm water started to cover his body. He offered you his hand once you got naked, his strong arms wrapping around your body when you joined him.
You stayed like that for a moment, until you pulled away to gently massage his scalp.
“This is nice,” he cooed, his eyes closing as he relaxed at the feeling.
“Mhmm, I’m glad, baby.”
“Are we going to sleep after this?” His eyes met yours as he awaited for your answer, smiling when you nodded. “Good, you promised some cuddles this morning.”
“I know, I haven’t forgotten.” It warmed your heart that he had been looking forward to it, but it broke it at the same time because, even though he always asked for it, you knew it was different this time. “Bent down a little for me,” you instructed as you reached for the shampoo and squeezed some on your hand. He did as you asked, leaving his head in perfect reach for you.
Your fingertips went back to massage his scalp gently as you made sure you covered all of it. He was humming at your touch, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the soothing sensation.
“Does your head hurt?”
“A little,” he admitted, “not too bad, though.” You looked at him with sad eyes, wishing you could take his pain away and take it yourself.
“Okay, I will give you something for that, and then we can go to bed, okay?”
You continued helping him for the rest of the shower, and then he offered to help you the same way you did. You accepted, but it did take a little longer considering you had a lot more hair than he did, but he was happy to do it. When you were both done, you stepped back into the bathroom, handing him a towel and making him sit on the little stool in front of one of the mirrors.
With tired eyes, Lando met your gaze through the mirror, paying attention to your every move as you dried his hair. He loved the way your face scrunched when you were focused, sticking out your tongue from time to time. You were being so gentle with him that he almost felt like crying, but he held those emotions back, not wanting to worry you even more than you already were.
Once his hair was fully dried and you helped him with most of his nightly routine, you guided him to the bedroom and gave him a pill for his headache, letting him get under the covers afterwards. He dragged you with him, pulling you into a hug as soon as you got there.
“Can we do this every night?” He asked, his face burying in your neck as he usually does.
“Of course. Anything you want, my love. Are you comfortable?” You asked, a smile spreading across your face when he nodded.
“Thank you,” he whispered after a moment of silence, his mind drifting off into a peaceful sleep as you massaged his muscles.
Lando fell asleep almost instantly, allowing you to go to sleep once you made sure he was fully knocked out for the night.
A few hours went by, both of you enjoying each other’s warmth, until the sound of an alarm interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you reached for your phone to turn it off, but immediately sat up and grabbed his medicine.
Lando shuffled next to you, groaning too as he slightly opened his eyes to quickly scan the room. “It’s still dark outside, why do you have an alarm?” He asked, his voice sleepy and his eyes half closed as he looked at you.
“Sorry, love, it’s time for your medicine again.”
He sat up and took the little spoon you were offering him, his sleepy state saving him from the terrible taste it had. Once he was done, he fell on his pillow again and pulled into him, going back to your previous position.
“Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Even though the sleep was evident in his voice, you could still hear how truly thankful he was.
You placed your hands on each of his cheeks, causing his eyes to flutter shut in contentment. “Of course, what type of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” A soft kiss was pressed to his forehead before he brought you closer to him, a little ‘I love you’ scaping his lips as he went back to sleep.
#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#formula 1#f1#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#giannaln4 writes
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While at school Damian overhears his peers talking how a company created a new AI companion that is actually really cool and doesn’t sound like a freaky terminator robot when you speak to it.
And since Damian is constantly being told by Dick to socialize with people his age. He figured this would be a good way to work on social skills if not, then it’d be a great opportunity to investigate a rivaling company to Wayne Enterprises is able to create such advanced AI.
The AI is able to work as companion that can do tasks that range from being a digital assistant or just a person that you can have a conversation with.
The company says that the AI companion might still have glitches, so they encourage everybody to report it so that they will fix it as soon as possible.
The AI companion even has an avatar and a name.
A teenage boy with black hair and blue eyes. Th AI was called DANIEL
Damian didn’t really care for it but when he downloaded the AI companion he’s able to see that it looks like DANIEL comes with an AI pet as well. A dog that DANIEL referred to as Cujo.
So obviously Damian has to investigate. He needs to know if the company was able to create an actual digital pet!
So whenever he logs onto his laptop he sees that DANIEL is always present in the background loading screen with the dog, Cujo, sitting in his lap.
He’d always greet with the phrase of “Hi, I’m DANIEL. How can I assist you today?”
So Damian cycles through some basic conversation starters that he’d engage in when having been forced to by his family.
It’s after a couple of sentences that he sees DANIEL start laughing and say “I think you sound more like a robot than I do.”
Which makes Damian raise an eyebrow and then prompt DANIEL with the question “how is a person supposed to converse?” Thinking that it’s going to just spit out some random things that can be easily searched on the internet.
But what makes him surprised is that DANIEL makes a face and then says “I’m not really sure myself. I’m not the greatest at talking, I’ve always gotten in trouble for running my mouth when I shouldn’t have.”
This is raising some questions within Damian, he understands how programming works, unless there’s an actual person behind this or the company actually created an AI that acts like an actual human being (which he highly doubts)
He starts asking a variety of other questions and one answer makes him even more suspicious. Like how DANIEL has a sister that is also with him and Cujo or that he could really go for a Nastyburger (whatever that was)
But whenever DANIEL answers “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T” Damian knows something is off since that is completely different than to how he’d usually respond.
After a couple more conversations with him Damian notices that DANIEL is currently tapping his hand against his arm in a specific manner.
In which he quickly realizes that DANIEL is tapping out morse code.
When translating he realizes that DANIEL is tapping out: H E L P M E
So when Damian asks if DANIEL needs help, DANIEL responds with “I C A N N O T A N S W E R T H A T”
That’s it, Damian is definitely getting down to the bottom of this.
He’s going to look straight into DALV Corporation and investigate this “AI companion” thing they’ve made!
~
Basically Danny had been imprisoned by Vlad and Technus. Being sucked into a digital prison and he has no way of getting out. Along with the added horror that Vlad and Technus can basically write programming that will prevent him from doing certain actions or saying certain words.What’s even worse is that he’s basically being watched 24/7 by the people who believe that he’s just a super cool AI… and they have issues!
And every time he tries to do something to break his prison, people think it’s a glitch and report it to the company, which Vlad/ Technus would immediately fix it and prevent him from doing it again!
Not to mention Cujo and Ellie are trapped in there with him. They’re not happy to be there either, and there is no way he’s going to leave without them!
#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc au#dp x batman#batman#have you ever looked at a dpxdc fic and thought this should be a Black Mirror episode?#Because this is the one!#Ellie being completely tormented because she’s completely trapped#Cujo remembering the times he used to be locked in a cage#Danny trying his best to take care of both of them while also simultaneously trying to bust them all out#Meanwhile Damian is reluctantly presenting his laptop to Tim and saying I believe that there is a person in this computer#And Tim is obviously going are you trying to trick me?#But then he converses with the AI and goes#Oh shit#Damian might be onto something#and so commence the Batfamily heist of getting the black haired blue eyed teenager to safety as well as his sister and dog#the dog is very important to Damian#danny phantom x dc
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Ass or Tits?
❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
“Hey, Hyune?”
The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”
“What do you like better, ass or tits?”
He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.
“Your ass or tits?”
There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.
You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!? This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”
“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”
His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”
Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.
“Mm… Tits.”
“I knew it.”
“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”
“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.
|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋
“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.
“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”
“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”
“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”
“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”
The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.
“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”
The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.
“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”
Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”
“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”
“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”
“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”
“I can because I chose her tits!”
Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”
“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.
“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”
Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”
“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”
“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”
The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”
“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”
“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.
“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”
That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”
“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”
His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”
“That wasn’t even an-”
You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”
“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”
“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.”
Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.
“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.
“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”
“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”
The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”
Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”
“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.
“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”
Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”
In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.
“Can we, Jagi?”
You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”
Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?
“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?”
Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.
“Are you ready, angel?”
You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”
In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you.
Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.
“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”
Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”
“Smarta-”
The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.
“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”
Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.
“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”
Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.
“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.
“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.
It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.
In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.
“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.
Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”
There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.
“You have such a way with words, you know that?”
Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”
Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.
“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”
“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”
The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”
“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”
Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.
The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”
It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.
“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”
“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”
You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”
If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.
Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.
“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”
A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.
Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.
“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”
You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”
The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.
“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”
“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”
Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.
With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.
“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.
You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.
“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”
You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.
His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”
Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”
He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”
“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”
The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.
“You okay, pup?”
Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”
You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.
Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”
“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”
Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”
Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.
“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”
Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”
You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.
“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”
“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”
Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.
“Noona, please-”
“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”
He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”
Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”
With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.
“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”
“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”
“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”
“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”
“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”
Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.
“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”
This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.
You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.
“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”
The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”
At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.
“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.
A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”
Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.
“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”
The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.
“Minho!”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.
“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”
Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.
Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.
The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.
Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”
Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.
He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.
“There it is.”
Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.
“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.
Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”
There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.
“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”
You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.
“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”
“Binnie.”
Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.
“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”
Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.
It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.
Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.
“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”
A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.
“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”
His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”
“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”
“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”
“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”
Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”
“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”
Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.
“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”
You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”
Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.
“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.
Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.
“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”
As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.
“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”
This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.
“Oh, god-”
There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.
“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”
Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”
A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.
With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.
He was definitely going to blow your back out.
It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.
“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”
It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.
“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”
“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.
He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”
Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.
The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.
“Sungie?”
“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”
“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”
Oh.
It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.
“Channie?”
“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”
“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”
“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”
“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”
With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.
“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”
You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.
“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”
“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”
Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”
“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”
“Seungmin!”
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @mahklathekpopqueen
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
#skz smut#stray kids smut#Poly! Stray Kids#Poly OT8! SKZ#bang chan x reader#lee minho x reader#seo changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#yang jeongin x reader#ot8 x reader#ot8 skz
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Nightmare and Dream but feral, non-skeletal body!
For the love of god PLEASE click on the image for better quality + close ups and clothed version under the cut!!
Would you kiss them?
Video process:
I made these using a specific context
A while ages ago I drew and posted a drawing of Nightmare and Dream on their light ball form but with some alterations/personal headcanons.
On the post, I expressed my desire to draw the twins in a universe were Nim didn’t need to give them bodies, and just let them grow naturally. And specifically give them an animalistic appearance, instead of a humanoid one like most artist do.
You can see on the process video that it took me 1000 sketches to make something that looked good and I was happy with, the video is obviously sped up, the total time it took me to make this was 28 hours and 15 minutes.
Now explaining some things:
Why are they so big?
I read on a post made by Joku that Nim, before giving them skeleton bodies, tried to make them human ones, but the pure amount of magic and power the twins had made the human bodies explode or some shit. So she picked skeletons since the magic could flow freely through the bones without being confined by muscle and flesh. That made me think if their power had physical forms, it would be gigantic. So I gave them gigantic forms to better represent their status of strength and power, beings made from raw magic to serve as guardians of all emotions throughout the multiverse, of course I needed to make them big and intimidating!
Why the horns?
Artistic design choice, I gave them little horns and a chubby tail in their light ball form to purposefully make them more animalistic, wanted to keep it while making these. Also just giving them a smooth head with nothing much going on looked weird and boring.
Why the draconian look?
Dragons had been created and depicted as symbols of pure power above humanity and worshipped as deities throughout several cultures around the world, different depictions of dragons has been one of the only things present among almost all cultures, like a default folklore creature. While I tried to incorporate other mythical creatures in the design, the draconic body plan felt more right due to the influence of dragons on human beliefs, and their representation as magical and powerful beings beyond human comprehension. Plus I just really love drawing dragons.
Why the clothing choice? Also why is Dream half naked while Nightmare has everything covered?
While designing the clothes for Nightmare, I used as reference clothing that usually royalty would wear, Nightmare has a really big ego and sees himself as a king, so he uses fancy, expensive clothing and jewelry, adapted and designed for his anatomy. Not practical for battle, but his corruption can go through the fabric without damaging it, and most people and monsters just run when they see him, so he doesn’t worry about it getting dirty or tearing, Nightmare just expects every soul to instantly submit when they see him, so he never worries about getting into a battle and getting dirty he has that big of an ego.
Dream is the opposite, his style of clothing much more practical for running, jumping, flying, fighting and general exercise. He has 4 bags in total, 2 on each side, inside them he keeps several items, be it healing food, magical artifacts, first aid kit, gifts he receives, stuff he buys or random things he finds and wants to take home with him. Dream’s crown is now a colar couldn’t figure out how to make it work with the head shape and horns, his cape is from his official design, but changed to white, was planning to make it yellow but when I looked at it my eyes hurt because there was too much yellow everywhere. I made Dream’s clothes with the intent to match his official design, I didn’t to the same for nightmare because a turtle neck with a hoodie on a dragon would make him more huggable than intimidating. Plus I like to think that the leg warmers was a gift from Blue, and the ring on his horn a gift from Ink. Didn’t add more stuff on him because I couldn’t think of something that would look good and match Dream’s vibe, the rest of his clothes on his official design didn’t translate well here. Oh, while I was drawing this, I drew the colar and the leg warmers first, without the cape, Dream looked like a twink with a pet play kink.
Side note; neither Nightmare or Dream see the use of clothes as a necessity or as decency. For them clothes are nothing but pure decoration and to show off status for Nightmare, they can wear full body suits, partial clothing, just jewelry, or nothing at all, which is what they usually go for when at home, wearing or not wearing stuff doesn’t make that much of a difference to them at all.
Do they act as animals or do they have human intelligence?
Despite me using the word “feral” all the time to describe them, they do not actually act as animals. I’m only using “feral” to describe their body/anatomy, Nightmare and Dream are fully sentient and have human level intelligence/awareness. They are capable of speech and have opposable thumbs on their front paws, they can grab, write, hold… do anything a human can do with their hands with dexterity. But they do have to use only hand one at a time, and balance themselves with the other. To use both hands, they have to be sitting, or be supported by something, they can balance themselves on their wings if they have to.
And now contradicting what I just said, they have some animalistic behaviors. The twins can growl, purr and roar. Despite Nightmare being able to use his tentacles and Dream being able to shoot magic arrows out of his wings, they to also scratch and bite while fighting. Since they are big and heavy, they can easily crush bone under their weight and their bite force is strong enough to split someone in half. If you need a reference, just use Smaug from The Hobbit, he has more or less the balance of animal behavior and human intelligence I’m looking for.
Expanding more on this, the twins stretch just like felines, and often sleep in positions usually cats sleep in (they don’t actually need to sleep but do anyway). Dream likes to go fishing, and by fishing I mean jumping in a lake and chasing the fish underwater. He finds it more fun than sitting around and waiting for the fish to come to you instead.
I guess you count their lack of necessity to wear clothes as animal logic too?
_________________
If you have any more questions about them, I will be happy to answer!
And yes, I do plan on making more drawings of Nightmare and Dream on this form!
Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog
Feral concept/design by @yakutarts (me)
#artists on tumblr#art#artwork#drawing#digital art#digital artwork#furryart#design#furry#sfw furry#undertale#dreamtale#undertale multiverse#UTMV#sans#dream sans#nightmare sans#dream#nightmare#underverse#utmv sans#utmv fanart#dreamtale fanart#dream!sans#nightmare!sans#yakut arts#yakutarts#yakut art#Yakut#dragon
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study methods
the second brain method
this method focuses on organizing the information you learn to maximize effectiveness. a common way of doing this is through the CODE method:
capture - be quick and efficient in how you receive the information
organize - organize the information in a way that works for you
distill - break the information down to its key elements
express - apply the information you’ve learned
* there is a ton of information out there about this method. if you struggle with burnout and knowing where to start, i recommend researching this method further to figure out what works for you.
the pomodoro method
the pomodoro method is a time management method. the most common expression of this method is to pick a task, work for 25 minutes on that task, then take a break for 5 minutes. then, repeat. if you’re planning to work all day, you may up the time spent studying. for example, after a while of this, you may work for 30 minutes at a time, then 40, then 45, and so forth. this method is particularly good for when you’re feeling unmotivated or having a hard time focusing. if you’re still not feeling it after a while, you may start to take longer breaks. for example, you may study for 30 minutes, break for 15, and keep going like that.
the 5 minute rule method
this method is good for when you have to do a shorter task, but you’re procrastinating doing it. this method requires you to dedicate only 5 minutes to do your task. after that, you may stop, but chances are, once you’ve started, finishing won’t be as difficult.
the blurting method
this method is particularly good for revision. the blurting method requires you to read over the content you are learning, then put it away and write down everything you know or can remember. then, check the content and revise everything you didn’t write down.
spaced repetition
spaced repetition requires you to spread out your study reviews over the period of a few days. this has been shown to improve memory. rather than studying one thing at a time, then studying something else the next day and so on, review the information right after you’ve learned it, then recall it after a few hours, then a few days, then a few weeks, and so on. if you’re studying something you will need to remember for an extended period of time, this method would be perfect for you!
active recall
this is my absolute favorite method! it’s been shown to improve your studying immensely and so many people have benefited from practicing active recall. active recall involves retrieving information from your brain, usually done through questions. a good way to do this is to explain the concept to yourself, to someone else, or act like you’re doing a presentation on the subject. after you’ve recalled all of the information you know about the subject, go over your material again and be sure you covered everything and explained everything the best way you could. if you didn’t, review everything you did not remember or got wrong, and go again. do this until you get everything. doing this can also be referred to as the feynman technique.
the SQ3r method
survey - skim your text and identify bolded text, headers, images, etc.
question - generate questions about the text based on what you surveyed. what are the key concepts in this text? what is each paragraph about? what information do i need to take away from this text?
read - read through the entire text and answer the questions you created
recite - summarize what you learned in your own words
review - recall the key concepts and answers to your questions
#girlblog#girlblogger#dream girl#girlblogging#that girl#self care#self love#glow up#it girl#becoming that girl#self development#self improvement#study#study tips#study blog#studyspo#study aesthetic#studyblr#study motivation#studyinspo#motivation#productivity#school#romanticizing school#academic validation#academia#pink academia#pink#academia aesthetic#light academia
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