#hes got such exaggerated facial expressions

[icantbelieveitsnotbutler]

Sebastian's Facial Expressions in Chapter 138

Manga spoilers.

Sebastian's thoughts/feelings in any given scene are difficult to figure out because his non-human emotions are being conveyed by a human face. Chapter 138 in particular is complicated by the fact that he has only just taken this form and has yet to adjust to his new life as an unobtrusive servant.

Our best insight into Sebastian's emotions is the series of facial expression exercises Toboso did, one of which I already made a post about.

The expressions most relevant to chapter 138 are the following:

Number 15, which was 営業スマイル, "business smile." This is basically his customer-service smile, meant to placate and disarm customers, guests, and masters.

Number 16 was 興奮, "excited." We see this or something like it whenever Sebastian gets to behave like a beast.

Number 20 was 無表情, "expressionless." Akumadeenglish, the Tumblr user who compiled and translated these now deleted posts, translated the caption for this image as "If he faces things he isn’t interested in, he becomes dispassionate." So when we see this blank expression, we know Sebastian is uninterested in whatever he's looking at.

In the contract-formation scene in Chapter 138, before Sebastian takes his human form, we only see parts of his demon face.

This expression doesn't have an exact match in Toboso's sketches because she only sketched Sebastian's expressions. Sebastian is the human butler; this is the face of the demon that will become Sebastian. This demon's expressions aren't limited by servile propriety and human facial anatomy. But if you compare the demon's expression to Toboso's sketches, you'll find that it's actually an exaggerated version of number 16 (excited). Wide-eyed and smiling hugely, the demon is excited to meet his new plaything.

After taking his human form, he doesn't immediately become the well-mannered butler Ciel trains him to be. Besides his nasty attitude, this can also be seen in his Cheshire-cat grin.

This expression doesn't show up outside of the contract negotiation scene. However, toned-down versions appear whenever Sebastian is being particularly nasty.

These don't seem to be any particular one of the sketched expressions, but might be combinations of his expressions for excited, pleasure, happy, and enjoyment.

When the negotiations begin, Sebastian hides this nasty face behind his customer-service smile. However, when Ciel brings up the possibility of bringing his brother back to life, this expression suddenly drops.

Without Toboso's expression exercises, we could only guess at what is behind the blank expression. But with the sketch, we know that this absence of emotion means Sebastian has lost interest. The excitement of a new contractor is immediately extinguished because Ciel has shown that he's the same boring type of master that's given Sebastian the demonic-equivalent of an eating disorder.

But then Ciel reveals that he was just testing Sebastian, and the excitement, pleasure, and interest are back.

More importantly, this is the first time, but definitely not the last, that Ciel will surprise Sebastian. During the next 3+ years, Sebastian will continually think he's got his master figured out, only to be astonished by his endless facets.

[roe-and-memory]

i feel like theres no picture of sheriff where he doesnt look goofy as hell .

1. who kicked his puppy why does he look so SAD.

2. relaxed. unbothered. having the time of his life. not a care in the world.

3. practice mugshot when he got a new camera

4. ⁉️

[doctor-vertigo]

Simping for this guy again [bangs my fist against the desk and starts sobbing uncontrollably]

The second image is a reference to this iconic image, I’m sure people have already drawn this with him and better but yk

[hoshifighting]

the sex ''ick's'' seventeen would give

WARNINGS: it's just for fun, and it doesn't match what the members do out there—so if you don't like, dont read.

seungcheol: his damn ass clapping louder than anything else in the room. like, the rhythm is giving standing ovation, and he’s completely unaware. if you dare mention it, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear.

jeonghan: he’d spend the whole day teasing you, promising he’s gonna ruin you later, only to nut in two minutes flat or tap out ‘cause his arms are tired “ugh, it’s so hot in here,” or “my legs are cramping.”

joshua: crying after nutting. he’s suddenly sniffling, you even got startled on the first time, his body getting REALLY sensitve.

junhui: he’ll mirror your moans, badly. you moan? he mimics it, but it sounds like a parody. like, he thinks he’s harmonizing, but it’s straight-up cringe. you try to ignore it, but he just keeps going.

hoshi: fucking u fully naked, except for his damn stoompas (those ugly-ass luxury brand chunky shoes). “they give me grip,” he’d say, like he’s at a crossfit competition, not blowing your back out. the sight of those big-ass sneakers ruins the vibe every time. (illustrative photos)

wonwoo: absolutely no facial expressions. man could be balls deep in you, and his face is blank, like he’s doing math in his head. but in fact, he's just daydreaming.

woozi: soundtrack enthusiast. he’d insist on playing a playlist he made just for you, but it’s all anime OSTs. like, nothing kills the vibe faster than hearing some intense battle music while he’s thrusting.

minghao: if you’re on top, he’d start giving unsolicited feedback. “tilt your hips a little more—yeah, like that. now, slower.” thinks he’s teaching a masterclass while you’re just trying to survive on his cock.

mingyu: checking himself out mid-thrust. fixing his hair in the mirror. if you call him out with a “are you fucking me or yourself?” he’d blush “n-no, I’m focusing on you!”

seokmin: laughs during the dirtiest parts, like a full belly laugh because he’s nervous or thinks something’s funny. he just goes, “HAHAHA—ah! sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” it’s cute tho...

seungkwan: every little thing is exaggerated—he’s gasping like he’s in a soap opera, grabbing his chest like he’s about to faint. you move slightly? “oh my god, I’m gonna DIE babe!”

vernon: won’t take off his adidas tracksuit. every damn time, it’s on—jacket unzipped, pants pushed down, and he’s acting like this is perfectly normal. while you're getting dizzy almost, from the adidas long lines, and from seeing this tracksuit for the zillionth time this month. [im feeling it too personally bc my dad uses tracksuit's often 😭]

chan: overexplaining everything he’s doing. like, “okay, so now I’m gonna flip you over, and then I’ll go deeper, and—”

[slytherinshua]

ᜃ　SOFT LIPS, FLUSHED FACE　( 오시온 )

genre fluff , established relationship , sion x fem!reader   cw making out (not rly suggestive tho) , not proofread , ending is prob shit   wc 610   request for my pookie @blue-jisungs   note whipped sion agenda AND ALSO SHY SION AGENDA. he's too charismatic on stage we forget this man is soooo shy   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

Your boyfriend had always been clingy. Whether it was with you or any of the boys, it didn’t matter. Physical touch was Sion’s love language, and he seemed to have infinite amounts of it to give. Especially to you.

“Why are you pouting again?” you asked, focused completely on the book you were reading. You didn’t even need to glance in his direction to see his facial expression resembling that of a sad puppy. Whenever your boyfriend got uncharacteristically quiet, you knew he was pouting.

“You stopped kissing me.”

“For two seconds while I finish my chapter,” you reminded him, flipping the page. There were only three paragraphs left. He could wait. 

“Hurry up,” he complained, resting his head on your shoulder, eyes dropping down to skim the words on the page. He never understood why you always read romance books when he was right in front of you. Thirty seconds felt like hours to Sion, but when you finally moved your bookmark to the page, his eyes lit up. You didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise before the book was knocked out of the way, and Sion’s hand turned your head towards him for his long-awaited kiss. 

Long-awaited was an exaggeration, but there was rarely a day that your boyfriend wasn’t a little dramatic. That didn’t matter now, though, as you tasted his lips again, eyes falling closed naturally. Now determined to give your boyfriend exactly what he wanted, you pushed his shoulder back, lips still interlocked, until he rested against the headboard of the bed. 

Hands squeezing his shoulder, you finally pulled back from the kiss, slightly breathless. Sion’s eyes followed you, a slight smirk on his face, and yearning eyes longing for more. You smiled at him, pushing back some of his hair and cupping his cheeks. One hand traced his jawline, finger catching under his chin to lift it up. His soft eyes stared at yours, cheeks starting to flush under your touch. You only giggled at how cute he was, placing a few quick kisses to the beauty marks and freckles on his face. 

Sion’s eyes fluttered closed, soft giggles escaping his lips as your feather-light touch slightly tickled his face. He simply adored moments like this. When he was the focus of all your attention; when the world seemed to fade away, and it was just you two drowning in the love you shared. 

It wasn’t long before your lips found his again, gently dancing in tandem with the other. Soft lips and warm tongue falling into each other. Sion’s hands wandered to your waist, pulling you closer. You felt like you could stay like this forever, the taste of Sion’s lips and the warmth of his flushed skin under your body addicting you more every time you kissed him. 

Sion was the first to separate, breathless but still holding you close. There was a moment of silence before you both broke out in giggles. You fell completely into Sion’s hold, no longer trying to keep your head up as you nuzzled into his neck. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you ever close, as if even a single inch of space between you and him would end the world. 

“I love you so much,” you mumbled. The palm you rested on his chest allowed you to feel his heartbeat, still racing slightly. 

“I know.” Sion smiled, all the warm feelings of love swirling in his chest at the sound of your voice. 

“Thought I should tell you more often,” you whispered quietly, an equally big smile on your face as you snuggled closer to him. 

“I love you too.”

nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,, @haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,, @lilly-cherry7,, @kpopandbookschild,, @taroddori,, @lexeees,, @voikiraz,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @yvshi,, @nicholasluvbot

[propertyofwicked]

"it'll grow back" - LN

v short. just expressing my sadness for the loss of beard lando </3 it's been a rough day lads

tried a little bit of social media au stuff so lemme know if that works <3

“hey ba-”

“you are in so much trouble,” you announce as he picks up the phone, pacing around the airport waiting for your layover flight to join him in australia.

“wha-? why?” lando says, his voice wavering slightly in panic, trying to remember everything he’d done in the last 24 hours that could anger you.

“how could you? how could you shave before i got to say a proper goodbye?” you whine down the phone, exaggerating your sadness at the loss of his facial hair.

“im sorry ba-”

“no i dont wanna hear it. firstly - i had to find out through twitter! AND my flight lands in 5 hours - you couldn’t wait till then?”

“if i waited you would’ve talked me out of it!” he argues back in jest.

“precisely!” you argue, the phone line falling silent, asides from max laughing in the background, and lando clearly trying to stifle his own giggles.

“max you’re a traitor! you promised me you would stop him,” you say, knowing he can hear you. max says nothing in response, just continues to laugh until he’s wheezing.

the announcement of your flight boarding was probably well timed, alerting you that you need to leave before the argument get serious.

“get on your flight angel, ill be at the airport to pick you up when you land.”

“you better be, you owe me.”

-

when you finally spot him in the airport, your pace quickens to meet him and his embrace. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms moving to rest on and behind your shoulders. your head rolls backwards slightly to look up at him, as sigh escaping your lips when you see the lack of facial hair in person.

“12 seconds!” max exclaims from behind him, holding up his phone timer, “it took you 12 seconds to make a remark about him shaving!”

“hey! i didn’t even say anything,” you argue back.

"debatable."

“it’s ok y/n - it’ll grow back,” lando says, grinning at you before looking down and kissing your lips. the lack of scruff touching your face is unfamiliar.

“but now it feels like i’m kissing a 13 year old boy.” max snorts at your response, lando just keeps smiling down at you.

“when did you last eat?” lando asks, moving the conversation along, as he grabs your suitcase and starts walking to the car, you and max stood either side of him.

“erm, on the first flight - so i don’t know but i am starving.”

“let’s go get you some dinner. i’ll pay, call it an apology.”

“lan, you’d insist on paying whether i was owed an apology or not,” you retort, moving to sit in the car.

“i’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, smirking at you. you had almost forgotten max was there till he started making fake vomit noises at lando’s comment.

“i’d love to see you try.”

[maomao-words]

Can I request where windbreaker boys got jealous over s/o (us) like simping over fictional characters, I wanna see their reaction getting sulking or jealous 8(>_<)8

Not me exposing my own list of hubbies in these headcannons /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\

I hope your tastes match mine, and you enjoy!

No TWs. Fluff with some crack sprinkled around.

Wind Breaker: How the boys react to you simping over fictional characters (Sakura, Kiryu, Endo).

Haruka Sakura:

No. Sakura does not get jealous over fictional men.

He does not sulk, lower lip jutted in the most adorable of pouts, whenever you joyfully yell each time Satoru Gojo comes up on screen. He definitely does not clench his jaw each time you delve into an unstoppable tirade over how strong the white-haired sorcerer is, how attractive his hands are, and how beautiful his blue eyes look.

Sakura absolutely does not try to distract you by holding onto your waist, as shyly as his nerves allow him to, and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

The fact that these moments of affection from Sakura coincide with Gojo's training scenes has nothing to do with your boyfriend. Or so he claims, voice close to a whisper, and eyes avoiding yours as much as possible.

Each time you catch Sakura frowning at your phone's home screen, which is evenly split between a fanart of Gojo's fingers held in his signature move and a candid picture taken of you both during one of your latest dates, you would simply laugh at his facial expressions.

How adorable, you would say, as you gently cup his cheeks and peck him once, then twice, and thrice. Once Sakura busies himself with hiding his blushing face, you turn around, resuming your dive into Tumblr for more posts about your fictional hubby.

Provoking your lovely boyfriend's jealousy is easy. But a soft smooch accompanied by your prettiest smile never fails to melt his icy facade, rendering him unable to leave your side, while you continue admiring Gojo's beautiful features on screen. Little did Sakura know that your favorite sorcerer shares almost all of his own traits. Starting from the feathery white hair, the gem-like eyes, to the incomparable strength and dominance, Sakura does not stray far from Gojo, which is what made him appeal to your eyes in the first place.

But, hush now. With how adorable Sakura behaves, you do not wish to divulge this secret to him.

Oh, and if you notice Sakura smiling once you mention the end of the JJK manga, you do not go down quietly. Needless to say that your lovely boyfriend had to spend the rest of the week sleeping on the couch, alone and grumbling about how unfair you were acting.

Kiryu Mitsuki:

Yes. Kiryu is jealous that you have eyes for no one but Rafayel from LADS.

Actually, scratch that, dearest. Hell fucking yes, Kiryu is beyond jealous that your main husband is a rich, attractive, and highly bewitching merman, whose voice seems to be the only way for you to relax as you fall asleep at night.

"Noo, keep your eyes on me, cutie," Kiryu cooes at you with a voice sweeter than honeyed cakes, his hand cupping your face and guiding it away from the latest trailer featuring Rafayel.

You pout at your boyfriend's ridiculous attempts and gently swat at his hand to focus all of your attention on the phone in your hand. Kiryu gasps, an exaggerated sound colored with indignation and shock, before he moves in one smooth move to smother you with his entire body.

You gasp, phone clattering on the floor away from you at the sudden jolt, while you struggle to handle your boyfriend's weight on you. Nothing was new about Kiryu's behavior. Each time Rafayel comes up on your screen or tongue, talking about a new banner, showing him a work of fiction you recently read, or an amazing fan art you spotted, Kiryu's affection would spill over.

His touches, already consistent and plentiful, double in intensity and frequency. A hand on the small of your back to guide you away from your friedn's collective fangirling over Rafayel, long fingers gently tapping over your arm to distract you from staring at your fictinal's husband lethal face, or in extreme cases, tight hugs that envelop your entire figure before he swallows your protests with a tender kiss that takes your breath away in a heartbeat.

Your foolish boyfriend never stopped to wonder why you picked Rafayel out of everyone else. He never seemed to connect the dots; a rich man, with pink hues and angelic shades, and hands that are impossibly gentle to you. Each one of Rafayel's features, traits, and "cutie" never fails to bring Kiryu's face to mind.

But seeing Kiryu's dramatic pouts, hearing his near-teary complaints, and enjoying his tender embraces, you simply couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. So, each time he complains, you pretend to sigh and think long and hard, before you loop your hands around your beloved's neck to pull him closer to you.

Oh, and if anyone ends up finally asking, you end up revealing that it's always Kiryu offering his own card and encouraging you to spend as much money as you want to bring your merman home.

Endo Yamato:

Endo's first reaction to seeing your phone's home screen, on the afternoon of your second date, was a loud laugh that nearly caused you both to be kicked out of the coffee shop. His arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, the other lazily slung across the back of your chair, as you pulled your phone and unlocked it to show him the cute dress you bought the day before.

But the minute Endo's green eyes landed on the now-unlocked screen, his body moved without hesitation, and he doubled over in laughter. After facing your wrath (a weak punch to his arm), Endo was finally lucid enough to ask the burning question on his tongue: is that a fucking clown?

That question ended up costing him a third date with you.

Because no, Hisoka Morow is not a clown. Well, when it comes to pure technicalities, he is one, but he is your favorite in the HunterxHunter world, and you refused to sit by and watch anyone make fun of him.

Endo never understood your obsession with Hisoka, but he never really felt gracious enough to stop making his typical comments to you. Relentless in his teasing, Endo's affectionate bullying extended to the small charms attached to your keys, the stickers on the back of your laptop, the lavender hoodie with Hisoka's figure on the front, and even your tiny notebook decorated in the magician's palette.

You pouted, shut him up using kisses, and laughed alongside Endo's teasing attempts. You were firm in your attachment to Hisoka, and Endo's playful attitude suited you just fine, as long as you were left to your own devices, free to love what you loved.

Yet somehow, along the way, you noticed a subtle change. Each time Endo caught you tearing up over the seemingly endless hiatus of the HXH manga, fangirling over the latest official art of your hubby, or rewatching the anime from start to finish, he would sweep you in an embrace that never failed to take your breath away.

Whenever your friends called and spent hours fangirling over the entire cast, Endo became glued to your side on the couch. With both arms wrapped around you, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, he would distract you from the conversation with his own whispers and comments. Laughing each time you swat at him in annoyance, Endo would only tighten his hold on you.

Your joy was indescribable the day Endo half-admitted he felt jealous of how much affection and attention you were pouring over that clown. You snorted, face flushing with the exertion of hiding your laughter, while Endo remained impassive by your side. You came closer to your lover, lips drawn in a soft smile, as you cupped his cheeks with your hands. Soft promises that confirmed your endless love for your boyfriend, and assurances that Hisoka's presence will never overshadow his own, were finally enough to return the lopsided smirk on Endo's face.

A smirk that disappeared as soon as it had appeared, however. Endo ended up sleeping on the couch that night for daring to call your hubby a clown. Again.

[slut4megantheestallion]

Coryxkenshin & Berleezy as your boyfriends Headcannons (separately)

⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢

Summary: coryxkenshin x reader, berleezy x reader, fluff, black!reader, relationship headcanons.

Coryxkenshin as your boyfriend

●The ultimate protector boyfriend. Cory takes his role as your man very seriously, always making sure you're safe, comfortable, and happy. If y'all walking outside at night? He's on high alert. If you're scared while watching a horror movie? His arm is already around you.

●He loves making you laugh. This man will do literally anything to hear you laugh - even if it means embarrassing himself, a corny joke,a goofy dance, or throwing out the most ridiculous jokes. If you're having a bad day? He's already pulling up with snacks and a skit- ready performance. "My love, my queen, my everything - why the long face? I'm here to vanquish all sadness!"

●Gaming nights are a must. Y'all will stay up late playing horror games together, both screaming at the screen when something pops out. If you get scared, he's laughing his ass off but also lowkey protective. "AYO, NAH! That thing was moving weird - babe, get behind me, we are fighting pixels tonight."

●He loves cuddling but won't admit it outright. If you sit next to him, he'll act like he doesn't care at first, but slowly, you'll notices his arm moving around you, his head resting against yours. If you call him out, he's all like, "Pfft, you wish I was cuddling you - pssh. Anyways, don't move. This is comfortable."

●The type to send you random texts like:

●"Babe, if we were in a horror movie, I'd definitely survive."

●"I just saw someone who kinds looks like you... but uglier. You still the finest, though."

●"You ate today? I swear if you say no..."

●Super respectful & a gentleman. He'll open doors for you, hype you up constantly, and make sure you always feel appreciated. If you're having a rough day, he's quick to remind you, "Ayo, don't even trip - do you know who you are? You're a whole legend. No one can match your energy."

●Loves watching anime with you. Expect long nights binge-watching classics, him dramatically narrating fight scenes, and yelling at the screen when a character makes a dumb decision. "SEE, THIS IS WHY HE GOT DROPPED! WHY WOULD YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON THE VILLIAN?!"

●If he ever pranks you, best believe you're getting revenge. He'll set up a jump scare prank, but when you flip the script on him, he's screaming louder than you did. "Nah, that wasn't funny - okay, it was, but still, we even now."

●Loves hyping you up in front of people. You could be chilling, and suddenly, he's telling the whole world about how amazing you are. "Y'all see this person right here? Absolute GOAT. Cutest human alive. Y'all not on their level."

Berleezy as Your boyfriend

●A literal walking meme. Being with Berleezy means you're laughing 24/7. He's constantly cracking jokes, roasting people, in the game y'all are playing, and making the most exaggerated facial expressions when something wild happens. "Babe, did you SEE that? Bro, that was demonic."

●Gaming is a whole event. Whether it's a horror game or co-op games, y'all are both screaming at the screen, clowning on NPCs, and Berleezy is always overanalyzing the weirdest details. "WHY is this dude's head built like a microwave, though?"

●He hypes you up like crazy. No matter what you do - outfit? Fire. Cooking? Chef's kiss. Even if you do something basic, he's acting like you, just an award. "Yo, my girl just put milk before the cereal... lowkey, that's different. That's innovation." (He's playing but also 100% in love with everything you do).

●Cuddling is a whole experience. This man will drag you onto the couch, wrap his arms around you, and trap you there. If you try to move? "Nah, where you going? I need my emotional support, baby"

●LOVES roasting you but in the most loving way. If you say something goofy, best believe he's clowning you- but if anyone else tries? Oh yeah, it's over for them. "Only I can roast my baby, y'all better recognize."

●Text messages from him be wild.

●Nah, babe, lowkey if we were ever in a horror movie, you'd definitely trip first. Love you, though."

●"Babe, answer me this - if peanut butter is called peanut butter, why ain't it peanut jam?"

●"You ate today? Don't lie, I'm already outside with food."

●Lowkey romantic but in a chill way. He's not over the top with grand gestures, but he always makes sure you know how much he loves you. He'll pull you in randomly and kiss your forehead, saying, "Damn, I really got lucky with you."'

●Movie nights are full of dramatic commentary. If y'all watch a horror movie, he's yelling at the characters, throwing out theories, and making you laugh even when the scene is serious. "SEE, THIS WHY THEY GETTING GOT! WHY GO IN THE BASEMENT?!:

●If he pranks you, best believe you're getting revenge on his ass. He'll scare you with some crazy ass pranks, but the second you get him back, he's like. "Nah, you petty for that." But you know he respects the hustle.

●If you're having a bad day, he's the first person to lift your spirits. He'll talk you through it, make you laugh, and if he needs it, just hold you until you feel better. "Ayo, whatever's messing with your mood? Forget that. You're that person, you hear me?'

●Lowkey is jealous, but in a funny way. If someone's flirting with you, he'll be in the background making faces and mocking them under hid breath. Later, he'll be like, "Babe, I ain't worried, but like.... if he tries again, we boxing."

[secretlysamcro]

Part 1 | Part 2

Female reader x Jax Teller MAJOR SPOILERS!, & explicit language If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Jax walks with heavy steps, leading his best friend to his final ride. The rest of the club carry Opie in silence, their faces touched with grief. Jax’s face is unreadable but he hasn’t cried yet, he can’t. He just stares ahead, like if he lets himself blink, he might just fall apart.

Tara stands off to the side, her arms folded and eyes locked on Jax. There’s distance between them, has been for a while now but Jax still chooses to ignore it, brush it under the rug, act as if everything is okay, he knows why it feels like there's a brick wall between them though, and Tara? she suspects it, just hasn't had the guts to confront him yet. Either way, she has secrets of her own. Trying to protect the boys by any means necessary so the fact that Jax has been so distant recently only makes it that tiniest bit easier.

The boys lower the casket into the back of the hearse Jax’s eyes lingering on the black wooden box, just enough to feel like he was doing right by his best friend one last time. Then he slams the door shut. Hard and final, the echo hanging in the air of the lot.

Jax sits on the rooftop, silent and still watching as the hearse drives away.

The last goodbye.

Below him, the rest of the club gathers, exchanging quiet condolences. Hugs, nods, the occasional exaggerated back pat that says more than words ever could. Lyla sits beside Gemma, her shoulders shaking and her face buried in her hands. Gemma’s leant in close, whispering something he’s sure is suppose to soothe Lyla. Tara's standing away from the crowd, her facial expression tight. She’s muttering something to Unser, passing him some sort of paperwork, though Jax can’t quite work out what it is.

All he does know, is he doesn’t want to be down there. Doesn’t want that kind of comfort. Not from his Mom, his club or his wife. He pulls out a fresh writing pad from inside of his kutte, his last one placed with Opie in his casket. He lights a cigarette before pulling out a pen and starting to write. Because keeping these journals going? It’s the only thing keeping him sane.

"You good brother?" Chibs' voice snaps Jax out of his own head, stopping his pen mid sentence of his thoughts. He glances over his shoulder as the Scotsman approaches, tucking his little book back into his kutte.

"No" Jax mutters, his voice rough, the words weighing in his chest. He takes a long drag trying to keep it together, but he's finding it so fucking hard. He stops himself before he can say anything more, shaking it off. Chibs gives him a heavy slap on the back, the kind that says he's not alone, but he isn't going to press any further.

"You know we got this yeah?" Chibs growls, a promise laced within his words. "This pope shit? we got it handled. And those... assholes. Who did this to our boy? their time's comin".

Jax nods slowly, because he knows just as well as Chibs that those fuckers? dead. He climbs down the ladder, walking straight over to his old mans bike, pressing his hand to the tank for just a second before turning back towards the main clubhouse.

It's quieter inside, Gemma's already there, waiting. She steps out grabbing his wrist like she's trying to anchor him. "You okay baby?" she asks, her voice low and steady, like she already knows the answer, she's just trying to find the cracks. "Tara's looking for you" she adds like she’s trying to test the water. She feels it too. The way him and Tara are different now, how she’s so focused on work and those boys she has little attention left on Jax. She feels it, but hasn’t said anything, yet.

Jax pulls his arms back gently, brushing back the sweat from his head as he tilts it slightly “Where is she?” He questions reluctantly.

It’s been just over two months since that night Jax walked out of your apartment, and still as much as he twisted your entire soul, as much as you know it was messy, toxic and wrong. You can’t get him out of your fucking head.

‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new’ your bestie told you with a smirk, zero remorse in her words and they’ve been playing on a loop in your head ever since. So tonight, you finally took her advice.

You’re sitting across from some guy you barely know in a dimly lit restaurant somewhere just outside of Charming. The candlelight flickering against your wine glass. You’re dressed to distract, body hugging outfit and matching heels that force you to strut. You’d forgotten what it felt like to get dolled up for someone, actually make an effort. And the guy? He’s not bad. He’s actually kinda cute. Tall, clean cut, good manners. He holds the door open, laughs at your sarcasm and keeps the conversation flowing.

You didn’t expect to enjoy yourself tonight, you thought you’d sit here dwelling on everything that’s been happening. But here you are, smiling, laughing, letting someone else have your complete attention. But no matter how good this guy smells, he doesn’t smell like leather and cigarettes. He doesn’t look at you like he wants to ruin you, and he doesn’t carry that chaos in his eyes, the sort of chaos that you had come accustomed to.

You return to the table after slipping away to the restroom, smoothing down your dress before sliding back into your seat. The bottom rising up just slightly but you don’t bother to adjust it, your dates already watching you like you’re the only woman in the restaurant.

“Your phone hasn’t stopped going off” he says, nodding towards your purse. Not in a suspicious or angry way, just letting you know.

“Oh, really?” You murmur, reaching for your bag with a raised brow and pulling your phone out. The second you see the name on the screen, your heart gives a traitorous thud. Because of course, the one time you finally weren’t thinking about him, he sure as hell was thinking about you. You skim through the texts quickly, and yeah he sounds fucked. Wrecked, even. Your stomach sinks instantly, the words hitting different. Not calculated or trying to get under your skin, just lost.

But you've been here before, and every time you've paid for it in ways he'll never understand. So even though part of you wants to reply, wants to know what the fucks wrong, you lock it without responding. You tuck your phone back into your bag, sitting up a little straighter and smile at your date, like you're not cracking under the hem of your tight dress.

His car eases up to a stop outside your building. Your mind is anywhere else but here. You hadn't answered the texts, haven't even re read them, tried to push Jax to the back of your mind, and focus on yourself for once. Your date looks over to you, his hand resting lightly on your thigh, waiting for some kind of cue. He's been nothing but respectful all night. Easy conversation, soft touches and gentle smiles.

The way his grip tightens snaps you out of your thoughts. "You wanna come up?" maybe you ask out of loneliness, maybe spite or maybe you just wanna feel something that wasn't this.

The question hangs in the space between you both, he raises his brow slightly, almost surprised at the question "Is that what you want?" he questions, keeping his eyes on you as you leave the car, he follows shortly circling around to meet you at your side. You don't answer with words, instead you lean in to him, kissing him. And when he kisses you back, you smile into it.

Down the street, Jax is sat slouched in the drivers seat of his car, hood up and a cigarette burning between his fingers, half forgotten. He hadn't told anyone where he was going after the wake, he couldn’t. The minute he had a moment alone, away from the club, away from Tara, he slipped out without a word.

And drove here, to you.

No plan, just basic instinct. What he didn’t expect, was to see another man's car parked out front. To see you slide out of the passenger seat, laughing softly and then leaning in to kiss someone who wasn't him. He watched as you lead him in to your building, his hands clenched around the steering wheel, watching with those dark eyes, his stomach twisting with pure fucking jealousy.

But he pushes it down, because he knows he has no right to be angry, you were never his, not really. You fucked behind closed doors, behind his marriage, behind his club and behind all the lines he swore he wouldn't cross but did anyway. But the idea of someone else being in your bed, touching you in ways only he used to, hearing how you sound when you come undone makes him want to fucking snap. Still, he didn't move. He told himself he'd wait, wait until the guy left, even if it took all night, because he needed to see you. He didn’t deserve to, and he knows that, but he needed to anyway.

You let your date undress you with slow hands and soft kisses, the kind of intimacy that's more about escape than connection. No wild passion, no urgency just movement. Its the first time you've done this with someone who wasn’t Jax. Maybe that’s why it feels so strange. Not wrong, just...different. Unbeknownst to you, just a few floors below, Jax is stewing in the drivers seat, the cigarette long burned out, grief sitting heavy in his chest, alongside rage and something uglier, maybe betrayal, confusion or even guilt.

Back inside, you try to stay in the moment, focusing on the weight of another mans hands, the rhythm, the sounds filling the room, but your mind keeps drifting back to the nights laced in leather and danger. To the low sound of Jax's voice in your ear, the way he used to hold your wrists down in place like he knew exactly what you needed before you could even ask. And no matter how hard you tried to shake it, it was him that your body craved.

Eventually, you just wanted it to be over. You arched your back, gasped in all the right places and gave your best impression of something only Jax had ever been able to pull from you. And your date, he didn't notice, didn't ask, just finished alongside you.

Jax perks up the second he sees movement from your building entrance. He sits forward, eyes narrowing as the guy you went up with, now returns. His hair messy, shirt half buttoned and still adjusting his belt. The sight makes his jaw clench and his chest tight. He watches as the guy strolls casually towards his car completely unaware of the eyes on him. Only once he was out of sight did Jax move, shoving the car door open and doing a light jog across the street. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say once he gets to you, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he had to see you.

The sound of the door buzzing pulls you from your spiralling thoughts. You were still in nothing but your favorite oversized tee. Skin warm, face still flushed from earlier. Part of you wishing you left your date downstairs. Wishing you hadn’t tried to chase comfort in something that only left you feeling… even emptier.

You step towards the door with a sigh, pulling your tee down just a little as the intercom buzzes again. “Great…not only is the sex boring but he’s a forgetful bastard too” you mutter under your breath, picturing your date coming back for whatever it was he couldn’t keep track of. You swing the door open, fully expecting to see him standing there.

But it’s not him.

His eyes are red and tear streaked. He wasn’t even trying to hold it together. This isn’t the Jax you’re used to. Even the last time he had been here, frustrated, torn and full of guilt, he didn’t look like this.

This was something else entirely. “Jax…” your voice cracks a little, quiet and careful “…what’s wrong?”

He opens his mouth like he had the words, like he wanted to say something. But nothing comes out. His lips tremble as his throat tightens. And then, still without a word, he braces his arm against the door frame, and begins sobbing into it. His shoulders heaving like everything just snapped all at once.

“Come here” you say softly, guiding him to the couch. He doesn’t resist, but still doesn’t speak. You sit him down, moulding himself into the sofa as you sit beside him, close, but not touching. Giving him the space he needs to fall apart.

Your chest also tightens at the sight of him. You fucking hate seeing him like this. This isn’t Jax, he doesn’t cry for no reason, he doesn’t do this for attention, he doesn’t do this at all. He’s hurting, and you can tell. But no matter how much time has passed, no matter what fucking bullshit he’s dragged you into, you know pain when you see it, and it’s written all over him.

And for a while, he doesn’t say a thing. Just sits there, his hands clasped and his eyes fixed on the floor like he’s looking for the right thing to say.

Eventually though, he drags his hands along his face as he lifts his head slowly “Op…Opies dead”.

You never knew Opie, but you didn’t need to. You knew enough from the way Jax spoke about him, that rare softness in his voice when he did. The stories, the loyalty and the bond than ran deeper than blood. Opie wasn’t just a friend, he was his brother, his constant.

And now? He’s gone, which makes perfect sense as to why Jax looks like he’s one second from a complete fucking breakdown.

“Jax…I’m so sorry” you say quietly but genuinely. Because you are sorry. You hesitate a second before reaching out, your hand settling on his knee. It’s the first time you’ve touched him in months and you can feel the shift in his body immediately. How it eases under your touch. Enough to remind you that even after all this time, he still finds comfort in you, whether you want him to or not.

“We just said our goodbyes…” he whispers, “…had a little wake at the clubhouse…I, fuck. I feel like I’m gonna….” his knee bounces beneath your hand, and you can feel it, how close he is to breaking.

His voice cracking and his breathing becoming uneven. “He was my moral compass” he chokes out “I went to him with shit I couldn’t say to anyone else, not the club… not T…” He adjusts his position now, taking in a deep breath, his way of pushing the emotions back down.

“Sorry for showing up here, messing with whatever shit you had going on” his jaw ticks, the thought of you with another man, but he continues.

“We were inside Stockton…” he begins telling you what happened, the short version, the version he has to tell to people who aren’t part of the club. “…workin’ somethin', with a guy, carries weight, big name and money. Thought he would get us out of this shit we’ve been buried in” He stops, his jaw flexing as he adjusts his position on the sofa “he wasn’t suppose to be there. Got himself arrested to be inside with us” he holds his chin in his hands, deep in thought.

“There was a pipe in the other room, made us choose. One of us wasn’t getting out” his lip trembles, like he’s reliving it all again. “They beat him to death right in front of me” he says it like it’s still happening, like he can still see it, still hear it. “I couldn’t fuckin’ stop it” the tears flow again.

You don't say anything, not with words anyway. You just place your hand over his, gentle but still unsure. His hand is cold, but you squeeze, just enough for him to feel it. Just enough to say you still care. You pull away your hand before he can react, walking towards the kitchen.

There's an aching throb in your chest that wont go away. The kind that comes when you've used your body for the wrong reasons, when you've given someone else part of you, that deep down you know you only want one other man to receive.

The Jameson is right where you left it, the bottle that only ever gets touched when Jax Teller is around. You hate the stuff, usually. But tonight, things are different. You grab two glasses, bringing them back and setting them on the table. Jax doesn't say anything but his eyes flick to the bottle, then the glasses, finally landing back on you. He watches as you pour, heavy handed and unapologetically. The silence is loud now, heavier and sadder.

"Not like you" he mutters, nodding towards the bottle on the table, the faintest smile finally tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's not much, but its something.

You glance down at the glass in your hand, giving a half hearted shrug "Yeah, well...been doing a lotta shit that's not like me lately" You swirl the last of your drink.

You've both been talking for a while now, both looser, the edge worn down by the alcohol. The tension softening under the weight of everything you've been through in the last hour, or maybe the last two months. He hasn't said anything in a while, just sitting there, his eyes glazed over, watching you a little too hard. Then his voice cuts through the quite.

"Last time I was here..." he pauses, like he's unsure whether he should continue "...I told you I couldn't leave Tara or my boys"

You shake your head immediately "Don't..." you mutter, "...you're not here to talk about that"

"I meant it" he says, ignoring your warning "I still mean it"

You exhale sharp through your nose, your patience wearing thin and the whiskey running low.

"I'm not tryna reopen shit y/n...I just need you to know why I said that" he turns to look at you, his jaw clenched tight. "Tara's got ties" he sighs "Legal ones, she's a doctor. She's clean, smart...I'm a patched up criminal with a club full of felons" he lets out a humourless laugh "If she wanted to take those boys from me..." he trails off, looking away "she could…most days we don't even speak. I come home, kiss the boys and count down how long till they're asleep. It's like we aint even pretendin' anymore"

You press your lips together, trying to keep your own emotions in check. "So why stay?" the words come out like a whisper, like part of you didn't actually want to ask out loud.

"Cause I'm scared if I dont... I'll lose em for good"

You understand what he's saying. You've always known what Jax carries on his back. His kids, the patch, his own demons. You're not heartless, and you'd never outright ask him to throw away his world for you. But still, it feels unfair. So you decide to drop something on the table, something to balance the scale.

"I slept with someone tonight"

He doesn't move at first, not even a twitch. But you see it, the way his jaw tenses, the way his grip around the glass tightens. His eyes don't meet yours, not yet. They hover over your bare thighs, then somewhere past you, like if he doesn't look at you, he won't feel it as much.

"Yeah?..." he says, he leans back on the couch, not saying anything else, not asking questions, just taking it all in. You wait for a reaction. Anger, jealousy, a stupid comment, but neither come. He's just silent. And that? that's worse, because Jax doesn’t do silence unless he's trying real hard not to say something he cant take back. Finally, he licks his bottom lip, letting out a breath "Did it work?" He arches a brow, the question written on his face.

"No" you say softly, almost embarrassed "thought it would though".

He nods slowly, like the confession eases something in him, or maybe it makes it worse, you can't tell.

"You fake it?" he asks, his mouth twitching at the edges, like he's trying not to smile.

You laugh under your breath, rolling your eyes. That's all he needs to know that you did. "He didn't even notice" you add, slightly proud but there's a flicker of something hollow in your eyes.

Jax tips back the rest of his Jameson, wincing as it goes down "Shit…" he mutters, setting his glass back on the table.

You both laugh, that worn out familiar kind of laugh. The kind that used to fill your apartment before love started creeping in through the cracks you both swore didnt exist.

"I came back so many times" he lets out, his thumb brushing over his jaw. Your head turns sharply, caught of guard. He's not looking at you though, he's staring at his empty glass like it might just judge him. "I'd be parked just down the street...engine still runnin, thinkin' about comin up, but I'd just...I'd just fuckin ride off"

You laugh again, this time its not so forced "Thought I was going crazy...I knew I heard your bike some nights"

"Yeah...that was me" Its quiet after he says that, not awkward or angry just the kind of silence that lingers when two people have said everything without really saying anything at all.

You hesitate before you ask, your fingers fidgeting with the rim of your glass, your eyes stealing glancing at him. "Can I ask you something?" you almost whisper, like you're afraid the question might break the moment. Jax's nod gives you the green light. "Did you ever...tell Opie...about us?"

He doesn't respond at first, stretching out the silence full of things you don't quite understand but you can definitely feel. "Yeah. I told him..." He finally breaks the silence, low and rough. "Told him I was seein' someone, that it wasn't clean, or simple. But it felt... right"

You don’t say anything, you just watch him, noticing the way his shoulders curl inward like he's trying to protect something. "He never judged me, but he didn't say much. He liked to let me figure out my own shit' but I could tell he knew I was tangled up in somethin' I'd struggle to walk away from" He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck "He knew me better than I ever knew myself"

You reach out without thinking, your hand brushing away the smallest trace of a tear "I’m glad you told him"

He nods again, slower this time. "Me too" he holds your hand against his face "He would've liked you". The words fall from his mouth naturally and somehow, that means more than you expected it to.

Tara sits at the kitchen table, the house is dead quiet. The kind of silence that forms a humming sound. There’s a glass of wine sitting next to her, untouched.

She tried looking for Jax after the wake had settled. Waited around the clubhouse until the sky turned dark. Checked the lot, the chapel, the garage, even drove to crematorium, hoping that maybe he just needed some space.

But he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Her phone rings, shaking her out of whatever day dream she was sat in. Unknown number. She hesitates, letting it ring once more before finally picking up. “Hello?”

“Tara Knowles?” The voice is calm, but a hint of sternness travels through it. “This is D.A Tyne Patterson. I believe you and I have some unfinished business”

Tara closes her eyes, inhaling sharply, the weight on her shoulders suddenly feeling heavier. “Why are you still calling me?” She asked but part of her already knows.

“You say you want out? You want to keep your boys safe? Then help me stop him before this war spreads further than Charming”

Tara says nothing for a long time. The air is thick and she can hear the clock ticking louder now. And then she speaks. “What do you need?”

“Everything” Patterson voice doesn’t change, the same sternness as before peeking through.

Tara nods, wiping a hand down her expressionless face but her heart splitting beneath the surface. “Okay”.

Photos & gifs do not belong to me 🐦‍⬛ Ugh. ngl I struggled with this one, it ended in so many different ways. I couldnt fucking think of a way Tara would just be like ok cool you're with someone new? Take the boys I’m off! bye see ya! so it got deep & as much as I LOVE angst I wasn’t even planning on them being in the same room again, BUT I acted on the vote that I took, and you all wanted to see them back together again, hehe. So will deffo be a 4th (& final) part but it’s gonna take me a while to weave that shit in. Also, I’ve got like 3 other things I’m in the process of writing which probably isn’t smart but that’s my brain for you lol.

Thank you all for the love & constant support. Honestly means so much, the comments, the likes, the reblogs, everything. This fandom, though small (in comparison to others) honestly, is the fucking best. Love you all 🫶🏽

xoxo secretly samcro

[spotsupstuff]

How do you make your drawings so expressive, especially in the facial expressions? I want to make my character drawings more expressive and I'm not really sure how to do so, so any advice on it, especially with expressions, would be very appreciated!

Great timing, right when I'm having a crisis about my abilities. -face in hands- I will Attempt to explain my processes around expressiveness to my best ability, however.

• What helps expressions quite a bit is asymmetry. I realized this some years ago, before I would be maticulously trying to achieve perfect symmetry.

One eye bigger than the other, adds to dynamicness of the expression, along with line of flow to the eyebrows.

• I'm fairly convinced even the smallest details can affect an expression.

• Lack of information is an expression, too.

Aka, leaving large amount of expression (if not whole) up to interpretation of the audience, but setting the general vibe by other means, OR using it as a set up for a funny reveal because lack of actually seeing the face gives it all an air of seriousness, usually.

• Imperfections and anatomical nonsensibility spawn their own specific feelings.

She has no business having that giant or small eyes, the mouth is too big, she doesn't have shark teeth like in the first picture, she doesn't have a tongue. He's got a mouth outside of the boundaries of his face. Those things help to say something, though.

Good example are also meme emoji drawings. These kinds have hyperspecific expressions, which is what sells them as memes, even if the reposter of the meme doesn't consciously picks up on it

• Posing, angles of camera, details within the anatomy, tiny adjustments within the facial features, add greatly.

To note here: slacked shoulders, different rotation of the torso, different angle of the torso (from below vs. more head on), neck squished by the shoulders vs stretched by the relaxation, mouth placed unrealistic more to the side vs placed more realistically and slightly open, eyes squinted on their bottom (flexing of the cheek muscles) vs relaxation [giving a more ,,In that moment, his expression fell", quite literally thanks to the relaxation], less extreme frown - the eyebrows are more leveled than arched - this gives more "concern" vibe than "anger" vibe.

-- example of posing:

-- example of angle:

In the case of characters with limited facial features (like Iterators, just eyes), one has to rely more on posing, anatomy details and angles. Exaggeration with both their lone facial feature and posing is a good idea, just gotta find the right balance between It and your desired weight of reality in the scene.

Outside aspects like the little anime expression signal thingies help out, too.

• And ofc also looking into animal behaviour to apply them to inhuman features boosts expressiveness.

Anatomical notes: jaw is hinged to the rest of the skull, meaning lowering it, moving it side to side and clenching it helps an expression come more alive.

Lips have their own volume, sticking them out from profile is Good. Shoulders are like another joint in arms- by which I mean the true root/anchor of an arm is more the point where clavicles connect to the sternum than the shoulder itself. They can be moved forwards and backwards. Moving them forwards for example boosts the feeling of curling in on self.

Here's an older compilation of Euros having a shit day for analyzation if you'd like.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser — Scream Blue Murder

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.6k TYPE: Break up & Make up, Humor primarily, Light Angst(??), Argument Resolution, Birthday and Christmas fic WARNING(S): None ?

Excitement is bubbling up inside of Ness’s whole being. Maybe this would be a dramatic sentiment coming from anyone else, but in his case it’s not an exaggeration.

The cause of this excitement is, to others, a given. But again in the circumstances of Ness’s upbringing, a Christmas celebration with actual people instead of a guilty ritual in his head is unique. Because of the overwhelming pseudo intellectualism permeating his childhood circumstances (which, while, yes, his parents are well educated scientists, and he can acknowledge their acuity to an extent, a lot of their conventions were in fact arbitrary and ridiculous), Christmas was banned in his home. Among other things.

It was very uncomfortable in hindsight and this choice led to potent social alienation among his peers, and might have even contributed to the isolation he suffered in adolescence.

There were times where, for example, before Christmas break, his class would do gift exchanges. He wasn’t allowed to participate and neither was he allowed to skip, so he had to sit there every year and endure the whole process of disappointing his Secret Santa buddy by not bringing anything — which is humiliating enough — and then carry the knowledge that he’ll have to throw out what he got later too, if found. And to be honest, Ness was the type of person who always ended up being found out by his parents.

He couldn’t even play pretend with his classmates in peace when he was in elementary school. Looking back on it, that has to be a little excessive.

But anyway. Bastard München Christmas day trip with teammates and Kaiser’s birthday all-in-one combo. Yay.

Of course, there was a choice to opt out and go back home to see family, which annoying people like Yoichi took because he presumably has a support system or whatever, but what’s important is that Kaiser is here with him on this day.

Ness doesn’t need much from Kaiser to be happy, he reassures himself, just breathing alongside each other is enough. The reason he’s pondering this to begin with is that Kaiser forbade him from even buying him a present (Ness wasn’t so optimistic to think he’d receive one, but he can’t even give?) — again, a little excessive, but isn’t everything in his life…

Since Kaiser went over to your place last night the last he heard from him, Ness is a little surprised to see you standing with your arms crossed near the bus, waiting by your lonesome. No Kaiser in sight. You look a bit grumpy and disheveled, too.

Ness decides not to think too much about it as all the attending teammates start showing up one by one.

Even Kaiser, who has trouble waking up in the morning, makes it before the designated time somehow. Though upon his arrival, much to Ness’s confusion he doesn’t look as impeccable as usual, plagued by puffy eyes and a red nose.

Is the cold being particularly unkind to him? Ness tries to explain the sight to himself.

The second oddity is that instead of joining your side like expected, he struts up to Ness and stands there. His posture is stiff and his facial expression more irritable than yours had been.

Is Kaiser choosing him over you? Is this the so-called Christmas miracle his parents didn’t believe in?

Trying to seem casual and not unhinged with ecstasy, Ness says, “Good morning, Kaiser.”

“Morning.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Kaiser replies in an ungrateful tone.

Well, he is not giving him much to work with, but all things in life come at a price. Ness doesn’t let Kaiser’s shitty attitude dampen his spirits. If such a thing were enough to ward him off, he supposes maybe he’d be in a better place, both mentally and in his career. But because he is who he is, he just lets his lips curl up in his usual turtle smile and stands there waiting to get on the bus, hands clasped behind his back as he gives off this vague aura of sparkling.

___

Kurona is sleepy.

It’s no good they decided to take off at five in the morning, but he can doze off on the bus, he supposes, and when he looked it up last night, it seemed that the drive would be long.

He is among the first to enter and sits down to dutifully wait for Hiori.

These plans are disrupted when you plop down next to him instead, but Kurona kind of doesn’t care enough to protest or ask you to move. You don’t talk with him much otherwise.

He assesses how comfortable the seat is while you untangle your earphone wires. It seems to give you a bit of trouble, but Kurona is too shy to offer his help, so he settles on staring at your movements deadpan.

Kaiser and Ness decide to take the seats in front, but he pays them no mind. Now that he thinks about it, shouldn’t you be sitting with Kaiser instead? He expects Kaiser to maybe make some catty remark about this transgression, yet it never comes.

Instead he peers at you from the crack between his seat and Ness’s in this unsettling sort of way. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, or at least Kurona thinks so, but maybe it’s his sleep deprived imagination. Besides, when is Kaiser not being creepy.

He crams his arm into the space somehow and puts up his middle finger.

You blink in surprise at first because of the sudden intrusion, then scowl and roll your eyes while Kaiser retrieves the offending arm and glares at you again.

“Stop making your rectal myopia everyone else’s problem,” you say as if this is some ongoing discussion and Kurona is catching you in the middle of a conversation. Which is kind of weird, since he’s pretty sure you and Kaiser haven’t spoken a single word to each other the entire morning prior to this.

“Oh yeah, and you’re The Virgin of Guadalupe,” says Kaiser with a hateful huff, before turning back around. Somehow he manages to put a lot of attitude into this motion.

Rectal myopia? The Virgin of Guadalupe?

Trouble in paradise for the couple. Tragedy, tragedy.

Despite the weirdness of what transpired, Kurona decides he doesn’t care and flutters his eyes closed without trouble. He dreams about riding a shark back to Japan.

___

The drive takes seven hours and less than thirty minutes, which according to the tour leader was ‘quick’.

Berlin seems greener and more cosmopolitan than Munich to Hiori, but then again he’s a nobody and he’s an expert in nothing, which he is also quite content with. The group makes it to the hotel they’ll be doing a one night stay in and there is scheduled rest time until some activities in a few hours.

Hiori is having to room with Kurona and Yukimiya, who decide to take it easy. In all honesty he’s a bit bored. His late nights staying up and playing online grant him immunity to this type of malaise, so he decides to go out and walk around by himself, possibly wander off outside even if it’s not the wisest choice.

This trek leads him down to the lobby, where he sees you having some long winded conversation with the receptionist. Though to her face you seem amicable and accepting of the outcome regarding whatever you were requesting, once you turn around so your back is on her, it’s obvious you are seething.

Out of boredom, Hiori approaches. Kind of gingerly as if skirting around a land mine. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“I got put in a room with Michael and Alexis.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

“No, it isn’t. I was asking them if I can pay to go somewhere else, but the girl said no.”

“Huh? Wait, why? Isn’t Kaiser your boyfriend? Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

“No, I'm not happy. He’s an ass, and he’s ungrateful, and he’s mean, and he looks like a mop. The first adult case of anencephaly, surely.”

Hiori blinks, continuing to smile with his insect eyes wide open and peering into your soul. “What?”

“It’s like a longer way of saying he doesn’t have a brain,” you explain in a rush. Then you wrap a scarf around your neck and move as if you’re about to leave the lobby.

“Going somewhere?”

“I will be back before the ‘activity’.”

“No power nap?”

“No.”

“D’ya wanna sleep with me, Yukimiya and Kurona in our room tonight? If you’re fighting with Kaiser and they ain’t letting you move.”

“I’ll think about it and tell you later, if you don’t mind.”

Hiori continues smiling, and sends you off with a smooth and somehow delicate wave of his hand.

___

Yukimiya is in a pleasant mood. Like, he’s not too happy, but he’s experiencing mild contentment. He’s also pretty sure Hiori is fucking with Kaiser on purpose, same deceptive and listless smile on his face as always. They’re kind of similar in that way.

They’ve gathered in a circle, the three of them because he doesn’t really get on with anyone else, waiting for everyone to arrive so they can head off to one of Berlin’s Christmas markets. Kurona is quiet as usual, not offering much to the conversation (though he doesn’t need to since his presence by itself is generally appreciated) while Hiori and Yukimiya talk. He’s not even sure Kurona is listening to be honest, but he wouldn’t blame him if he weren’t.

And Kaiser is glaring at the back of Hiori’s head.

“So they were asking to go to another room, but the receptionist refused, so I offered to let them stay with us. Y’all don’t mind, right?”

“No trouble, no trouble,” Kurona allows with a blank face and even tone, displaying his generosity.

Yeah, he’s definitely doing it on purpose. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been talking about it so much — Hiori must be getting a kick out of pissing Kaiser off. Yukimiya doesn’t believe for a second that he’s oblivious to the holes Kaiser’s staring into his head. Hiori is not stupid, and everyone can tell by now you and your boy toy have been having some kind of fight, and it’s obvious neither of you is happy about it despite clinging to the conflict.

Yukimiya closes his eyes and joins Hiori in on the blithe smiling ritual. Because he’s feeling pleasant today, and then he adds, “I guess if they accept, they can pick who to share the bed with.” Of course such a thing is unlikely to happen, but it’s not fair that only Hiori is getting to further sour Kaiser’s mood.

Yukimiya glances at Kaiser, who looks like he is about to shit himself in anger, for about a second and then focuses his attention back on Hiori in front of him. The sky is pure white and the ground is coated in snow. Today is a good day.

___

The Christmas marketplace afternoon is not turning out to be any fun. Gesner is regretting going. He’s sure everyone else is regretting going, actually — it’s like a lame school trip, but he’s not twelve anymore, so he can’t enjoy it at all.

There aren’t any baddies around to flirt with anyway, just mothers with children who probably don’t want anyone to bother them during the bustle of this commercialist holiday nightmare.

To make himself feel better, he engages in some recreational complaining about all the first world problems he’s had today while walking around all the vendors with the rest of the group.

“And I’ve got a crick in my neck because the fucking bus seats were not comfortable at all. Not to mention waking up at four is inhumane. Seriously, who funded this shit,” he says.

Grim has this solemn expression on, staring at Gesner with pensive sadness and a vague sense of understanding. If he were speaking to anyone other than Grim, maybe it would’ve been encouraging, but this is Grim’s default state of being and not a unique comprehension of how grave and serious Gesner’s frustrations are, so it’s kind of whatever.

“Also,” continues Gesner regardless, “Kaiser and the manager are being such annoying dick cheeses, arguing like little kids. Passive aggressive babies. Should’ve stayed back in Munich if you ask me.”

“So immature,” Grim says, still dour.

“I’m right behind you,” Kaiser pipes up.

Gesner clicks his tongue and talks over Kaiser, addressing Grim still. “You’re such a smegma too. Fuck you all.”

“Love is withering and fading all around on the day of the Messiah’s birth. How hilarious and yet poignant.”

“Seriously, shut the fuck up.” At the same time, “Stop talking about me like I’m not here you fucking lowlifes.”

“During my silence you will hear nature’s white noise as spirits mourn us in festivity.”

“Oh my god. You’re just saying random words, dick cheese.”

Gesner stomps away and gets lost somewhere else in the crowd. He doesn’t bother to turn around and apologize or otherwise acknowledge Kaiser’s existence.

___

It’s not the best thing in the world. Kiyora is bored, but he’s bored most days, so it’s not exceptionally horrible either. Even as a child, he wasn’t the type to get excited about Christmas, so there isn’t even any lost novelty. It’s all just bland and not special at all to him, though he admits he doesn’t mind getting free shit no matter the season.

There is an ice rink, so he thinks to try and pull off break dancing, but a dent forms in his plans when you approach him.

“I don’t know how to skate,” you say, in place of a greeting.

Not knowing what to do with this information and without seeing how it’s relevant to him, Kiyora replies with, “‘Kay.”

“Can I… Like… With you?”

He is annoyed, but doesn’t betray it with any unnecessary facial twitches or even with an attitude. Well, you’re the manager, so he supposes he can humor you.

He pulls you along with him, not letting you stay glued to the railing because then that would mean he’d have to be like that, too. Maybe if he were more considerate he’d be slow and gentle, but he doesn’t want to skate like that, so he just drags you along while you’re clumsy on your feet.

You don’t even chat. But it’s not uncomfortable or tense to be so silent — at least to him. Things of the sort don’t bother him. He’s immune to secondhand embarrassment and awkwardness. Besides, you’ve been in a mood ever since he first saw you in the morning and there has been no improvement, so he doubts you even want to talk to him.

Though the fact that it’s not uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s fun. It’s boring like most other things. Everything’s just boring to him most of the time when there is no conflict.

Kiyora flings you into a more complex skating sequence which without much of his support doesn’t work out and you end up tripping and falling on your face. Without a care or a second thought, he skates away from you while you groan in pain to try kick spinning on ice.

___

Something that Ness always admired in Kaiser ever since meeting him is that despite his obvious unhappiness, he’s in control of himself. He holds himself with dignity, cold and calculated. Despite everything Ness really likes that difficult and aloof personality, how he can’t get quite close to him.

But he’s just- different. Nowadays.

It’s not like, a new thing. Kaiser changes all the time, if necessary, an intentional change or a product of someone else’s prodding.

Today he is mopey, bitter and annoying even to Ness’s sensibilities. It’s a big achievement, all things considered, since at one point Ness considered himself impervious to Kaiser’s faults. But Kaiser… won’t stop complaining, won’t stop talking about you, and it’s walking on his last nerve.

Why is he so fucking whiny? Like truly, why? Has he always been like this and Ness just didn’t see it somehow or what? Did you put some spell on him to make him so desperate and pathetic?!

Even now he’s trying to help Kaiser ice skate and he just keeps turning around to glare at you and Kiyora and is overall not listening to anything Ness is telling him, plagued by uncharacteristic absentmindedness, but Ness keeps his stubborn smile in place anyway. No one can defeat him when he sets his mind to do something. Not even Kaiser himself can get in his way of enjoying Christmas with Kaiser, and that’s final.

Or at least that’s what he thinks until the accident happens where you slip and Kiyora leaves you there.

Despite not having the slightest idea, Kaiser lets go of Ness rather brazenly and tries to go and help you up — maybe with the thought this would be a good reconciliation opportunity — but follows suit and falls face first even harder than you did.

Ness stares.

This is it. A monumental moment, something thought impossible before, a mark in history.

… Alexis Ness got the ick from his beloved Kaiser.

Yukimiya ends up helping you up, gallant in a way Kaiser could only be in his imagination. Of course Ness helps him up anyway (such a good samaritan, considering his earlier epiphanies), and you two end up with matching scratches over your foreheads and noses, which makes both of you look about as idiotic as you are.

Ness is fuming.

But he continues to smile — he’s getting kind of concerned for himself if he has to be honest.

___

This marketplace has the biggest Christmas pyramid in Europe inside of it. It’s the kind of thing Ness used to imagine as a kid, so he owes it to himself to go in no matter what. There seem to have been a lot of ‘no matter what's’ involved for him today, as if he’s off to a warzone instead of a fucking Christmas trip with his team, but whatever.

Kaiser doesn’t even give the giant Christmas decoration a glance, too deep into his complaining to pay attention to much of anything. “I didn’t even want to come,” he says, amid the other problems he’s verbalized (except for the most important one, of course, which is that he’s feeling like a wounded animal over whatever you two fought about).

“Then- Then why did you?” asks Ness. Though he thinks Kaiser deserves a bit of snark for ruining the whole day for him, his confusion is also genuine. He knows Kaiser prefers to be in solitude on his birthday, and he’s not festive at all.

“It was just supposed to be different.”

“Well, um, okay.” Ness shuffles in place and looks over to the Christmas pyramid again. It’s gotten dark now, so the glow of its jovial lights makes it appear even more striking. You seem to be heading there, but Ness doesn’t think much of it, trying to voice a desire for once in his life. “I wanna go in and check out the wine.”

Kaiser narrows his eyes, then does his little frown. “I’m not going. Do I look twelve?”

Ness inhales. Seriously, he just wants one thing. He gets it, Kaiser’s having a shit time, but does he need to make it sound like only a stupid child would want to go after Ness voiced the simplest, most mundane wish someone could fucking have at such an event?

Does the planet need to stop spinning just because Kaiser is in a mood?

Huffing and scrunching his nose, he says, “Well, I’ll go by myself then.”

“Suit yourself.”

And he does. In a show of independence and perhaps spite, Ness takes off into a half jog and catches up to you. Kaiser is glaring at him from behind and he can feel it, but he doesn’t care. He’s sitting down next to you and having that mulled wine and that’s final — Kaiser can throw a tantrum about it if it’s so important. Outside. All alone.

God, he’s all guilty and pitying him now, temper fizzling out, but decides to stand on his decision to leave Kaiser to sulk like a scolded puppy by himself.

Ness takes the spot next to you after getting his drink. You seem a bit surprised by his appearance, but try not to let it show and he can still tell anyway.

He won’t ask.

He’s not going to ask what you fought about with Kaiser that’s got him all out of control.

Ness clears his throat and breaks the tentative silence with an awkward question. “So, um, are you enjoying the trip?”

“It’s alright. How about you?”

“Yeah, it’s been great.”

Wow, you two are such shameless liars. Bad at small talk too.

After the initial discomfort, Ness falls into a more normal conversation with you. The jolly music in the background is pleasant, at least to him, and in the avoidance of the topic of Kaiser, he actually gets to speak with you about himself as an individual. He realizes now throughout this that he’d almost forgotten what it’s like.

___

Kaiser’s skin is flushed pink, since it’s so cold outside, and his hair looks mysteriously even worse than usual, probably because of the wind. For someone whose favorite season is winter, it doesn’t seem to do him any favors.

Whatever.

Gesner watches, mildly disturbed, as Kaiser gobbles down his third bratwurst like it personally offended him.

He takes a sip of his shitty overpriced beer that he bought from the same food stall Kaiser got his dinner from. But it’s fine, he doesn’t need to sweat how he can buy the same brand from the supermarket ten minutes away from his house for a few euros cheaper, he has professional athlete money now. No biggie.

After some internal seething over this stupid beer he’s drinking, Gesner says, “So, why don’t you just apologize?”

“Apologize for what? I have nothing to apologize for.”

“Stop being such a dickweed. You’re making everyone uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care if you morons are uncomfortable. And why do you immediately assume I was the one in the wrong?”

“Well, we all know who the more reasonable between the two of you is, so I’m making an educated guess on who started it, whatever it was.”

“Nothing you ever do is educated.”

Kaiser rubs his forehead and sniffs as if the weather is giving him a runny nose, looking all despondent and offended at the same time. This is probably an attack to his sensibilities since he prides himself on being rational, but whatever. Gesner finds this whole ordeal so pathetic, and not in a cute way.

“Ok, do you seriously not care that you ruined it all for Ness? It’s not fun walking around with a wet jerkoff choking on his own angst all Christmas.”

“Listen, I get it, poor Ness. Whatever. But why do I need to force myself to act like nothing’s wrong? It’s my birthday. I’m not some monkey he hired to dance and smile with him if I’m not feeling it. Fuck Ness. Stop whining to me about fucking Ness. He can go fuck himself, no one made him hang around me the entire day if he hates it so much.”

Gesner rolls his eyes. “You’re so obnoxious,” he says.

“Go worry about how you hit on a single mother in front of her kid and the kid made fun of you,” Kaiser snaps.

Gesner takes one more long sip out of the beer can and stares up at the sky, trying to erase the memory of that incident from his head, while Kaiser finishes off the last of his sausage. He could abandon the conversation here, he supposes, go seek more pleasant company, but everyone’s always so acquiescent to Kaiser. No one ever gives it to him straight.

“I’m just saying- I don’t know if you get off on making yourself and everyone around you miserable or something, but this is ridiculous. It’s not making you happy, clearly, and your birthday’s ruined. Just make up with [Y/n] and apologize to Ness too. It’s not that hard.”

Kaiser heaves a theatric, long suffering sigh. “Fine. You’re right.”

Despite his bouts of pride and bullheadedness, Kaiser can admit when someone is making an actual point. Gesner never thought he’d be a name on the list of people who’ve schooled Kaiser, but it feels kinda good.

He picks his one liner to end the conversation, a final and critical utterance to symbolize his verbal victory: “Dick cheese.” 

God, he loves saying that.

___

There are so many fairy lights, it’s almost an eyesore.

Grim is walking around along with you and Ness after joining somewhere along the way since Gesner abandoned him. Woe is him. He cannot even shroud himself in darkness because of holiday beautification all over the city. Such merry roistering in a place full of crisis and misery, what with homelessness being so prevalent here. Exuberance can only exist and shine off of someone else’s back…

But Grim has always been fascinated by this sort of dichotomy, the way it follows all facets of life. It’s easy for him to apply his philosophy with its flexibility when he wants to see it, which is all the time. So he also makes everything about his beliefs all the time.

So, the fact that you’ve been having this relationship drama with Kaiser today of all days, intrigues him.

He lets out a bemused wail and clutches at his forehead like a maiden, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. You and Ness stop and look at him curiously.

Grim stares into your eyes. It’s intense, but you don’t flinch. Ness drags his shoe across the ground even though nothing is stuck to it and shuffles in place, jacket making noises along with the movement.

Finally, Grim places his hand on your shoulder, gripping tight. His declaration is dramatic. “You have a kind of frigidity I admire.”

You raise a curious eyebrow.

Grim continues gazing at you with his strangely wet, dark eyes. His pensive delivery continues. “Most people don’t have it in them to ignore and shittalk their boyfriend on his birthday, but you do. You’re coldhearted.”

“Hey, don’t instigate,” says Ness with a worried frown on his face. Poor thing, probably getting irritated that this shit keeps following him around, but what was he thinking going from Kaiser to you.

“I’m not trying to be cold or whatever. I just- you know, it’s about sticking to your principles.”

This isn’t helpful information considering no one knows what this mystical argument was even about. Grim doesn’t care what it was about either and Ness is sick of it, so he won’t inquire either in his hopes of cutting the topic short.

In these circumstances, the silence festers.

Your expression mirrors Ness’s as concern seems to dawn on you while you stare at him. “It’s not too harsh, is it?”

“Well, he wasn’t handling it well,” Ness admits.

“But what am I supposed to do when he’s not budging?!” You string the words together in a haste, fishing for sympathy or confirmation that you were in the right despite what seems like a vague amount of regret setting in.

…

Grim and Ness stare.

“I can’t just let him walk over me because it’s his birthday!”

They glance at each other then back at you and start nodding solemnly in tandem while letting out a few ‘fair’s here and there.

“Maybe I could’ve been kinder, but it’s a matter of principle! I wasn’t thinking clearly, since I was angry! It’s not like Michael is the only one in the world allowed to… to get angry and stop thinking straight. And we all make mistakes. Right? Right?”

The two of them still don’t even know what you did or why you’re trying to justify it so vehemently, but Grim assumes you’re more so reasoning with yourself rather than them. Ness displays the body language of someone whose skin is crawling.

“Misery on Christmas creates such a beautiful juxtaposition,” Grim says, wiping at his forehead again even though the temperature is in the negatives.

You roll your eyes.

Ness checks the time on his phone and fakes dismay over ‘cutting the walk short’ before suggesting heading back to the group meeting spot.

___

Kaiser would never admit it out loud, but he’s quite emotionally fragile and volatile at times. He’s been on edge all day to everyone’s notice, but now even more so on the way back, preparing to apologize or to beg if necessary (though honestly pulling out all the theatrics when wanting to reconcile in kind doesn’t seem like the brightest idea).

After some reflection, he has come to terms with the truth about the argument. Throughout the day he victimized himself in his memories, but it’s not the full picture. Of course Kaiser doesn’t care about painting himself in a virtuous light to his own imagination — being that he enjoys aggrandizing himself through malice — but more so to forget how the whole thing spiraled from a pathetic, wounded kind of spot in his psyche.

He went over to spend the night at your place last night, and then you were supposed to get to the bus before the trip together, but it didn’t happen according to plan.

When it struck midnight and the twenty-fourth became the twenty-fifth you were both still awake watching some pretentious French arthouse movie about an abused donkey which he pretended he picked out at random and not from an ‘intellectual movie list’ he looked up in advance.

Your alarm went off in the middle of the circus scene, and you wrapped your arms around him, gave him a few kisses on his face, then wished him a happy birthday.

Kaiser admits that his knee jerk reaction was irritation, but he held it in and granted you an awkward thanks, squeezing your waist as he returned the embrace.

But then you went off to get the cake you got him and his gift and he kind of freaked out. Not because they were bad, but because you know he hates surprises and he hates celebrating his birthday and why he hates being caught off guard so much to begin with, but went ahead and did it anyway. And, yeah, Gesner was right, he started it — he made some disparaging remark about how you should’ve known better and kept this shit to yourself.

You started digging into him too though, for his reactions, so he bit at you in response, then you refused to back down and it escalated into one of those things where it was more of an insult exchange than a real discussion. Many times you both twisted facts not merely about this instance of disagreement but about the relationship itself, petty and mean.

Kaiser realized he was being a bit ridiculous because he was goading you, and on purpose. He could’ve stopped and done damage control, but made the choice not to. In that moment he wanted to act as ugly as he could and have you accept him and love him in spite of it, so he kept making his own grave, and the more you mouthed off to him and dissected his faults too instead of just taking it, the more he felt hurt and rejected, and the more he lashed out as a result.

Then “Maybe we should just break up then!” flew out of your mouth. He accepted it with a sneer to your face, but really he knew it was mostly his fault, so he cried all night and choked himself before he ended up hollow and empty. He felt like shit and worse, he made you feel like shit too and he let it go on for too long.

He had his reasons for his gripes about the birthday celebration, but he should’ve communicated that more sensibly instead of expecting you to keel over and praise him in the face of his berating. His behavior spurred yours and your response to him spurred him to take it further, but it doesn’t mean he was right. All things considered the beginning of the stupid fight definitely wasn’t something worth losing you over.

But how does he fix it? He said a hundred things he didn’t mean last night and toyed with your temper, tried your sense of self-respect to try and fill the black hole inside of him, always seeking affirmation and reassurance. Please never leave me. Please accept me and coddle me no matter what I do because there are times when I can’t understand anything else. Please love me senselessly.

Which — apparently you’re not willing to do, and that was the cause of his whole dramatic distress. Though it’s probably a good thing how your love is somewhat conditional. Kaiser is glad, in a weird way, that you didn’t let him trample all over you without retaliation.

Do you even want him to try and make nice with you?

He can’t stop thinking about it. To whatever extent and in whatever way he’s capable of, he’s so smitten with you, but this isn’t an oopsie daisy situation where he can brush it off to the side and hope you can forget, what with how out of line he was.

It’s not even something he wants. He wants to say sorry and make proper amends after all this nonsense.

The group is making its way inside the hotel after stepping off the bus when he asks you to stay outside and talk.

You cross your arms and look at him, not seeming too pleased, but more willing to be in his presence than before. “What now?”

“I just…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks off to the side, ignoring your vexed tone. Despite his many mental rehearsals on the ride back, Kaiser never really figured out what to say. “I fucked up so bad. You were trying to be sweet and I acted histrionic and crazy and insulted you over something so dumb, just because I hate surprises and whatever else dumb reasoning I had. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Can we just… I don’t know, talk about it? I understand if you want to split, but I don’t, and I just wanna say I’m sorry for being unreasonable and… and fucking disrespectful and an ingrate too.”

A flash of surprise appears on your face, as if you hadn’t expected him to apologize, let alone to approach you first about it. Outside of that, he can’t judge what you think about it. His palms are sweaty and the silence, the longer it goes on, seems like it’ll crush in on him, a metaphorical weight, as if he’ll crumble under a mass of nothing.

“Oh, so you admit you were an ingrate?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an ingrate and you’re always right.” It sounds sarcastic, but he’s trying to have a sense of humor about it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the birthday thing too… I know you don’t like them-”

“No, no, don’t do that. It doesn’t matter how much I hate them. I could’ve said that like a normal person. Really. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, and… and, uh, I said some nasty things too. About you.”

“Yeah but, fuck, I was insulting you first. I don’t even care anymore, honestly. About you making me a surprise when I hate them and about whatever you said. I didn’t even mean all that shit I was spewing at you, I just- felt hurt and wanted to hurt you back, and it was fucked up of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for hurting you by disregarding you saying you hate the birthday celebration stuff and for doing too much with the insults too. I guess, I don’t know, it would’ve felt wrong to me not to give you anything for your birthday, but I should’ve listened to what you wanted anyway. It’s not like I know what you need better than you do.”

“That’s whatever. I’m over it.”

Kaiser stares at you because he doesn’t know what any of this means. You’re not accepting or denying him, just talking about what happened, and your expression is calm. The circumstances are completely unlike last night.

He’s not good at this substantial kind of talk, so he continues to stare, awaiting some kind of divine sign like maybe for you to robotically announce you forgive him, then you’ll interlace your fingers together and run off to skip in a field of flowers together or some such.

“You have a runny nose,” you point out.

“I know. Ignore it. I’m not doing the cocaine sniffle anymore, it’s getting old now.” Kaiser takes a step closer — not enough to encroach, but still desiring more proximity. “Listen, you can throw me a hundred surprises if you want, or hit me or scream at me or insult me for days on end, I just want you to know I really do regret it all. And… Please, don’t let me go.” The last bit is humiliating to speak and his cheeks heat up accordingly.

You step forward too, in his direction, once and then twice, before leaning in to wrap your arms around him, very gently. Relief floods his muscles, which had been tense all day all over in your absence, and Kaiser clings onto you tighter, tries to pull you closer. In the event this is a parting hug, he tries to memorize this sensation. Your warmth, your skin.

“Listen, I don’t want to leave you. Not really… I just don’t want this to be a thing. That you do. You get what I’m saying?”

“No, no, yeah. No more of this, I promise. I want to do right by you.”

Kaiser feels surprised that he means it.

“I love you, so I don’t really want to break up,” you whisper. It’s not your first time telling him you love him, but this instance is fragile and hesitant as if it is a novelty, though to be fair hearing it from your lips always makes his heart flutter.

He kisses you on the forehead and tells you he loves you too, which he means more than anything as well. Kaiser doesn’t think he’ll be pulling that shit anymore and so lightly either, not when it could cost him so much. The two of you hold each other in the snow for a few minutes longer, not wanting to move and disrupt your own reunion.

Kaiser can’t help feeling a bit happy and self-satisfied since he’s prevented you from moving to fuckass Hiori and Yukimiya’s room. They were totally taunting him earlier and he hopes they never score regular spots ever again.

___

Today’s main event for the trip is visiting something called ‘The Christmas Garden’.

Kurona examines the flowers, because what else is he supposed to do in a garden? Meanwhile Hiori’s watching you and Kaiser, seemingly enjoying each other’s company again despite yesterday’s malaise. You’re even holding hands and all.

“I think they made up,” Hiori says.

“Yesterday it was a calamity. Calamity.” Despite calling it a calamity, he doesn’t sound particularly invested when he replies.

“I was telling Isagi about it over LINE. He was happy Kaiser got dumped, but I guess no. Must’ve been just a fight then.”

It’s not interesting since you’re no longer wanting to beat each other up with hammers, so Hiori redirects his gaze back to Kurona again, who’s watching the flora in total disinterest. So then Hiori also fixes his face into one of neutrality and starts watching the flora in total disinterest too.

They are so bonding right now without Isagi’s interference!

“I would’ve liked it better if we got to see sharks,” says Kurona.

“There’s an aquarium, so maybe we can sneak off there after this.”

“No, no. I mean here in the garden. Lately I’ve been getting really into sharks in unusual places.”

“… What?”

___

It's the 25th where I am now so happy birthday to Kaiser!!!

[g1rlken]

Inherently his

Rupert Campbell Black x gem!reader

Summary: domestic fluff #10 prompt list request

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: slight implications

Well polished burgundy car roof made a tapping sound against Rupert’s hands as he paced and sighed in the parking lot. Not frantically, not out of nerves, he never had those. Anticipation however was rather irritating. He didn’t realise when he caught that on from his wife, polar opposites. Ever anxious y/n’s unbothered lover. Most stuff rarely phased Rupert.

But when it regarded her, he couldn’t help it. Her wearies became his just the same way her joy lay in his. It was difficult to not adapt to her ways, especially on her big days. She was after a new job position, switching places in workspace and it was a big interview. He drove her to the place all calm and collected, full well confident in her capabilities. But as he awaited her return from the interview he couldn’t help but feel tense for her. She had wanted this for so long, despite the need of its financial aspect she didn’t have to work a day in our out of the house to sustain them in any way. But it wasn’t about that, he was a lover to an extremely passionate and determined woman. She would be crushed for days if it didn’t go her away after the time and energy she spent into this project. Regardless he quickly pushed that thought aside as his belief in her resurfaced more.

The sight of her walking out the building with her blazer and files in her hand and a bit far to make out her facial expression, he stiffened and paced closer himself. Reaching up to him she shrugged, with a heavy sigh as he searched for her eyes to meet his. “Apparently” she took a deep breath and paused for exaggerated effect, “I got it!” She exclaimed pivoting almost instantly and jumped right into his arms which he had opened for consolation either ways.

“Dear god” Rupert let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his heart beating in his ears, the false dread she built up replaced with immense happiness. “I knew it!” Kissing the top of her head he exclaimed, sweeping her off of her feet to spin her around. Deepening the embrace he held her impossibly close before putting her feet back to the ground with her giggles and squeals but didn’t exactly pull away. “My wonder girl didn’t I tell you!”

“Yes!” She giggled, heart warmed by his embrace and enthusiasm, mirroring his ear to ear smile. “I can’t believe it—I made it in the first round!”

“Well I for one most definitely can!” He brought her face closer to his, cupping her cheeks as he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. A hurried, teeth pressed, full of excitement movement of their lips crashing.

The surge of happiness within her was as it is skyrocketing, the kiss only highlighted it. “I couldn’t be more happier” she said breaking the kiss, “and thank you, for all that you put up with in the process I couldn’t have done it without-“

“I am about to kiss you to shut you up” he said placing soft peck on her lips again. “And I won’t hesitate to go further should you say, ‘thank you’ to me again. Ridiculous behaviour!” Rupert scolded her teasingly but he meant it.

It’s not as if Rupert needed a reason to celebrate his wife or celebrate with her. Everyday he got to wake up enlaced in her arms was a celebration, the warmth of her, the joy she radiates, everything pumped life into him. Most days he couldn’t comprehended she was real, someone who steered the storm of him directly out to the shore. He did not think it was possible, he couldn’t imagine being so anchored, so grounded but there she was and all it took her was a smile and his world seemed just fine. He knew he didn’t deserve her but he was so damn glad she was his. As were her dreams and her joys like her wearies.

Amongst obvious other things within their celebration, they ended up at the fancy fine dining. Generally the cooks of Rutshire sufficed for good food more than enough and Rupert’s expertise to romanticise the setting didn’t make their home dining table look any different than a fancy place yet she insisted on not skipping town this town. It wasn’t rare for them but his dates were rather activity oriented and y/n was already spent that day and wanted a slower night.

Time flew by at the dinner like it always did because conversation came so natural with her, at times he felt like he could spend hours just staring at her face, her perfect face with star for eyes and hearts on her lips and the sweetest tongue and the most precious laughter, he could swear her hair had intoxicating wildflowers in them as if he couldn’t waste a blink of a moment he got to stare at her. As the waiter presented the couple with a bill, she reached out for it and at first he assumed she were to slide to him since it was closer to her reach but she didn’t which alarmed him for a moment. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He said with an unaccounted scoff and stopped her by placing his hand above here.

“Getting the check.” Y/n wanted to be nonchalant about this, not make a fuss of it yet somewhere with herself she knew that he would definitely not let her be sly about this.

“Yes my darling girl, get it here please.” He spoke trying to get the brown bill holders towards himself. Surprised that she gripped it harder he frowned in a confused manner. This was first of its name, extremely uncharacteristic it was an unsaid relationship law between them that he always paid. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” Brows furrowed back in reciprocation, a bit taken aback as to how seriously he took this prospect of paying for a restaurant check. When clearly neither of them had any financial bounds, even independently. “I’m paying.”

Rupert just laughed in her face as though she cracked a joke, “very funny” this time he grabbed the check towards himself at once.

“I’m serious!” Exclaiming with a whine as she tried to reach out for it again and he leant backwards shaking his head at her determination to get to it, “I’ve got a promotion today, come on!”

“And? You’re still my wife.” Rupert said with a quick glance at the bill and instantly shutting the book so she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the figure.

“Yes exactly! I’m your wife I should be allowed to treat you.” She reasoned further prying him to let her see the bill but it was of no use, he’d already hid it behind him and sat tall in her way to reach to it.

“I am treated more than enough. More than you could imagine.” He shrugged as he reached for his wallet, a mere moment away from guarding the bill from her and she was back at it. Yet with another feeble attempt to reach to it.

“You know I can afford it!” It was like a dead end getting the ever headstrong, hellbent on spoiling her, husband of hers to be convinced to let her do something for once.

“It’s not about affording my love, I myself can’t morally and romantically afford you paying.” He exaggerated getting his wallet out and distracted her with a kiss as he placed the money inside the bill, so she truly couldn’t see the amount, no pestering would get him to change his ground.

“You are relentless” she breathed breaking away from the kiss yet remained close to his face.

“And you are mine.” He continued kissing the side of her face then let go off the bill putting it on the fattest side of the table, away from her reach. “Mine to spoil, to love, to irk, to fuck the life out of—“

“I think that’s enough” widening her eyes with the prospect he was reaching towards at the end of his sentence, not that she minded it. He knew that, besides the blush on her face said otherwise too. It was a rather civil and a public setting to be romantically lewd.

“Is it?” A deep chuckle escaped him at her awkward unbidden expression, he loved that.

“Let’s go?”

“—As my sweet girl wishes.”

-

It like any other day of their married bubble, only the first week of y/n’s promotional job and she had come home later in the evening. Obviously Rupert had to pick her up, he noticed this change within her of not being drained and mundanely exhausted from her long work day. She would talk his ear off unlike falling asleep on the way back home out of exhaustion how it occurred in her previous job. Rupert himself could tire out from her enthusiasm at the end of day, he loved this for her. Seeing her prosper and spend her time doing what she loved and coming home to who she loved, it warmed his heart. The hearty soul of her did not need energy for love, it was inherently imbedded within her.

However much he loved for the her to work on her deepest passions timelessly, his own deepest passion was loving her. It would have annoyed him if she had been working late over a job that drained her: that would be twice the disgrace of time he shared with her and he hated having it lessened. As of now, knowing she was off doing what she loved it simply eased his heart he’d never want her to cut down a bit even for him. He could simply find more time. Just how he picked her up from her workspace, it was a forty minute drive from their home, so almost an hour and half round trip for him but that gained forty more minutes with her.

Now, once home as she was having a bath, he came inside with his chair and a book in his hand as casually as strolling into any other room in the house. For a moment she was surprised and alarmed, shifting within the water and the foam surrounding. She had already offered him to join her but he’d refused her since he had already bathed. Was he planning to bath twice in the same evening? She thought to herself awaiting him to remove his clothes and get in but he just settled the chair close to the bathtub and sat on it. He even opened the book and was about to go on with his reading as though he just took a comfortable seat in the living room. “Rupert?” She questioned extremely amused by this antic.

“Yes my love?” He responded without looking at her, crossing one leg above the other, flipping through pages to reach the page he’d last left the book on.

“What are you doing?” A small giggle escaped her tilting her head, he was about to do something thematically romantic at any point she considered but this wasn’t as steamy as he usually was for foreplay.

“I’m reading.” He shrugged, as he raised the book fully to display her the cover. The

two often had silent reading sessions and the book he was currently into was something she had recommended so he would not read it if she wasn’t around. Not that she asked, but he’d rather have her around when he was reading a book she recommended, or some other book, or the newspaper, figuratively just about whatever. He’d always prefer to be around her.

“Whilst I’m trying to have a bath?” Bemused y/n tried piecing if he was actually nonchalant or going somewhere with this, she could generally tell. Currently it was weighting heavy on him being nonchalant yet, this setting was too much for him to not go somewhere.

“And have I blown out the candles? Have I turned the shower on? Have I splashed you with cold water?” Rupert went on with alternatives that would require her confusion “I’m not stoping you from bathing, love.”

“But you said you didn’t want to get in? You already bathed.” Who seriously reads in the goddamn bathroom whilst someone is having a bath. Rupert, apparently. This was a new discovery, at times he would walk in on her showering or bathing and most definitely join in, even if they were talking and she had to pee he’d just carry the conversation through the door, right outside. Not that he didn’t pester to be let inside, it’s just where she deemed 2 minutes of privacy to be necessary.

“I am not bathing. I am reading.” Rupert emphasised again, “I have got my chair see?”

“You can read in the living room, or our bedroom, or the guest room or wait—the library!” She joked leaning against the bathtub wall, finding this situation rather comical but it was a genuine chosen setting for him.

“No I want to read here with you so we get more time together.” He mentioned ever so casually whilst reading and indulging the conversation with her at the same time.

“I’m not going away on war tomorrow, Rupert.” Y/n was surprised to say at least, at times it seemed like Rupert was an amalgamation of all possible love languages: physical touch, words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time too.

“But we will go to bed in a few years so we would be away for six to eight hours—depending on where the night leads us.” He told her with a smirk on his face, implying what they got up to at night and regards with how much time the activity takes up to be up the next day.

“We sleep in the same bed what do you mean away?” This time she laughed, which made his lips curl down to a small smile from the smirk.

“I don’t get to see you until I wake up.” He reasoned and given how sure he was of himself Rupert considered that most definitely valid. By then, since the door was open like it always was, one of his dogs made its way inside as well. Peacefully lounging next to Rupert’s chair as he scratched their fur child’s back. “See, you’re his favourite too!” Time to time, not even one moment went by where Rupert didn’t think out loud about his book or even the most mundane of conversations which peaked their minds.

As he fell silent, focused on a passage y/n finally found the moment to reflect on this scenario “I really can’t believe you actually went on with this.”

“Darling I read all the time.” Rupert told her, breaking his reading link without hesitation.

“No I meant in here, I’m literally naked here.” She mentioned even though the foam covered all of it leaving her out just from the neck and face. It wasn’t left to interpretation that she was naked obviously.

“I have seen you naked more than you have seen yourself naked, come on” shrugging he returned to his finger on the word of his book to continue. The exaggerated implication didn’t seem so exaggerating when he said it like that and she knew better than to challenge him.

“Wow” was all she could mutter with a small laugh, “you know most people don’t bath with an audience.”

“One, you’re not most people and two, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Their black mutt walked inside as well, buzzed with enthusiasm when it saw the full bath tub. Pacing up to jump right in with y/n, Rupert brew this habit of bathing with his dogs and as much as she loved them, she couldn’t bath in a lavender soap foam pool and tangerine candle hue with their dogs.

“And that’s my cue” she sighed, reaching up for the towel and quickly wrapping herself in it as she got out. The dog moved frantically in the bathtub with more room available now, causing Rupert to laugh and he stood up following her outside. Resettling on the arm chair in the bedroom as she got dressed, “it really concerns me to think what would happen to you if I had to go away for work or a girlfriends retreat for a week or two.”

“Your ladies trip generally runs short for upto 2 days and 4, maximum. As of work I’d just come with you” he proposed a solution at the top of his head.

“What if you couldn’t?” Amusing, y/n put on her bottoms. Now he’d completely set his book aside given he couldn’t miss a chance to see her getting dressed which made her laugh a bit to herself.

“What could I possibly have to do?” Rupert shrugged, lounging back on the chair. He had his work too but he didn’t even consider to consider it on the same level of importance.

“You’re a minister!” Exclaiming she reminded him, he spoked it a casually as if a real world did not exist outside of her. If he were to answer to that he’d let her know he was aware of a world outside of her but the real world lied within her so it didn’t matter anyways. “House of commons were in a crumbling mess whilst I would be away for work, what then?”

“Everything is a crumbling mess when you’re away darling.” Shifting in his chair he let out a sigh, “Besides if Tony Baddingham can use three different choppers in the same day to commute from the same office, I can most definitely fly out in one to see my wife.”

“What if I end up in an instant tragic situation and pass away?” She was layering herself, pulling a sweater over her head blocked her view of his face, which was an an immediately colour drained and changed one as she pulled it down. They were being light hearted, funny, what set him off all of a sudden?

“If you didn’t want me to read whilst you were bathing you could have simply asked me and I would have left granting you your privacy.” His playful demeanour shifted to a rather stoic one in an accusatory tone.

“What-?” It left her confused since she didn’t even comment on that subject nor did she drop any passive taunts that it bothered her, “what are you saying of course I wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just funny, sweet even I didn’t say it bothered me not at all.”

“Then why say such morbid things?” He scoffed, the unsettling feeling in him could not be contained whilst being seated so he stood up.

“It was just a silly question but it’s not inevitable-“ trying to reconstruct the meaning of her question he interrupted her.

“This is ghastly behaviour y/n, why would you say such things” letting out a heavy breath he paced small steps back and forth as he spoke.

“Such things? Are you serious? Life is just unpredictable it’s not like I said something wrong about you!” The exaggerated adjectives he used really ticked her off for some reason.

“It is plenty wrong talking about exiting our life like that!” He retaliated with words but kept his volume level headed like a normal conversation because despite his anger she deserved a decent tone from him at all times. valid anger and ill behaviour were mutually exclusive, one didn’t account for other obviously.

It left her taken aback and somewhat finding this conversation ridiculous, “it’s just logical thinking. Why do you think people have life insurances—both of us have one.”

“It’s a practicality. It’s a requirement.” He emphasised growing agitated that he wasn’t getting his extremely simple point across.

“Exactly it’s practical-! Neither of us will live forever.” She pointed out to the space between them, unsure of what exactly was making him have such a dramatised point of view.

“You don’t have to talk like that when I asked you once not to, I don’t enjoy that.” He sighed, tone dejected as sulk overpowered.

“You want me to apologise for saying I may die one day?” She asked sarcastically it wasn’t as serious nor difficult to her as it was to him.

Her repeated if again truly punctured his resolve for proper-ness. “Yes.” He paused, he generally never demanded apologies especially not from her.

“I am not saying sorry for a joke” she scoffed shaking her head, he was absurd to think that wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“—I think you should.”

“Well I won’t.” Remaining firm to her point y/m didn’t waver. But with a tensed jaw he did. Grabbing the pillow set from his side of the bed was enough for her to piece his move “you have got to be kidding me.” Generally when the fought, she would be the one sending him off to sleep in the guest room, he eventually would make his way back or vice versa because they did not believe in letting the other one go to sleep upset, yet this was a first. He couldn’t possibly outmatch her pettiness.

Rupert didn’t say anything as he made his way past her, the pillow tucked under his arm as he reached for his book. “You can keep your apology.” He huffed and left with his last word.

Leaving her to their bedroom, she pondered confused for a while that she truly did not say anything offensive and of the apologising, which clearly wouldn’t make her a smaller person but it was about principles. Was he even that upset? Why was he even that upset?

Rupert could be upset but he most definitely could not be upset and far from her for longer bounds of time, he softly knocked on their open bedroom door and leaned against the doorframe. Averting her attention to the door, she was doing her routinely journaling and today was rather eventful. “Back in 45 minutes?” She couldn’t help but smirk slightly at that, “you broke your last record I’m truly proud of you!”

With a deep exhale he leant off the doorframe and walked over to her stopping the stopwatch she’d set on their alarm clock. It was this stupid inside joke, he would always come back from the guest room or the other way around and she would time how much minutes to break their resolve. It was bittersweet in a way that despite the fight and faults he never made her upset to the extent of not awaiting him. “Last was 40 minutes was it?”

“41.” She corrected wanting to see him lighten up, the inescapable small smile on his face really helped. “Sit” she pulled him down to sit close to her, cross legged on the bed. His hands in hers as she spoke “what’s really got you so upset huh? It can’t be what I said, is it because I was working late?”

“No no it’s not you working late. On the contrary I am very happy about that, you’re pursuing your dream, I couldn’t be happier. But it is what you said…” he trailed off with a sigh tightening his grip back on her hands. “I have lived most of my life with my heart on my sleeve, until you I’ve never come across a love I was affected deeply by if I were to lose. I have lost, people have left and quite frankly I wasn’t affected to the one tenth fraction of them leaving than how the thought of losing you in any way affects me. I feel every minute of every hour you are not here, the mere thought is extremely disheartening and unpleasant. Is it possessive? Obsessive? Absolutely fucking mental? I couldn’t care less. I love my wife and I want her around forever. Y/n I put my heart off my sleeve into your hands and that’s the only place I want it to be.”

It left her speechless that he was in such turmoil, she felt so bad for being so insensitive towards him earlier she even refused to apologise, “Rupert” she said meekly, unable to hold his gaze she kissed him and shut her eyes. Deepened and passion filled kiss, with his arms enlacing her waist he brought her to his lap. “I am so so sorry, I feel like a jerk. I had no idea you had such overwhelming dread of losing me I am truly very sorry I joked like that-“

“You couldn’t have known unless I tell you, it’s not your fault.” Rupert reassured her instantly holding her closer to himself.

“I should have known. I can’t be this careless when I am holding your heart in my hands.” She spoke cupping his face to bring it closer to place a soft peck on. “Now that I know better I wouldn’t be so difficult with jokes, you are not losing me in any sense, in any way, ever. Life may be unpredictable but we will be inherently together to witness it I promise you.”

“My darling girl” he intertwined his fingers through her hair as he kissed her again and the bliss of beautifully heavy feelings and a perfect promise rounded them.

—

Brothers and kings, it is 5:48 am I just wrote this…staying up…I can hear the milk man and our neighbours waking up…I have no g1rl left in me you can call me dude

Also please I’ve made this with a lot of will and CRAZY efforts please please please leave a comment I would love to wake up to pls pls pls if you hate this piece I will kms

[kyufessions]

koala

synopsis: you help your boyfriend take his makeup up off after work

pairings: idol, boyfriend! chenle x g.n. reader

genre: domestic, fluff

word count: 1.0k

a/n: got this idea from the recent weverse live. sigh.

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

the creaking of the front door didn’t alarm you, knowing it was your boyfriend after a long day of promotions. you knew he had been on his way, you just didn’t know he’d be here so soon. on your face sat an animal themed face mask and on your feet a foiled foot mask, with only five minutes left for each as a horror film played on the television. as the footsteps approached closer, your eyes stared out to the door frame and stared at the groggy man with a full face of makeup and tired eyes that widened at your state.

his lips upturned at sight in front of him, the smile weak but facial expression entertained. tossing his bag to the designated corner, he drags his feet into the bathroom and grabs some makeup cleaner, a washcloth, and plops down next to you. you just stare at him, a small grin on your lips. “you look cute.” he says as he looks up to you, moving his body so his head is laying in your lap. “is that a panda?”

nodding, you place a quick peck to his lips. “you look tired, baby. how was work?” you lean over to start taking the foil masks off your feet, rubbing to excess into them and tossing the masks into the trash bin next to the nightstand as chenle tells you about his day. when you turn your head, you notice him holding the cleansing balm and washcloth out towards you. tilting your head for the dramatics with a smile, you look between him and the items. “what’s this for?”

“can you wash off my makeup for me, please?” an exaggerated pout makes way onto his face, earning a small chuckle from you. soft moments like this with chenle happened every so often. your relationship was very playful and fun, the soft moments came and went but the love was always there and never questioned. but whenever either of you were ever this vulnerable with one another you never batted an eye, just went along with it.

opening up the banila cleansing balm, you take out the scrapper and start putting small amounts of it throughout his face. his eyes flutter shut, enjoying this small moment between you two. the sound of the terrifier 2 plays in the background, the vulgar noises going through one ear and out the other. you focus on making sure you get each part of his face but avoiding his eyes so as to not irritate them, watching all the colors mix together on his face as they melt into an oil mixture. wetting the wash cloth with your water bottle, you bring it to his face and start washing off the oil and making sure there’s no excess.

as you begin to wash off the oil, chenle’s eyes open back up to watch the process. his eyes watch you focus with your bottom lip out in a pout, eyes slightly squinted as you make sure to get every inch and not stain the new pillow cases you just bought last week. once you announce you’re finished, he slides off the bed lazily and tosses his clothes into the hamper. as he does so, you finally take off your face mask and throw it into the trash bin and soak the rest of it into your skin. as you tossed the mask into the garbage, you felt chenle wrap his arms around your waist and lay his head back in your lap.

when you looked down at him all he wore was his boxers and a basketball tee, his eyes still tired but grin still exuding happiness. you automatically wrap your arms around him, confused but allowing it to happen. “what’s gotten into you tonight?” you tease, causing him to look up at you.

“谢谢.” was all he said, his grin turning into a tired smile before placing a kiss to your thigh.

“i’m your partner, you don’t need to thank me.” you reply, placing your lips on his quickly before pulling him into his spot on the bed next to you.

he allows you to do so, secretly enjoying it anyway. the movie is long forgotten at this point but you don’t forget to make a mental note to rewatch it tomorrow when you have the time. you move the blanket so it’s on top of both of you and your boyfriend and allow him to cuddle up next to you, your arm wrapping around him and hand landing in his hair to play with his now messy strands.

“rough day?” you asked as he played with your shirt, his head on your chest and his breathing becoming slower. you can tell he could fall asleep any second now, but you always wanted to make sure he got everything off his chest he needed to so he didn’t sleep with anything heavy on his mind.

he moved his head up and down as if in a nodding motion. “yeah, just a lot of dance practices and interviews.” he lets out a deep sigh against your skin, causing a shiver to run up your spine as the ending credits roll from the end of the film. his one leg intertwines with yours, wanting to become even closer as he continues on about his day. “i finally have a day off tomorrow though, so that’s good.”

humming in agreement, you look down at him and press a small kiss to the top of his head. “about time.” you sink your body further down into the mattress, feeling your eyes getting heavy as well. as you reach over and turn off the nightstand light, you continue with your sentence. “my little koala has been working hard lately.”

although exhausted, chenle’s head shoots up and his eyes shoots daggers at you. his nose scrunches in disgust, hating the stupid nickname. “i hated that so much.” he pecks your lips before resting his head on your chest again, cuddling back into your warmth. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you roll your eyes, adjusting yourself in a position to get comfortable for bed. “yeah yeah, you love my stupid nicknames.” you feel him tap your side with his thumb two times, signaling something. “what?”

“you didn’t say it back.”

“chenle. you know i love you too.”

“just say it back, please. so i can go to bed.”

“i love you too.”

“good.”

even when half asleep he’s extremely stubborn.

[luigis-lover]

we've got it all - l.m.

my first full on fic! hope y'all like it <3 fluff and angst, enjoy. wc: 6.7k

synopsis: luigi's past got brought up in conversation and your thoughts couldn't help but linger and wonder what could've been

~

Freshly out of the shower, you and Luigi were mindlessly conversing in bed. In the humble abode of your cozy, loving apartment. Where you two spent your days. The walls creating a warm space where you two live comfortably, in your own little world. 

You two had eaten breakfast, spoke of plans for the day. Which led to playful tangents, bantering, and giggling in the kitchen. Only for Luigi to lift you off the counter and carry you to the bedroom. 

“You know…” Luigi mumbles out. Both of you leaned against the headboard. “I hit the jackpot with you.” he confesses as he smiles at you, his face turned to look at you like you’re the only thing that matters. 

Your smile grows and your heart flutters, your eyes warming as he expresses. 

“No, because I'm pretty sure I hit the jackpot with you!” you playfully retort, smiling as you look over at him, who’s beside you in bed. 

Luigi lets out a hearty laugh, looking away as he grins. 

“No, because I'm serious.” your voice gets softer and sincere. Scooting closer to him, nuzzling into his side. The back of your head fitting perfectly in the vertex of the pit of his arm. Luigi instinctively wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “You’re the most selfless and sweetest guy I've met. It’s not everyday you meet a respectable kind man. A man I'm lucky to call mine.” 

Your words hit him deep. You’re no longer joking. He can see the genuine look in your facial expressions and hear the sincere tone in your soft voice. 

Luigi leans down to meet your lips, his heart racing. Both of your eyes falling shut. His hand cupping a side of your cheek. The short loving kiss is left lingering as you pout against his pink ones. 

“Stop because youre going to make me cry.” you exaggerate in a whisper. Your eyes soft and child-like. 

Luigi’s lips turn up as he hears that baby voice he knows all too well. The one you use when you get all mushy and emotional. And damn he loves it! 

He chuckles and his whole face lights up. Pulling away from the kiss, far enough to get a better look at your face but near enough to keep you close. 

“No tears allowed.” Luigi teases with a growing smile, already seeing your smile grow. Your chuckles filling his ears. 

“How could I not when you’re being so sweet?” you counter, pouting again playfully. Knowing it gets to him. 

“Well who hit the bigger jackpot?!” Luigi continues with a grin, a little mischievous look in his eyes. Not giving up on the idea that he hit it. “Because I wake up every morning knowing I'm the luckiest man alive.” 

Your rosy cheeks lift up as you smile. Your eyes glowing and heart fluttering. 

You chuckle and continue with the playful competition. 

“Well… I wake up every morning knowing I'm the luckiest girl with such an amazing guy.” you reiterate with a pleased smile. Rolling over to lay on top of him, confident and assured in your claims.

Nestling your face into his neck. Luigi’s hand immediately wraps around your waist as you change positions into this much more affectionate one. 

“You just cherish me and treat me like I'm the only girl in the world.” you close your eyes as he pulls you closer, allowing you to burrow into his neck. His fingers running through your locks. 

A proud smirk is formed on Luigi’s face as he hears your words. The way you appreciate him and never make him feel unnoticed makes him feel seen. It warms his heart. 

“Damn straight.” Luigi boasts in that prideful tone. Loving how confident you make him feel. “You have no idea how grateful I am to have met you y/n.” Luigi admits as he rubs up and down your back. Letting out a little thoughtful exhale.

You lift your face up from the crook of his neck to meet his gaze. 

“Really?” You mutter out softly. Eyes filled with curiosity as you hear his genuine tone at the end. There’s a shift in the conversation. Luigi nods as your eyes meet, loving how small you look in his arms. 

The way you’re laid over his body makes him feel like your protector. The one who can keep you safe and loved. Your facial expressions are soft and adorable, too adorable for him to handle. “Mmhmm.” he mumbles out in response. “Someone honest. Sweet. Funny. Gorgeous.” Luigi trails off softly as his hazel eyes meet yours. 

Your small smile grows and you can feel your cheeks warming up. His hand roaming up and down your back, still. 

Luigi knows how rare it is for him to have met someone like you. Someone who gets him, who supports him and loves him for him. As in the past, in his college days and even in his time in Hawaii, he searched and much to ‘his efforts’ he never found the one until he met you. 

“I spend my life looking for you. You know how hard it was? It’s truly a miracle I met you. Do you know how rare it is to meet someone like you?” Luigi states, wanting you to know it, to hear it. Luigi’s eyes are on you as he looks down at your laid body before him. 

Luigi knows what a true gem you are and he doesn’t ever plan on taking you for granted. Finally having found someone he once would wish and dream for. Knowing he won’t let you go now that he’s found you. 

“Is it?” you’d ask thoughtfully, wanting to hear Luigi say it. Your face is still pulled away from his neck, looking up at him as he’s looking down at you. Mere inches apart. 

Luigi treats you the way he does, the worshipping and simping, being an outright gentleman because you're aware of how lost he was before he met you. Running away from family and friends because of how off he felt in a world full of people who didn’t see him or understand him. 

But not you. You got him instantly. A light that brightened up his life. And vice versa, he made you feel special like no other. He was like a breath of fresh air, he wasn’t like other guys. Wanting to be chased or acting douchey. 

Luigi seemed like he just wanted to talk and be heard, be accepted. You were each other’s ying and yang. Balancing each other out.  

Luigi furrows his brows as you ask the question. As if you’re questioning your integrity. “Yes!” he blatantly affirms. 

“I don’t know… I feel like you could’ve had any girl you wanted.” a growing smile forms on your face as you peg him. 

He exhales dramatically and rolls his eyes. “Yeah… maybe… but they were never genuine or profound.” Luigi confesses about girls he could’ve had if he wanted. His voice becoming sincere and thoughtful. He had high standards but in reality he just wanted a girl who cared. Not just about him but about the world. 

He didn’t like a superficial girl and you were nothing like that.

“My parents would have all these girls lined up for me. All these preppy girls coming from wealthy Baltimore families. Connected to family friends or business partners. But…” he expresses as he trails off again, sighing. 

You didn’t need him to continue, you understood him perfectly. He didn’t connect to that lifestyle. The opulent events, filled with ostensible people who only seeked him for connections and networking. Or just wanting to get wrapped in with the Mangione name. Not the genuine connection that he seeked. 

Luigi didn’t have anything against the girls his parents would want to arrange him with. They just weren’t for him. Those girls wanted a husband, and he didn’t just want to be a husband for the title. He wanted to be a husband for all little lines in between, the ins and outs of a true marriage. But at the time, being a spouse wasn’t even a seed in his mind. 

Luigi was in his mid-twenties, he just desired and ached for a true connection and he knew that the odds of finding someone looped in with his parents wouldnt be it. 

“...I just didn’t feel like that was who I was searching for.” he admits in a lower tone. “Those girls weren’t who I was looking for. Not someone I shared ideologies with.” 

You nod as you look up at Luigi, hearing his heartfelt reflection. “I know.” you whisper softly and reassuringly. Your hand splaying up and down his side, meeting with his delicate toned skin. All while your heart warms as Luigi opens up.

“But what about the other girls? The ones who didn’t know about your family?” You’d ask curiously, knowingly. As you know he doesn’t go off parading his last name. 

“Like the girls from UPenn or Hawaii?” You mentioned, as those girls knew Luigi for more than a Mangione. Sharing a campus or co-living space with him. Spending quality time with him. In a school club or frat party at Penn or at Surfbreak at the beach or at their big feasts in their well off condos. 

Luigi's smile grows as you ask, enjoying your intrigue for the topic and how you genuinely seem interested in his life and previous endeavors. 

“Those girls?” Luigi smirks playfully and you can't help but playfully roll your eyes at his goofy smile. Your own smile growing and even letting out a chuckle. 

Luigi’s hand lowers down and gives your ass a playful slap, as he chuckles. “They were cool.” he teases without giving too much information, just to mess with you. 

You quirk a brow up at him and you return the playful look. He only replies with a little laugh. 

“They were cool.” Luigi reaffirms again with a little grin. Egging you on. 

You nestle your face back on his chest. “Mhm?” you insist for him to go on. Your arm rests on Luigi’s pecs as you cuddle into him, your face finding refuge in the familiar spot of his neck again. Already used to Luigi’s little teasing. 

“Well those girls, at least didn’t initially know me for my name or family.” Luigi starts off, smiling as he holds you close. Squishing the flesh of your ass gently but firmly as he speaks. 

Luigi turns his head down to see your face burrowed restfully in his neck, basking in the sight of your smaller body over his muscular one. 

He takes the comfortable silence as cue to continue, hand stilled on your skin. “I met a lot of people throughout the past couple of years. But if we’re speaking solely on girls. Yeah, I talked to a couple. Never too serious, except for a couple girlfriends, here and there” Luigi gets more serious as he speaks. 

You nod, eyes closed as you relax on top of him. Inhaling his scent. 

You were aware that Luigi had a college girlfriend and some flings in Honolulu. 

“She seemed smart.” You mention as he knows you’re referring to his past girlfriend from university. 

“She was.” Luigi remarks with a smile, his eyes never leaving your loving figure atop of him. “Sometimes a little too smart for me.” he chuckles jokingly. Luigi continues before you have a chance to interject. Not that he didn’t want you to, but he was in the flow of conversation. “It didn’t work out though.” 

Your mind fills with questions but Luigi is already answering them. “We wanted different things.” his hand course through your hair, sending shivers down your body. 

Your brows furrow as he speaks mindlessly. Questioning and being curious, you lift your face up and away from his neck. “Why? What do you mean?” 

Luigi shrugs and smiles down at you. Loving your straightfowardness and the way you don’t shy away from eliciting. 

“She wanted different things than I did.” Luigi meets your eyes. Already continuing before you had a chance to ask. “She wanted a future with a man who had a clear path.” Luigi informs, seemingly well. Not a flicker of doubt or pain in his eyes. 

“You know? It all went back to that lifestyle my parents wanted for me.” He admits. “She wanted someone respectable in society. The Penn days were coming to an end and she wanted to settle, nothing wrong with it. But I just felt like there was so much more to life than that. At least at the time.” Luigi expresses as his eyes are soft, his gaze on yours. 

“You are respectable.” I affirm to him, my eyes and expression clear as day. 

Luigi can’t help but smile at your determined tone, you’re always grounding him, giving him that little push he needs at times. His heart warms at your words. Luigi whispers a “thank you baby” against your lips. You simply nod and smile, pressing your lips against his briefly. 

“But I get it. I understand where she was coming from and I get you too.” you note, tracing a finger through his hairline. “She seemed like she knew what she wanted. Had her mind set.” 

Luigi smiles as he looks down at you, percieving the understanding that you cast. His large hands run up and down the curves of your butt. 

“You understand me don’t you?” Luigi graces, his heart warming at how you just seem to get him. He knows that no one else knows him more than you do. “You understand my need for freedom. For curiosity.” Luigi’s words dawn little whispers. 

Your acceptance is clear as day as you smile at him in response to his question. 

Luigi was voyaging around, trying to find a place to fit before he met you. “Yeah.” you lean up to peck his lips. 

You’ve always been drawn in by Luigi’s free spirited nature. His life long journey to learn and to be true to himself. His curiosity that enlightens your worlds. You two share those values, you just want to live. 

See, that’s where you two found common ground. You grew up in an enclosed schedule: work, school, family, and occasional fun. You desired travel and freedom. That’s something that Luigi’s been privileged enough to have. The journey to explore and seek. Something you had to work to earn was what Luigi had in a snap of a finger. He didn’t want to give that all up for the basis of a schedule he would get if he settled. 

You two were on other ends of a coin, seeking the same resolution. With Luigi, you were lucky to get that life: to live, to seek, to travel and live a comfortable life. With you, Luigi didn’t have to give up his lifelong learning, he got to live it with you. Luigi got to be himself, without feeling trapped or forced to live a life he didn’t yearn for with someone else. 

A thought dawned your mind. “How do you think your life wouldve been if you settled?” you asked curiously as the thought overcame your mind. What if he would’ve just caved and lived the life his parents or past partners would’ve held over his head? 

Your questions stuns him for a bit. It was something Luigi used to think of relentlessly and constantly. He had been close to just giving in and living the Mangione life, following his father’s footsteps, taking over the family legacy. Settling with an opulent girl from Baltimore. But, having you asking him felt different. 

Luigi exhales and smiles a bit as he already knows how it would’ve been. “Miserable. In a suit, in an office, stuck. A perfectly planned out future.” he remarks in irony, knowing it would be anything but perfect. You could feel him shudder beneath you. A bad taste in his mouth. 

You’re trying to think of it. Picturing Luigi in some parallel universe with a picture perfect wife in Baltimore and working for the countless family businesses under the Mangione name. 

“You think so?” You’d perk up. 

“Oh, honey. I know so.” Luigi exasperates out as his eyes widen slightly. He further explains his train of thought. “I can’t imagine giving up the sunsets, the sunrises, the adventures - the freedom.” 

Your heart warms at the heart to heart. Your big soft eyes looking up at him dearly and Luigi can’t seem to take his eyes off of them. 

“You know what I just realized?” Luigi speaks in a low deep voice, caressing the strands of hair by your face. 

You hum out a “hmm?” exhaling softly, your chest tightening. 

“That I’m exactly where I want to be right now.” Luigi's eyes glow, his voice softly confessing. 

Your smile grows instantly, heart fluttering, face bright. That smile, oh that smile is just confirmation for him. He feels so full. His cups are overflowing. The cups that once were drained dry are pouring. 

“This is my perfect.” he whispers and leans towards your lips. Eyes fluttering closed until -

You smile playfully. “Really? And here I was almost insecure about you living that perfect life in Maryland. Living that white privileged life with your college girlfriend in an unorthodox household.” 

You’re speaking, chuckling, talking but Luigi's face and heart torns. He completely forgot about the kiss he was leaning into. He sees your playful expression, but oh no. This is no joke to him. 

“Not here, living in this humble abode with me.” your smile falters a bit, still remaining but no longer a grin. Without even intending your heart falls a bit despite it starting off as a silly joke. 

“Baby, do you even realize how boring that life would’ve been for me?” Luigi objects seriously, a stark contrast to your joking tone. His hazel intense eyes instilled into yours, his lashes evident. Luigi searches your eyes for any hint or glint in your expression that’ll give away that you’re being serious. 

Your face softens and you can feel the way your heart breaks a little. You breathe out slowly from your nose. “I know… I know” you say barely above a whisper knowing Luigi would’ve hated it if he would’ve succumbed. Your face falls back into his chest, inevidently looking away. “I was just wondering…” you speak honestly into his collarbone.

Your tone is too low for his liking. Almost sad-like. 

Luigi looks down at you, nuzzled on top of him. Face deep into his neck as if you were trying to hide from him. But, it was just a place of comfort for you. 

Luigi’s fingers run through your hair. “What makes you wonder y/n?” Luigi asks sincerely, wanting to understand your thought process. “You think I'd be happier with someone who’s part of that world?” he utters out in a direct tone. Speaking of the materialistic world in which he grew up in. The world he’s tried so hard to move on from. The insensible table mannerisms Luigi once dreaded, a lifestyle that’s polar opposite of the one he has now. The one Luigi has created with you. The life he wouldn’t trade for the world. 

Luigi is already asking more questions before you could even answer the first one.  You exhale softly, hearing the tone of Luigi’s voice. The one he has when he needs to get to the bottom of things. Luigi’s curiosity and determination are a big part of his personality. Not to mention the care and devotion Luigi has for you. Those two mixed together aren’t something Luigi takes lightly. You just know he’s not going to let it go. Despite it just starting off as a little harmless joke. 

“It was just a thought.” you repeat into his neck, sighing. Your mind starts running with thoughts as you internally delve into his questions.

Luigi’s brows furrow and his arms simultaneously tighten around your lower waist. 

You keep your voice neutral, not wanting Luigi to take it the wrong way or make the wrong conclusions. 

“Like…” you trail off, exhaling a little sigh. You lift your face up to meet his gaze that hasn’t faltered. “What if one day this all gets boring to you?” Your voice becomes solemn at the end. Referring to the life he has with you.

 You’re aware that you’re not like the people that Luigi grew up with. Not like the girls he’s dated in the past. You didn’t attend an Ivy League, you weren’t generationally wealthy. “I mean I know you’re happy right now. But what if one day you realize that you want to go back to the big Maryland homes, live the upscale life you’ve always known. Alongside an ivy league girlfriend or an entitled Baltimore girl. Hmm?” You ask, looking directly into Luigi’s eyes. You’re describing the exact opposite of what you two have now and you’re mentioning him being with other girls. Now, that was a fucked hypothetical you threw at him. 

You were pulling at his heartstrings, Luigi doesn’t know if he should be offended or if he should question your supposed ‘wonder’. 

Luigi can’t help but ponder if you’ve been repressing these emotions. That you might be speaking from a place of unattended emotions. Was it something you stored away subconsciously? 

“Fuck no.” Luigi cuts you off sharply. His heart is beating through his chest. His brows furrowed as he looks at you. His arms tighten around you, as you’re laid on top of him. 

Luigi’s voice is firm and intense. Hurt and laced with genuine offense. Was everything you two constructed together nothing to you? 

“Is that really what you think? That one day I'm going to wake up and trade all this?” Luigi exasperates, seemingly upset. Voice laced with a hint of betrayal and acute.

You exhale deeply, looking away. Your expression softens and you feel your heart break. Face red as you feel Luigi’s agonizing gaze on you. You know Luigi’s only beginning his disquisition and you weren’t going to interrupt him. Even if you attempted, he’d want his turn to express himself before you interjected. So you’ll give it to him.

Luigi replicates your deep exhale. Looking at you with grave intensity. “Do you honestly think I would get bored of this life? Of us? This apartment may not be a mansion but it’s home because YOU are my home.” He exasperates and you can’t help but smile. Your heart flutters at his sweet words but Luigi’s eyes are looking at you like tunnel vision, making you want to hide back into his neck and take it all back. A pout takes over your eyes and lips. 

Your heart skips a beat as your ears are met with Luigi’s frustrated groan after his deep confession. You’re now feeling small and guilty on top of his chest, feeling Luigi’s arms keeping you firm and rigid against him. You take in the way he stresses and runs his grand fingers through his curly bedhead. Your smile falters as you see how your words impacted him. 

But, his words impacted you just as much. Despite Luigi’s little outburst, the corners of your lips etch up slightly and your eyes cast a soft hue. Your hands trace up Luigi’s forearm, the one where his hand is locked into his curls in distress. 

Luigi is met with your loving and appreciative smile making his spinning mind pause, breath alleviate, and frustration melt away. He exhales out, your smile calming him. Just like they always do. 

“Baby, do you see me getting bored? Do I seem unhappy?” His voice is soft and gentler now. Luigi’s soft hazel eyes dance around your visage, wanting to study you, really understand you. Looking through the portal of your soul: your eyes, to scope any lingering doubts you may have. 

You both know the answers to Luigi’s questions. There’s no doubt in your mind that he wasn’t happy or content with the life you two have. But it was just a thought, a mindless little timorous thought. 

“No.” you shake your head, speaking softly. Your response is genuine and honest. It’s clear that you both know how blessed your lives are together. The universe aligned your paths, and it’s no mistake that you two are destined to be. 

Luigi’s gaze is still skeptical. His brown-greenish eyes that scope you through his long curly eyelashes don’t go unnoticed. You pout and just let your head rest back on his chest. 

Luigi is glad he can at least still see your warm face as you lower it. You’re not hiding into his neck this time, just simply resting it over his chest. Your soft skin met with his. 

Luigi sighs and runs his hand through your hair, you two in silence. Patience and understanding filling your guys’ bedroom. His other hand rubbing the skin of your lower back, sending shivers down your body. 

“I was just thinking…” you mutter out softly, breaking the sweet silence. It’s not a harsh or pressuring silence. Luigi doesn’t emit that presence, he’s kind and considerate. He’s emotionally attuned, you both are. Which is why you two work so well together. “I’m just… not like those other girls.” 

Luigi was about to interject but you cut him off before he had a chance to. It was your turn now. 

“I’m just a regular ol’ girl.” you express, pressing your ear against his heart. The beating of Luigi’s heart against your ear makes your beating heart sync with his. “Not like those other girls from Penn or connected to wealthy families.” you softly reiterate, your voice breathing out against the skin of his pecs. 

Luigi’s lips turn into a frown, he can feel his resolve ache. It hurts the way you discredit yourself. Luigi notices how your eyes leave his, now falling to his chest. He doesn’t want you belittling yourself. You’re not like those Baltimore girls and that’s one of the many reasons why he loves you. 

“And I don’t know… I guess the thought of you being with someone from that society or class rank would… fit better?” You let out in an unsured manner. Your eyes timidly lift up to meet his eyes. Your heart skips a beat nervously as you make eye contact with him. 

Luigi’s heart clenches, he feels it still. His demeanor darkens at your admission. He cups each side of your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he tries to decipher your words.

“What you’re saying is that you think I’d be better off with my ex?” Luigi exhales as he looks at your bambied eyes. “Or, that I'd be better suited with one of those girls that are connected with my parents?” His brows furrow and his staggering eyes become soft. “Instead of you?” Luigi asks insightfully. 

He’s got you, knowing exactly how to poke at you. You exhale and shake your head. “It was just a thought. I’m not doubting myself or us.” You explain, looking into his pressing hazel orbs. You know perfectly well that nothing could compare to you and Luigi. No doubt about it but you couldn’t help but wonder. “I’m just… thinking.” You let out in a softer breathy tone. 

Luigi doesn’t still his eyesight. He’s hearing you out, trying to see where you’re coming from and where these sudden thoughts are coming from. His gaze is tense: worried. Brows interlinked, eyes serious, jaw clenched. He doesn’t want to interfere in your utterance but he will once you’re done. 

He gives you a slight nod, allowing you the silent message that he’s present and hearing you out. 

You look back down after his little nod, breaking eye contact. Instead your hand softly caresses up and down his torso. Appreciating his devotion to listening, though knowing your thoughts are silly. But they’re still your thoughts and you couldn’t ask for a better partner than Luigi to help you depict it with you.

“...Thinking of your life. If you would’ve chosen a different path than the one you’re in now. If you would’ve stayed on the path your parents would’ve wanted for you after college or if you would’ve settled with your ex-girlfriend from UPenn.” Your tone is wondrous and a bit doubtful. You could feel your heart sombering a bit, throat tensing. 

Luigi could see the sincerity in your eyes and the genuine tone in your voice. 

You hadn’t been holding onto these thoughts, no. These thoughts came in a sudden manner when you two were conversing about Luigi’s past. Luigi evokes nothing but confidence and assuredness in the relationship. He doesn’t even need to reassure you, his actions and words speak for themselves. 

You’re aware of the profound love you two share. It’s incomparable. Nothing like you two had ever experienced before and it’s endgame. Without a doubt. 

We have it all

Luigi reads you well, he sees the vulnerability in your eyes. You two are open and honest with one another. 

When studying your words and expressions, Luigi comes to the conclusion that you’re not claiming that ‘you’re not good enough’. Rather, you’re simply perceiving what you believe are his lost opportunities. 

Luigi’s heart trembles and it breaks him with the way you seem slightly dismantled. Your eyes are on his chest rather than on him. Luigi needs you to look at him, he needs to see your mien. 

Luigi’s fingers that were once splayed on your back now meet your chin. “Hey.” Luigi whispers, tilting your chin up so that you can look directly at him. “You’re overthinking this. Hard.” He affirms, eyes on yours. “You really think that I’m sitting here wishing I had that white privileged lifestyle? Ivy league wife, big house, and the country club memberships?” His voice becomes harsh as he openly expresses. Apparently he has to make it clear, he thought you already had it down. His sass coming into town because he knows that you know it too. But yet you’re here having this conversation. 

“You think that’s what I want?” He scoffs. You hiss as he tightens his grip on your chin. 

“Owww.” You deflect, knowing he’s not actually hurting you. But you’re pouting regardless, wanting to slightly steer away from the conversation. 

Luigi’s eyes are fierce and deep as they bore into yours. You know that he’s trying to instill his words deep into your brain and heart. 

Luigi observes how you’re diverting away from the conversation, you’re good at it when you want to be but he’s got you down. More than anyone in the world. 

“Answer the question, baby!” He growls, looking straight into your eyes and still holding your chin.

Your eyes fall slightly, not meeting Luigi’s eyes. Instead devoting your attention to his beauty marks on his cheeks. Your heart flutters as you hear Luigi’s tamed and serious tone. The deepness of his voice makes you tremble, in all the good ways. 

“What question?” You mumble out innocently, playing dumb. Your eyes still not brave enough to meet Luigi's fierce ones. 

Luigi glares at you instinctively, not liking how you’re deviating from his questions. “Do. You. Think. I. Want. That. Life?” He snaps, accentuating each word clearly and precisely. His voice is deep and adament. 

Luigi grabs ahold of your chin once again and lifts it up, making you look at him. Your faces now an inch apart, to the point where you feel his hot breath ghost your lips. 

He’s not mad, no. But Luigi wants to make it damn clear. He’s intense and passionate, it’s what you love about him. 

You pout out a smile, your face falling onto his chest once more. “Baby.” You whine and can’t help but nervously laugh. Wanting to end this conversation you sewed yourself. 

Luigi can’t help but smile at your reaction, his arms instinctively wrap around your waist. “You’re avoiding the question.” He mumbles out in a softer tone. Exhaling deeply into your hair. 

Your breath falls out heavily as he hasn’t let it go. But, it’s Luigi, what do you expect? 

You breathe out heavily and deeply. “Your question?” you nuzzle into his chest, hiding your face in it to steer away from his gaze. You continue to play dumb. “The one about the country club memberships and golf? Yeah, I know. You’d hate it.” You reply in a smartass tone, knowing that wasn’t his question. 

A smile on Luigi's face forms at your facetious response. He loves your witty comebacks and tone but he’s trying to be serious. Though, appreciating how you’re keeping things light. You smile as you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He reiterates in a softer tone, looking down at your hidden features against his chest. 

Finding refuge inside the crook of the neck, you lean into it again. Instinctive pout filling your facial expression, dwelling on how to reply. Staying silent for a couple seconds. You don’t even have to speak up because you know Luigi’s persistent and will retain the conversation. 

Luigi notices the way you’ve hidden into his neck again, stowing away from his words and eye contact. 

“Answer the question.” He mutters out, his masculine fingers running through your locks. His voice is firm but gentle. He knows you’re overthinking, being way over your head and your silence is killing him. He could feel the tension in his chest. 

He breathes out deeply, kissing your temple. Luigi’s lips remain on your skin for a bit. You let out a little thoughtful breath. You knew his question wasn’t about the damn country clubs. 

“No.” you let out in his neck, your voice soft and cutesy. “I know you don’t.” you exhale and speak gentle assuredness into his neck, though your sigh deflects the way you’re giving in. 

Luigi’s heart aches at your defeated tone and the way he perceives you belittling yourself. As if you’re doubting his love and the way he values you. Luigi wants you in every aspect in his life and it hurts him knowing that there could even be a small percentage of you thinking otherwise. 

He turns his face to capture your lips as you’re nestled in his neck. “Say it.” He murmurs into your lips, curating a loving, gentle kiss. 

Your heart flutters at the soft kiss. “Say what?” you ask while pursing your lips into his. Your eyes big and open as they meet his eyes. 

Luigi can’t help but smile grandly as he takes in your pouty expression. Finding it adorable despite the serious conversation. His thumb runs over your lower lip, looking at you with deep affection. “That I don’t want that life. That I want you.” Luigi affirms with firm delicacy, while his eyes bore into yours. Wanting to affirm to you that he doesn’t want that eloquent lifestyle, especially if he would feel forced to live it with the wrong partner, he wants what’s right. And you’re what’s right for him. He knows it.

“Okayyy.” your cheeks flare up at his words, heart beating fiercely against your chest. Nuzzling your forehead with his as you melt. 

Luigi nudges his nose against yours with a smile. His face lightens up at your childish expressions: your cute little voice and puppy dog eyes. 

“I want you.” Luigi proclaims once again, a charming glint in his eyes. “Not some phony, picture perfect, girl.” he exhales, already imagining a Baltimore girl his parents would’ve paired him with if they would’ve had it their way. A girl solely based on networking or to pull up a front as the next face of the Mangione empire with him. 

You hear Luigi’s insistence but for some reason you’ve let your thoughts get to your head. You lay your head on his chest with a little frown, but not hiding in his neck this time. You believed Luigi wholeheartedly but you couldn’t help being in your feels. 

You know Luigi won’t let it go until you admit it, so you barely give him what he wants. “You don’t want another girl.” You let out with a monotone expression, as if the words coming out of your mouth weren’t veritable. He hears your spoiled and attention seeking words as if he had forced them out of you. 

Bless Luigi’s patience with you because he knows how to deal with all your perks and behavioral ins and outs. He can’t help but chuckle and sit up, sitting you up with him. 

“Listen to me.” He tries to maintain his growing smile as he has caught onto your pressed lips. As much as your pouts are entertainment for Luigi, his words are serious. 

At the sound of Luigi’s tone your face falls at his persistence. “Baby.” you whine out at him, already done with the conversation but knowing he’s not letting it go. He’s too stubborn for his own good. He ignores your whines and looks down at you, locking eyes. 

His intense gaze causes your heart to flutter and cheeks to flush. “I want you.” Luigi firmly states as he grabs ahold of your calves and wraps it around his sat body. “I want you by my side. I want you to be the mother of my children.” 

You instantly melt at his affirmations. Your face lights up: your eyes, your smile, and your whole expression. You wrap your arms around your neck and get comfier atop of his lap. 

Luigi’s heart flutters as he sees the genuine and sweet smile that evades your face. A smile forming on him too as his eyes glow at the sight of you. 

“There’s my girl.” He coos and cups your face. Your stomach is filled with butterflies at the petname. “Say it.” Luigi goes on. His nose brushing against yours. You tighten your jaw as you try to hide your evident smile. Giggling escaping your lips as you fail miserably. 

“Say what?” You chuckle, feeling your skin warm up. Luigi notices the way that you try to force away your smile. He cracks a smile of his own and chuckles. Luigi tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, trying to coax out your real smile. 

“Say that you believe me. That you know I meant every word.” He murmurs into your lips, his own breath mingling with yours.

I grin as he tugs on my lips. “Hey!” I exclaim at him as he sees right through my pouts and walls. I giggle and press a kiss on his thumb. “I believe you. I believe every word.” you genuinely promise as you feel your heart warm and stomach melt. Your eyes meeting him after all. 

Luigi feels a sense of relief wash over him and his heart fills with happiness. He hugs you instantaneously, catching you off guard, pulling you in closer than before. He pulls back and you see the bright toothy grin on his face. 

He leans into your lips and presses a lingering kiss. “Good, because it’s true.” Luigi speaks into your lips, with loving eyes. 

Your smile softens and your arms remain around his neck. “Thank you baby. I know.” you appreciatively avow, leaning back into his kiss. “Thank you for everything.” you say in between kisses, while you sit on his lap. 

Luigi feels complete and relieved at your sweet reply. He nods as you two lock lips. He hears your confident response and he knows when you’re being truthful. He’s glad that you’re both on the same page. He knows you’ve never doubted him, you just needed a little reminder that he’s truly yours. He understood your train of thought. Luigi deepens your kiss as he’s proud to have you as his. 

He loves seeing you like this: happy, blushing, kissing him. 

Both of your lips pull apart, creating a smooching sound. “You can wonder about all the what ifs in the world but we both know what’s real and what’s true.” Luigi assures you as his eyes fall on yours. 

Your heart swells and you nod. Luigi notices the way your eyes soften and the way you look at him as you take in all of his words. 

“Everyday with you gets better and better.” Luigi gives you a little nod, wanting to make sure you’ve got it. His eyes never faltering but gleaming as he affirms. 

Your hands cup his face. “I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anyone else.” you express softly, your heart skipping a beat. 

Luigi smiles lovingly. “I wouldn’t either, tesoro.” he says and pecks your lips once again. “I love you my sweet girl.” 

[bratzkoo]

WGM episode 7 | dk

episode 7: photoshoot

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 2.9k~ Warnings/note: fluff, fake marriage, and real feelings. cursing, seokmin curses a lot in his head.

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and Y/N pairs up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ateez-atiny380 , @aeerio . @vernons-wifey12 , @odevote118 , @btskzfav , @codeinebelle , @syluslittlecrows, @minghaofied , @ikbennatas , @armycarat2612 , @smiileflower

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist series masterlist | previous episode | next episode

[Opening sequence: Highlights from Episode 6, showing their decoration adventure and resolved argument over the rug]

Narrator: "After successfully creating their cozy love nest, our newlyweds are taking their relationship public with a special photoshoot for a popular magazine!"

---

Seokmin sat in the makeup chair, trying not to fidget as the stylist applied what felt like the seventeenth layer of something to his face. He was no stranger to photoshoots—they were a regular part of idol life—but this was different. This was a couple photoshoot. With Y/N. For a major magazine.

The PD had informed them last week that they'd been selected as the featured couple for _Newlywed Life_ magazine's monthly spotlight. Apparently, their "We Got Married" pairing had been generating significant buzz online, with viewers particularly taken by Seokmin's impromptu wedding song and their cooking disaster turned success.

"You're very popular," the PD had said, looking smugly satisfied with the ratings. "The public is invested in your love story."

Love story. The phrase made Seokmin's stomach twist with a complicated mix of emotions. Because the problem—the increasingly undeniable problem—was that he was starting to forget this was all fabricated for television.

"You're thinking too loudly," came a familiar voice, and Seokmin's eyes flew open to see Y/N being led to the makeup chair beside his. "I can practically hear the internal screaming from across the room."

"That obvious, huh?" Seokmin asked, managing a smile despite the riot of butterflies her presence instantly triggered.

"Only to someone who's spent six episodes watching your every facial expression," Y/N replied lightly. "Your ears are also a dead giveaway. They're already turning pink."

Seokmin's hands flew up to cover his treacherous ears. "They're just... warm from the lights."

"Sure they are," Y/N teased, settling into her chair as the makeup artist began working on her. "Nothing to do with being nervous about the shoot."

"Why would I be nervous?" Seokmin asked with exaggerated innocence. "It's just a nationally distributed magazine where we'll be portrayed as a loving couple with potentially millions of people analyzing our body language and chemistry. Totally casual."

Y/N laughed, the sound still doing dangerous things to his cardiac rhythm even after all this time. "When you put it that way, it sounds completely reasonable to panic."

"I'm not panicking," Seokmin protested. "This is my calm, collected pre-panic state. The actual panicking comes later, right before the camera starts clicking."

The makeup artist working on him sighed dramatically. "Please stop making expressions while I'm trying to contour."

"Sorry," Seokmin apologized, attempting to arrange his features into a neutral mask. "I'll just sit here expressionless like a good idol."

"Impossible," Y/N commented. "You're physically incapable of having no expression. Your face has two settings: extremely animated or asleep."

"I can be stoic!" Seokmin insisted, attempting to demonstrate with what he hoped was a serious, brooding look.

Y/N burst out laughing. "You look constipated."

"Perfect!" Seokmin declared. "That's exactly the vibe I was going for in this photoshoot. 'Local idol appears constipated next to his gorgeous fake wife.' It'll be revolutionary."

Both makeup artists were now giving them exasperated looks, though Seokmin caught the whisper of "They're so cute together" from one to the other.

If only they knew the truth. Except lately, Seokmin wasn't entirely sure what the truth was anymore.

---

An hour later, they were ushered onto the set where the photographer and creative team waited. The concept, they were told, was "Domestic Bliss"—capturing the sweet, intimate moments of newlywed life.

"We want natural, authentic interactions," the photographer explained. "Forget the cameras are there. Just focus on each other."

Focus on each other. That wouldn't be difficult. Seokmin already found it nearly impossible to focus on anything else when Y/N was in the room.

She looked breathtaking in a simple white dress, her hair styled in soft waves, makeup natural and glowing. Seokmin himself had been dressed in light beige slacks and a blue button-up shirt, sleeves casually rolled to his elbows. They looked like they'd walked straight out of a romance drama.

"The first setup is in the kitchen," the photographer continued, leading them to a beautifully arranged kitchen set. "We're recreating your famous carbonara success."

Seokmin and Y/N exchanged amused looks. Their "famous" carbonara had become something of a running joke between them, with Y/N regularly texting him photos of pasta dishes she encountered with captions like "not as good as ours" or "they clearly didn't respect the egg yolks."

"Remember," the photographer said as they took their positions, "natural and intimate. Like you're cooking together on a lazy Sunday morning."

Natural and intimate. In front of fifteen crew members, three cameras, and the PD watching from the sidelines. TOTALLY NATURAL.

As the first shots began, Seokmin found himself hyper-aware of every movement, every expression. He'd done countless photoshoots before, but never one where he had to pretend to be in love with his co-star. The pressure to appear convincing was overwhelming.

"You're too stiff," the photographer called out after several shots. "Loosen up! You're supposed to be comfortable with each other."

Y/N sidled closer to Seokmin, speaking low enough that only he could hear. "Remember our actual cooking disaster? When you added enough gochujang to burn a hole through the pot?"

Despite his nerves, Seokmin laughed at the memory. "Or when you insisted that 'a pinch of salt' meant literally one pinch for the entire dish?"

"Hey, cooking instructions are unnecessarily vague," Y/N defended herself, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Perfect!" the photographer exclaimed, capturing their genuine moment of laughter. "More like that!"

And just like that, the ice was broken. As they moved through different poses—stirring a pot together, Y/N pretending to feed Seokmin a taste of something, Seokmin playfully dabbing flour on Y/N's nose—the awkwardness gradually faded. They fell into the easy rhythm they'd developed over the past few months, the banter and gentle teasing that had become second nature.

"Now let's move to the living room set," the photographer directed after they'd captured enough kitchen shots.

The living room setup was designed to look cozy and intimate, with a plush sofa, soft blankets, and warm lighting. This, Seokmin realized with a flutter of nerves, was where things would get more physically affectionate.

"For this series, we want to capture those sweet, quiet moments couples share," the photographer explained. "Reading together, cuddling, just being close."

Cuddling. The word sent a jolt through Seokmin's system. They'd maintained a careful physical distance throughout most of their filming, with only occasional hand-holding and the cheek kiss at the wedding. This would be new territory.

"Is that okay?" the photographer asked, seeming to sense their hesitation.

"Of course," Y/N replied smoothly, though Seokmin caught a hint of pink in her cheeks. "We're professionals."

Professionals. Right. This was just work. Not at all an excuse to hold Y/N close without the awkwardness of having to initiate it himself.

They settled on the couch, initially sitting with a respectable few inches between them. The photographer frowned.

"Closer," he directed. "You're supposed to be married, not strangers on a bus."

Y/N scooted closer, until their sides were pressed together. Seokmin could feel the warmth of her through his shirt, could smell her perfume—something light and floral that had become achingly familiar.

"Still too formal," the photographer sighed. "Seokmin, put your arm around her. Y/N, lean into him like he's your favorite pillow."

Oh god. This is fine. This is normal. Just a normal day pretending to cuddle with the woman you're definitely not developing real feelings for. COMPLETELY FINE.

Seokmin carefully placed his arm around Y/N's shoulders, hyperaware of every point of contact between them. She hesitated for just a moment before relaxing against him, her head finding a spot against his shoulder that somehow felt perfectly natural, as if they'd sat this way a hundred times before.

"Much better," the photographer approved. "Now look at each other like you're sharing a secret."

They turned their faces toward each other, and Seokmin's breath caught in his throat. Y/N was so close—close enough that he could see the individual flecks of color in her eyes, the slight imperfections in her makeup that only made her more beautiful. For a moment, he forgot about the cameras, the crew, the pretense of it all.

"Hi," Y/N whispered, a small, almost shy smile playing at her lips.

"Hi," Seokmin whispered back, momentarily lost in the unreality of the moment.

"Perfect!" the photographer exclaimed, the camera clicking rapidly. "That connection! Hold that!"

Connection. Was it still acting when it felt this real?

They moved through several more poses on the couch—Y/N reading a book while Seokmin looked over her shoulder, both of them laughing over something on a prop tablet, Seokmin pretending to play with Y/N's hair while she closed her eyes in contentment. With each setup, the initial awkwardness faded further, replaced by a comfortable intimacy that scared Seokmin with how natural it felt.

"Last set," the photographer announced. "The bedroom."

Seokmin nearly choked on air. "B-bedroom?"

"Nothing inappropriate," the photographer clarified quickly, catching their expressions. "Just morning coffee in bed, maybe looking at a laptop together. Wholesome newlywed stuff."

The bedroom set was tastefully arranged with plush white bedding, soft pillows, and warm lighting. Despite the photographer's assurances, Seokmin felt his heart rate spike at the thought of being in bed—any bed, even a prop one—with Y/N.

"Shoes off," the photographer directed. "And get comfortable against the headboard."

Seokmin slipped off his shoes and cautiously climbed onto the bed, hyperaware of every crease he made in the perfectly arranged comforter. Y/N followed, settling beside him with what appeared to be casual ease, though he noticed her careful maintenance of a few inches of space between them.

"Perfect. Now, Y/N, lean against Seokmin's chest. Seokmin, one arm around her while you both look at this laptop."

This is fine. Just work. Professional actors being professional. The fact that my heart is about to beat out of my chest is completely unrelated to anything happening right now.

Y/N shifted, leaning back against him tentatively. Seokmin wrapped an arm around her waist, trying to appear natural while fighting the urge to either freeze completely still or pull her closer.

"Relax," the photographer called. "You look like you're posing with a mannequin, not your wife."

Y/N turned her head slightly to whisper to him. "Your heart is racing. Are you okay?"

She could feel his heartbeat. Of course she could. She was pressed against his chest.

"Just... warm under these lights," Seokmin lied poorly.

"Mmhmm," Y/N hummed skeptically, but she mercifully didn't push the issue.

Instead, she surprised him by fully relaxing against him, her body softening as she sank more naturally into his embrace. The gesture of trust—even if just for the cameras—made something warm bloom in his chest.

"There we go," the photographer approved. "Now look at something on the laptop together—like you're planning a trip or reminiscing about photos."

They pretended to scroll through vacation destinations, making genuine comments about places they'd each like to visit someday. The conversation flowed easily, almost making Seokmin forget they were being photographed.

"Last few shots," the photographer announced. "Looking at each other, like you've just woken up and you're happy to see each other's faces."

They set the laptop aside and turned toward each other. In this position, lying on their sides facing one another, the intimacy was undeniable. There was nowhere to hide, no way to create distance without being obvious.

Y/N's eyes met his, soft and warm in the golden lighting. She smiled—not her camera smile or her professional smile, but something smaller and more genuine that made Seokmin's chest ache with longing.

"Just like that," the photographer said softly, the camera clicking gently in the background. "Perfect."

For a suspended moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, looking at each other with an honesty that transcended the artifice of their situation.

Then the photographer called, "That's a wrap!" and reality came rushing back in.

---

Later, as they changed back into their regular clothes and removed the layers of makeup, Seokmin found himself struggling to regain his emotional equilibrium. The shoot had felt too real, too close to the feelings he was desperately trying to keep contained.

"That was... something," Y/N said as they waited for the PD to finish discussing details with the magazine staff.

"Yeah," Seokmin agreed eloquently, still not fully trusting himself to speak normally.

"You were really good," she continued. "Very natural. I almost believed we were actually married at some points."

Seokmin tried to laugh, but it came out slightly strangled. "All those performance classes finally paying off."

Y/N gave him a curious look, something unreadable in her expression. "Right. Performance."

Before she could say more, the PD approached them. "Great work today! The magazine loved the shots. They want one more thing, though—a couple selca taken by you two for their social media."

"We can handle that," Y/N said, pulling out her phone. "We're practically selca experts at this point."

They positioned themselves against a plain wall, Y/N holding the phone out in front of them. Seokmin automatically put his arm around her shoulders, the gesture now familiar after hours of similar poses.

"Smile!" Y/N directed, but just before she took the photo, she turned and pressed a quick, light kiss to Seokmin's cheek.

The resulting photo captured his perfect look of surprised delight, eyes wide and a brilliant smile breaking across his face as Y/N kissed his cheek with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"That'll get the fans talking," she said casually, showing the photo to the PD, who approved enthusiastically.

"Definitely using that one," the PD agreed. "Great initiative!"

As the PD walked away, Seokmin touched his cheek where Y/N had kissed him. "A little warning next time?" he asked, aiming for teasing but landing closer to breathless.

"Where's the fun in that?" Y/N replied with a smile. "Your genuine reactions are always the best."

For the show, Seokmin reminded himself. It was all for the show. The kiss, the closeness, the casual affection—just creating content for the viewers, feeding the narrative of their fake marriage.

So why did it feel so real?

---

That evening, as Seokmin arrived back at the dorm, he found several of his members gathered in the common area, clearly waiting for him.

"How was the couple photoshoot?" Jeonghan asked with a knowing smirk.

"Fine," Seokmin replied, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. "Very professional. Normal workday."

"Then why are your ears the color of kimchi?" Seungkwan observed mercilessly.

"It's hot outside," Seokmin protested weakly.

"It's literally raining and 15 degrees," Joshua pointed out.

Seokmin groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "I'm not discussing this."

"Discussing what?" Mingyu asked innocently. "Your completely professional, not-at-all-emotionally-complicated relationship with your fake wife?"

"Exactly that," Seokmin confirmed, throwing an arm over his face. "Nothing to discuss because it's just work."

There was a moment of suspicious silence before his phone buzzed with a notification. Automatically, he pulled it out to check.

It was from Y/N—the selca they'd taken, now posted on the magazine's Instagram account with the caption: "Love is in the air! Exclusive couple photoshoot with #WeGotMarried's favorite newlyweds coming in our next issue! #RelationshipGoals"

The members, who had naturally crowded around to see his phone, erupted in a chorus of teasing sounds.

"Just work, huh?" Hoshi said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"That's called method acting," Seokmin insisted, even as his ears burned hotter. "Creating content for the viewers."

"Method acting usually stops when the cameras turn off," Woozi pointed out unhelpfully. "That kiss looks pretty genuine to me."

"It was for the photo!"

"Keep telling yourself that," Jeonghan said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "But maybe start thinking about what happens when the show ends."

When the show ends. The thought sent a chill through Seokmin that he wasn't prepared to examine.

Later that night, alone in his room, he found himself staring at the selca again. Y/N looked so natural beside him, so right. The casual affection of her kiss, the genuine surprise and happiness on his face—it didn't look staged or performed. It looked... real.

His phone buzzed with a new message.

Y/N: Magazine editor says we "have amazing chemistry" and wants to feature us in next month's issue too. We must be better actors than we thought.

Actors. Right. That's all this was.

Seokmin: My years of variety show training are finally paying off.

Y/N: The cheek kiss was genius, if I do say so myself. #ContentCreation

Seokmin: Very sneaky. Didn't peg you for the surprise attack type.

Y/N: There's a lot you still don't know about me, fake husband. 😉

That winking emoji would be the death of him.

Seokmin: Looking forward to discovering all your sneaky tactics over the next few episodes.

Y/N: Be prepared. I'm full of surprises.

Seokmin set his phone down, a complicated mix of emotions swirling in his chest. With each episode, each text, each moment spent together, the line between reality and pretend was becoming increasingly blurred. The problem wasn't that he couldn't tell the difference anymore.

The problem was that he didn't want to.

[urdreamydoodles]

can you maybe do a gambit x fem!reader when the reader is sick? I got covid rn and I love ur stories

Remy LeBeau x Sick!Reader

How is Remy when you are sick

When you're feeling under the weather, Remy LeBeau becomes your devoted caretaker, taking it upon himself to bring warmth and comfort into your home, despite his usual laid-back demeanor.

Remy is my beloved, thank you for this request. I hope you like it!

- The moment Remy realizes you’re feeling under the weather, he drops everything to be by your side. You barely need to ask him for help—he's already pulling out blankets, fluffing pillows, and making sure you're as comfortable as possible. Despite his usual carefree nature, he’s immediately serious and focused when it comes to taking care of you.

- Remy insists on bringing you everything you could possibly need, from medicine to warm tea. He remembers every little detail you've ever mentioned about what helps you feel better and makes sure to include all of them. When he can’t find what he’s looking for, he’ll go out of his way to get it, even if it means driving across town.

- One of Remy's biggest strengths is his ability to make you laugh, and he brings out all his best jokes and impressions to lift your spirits. He can’t stand seeing you look so miserable, so he tries his hardest to distract you with his endless charm and humor. His Cajun accent seems to thicken whenever he tells a story, and he knows exactly how to use it to make you smile, even through your sniffles.

- Though Remy isn’t the best chef, he tries his hand at cooking your favorite comfort foods. He’ll follow recipes carefully, but there’s always a hint of his playful side in the kitchen, like sneaking in a dash of extra spice or cracking a joke while he stirs a pot. He’s surprisingly attentive, watching closely to see if his cooking lifts your mood, and he’s secretly thrilled if you enjoy even a single bite.

- Remy is endlessly attentive, always checking if you need more blankets, another glass of water, or a different type of tea. His nurturing side, rarely seen by others, shines through in small gestures. He doesn’t just sit around either; he’s constantly on his feet, looking for ways to help or checking the temperature to ensure you’re comfortable. His attentiveness makes you feel cherished and cared for, like there’s nothing more important to him than seeing you get well.

- He’ll sit beside you on the bed or couch, reading aloud from a book or comic, trying to distract you from how sick you feel. He reads in a variety of silly voices, especially for the characters, getting into it with exaggerated gestures and facial expressions. His storytelling pulls you into another world, making you forget about your discomfort for a little while.

- Remy’s touch is always gentle when you’re feeling sick. Normally, he’s a flirt, playful and mischievous, but he knows exactly when to dial it down and be comforting. He’ll hold your hand, gently rub your back, or press a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you feel a deep sense of safety and love with him by your side.

- To help you sleep better, Remy hums a soft, soothing tune in that low, rich voice of his. It’s a lullaby he remembers from his childhood, sung to him by his mother, and he hums it gently, hoping it will bring you comfort too. The melody is soft and tender, calming your racing mind and lulling you into a restful sleep.

- Remy is incredibly patient with you, especially when you’re feeling irritable or uncomfortable. He understands that being sick makes you feel vulnerable, and he’s more than willing to handle any grumpiness or complaints. If you snap at him in a moment of frustration, he just gives you a warm smile and brushes it off, assuring you that he knows you’re just not feeling well.

- Every so often, Remy will surprise you with a small gift to lift your spirits—a flower he found, a funny little trinket, or even a card he made himself. His gifts are never extravagant, but they’re full of thought and care. Each one reminds you of his affection and makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world to have someone who goes to such lengths just to make you smile.

- As you start to feel better, Remy teases you lightly, saying that he must be an incredible nurse if you’re already on the mend. He’ll exaggerate his own heroic efforts, making you laugh as he recounts the dramatic lengths he went to just to ensure your comfort. His humor is infectious, making the lingering traces of your illness feel far less significant.

- When you’re finally able to sit up and move around, Remy insists on celebrating your “recovery” with something special, like a picnic in a park or a cozy night in with your favorite movies. He’s as energetic as ever, eager to make up for the days when you were stuck in bed. His excitement is contagious, and it makes you feel like your health is something to celebrate.

- Even after you’re fully recovered, Remy keeps an extra-close eye on you, still checking in with the same attentive care he showed while you were sick. He can’t help it; you’re too important to him. Any little sniffle has him on alert, ready to swoop in and care for you at a moment’s notice. His devotion doesn’t waver, and you know you’ll always have a steady, loving presence by your side in Remy.