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won4kiss · 19 days ago

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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────THE BEST GIFTS AREN’T UNDER THE TREE.

୨୧ SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon don’t exactly get along. you’re coworkers who seem to have nothing in common— polar opposties. he’s the polished guy from a wealthy family, while you’re just trying to make ends meet and keep your personal life private. but when an awkward run-in at the pharmacy reveals more about your struggles than you ever wanted anyone to know—maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought—maybe the person who drives you the craziest might just be the one who gets you best.

୨୧ PAiRING. enemy! park sunghoon x fem! reader, rich!sunghoon x not very rich! reader, type 1 diabetic! reader.

୨୧ GENRE. office romance, enemies to lovers, fluff & christmas romcom hallmark movie themed, minimal angst.

୨୧ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, yn is a little mean.. type 1 diabetes mentioned, struggles with money, ignorant hoon, not proofread.

୨୧ WORD COUNT. 8,106 / 8.1K

𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕ last christmas, wham. it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, michael bublé. you’re so vain, carly simon. unwritten, natasha bedingfield. suburban house, holly macve, ldr. just the way you are, bruno mars. can’t help falling in love, elvis presley.

NOTE. i know it’s a bit early.. but i literally couldn’t help myself i love love love christmas!! 🤓☝️thank u guys for the support on the teaser <3 i strongly recommend reading it before u begin this!! enjoy hehe ^-^

THE OFFICE FELT ALIVE WITH THE PULSE OF CHRISTMAS.

fairy lights draped the edges of cubicle walls, casting warm hues across the room, and garlands hung over doorways, filling the space with a faint hint of pine scent.

the air had an almost electric feel—holiday music blasted softly from someone’s desk speaker, and laughter echoed from the kitchen, where the holiday potluck was in full swing. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

you took it all in with a quiet sense of satisfaction, enjoying the warmth of the season.

for a few minutes, at least, the festive atmosphere helped you push aside the stress and exhaustion that had weighed on you lately.

financial strain and the challenges of managing your type 1 diabetes were constant pressures, but they were your private burdens, things you carried alone.

here, in the office, you could leave them behind, escape reality—or at least pretend to.

with a sigh, you pulled your scarf off and hung it by your desk, feeling the familiar vibration of your blood glucose monitor.

you checked the reading—steady, for now.

relief was brief, though, as you were quickly reminded of the pharmacy bill due at the end of the month, a larger sum that had grown even more unreachable since your insurance provider had started making cuts.

“hey! finally decided to show up?” a smooth voice cut through your thoughts, laced with the perfect blend of mischief and a hint of mockery.

you turned to see park sunghoon, leaning against the divider between your desks with his signature smirk.

he was dressed in a no doubt expensive, tailored coat, his dark hair disheveled in that way that looked both casual and wealthy.

sunghoon’s presence was an unmistakable reminder that you were, as always, worlds apart.

“yes, i thought i’d take pity and show my face,” you shot back, crossing your arms with an eye-roll. “wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable doing all the work without me.”

“oh, please. like i’d ever let you have all the credit,” he said, grinning as he pushed himself off the desk.

sunghoon’s wealth was an open secret around the office, though he rarely discussed it openly.

still, the designer clothing, the luxury watches, and the effortless way he carried himself spoke volumes.

he was someone who had grown up with privilege in a way you could barely fathom, and sometimes, it felt almost as if he enjoyed reminding you of it.

it was always little jabs, little comments—things he likely didn’t realize cut deeper than intended.

you let out a sigh, unwilling to let him get under your skin today, especially when the holidays usually put you in a good mood.

ignoring his stare, you logged into your computer and prepared for the day’s tasks, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

but sunghoon didn’t move. instead, he watched you, brows slightly raised, as if daring you to keep ignoring him.

finally, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

“so, what’d you bring for the potluck? or is this going to be another year of pretending you’re too busy to participate?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

you bristled, annoyance prickling at your skin.

sunghoon didn’t know, of course, that you’d barely managed to scrape together enough for groceries this week, let alone something special for the potluck—but his words hit a sore spot nonetheless.

“not that it’s any of your business,” you replied with gritted teeth, meeting his gaze, “but i’ve been a little… preoccupied with other things.”

“oh? too busy for christmas spirit, mrs. grinch?” his smirk softened just a little, but the teasing tone remained. “how tragic. i can’t imagine a holiday without going all out.”

“yeah, well, maybe some of us have other priorities.”

he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his expression—you could tell he was on the brink of pushing further, maybe digging into what those priorities might be, but before he could, a group of coworkers filed into the room, breaking the tension between you.

after a few hours of emails and spreadsheets, you slipped away for a quick break, heading to the break room.

as you made your way down the hall, you thought about the other expenses coming up—the overdue pharmacy bill, the rent check, and the dozens of smaller costs that added up so fast it felt impossible to keep up.

you’d learned to carry these worries quietly.

no one in the office had ever seen you let your guard down, and you’d grown so used to putting on a brave face that sometimes you believed it yourself.

in the break room, you reached into your bag, pulling out a small protein bar that would have to suffice as lunch.

you barely had time to take a bite before the door swung open, and sunghoon strolled in, his presence instantly filling the small room.

“skipping lunch again?” he asked, nodding at the protein bar in your hand.

you raised an eyebrow. “i could say the same. didn’t peg you for the protein-bar type.”

“oh, please.” he scoffed, moving to grab a coffee pod.

“i just had a massive breakfast. unlike some people, i actually know how to treat myself during the holidays.”

“congrats on the life of luxury,” you muttered, feeling your patience fray.

he chuckled, missing the edge in your voice—or, worse, choosing to ignore it. “well, it’s not for everyone.”

there was something almost infuriating in how casually he threw these little remarks around, as if it were a game.

you often wondered if he had any idea how privileged he sounded or if he was simply so wrapped up in his world that he couldn’t see beyond it.

you hated to admit it, but sometimes his comments stung. deeply.

“you know,” he continued, oblivious, “they’re setting up for the secret santa exchange in the main lobby. you could still join in if you want to spread some christmas cheer.”

you felt the words bubbling up before you could stop them. “not all of us can afford to ‘spread christmas cheer’ the way you do, sunghoon.”

a flicker of confusion crossed his face, and his casual demeanor faltered for a second.

you’d been careful not to reveal much about your personal life, but his relentless teasing had chipped away at your patience.

you could see him trying to piece together what you meant, his smirk fading as he observed you, perhaps noticing the hint of frustration in your expression.

but before he could press further, you gathered your things and left the break room, feeling his eyes on your back as you made your way down the hall.

the week had dragged on, filled with deadlines and holiday preparations you barely had the energy for.

by thursday evening, you’d almost forgotten about the refill you needed at the pharmacy.

but when the notification popped up on your phone—prescription ready for pickup—your stomach twisted.

the monthly pharmacy trip was always a grim reminder of the costs that piled up faster than you could manage.

you entered the pharmacy, still in your work clothes, feeling a familiar combination of dread and fatigue.

the fluorescent lights felt harsh after a long day, casting everything in an unflattering glare.

you waited in line, trying to keep your anxiety at bay, telling yourself that it would be okay.

when you reached the counter, the pharmacist handed over the medication with a sympathetic look.

“i’m sorry, y/n..” she said quietly, glancing down at her screen. “your insurance isn’t covering this anymore. the total comes to… $600.”

the number hit you like a punch. “six hundred?” you echoed, barely able to keep the shock from your voice.

“yes, unfortunately,” she said, her expression softening. “would you like to speak to someone in billing about options?”

you swallowed hard, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

behind you, a couple of people had joined the line, their eyes on you, and you could sense their impatience.

the pressure made it hard to think, and you fumbled for words, barely able to keep from breaking down. “i… i didn’t realize it would be that high.”

your hands trembled as you reached for your wallet, counting bills that would barely make a dent.

you felt the weight of judgment pressing down, and the frustration of the week boiled over into a feeling of helplessness.

in that moment, the walls you’d built so carefully began to crack—suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“here, i’ve got it.”

you whipped around to see sunghoon, standing just behind you, his expression unreadable.

he held out his card to the cashier, his hand steady, his tone calm. the same calmness you often found infuriating—but now it felt like salt in a wound.

“no!” you blurted, voice louder than you intended. “sunghoon, i don’t need—”

he didn’t look at you, simply held his card out closer to the cashier, who accepted it with a nod.

the transaction beeped through, a small, simple sound that shattered any hope you had of holding onto your pride.

you took a shaky breath, trying to process what had just happened.

the thought of owing sunghoon money—let alone having him swoop in like some hero—made you feel nauseous.

sunghoon handed you the medication bag without a word, his expression unreadable, almost neutral.

but his silence only fueled the resentment bubbling inside you.

“thanks,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze, gripping the bag tightly in your hands.

as soon as you stepped outside the pharmacy, the freezing winter air hit your face, jolting you back to reality.

sunghoon followed, catching up to you in a few strides.

his voice was calm but edged with something sharper, something you couldn’t quite place.

“you’re welcome, by the way,” he said, a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone.

you stopped abruptly, turning to face him, anger flaring up despite the chill that seeped into your bones.

“i didn’t ask you to help me, sunghoon. i really don’t need your charity.”

he scoffed, crossing his arms. “it’s not charity. i was just helping. or is that too difficult for you to accept?”

the words stung—you looked down, heart racing as you struggled to find the right response.

“you don’t get it. you don’t understand what it’s like to need help,” you said quietly, but there was a weight to your words that hung in the air between you.

sunghoon blinked, surprised by the intensity in your tone.

for a brief second, he seemed taken aback, as if realizing for the first time that there were layers to your life he’d never even thought to consider.

but just as quickly, he recovered, his expression hardening.

“maybe i don’t understand,” he said, voice low. “but i was only trying to be a good friend—you clearly needed my help.”

the word “friend” felt heavy, like it didn’t belong.

you’d spent so much time bickering with him, pushing each other’s buttons, that the idea of friendship felt foreign.

“we were never friends, sunghoon,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. “not really.”

his face fell, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to see the disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

he didn’t respond, didn’t argue back. he just stood there, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and simmering emotions.

with a sigh, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone under the dim streetlights.

the next morning, you arrived at the office feeling drained, the argument replaying in your mind like a loop you couldn’t escape.

you’d spent the entire night wrestling with guilt, shame, and confusion.

as much as you hated to admit it, sunghoon had only been trying to help.

maybe his actions felt patronizing, but it wasn’t entirely his fault—you hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about your struggles, either.

you spotted him near the coffee station, and your heart thudded in your chest.

he looked up as you approached, his expression carefully blank, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“hey,” you began, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “about last night… i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

he looked at you for a moment, studying your face, and you felt the tension ease slightly as a hint of a smile softened his expression.

“apology accepted,” he replied, a glimmer of his usual playfulness returning. “besides, if i can’t handle a little yelling, i shouldn’t be hanging around you, should i?”

you laughed, surprised by how much lighter you felt. “guess not.”

for the rest of the morning, there was a shift in the air between you and sunghoon.

it was subtle, but the tension had softened into something different, something… more understanding.

sunghoon seemed to go out of his way to avoid his usual teasing, and you found yourself appreciating the small moments of consideration—like when he quietly handed you a cup of coffee during a long meeting, or when he offered to take on part of a six page report without asking.

a few days later, the two of you were assigned to a client project that required an off-site visit to the city’s holiday market.

the market was bustling with vendors selling everything from handmade ornaments to spiced apple cider, and festive christmas music filled the air as fairy lights wrapped around pine trees twinkled in every direction.

you walked side by side through the crowds, the cold biting at your cheeks, but the festive atmosphere was infectious.

for once, sunghoon’s competitive edge had softened, replaced by a mutual sense of respect that felt unexpectedly natural.

he paused by a stall selling candied nuts, grinning as he handed you a small bag. “try these—they’re amazing.”

the warmth from the roasted nuts seeped into your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tasted one. “not bad,” you admitted, savoring the sweetness.

he watched you with a soft, almost unreadable expression, his eyes warm in the glow of the holiday lights. “see? i knew i could get you into the christmas spirit.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heat up, and for once, you couldn’t blame the cold.

“maybe christmas isn’t so bad,” you conceded, though your tone was playful.

you spent the afternoon walking through the market, sharing laughs and stories, with sunghoon’s usual arrogance replaced by a gentle charm that you weren’t familiar with.

there was something tender in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, and you found yourself stealing glances when he wasn’t looking, wondering if maybe—maybe there was more to him than you’d realized.

the following weeks felt different—lighter, and even with the temperatures dropping even more—it felt unusually warmer.

where there had been tension, there was now an unspoken truce between you and sunghoon.

you’d catch his eye across the room and find a small, almost conspiratorial smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he, too, felt this strange new dynamic between you.

sunghoon’s teasing didn’t completely vanish, but it softened, became something that almost felt like an inside joke between the two of you.

and you found yourself… laughing. a lot. his wit was sharp, his timing impeccable, and his presence that you once found insufferable was now strangely comforting.

one snowy december morning, you arrived at your desk to find a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on top of your keyboard.

you looked around, half-expecting to see sunghoon lurking nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

the gift wasn’t anything fancy—just a small pack of flavored coffee pods with a tiny note attached in his precise handwriting:

“for when the cafeteria coffee just isn’t enough. -s”

a smile spread across your face, and you felt an unexpected warmth bloom in your chest.

you didn’t know what surprised you more—that he’d noticed your disdain for the cafeteria’s bitter coffee, or that he’d gone out of his way to do something about it.

the gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it felt like a piece of kindness slipped through his carefully maintained armor.

later that day, when you saw him passing by, you couldn’t help but hold up the box and call out, “you know, bribery is illegal in this office.”

he raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a smirk.

“consider it a professional courtesy. can’t have you grumbling about the coffee all day and distracting everyone with your complaints.”

“oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes—but you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling that warmth settle even deeper.

sunghoon was watching you, something soft and thoughtful in his gaze, and for a moment, the whole world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

the holiday season meant long hours at the office, with tight deadlines and clients demanding year-end reports.

you and sunghoon found yourselves frequently the last ones to leave, working side by side in the glow of your computer screens as the office grew quiet around you.

one evening, you’d both stayed late, trying to wrap up a particularly demanding project.

your head was pounding, and you absentmindedly massaged your temples, eyes closed, when you heard the quiet thud of something being set down on your desk.

opening your eyes, you found sunghoon standing there, holding out a cup of tea.

“it’s not coffee,” he said, with a small, awkward smile. “but it’s supposed to help with headaches.”

surprised, you took the cup, feeling your fingers brush his briefly. “thank you,” you murmured, the warmth of the tea seeping through your fingers and into your skin.

you weren’t sure what to make of this new, considerate sunghoon—the same man who once enjoyed riling you up now seemed to be going out of his way to make you feel… cared for.

he didn’t leave, just watched you as you took a sip, his gaze holding a softness that made your heart flutter.

for a moment, you forgot the rivalry, forgot the teasing and the jabs.

all you saw was sunghoon, standing there with a quiet, almost hesitant expression, as if he, too, was trying to understand what was happening between you.

when he finally looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

the silence hung heavy with words left unsaid, and as he walked back to his desk, you felt a strange longing settle in your chest—a longing that surprised and confused you in equal measure.

a week before christmas, the company sent you and sunghoon out to oversee a local holiday event as part of a charity initiative.

the city was sparkling with lights, carols, and people bundled in scarves and coats, laughing and chattering as they browsed the decorated stalls.

snow had started to fall, dusting the sidewalks in soft white powder.

“stick with me,” sunghoon said, giving you a wink as he led the way through the crowd. “we wouldn’t want you to get lost in the holiday rush.”

“oh, please,” you retorted, rolling your eyes—but you fell into step beside him, the easy banter warming you against the chilly air.

you wandered through the market together, occasionally stopping to admire handcrafted ornaments or taste samples of hot peppermint chocolate.

sunghoon even bought you a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman, holding it out with a shy grin.

“it’s not much,” he said, as if embarrassed by the simplicity of it.

“it’s perfect,” you replied, surprised by how genuine your own smile felt.

you took a bite, savoring the sweetness, while sunghoon watched you with an expression that made your heart flutter.

as you made your way through the crowd, you felt his hand brush against yours, a barely-there touch that sent a thrill down your spine.

you glanced up at him, half-expecting a smirk, but his expression was serious, his gaze focused on you in a way that made your heart race.

for a few beats, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the bustling market fading into the background.

sunghoon’s gaze held yours, intense and unwavering, and you felt a strange, almost magnetic pull between you.

you didn’t realize how close you were standing until someone bumped into you from behind, breaking the moment.

sunghoon quickly reached out to steady you, his hand firm and reassuring on your arm.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his hand on your arm. “yeah, i’m fine. thanks.”

he didn’t let go right away, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, just for a second, savoring the warmth and closeness.

when he finally released you, his fingers lingered just a moment too long, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake.

as the evening wound down, you found yourselves standing at the edge of the market, watching the snow fall softly around you.

the streetlights casted a dim, yellow warm glow over the scene, and you could see your breath mingling with his in the chilly air.

sunghoon shifted beside you, his expression unreadable. “you know, i never thought we’d actually get along,” he admitted, his tone quiet, almost hesitant.

“me neither,” you replied, feeling a strange, bittersweet ache in your chest. “guess it took the holidays to bring out the best in us.”

he chuckled softly, but there was something melancholy in his smile. “maybe. or maybe it just took us actually… seeing each other.”

the words hung heavy in the air, their meaning lingering between you.

for the first time, you realized that he hadn’t just been teasing you all those months—maybe he’d been reaching out, trying to connect in the only way he knew how.

and maybe… maybe you’d been doing the same.

the snow continued to fall, soft and silent, as you stood together in a moment that felt suspended in time.

the following monday, you walked into the office to find an unusual hyper buzz in the air.

coworkers were whispering, exchanging knowing looks, and as you made your way to your desk, you could feel their curious glances following you.

“what’s going on?” you finally asked one of your coworkers, trying to ignore the strange, uneasy feeling building in your stomach.

your coworker glanced at you, clearly excited to spill the news. “oh, didn’t you hear? sunghoon’s engaged! his family announced it over the weekend. isn’t that amazing?”

the words hit you like a slap—for a moment, you could only stare, the world tilting around you as the reality sank in.

engaged. park sunghoon was… engaged?

somehow, you managed to keep your composure, nodding along and murmuring something that sounded like congratulations.

but inside, you felt like your heart had been stepped on and crushed into a thousand pieces.

you hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to mean to you until that moment, until the possibility of him slipping out of your life loomed in front of you.

the warmth, the stolen glances, the lingering touches—they all felt like illusions now, shattered by the cold reality of his engagement.

and as the days passed, you found yourself pulling away, avoiding him, unable to face the ache that had settled in your chest.

you convinced yourself it was for the best, that distancing yourself would make it easier.

but each time you caught a glimpse of him—sitting at his desk, laughing with a coworker, or glancing your way with a confused expression—the pain flared, sharp and unyielding.

the annual company christmas party was an elaborate affair held at a high-end hotel ballroom, decked out with garlands, chandeliers wrapped in fairy lights, and a massive christmas tree in the center of the room.

you arrived alone, shivering as the chilly air picked at your bare arms—nerves prickling as you took in the festive crowd of coworkers mingling, laughing, and toasting to the holiday season.

you’d done your best to dress up, but an unmistakable heaviness clung to you—the weight of sunghoon’s engagement lingered, even after avoiding him—you couldn’t escape the haunting of park sunghoon.

you hadn’t spoken to him in days, going out of your way to avoid his attempts to talk.

he’d noticed, of course. the confused glances, the way his brow furrowed when he caught sight of you hurrying out of a room—those small, unspoken moments were like daggers, deepening the ache in your chest.

it hurt more than you’d thought possible, this distance, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

tonight, the ballroom was filled with the sounds of holiday classics, the gentle clinking of glasses, and the murmur of cheerful conversations.

you pushed your way through the crowd, greeting coworkers and accepting the occasional compliment, but your mind kept wandering, searching for him against your better judgment.

when you finally saw him, standing near the christmas tree in a tailored dark suit, your heart twisted painfully.

he looked… incredible, polished and confident as always, but there was something else in his eyes—a tension, a restlessness that you couldn’t place.

he was surrounded by a small group of colleagues, but he seemed distracted, his gaze scanning the room as if looking for someone.

you turned quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, and tried to lose yourself in the crowd.

but even as you made small talk with your coworkers, your attention kept drifting back to him, your heart stubbornly refusing to let go.

at some point in the evening, the lights dimmed, and the band began playing a slow, romantic melody.

a coworker you barely knew approached you, a friendly smile on his face as he offered his hand. “care for a dance?”

the last thing you wanted was to be dragged onto the dance floor, but the thought of standing alone, surrounded by the sight of happy couples, felt worse.

you accepted, letting him guide you to the center of the room.

the music was soft and gentle, filling the room like a quiet whisper—your dance partner was polite, talking amiably as you swayed to the music, but you barely heard a word he said.

your gaze drifted, unbidden, toward sunghoon. he was watching you, his expression hidden in shadow, but you could see the pain in his eyes—a pain that mirrored your own.

for a moment, everything else faded away.

the ballroom, the music, the dozens of people around you—all of it blurred into the background as you met his gaze.

it was a single, suspended moment, one that hung heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the secrets you’d kept bottled up.

sunghoon’s expression was raw, his eyes shining with an intensity that left you breathless.

he looked… devastated, as if the sight of you dancing with someone else was tearing him apart.

a flicker of hope sparked in your heart, but you quickly quashed it, reminding yourself that he was engaged.

and yet… the look in his eyes felt so real, so heartbreakingly genuine, that you almost believed he cared as deeply as you did.

when the song ended, you quickly excused yourself from your dance partner, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

you retreated to the side of the room, fighting to steady your breath as you chugged a glass of champagne, all while trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.

moments later, the ceo stepped up to the front of the room, tapping the microphone and quieting the crowd.

he began his speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and loyalty over the past year, his words filled with the usual corporate platitudes.

you listened half-heartedly, your mind elsewhere, still reeling from the intensity of sunghoon’s gaze.

as the ceo’s speech drew to a close, he turned to sunghoon with a broad smile.

“and of course, we can’t end this night without congratulating our very own park sunghoon on his recent engagement!”

a round of applause erupted, and all eyes turned to sunghoon—he stood there, looking cornered, his face a mix of frustration and anguish as he glanced out at the crowd, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, but it was enough for you to see the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the longing, and something deeper, something desperate.

the applause began to fade, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room as everyone waited for him to respond.

you held your breath, watching as he took a deep, steadying breath and then lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally resting on you.

“i… i have something to say,” he began, his voice trembling just slightly, though he tried to mask it with a steady, confident tone. “my parents may have announced an engagement, but i… i can’t go through with it.”

a collective gasp rippled through the crowd, murmurs breaking out as people exchanged shocked glances.

sunghoon held his ground, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your heart pounding wildly, your entire body frozen as his words sank in.

“i can’t go through with it,” he continued, his voice stronger now, filled with a conviction that made your chest ache. “because… because i’m in love with someone else.”

his words echoed in the silence, hanging in the air like a confession to the whole world—the room was utterly still, every eye fixed on him, but he seemed oblivious to them all, focused solely on you.

your breath caught, and you felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over you, mingled with a wild, desperate hope.

sunghoon took a step closer towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

“i’m in love with you, y/n. i’ve been so in love with you—for longer than i want to admit.”

the entire room was staring now, but all you could see was him.

your heart raced, your mind whirling as you struggled to process what he’d just said—part of you wanted to run, to escape the weight of all those eyes on you, but another part, a larger part, wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his arms.

but it was all too much—the crowd, the confession, the overwhelming emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

without another word, you turned and fled, pushing your way through the stunned crowd, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

the cold air hit you like a slap, shocking your senses and grounding you just enough to keep you from collapsing under the weight of it all.

you were barely halfway down the steps when you heard footsteps behind you.

“y/n! wait!”

you turned to see sunghoon jogging after you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry.

he reached for you, but you took a step back, shaking your head, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“why did you do that, sunghoon?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “why did you have to say all that in front of everyone?”

he looked at you, desperation etched into every line of his face. “because i couldn’t keep it inside anymore,” he said, his voice raw, broken. “i couldn’t pretend. not when… not when all i want is you.”

you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. “you don’t understand. you can’t just… say things like that, sunghoon. you’re engaged—your family…”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “i don’t care about the engagement, the expectations, any of it. none of it matters if i can’t be with you.”

his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your defenses crumbling, piece by piece.

but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, clawing at you, refusing to let you give in.

“i don’t need your pity,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “i don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

he looked at you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “this isn’t pity, y/n. i’m not trying to save you. i just… i just want to be with you.”

for a moment, you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things left unsaid.

and then, before he could say anything more, you turned and walked away, the tears finally spilling over as you slipped into the cab and closed the door, leaving him standing there alone in the falling snow.

the next morning, you woke with a heavy heart, the memory of last night replaying in your mind.

you felt raw, vulnerable, and yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope buried beneath the ache—a hope that maybe, this was real.

your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at your door.

you rose, heart pounding, and opened it to find sunghoon standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, his eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.

you’d expected sunghoon to be at the door, waiting with an apology or a question—but you hadn’t expected him to look so vulnerable.

his usual confidence was gone, replaced by a rawness that mirrored everything you’d felt since the night before.

the bouquet he held was a mix of wildflowers and holiday greenery—red berries and sprigs of pine woven among soft white flowers that stood out against the darkness of the early morning.

when you finally took the bouquet from his hands, your fingers brushed his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

the simple touch said everything words hadn’t—the apology, the relief, and maybe most of all, the overwhelming sense of rightness that you couldn’t ignore any longer.

the silence stretched, each of you looking at the other, feeling the weight of all that had come before and the fragile hope for what might come next.

he looked at you, eyes searching your face with a hesitance that felt new, uncertain.

“y/n…” he began, his voice soft, each syllable filled with a vulnerability you’d never heard before.

“i know last night was… overwhelming. and i’m sorry if i put you on the spot, but i meant every single word.”

you felt your heart flutter, the sincerity in his gaze unshakable—he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he’d been waiting his whole life to hold close.

and that look, filled with quiet awe and devotion, undid every defense you’d carefully built over the years.

“i was afraid to believe it,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i was so afraid that this would all be some fleeting thing for you. that i’d just be another distraction.”

his brows knit together in disbelief, and he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“a distraction?” he murmured, a trace of pain in his voice. “y/n, you’re the only person i’ve ever been able to be… real with. you see me—beyond my name, beyond the expectations. i didn’t know how much i needed that until i met you.”

for a moment, you just looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a warm blanket.

every snide comment, every misunderstanding, every late night spent working together—each memory replayed in your mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.

what you’d shared wasn’t just rivalry or convenience; it had been the start of something deeper, something real.

“i’ve wanted to hear that for so long,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “i just… i couldn’t admit it, not even to myself.”

a slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he took a step closer, pulling you into a gentle hug. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close in a way that felt so natural, as if you’d been made to fit there.

he smelled faintly of cedar and pine, a comforting, earthy scent that made you feel warm and safe.

you could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, grounding you as everything else melted away.

“then stay with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “stay with me, y/n. i’ll prove to you that this is real. that i’m all in.”

you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of uncertainty.

but all you saw was unwavering devotion, a promise he seemed ready to carry for as long as you needed.

“i love you, sunghoon,” you said, feeling the words roll off your tongue, soft and unrestrained, like a sigh of relief after holding your breath for too long.

“i think… i’ve loved you for a long time. even when i couldn’t admit it, even when you drove me crazy.”

a soft laugh escaped him, and he looked at you with an expression filled with wonder, as if he, too, had been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

“i never thought i’d hear you say that,” he whispered, his voice thick with admiration and softness.

“neither did i,” you admitted, your smile mirroring his.

he leaned down, cupping your face with gentle hands as he closed the small distance between you.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, warm, and filled with the quiet certainty that this was where you were meant to be.

the world around you faded, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the lingering taste of his kiss.

the weeks that followed felt like a dream.

for the first time, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of being with him, unburdened by the anxieties that had once kept you apart.

sunghoon’s presence became a comfort, a steady warmth that you found yourself relying on more and more.

with christmas only a few days away, he insisted on taking you to a secluded cabin his family owned, nestled in a quiet of a forest just outside the city.

when you arrived, snow covered the ground in a perfect blanket, undisturbed and glistening under the faint light of a winter sunset.

the cabin was charmingly rustic, decorated with fairy lights and pine wreaths, and a cozy fire crackled in the stone fireplace, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

sunghoon stood behind you as you both took in the view, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“welcome to our first tradition,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

“our first tradition?” you echoed, a smile playing on your lips.

he nodded, pulling you closer. “i want to spend every christmas with you. just like this—peaceful, just us. no crowds, no expectations. just you, me, and… maybe a cup of hot chocolate.”

you laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “i could get used to that.”

he smiled, reaching up to brush a snowflake from your hair—the gesture was so tender, so filled with quiet adoration, that your heart swelled with love for him all over again.

“let’s go inside,” he said, taking your hand. “there’s something i want to show you.”

you followed him into the cabin, where he led you to a small table by the window.

on it was a simple, carefully wrapped box with a red ribbon tied around it—he handed it to you, his eyes warm and expectant.

you opened the box to find a small, delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny snowflake, etched in silver.

it sparkled under the dim light, catching the glow from the fire.

“it’s beautiful, hoon..” you whispered, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

he reached out, clasping it around your wrist with a soft smile. “i wanted something that would remind you of this moment. of us.”

your throat tightened, and you looked up at him, feeling an overwhelming wave of gratitude and love.

he’d given you so much more than a gift—he’d given you a promise, a quiet assurance that he was in this for the long haul.

“thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas, y/n.”

as you stood there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow began to fall outside, blanketing the world in a peaceful, serene quiet.

the warmth of the cabin, the gentle crackling of the fire, and the soft glow of fairy lights filled the space, making it feel like you were in your own little world.

and in that moment, you realized that everything you’d gone through—every argument, every misunderstanding, every long, quiet night spent wondering what could have been—had all been worth it.

because it had led you here, to this moment, to him.

the rest of the night was spent in quiet conversation, sharing dreams and hopes for the future as you watched the snow fall outside.

you talked about everything and nothing, feeling the joy of being together without any walls between you.

the future was a blank canvas, filled with endless possibilities, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to picture it—each memory, each holiday, painted with sunghoon by your side.

as the night drew to a close, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms, the fire casting soft shadows across the room, wrapping you both in warmth.

sunghoon’s heartbeat was a steady lullaby, soothing and constant, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, knowing that this was only the beginning.

and as you closed your eyes, a single thought lingered, filling you with a quiet, profound happiness—

you were finally home.

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @sol3chu @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @moon368 @senascoooop @suneng @onlyjjong @blockbusterhee @wensurr @wiccangirl29 @vousmevoxes @heeswif3y @getoxo @50-husbands @wildtigerlili @letwiiparkjay @loves0ft @yuriknows : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

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homoquartz · 2 months ago

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hi!! if you would like to join me in being angry, please consider this new gem of journalism bestowed upon us peasants today:

(Article link is here)

In case you doubt it, yes, that is correct. Major studios will now assemble panels of racists, homophobes, transphobes, and misogynists to dictate how much us squirming pathetic little brown queers get to be represented on screen.

They were already doing this, but now they're comfortable saying it outright. As I have said before, THIS SHOULD ALARM YOU.

This post is long so the rest is below, backed up with data:

Disney is tacitly admitting that they canceled The Acolyte because they would rather alienate their marginalized fanbase than their rabid, genocidal straight white male one. And you can be damn sure this is also why the likes of Netflix and HBO Max are so comfortable discarding highly acclaimed queer shows like Warrior Nun, Our Flag Means Death, the Owl House, and Dead Boy Detectives.

The only shows about marginalized people allowed to go on are the ones that, against all odds, become hit successes (eg Heartstopper), at which point their earning potential outweighs their sin of being brown or gay. I want to emphasize that these shows must be breakout hits - shows that perform on par with straighter, whiter releases aren't given this grace.

These companies are going to obscure the reality of their actions by talking about profits and public image, but rest assured they would find a way to justify this even if the vast majority of viewers were brown and queer. Because it's about maintaining power. It's part of a nationwide surge against inclusion.

Do you remember the IGN article that just came out that revealed Disney's insistence that Riley be made to look "less gay" in Inside Out 2?

Do you remember the Autostraddle article which crunched the numbers to show that queer shows are cancelled more often and earlier than others?

How about GLAAD's breakdown of queer shows cancelled last year? Here's a snippet of the data:

❗️Both Autostraddle and GLAAD have found that 1 in 4 queer shows are axed. This is DOUBLE the rate for streaming shows overall, which is just at 12%.

Variety has a data breakdown here. What's interesting is that Netflix is actually pretty moderate with its cancellations, yet the majority of cancelled queer shows belong to Netflix.

I had a harder time finding data for shows featuring leads of color. If anyone has links, I'll add them here.

In conclusion:

They are banning our books. They are cancelling our shows. They are silencing our stories. You know why.

You can help in a few ways. One is to stream as many cancelled shows centering POC and/or queer people as you can. Another option is to cancel your streaming subscriptions and vote with your wallet (this is what I have done).

There's also a bunch of petitions for cancelled shows I strongly recommend signing. Pick a show and google it plus "petition" and it will turn up.

You can go to Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB and 5-star your chosen shows, as well as each episode.

You can message the streaming services on social media requesting renewal. Reaching out to influencers in spheres related to this topic, as well as media outlets, is also a good idea.

Finally and most importantly, talk to your friends and family. Ask them to do something. Ask them to tell people. The more people who stand against a hateful status quo, the less powerful it becomes.

I believe this can be turned around if we make enough noise. These streaming services should revive their queer shows, market them properly, and support them like any other show.

I sound silly now, but watch this space in two years.

#our flag means death #dead boy detectives #warrior nun #the owl house #shadow and bone #the acolyte

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rose-maidenn · 3 months ago

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Astro observations 1

Tropical + Sidereal

Tropical

If you have mercury sextile venus as a women your voice gives you an upper hand in your career , example Sofia Vergara being famous for her acting as well as her unique voice , lana del rey for her vocal range , Rihanna , Kim Kardashian memes lol .

If as a man you have mercury sextile venus it shows up as an upper hand in your thoughts and creativity , often times men with this placement are very soft spoken and understanding , in a dark way they could be manipulative as well . They mostly create a world of wonders for themselves and have distinct contributions towards art or way of life . Eg : Walt Disney , Ewan Mcgregor in big fish

Scorpio men give high school bad boy vibes , their upper body might be larger then their lower body , fellas don't skip leg day

Wanna start content creation or wanna be a singer , check your moon sign , a popstar might become popular based on the emphasis on either vocal range, lyricism, performance (credits to the instagram reel i watched lol i lost the link ) eg : scorpio women embody the performer persona most strongly , for example: Beyonce , Miley Cyrus , Lady gaga etc (vedic - Vishakha)

Cancer sun women mostly embody the trashy girl aesthetic.

Though widely considered meek , the cancer sun embodies a badass feministic yet kind vibe to them eg : Princess Diana , Selena Gomez , MIA, Frida Kahlo , often turn out to be revolutionaries and make changes in their own fields .

Pluto in the 5th is an amazing placement for fashion designers or in the field of marketing in the field , eg: Coco chanel , Miuccia Prada , Donatella Versace etc . 5th is the house of creativity and pluto being in it bring something out of the ordinary to make the person famous.

Pluto in 5th might also suffer from a turbulent childhood often with home relocation or absent parents

Mercury in 9th might be forced to grow up earlier , these people embody wisdom beyond years, often time resulting in void eg : Drew Barrymore, Mila Kunis lying about her age to get roles , Brooke shields .

Mercury in 9th is also a good placement for writers, eg : Sylvia plath , Agatha Christie, Emily Bronte .

Sidereal

Purva Bhadrapada women are very activist and stand for what they believe in , they make really good points in an debate👏

Punarvasu sun will give you fuller lips . Mostly downturned

Gemini men often have a wild chemistry with Sagittarius men 😭😂 the gemini man either admires the Sagittarius or hates them , like a frenemy vibe .

Libra men have the rake energy they flirt with everyone but they also make you feel like you're the only girl 😭 tf

Moon conjunct Saturn is said to give a bad relationship with mother but I have observed that if it is in the 12 th house it actually gives a good relationship, as there's more understanding .

As a jupiterian myself I won't advise to dye your hair blonde if you have prominent jupiter ,it makes me even more delusional. I would recommend brown for grounding and inviting creativity in your life .

Idk mars dom men are too good to me I like them so much, I've seen that in other cases as well so I will say jup dom 🤝 mars dom.

Rahu doms are underdogs yall , mostly people underestimate them until one day they put all their energy into something and prove themselves .

Uttara Ashadha girls act as they're stupid but they're observing so much , they might have really captivating eyes , puppy eyes if I say .

If two people have asc-moon synastry , they love each other and loathe each other because of their similarities , their is also a tendency of copying the others gestures or fashion .

Ketu doms push people away and then say they're lonely , it takes a lot to understand the inner rich world of ketu doms , which I think venus doms get to a degree.

Rohini people have a certain liking towards the metal of gold , and it will bring you auspiciousness if you buy them gold.

That's all for today hope yall enjoyed , I think you can read both observations interchangeably hehe I tried a new format hope yall like it . Dm me if you want to book a chart reading or an astrology reading 🫶

Thank you for reading

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lurkingshan · 1 year ago

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Japanese BL Starter Pack

It’s been awhile since I dropped a rec list, so I am here today to share one that is very near and dear to my heart—a Japanese bl primer for those who are new to the jbl game. I created this for @neuroticbookworm to help her on her journey when she decided she wanted to start getting into Japanese works. The fandom (on Tumblr and generally) tends to focus primarily on Thai shows because they are the easiest to access for international fans, since Thailand is working its way toward world domination via ql media and wants us all to be able to watch. But there is a lot of great stuff to watch beyond the easy access Thai channels, and Japan is the country where this genre originated, so its shows are important for anyone who considers themselves a bl fan. Japan doesn’t cater nearly as much to the international audience so tracking down the shows sometimes takes some ingenuity and can-do spirit, but that’s part of the fun!

And so, the list! Bookworm is about halfway through it and having a ball, so I figured it was time to stop hoarding it and share it with anyone else who would like to dip their toes into jbl and isn’t quite sure where to start. A few notes:

I am not here to teach you about the deep roots of the jbl genre or give you a primer on yaoi manga. I am by no means an expert and there are other places to find that information. Start here with this great post by @nieves-de-sugui and then maybe wander over to @absolutebl to read up more on the evolution of the genre.

This list is by no means an exhaustive accounting of every important Japanese bl ever made; it is simply a nice sampler platter of the cream of the crop among various styles you will find in jbl. Watching through this whole list will not only expose you to some fantastic shows, but also give you a sense of what makes jbl unique and how the country’s style differs from others, and point you toward the types of jbl you’ll like most (they tend to put shows in pretty specific style and tone lanes and once you find the ones you like there are lots more where that came from).

If you’re coming to this post as a jbl lover and you don’t see your favorite here, I promise it’s not because I don’t love it very much; I simply had to make some choices to get this down to a reasonable shortlist. Feel free to leave extra recs for others to find!

I’m putting these in a loose suggested watch order that will take you through the various jbl lanes in a kind of popcorn style, because I always think it’s good to change it up so you don’t get too stuck in one mode, and it works its way up to most of the extremely Japanese stuff (you will know what that means by the time you finish). But do what’s in your heart and change up the order if you want, friends, I am not the boss of you!

Cherry Magic (Crunchyroll or grey)

gif by @liyazaki

I believe everyone on Tumblr is pretty familiar with this one, which is not a coincidence—this is one of the most accessible jbls. Not in terms of actual access to watch it, mind you (we’ve all jumped through shady internet hoops to watch it) but in terms of its content and style. Cherry Magic is a classic workplace romcom with a magical twist, and it is charming af. It’s a great exemplar of Japan’s light and zippy comedy lane for bl—a lane in which, importantly, the romances stay chaste even when the actual plot is about sex, or lack thereof. My friend @waitmyturtles would kill me if I didn’t make sure you know that Cherry Magic also has a lovely follow up film. And bonus: there is now a Thai remake airing so if you watch the original you can get in on the discussion about the different adaptations between countries. This is pretty easy to find these days in all the usual places, but I strongly recommend watching it here.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki)

gif by @liyazaki

Moving on to a slightly more mature workplace romcom. Old Fashion Cupcake, another Tumblr favorite, is an age gap boss-subordinate romance, and it’s both very adult and somehow wholesome af at the same time. Sure, there is a lot of carnal desire going on here, but there is also a lot of wooing via fluffy pancakes. It’s a tight five episodes and a fantastic example of what Japan, with its extreme technical precision in writing, directing, editing, pacing, and acting firing on all cylinders, can do in two hours. There’s not an ounce of flab on this thing and you’ll want to watch it over and over again.

Utsukushii Kare (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Time to get a little weird! Weird is a key feature of Japanese media, and lots of jbls explore unusual relationship dynamics rooted in complex psychology. This is the first show on the list that will likely feel very Japanese if you’re new around here—my advice is to lean into it and finish the show, even if you get uncomfortable along the way. In Japanese media, discomfort always serves a purpose. This is a high school story with a twisted relationship at its center, and I’m not saying any more than that. Don’t spoil yourself and go watch it! This one also comes with two sequels—one short second season and one movie—that continue from the original story. They are less essential but still excellent.

I Cannot Reach You (Netflix)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Next up, another high school tale, but with a totally different vibe. This show is kind of a revelation in its willingness to tell a story about overwhelming desire—including sexual desire—with young protagonists. It’s rooted in a classic but often misunderstood trope, friends to lovers, and takes the angst of it seriously, giving us a low stakes story that feels extremely high stakes to our leads. It’s also gorgeous and uses a classic Japanese visual style (bokeh) that you’ll be dying to learn more about.

His (Viki)

gif by @gabrielokun

Time for a break from high school, and we’ll sprinkle in a movie for some added flavor. His is a jbl film featuring a second chance romance between a stoic, introverted man who moves to a remote town to start over, and his ex-boyfriend who follows him there unexpectedly, adorable child in tow. Importantly, this movie does not take place in what we often refer to as the “bl bubble” where homophobia doesn’t exist; the leads’ experiences of being gay men in a homophobic society are hugely important to the plot and themes of the story. It’s a beautiful film and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. @bengiyo would surely also like me to tell you that this film follows a brief prequel show called His: I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love about the characters originally meeting in high school; I do not think it’s really necessary to watch it but completists can start there.

The Pornographer series (Gaga)

By now you should be ready to get into some classic Japanese fucked up psychosexual material, right? Right! The Pornographer series is told in five installments in this order:

The Novelist, a six episode miniseries

Mood Indigo, a six episode prequel series

Spring Life, a 15 minute short

Pornographer: Playback, a two hour film

Spring Life Continued, a 15 minute short

Confused by that distribution model? So say we all; sometimes Japan likes to make us work for it to make sure we really appreciate its many gifts to us. The story across these installments is about a very difficult to love protagonist, what makes him the way he is, and the also-unhinged-but-in-a-different-way man who finally gets through to him. It’s an extremely satisfying love story and one of the best character arcs I have ever seen, full stop. For this one, you’ll want to just pull the word problematic out of your pocket and store it in a drawer; nearly everything that happens in this story is problematic and that’s the point. Lean in! All of these installments except for the film are on Gaga, if you get that far hmu and I will supply you with the final puzzle piece.

Our Dining Table (Gaga)

You could probably use a break after those last two, so it’s time to shift over to a heart-tugging twofer: family trauma mixed with the cutest shit you’ve ever seen. ODT is an example of another classic type of Japanese show: the food drama (you will see the GOAT in this category at the end of this list). In Japanese culture, food is love, and the act of preparing food for your loved ones is a common path to romance. You’ll love this story about an isolated office worker who meets a pair of brothers, learns to cook as a way of connecting with them, and begins to heal from his own trauma as a result. The image above is a scan from the manga, which @troubled-mind curates to make extremely cool comparison sets like this one. Many jbls are faithful adaptations of yaoi manga source material, so it’s good to have a bit of familiarity with them.

Minato’s Laundromat (Gaga)

gif by @liyazaki

Japanese media loves to explore taboo, and often manages to do it in a way that is surprisingly light and chaste. This is an age gap romance between a teenager and his adult neighbor that explores internalized homophobia, emotional repression, and falling in love across seemingly impossible social chasms. It’s also a great example of old school yaoi seme-uke dynamics that still show up across the bl genre. Also, take my advice: end your journey with this one with the first season and just pretend season 2 doesn’t exist.

Eternal Yesterday (Viki)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Remember what I said about weird? Time to do that again, but with a heaping dose of grief and pain on top. It’s not a spoiler to tell you this show involves a major character death; a major character death is, in fact, the root of the entire story. This is a magic realist tale of first love turned tragic, and it will hurt and heal you. It is one of my favorite dramas of all time.

Restart After Come Back Home (Gaga)

And now for a break for your poor exhausted brain. This film is basically the jbl version of a Hallmark original movie, about a city boy who goes back home to the country and falls in love with a total sweetheart while working together on a farm. Enjoy it, bestie, you’ve earned it!

Tokyo in April Is… (Gaga)

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You’ve probably noticed by now that emotional repression and failed communication are big themes in Japanese works. This second chance romance has plenty of both, and it’s a great example of a kind of muted emotional style that Japan does so well, where the surface of the story seems almost placid and calm even as deep emotion roils underneath. This one (and Eternal Yesterday above) are part of a special line up of jbls on Japanese channel MBS called Tonku (Drama) Shower. The shows air one after another in the same time slot on Fridays (in Japan, perhaps Thursdays for you depending on where you live) and you truly never know what you’re gonna get, but they’re all interesting. Warnings on this one for sexual assault and trauma.

The End of the World With You (Viki)

Time for sexy and weird again, but even more so! This has to be one of the most unique bls ever made; it goes to some truly divine and strange places, and it feels incredibly queer while doing it. Made by the same screenwriter/director of the Pornographer series with a lot of the same sensibilities, but in a more heightened apocalyptic setting. This one has existential angst, a road trip, a redemption tale, and a variety of interesting side characters in the mix.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? (Gaga)

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of the list and your reward is watching one of the best bls of all time, and a perfect slice of life food drama to boot. WDYEY now has two seasons (along with a couple specials and a movie that fall in between) because the universe clearly loves us. You can now get it on Gaga for easy access but I’m partial to the versions over at @kinounaniresource for better subs. Wherever you watch, settle in to get cozy with Shiro and Kenji and make sure to always eat before you hit play.

#shan recommends #cherry magic #old fashion cupcake #utsukushii kare #eternal yesterday #our dining table #minato’s laundromat #what did you eat yesterday?#tokyo in april is...#his the movie #the pornographer #japanese bl #jbl starter pack

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fatuismooches · 6 months ago

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cor monstri.

synopsis: Having been awake from your centuries-long coma for quite a while, you’ve become accustomed to many of Dottore’s segments and their unique personalities, along with their love for you. However, there seems to be a segment that’s rather elusive, and you’re going to get to the bottom of it.

includes: dottore (zeta segment) w/ gn! reader

notes: This is a commissioned work! I strongly recommend reading this, this, and this, in order to get a better grasp on this particular segment, Zeta (a sincere thank you to these anons!) Fragile reader tries their best in order to make a particular gloomy segment smile, the man who feels the failure of being unable to cure them for so long.

Il Dottore was a man of many faces, quite literally.

When you were a student with him at the Akademiya, he always wore one - that perpetually annoyed look that kept everyone else away from him, a perfect fit for him as he didn’t want to be bothered. Though you did see his softer sides eventually, it was nothing compared to what you dealt with now. Ever since you woke up from your coma, you were literally looking at his numerous faces all the time.

From 01’s familiar grumpy face to 02’s wide grins, 04’s severe lack of a smile as well as 18’s relaxed nature, and the exuding confidence from 24. There was also your favorite one, the glowing and giddy face of 10 when the child clung to you. Not to mention, all the other segments of Dottore that were around you. It was a lot to see and get used to… but you grew to love them all dearly, so you eventually gave them names. Real names, instead of numbers.

However, there was one segment that was sort of an outlier. It was strange to single him out, considering how eccentric all of the segments were, but with his odd behavior, it didn’t take long for him to catch your eye. 06, now called Zeta, was his name, and you found yourself struggling to understand him, partially because you barely ever saw him. That was probably one of the strangest things - being asleep for four hundred years made it so that all the other segments longed for your company and touch, stealing you away and hogging your attention whenever they had the chance.

But Zeta, he wasn’t one of the bunch. He didn’t initiate anything but instead watched from afar. You would catch him watching you give a kiss or hug to another segment, before looking away swiftly. You would find him staring at you whenever you laughed or smiled widely, seemingly taking in your expression, before retreating somewhere else. You were confused. Did he not like you or something? Was there a period in Dottore’s life where he didn’t like you anymore?! Alright, you knew that was a dumb question, but still. Zeta never completely ignored you or drove you away, but you wondered why he seemed to be so gloomy and distant around everyone.

Zeta also had a face that was obviously familiar yet unfamiliar to you at the same time. Zeta had that fluffy blue hair you adored, and it was slightly longer than Beta’s hair, but not as long or stylized in the way of the older segments. Sometimes you’d notice it would be unkempt for days, and you’d try to brush it for him, although he initially protested and tried to leave quietly. Still, you made him sit as you weaved the hair brush and your fingers through his locks, which you greatly enjoyed but you weren’t sure if Zeta did as much.

The other segments usually spoke to you, even if it was just small talk when they were busy. But again, Zeta was an odd one. He was always quiet around you. Regardless, whenever you did something sweet for him, no matter how small, he would show some form of gratitude. That was another odd feature of his, the other segments weren’t nearly as openly kind. Of course, they could say those nice words when it was something big, but Zeta seemed to make it a point. Was he really grateful for such tiny acts? You weren’t sure.

Zeta had those gorgeous red eyes that you loved to peer into, but his eyes seemed different from the other segments, and Prime Dottore himself. The others donned a familiar glint that you loved to see, proof of their ambitions and goals and research regardless of what others thought. Zeta’s eyes, however, seemed rather empty and dull to you. Still beautiful of course, but still. And while Delta had a permanently stern expression, Zeta was also quite serious, but he just seemed… somber, in a way. He never smiled. You wondered why. You think he’d look even prettier with a smile, just like how your other lovers do.

Asking your beloved, Prime Dottore himself, didn’t give you much answers. You should have expected that, but it was still disappointing.

“Dottore, all the segments are from past stages of your life, right?”

“Indeed.”

“Like how Alpha is from when you were a student and Omega is you from not too long ago…”

“That is correct.”

“So what stage of life is Zeta from?” Your question makes your lover pause for a mere moment, before moving his pen again like nothing happened.

“It was when you were still in your coma,” was his simple response, much to your dismay.

“Okay…? Almost all of your segments are from when I was sleeping! I mean, is there anything… specific that happened during that time? Anything particular?” You pressed, hoping to see why Zeta would be so drastically different from his other segments.

“No, I simply attended to you and my Fatui duties as usual.” You had to stop yourself from groaning at the obvious lie. There had to be something that had happened to make Zeta so stony-faced and subdued, compared to Prime’s outward and self-assured nature. And despite the complications your illness brought, your determination remained and that only meant one thing.

You were going to understand and love Zeta, no matter how much work it took.

—

Even though you knew where Zeta’s office and room were, whenever you went to find him, he was nowhere to be seen. You don’t know how he manages to be so slippery, but luckily you have a plan. Because no one can be more persistent than you when it comes to pursuing Dottore! You knew that periodically each of the segments reported to Prime whatever they were researching, and that even included Zeta, who seemed to never have much to do with him or have any agents under his command either. (Did he work completely alone? You knew all the segments liked to work by themselves, but they still had agents that worked under them for menial tasks. Zeta didn’t seem to speak to anyone else though.) Regardless, you were just going to lurk near your lover’s office and wait until Zeta finally popped up.

Thankfully, your experiment was a success.

When Zeta exited Prime’s office, you were right there, patiently waiting for him. His normal monotone expression was mildly surprised, probably not expecting you to be right there. Before the segment could speak, you leaned closer, your eyes staring directly into his, which had a permanent darkness underneath.

“Zeta! Hi! Hello! How are you?” Your words came out a bit awkward because of how long you’ve waited for this moment, but you didn’t think it was much of a problem. A few moments passed, as he took in your form, the one that was alive and breathing right in front of him instead of the one that never responded to him. You tried to ignore his intense stare before you got flustered. Just what could he be thinking about? You felt you understood Dottore and all the others well, but Zeta… well, he was a mystery that you’d crack. Hopefully.

“... I am fine. And you?” He had already begun walking but had trouble doing so as you were practically circling him excitedly. The sight made his chest oddly warm, but his usual expression remained, giving away nothing to his true feelings.

“I’m good too! Besides all the other stuff of course,” you didn’t see how his face tightened at the indirect mention of your illness, “But anyway, I have a problem. A very serious problem that only you can help me with,” you declared.

“And that is?” Zeta watched as your cheerful demeanor turned more serious.

“You’re the only segment I’ve barely spent any time with. That makes me quite sad. I want to get to know you some more, Zeta,” you said simply, having no interest in beating around the bush. “I know we haven’t spoken a lot but… I would like to change that. I mean, I know you probably don’t like to speak to people but…” You fiddled with your sleeve a bit nervously now, “But I would still like to try. I like you a lot, you know?” Zeta looked at you as you spoke, noticing every small detail that crossed your face, your eyes that blinked shyly as you bit your lip. Every movement of yours was mesmerizing for the man who once constantly stared at your unmoving face.

“So… what do you say, Zeta?” Ah, that’s right. You were waiting for an answer, now bearing a hopeful look. He should decline, the segment thinks. He’s satisfied with watching you go about your day.

“If that’s truly what you want, then I suppose nothing I say will be able to deter you,” the opposite comes out of his mouth, a feeling that’s buried deep within him, one that can’t help but come out when you’re near. Before he can speak again, to say that being with him probably won’t be the experience you’re looking for, you joyfully celebrate by wrapping your arms around the segment. You fight the urge to kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise it won’t be boring!” Your warmth envelopes Zeta’s body, an unfamiliar sensation that has him frozen. So this is the sweetness that Prime and the other segments indulge in every day? And yet in his mind and body, your coldness from long ago still permeates him. From when you weren’t even able to respond to his words. Before you can notice something is wrong, he tentatively places his hand on your back, making sure his fingers do not twitch from how starved he is for you.

And then your days with Zeta officially began.

—

Rather quickly into your attempt to understand Zeta, the most important thing for you was to get to know him. Talk with him. Figure him out. You found that this task was difficult yet simple at the same thing. Zeta answered your question concisely as you expected him to, but… that was it. He was to the point and nothing else, not the conversationalist like his other segments. It left you with a lot of gaps to fill. Especially since you had no exact idea of what era of Dottore’s life he was from.

But still, you enjoyed your time with Zeta.

You learned that his area of research was medicine, creating and modifying new types for the Fatui’s use. But more importantly, he helped to create medicine for you. You didn’t expect that - you thought only Prime would do such a thing, but Zeta was incredibly skilled. You learned that he did indeed work with no one else at all, having “no interest in dealing with them,” according to the segment.

You also learned that he was immensely attentive toward you, especially when your illness seemed to affect you the most. His eyes followed you when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, examining your body language and expression. If you were dizzy, he’d force you to sit down. If you looked to be more tired than usual, he’d make you go to sleep. The most you had heard him speak so fluently without stopping was when you had the “audacity” to still visit him while you were running a slight fever.

Well, perhaps you should have expected that considering the others would react in a similar way, but you felt as though he was especially serious about it. While the other segments could entertain your excuses to an extent, he wouldn’t. It made you wonder if his stronger feelings had someone to do with his personality. You felt bad for worrying him… perhaps you should try to cheer him up. Actually, making him smile too. Yes, that would do nicely. But how? You weren’t sure if the tricks (more like a bombardment of affection) would work on Zeta. Still, there was no harm in trying.

I. plan a - attack with affection!

“Zeta~ whatcha doing?” You had come up from behind him as he sat in his chair, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Zeta instantly takes note of your warm breath on his neck, the rise and fall of your chest, but ignores his longing for more.

“Reviewing the effects of the medicine on the others,” he replied, neglecting to mention who exactly was being tested on. You sighed, enjoying the fluff of his hair, but slightly disappointed at how he didn’t seem to be fazed whenever you touched him.

“Don’t you think you should take a little break? You’re always working,” you advised as you kissed the stoic man on the cheek. Pretty much all of the segments were constantly working or engrossed with their research, but many found some time to slack off with you, even for a few minutes. Well, it was more like you forced them to do so, but that was beside the point.

“I do not have time to spare with such things,” is Zeta’s immediate answer. All this annoying Fatui work he has to do takes up so much of his time when he should be focusing on helping to cure you. It’s extremely irritating for the segment, but of course, you don’t know that. You whine a bit, nipping his cheek to get him to reconsider, but the consistent somber look remains.

“At least let me keep you company,” you said. Before he could protest or accept, you had already pulled his chair out to make yourself comfortable on his lap. This technique always worked, tested multiple times by you. You had to fluster him at least a little bit! His deep red eyes bore into yours before he sighed.

“If that is what you would like,” he said as he continued to work on analyzing the records in front of him. You were content with lying against him, head braced against his shoulders. At some point, you noticed his hand now rested on your thigh and then moved up your body, which you delighted in.

“You are very warm,” Zeta finally commented after a while of silence.

“Me? Warm?” You were a bit surprised because you were used to being told that you were pretty cold, mostly due to your illness, but Zeta didn’t seem to think so, considering how his arm was snaked around you firmly.

“Yes. Quite warm.” At least compared to all those centuries ago, Zeta thought. You looked at him curiously.

“Do you like it?”

“I do. It helps with focusing.” You almost giggled at that. Here you were trying to distract him, but he said you were helping him focus.

“Then let me warm you up some more,” you whispered, hands slithering up to his shoulders as you pressed your lips against his neck, leaving long kisses down to his collarbone. You then kissed his cheek, trying to gauge his reaction. Still, he wasn’t even blushing, as composed as always… well, a lot of the other segments were like this too, but you hoped you’d be able to see a similar expression as when you teased Alpha.

“Come on Zeta, don’t I deserve some kisses too?” You teased, as your lips got dangerously close to his, nearly brushing each other. You felt him stiffen up at how close you were, his eyes struggling to stay focused on his papers.

“Is it ever possible for you to show restraint?” You smiled at the snarkiness - even though Zeta was more a lot subdued than the others, you still could be a victim of his sarcasm.

“Of course I can. Just not when it comes to you. You’re just too cute,” you said before locking your lips with his, finally indulging in such pleasure. At first, Zeta’s lack of response made you worry that he didn’t want it, but soon enough he kissed you back. It was gentle at first, a bit unnoticeable, but after a few moments, he kissed back harder, catching you off guard. You pulled away, trying to regain your breath, but he then kissed you again, not letting you escape from his grasp. The kiss was greedy, and the way his fingers dug into your arms was as if he felt you would slip away if he didn’t hold onto you hard enough. Of course, you welcomed the feeling along with your beating heart, although you were speechless by the end of it, only staring at the segment with your mouth slightly ajar. Zeta had an amused glint, a refreshing look from his normally empty gaze.

“Why so surprised? Is this not what you asked for?”

“I- Well, yes, it was. And I am not disappointed,” you quickly replied, hoping to seem not too bothered by that sudden assault. Looks like he flustered you instead of you flustering him… but you know what? It was still a win!

“You know what this means, Zeta?” You looked at you silently, beckoning you to continue.

“Mission accomplished! I got you to take a little break, didn’t I?” You giggled at the success of your little plan, while Zeta’s eyes softened a tiny bit, the bags under his eyes looking a little less dark.

“... I guess you did.”

Plan A resulted in a semi-success and failure, but you think you’re a step closer to seeing a smile on Zeta’s face.

II. plan b - gift him something nice!

Gifts were always a good way to make someone smile. How could one not smile, after seeing someone else go out of their way to get something that was thoughtful? No one, that’s right, well, except for Dottore. Some of his segments, to be more specific. You remember quite well when you used to gift Dottore things in the Akademiya, he would always be suspicious of your ulterior motives. Thankfully, he’s changed now, because it would be difficult to have your partner of four hundred years wary of your intentions.

However, you were unaware of what kind of gifts Zeta would like. All the segments had their own preferences that you took into consideration, but you had only gotten to know Zeta recently, so you weren’t sure what he’d like yet. Should you cook for him? You could, but you had already given him a lot of tasty treats. You wanted to get something better for him. In the end, you simply decided to ask him.

“Zeta, what do you like?” You questioned, as you idly observed what he was writing. You think it was something about selling stuff to another Harbinger.

“What do I like?” He repeated. It was an odd question because he thought you’d know such things by now, but he still humored you. “Successful experiments, for one.” You giggled.

“I know that. I mean… if you had to receive something right now, what would it be? A gift, you could say. I could even make something for you!”

“A gift? That’s right, you used to be quite skilled with your hands,” Zeta reminisced about your past creations from when you were a student, more to himself rather than you from his expression, as he ran his longer fingers over the palm of your hands absentmindedly. A good pen that didn’t break would be nice, but he knew that was probably impossible.

“I do not require anything at this moment. There is no need to bother with it.” You hung your head in disappointment, which you should have expected, but you were unwilling to just give up like that.

For a while, you brainstormed. You thought for ages about what gift would be best for Zeta, and one day it hit you.

A picture frame.

Recently you had become knowledgeable about the “Kamera”, a device that took “pictures”, which were images that were captured permanently. It was fascinating to see yourself reflected back at you like that. Zeta liked to stare at you, his preferred method of communication to be honest. So would it not be a nice gift, a picture of you that he could look at whenever you weren’t around? And you could decorate the picture frame cutely! It was perfect! You were excited.

You didn’t bother asking another segment to take the picture for you, because you knew they’d get jealous if they found out what you were preparing for Zeta. You rather not have to think of over a dozen poses to do for each of them right now. You settled on a simple smile for the picture, placed some stickers along the frame that definitely didn’t match the vibe of Zeta’s office, and then put it there one day for him to come and see. You decided not to say anything, wanting to see his reaction.

As soon as he walked into his office, he immediately noticed you lying down, poorly pretending to be reading, and then his eyes wandered to the new addition on his desk. Zeta sighed at your determination, a trait he did admire about you even if you were annoying about it sometimes. Taking a seat, he then looked at the gift you had presented him with. The picture of you glowed back at him, a pretty smile that belonged on your face. It reminded him of the smiles you had back in the Akademiya. There were also the heart stickers that you plastered along the frame, that was simply so you. [Name].

“It is good. You seem adept with a Kamera, which is not surprising.” Your heart stuttered at the praise.

“It is fun to use. We should take some pictures together! I need to add them to my scrapbook.”

Zeta only hummed in response, his mood unusually better than usual, and glanced at the photo for a few more seconds. He then moved it to a better position and returned to his work. You held back a smile.

Plan B was definitely a success!

III. plan c - make him laugh!

Something that always made you laugh was when Dottore or the segments laughed. You always found it captivating to see how different their laughs were. Segments like Alpha and Delta rarely laughed, and when they did, it was more like a scoff. Omega’s laugh, which was usually when he was amused, whether it was genuine or in a mocking way, always made your heart flutter. Beta’s laugh, where you joined in with his hee-hee-ho-hos. So naturally, you wondered how you would get Zeta to laugh. Yes, you knew that you hadn’t even gotten the segment to smile yet, but maybe getting him to laugh could be a step in that direction.

Should you pull out some of your favorite terrible and corny jokes? Well, that probably wouldn’t be very effective - those jokes only served to make you laugh at the segments’ disgusted and humorless expressions. Especially with a segment like Zeta, you think that for all of the loving looks he gave you, he might give you one that made you want to crawl into a hole.

Maybe he was ticklish? It was worth a try, actually - Zandy always ran away when you tried to tickle him, and when you tried to tickle Dottore back in the Akademiya, you think he nearly broke your arm. It didn’t work on the older segments, but maybe it would on Zeta!

On the day you put your plan into action, you were in the perfect position on his lap, examining the best spots on his body that could possibly be ticklish. His ears and neck, or perhaps you should just go for his sides instead. Your hands curled into his shirt automatically, fingers moving up to his side when Zeta spoke.

“I would prefer if you pulled these tricks on the others rather than me, especially when I’m working.” It took a few moments for you to process his words before you sat upright, trying to defend your innocence.

“Hey! I wasn’t going to do anything!” You said, pulling your hands away, but Zeta looked at you blankly.

“There are times when I cannot figure you out, and there are times when you are a very obvious person. This time is the latter.” You pouted at the half compliment, half insult as you snuggled into his shoulder in embarrassment, but Zeta spoke again.

“However, I recommend going for the neck if you are still insistent,” he said, and you immediately regained your energy as your hands gripped his shoulders, wandering dangerously close to his neck. “Though, I believe using your lips would be more effective,” Zeta added on, and you paused as you thought about what he was implying.

“... You’re just trying to get me to kiss you, aren’t you?”

“I am simply giving the answer you seek.”

“You know, you’re just lucky I like giving you kisses,” you mumbled, before giving in to his request. Well, that backfired, but this outcome wasn’t at all bad!

Still, it seems like Plan C resulted in a failure…

IV. plan d - try to discover the truth!

You’ve spent a while with Zeta by now, learning quite a bit about his likes and dislikes - how he didn’t have a preference for being kissed, satisfied with your soft lips being anywhere, how he hated being bothered by any other agents even if it was only occasionally. How his favorite places to kiss you were your wrists and chest, along with the hollow of your neck, exactly where your heartbeat was, and how he quickly became agitated if you showed even the slightest sign of discomfort from your illness.

You loved Zeta and all his little quirks.

But you still had little information as to why he was so dour all the time. It hurts your head sometimes, after listening to Beta’s exuberant rants or Omega’s effortless charisma or even Prime’s endless discussion of his latest research, to Zeta’s quietness that came with dull eyes staring at you. Sure, you had gotten him to open up a bit, but it was just too strange for you to let go of. Maybe you could just ask him, but you didn’t want to be rude… but if you wanted to make him smile, you wanted to know why he was so serious yet so down all the time…

The next best solution was to investigate his stuff. Yes, it wasn’t the nicest thing ever, but you needed answers. You had already glimpsed around Zeta’s office a bit, because you liked to help him wherever you could, and you didn’t see anything that could be a clue. So the next best place was his room. Granted, all the segments’ rooms were pretty bland and empty, but it was still worth a shot.

After you woke up from your coma, the segments started leaving their personal rooms unlocked, because you loved to wander into them and take naps on their beds. Even though they hardly visited their own rooms, it was a nice surprise to come back to the sight of you sleeping peacefully, definitely falling asleep to the scent of their shirt. And it wasn’t like anyone else could find the location of their quarters. Therefore, it wasn’t hard to slip into Zeta’s room.

Of course, his room was practically a copy of all the other rooms. Regardless, your eyes swept through the room, landing on the desk with drawers (because for some reason, they still could work in their own rooms.) That would be a good place to look. Taking a seat at the desk, you found nothing but boring reports, talking about some Patient E43 or X12 or whatever, nothing you were interested in.

Pulling open the drawers, some more loose papers were scattered about, none catching your eye, until you came across a notebook stashed toward the back. It was oddly familiar to the one you remember reading from when you first woke up, that you found in Prime’s office. Curiously, you picked it up and began to skim through the writing, taking note of the date that was from around two hundred years ago.

“It has been centuries since I last heard [Name]’s voice. I must keep replaying their annoying laugh and nagging tone in my head before I forget how they sound in this deafening silence.”

“Pierro spoke to me today. He didn’t say anything outright, but I knew what he meant. My research has slowed, but can’t these other idiots can operate without me? I have important matters to attend to.”

The entries went on, and on, and on, all detailing numerous failures and unsuccessful attempts of Dottore’s. Then, you got to the ones where the date got closer to the current time, a couple of decades ago.

“Even though my hands brush their skin every day, I seem to still be unaccustomed to the coldness of their body.”

“Their pulse is always the same. A dreadful, slow, heartbeat, that is nearly nonexistent. I despise it. And yet no matter how many trials I run, it remains the same.”

You continued to flip through the notebook that detailed so much about what he did in your coma, unethical actions that bordered on desperation. Even if he didn’t directly say his feelings, you could feel them flowing through you. Suddenly, Zeta’s nature made complete sense. It was due to the overwhelming failure he felt, even guilt, you’d say. Even you thought it was an uncharacteristic thing for him to feel - you rarely ever saw Prime display guilt unless it was a serious argument. But it was the only explanation, from these entries at least. Your heart suddenly began to hurt. You caused Zeta all this pain, in a way…

“Are you finished?” The voice now made your heart spike with surprise as you slammed the notebook shut, scrambling up from your seat to see none other than the segment, looking at you with an expression that seemed to say he wasn’t really surprised.

Now, this was just the most classic, cliche thing that would happen in one of the romance novels that always made you mad, but now that it was happening to you, you felt immense embarrassment.

“I- um, well,” you sputtered, trying to find an explanation, but there was none. “I’m sorry, Zeta. I’m sorry.” You avoided his gaze while he sighed.

“Go ahead. Ask what you’ve wanted to ask since the beginning.”

“Did you write this?” Your voice was quiet, the sadness layering over it thickly, as you put the notebook back where it was. No need for it anymore when you had Zeta in front of you.

“Yes and no. The more recent writing is from me. The earlier ones are from Prime himself, though I suppose you could consider it me as well since I am him from that stage of life,” he said as he began to walk toward you, until he was standing in front of you, taking note of your downcast look.

“Zeta… all of this, I don’t…” The vast emotion you felt from the writing made your head swing because you never thought Dottore could feel so… strongly, in that kind of way.

“Those fools from above tried to take you away from me… they tested me,” he breathed in your scent, finger tracing along your neck to feel your pulse. You tried to ignore how quickly you were heating up by the close proximity. “But they failed. Of course they did.” The malice in his voice then dissipated as he stepped away, gritting his teeth, and you already missed his warmth.

“But I…” You quickly interrupted him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly.

“You did not fail me, Zeta. Don’t say that,” you murmured as you brought his hand closer to your face, nuzzling it to your cheek. “I’m alive and breathing in front of you, aren’t I? That’s proof enough of how hard you worked. You don’t need to worry anymore,” you tried to comfort him.

“It is not enough,” he snapped, leaving you silent, as he then realized he didn’t mean to direct that tone toward you, stroking your cheek as a quiet apology. “I should have been able to wake you up sooner. I should have been able to cure you by now. If I was successful, things wouldn’t be the way they are now.”

Your heart couldn’t help but ache at the segment’s pain. You had no clue that he or Dottore himself felt this guilty when you were sleeping. The only thing you could do was hug Zeta, enveloping him in your arms. It was then you realized that even though you wished you could rid him of his sense of failure and guilt right now, you knew you couldn’t. It was a key characteristic of his at this phase… so you could only promise him something.

“Zeta… I can’t change the past or how you felt back then… but I can promise that my heart will never stop beating for you ever again. My arms will be here when you need them, I’ll talk to you so much you’ll miss the quiet, and I’ll make sure I keep you so warm you’ll overheat. I’ll never keep you waiting ever again,” you said gently but firmly, fingers curling into his shirt, hoping your words would reassure him a little bit. Zeta remained motionless for a few moments, and you worried that you said something wrong, but he then wrapped his arms around you too, holding you tightly.

“I will hold you to that, [Name],” he said, his voice still tinged with his regrets but also held something a bit softer.

“Of course.”

“There will be consequences if you go back on your word.”

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

“Yes, darling. You need not worry again.”

“Hmph…” Despite his gruff words, the way he held you said it all.

Plan D seemed like a failure on the surface, but you think you were pretty successful.

V. plan e - get a smile on that face!

It had been a little while since your numerous encounters with Zeta, and it was from then that you found out how clingy he could be. Nuzzling into your soft body, holding onto you when you said you were leaving, not wanting to relinquish you to the others. Now that you knew what he went through, you easily understood why though. However, you didn’t mention it at all unless you wanted to be ignored.

And now that you had gotten him to speak a bit more, you were blessed with the usual Dottore you knew and loved - more quips and banter filled the room, instead of the once-normal silence. Still, he liked the quiet between you two better, preferring to observe everything about you and take note of every change you went through, no matter how tiny it was. In a way, it made you more embarrassed than when the other segments would fluster you with words.

More importantly, you were able to become a bit more skilled in convincing Zeta to take breaks. You didn’t want him to constantly work on either his Fatui duties or your medicine, even though he was made to do so. So now you had convinced him to take merely a ten-minute break on your bed after he had finished a nightly check-up. It was always interesting to see how his touch would be fluttering and unsure at first, and then become firmer as he continued to take your presence in. And right now, he was taking in how you were fiddling with his fingers and playing with them. A sure sign that you were thinking of something.

“Is something wrong?” The blue-haired man questioned, as he ran his hand through your messy hair. Zeta liked seeing you like this, even if you tried to shoo him away from how disheveled you looked. It was much more preferable than seeing your unsettlingly perfect appearance and unmoving body, even if you kicked him in your sleep sometimes.

You sighed as you then turned on your side to face him, squinting your eyes at him carefully. Out of nowhere, you then moved your hands to the sides of his face, squeezing his cheeks in an effort to pull up his lips. Of course, it was over as quickly as it started as Zeta quickly removed your hands, scowling at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He said, not appreciative of the sudden tugging of his face. You only pouted as he held your hands hostage.

“I’ve spent this much time with you, and I still have yet to see you smile…” You buried your face into the soft pillows to lessen your disappointment.

“A smile?” The segment scoffed. “Is that what you were after the whole time? How meaningless.”

“It’s not dumb! It’s very important to me,” you protested. “Please, can I get a smile? A grin? Even an annoying smirk would do!” You pleaded with Zeta, seeing as it was your last resort, considering all your other plans didn’t work. Unfortunately, it looked like it wasn’t going to work on him in the slightest.

“No.”

“With sprinkles and cherries on- mhph!”

“Go to sleep,” he interrupted you as he pressed a finger to your lips, silencing your plea, before getting off the bed, already returning to his work. Sadly, your arms weren’t long enough to drag him back in time.

“Zeta,” you whined, wanting to indulge in his embrace some more although the blankets were already quite warm. “Don’t go so quickly.”

“Your eyes are drooping. The medicine is kicking in, so go to sleep,” his dry response made you grumble, but you knew he was looking out for you in his own way.

“Fine… good night, Zeta. Love you.” The segment had no response other than switching off the lights, and letting you get your rest.

You fell asleep thinking that hopefully, Plan F would finally get him to smile, not aware of the small smile that graced his lips.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #genshin dottore x reader #genshin dottore #dottore angst #il dottore #genshin il dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #zandik x reader #genshin impact dottore #dottore genshin #genshin impact x you #fragile reader <3 #divider by cafekitsune

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twilightcitysky · 1 year ago

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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)

Part one

Part two

There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.

So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.

I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.

Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.

Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.

Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.

It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?

They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.

And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)

And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.

Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.

It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens season 2 #gos2 #good omens season two #crowley #aziraphale #maggie #nina #defense mechanisms #the psychology of good omens #everything is meant #ineffable husbands

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woodywood101blog · 8 days ago

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Experimental: 34 Weeks, Part 1

After a couple of days to recover from both the jetlag and the general discomfort of flying with a massive belly, Yazan made the most of the beautiful Sydney weather to explore one key location he had always wanted to explore: the Sydney Opera House. He occasionally plays the piano, so being able to come to the Concert Hall and watch an incredible piano concerto with the Sydney Symphony accompanying the artist was spellbinding.

Although it was a bit awkward sitting in seats which were clearly not designed for extremely pregnant people, Yazan and the babies relaxed and let the wonders of the performance wash over them. Randy looked across and could see Yazan blissfully enjoying the show while slowly rubbing the belly. He slowly moved his hand across to rest it on top of Yazan’s belly. Yazan briefly looked across and lightly smiled back at Randy. Yazan reached for Randy’s hand and moved it towards where the babies were rolling around. Randy’s eyes bulged, and so did his dick. He could not stop being so ravenously horny when he imagined Yazan looking even more bloated than he currently is.

The following day, Yazan and Randy arranged to meet Mike at the University of Sydney, so that Yazan could meet the research team, do some basic tests and scans, and to finally work out what was going on, and how the hell he became pregnant in the first place.

After some basic measurements were taken, Yazan laid down on a bench and lifted his shirt to prepare for an ultrasound. Randy sat next to Yazan, eagerly awaiting the screen to see the four babies. When the four babies appeared on screen, they both had tears welling up.

“There are four perfectly healthy babies in there, Yazan. This is amazing…” Mike said. “Do you want to know the genders?”

“Sure!”

“I can see… three boys and one girl.”

Yazan started crying. It’s really happening. He is actually about to start a whole family in one go, with three sons and a daughter. He hadn’t thought much about having children, but going through this pregnancy made him realise that he had secretly wanted to have kids but just knew it was never going to happen, because of both his sexuality and his profession. Being pregnant himself turned his whole world upside-down, but also made it feel right again.

“God, I’m so emotional these days!” Yazan chuckled as he tried to dry away the tears, with Randy cleaning Yazan’s belly.

“I know an easy way to bring you back to Earth. Blood and urine tests!” Mike interjected. Yazan and Randy turned and glared at Mike.

Following the needles and jugs of water, Yazan, Randy and Mike were able to sit down in Mike’s office to discuss what the remaining 2 months would look like here in Sydney. Mike explained that his whole team were subject to incredibly strict research confidentiality agreements, so the likelihood of things going public were incredibly low unless Yazan did something crazy like go and talk to the media himself. Mike strongly recommended coming back to the lab once a week to do the same ultrasound, blood and urine tests, but understood if Yazan didn’t have the energy or ability to travel to the lab. They were prepared for whatever would happen, including an urgent transfer to the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital if required to one of their private delivery rooms. In other words, Yazan was in safe hands with Mike.

“So, any questions?” Mike asked Yazan.

“Well, where do I begin? Randy, would you be able to step outside for a minute please?” Randy nodded and quietly stepped away and shut the door behind him.

“Question 1: will you finally tell me how the fuck a man, with a penis, scrotum, testicles - the whole shebang - managed to grow tits, a ‘uterus’, an egg and become pregnant?”

***

Randy had a wander around the lab to see what is happening in the world of gynaecology. He didn’t exactly enjoy studying it in medical school, but needed to know parts of it in order to understand paediatrics. One of the research assistants, a second-year medical student named Anna, noticed he looked a bit lost, and asked if he was waiting for anyone in particular.

“Ah, yeah, Yazan and Mike are talking in private.”

“Oh, no worries… Hey, you seem like you vaguely know your way around a lab?”

“Yeah, I’m a paediatrician.”

“Oh, amazing! I’m kinda keen on giving that a go actually.”

And sure enough, Anna invited Randy to come and have a look inside the secure lab to see what they were working on. Anna asked a million questions to Randy about his work, the patients, his hospital, working in the United States compared to Australia, and all the questions an eager medical student would ask of a doctor in their field of expertise. Meanwhile, Randy was looking around to see if there were any hints of the project that caused Yazan to become pregnant in the first place.

“Hey, just a question Anna, and totally fine if you can’t answer, but… How exactly did Yazan become pregnant?”

“Oh, right…” Anna directed Randy towards a storeroom in the corner containing a small box of vials filled with what looks like salt. “Technically, you should not be allowed in here, but if we stay quiet, no one will notice. There are no cameras nearby, so we’re safe unless someone comes looking for us.”

“Alright…” Randy quickly looked around and turned back to Anna. “This just looks like salt?”

“Yes, it does look like salt, but it’s actually heavily concentrated hormonal supplements. These supplements are so powerful that they could dramatically speed up the period of time required for trans people to undertake hormonal replacement therapy, from 8 months down to 1 month.”

“A month?”

“Yes, and as far as our research scope was, that was it. But Mike was secretly interested in seeing what else this supplement could do, so he adjusted some of the compounds to revive a formerly rejected project: male pregnancy.”

“What do you mean rejected?”

“The University’s ethics committee rejected further funding of the project for ethical reasons.”

“Further funding? Does that mean this was already tested on someone?”

“Mike tested it on himself, but he only made it to three weeks pregnant before his body started rejecting the supplements.”

“What happens when the supplements are rejected?”

“Mike said it almost felt like a uterine rupture. Very aggressive, requires heavy medical intervention.”

“How serious?”

“If left untreated, there is a high risk of fatality.”

Randy looked back down at the box of vials and picked one of the vials up. “How could one of these vials get Yazan pregnant so quickly?”

“That’s the part we don’t understand. The hormones are meant to take anywhere between 24 to 48 hours to kick in, so the fact that it kicked in over the course of a dinner is astounding. But… I just think Mike was a bit heavy-handed in dosage.”

“Have you raised that with him?”

“No, I’m just a second-year student.”

“A second-year student working on revolutionary research! Anna, this is the kind of stuff you should test and confirm! If Yazan received a higher dosage than expected, we need to know what effects it has on him. I - we need to confirm that he is safe.”

***

Yazan felt the room spinning after Mike explained what happened that night at the Oxford Hotel.

“You drugged me, you assaulted me, and now I’m here with an extremely high-risk pregnancy?!”

Mike looked down towards his feet.

“I thought I had cancer, Mike. Cancer! I had no idea what was going on when I started experiencing morning sickness, tender nipples, swollen pecs, sore hips, swollen feet, abdominal cramps, extreme mood swings, lethargy, hypersensitivity to certain smells… you name it, I had it. Four fucking times over! And you have the fucking audacity to ask me to be your ‘research subject’? Go to fucking hell, Mike!”

Yazan stood up as assertively as he could and waddled towards the door.

Just as Yazan was about to walk out of the office, Mike asked, “Will you at least come here for the ultrasounds? We genuinely want to make sure the babies are healthy.”

“Randy can do it.”

Mike shook his head. “Fine.”

Yazan waddled out of the office and yelled, “Randy, we’re leaving!”

“Oh shit, gotta go. Thanks for the information, Anna!” Randy said to Anna as he quickly sped out of the storeroom to catch up to Yazan. Anna looked down at the box of vials, thinking.

***

Yazan wanted to go for a walk of some sort to clear his mind, so after navigating Sydney’s trains and buses, they found a relatively easy walking track near Bondi Beach.

Yazan spent most of the time venting about Mike and how he managed to change Yazan’s life forever.

“Do you realise that whatever magic salt he gave me means I now have a fully functional uterus and an ovary? I can now become pregnant like any other woman. Who the fuck does that to a guy?!”

Randy’s mind was spinning from the information Anna provided to him about the hormonal supplements.

“Yazan, please be careful.”

“What? Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I am. It’s just… You need to be more careful. Right, let’s take a break from walking. You’ve been on your feet all afternoon.”

“I am fine, I am not invalid. Just because I’m -”

At that moment, a group of young guys were walking past and looked suspiciously at Yazan and Randy’s argument. They sniggered when they saw Yazan’s ridiculously large belly. Yazan and Randy looked back at them, then waited until they were gone.

Yazan loudly whispered, “Just because I’m fucking pregnant, doesn’t mean I can’t walk.”

“I get that, but I just want you to be careful.”

“What do you mean, Randy?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Yaz! You’re my best friend, and frankly this whole project is scaring me and I just…” Randy burst into tears. Surprised by the sudden outburst, Yazan pulled Randy into a tight hug.

“Randy… I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Randy looked down towards Yazan’s belly, which was moving at the sensation of being stuck between two men hugging tightly. They chuckled. “See, they all agree!” Randy laughed as they walked together back towards the bus stop to the city.

Over the following weeks, Yazan and Randy made the most of their time in Sydney. Alongside the weekly ultrasound and blood and urine tests, they also explored the region. They went across to the Blue Mountains to see the Three Sisters and have lunch at the Hydro Majestic. They went north towards Palm Beach to see where Home and Away is filmed. They even hired a car and drove down to Canberra to see the national institutions and Parliament.

It also became abundantly clear that Yazan’s body was experiencing more and more pressure carrying four large babies further than expected. He was struggling to stay on his feet for long periods of time, both because his feet were sore and because of the pressure on his bladder and prostate. He was struggling to stay focused because he was emotional, exhausted and vaguely aroused by the changing sensations across his body. His nipples were permanently sensitive to any touch, including Randy’s when he accidentally tapped Yazan’s chest in jest.

Randy was amazed by how big Yazan continued to grow. His latent fascination with the transformation became more prominent as Yazan’s belly continued to bulge outwards. Randy took any opportunity to sit close to Yazan and feel the babies move around. Yazan noticed Randy’s interest in the belly, and started to wear clothes that stretched tightly across every part of his body, allowing Randy to see every little movement and ripple.

Ever since Yazan said he now had a fully-functioning uterus and ovary, Randy could not get the image out of his mind that he wanted to get Yazan pregnant again, but this time with his kid, or kids! He would furiously jack off in the bathroom to thoughts of Yazan with a huge pregnancy belly, tits leaking milk and waddling everywhere with his fattened ass and thighs. He never imagined he would get so aroused seeing Yazan like this, but now that it’s happening, he doubts he’ll ever see Yazan in the same way again.

***

One afternoon, Yazan and Randy were catching up on a Netflix show. Yazan laid on the sofa, feeling the odd rolling of a baby around his belly when he groaned.

“Ugh, Randy, I’m so bored!”

“Well… we could go out somewhere?”

“Looking like this? No way!”

“Yaz, I’m sure you’ve got some bigger clothes that will fit, and if not, I’ll run across to a store and get some for you, okay?”

Yazan childishly replied, “Fine, I’ll see what I can find.” He raised his hands towards Randy to get help sitting up and getting off the sofa. With a strong pull, Yazan got up and groaned as gravity started pushing down on his hips and legs, and slowly began to move towards his bedroom to find some clothes to wear.

Once he felt ready to move, they walked towards the bus to get towards the city centre. Yazan and Randy wandered around the city to see what food options were around, with frequent breaks for Yazan. Occasionally, Randy would ask Yazan to stand briefly for some tourist shots. “Gotta remember these moments, Yaz! You might not be pregnant again!” Randy would remind Yazan. Yazan chuckled as he posted sideways in front of St Mary’s Cathedral, emphasising his widened physique.

They eventually settled on a Sydney institution for dinner that immediately satiated Yazan’s cravings: Pancakes on The Rocks. The delicious and fluffy pancakes were made even better with the staff being more than able to provide additional extra sides for Yazan, like streaky bacon and avocado alongside his double serving of butterscotch cream pancakes. Randy was impressed, and slightly concerned, by the mixing of flavours Yazan was experimenting with.

“So, Yaz, have you thought much about how these babies are going to come out?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Yaz!” Randy looked around and leant in. “You’re 33 weeks pregnant with quads. You’re probably going to drop four babies at any moment. As much as you don’t want to think about it, I think it’s time you do take it seriously. How are they going to come out? We should reach out to Mike -”

“Absolutely not! We’re going to be fine, all of us.” Yazan loudly whispered back as he rubbed his belly more aggressively.

“Fine, but I just want you and the kids to be safe, so if anything does go wrong -”

At that moment, a waiter dropped a fork nearby while trying to clear a table. The sudden clanging of cutlery caused a baby nearby to scream and cry. Randy looked back towards Yazan once the situation with the baby resolved.

“Uhh, Yaz?” Randy was staring at Yazan’s chest.

“What?” and it was at that moment Yazan looked down and saw two dark patches spreading around his chest area. He gasped and looked back at Randy in horror, while Randy was staring so intensely at the patches that continued to expand.

“Fucking hell, Randy! Am I lactating?!”

“Seems like it, babe.” Yazan shook his head in confusion. “Sorry, Yaz!” Randy shook his head. “Let’s get you back home, shall we? We’re probably a 5-minute Uber away from here.”

Yazan grabbed some tissues and stuffed them under his shirt to try and soak up whatever was going on. While there, he got some of the milk on his finger and looked at it more closely. “It’s… more yellow than I thought?”

“Ahh, it’s not milk, it’s colostrum.”

“Duh, of course! How could I forget that?”

“Well, you haven’t had to think about medicine for a while, Yaz. You’ve had some other more important things to worry about!”

Yazan laughed, “Yeah, I guess so…” as he rubbed his belly while getting into the cramped Uber.

#mpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg morph #pregnant man #short story #experimental

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nyx-umbrakinesis · 2 months ago

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Hi there! This story is a tribute to @redfoxwritesstuff story A Misdemeanor of the Heart. If you have not done so I'd strongly recommend reading it now, this is going to be a bit of a multi chapter series of dreams that slot into the canon placements of Misdemeanor but once Misdemeanor ends I will be making my own little smutty AU world out of it too, so this follows Alastor and You in a kinda blended parallel world if you will.

Cw: smut, non penetrative rutting.

Alastor x Reader.

... A bit of a prelude... This first dream isn't much of a surprise to him, he's had wet dreams before, and he's gotten used to your presence and has even started to feel rather fond of you atp so this won't cause him distress, this is a dream that will start mid smut already.

His dreamscape dropping him right in it but his mindset still controlling the fact that he knows he doesn't want penetrative sex with you due to your marriage so it's a bit of a subconscious desire to see you come undone for him in a way that would be agreeable to him in a very pleasant way.

But also it's a power struggle, he's feeling a bit powerless because he's not used to these sort of enotuons and with you trapped with another man it sets him on edge. (this is a bit early but should slot in around chapter 22)

Here's...

Inappropriate Demeanour. Chapter 1. (Wet.)

Alastor's eyes flash with triumph and delight at your actions, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he feels your warmth enveloping his throbbing cock. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he begins to move in slow, sensual circles, letting you adjust to the pleasure.

"Mmm, that's my good girl," he purrs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "You're learning so quickly. Just let go and enjoy the ride."

Alastor's hands roam your back, kneading and caressing the lush curves of your ass as he grinds against you with increasing urgency. His lips trail kisses along your collarbone, leaving a damp, heated path in their wake.

"You're absolutely right, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "This is more than okay. In fact, it's perfect. We can explore all the ways I can pleasure you without crossing that line... yet."

As he speaks, Alastor's fingers skim down the backs of your thighs. He squeezes and kneads the supple flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly against your slick heat.

"Just keep moving like that," he encourages, his voice a low, sultry growl. "Rub yourself all over my cock. Show me how much you crave my touch."

Alastor groans low in his throat as you continue to grind against him, your slick folds sliding tantalizingly along the length of his cock. His hands roam your body with renewed enthusiasm, exploring every curve and hollow, mapping out the territory he's soon to conquer.

He hisses, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he loses himself in the sensation of your warm, wet heat surrounding him. "You feel incredible. Like you were made for me."

One hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in gentle, circular motions, coaxing out more of your sweet juices to lubricate his movements.

"That's it, dear, just like that," Alastor praises, his voice strained with lust. "Ride my cock, let me play with your pretty little clit. Let me watch you fall apart on my fingers."

He increases the pressure, adding a second finger to join the first in a steady, pumping rhythm designed to drive you wild. Alastor's other hand grips your hip, holding you in place as he rubs your clit just right with his fingers, determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.

As you continue to grind against him, Alastor's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he loses himself in the intoxicating sensation of your wet heat sliding along his length. He lets out a low, guttural moan, the sound vibrating against your skin as he rolls his hips in time with yours, meeting each thrust with a counter-movement of his own.

"Fuuuck, Love," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel incredible... Like heaven in my hands. Keep doing that, just like that..."

Alastor's tongue darts out to lick at the pulse point in your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin as he suckles and nips at your flesh. His other hand slides higher, cupping your breasts and squeezing the pliant mounds through the fabric of your clothes one by one.

"Fuck, I love these," he murmurs, his thumbs rubbing circular patterns over your nipples. "So perfect, just begging to be freed. Maybe later, hmm? For now, let's focus on getting you nice and worked up..."

With a wicked grin, Alastor tugs at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core. He increases the tempo of his movements, his cock sliding effortlessly through your dripping folds as he chases his own release.

Alastor's breathing grows more labored, his hips rocking in urgent, insistent thrusts as he chases the edge of climax. He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back to expose the column of your throat, which he devours with hungry kisses and bites.

His fingers dance across your sensitized skin, leaving trails of electric pleasure in their wake. He sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his own as his hips piston relentlessly against yours. The friction is divine, his cock sliding through your slick heat with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Yes, darling, just like that," he groans, his voice a low, guttural rasp. "Ride me, take what you need. You're so fucking sexy like this, all desperate and needy for me."

Alastor's breath comes in ragged gasps as he loses himself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure between your bodies. His fingers work tirelessly at your clit, the pads of his digits expertly stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

Your entire body is trembling, every nerve ending electrified by the exquisite sensations coursing through you. You can barely think, lost in the haze of pleasure that Alastor's skilled touch evokes. Each grinding thrust of his hips against yours sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, the friction of his hard length rubbing against your slick folds an endless source of bliss.

You whine and arch your back, pushing your chest further into his palms as he teases your aching nipples. Your inner walls clench around nothing, craving more of that delicious pressure.

The feeling of being so thoroughly touched, is overwhelming, and you find yourself hanging precariously on the knife's edge of orgasm, feeling his thick weeping glans and broad shaft sliding through your folds and bumping your clit and his fingers, making you rut even harder against him, like trying to scratch an itch only his cock can reach.

Alastor's fingers on your clit are relentless, circling and pinching the sensitive nub until sparks of pure bliss shoot through your veins. Every stroke, every tweak, every graze of his teeth on your skin sends you spiraling closer to the precipice. You can feel your release building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly like a spring ready to snap.

"Please," you beg, voice barely above a whisper, "don't stop..."

You know it's futile, to plead for mercy. Alastor seems intent on driving you mad with pleasure, and you're powerless to resist.

Alastor's fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, the pad of his thumb pressing down firmly on the sensitive bud as his index finger drags circles around it. He knows exactly how to manipulate your body, using every trick in the book to push you closer and closer to the brink.

His other hand grips your hip firmly, anchoring you in place as he grinds his cock against your aching sex with increased fervor. The thick head of his member nudges against your entrance with each pass, the pressure and friction driving you wild with need.

"Look at you," Alastor pants, his voice heavy with lust. "So responsive, so perfect. You were made for this, for me. I can tell by the way you're shaking, the way you're begging for more."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're going to come for me, aren't you? Right here, right now, all over my cock. I can feel it, the way your pussy is so needy, desperate for my thickness."

Alastor's words send a shiver down your spine, the promise of impending release fueling the fire burning within you. He increases the speed and intensity of his ministrations, his fingers flying over your clit in a dizzying blur as he drives you closer to the edge.

"You're so close."

Alastor's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he senses your approaching climax. A triumphant growl rumbles in his chest as he redoubles his efforts, his cock sliding against your slick folds with increased vigor, seeking to draw out every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.

"That's it, sweetheart, let go, he commands, his voice a husky growl. Cum for me, soak my cock with your sweet juices. I want to feel you lose control."

His words are a potent aphrodisiac, pushing you closer to the brink with each spoken syllable. Alastor's cock throbs in time with your racing heart, the head swelling and leaking pre-cum with every plunge into your heat. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious friction that threatens to consume you entirely.

His fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud with merciless precision. Alastor's tongue laps at your neck, tasting the salt of your skin and blood as he marks you with his own brand of possession, his teeth piercing you just so.

As if sensing your imminent climax, Alastor adjusts his angle, grinding his pelvis against your clit with each thrust. The added stimulation proves to be the final straw, and with a keening cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave.

Your inner walls clench and spasm around nothing, desperate for the fulfillment only his cock can provide. At the same moment, his own climax crashes over him, his thick seed erupting from his pulsing member in hot, sticky jets.

The intense pleasure becomes too much to bear, your body tensing and then releasing in a violent convulsion as you come undone. Your vision whites out, overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax. You throw you head back, mouth open in an erotic cry of his name as ecstasy rips through you.

A torrent of fluid gushes forth from your core, shooting onto Alastor's pelvis and cock. Your cunt spasms wildly, contracting and releasing in rapid succession as your squirt, your hole twitching, the force of your orgasm propelling the streams of clear liquid coating his skin to soak the front of his pants. The sensation is both mortifying and exhilarating, your body seemingly beyond your own control as it writhes and bucks against his.

Alastor's growl of completion echoes through the room, mingling with your own keening cries of ecstasy as the two of you ride out the aftershocks of your shared release. His cock throbs against your slick folds, milking every last tremor of pleasure from your quivering body as he pours his essence over the folds of your sex, your dress an utter mess.

As the waves of your intense orgasm begin to ebb, Alastor holds you close, his strong arms wrapped protectively around your shaking form. He presses tender kisses to your sweaty brow, the bridge of your nose, and your parted lips, savoring the taste of your pleasure on his tongue.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper filled with awe and reverence. "Absolutely stunning. You took that so well, dear. I knew you'd be incredible, but wow..."

Alastor's hands roam your back, stroking and soothing the trembling muscles as he helps you catch your breath. His cock, still semi-erect, pulses against your thigh, a reminder of the passion that just consumed you both.

"You're amazing," he repeats, punctuating each word with a gentle squeeze of your curves. "So responsive, so open to pleasure. I could get used to this, to watching you fall apart for me again and again."

He chuckles low in his throat, the sound rich with satisfaction.

He holds you close, his arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, savoring the taste of your skin and the scent of your arousal that clings to him.

"That was incredible," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky rasp. "You came so beautifully for me, darling. Look at all that lovely cream you squirted everywhere."

Alastor's fingers lazily trace the rivulets of your release that coat his abdomen, smearing the clear fluid across his skin. He chuckles, a sound rich with satisfaction and dark amusement.

"And I thought you were going to be such a shy little thing," he teases, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "But it turns out you're quite the naughty girl, squirting all over my lap like that."

Despite the embarrassing nature of your involuntary reaction, Alastor's tone is playful rather than mocking. If anything, he seems impressed and even a bit proud of your responsiveness, the way your body surrendered to the pleasure he elicited.

He gazes down at you with a smug, satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a possessive light as he takes in the sight of you - disheveled, flushed, and utterly debauched.

"Well, well, well," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky rasp. "Looks like someone enjoyed themselves."

Alastor's fingers trace the curve of your breast, his touch lingering as he admires the evidence of your passion; the rosy hue of your skin, the slight swell of your chest, the way your nipples still pebble visibly despite the heat of your arousal.

His thumb stroking over the sensitive covered peak. "Such a good girl."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. Alastor's tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours in a sensual dance that leaves you weak-kneed and yearning for more.

As the surges of euphoria fade, Alastor's hands begin to wander again, his fingers delving beneath your ruined dress working to help you out of it and carrying you to the bathroom to help you clean up, taking delicate care of you that belied how demanding he'd been and helping you get tucked into his bed, his arms around you, you trace his slightly darker skin with your fingertips admiring how the lean muscles flex and shift under them.

He kisses you gently and bids you goodnight.

Alastor wakes with a gasp, his looks around for you in confusion only to realise he's still alone in his cold empty bed, his sheer rage that someone else has you in there's cannot be quelled, but the wet mess in his pants needs attending to now it seems.

With a sigh he rolls out of bed and drags his feet heavily across the floor to the bathroom, the sun just rising and glowing through the cracks in his curtains as he attends to his mess, aggrieved that you're not there to clean up too...

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lexirosewrites · 5 months ago

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This is for Slick Sunday!!!

So. I was watching this voice over of some random Tumblr post about how Vampires are to carpenters what furries are for artists(allegedly), bc they can make the ideal coffin for each individual and things like that, and like??? I got inspired. So this is what I have:

Totally established ABO situation, where Steve is an unusual Omega, simply for the fact that after his family disowned him he became a carpenter and if being a jock had given him some muscles, being a carpenter made him ripped.

But no one wants an Omega like that, no matter how sweet he is whether in scent or personality, it also doesn't help that Steve has a shit taste in Alphas.

Anyways, enter Eddie, a Vampire (whether he has a designation and/or what it is up in the air (although I prefer him as an Alpha)) who's looking for a new coffin for his Uncle Wayne, an incredibly old vampire (probably a beta) who met him when he was young and adopted Eddie before turning him at the age of 25 (Eddie was dying, and there wasn't a cure for him yet, but that was Wayne's kid, he couldn't let him die so young), because his Uncle's coffin is like, old, Eddie asked and the thing is a certified antique, it's at least a 100 years old and almost falling apart no matter how much care Wayne puts into it.

So Eddie finds out about this carpenter, the guy has never worked for vampires before, but Robin (a local witch and another Omega) recommended him so strongly Eddie agreed to check him out.

Eddie gets immediately infatuated with Steve, the guy is handsome, with a sweet personality, and a body Eddie just wants to sink his teeth into...

So they get talking about the request, and it ends up being a long collaboration, since Eddie didn't actually go prepared for the appointment, so he keeps visiting Steve to make adjustments to the coffin's design and stuff like that.

And if he also uses that time to get to know Steve better and maybe flirt a little? It's nobody's business.

(and maybe Steve also answers sometimes, with

So anyways, Steve finishes the task and is sad he won't see Eddie again, won't get to bask into his amazingly comforting scent again, thinking that the guy probably will leave him behind like so many other commissioners before him who came by, sweet talked him, that even got him into bed one time, and then left once their product was finished, only to never return.

So When Eddie comes to pick up the finished coffin he finds an incredibly sad Omega , and of course he immediately asks what's wrong, does Steve feel bad, should he call Robin? But Steve is so overwhelmed by this simple show of care that he confesses on the spot.

And Eddie is obviously overjoyed by this, corresponding to Steve in that exact moment, zero doubts in his mind that he'll be with Steve for as long as Steve wants him.

Plus: Steve finds out a week into dating that Eddie is a vampire and is very offended that his boyfriend (soon to be mate) tried to hide something so important from him, meanwhile Eddie is like "Babe. Baby. Sweetheart. I literally asked for a bed coffin, I told you my uncle was more than a hundred years old, I once got into your workshop fully bloodstained, fangs out, because I was running late and my last feeding was rough"

"I thought that was paint from those minis you told me you were working on!"

And then they recreate the twilight meme for the funsies.

(and maybe a long time from now they'll be mates, and Steve will turn into a vampire after being Eddie's part-time bloodbag for years, and they'll have a coven full of kids, some theirs, some adopted, but all of them wholly loved and cherished)

And that's all I have in me rn, I really hope you enjoy Lexi, happy day!

(also, fun fact, halfway through writing this I got so distracted by the romance that I forgot about the ABO part of things, and then I tried to revise it, but I'm not sure I did a good job, this could probably be way more abo than it is, lmaoo)

hehe monsterfucker steve is very dear to me, especially when he’s an omega and willing to submit to an alpha as their prey in more way than one💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks

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starrysnowdrop · 28 days ago

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Heyo! So I happened to see your recent ask response regarding Zenos randomly, and, honestly, I'm kind of curious on what people miss about his character! I'm not a personal big fan of him(ngl he kind of creeped me out with his, projecting himself on the wol it felt like? Note I say that as a WHM main who plays as truly heroic WoL(s) most of the time admittedly, so most of his stuff made me go no? alot XD I don't mind people who do like him tho! They're cool!), but I'm interested in understanding him better if possible, cause I know I miss things that others don't and I don't think I've seen anyone explain his intricacies without being somewhat rude about it, but you explained what you did without coming off as that. So I'm kind of curious on that essay you almost wrote if you'd be alright writing it XD (Sorry for being on anon, I am, very shy qwq)

In case you’re not familiar with what this anon is asking about, this is in response to my answer to this ask HERE. Feel free to go read that one and come back!

So, I first want to say thank you for being brave enough to reach out to me about this, even on anon!! I’m really glad that you didn’t find my comments to be rude, as that is the very last thing that I would want! If anyone did find me too abrasive in my previous post above, then I wholeheartedly apologize for that. I would never want anyone to be afraid to reach out to me because I came off as rude at some point, so I appreciate you letting me know that you didn’t think I was. 💖

Alright, now let’s get to the topic at hand: Zenos, and why I truly think that he is the most misunderstood character in FFXIV.

Zenos: The Most Misunderstood Character in FFXIV

((I wrote way too much, so it’s under the cut.))

Alright, so let’s start with what I have seen as the popular take on Zenos that I see as wrong: A lot of players see Zenos as a one dimensional character that has no depth, and doesn’t have a character arc in which he grows as a character. They see him as the annoying antagonist who has a battle boner for the WoL and that’s it. They only see his bloodlust and nothing else. They don’t think there is anything else to him, and that’s where I must strongly disagree.

So, how is he not a one dimensional character? Well, that’s because he really is a complex character, but you need to be paying close attention to what Zenos is actually saying and what his actions are throughout the story.

One can piece together Zenos’ complexity purely from watching the cutscenes, but just in case anyone is curious about going into more depth on his backstory, then I highly recommend that you go read his side story from the Chronicles of Light book entitled “The Hunt Begins”. It shows how Zenos was raised, and it reinforces why he thinks the way that he does.

Without going into his backstory too much, for brevity's sake, Zenos is actually a prodigy, someone who was born with not only incredible strength, but also incredible intelligence, and you know what happens when gifted kids don't get enough of a challenge? Yup, they get easily bored. So keep that in mind as we move along. Now, mix that boredom with a good dose of Anhedonia, or the inability to experience pleasure or joy. Now we aren't sure if he was born with Anhedonia, or if he acquired it through some mental health condition, such as PTSD, depression, etc. I'm no psychologist whatsoever, so I'm not here to diagnose Zenos with any particular disorder, but it is clear that he suffers from the lack of feeling joy or pleasure in his life.

This is actually what characterizes Zenos the most when we first are introduced to him in 4.0; he is suffering from Anhedonia AND Ennui, which according to Webster's Dictionary, is not just a feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction, but its a profound sense of boredom that arises from feeling jaded with one's life.

Zenos is suffering from a lack of joy and pleasure in his life, seeing the world as meaningless and dull, and he has found only one sole pleasure in all of it: The Hunt*. But what he means by The Hunt, is that he wants to fight the most challenging foes, challenging enough that he must put his all into the battle and be pushed to the brink of death. Only this kind of challenging battle will give him any sense of joy at all. For him at this point, there has been nothing else which has brought him joy, so he seeks out this sole pleasure.

And THAT is what Zenos' motivation is. He is not mindless in his pursuit of battle. His bloodlust stems from the desire to feel some kind of happiness at all, and unlike what some might think, not any foe will do. Zenos does not fight mindlessly against anyone at any time. That is not true. If an enemy is no threat to him, unless they purposely get in his way, he will not fight them.

This is true from the first time you see Zenos on the battlefield. At Rhalgr's Reach, Zenos sought out only the strongest fighters there, and two of them (Lyse and Y'shtola) got in his way first, and he defeated them easily. When he fights the WoL, the one who he has heard so much about, and definitely the strongest opponent among them, he becomes curious and hopes that we will give him what he wants. But in that first battle with him, he swats the WoL away like a fly, and they pose no challenge to him at all, to which he calls them "Pathetic", and then he immediately leaves, ultimately disappointed.

Note that Zenos had every opportunity to kill Lyse, Y’shtola, and the WoL if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He leaves them alone after he defeats them. That’s not the sign of someone who is so sadistic that he’s only out for blood. The fact of the matter here is that Zenos is trying to feel something from battle, something that he has never experienced before: pure joy.

Zenos doesn’t experience this joy until he fights the WoL again several times; first he gets just a hint of it, a tiny spark, when the WoL breaks a piece of his helmet off, and he feels it even more later on when Zenos fights the WoL in the Ala Mhigan throne room. This is when Zenos goes into his monologue before he releases and takes over Shinryu, and note that the joy and pleasure he is describing seems to have a sexual tone to it, which I promise I have a point to make about that in a bit.

After the battle with Zenos as Shinryu, he finally feels the joy that he has never felt in his entire life, and because he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel anything like it ever again, Zenos takes his own life, happy to have played a bit part in the story of his “first friend”.

But as we know, Zenos doesn’t stay dead. He finds himself alive once more, and he has a singular goal: to feel that pure bliss, that overwhelming joy that he felt when he fought the WoL in the Royal Menagerie in Ala Mhigo. From ShB through EW, Zenos’ goal doesn’t change, but he does change in his understanding of what it means to have a “friend” and how he can feel happiness.

During EW, Zenos has several scenes where his understanding of his feelings seems to grow, and though that sexual tone to his descriptions of what he’s feeling towards his battle with the WoL is still there, I would argue that over time, it seems to have more and more of a romantic tone to it as well. And with this shift in his tone when describing his feelings, he also seems to question his understanding of it all.

Zenos’ character growth is the whole point of two very important scenes: the Scions and Jullus encountering Zenos in Garlemald while fighting the blasphemies, and later when Zenos goes to the Royal Menagerie alone. The first of these scenes reinforces the themes of EW with Zenos’ philosophy of life, but it is also the first time that someone says something that makes Zenos question his beliefs.

Alisaie’s words to Zenos hit him hard, and Zenos goes back to the Royal Menagerie, to the scene of where he had his one transcendent moment, his one time in his life when he felt joy, pleasure, and happiness. He realizes in this moment that, whatever you believe Zenos’ true feelings are for the WoL, which I personally argue that it is love that he feels for them, but regardless, Zenos cannot continue to be selfish and only think about his own wants and desires. He must act selflessly, and assist in the WoL’s battle against the Endsinger and stop the Final Days, in order for the WoL to give him what he wants in return. He finally realizes that it’s this give and take, this reciprocation between people, is the key to building bonds with others… Zenos finally learns what it is to be a “friend” to someone. After this moment, Zenos goes to Sharlayan to find a way to help out the WoL in their mission to save the star, and to finally be a friend to them.

And you know what that is? That’s growth. That’s having a character arc. That’s Zenos in all of his complexity. Which I still say that it’s perfectly fine to not like his character, but I only wish that people would not like him with a clear understanding of what he really is, and not what others think he is.

Alright, I think I have blabbed on long enough, but I hope that I have answered your question anon! If you need me to clarify anything further, please don’t hesitate to ask me! Thank you so much for your ask anon, and thank you to all who have read this! 💖

#asks and replies #anon asks #zenos galvus #zenos yae galvus #zenos viator galvus #I think I love this man too much #I could’ve written more but I realized how long it is already

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