#i wonder how my interest in them will be when i get older. i certainly know that i will miss them if i stop thinking about them

[hollow-vok]

Ohh im obssesed

[russellsppttemplates]

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

.

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

[superectojazzmage]

Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.

Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.

In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.

The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.

It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.

More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.

Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.

The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.

In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.

I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.

Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.

I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.

The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.

The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.

One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?

All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.

[starcurtain]

I think it is particularly interesting how Aventurine's relationships with Jade and Topaz were depicted in 2.3.

At the risk of inciting the wrath of Aventurine/Topaz shippers (I'm sorry, everyone can ship what they want; this particular ship just isn't for me!), their interactions were framed in a very familial manner, at least when Aventurine was involved.

Jade is clearly projecting herself as a mother figure for him, directly calling him "child," a "kid," and taking on a disciplinarian role such as in this scene, where she nabs both their room keys to stop them from whining at each other. On Jade's end, this is very deliberate--given what we know of her cornerstone ability, she can almost certainly see the void that Aventurine's mother's death left in his life, and she is intentionally acting in a maternal manner in order to ensure his compliance and respect. (Personally, I'm of the opinion that Aventurine is smart enough to clock this manipulation tactic, but also that he's going along with it because why not? He was going to be manipulated anyway, might as well get free mom out of it.)

Topaz, meanwhile, definitely feels like she's being cast in the "annoyed sibling" role, particularly in this scene where they squabble so much the Trailblazer can't get a word in edgewise and Jade has to step in as the parent figure to correct their behavior.

Although the relationship is clearly different than the kind and supportive one we saw between young Kakavasha and his older sister, the "siblings fighting over a toy" and "sister irritated by bratty brother" vibe (I am such a sister myself, I feel this dynamic in my bones) was out in full force in 2.3, creating a very strong parallel to the missing sister figure in Aventurine's life.

I just think it is particularly interesting that the hole in Aventurine's heart was created primarily by the loss of his mother and sister--and then 2.3 suggests echoes of those exact roles being filled by other women who have stepped into his female relatives' places.

Given her maneuvering to fill the mother role on purpose, I have to wonder if Jade didn't also have something to do with Aventurine's connection to Topaz (clearly another favorite of Jade's). Did she help to cultivate this friendship and sibling-esque rivalry between them on purpose, with an end goal in mind?

It seems to me that it would be much more difficult for Aventurine to cut ties with the IPC if the Stonehearts were providing him with not only wealth and power but also a simulacrum of the very family he wanted to die to meet again...

Just sayin'.

[oathkeeperoxas]

TOP GUN / Icemav fic recs part 8

There have been a LOT of good icemav fics posted this year - please check out some of the ones below which I've particularly enjoyed!

Rec list 1 here

Rec list 2 here

Rec list 3 here

Rec list 4 here

Rec list 5 here

Rec list 6 here

Rec list 7 here

Easy By Your Side by @wordsonamission

Written for Top Gun Ace Week! Day One - Micro labels (demisexuality) - "Promise me you'll wait for me" Maverick invites Iceman to spend their leave together in a cottage on the coast. Ice accepts, but isn't sure how to handle the fact that he's starting to develop romantic feelings about Maverick. He's never seen any indication that Maverick is interested in him beyond friendship. As they bond over seafood and grocery shopping, Ice finds his feelings growing.

Ice telling Mav about his boundaries, and Mav letting Ice come to him on his own terms is so very sweet and good. I love how the author portrays the care and understanding they have for each other!!

Apoptosis by @flyingfightingfishy

When aviators cause problems, they're designated apop, assigned missions designed to be deadly. Sometimes it's a strike mission, sometimes they're protecting other assets that the navy wants to be sure come home. Mav has been designated apop almost since the beginning. Ice is flying a mission that the navy deems worthy of protection.

Oh my GOD the worldbuilding and character dynamics in this slap so hard, I love the set up and how both Ice and Mav are written. The author places them in this sidestepped world so perfectly it feels like the fic is far longer than it really is. Such a treat!

give me mercy no more by @eighteaseven

They’re both twice as old now as they were when they started this, as both of their joints can certainly attest. But these aches make Ice’s willingness to kneel for him all the more humbling.

🫠 well what can I even say. The author GETS Ice, and writes Ice and Mav being so very in love with each other and giving each other what they need!!! The fact that they're older and experienced and still want each other and want to please each other makes the rest of this fic even better, which really is saying something considering how good it already is.

the further on the edge, the hotter the intensity by StoriesofmyLife

Maverick wonders if it's always going to be like this--this burning want under his skin, the total awareness his body seems to have of Ice. The surge of want that always seems to grip him, even at the most inappropriate of times. He wonders if he's ever going to be able to be around Ice and function like a human being. Thankfully, Ice seems to have the same problem as Maverick. Or--Five times Maverick and Ice have sex in places they totally weren't planning to.

I really enjoy the character dynamics in this, not only between Ice and Mav but the other people who they're interacting with as well. The last few chapters are especially good!

the well traveled road to you by @icemav86

“You said we’re dating?” Maverick asks, eventually, incredulous, with no indication of whether or not he’s willing to help Ice. After Ice’s divorce, he tells a harmless white lie to get his kids off his back. Turns out it’s not that simple.

Saturn has such as way of putting Ice and Mav in situations that I utterly love - the writing is very good, and nails their characterisations perfectly!

magic in your fingertips (love is a wild thing) by @whatiwouldnotgive

Maverick’s never been good at saying. At the talking about things. He always prefers action to words. Carole laughed about it when he offered to fix up her junker of a pick up truck with fondness in her eyes, and Goose never mentions it at all. Just smiles at him whenever Mav brings home his favorite dinner, or lets Mav pick out the movie they watch for the night. Ice is somehow worse.

I love the banter here, between Ice and Mav but also when Goose and Slider make their appearances. The summer romance vibes here are immaculate honestly, the get together is just soooo perfect. Melting the iceman's heart indeed!!

Don’t Read the Last Page (But I Stay) by @rabbit-factory

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell,” Ice drawled, disdain rich in his voice. “The day you become in charge of my promotions I’ll do whatever idiotic tasks you’d like me to do with a smile. But until then.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Maverick leered, and actually managed to startle a laugh out of Ice. It warmed him, with sense of nearly possessive joy, that he was the one who got to tease this man, pull the laughter out of him when he was most frustrated. That was his to do, his responsibility, and no one else’s. *** A look at Ice and Maverick’s relationship, over ten holidays.

So sweet and good!! I love the reunion here, and how Ice and Mav play off each other over the years as their relationship develops and grows <3

face on a lover with a fire in his heart by @enthyrea

Stepping up on his toes, Maverick throws the scarf around the back of Ice’s neck, wrapping it snugly around and making sure the ends are even on both sides of Ice’s chest. Mav’s hands briefly brush over Ice’s jawline, and they’re so warm it makes him dizzy. To make matters worse, Maverick then shucks off his bomber jacket, throwing it over Ice’s shoulders and bringing it close to his chest. The inside of the jacket is toasty, and it smells like Mav. “Are you sure?” Is all Ice can say. Mav smiles up at him, the snow decorating his dark hair like glitter. “Of course. It looks good on you anyways.” He says, with an indecipherable wink. AKA, Ice and Mav get caught in a blizzard on their way to Slider's for Christmas. Ice tries to deal with his feelings for Mav while trying not to freeze to death.

So cute and good and warm - the perfect winter tale. And there's even art!!

feel my body rock (every time you call my name) by @iceman-maverick

Maverick’s got that look on his face now. The one that sets off every alarm in Ice’s mind. But there’s no tower to buzz here, it’s just Ice and Maverick and everything between them. “It does feel better.” Mav smirks at him, “You know, the omega way,” “How could you possibly know that?” Ice snaps. He feels a familiar pressure building between his thighs and absolutely the fuck not. Ice abruptly turns to walk the other way back towards the mess. Fuck it, he’ll take the scenic route before he lets Maverick scent him like this. “Rave reviews,” Maverick laughs - not unkindly though, it’s always warmth coming from Maverick these days -  as Ice tries to escape with what little dignity he has left. Fucking alphas.

Biting and chewing this one!! Ice self exploration with omega Ice! Worldbuilding and omegaverse in the Navy! Mav standing up for Ice, but also Ice standing up for himself!! Plus the flirting at the end, hmm so good

Any Change in Time by @icezansky

After the Enterprise, they came home and took up their posts at Top Gun, this time as instructors, and didn’t speak of it again. They spent their days in the classroom or in the air, and their evenings side by side at the O Club or on one another’s couch. And then Viper introduced Tom to his daughter, Sarah, and she was kind and lovely with a spitfire attitude that reminded him of someone else. She took up his evenings, then – double dates with other officers and their girlfriends, and quiet nights in where she cooked him dinner and they talked for hours. He proposed to her after two months of dating, and she said yes. Now, six months later, she’s going to meet him at the end of the aisle.

The pining in this is so rich and layered, I love the way that Ice and Mav have to learn to circle around each other and decide what they really want in life before they reach out and take it.

Delicates by @topgunreacts

In which Maverick sneaks into Ice's room for some late-night ass, and discovers he doesn't mind getting overheard.

Such a set up!! Ice and Mav in this are just so very into each other, and very much uncaring of who knows it. I love that for them honestly. Yeah boys, get that ass!!

[whoreforjisung]

Pervy Neighbor Jisung Pt.2 ✨

Content/tags/warnings: smut / jisungxfem reader / perv!jisung / reader is a little bit of a perv too / masturbation(m,f) / “noona” / mentions of other members / drug use / panty stealing / cum eating / switch!jisung / switch!reader / mutual pining

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: Since a lot of people seemed to enjoy my first one-shot, I decided to continue the story in multiple parts! Constructive criticism as well as requests are welcome! Next part will include the house-warming party 👀

Not proofread, all characters are only used for the purpose of face-claims and do not reflect real-life actions and behaviors of people involved

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It’s been almost a month since you moved in, and Jisung has, quite frankly, run out of material. As much as he adored that picture he snapped through your window of your delectable ass presenting itself to him, there were only so many scenarios he could logistically work with- his favorite being one of the first he conjured up, with you inviting him over during a yoga session on your balcony. He was especially fond of that one.

In fact, he had already run through them all several times, and as a man with a creative inclination, he needed new imaginary canvases to paint even more indecent imagery with. He really didn’t know how he ended up in this situation. Sure, he was always a man who thought more with the head between his legs than the one atop his shoulders, but he was never one to actively display such depraved behavior- that was, until you invaded his mind. You were akin to a captivating siren luring him out to the vast depths of the sea that was his lust for you, and he wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to resist your entrancing melody.

There were a few minor complications preventing him from reaching his goals, though. The first being how the hell he would successfully obtain fresh aids for his newfound private pastime. In order to give himself more inspiration to work with, he needed to get closer to you. Normally, he would not see this as an issue at all, as he was rather confident in his physical appearance and charisma. The second- and most debilitating issue, however, lies in your surely abhorrent first impression of him. A visceral chill creeps up his spine at the mere thought of what your current opinion of him must be.

After he fucked his frustrations into his fist every night to thoughts of you, he stared at his ceiling making mental diagrams of different approaches he could take for you to nudge him over to your good side. He may have doomed himself from the first day with his thoughtless and downright rude behavior, but he was determined to rectify the misunderstanding he had perpetuated.

Luckily for Jisung, his ever-reliable mate, Felix, had already taken the first steps for him- by adding you on various social media outlets. He had been mindlessly scrolling when you stood out in the crowd of faces in his suggested friends page. It may not seem like much, but the best possible starting point had practically fallen right into his lap. He now had access to your name, interests, dislikes, music taste, and friends list- conveniently right at his fingertips to educate himself with whenever he desired. Not to mention, one mouth-watering, jaw-dropping, boner-popping display of your gorgeously-proportioned body, clad in a slutty little powder blue string bikini- just for him. It was certainly claiming it’s spot at the top the spank bank for later. He’ll have to send Felix something as a token of his appreciation for that one.

Through his frequent investigations of your treasure trove of publicly accessible information, he learned that you are, in fact, one year older than him- that was going to do wonders for his little “noona” kink. His suspicions of you being an artist were correct, much to his delight, as he’s naturally attracted to creative minds. Your taste in music also aligns surprisingly well with his own. You have more tattoos than he originally thought- which he finds incredibly hot. In your bikini pic, he spotted a dazzling silver gem nestled above your belly button- also sexy. It made him wonder if you have more piercings in places hidden under the skimpy garment- he really hoped you did. One crucial piece of information he couldn’t deduce from his research, though, was your relationship status. If you were in a relationship, it couldn’t be a happy one. There was no indication of you having a partner on any of your platforms, so he decided it was unlikely.

Now that he learned as much as he possibly could about you without direct contact, he needed to find a way to repair your skewed perception of him. He could go with his original plan of just knocking on your door, introducing himself, and apologizing, but that seemed a tad bit more risky than he was comfortable with. Since you were apparently acquainted with Felix, maybe he could convince him to act as his wingman? No, he didn’t want to come across as desperate- even if he absolutely was. Maybe Miroh? The two of you were already friends on the game thanks to him assisting you with your S-Class Dungeon victory. He could help you through the slightly more daunting Levanter or Circus stages next. And then what? Just send “hey, by the way, I’m your new neighbor.”? You would wonder how he knew who you were, and instantly be creeped out- rightfully so. He’ll still help you through more dungeons anonymously though. The intense adrenaline rush he gets from it, along with the blood that rushes straight to his junk when you cutely beg him for help- is addictive.

Your bikini pic sufficed to tide Jisung over for another week and a half, shamelessly painting your image on his phone screen white at least once, sometimes twice, or even three times a day. During this time, he strolled the market he had discovered you frequented and gained some helpful intel- you were a bit closer to Felix than he originally thought, even stopping by the various stands he often helped out with to chat or drop off food for him. A few times, Jisung thought about coming up to him while you were there to introduce himself. Ultimately, he decided it would be best for you to naturally stumble upon them hanging out together. So, he cleverly plotted to join his friend with his market volunteering for the next month or so. The first week was a bust, since you seemed to be avoiding Felix with him in the picture now. Regardless, he didn’t let it discourage him, and attentively remained loyal to his plan.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

When you told Felix about how you didn’t host a house-warming party, as you didn’t really know anyone in the area yet, he offered to throw you one to introduce you to his friends. As he got to know you better, he knew you would fit right in with his friend group. When you agreed, he gave you descriptions of his seven closest friends. You were already briefly introduced to Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, but he threw in a few more names you didn’t recognize. Among the unrecognizable names, you tried to pick out the one that could belong to your neighbor, the boy you had spotted curled up on the couch in Minho’s study. Based on his descriptions, it couldn’t have been Jeongin- the youngest of the group, or Jisung- the affectionately-dubbed “babygirl” in Felix’s words. That left you with Chris, his fellow Australian mate, and the eldest. However, his description didn’t match your neighbor either.

When you set out for the market a few days later to deliver Felix some extra sugar cookies you had baked that morning, you saw him again. He was engaged in a conversation with your friend as they appeared to be working one of the fresh fruits and vegetable stalls together. You weren’t close enough to make out what was being discussed between the two, but your attention was drawn to the brunette’s body language. You observed the two friends for a few minutes, as your neighbor cycled through a series of cutesy expressions, excited little jumps, and exaggerated hand movements directed toward Felix. You were dumbfounded by how he candidly resembled a completely different person to the one you had briefly encountered over a month ago. This guy seemed to have an energetic and charismatic personality- an immensely stark contrast to the insolent and crude introduction you were given. You decided to return home with the cookies still in hand, not quite ready to approach yet.

Later that night, you were still hung up on thoughts about your neighbor. You originally thought he really was just an asshole, but the glimpse of him you saw at Minho’s place, as well as the market, had you reconsidering. You wanted to find out more about him. If he did behave differently to you specifically, why was he so callous? You were sure his outburst was the first time you saw him, so it’s not like you did anything to personally upset him. Frustrated, you navigated towards Felix’s social media in the hopes of finding his profile to learn more about him.

To say the man had a lot of followers would be an understatement. He was clearly very popular, and you began to lose hope of finding your neighbor amongst them. You couldn’t spot him in any of the group selfies on Felix’s page either. An imaginary lightbulb illuminated itself in your head as you realized you could just text Felix, asking him to send you all of his friend’s profiles. It wouldn’t be weird, since you’d be meeting them all soon at your house-warming party anyway. While waiting for him to reply, you opened the jar perched on your nightstand, containing a handful of special gummies, popped one in your mouth, and walked to the nearby convenience store to replenish your snack supply.

On your way back home, your phone lit up with the notification of Felix’s reply as you started to feel the effects of the gummy take hold. Immediately after closing your door and kicking your shoes off, you reclined yourself on the sofa, your bag of snacks within arm’s reach, and opened your chat with Felix. Sure enough, he sent you links to seven profiles with each of their names attached. Chris was first, with his feed mostly consisting of himself on late-night walks around town, pictures of his dog, and gym selfies. You immediately noticed how fit he was, with a killer face to match, and began to wonder if all of Felix’s friends were as absurdly attractive as he was. The next profile, Minho’s, caught you off guard to say the least. There were barely any pictures of him, and the ones that were posted usually distorted his face with the most outlandish filters you could imagine. The rest of his feed was overflowing with pictures of his three adorable cats, as well as several unappetizing close-ups of what appeared to be food. You were definitely intrigued, and were looking forward to getting to know him better. The next link directed you to Changbin’s page. While you did briefly meet him in person already, you were too overwhelmed by the utter chaos unfolding in Minho’s apartment to really take in his physique. He was a total gym rat- his feed plastered with pictures showcasing his enormous muscles to prove it. What really surprised you, though, was the sheer amount of dance covers he posted featuring popular k-pop girl group songs. The man knew how to shake it, and you were pleasantly surprised by the way he didn’t lock himself into his masculine side, despite his appearance. Moving on to Hyunjin, you probably spent around an hour admiring the captivating artwork he posted. As an artist yourself, you were enamored by his abstract and romantic style. Equally as captivating, were his features. He was a fashion model, and clearly had the looks for it. You couldn’t spot a single flaw on his perfectly sculpted face.

When you returned to Felix’s links and opened the next one- Jisung’s, you immediately recognized the doe-eyed brunette in the profile picture as your neighbor. Felix had described him to you as the mood-maker of the group, with his hilarious personality and exaggeratedly cute behavior impossible to resist. You had thought Jisung was one of the least likely to be the person in question, so this discovery was very jarring. Even more so, however, was the duality he displayed with his selfies. The most recent upload featuring a cute pose- big, round eyes, puffy cheeks, and pouty lips. As you scrolled down to the next, you were met with a completely different vibe. His head was tilted back, as if he was looking down at you, with sultry siren eyes, his chain necklace dangling from perfect teeth, and the neckline of a loose-fitting white t-shirt exposing his gorgeously-tanned neck and collarbones. You scrolled back and forth between the two pictures, in absolute awe at the fact that they both displayed the same person.

As you continued scrolling, his occupation as a music producer and songwriter was revealed. He uploaded several aesthetic pictures with his own work serving as background music, and you had to admit- he definitely had talent. Each instrumental perfectly encapsulated the vibe of the picture it was paired with, and he definitely knew what he was doing from a production standpoint. The real shock came when you stumbled upon his singing and rapping videos, though. He really could do it all. He perfectly rode every beat with his flow, topping it off with impeccable enunciation. The most impressive (and admittedly attractive) aspect was his ability to effortlessly switch the tone of his voice, going from an insanely high register to a low, raspy one instantaneously. This skill clearly also carried over to his singing- his higher vocals incredibly stable, and his raspy, low tone shamefully had you feeling some type of way. You decided to blame that on the effects of the gummy.

You lingered on Jisung’s profile for longer than you would have liked to admit, especially the pictures displaying his surprisingly flirty and cocky persona. There was one picture in particular, that had your imagination running wild. His eyes were shrouded in black eyeliner, looking straight into the camera, with his lips slightly parted and his tongue protruding toward the corner of his mouth. His thumb nestled just below his bottom lip- complete with black nail polish. It gave off the vibe of him looking up at you from between your thighs, after mercilessly coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with his seemingly skilled tongue, and lazily wiping the remnants of your release off his chin.

To be honest, you’ve been attempting to ignore the persistent throbbing in your core since you first started exploring his feed, but that last picture completely abolished all resolve you were desperately clinging to. Your right hand had been absentmindedly tracing light circles up and down your thigh for the last ten minutes, slowly drawing increasingly closer to your aching heat. Your own hand became Jisung’s in your imagination when you scrolled to a photo of his, wrapped around the neck of an electric guitar. The caption read “Guitar isn’t the only thing my hands are skilled with, ladies… ;)” The little shit knew exactly what he was doing, which, was oddly attractive to you. Your hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts. With your middle finger nestled between your folds, you gasped at the contact.

Your heightened senses due to the gummy amplified the intensity of every touch, the pleasure increasing tenfold. To say you were soaked would be an understatement. The back of your hand was immediately coated with your arousal, as it sandwiched itself between your needy cunt and completely drenched panties. The lewd sounds caused by your wetness, along with the humiliation that washed over you as you realized you were still on the couch in your living room, only served to turn you on even more. As your middle finger breached your entrance, soon followed by your ring finger, you pictured Jisung’s pretty fingers slowly pumping you instead. Black fingernails becoming a clouded shade as your juices coat them, dripping over his silver rings. You wondered if you would be able to feel them as his fingers pushed in and out, or when they bumped up against your swollen clit as he curled his fingers upwards, relentlessly pounding your sweet spot. When you added his tongue into the picture- sloppily lapping anywhere his hand didn’t obstruct, occasionally dragging along your inner thighs and hungrily licking your arousal that had reached there, you let go. You couldn’t control the spasming of your legs, as well as the obscenely load moan that escaped past your lips, as you lost yourself in the most intense orgasm you have felt in ages. After a few minutes of regaining your composure, you washed up and crawled into bed. You were looking forward to getting to know Jisung better.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+* 🐿️

The next week Jisung helped Felix at the market, you finally made your appearance. He had his back turned to the bustling foot traffic, tediously deboning a massive chunk of raw tuna when his ears (and dick) involuntarily perked up at the sound of your sweet voice. “Hey Felix! How’s it going today?” You cheerfully approached, prompting the brunette to wonder how his name would sound as it rolled off your lips. “Hey yourself! Its a little slow today, but should pick up around lunch. This is my friend Jisung I was telling you about!” The blond returned, gesturing towards him. Felix told you about him? He wondered what you had heard, and how it made you feel, but quickly shook his thoughts away before he could get lost in them. This was finally his chance to reintroduce himself, and he was not gonna fuck it up this time. He swiped his hands across the front of his apron as he turned towards you, offering what he hoped was a charming smile.

“I would give you a handshake, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want fish smell on your hands. Sorry we kinda got off on the wrong foot there, it’s great to meet you!” He mustered up his best approach as he shot you an apologetic look, nervously cradling the back of his neck with his right hand.

“Oh, no worries! Felix told me you were really nice, so I figured you were just having a bad day. It’s nice to meet you too!” you replied. It took everything in his power to not grab his friend’s stupidly-lovable face and plant a big, fat kiss on his freckle-covered cheek right then and there. The man was, quite literally, doing all of the hard work for him.

After exchanging your greetings, you moved onto the next stall on your list. Meanwhile, Jisung attempted to burn your approximate waist-to-hip ratio into his memory- for a more realistic point of view of him taking you from behind, of course. His mesmerized focus was abruptly interrupted by his friend landing a friendly smack to his ass, signaling for him to get back to work.

Later that night, he was working on a new song when his phone exploded with notifications from his group chat with his friends. Felix had sent a text notifying everyone about a house-warming party he was hosting for a friend. When his eyes swept across your name, he immediately felt himself tighten in his joggers. He had basically pavloved himself into suffering automatic erections at the slightest thought of you with the recent frequency of his jerking off. To say he was ecstatic would be an understatement as he skimmed through the rest of the messages. He was invited to your place. Of course, his friends would be there too, but actually seeing the inside of your living space, as well as being so physically close to you- would add a whole new level of realism to his sinful fantasies. His usual view of you was from the distance of his own apartment, obstructed by two windows when you weren’t on your balcony. Your appearance at the market today was the closest he’s gotten so far.

Maybe if he played his cards right, he could sneak off into your bathroom, find out what shampoo and body wash you used, and purchase the same. Adding the element of your scent to his late-night sessions could be fun. The more he thought about it, the more depravity overtook him. What if he didn’t stop there? What if he snuck into your bedroom? Found a pair of panties to shove in his pocket and later shove into his face as he climaxes, or found your toys you use to get yourself off when you should be using him.

Still seated in front of his computer, he slightly reclined the chair back as he pulled down his waistband and teased his leaking tip slowly, his mind brewing up his latest creation. He was at your party with his friends. You were distracted by replenishing snacks, Changbin and Seungmin were engaged in a heated debate while the others focused on playing a game on your TV. He took advantage of the distractions and made his move, heading towards your bathroom. He passed the door as he embarked on his real mission- to find your bedroom. After one unsuccessful attempt opening the door to reveal a storage closet, he finally found it.

Once he shut the door behind him, he allowed himself a few seconds to take in his surroundings. When his eyes locked onto the door to your closet slightly ajar, he crossed the room and opened it further. Your laundry basket sat on the floor, powder blue lace thong placed neatly on top. He picked up the garment, intending to relocate it to his pocket, but his hand moved faster than his brain, bringing it up to his face instead. Once he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent, there was no hope for him. He shifted to the edge of your bed, uncrumpling your panties and flattening them out neatly on your mattress. He quickly released his swollen cock, laying it on top of your thong as he used the pad of his thumb to apply light pressure. His hips slowly thrusted, grinding his greedy dick between the dainty lace and his calloused thumb, the contrast of textures driving him crazy. As he increased his pace, he wrapped the lace around his whole circumference and replaced the tip of his thumb with his entire hand, amplifying the pressure. The sight of his tan cock peeking through the blue lace, along with the filthiness of his actions, had him biting his bottom lip for dear life to contain his moans threatening to escape.

He did the same in real life. As his thighs started quivering, he threw his head back against the headrest of his seat. His efforts to bite back his noises failed, however, as he couldn’t contain the loud moan that forced its way through his clenched teeth when his hand grazed over a particularly sensitive spot. Feeling his orgasm approaching, he released his grip completely, twitching at the sudden loss of contact. He wasn’t going to cum yet, not when the highlight of his fantasy had yet to play out. He collected himself for a moment before engrossing himself in his scene again.

He began to panic as his hips started twitching. Soft, needy moans and incoherent mumbling rolling off of his drool-covered lips. He needed to cum, but had nothing to release into. He was so lost in his pleasure that he couldn’t stop as the sound of your door creaking open penetrated through his panting and the wet sounds of his spit and precum-coated cock. He locked eyes with your shocked expression as he blew his hot load all over your panties and bed.

“N-Noona.. I-“ you cut him off with a strong slap to his left cheek. His weak legs not able to support him as his knees buckled collapsed to the floor, the side of his face landing dangerously close to the wet spot he had created on your bed. You stood behind him, forcefully grabbing him by his hair and shoving his face directly into the mess.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you. If you’re going to be a filthy pervert, the least you can do is clean up after yourself.” You spat, further rubbing his face into his own cum. He stuck his tongue out, catching his release on it as your grip on his hair controlled him. When you heard his muffled moans you kneeled down, your face now level with his when you tugged his head upwards. “Are you seriously getting off on this you sick fuck?” You pushed him with his back now flush against the side of your bed. “Oh my god, you’re fucking hard again!” Another slap to his cheek, this time the left. You both looked down as the pain from your slap caused his length to jerk violently, a pathetic bead of precum seeping from the tip and rolling down his shaft. You caught it with your finger, bringing your digit to his mouth and shoving it in. He hungrily sucked it off, a deep moan bellowing from his chest. Withdrawing your hand from his mouth and reaching behind his head, you clutched onto the cum-soaked panties, tilted his head upwards, and shoved them in his mouth.

Jisung groaned as he twitched in his hand, shooting his release all over himself and his keyboard, dripping down between the keys. He had been putting off cleaning the damned thing for weeks, and sighed as he slumped further down in the chair. Thanks to you, he wouldn’t be able to procrastinate any longer.

[bouncybongfairy]

Pretty Please?

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader

Summary: Summer asks you to pet sit her hamster while her family goes on vacation. Of course, you agree because you're such an amazing friend. Definitely not because you and her grandpa would have the entire house for yourselves.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Intox Kink, Worship Kink, Masochism, Dumbification, Nasty Smut

Best Ref Account Ever: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were sitting with your friend group, eating lunch in the quad. Quite boring, the whole school seemed to be yearning for the end of the day. Summer was bragging about the ski trip her family would be leaving for, after school. In all honesty you truly couldn’t care less, happy for her, just not interested. Picking at your salad that had gone soggy as she went on and on. 

“Do you think you could do me like a real solid?” she asks, resting her hand on your shoulder. 

“What is it?” you asked with a sigh. 

“Well, I need someone to come and feed my hamster while I'm gone. I was hoping because you're like, my best friend ever, if you would do that for me?” she asked, trying hard to butter you up. 

“You want me to drive back and forth to your house to mine for 3 days?” you asked, trying to knock some sense into her. 

“Oh my god obviously you can stay in my room,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Ugh isn’t your grandpa going to be there?” you asked. 

“Yeah but he won’t come out of the garage. Please I’m literally begging you,” she pleaded, “What if I leave you an eighth of bud?” she whispered in your ear. 

“Make it a quarter and I’ll do it,” you said, which delighted her beyond belief.

As soon as you got home, you started packing your bags. Starting to slightly regret ever agreeing to pet sitting. Folding your clothes and placing them neatly in your duffle. Suddenly it occurred to you that her grandpa would be home. Of course in front of Summer you put on a front like him being there would gross you out. When in reality every time you slept over at her house, you would find yourself staring at him. Taking in all his little details; like how far he spreads his legs when sitting on the couch. Or how his eyes dilate when he’s a little more than tipsy. Your mind started wondering about all the possibilities of how your visit would go. It wasn’t something you felt shame about. You had already made your way through all the halfway decent guys at your school. To be quite honest you’ve wanted to hookup with an older guy for a while. All the dudes you’d been with are just so inexperienced and you were tired of that. 

Summer and her mom picked you up. She needed to show you around before leaving. Helping you with the bags, the two of you make your way to her bedroom. Where she gave you the weed she promised, even leaving her bong for you to smoke with. Showing you how to work the T.V and of course introducing you to Mr. Man the hamster. You laughed for a good five minutes over the name. Once she headed out with her family, you immediately started rolling up. Dumping the guts out her window, landing in Jerry’s garden, you felt bad but not really. As soon as you took a few hits off the blunt, you noticed it was strong. Giving you an intense head high, it did make you feel more relaxed. For a moment you were certainly feeling out of place. Getting bored, you start shuffling through your bag, looking for pajamas to wear. Immediately your mind went to Rick, thinking about what pare he would like the most. When you first got to the house, it felt wrong to think about him that way. After smoking, you really didn’t give a fuck. Even if Rick told Summer which is highly unlikely because.. Ew. Losing Summer’s friendship in exchange for hooking up with Rick sounded like a fair deal. You only took a couple hits off the blunt, after putting it out, you tuck it behind your ear. Making sure to stuff the lighter in your sock for safe keeping. Grabbing the hamster food, you put a couple scoops into his bowl. 

“You’re such a cute little guy, i’m about to fuck your great-grandpa. Don’t tell mommy,” you baby talked to him through the glass while giggling. 

Wearing a white oversize t-shirt with socks, you make your way down stairs. Hoping to run into him, the first place you checked was the kitchen. Even though you didn’t find him, it was a prime opportunity to raid the fridge. Taking a jar of pickles out and setting them on the counter before opening the freezer. Finding a dark green bottle with a white label with big X’s across it. Bringing it out and setting it on the counter with a crisp -clank- sound as the glass hit the counter. The bottle opened with a loud pop which made you giggle a bit. You brought it to your nose and immediately recoiled at the pungent aroma. 

“Smells like fucking rubbing alochol,” you mutter to yourself, grabbing a cup and pouring some. 

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to alcohol, you’d been drunk plenty of times. Thinking it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, you chug what you had in the cup. You truly felt like the wind was knocked out of you. The coughing and gasping was only making your chest burn more. Taking a few sips of water from the sink to help wash it down. Similar to the weed, the effects of the alcohol were coming on quick and strong. Your cheeks were flushed and you no longer were worried about appearing sober. A gasp of excitement falls from your lips as you remember the existence of the pickles. Your mouth was salivating as you pulled one out of the jar. 

“What are you doing?” a rough voice rang through the kitchen from the doorway. You jump, turning around to face him. 

One of the first things you noticed about him was how tall he was. Seriously, his head nearly hit the fucking ceiling. Eyes had thick, dark circles underneath them; this only added to his grumpy edge-lord vibe. He was wearing a wifebeater tank that was smudged with black soot. Shamelessly staring at the dick print on his pants. 

“I'm pet-sitting for Summer,” you said, unable to hide your giggles. He started walking towards you, till he was literally less than a foot in front of you. This wipes the smile off your face, he reaches out and grabs the bottle that was sitting on the counter behind you. 

“You drank this?” he asked, his breath smelled just like the bottle. 

“Yeah -hiccup- sorry, but is it okay if I have another sip?” you asked while reaching for the bottle. At first, Rick held it out of your reach but then changed his mind. Taking a few swings from the bottle and then handing it to you. His hand just barely touched your chest as he gave you the bottle. Instantaneously making you wet, well.. wetter. 

“If you wanna drink yourself sick that’s your choice,” he said before turning and walking back to the garage. 

Not quite done shooting your shot, you follow him. Due to the room being made entirely of concrete, it was freezing. It was then that you remember how little clothing you had on. 

“Out!” he called out. 

“I’m scared and lonely all by myself in there, pretty please let me stay?” you asked, which made him turn towards you. You could feel the heat build in your belly as he approached. 

“Awe you’re just so scared? I think it’s slightly endearing how you’re trying to play innocent but I know a whore when I see one. No offense but you’re low hanging fruit,” he said, now towering over you with a smirk on his face. 

“Fuck if you don’t wanna fuck me then why are you saying these thing, making me drip down my thigh?” you asked, reaching down to hook your hand onto his belt. He smacks your hand away before responding, 

“I’m a fucking god, I have queens on thousands of planets offering their ass to me on a plater. Why would I stick my dick in you?” he asked. In response you poured out some of the bottle onto the floor, right onto his shoes. At first he looked livid, like he was going to lay into you but you interrupted him,

“Oops sorry I can be so dumb at times, let me clean that for you,” you said, getting onto your knees and bringing your tongue to his shoes. Licking the alcohol off them while looking directly up to him. He chuckled, like he was humored by your actions. 

“Judging by how you’re throwing yourself at me, I bet you were craving my cock for weeks. Every time you’re here I always notice you staring at me, who would’ve known you had such nasty thoughts behind those pretty little eyes,” he said, tilting his head as he watched. Taking the blunt out from behind your ear and placing it between his lips. 

“May I light that for you?” you asked, pressing your cheek to his shoe, trying your best to flash your doe eyes. 

He used his finger to call you up. Scrambling to your feet, you pull the lighter out of your sock. Bringing the flame to his face, admiring his features in the orange glow. He looked so powerful and strong, you wanted him to tear you apart. He blew the smoke directly into your face, you took a playful bite out of the cloud. Grabbing the bottle from you, he pours more onto his shoes. You took his hint and went back down, now licking the bitter liquid off his other shoe. Taking you off guard, he brings his other foot and presses the soul into your neck. At first you were giggling, liking the way he was degrading you. This was until he began adding more pressure onto your airway. Even as you were gasping and wheezing, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring him. The way his jaw went razor sharp while exhaling a cloud of smoke. Watching his facial expression twist from a small smile to full on beam. Your vision was becoming blurry and a familiar burning sensation radiating in your chest. 

Finally removing the pressure from your neck, coughing as you regain your full consciousness and breath. He bent down and pulled you up to your feet. A mixture of inebriation and lack of oxygen to your blood made him need to support your weight partly. He grabbed your shirt and lifted it above your head and threw it to the ground. Still slightly light headed, he grabbed your jaw so he could stare directly into your eyes. Reaching his other hand down, and feeling the wetness between your folds. You shudder and let your mouth fall open, now fully aware. He was shocked by how wet you were. Completely untouched and being treated like an absolute dog and you were still hanging on to his every touch and word. Staring at him, half-lidded and willing to take anything he gave you. This was enough to send him into a feral state. Without saying anything he picked you up and bent you over the desk. He used his foot to push your legs apart. Bringing your arms behind yourself, using your hands to spread yourself open.

“Holy shit you’re such a deranged little cocksleeve, you just eat my abuse up huh,” he said, pulling his pants down and fucking the entire length of his cock into your pussy. You cry out from him practically ripping you in half. Tears sting into your eyes and your legs that are on their tiptoes begin shaking. A mixture of moans and choked sobs spill from your mouth. He lifts your upper body from laying against his desk to being pressed against his chest. Using your throat to secure you there while whispering into your ear,

“What’s wrong slut, I thought you wanted this. You wanna stop? Maybe you can’t handle it,” he practically growled, still keeping himself fully inside you. 

“No. P-please,” you cried out, willing to do anything to get friction between your bodies. 

“Oh? You want me to keep tearing you apart? Beg me to,” he said, tightening his grip on your throat.

“Please, I w-want you to destroy me!” you screamed out, willing to do anything to get him fucking into you. 

Once the words left your mouth, he began pounding into you at an alarming rate. Your wetness was leaking down both of your inner thighs. Letting your body go limp, letting him do whatever he wanted. He kept your back pressed against his chest, admiring your chest bouncing as he killed your pussy. Feeling you stretch and tighten around his dick was driving him crazy. It was more than your physique that was satisfying him. It was the fact that you were so horny from being at his command and control. He liked how easy you were to manipulate, how willing you were to be turned into a braindead, cock hungry zombie. Feeling his orgasm nearing, his thrusts were becoming more erratic and sloppy. Fucking into you so hard that sound was involuntarily being forced out of you with every thrust. As you begin to cum, you start panting, completely blissed out. Feeling your cunt clamp down on his cock as you rode out your orgasm sent him over the edge. Filling you with hot cum, spilling out the sides of your pussy. After the encounter you completely blacked out, passed out. He let you stay slumped over that portion over the desk. Cum still leaking out of your abused hole. Simply pushing your body over to the side slightly after pulling his pants up. Reliting the blunt and ashing onto your ass before continuing working on his latest project.

[bbrissonn]

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

in which you lay alone in your bed at night wondering where your relationship with the young star went wrong

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting 

HUGH DISCLAIMER: this fic doesnt have a clear ending. i literally have no motivation to continue this, but i cannot find it in myself to start my next work for this album until this one is out. so yeah, sorry about that :)

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread  

pairing: jack hughes x reader

wc: 2.6k (including lyrics)

guts masterlist

Cat got my tongue

And I don’t think I get along with anyone

Blood runnin’ cold

I’m on the outside of the greatest inside joke

And I hate all my clothes

Feels like my skin doesn’t fit right over my bones

So I guess I should go

The party’s done, and I’m no fun, I know, I know

I know, I know

Ever since you had moved to New York in early 2022, it felt like it had been living a lie. Like this life you were living wasn’t yours, like you had just stolen it from someone. Growing up, you had always been homeschooled, meaning your social life was slime to none. So, it was safe to say that when you chose to move to New York for a job your mom’s friend had offered you, you were scared. 

You only had two real friends, who you barely ever saw because of their busy scheduled with school before, and even more now since you three were all over the country doing your own things. Luckily for you, there was a girl only 2-3 years older than you at your job, meaning you had someone to talk to if you felt the need. After a month of two, the two of you became friends, growing ever closer when you realized you lived in apartment blocks next to each other. 

Which is how you found yourself at a bar on a saturday night in October of that year. Mailey had convinced you to come with her, claiming the two of you needed to decompress from your busy week at work. You rolled your eyes at first, but agreed none the less. Ever since this summer, you found yourself starting to go out more, joining Mailey and her friends every once in a while. Only this time was so much different than the others. 

There was a big group of maybe 20ish guys, age ranging from young adults to full grown men, taking up most of the place. The two of you were confused, seeing as this bar barely ever had people coming in, and it was mainly the same people coming here every week. So, a group of random guys neither of them had seen around before certainly peeked your interest. 

“What do you think they’re doing here?” You asked as the two of you sat down at your usual spot. The group occupying the opposite side of the room. 

“Don’t know. But they’re not buying that cheap booze.” Mailey mumbled, her eyes focused on the insane amount of liquor at the couple of tables they were occupying. The two of you eventually started forgetting about them, talking about random things that happened throughout the week. 

“Not to freak you out, but there’s a guy that keeps looking at you. A cute guy.” The girl across from you said after about an hour of the two of you being there. You furred your brows slightly at her words, before turning your head in their direction. That’s when you met his eyes for the first time. He had a slight grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, nodding along to whatever the guy next to him was saying. You sent him a small smile, waving slightly, which he answered with a nod. 

“More like hot guy.” You mumbled, looking back over at your best friend. You had had a couple of flings here and there, but nothing ever serious, and you were never used to getting boys’ attention on a night out. 

“He’s going to the bar. Go talk to him.” Mailey announced, making you turn your head to look at him. At the same time, he looked over at your table, sending you a small wink when your eyes met. 

“Rich coming from someone who always says girls don’t chase, they attract.” You teased, making her roll her eyes. You eventually decided to go up to him later that night, talking for a bit before exchanging numbers. Jack, you learned his name was, didn’t seem to want to get into talking about his group of friend too much, so you kept all your questions to yourself. 

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you got to know each other. Your friendship slowly formed and the two of you grew closer each other. But, clearly Jack was still holding back on some stuff. He still refused to open up about his friends and what he does as a living exactly. You told yourself that he’d tell you when he was ready, but you were getting a little impatient, which is why you pretty much forced the answer out of him when you went over to his apartment one day. 

“When are you gonna tell me?” You asked, pausing the show the two of you were watching. Your words made him look over at you, a confused expression on his face as his eyes met yours. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When are you gonna tell me truth, Jack. If that’s even your name.” You sassed, making the boy next to you let out a deep sigh as he threw his head back. 

“D’you wanna see my birth certificate?” He answered coldly, making you scoff. “What I do doesn’t matter, Y/N, so just drop it.” 

“If it doesn’t matter than why won’t you tell me, Jack? You know pretty much everything about me and my life, and barely know anything from yours. God, you won’t even tell me the names of your brothers!” 

“Why do you care so much?” 

“Because I like you, Jack! And… and I though you liked me back, but clearly I was wrong.” You admitted, standing up from your spot on the couch as you started packing up your things. “Just forget it.” You mumbled as you started making your way to the door. You were stopped right as you were about to grab onto the doornob. 

“Y/N, wait!” He said, grabbing your wrist and turning you around before you could leave. “I like you too, Y/N, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you, but I didn’t want what I do in life to influence how you see me. I’ve had way too many people use me and I didn’t want that to happen again because I really like you.” 

“Jack, I made it clear hundreds of that time that I what you do in life wouldn’t change the way I see you, but you kept hiding from me. It makes me feel like you don’t trust me.” You explained with a scoff. The boy in front of you sighed before cupping your face in his head, his forehead leaning against yours. 

“I know, I know, I should’ve told you a long time ago. But what we have, it’s really special to me, and it’s so good. I didn’t want to ruin it.” 

“You’d have to be a serial killer for me to change my mind about how I feel, Jack.” 

“Stay. Please. I’ll tell you everything, I promise, just don’t leave me, please.” He begged, his thumbs rubbing small circles under your eyes. You swallowed harshly before slightly nodding your head yes. Jack then brough the two of you back to his couch, and he stuck to his promise. He started going on and on about his life, starting with the fact that he played hockey for the Devils. Then he moved on to telling you pretty much every single memory he had about the sport, a wide grin plastered on his face. 

In exchange, you opened up to him about some of the insecurities you had because you were homeschooled, including having to attened big parties and being surrounded by large crowds. Jack had promised that was something he would never put your through, but you quickly learned that his promise meant nothing to him. 

I broke a glass, I tripped and fell

I told secrets I shouldn’t tell

I stumbled over all my words

I made it weird, I made it worse

Each time I step outside, it’s social suicide

It’s social suicide, wanna curl up and die

It’s social suicide

It had now been three months since Jack asked you out. You had met his brother Luke when the boy came to visit, talked to his parents through face time a while ago, but you had yet to met his friends. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it did. He didn’t want you attending his games either, claiming he didn’t want people to hate on you because you were his girlfriend. You couldn’t help but overthink the fact that maybe it was just because you were his girlfriend.

You had seen pictures of the other players wives and girlfriends, and you looked nothing like them. They all seemed so outgoing and the life of the party. Not to mention all of the models Jack followed, all of them being the exact opposite of you. You had questioned him about it one night, he just scoffed and said you were being petty and pathetic asking him a question like that. 

“J?” You called out. His arms were wrapped around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. 

“Mm?”

“When am I gonna meet your friends?” You asked quietly, making the boy sigh harshly against the back of your neck. 

“Got to sleep, Y/N.” He mumbled. 

“Could you at least answer me?” 

“I don’t know, okay? Your weird fear of crowds or whatever makes it impossible for you to meet them all at the same time, and I’m not gonna go through the burden of setting up little dates with my teammates just so you can meet them. Can I sleep now, mother?” He answered harshly as his arms left your frame and he turned around, his back to yours. You felt tears prikle in your eyes at his words. 

“I can handle it.” Your voice was low, not trusting your voice not to crack if you talked any louder. Jack let yet another sigh at your words. 

“We’re getting together after the game tomorrow, come if you want.” 

“To your game?” You asked hopeful. You were growing tired of just watching him play through your TV screen, when he was close to your home. 

“No. After.” And just like that, all your hope was crushed. 

“What should I wear?” 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” He grumbled, getting out of bed making your head snap towards him as he approached the door. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Guest room. I need peace and you keep talking.” Was the last thing he said before leaving the room. When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, no text no notes, nothing. He didn’t come back for his pregame nap either, which scared you a little. But all your nerves went away when his face appeared on your Instagram feed, a bright smile on his face as the picture the Devils posted illuminated your screen. 

All of your texts to Jack had gone unanswered, as well as your calls. Thankfully, you knew where the team would be heading after the game, it was a local bar near the rink they went to almost every time after a game. You had gotten there a lot later than everyone, spending thirty minutes in your car deciding whether or not Jack would still want you there. You figured there was only one way to find out so in you went. 

The place was crowded, the music loud as the bartenders prepared multiple drinks. Realistically, there wasn’t that many people here, just the team and a couple other regulars, it was just a really small room. It took you a couple of minutes to spot Jack, who was sitting at a table with a couple of his friends and lots of girls. You tried to look as confident as possible as you made your way over to him. Some of his friends and their partners started at you, wondering what someone like you was doing here. 

“Jack?” You called out as you stood behind him. His arm was resting on the chair of a pretty blond girl next to him. You couldn’t quite describe the look in his eyes when his head turned to face you, but the words he was about to say completely crushed you. 

“Do I know you?” He questioned, and you could feel your heart shatter inside of you. You tried your best to keep a brave face on, but you were dying on the inside. 

“J, come one, this isn’t funny. I’ve been texting and calling all day, you were gone when I woke up this morning.” You mumbled, taking a step closer to him. The girl on his right could read you perfectly, and she realized that you two were a couple. When it clicked in her mind, she sent the boy a judging look before standing from her seat and walking back to her friends. 

Jack got up right after her, gripping your wrist and dragging you outside the bar. “What’re you doing here?” He asked harshly once the two of you stood outside alone. 

“No! What are you doing, Jack?”

“I’m enjoying a night with my buddys!” 

“Yeah, the friends you said I could meet. Tonight!”

“When did I say that?” His words were harsh and rude, making your heart shatter even more. You truly did not understand why he always acted this way towards you lately, but you were growing tired of it. 

“Last night! You said I could come if I wanted to, and I want to be here, so here I am. And here you are, with your arm around another girl!” You said, your tone matching his. You were tired of letting him walk over you all the time. 

“I said that so you would shut up and leave me alone. God, you’re always just complaining about everything and anything. It’s like nothing’s ever enough for you, you always need more–” 

“Oh, nothing’s enough for me? What about you, huh? Am I not enough for you?” 

“There you go, making it about you like always.” 

“Because this is about me, Jack! I am your girlfriend of three months, and I don’t know any of your friends! It’s like you’re ashamed to be with me. Do your friends even know about me?” You asked. There were tears in the back of your eyes threatening to spill, but you blinked them away. You had cried enough over him for the last couple of weeks. The boy in front of you stayed silent at your question, making you scoff. 

“Of course they don’t know, just like your brother’s weren’t suppose to know, or your parents. You don’t want anyone to know that your girlfriend is me.” You spoke with your voice low. This exact though had been in the back of your mind for a long time, but saying it out loud made it feel so much more real. 

“Things were better before you knew–” 

“They were better for you! You lied to me for weeks, and you’re still lying. All you do is lie, Jack. I can’t believe I waisted so much time and energy on you. You never wanted this relationship, did you? You just wanted someone to fuck whenever you needed, someone to be there for you. You didn’t care who it was, you neved cared about me. You’re pathetic, seriously.” You mumbled before pushing past the hockey player and walking to your car. 

You were done with Jack Hughes.

[theeoriginals]

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does. 

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as. 

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah. 

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it. 

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.” 

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,” 

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,” 

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.” 

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,” 

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.” 

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.” 

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace. 

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly. 

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,” 

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.” 

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief. 

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.” 

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos. 

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet. 

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him. 

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday. 

Regrets a lot of things, too. 

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone. 

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second. 

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?” 

────── 

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to. 

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy. 

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it. 

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly. 

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times. 

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow. 

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake. 

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse. 

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins. 

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped. 

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows. 

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity. 

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him. 

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal. 

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too. 

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place. 

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

It’s embarrassing more than anything else. 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case. 

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water. 

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit. 

────── 

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.” 

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it. 

“What about you?” 

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?” 

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again. 

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.” 

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,” 

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?” 

“You,” 

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth. 

“Me? What about me?” 

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–” 

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t. 

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?” 

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat. 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him. 

He rears back like she’s slapped him. 

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really. 

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking. 

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve. 

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–” 

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her. 

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.” 

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,” 

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,” 

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” 

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him. 

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?” 

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” 

“Forever,” 

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.” 

[anxiouseldergod]

hiii I love the premise of your au ✨️

I was wondering about a couple things..

1. is grim part of it?

2. what about ace and Deuce? what do they do? I think it would cute if they were still super close to reader (I'm totally NOT a huge fan of the heartshackle dynamic /s)

I wrote way more on this then I meant to lmao

While I do intend for this to be an x reader series thingy, this is more of a "how you met" scenario, so it doesn't really have any romance.

It's kind of long, so it's all below the cut!

I had planned to include Grim in my post going over my au, actually! I ended up writing it in the middle of the night though and completely forgot to add him there lol

In my au, Grim lives with the reader as their familiar! Maybe it's an overused trope to make him their familiar in au's, but I have this cute image in my head of him trying to help around both the shops.

struggling to reach certain shelves to fill them with books of magical items, napping on the counters next to you while you're working, going out with you while collect herbs...

I adore my dumbass son.

as for adeuce? I feel like they would be regular customers at the magic shop, always stocking up on healing items.

I see them as rookie (but surprisingly successful) adventurers.

They were trained by family members, Ace learned from his older brother and Deuce from his mom (a now retired adventurer).

They ended up joining the same guild, Heartslabyul, which is based in one of the cities nearby.

As the two newest members, they often get paired up together, much to their dismay.

I feel like they heard rumors of the magic shop in the woods and got curious, wanting to know if it was actually real.

So, they set out, going deeper and deeper into the dark woods. Just when they thought maybe it wasn't real, they stumbled across you.

They were certainly surprised to find you living in the woods with just your familiar to keep you company.

Entering your shop, they were immensely disappointed to see a bookstore instead of a magic shop.

You greet them politely, smiling from behind the counter.

"Welcome! Feel free to look around, let me know if you need anything."

While neither of them are at all interested in the books you have, they decide to look around anyway. They came all this way, after all.

The two boys disappear from you line of sight, conversing quietly as they browse the shelves despite their lack of interest. Grim looks up from the can of tuna he was eating, ear twitching as he stares in their direction curiously.

After finishing his snack, Grim wanders away from you, toward where the two had gone. He weaves through the maze of shelves, peeking out from behind one. He watches the boys argue quietly.

"No, I told you it wasn't real! But you just had to come see!"

"What? How is this my fault? You wanted to come too.."

The back and forth continues for a moment as Grim watches from the side. The whole scene is greatly amusing to him and, without realizing, he lets out a small laugh.

Ace and Deuce pause in their useless bickering, turning to stare at the laughing creature. They look thoroughly confused by him, clearly never having seen anything like him. Ace speaks up first.

"Hang on, is that weird cat laughing at us–"

Grim's face immediately changes as the fire coming from his ears burns a little brighter. He stomps his little foot, tail swishing angrily.

"I am NOT a cat!"

The boys jump a bit, deuce accidentally backing into the bookshelf behind him.

"Why can it talk?!" He shouts, before seemingly remembering the sign that told him to keep quiet. He tries again, whisper shouting this time. "Why can it talk?!"

Grim looks even more upset at this. "Why can you talk? Clearly you don't have anything smart to say!"

Ace laughs at this, snorting before covering his mouth in an attempt to hide his amusement. Deuce notices this and elbows him.

Grim turns to Ace, hands on his hips as he speaks to him. "You don't seem much smarter, you know."

Now, Ace is upset. He yells at Grim, not worried about keeping his voice down. "What would some ugly kitten know about me anyway?"

Grim is even more offended now. In his upset, he gets the bright not idea to scare the two with with his fire magic. He breathes a blue flames toward them, successfully scaring them like he had intended.

However, he didn't account for Deuce's reaction.

"I summon thee, cauldron!"

A large cauldron comes crashing down from seemingly nowhere. It hits the bookshelf beside them and sends it crashing to the ground,

Grim manages to mostly avoid the disaster, but ends up getting his tail smashed by a stray book. A rather large one too. He yelps in pain, shooting more fire magic out reflexively.

Ace and Deuce look on in horror as the book shelf falls over completely, Grim's flames catching on the books. The smoke builds up around them, making it hard to see.

Suddenly, the fire is put out all at once.

As the smoke clears, the three of them see you angry face as you survey the damage they caused.

Grim scrambles behind your legs, holding his sore tail and glaring at the adventurers.

Deuce is practically tripping over himself trying to apologize, but is abruptly stopped as you inspect the cauldron on the ground.

"You use magic?"

You can see the color drain from their faces at your question. Their both stammering, coming up with lame excuses or trying to change the subject.

Ace is sure you'll snitch about Deuce's magic, and he'll get busted for keeping it a secret. He's (overly) confident that he can escape the law if he has to, but he's more worried about how his brother will react.

Deuce is sure he'll never go another quest, then he'll never achieve his dream of becoming a legendary adventurer! He can already see his mother's disappointed face when she hears that her only son was locked up due to illegal use of summoning magic. Which is why he's so confused when he hears you laugh.

"What a terrible display! You're not very experienced are you?" You say, a smile growing on you face. You turn to Ace. "I'm assuming you use it too, right? Actually, no need to answer, I can sense your magic energy."

Grim looks up at you incredulously. "Why are ya laughin'? Aren't ya gonna tear into 'em for the mess they made?"

You smile to yourself, closing your eyes as you think for a moment. "Oh, you're all in trouble, Grim. But I think this might actually work in my favor."

You turn back to Ace and Deuce, who stand there in confusion. "You were here looking for The Moon's Alcove, right? Come with me!"

Bewildered, the boys and Grim follow you from the chaos of your destroyed bookshelf. They watch as you unlock the door in the back. You lead them through it, into your magic shop while ignoring their awed expressions.

"Here it is!" You exclaim, arms out as you gesture to your secret shop. "I run the place. Here lately I've had more customers than usual. It's difficult for me to mange the shops and gather materials for potions and other items. Obviously, I can't trust Grim to go alone."

Your familiar makes an offended sound from beside your feet.

"As payment for the damage you've caused here today, I'd like the two of you to gather my materials." You explain.

"Like, a job?" Ace asks, sneering at the thought of extra work.

"Mhm! Should be easy since adventurers like you are always exploring and foraging anyway. I'll even pay you, you'll get extra if you can find me some magical items or artifacts."

Deuce puts his hand to chin, looking around the colorful shop as muses aloud. "I mean, if it keeps us out of trouble..."

You clap your hands together, magic flying from them in little sparkles due to your excitement. "I would never snitch! I'm in no position to anyway. So, do we have a deal?"

The boys look to each other, shrugging as they come to a silent conclusion.

"I guess?"

"Great!" You clap again. "I actually forgot to mention something though, since this is to repay me for the damage to my precious books, I actually won't be paying you the firs two weeks."

"What?!" They exclaim in unison.

Ace crosses his arms. "Repayment of not, what makes you think we'll do this for free? What if we just run off and don't come back, huh?"

Before they can complain further, you take a small pouch from your pocket. Carefully, you pour a small amount of red powder into you hand and then toss it into the air above their heads. It drifts down onto them as you say a few mysterious words with your hands clasped together, they glow slightly.

"There! Now if you try to weasel out of this, your heads will explode!"

The boys look horrified at this statement, backing away from you quickly. Ace takes back his previous words, assuring you he they'll do their job well.

Eventually, a few more terms are worked out between you and them and they leave. It's agreed that they'll spend the next few days searching for the materials you listed and then bring them to you at a specific date.

Not long after they leave does it begin to grow dark out. You sit on your bed, gently applying a mild healing ointment to Grim's sore tail.

After a moment of silence, he speaks. "Are ya really gonna explode their heads if they don't listen?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Of course not, that's way too far."

"Then what was that powder you put on 'em?"

"Paprika."

[ichatake]

Hello! I'd love to see Naruto with a reader that is either a single mama to a 1 yr old girl or a nanny to a 3 yr old and a 1 yr old who are VERY attached to her. Please and thank you!

Naruto with a single mother S/O

Requests are open! (Request rules)

Naruto was loved by many in the village, especially the kids. They saw him as a hero and admired him so much, so you can imagine that he frequently visited the Academy to see the kids. Being in his early twenties, he was still nowhere near having a relationship with anyone (Not even Hinata).

I wouldn’t say the boy was desperate, but he really wanted someone to love! Sure, there were a few kunoichi out there that really liked him, but he didn’t find them genuine—and they were a little too much for him to handle.

Anyways, on one of his visits to the Academy, he got to meet the sweetest children he ever got to know. They were so happy to see him, especially a little girl in particular. Her round cheeks and big smile made his heart warm.

“You’re my hero mister Naruto,” she exclaims, hugging his leg in pure happiness.

He chuckles and kneels down, patting her head—making her hair ruffled and messy. This earned him a giggle from the girl as he looked at her, “Thank you, what’s your name, huh?” he asks with a big grin.

“(D/N)” she answers, her eyes bright as he looks at her face to face. See, this was your daughter. Ever since she was born just a few years ago, she always admired Naruto. You told her stories about him—since the young man has done so much during his twenty five years of life. You couldn’t admit it, but you admired him just as much as your daughter did.

“That’s such a pretty name, you know?” he chuckles as the other kids surround him. He spent all day with them. Even if he didn’t get much free time, he didn’t mind spending it like this.

When it was time to leave, he waited by the door to say goodbye to the kids as they were picked up by their parents. He watched as a young woman finally arrived, holding onto a smaller child. She looked tired, but her face immediately brightens up when she saw her daughter.

The same girl that had been so interested in him ran up to her—to you.

“Mommy!!” the little girl exclaims, running and hugging your leg tightly, “Look mommy, I met Naruto!! My hero!!” she points at Naruto as he tenses up and grins with red cheeks, “Heya,” he waves his hand at you.

“Oh, that’s really nice,” you smile gently, waving back at him, “It’s so nice he spent his day off here,” you say and he shook his head, walking a little closer to you, “Oh, it’s nothing really. Your daughter is a wonderful kid,” He says as your daughter seemed to jump in glee.

“Thank you,” you smile, the smaller child that sat in your arms watched Naruto intently. He was no older than a year, but he still looked like a baby. “I see you have another one,” he chuckles and smiles at your baby boy, “They look just like you,”

“I get that a lot,” you giggle and bow your head, “Well, it’s been a pleasure. I think this day is definitely the best day ever for my daughter. She really is your biggest fan. It was really nice to meet you”

After that interaction, Naruto couldn’t stop thinking of you. After you left, that’s when he noticed how gorgeous you were. Your smile was just beautiful, and the way you treated your kids was so gentle and kind. He kind of wanted to see you again. And so he went back to the academy.

He didn’t really know if you were married—he’d assume so, since you had two kids, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see you. He felt a little guilty, he didn’t want to bud into a relationship. He didn’t want to be a homewrecker! But that was just Naruto overthinking things, since he barely knew you… for now.

Because the more he went to the academy, the more he got to see you. And the more he got to see you, the more he learnt about you. He had already lost count of how many times he frequented the academy just to see you, and you were certainly catching up to what he was doing.

When you brought it up, he tried to avoid it saying that he just really loved teaching kids techniques. You knew this was a lie because the kids were barely pass the age of six. Either way, you enjoyed his company and so did your daughter.

As more time passed, he found out you were a single mother of two. You left a not-so-good relationship and ended up with the task of taking care of two kids all by yourself.

First of all, Naruto admired you. You were so strong to keep yourself up. You must’ve been stressed and heartbroken, and yet you still managed to take care of your kids. He loved that about you.

Something inside him actually switched instantly when hearing the news. If it was obvious he was interested in you then, now it was super obvious. He didn’t try to hide it. All to the point where he ended up asking you out on a date. And to his surprise, it went well. No, it went great. Both of you bonded over similarities. Both told happy and sad stories, You two got to know each other on a deeper level.

It was a matter of time until you were head over heels for him. And he was for you. Your daughter was already asking if Naruto could be her dad, in FRONT of him.

“(D/N) you can’t go around saying Naruto is your dad!” you say with flushed cheeks as your daughter expresses herself. “But I want Naruto to be my daddy!” she whines and holds onto Naruto’s leg.

“I’m so sorry, she—,”

“It’s okay, I mean, I can be your daddy if your mommy lets me,” he says with pink cheeks. Your heart almost stopped at his words and you couldn’t even speak. This made him nervous and he started to apologize in panic.

“Im sorry, I shouldn't’ have said that—I’m so stupid—”

“I certainly don’t mind,” you finally said, a gasp falling out of his mouth. Then, a grin spread across his face as grew happier each second. This was the beginning of a new chapter for you, and a blossoming love story.

[wttcsms]

excerpts;

i have over 100k+ words in unfinished drafts/wips in my google docs. yikes.

in an attempt to gauge general interest + also to motivate myself in attempting to at least finish half of the projects i've started, i'm going to share some of the fics i think y'all will be most interested in 🤍 (and also because these are my usual first rough draft attempts, so these are just the best of the worst LOL)

as always, lmk what you think, what you're most excited for, and i'm always open to chatting about any of my concepts in depth 🤭

featuring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, sae itoshi, tobio kageyama, naoya zenin, satoru gojo, + a plot that's still open for any character so tell me why ur fave deserves it (all with fem reader)

— brace for impact, keiji akaashi elevator pitch: rich college girl with daddy issues is roommates/put under the care of old-time family friend, 20-something y/o keiji akaashi

“I just don’t want you to waste your life away.” He answers, which is the truth. He really hates picking you up when you’re drunk off your ass, unable to defend yourself against the swarms of sleazy college guys that are attending the same party as you. He hates the fact that you’ve been raised — if the dozen father-daughter interactions you had with your dad counts as him “raising” you — to believe that money can solve all your problems. Because, sure, having money has gotten you out of many tight spots, but it wasn’t money that drove to a college on the other side of the city to pick you up, it was him. He has to stand here and watch you push the universe’s boundaries, trying to test your luck, to see if there’s a problem or a bad situation that you can’t get out of this time. You’re reckless and privileged and insecure and rich — the deadliest combination for any college age girl to be. You’re going to ruin your life before it even fully begins. It’s like your default mode is self destruction. 

“Not this speech again.” You sigh, shifting your body so that your knees are turned towards the door instead of him. “Y’know, Akaashi, you’re not my dad.” 

“Yeah, because unlike him, I actually care about you.”

You’re silent now, still staring out the window. He’s usually better at keeping his mouth shut, but it’s hard to do whenever you’re constantly pushing and pushing and testing his patience and he’s just so—

“—sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. It’s a wonder how the words leave his mouth; you think the way he’s clenching his teeth acts as a formidable enough boundary. 

Actually, you think, it’s entirely justifiable. You’re coy, not dumb. You know when you’ve pushed Akaashi too far, and this is one of those times. And, really, you kind of — scratch that — you do deserve it. All of it. And then some. You’re irresponsible, and you drag him out to the other side of the city so he can act as your guardian, your protector, even though that is most certainly not the role he planned on playing. Honestly, you’re just surprised that he hasn’t left you out to rot like everyone else, and you’re thankful, you really are. But what are you supposed to say? That? The truth? Probably. 

You don’t, though. You just mutter some weak ass retort that sounds an awful lot like “you need to get laid” before staring out the window for the rest of the ride. 

— devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you), atsumu miya elevator pitch: yakuza au but a healthy amount of porn and plot. sequel to this.

The first time Osamu Miya meets you, you’re unconscious, and he has a feeling you’d be grateful about this fact considering the state you’re in. 

Atsumu’s carrying you bridal style, and even in your sleep, you still cling to him. The sight would be almost sweet, but Osamu’s not an idiot. There can never be anything sweet in his dear older brother’s life. Even in the pale moonlight, Osamu can see the bruises and hickeys lining your neck, a trail of them that seem to disappear underneath your clothes (he wouldn’t be shocked if there’s a map of hickeys littering your skin). Your hair is sticking up at odd angles, your lips are swollen, and you are knocked out in every sense of the word. 

If the situation wasn’t serious (even without verbal confirmation, he’s well aware of how dire this situation is right now; Atsumu wouldn’t have visited him if it weren’t), Osamu thinks he would have made a comment about his brother’s rough handling. 

(He doesn’t, though, because Osamu knows all about just how rough his brother can get — after all, they both had the same upbringing.) 

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says, and his voice makes him sound like he’s worse for wear. He sounds like when he was fourteen and had his first taste of initiation, when a group of the strongest men would beat him relentlessly for thirty seconds and he wasn’t allowed to fight back. The crack in his voice is subtle, and even though Osamu rarely speaks to his brother anymore, he’s still a master at reading him. 

“Who’s the girl?” Osamu nods to your sleeping form, trying not to focus on the purple and red marks. God, he can’t tell if he, Atsumu, you, or all three of you are lucky it’s so dark. Osamu can’t really believe it’s possible to go out in public after a night with his brother; not without being on the receiving end of a few concerned looks. 

“I need a favor.” Atsumu ignores his question, which is typical behavior for him, so Osamu’s not entirely too surprised or annoyed. “She’s in danger, and it’s—” 

Atsumu grimaces like the next words he’s about to say are going to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. And maybe it’s because that’s his brother and they grew up together, or maybe it’s because ‘Tsumu’s always been a little predictable (or has Osamu just always been good at predicting?), but Osamu can almost mouth what his brother’s about to say.

“—my fault.” 

So, you must be someone awfully important to his brother then. Important enough that Atsumu would finally visit him in person after all these years (with barely any warning beforehand, too). Important enough that Atsumu would treat you so roughly (if the marks on your body are any indication of what you’ve been through) and still care about you so deeply. Important enough that he’s finally taking accountability, finally taking the blame for his actions.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Atsumu’s left him genuinely speechless for a moment. 

“Please, ‘Samu.” Atsumu Miya is not the type of person who breaks down easily. He does not beg, he commands. But right now, Atsumu sounds like he’s this close to getting down on his knees and clasping his hands together if that’s what it’ll take to get Osamu to help him. “You told me you would owe me after what I did for you. Consider this your repayment.” 

Apparently, you’re someone so important to Atsumu, he’s cashing in a favor that’s worth his life just to ensure your safety. Osamu can’t tell if that’s true idiocy or true love — then again, there’s hardly a difference between the two, is there? 

“Idiot. I would have helped ya regardless, y’know.” He means it. Every word. 

“I know.” And Atsumu means it, too. Because even if they’ve went years with little to no contact, even though they both belong to two completely different worlds, they’re still brothers. Which means that they also know each other as well as they know themselves, and Atsumu knows that Osamu can never truly be at peace until he feels like the completely imaginary debt he owes is paid back in full. 

The universe must have a taste for irony, though, because Atsumu thought that ensuring your safety and bringing his brother peace would make him feel good. Instead, transferring you to his brother’s arms allows the weight of the world to rest more comfortably on his shoulders. 

Osamu takes one last look at his older brother, and he’s not entirely surprised to see that his attention is on you, dark eyes staring so intensely at your sleeping figure, he wonders if he’s trying to commit your face to his memory. He’s worried about Atsumu. Sure, he’s got a whole entire gang on his side, a rather powerful one too, but ‘Tsumu’s never been the greatest at being left alone to his devices, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

But then Atsumu looks up at him, and Osamu feels like they’re both fourteen again. Trapped, vulnerable, in immense pain… But not alone, never alone. 

“Thanks, ‘Samu.” 

“Any time, ‘Tsumu.” 

(It’s the same words exchanged by their teenage selves years ago, whenever Osamu would help him clean his cuts and sloppily stitch him up.

To them, it was another way of saying “I love you”.)

— it always leads to you [chapter one], sae itoshi elevator pitch: literally the long ass, long awaited start to this series. if you listened to taylor's new album (ttpd)... yeah, that's basically the new soundtrack for this fic. do what u will with that info <3

A hard pill to swallow is that people never get over their first loves. 

It’s like, scientifically proven, or something. There’s been studies, you think. Not to mention that you belong to the group of people who have never gotten over their first loves. 

You’re aware that it’s probably embarrassing and should be something that brings you shame, but when Sae comes knocking on your door, infrequent, surprise visits that always catch you off-guard, you find yourself opening the door for him. 

(He has a key. He can let himself in any time he wants. You think he must forget.)

This time, he’s not knocking on your door, but he is waiting in the stairwell near the entrance to the floor of your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap on and a dark sweatshirt, and you want to tell him that everyone who lives here is most definitely getting shitfaced at the college bar you just left (the one whose only redeeming qualities are that it’s by campus and the drinks are cheap). He doesn’t have to worry about hiding his identity. 

You frown when he approaches you. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you pout and complain about this halfheartedly, but it’s all for nothing. Sae never tells you when he’s coming; it’s almost like you’re just a spur-of-the-moment decision to him, which doesn’t feel right since the Sae you grew up with was always meticulous and purposeful with his actions. Granted, the Sae you grew up with left on a plane to an entirely different continent four years ago, and the one you have standing next to you now sometimes feels more like a doppelganger than your ex-boyfriend. 

He doesn’t answer, because of course he fucking wouldn’t. He waits for you to fumble with your keys; if you knew he was coming, you wouldn’t have let Akane convince you to take as many shots as you did. Now everything is kind of blurry and hazy, and your hands shake despite the lack of coldness you’re feeling. 

You delude yourself into thinking that there’s something of the old Sae left inside of him as he gently pries the keys from your fumbling fingers and unlocks the door to your apartment himself. 

Entering your apartment feels like traveling in a time machine, only instead of traveling back in time or to the future, Sae is entering a present-day parallel universe. This apartment, with its best (and only) amenity being a short distance from campus, could have been his. Could have been shared by the two of you, even. 

If he had stayed, that is.

Sometimes Sae ponders what his life would be like if he stuck around. If he had never had the ego or the audacity to want to see more of the world. You know better than to ask him why he never visits you when you’re on a holiday break from school, and he thinks it’s because you still know him the best out of anybody, even Rin. The truth is, Sae is too uncomfortable to come crawling back to his childhood home that he grew up in, the one he’s spent years determined to grow out of. He only comes back home when absolutely necessary — out of eldest son/family obligation. 

This college apartment, seeing remnants of a life you’re living that he doesn’t know much about (even though all he has to do is ask, and you would gladly tell), feels wrongly nostalgic. Like, the sweatshirt lying haphazardly on the couch displaying a big, fat Tokyo U logo on its front could have been his instead of your roommate’s. He could have played college ball instead of trying to get recruited directly to the big leagues. Sae’s good enough to get a scholarship. Even received a letter informing him that Tokyo U would be more than glad to have him, full-ride. 

(The letter resides in the back of his closet, crumpled up but never forgotten.) 

And, most importantly, you wouldn’t be looking at him like this. 

Even drunk off of cheap alcohol, you sober up startlingly fast when you see him. You shouldn’t give him so much power over your life, but he’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t relish in the overwhelming relief that you still love him just the same. Nothing ever changes back home, and he says this with disdain, but when it comes to your unshifting affection for him, he figures staying the same can’t be all bad.

“Y’know, it always feels like you’re judging me when you just stand there and look at everything.” An intoxicated you is an honest you. If he wasn’t so determined to mask everything about himself, he would have smiled at your admittance. 

He doesn’t smile, though. He just continues to let his cold eyes roam across the entirety of your cramped, college apartment.

— an indentation in the shape of you, tobio kageyama elevator pitch: idol!reader who goes into hiding after a major scandal despite being the victim x pro!tobio who's been hopelessly pining after you since forever. now you're in hiding, but also living in the apartment right across from his.

SEARCH NEWS: [NAME] [SURNAME] > TOP RESULTS (SORTED FROM MOST TO LEAST RECENT)

WHERE DID [NAME] [SURNAME] GO? *INCLUDES EXCLUSIVE PHOTO OF HER MOST RECENT SIGHTING!*Posted on March 10, 2019

[NAME]’S SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN DOWN, IDOL HAS NOT BEEN SPOTTED IN A WEEK Posted on January 4, 2019   BREAKING: [NAME] [SURNAME] GOES SOLO! LEAVES IDOL GROUP TO START HER OWN CAREER! Posted November 6, 2018

KENTARO TANAKA NOW DATING J-POP IDOL AYAME MATSUMOTO, [NAME]’S FELLOW GIRL GROUP MEMBER!Posted on November 1, 2018

AFTER RECEIVING BACKLASH FROM ANNOUNCEMENT OF HER RELATIONSHIP, [NAME] [SURNAME] ISSUES AN APOLOGY ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS Posted on September 3, 2018

NEW COUPLE ALERT! IDOL [NAME] AND HER RECORD LABEL’S EXECUTIVE, KENTARO TANAKA, SPARK DATING RUMORS Posted on August 16, 2018

When you spend most of your adolescent and young adult years standing in front of a camera, constantly served on a platter for the masses to scrutinize during your most formative years, you get used to being seen. People’s eyes locked in on you isn’t a comfortable feeling, but it’s one you’re very well acquainted with. Watchful, judging gazes cling to you like a second skin. 

It comes with the job is what your personal manager, Fumiko Gima, tells you, right before she tells you to toughen up. You had been fifteen at the time and saw a blogger discussing how you were the least attractive cast member on the children’s ensemble show you starred in. 

All eyes are on you from this point forward. You really going to let them see you cry? Fumiko is not a nice person, but she is incredibly kind, in her own way. She’s the type of person who believes in tough love, all while claiming that she doesn’t even think love exists. 

You think about the disapproving frown on her face when you revealed your relationship with Kentaro Tanaka. 

“You think you’re in love with him?” Sometimes it’s hard to believe that Fumiko is barely seven years older than you. Her youth is evident in her flawless skin and shiny hair (both of which are maintained by very meticulous routines), but the flat expression she wears on her face makes her seem like a woman who found out the hard way that her thirties are not going the way she planned. You’re eighteen when she asks you this question, and you don’t know how a twenty-five year old woman can have such an intimidating aura, but you think that only adds to her beauty. 

“He told me he loves me.” 

“People like him and I don’t believe in love.” Fumiko makes a face; sometimes, she lets her poker face drop in favor of making a face of disgust, annoyance, irritation, or extreme smugness. Right now, she looks disgusted. “Well, I wouldn’t normally place myself in the same group as him, but our industries are pretty much the same. You don’t get to where we’re at because of love, that’s for damn certain.” 

At this point in time, you’re adamant that it’s love because that’s what he says it is, and you’ve never been in love before, but you know that it’s something great. You’re eighteen, and insecure, and he’s in such a powerful position — he could have anyone he wants, and he loves you, so he picks you. Maybe Fumiko is just bitter because no one’s ever chosen her. 

— angel of the morning, atsumu miya elevator pitch: historical, ambiguous war au ft. soldier!atsumu x the civilian sweetheart reader who nurses him back to health

It’s the thunder that wakes you first. 

Lately, you’ve been a light sleeper. Paranoia is a good companion whenever you’re a young, pitifully unmarried lady who lives alone. You keep a chair propped under the knob of the front door, and you no longer open any windows, scared that you’ll forget to lock them at night. 

Normally, it’s the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer, or the creaks that come and interrupt the silence of the night (your parents used to swear that old houses just make those noises) that keeps you up. Sometimes it’s the neighbors next door; they like to get into screaming matches that seem to be so loud, they shake the walls of your home. 

It’s not your neighbors’ arguing that rattles the walls tonight. It’s the thunderstorm that the sweet old man at the farmer’s market warned you about. You be safe out, miss. Take some extra apples. It might be too flooded for you to go out like you normally do. 

You pull your blanket over your head, enveloping yourself in darkness but doing very little to block out the noise outside. The thunder seems to only grow louder, each boom punctuating the lightning that you’re certain is striking through the sky. It’s too loud. 

And rhythmic. 

You listen closer… Three booms in succession. A pause. Three more booms. After a minute of this pattern, the sound only comes more rapidly — louder than before, too. 

The loud booms — it’s not from the storm, then. 

There’s someone knocking at your door. 

You debate hiding under the blanket forever. Maybe this stranger will go away and leave once they realize that no one is going to answer the door. Besides, no one trustworthy is roaming the area at this time of night, right? What possible explanation could there be for someone to be stranded outside at midnight during a major thunderstorm? 

But the knocking persists. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t know when to quit. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so paralyzed with fear. 

“Open up!” A muffled voice still manages to cut through the front door, traveling all the way to your bedroom. It only serves to make you more afraid; what sort of monster is waiting for you outside? The storm rages on, and the knocking won’t stop. 

What happens if this person is in genuine trouble? Would a murderer truly be going through such lengths to kill someone? A thief? 

Well, you rationalize, it’s not as if you have many items worth stealing. Besides, you have no family, no marriage prospects, and a dwindling stash of money with no means to make more. You’re just existing at this point, and you’re surviving on limited time.

So you make your way to the front door, cringing as one section of the floor creaks as you tiptoe through the darkness of your home. You highly doubt the stranger outside can hear you, but you still hold your breath as you peek through the curtains. It’s too dark inside and out for anyone to notice the movement, and all you can make out is a large figure. There’s a knapsack by their feet and hanging off their shoulder is a gun. 

The knocks shouldn’t catch you off guard by now, but one particular hard bang against the door has you jumping in surprise, away from the window. 

This stranger must be a soldier. 

There’s not a lot of fighting to be done down here. The southern towns have mostly been unaffected. Most of the war is being fought up north. All the southern soldiers write back home, telling stories about the cities they visited, careful not to mention the red that runs through the streets and the way the citizens will have to update the population count on the sign outside their City Hall. 

But still, you know what everyone knows — when a soldier, especially one from your side, shows up on your front step, you better let him know that this home is now his. 

You slide the deadbolt with shaky hands, turn the lock on the doorknob, and only hesitate for a few seconds before removing the chair that serves as your last barrier. He’s a soldier, you remind yourself, hoping that you’re not wrong. The least you can do for him is offer him a hot bath for leaving him outside for so long. 

You open the door, revealing a blond-haired soldier weighed down from the weight of his sopping wet uniform, his hair sticking to his forehead because his face is also covered in rainwater, and it’s now that you notice that he’s got one arm wrapped around his abdomen. His hand is pressing down on his side, and you don’t think the dark liquid coating his fingers is water. 

“Finally.” He says. “I’m First Lieutenant Miya, and I fight for the south. I am seeking temporary refuge in your home, and I require only what you can afford to give me. I–“ Before he can finish rattling off what he’s been forced to memorize for times like these, First Lieutenant Miya falls forward, his body crashing into yours. 

It’s been a rough day. 

A rough week. 

A rough month.

A rough life, really, but Atsumu Miya’s long past the days of whining and complaining about things he can’t control. For example, he no longer dwells on his father abandoning his mother right before she gave birth to him and Osamu. There’s still a bitter taste that gets left on his tongue when he mentions dear old pa, which is why, for the most part, he chooses not to discuss him at all. He can’t control the way the north and the south view each other; sure, the mandatory draft isn’t his definition of a fun time, but he honestly didn’t have many plans after school, anyway. He probably would’ve joined the cause, regardless of the law or not. It’s just… A choice is nice to have, y’know? 

Like, if he had it his way, he wouldn’t have gotten caught up in some ambush tonight. If only he weren’t just a lieutenant. If only his captain weren’t such a dumbass.

If he had a group to command, Atsumu’s certain that he wouldn’t lead his men into obvious traps, unlike some captains. But newly promoted Brigadier General Kita isn’t here to force people to listen to what Atsumu has to say. Kita has bigger problems to worry about, bigger troops to organize. 

Atsumu’s morning starts off bright and early with a five mile trek in the woods. The sky is overcast, and anyone with eyes is capable of predicting the storm that’s coming. Atsumu suggests building temporary shelter before the rain makes it too hard to walk; it’s already hard enough to navigate now, but Atsumu’s visited this town before, when he was a little boy. It floods easily, too easily. 

His captain doesn’t listen. Typical.

Around noon, they take a short break to eat. Rations are getting lower. Atsumu suggests that two or three soldiers turn around and head towards town to get supplies. His captain argues that their group is already small enough and sneers that Atsumu must be a northie lover since he’s trying so hard to sabotage this plan. 

The plan is shit, by the way. The captain swears his intel is good, that he’s just oh so certain that a troop of northern soldiers are planning to invade a series of small southern towns. They’re supposedly cutting through the woods to be discreet, and they plan on striking at night.

Atsumu thinks that the captain is just falling into their trap (spoiler: he’s right). There’s no way anyone would bother capturing small towns, just like there’s no way people ever want to listen to someone who’s just a lieutenant. Nobody thinks they have anything to offer, so it’s not worth the time to even pretend to care. These towns aren’t loaded with resources. They aren’t located in any coveted areas. There are only a couple of farms, but even then, they’re not big enough to justify wasting troops to terrorize the townspeople. 

But First Lieutenant Miya follows his orders anyway because what else is he supposed to do? Unfortunately, talking back comes to bite him in the ass because as nighttime starts to settle and the first drops of rain start to fall, his captain gives him a slimy smile before telling him, “Since you have such great ideas, Lieutenant, why don’t you go ahead and turn back into town to get us some of those supplies we needed?”

Well, Atsumu has a few choice words in reply, none of which will get him back into his captain’s good graces (not like he cares to be anyway). Atsumu can argue that it’s dark out, and no one in their right mind is going to be up at night. Atsumu can throw back his captain’s words and remind him that their measly team is already lacking in numbers. He can make the captain look dumb and ask him where the supposed enemy troops are at, since apparently they’re supposed to be capturing the town right about now. He can abandon the men, go back home, and enjoy a homecooked meal from ma. She wouldn’t care enough to scold him for being a dirty deserter; the lecture will come, surely, but she wouldn’t be too harsh with him. Atsumu misses home. He misses his brother, who belongs to a different troop. He misses Shinsuke, his former captain. He misses his mom. 

What he does end up doing, though, is biting back his tongue. He barely nods, clenches his teeth as he reluctantly says yes, sir, and treks off on his own. 

He’s about three miles in when the bullets start flying. 

Isn’t this just a lovely way to finish off the night, he thinks, before sprinting through the trees, weaving between them, trying to ignore how loud and how close the shots sound. He thinks he’ll probably go deaf by the time this damn war is over. A bullet narrowly misses his face, and then he starts to think he’ll probably be dead before then.

He can’t see. If he can’t see, he doubts the enemies can, either. That’s when he gets an idea. His legs are sore, he’s thirsty, and every step he takes is punctuated by a sloshing sound because the area is flooding, just like he predicted it would.

(Sometimes it’s a pain being right all the time.)

The shots are still coming at him in rapid succession, and he believes maybe it’s because they still think they have to shoot at him. If they think they got him, maybe they’ll leave him alone. It didn’t sound like anyone was bothering to chase after him, meaning they’re all probably perched in trees or hiding in bushes, shooting blindly into the night, hoping to land a lucky shot on a target. 

Before he can pretend to be hit, though, some bastard does get a lucky shot on him.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but yell out, the bullet piercing the side of his abdomen. A burning sensation begins to form on the spot where the bullet decided to make its happy home, and Atsumu can’t help but fall to the ground, clutching at the bottom half of his body. 

A minute goes by with no more shooting, and he’s glad he’s in enough pain not to realize that had he thought of his little plan of pretending to be shot sooner, he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

It’d be so easy just to lie down and die. It’d be a slow death, sure. Painful, very much so. But no more fighting. No more captains belittling him. 

But if you die, a tiny voice in his head reminds him, it wouldn’t just be you that dies. It’d kill ma. It would ruin Osamu. Don’t be a selfish bastard. 

He allows himself only one more minute to stay absolutely still. He thinks the adrenaline pumping in his system helps to numb the pain, which is saying a lot, considering the fact that death would be preferable over this excruciating sensation. When he’s certain the coast is clear, he struggles to stand and keep himself steady.

He cannot die like this. 

Atsumu Miya knows better than to get upset at things he can’t control. He can’t control flying bullets aimed at him. He can’t control enemy soldiers; hell, he doesn’t even have soldiers he can control, enemy or ally. He can’t control a lot of shitty things that seem to happen to him, but as long as his heart is still beating, Atsumu Miya controls his own fate. He decides what happens next. 

It’s only a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, he rationalizes. He walks all the time. It’s not such a hard task. The storm continues to rage on, and Atsumu pretends he doesn’t even mind the water. He pretends that he’s not freezing. He pretends that he doesn’t care that his uniform is sticking to his body, making the dirty fabric cling onto him as if to act as a second skin. 

There’s a white flag in his knapsack. During training, they said to use it as a last resort. Die before you wave it, or something like that. 

He knows the intended use for it, but right now, he needs it as a tourniquet. He tightens the flag around his waist, using all his diminishing strength to get it as tight as possible. He can trick himself into thinking it’ll stop the flow of blood leaving his body, but at least it’ll slow it down. It’ll grant him enough time to make it into town and get help. 

He doesn’t choose the first house he sees; he chooses the one he likes the best. It’s nothing all too impressive — certainly not the biggest, but from what he can make out in the dark, it looks quaint. It reminds him of home, almost. There’s a porch with a bench outside and flowers on a window sill. It seems to glow in the darkness of the town, its paint a much brighter shade than the surrounding houses. A nice family must live here then. 

He knocks on the door, and there is no answer. Atsumu Miya did not walk this far with his life literally draining out of him to only make it this far. He knocks and knocks, and because he is too stubborn, even to the very end, he doesn’t quit. Someone must answer the door. It doesn’t cross his mind that perhaps this lovely family he’s envisioning might not even be home. It feels like ages since he first started banging on this door, and he thinks this might be it.

And then the door swings open, revealing a young lady with a certain glow about her. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking, but right now, you look like an absolute angel. His bright beacon of hope. 

“Finally.” He swallows hard, trying to remember what he’s supposed to tell you. The proper words are evading him right now. Honestly, even standing is a struggle now. He thinks he does a good enough job, but then he blinks, and his eyes don’t open back up after that.

— to the victor belong the spoils, naoya zenin elevator pitch: the dark longfic i mentioned abt borderline yandere naoya + how he basically slaughtered your whole entire clan and is going to force you to marry him because you have a cursed technique that will basically grant him invincibility

“Who did this?” You’ve seen Naoya so angry that his words seemed to shake the very interior of the room he was shouting in. You’ve seen Naoya so furious that he had everyone in his vicinity cowering in fear, scared to face his merciless wrath. Never have you seen him so enraged that he can hardly speak, the sentence coming out from between bared teeth; they’re discernible growls more than they are words, but his message doesn’t need to be understood in order to know his intent. 

Naoya Zenin is out for blood. 

“Tell me who did this.” He demands, hand gripping your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up and stare him directly in the eyes. You know why he does this; he can read you like a fucking book. He’ll know if you’re lying before you can even finish whatever fabricated story you’ve spent forever formulating. There’s no point in trying to trick him because it’ll cause him to get angrier, and then what? Then, you’ll have the whole entire room’s blood on your hands. A massacre dedicated just for you. 

You hadn’t cried when he had taken you from your home. You hadn’t cried when you were about to be killed by that curse. You hadn’t shed a single tear despite the unfamiliarity of the Zenin Estate, despite the fact that you were forced into a marriage with a man you did not know, despite the fact that you’ve never been this far from home, suffering silently in feelings of isolation and despair. You hadn’t cried after all of that, yet now you’re sobbing? Now you’re here, struggling to stand on your own, clutching onto the material of his shirt as if he’s your only lifeline, dangerously close to burying your face in his chest and crying your little eyes out. He’s been angry more times than he’s ever felt any other emotion. He’s numb to the feeling of his blood rising, of his vision being tainted with red, of having nothing but sick thoughts and vivid memories of torn flesh and severed limbs surrounding him. This emotion isn’t foreign to him; it’s a part ofhim. And he’s angry, yes, but there’s something else that he feels when he looks down and sees you making yourself smaller, as if trying to use him as your own personal shield.

— balancing act [chapter one], satoru gojo elevator pitch: the first month of your bet will you and gojo inevitably get together <3 the start of this series.

You have what you order down to a T. You first started your tried and true method of restaurant ordering when you were but a wee little intern, too shy to go to town on a rack of ribs in front of your peers and bosses. Once you entered the city’s dating scene (which is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell — it’s just never discussed because that’s truly how vile trying to find a good man in a big city is), you realized that there’s not much difference between lunch dates and client lunches. 

You have the obligatory greeting exchanges (“hi,” “hello,” “how are you,” etc.), the awkward smiles, the mental countdown going off in your head as you wait for the perfect moment to get right into business (“what do you expect to gain from this partnership?” — a line surprisingly used more often in your meetings with potential investors and clients). There’s the pained professionalism, the tight-lipped smiles, the napkin resting in your lap, the battle to maintain constant eye-contact. When you sit across from someone at a table, date or client, you don’t see the person; you see a goal. 

And you’re good at working towards a goal. It’s why you’ve always been the analyst your managers rely on, why you’ve morphed into the senior associate that all your juniors look up to at G&G Capital, and why you automatically figure that if you set your sights on a man only to have him end things, it’s not you who was at fault. It has to be him. You’ve charmed the toughest clients and built fantastic working relationships with the most well-connected M&A lawyers; if you’re this good at professional relationships, why wouldn’t you also be fan-fucking-tastic at a romantic one? 

All the men who have taken you out on dates before wanted to sweep you off your feet. An ex-boyfriend once admitted to you that you appeared so unimpressed at everything, it had become this fun, twisted competition with himself to see what he had to do to get a look of amazement on your face. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re impressed.” Gojo says gleefully, holding open the dirty glass door so you and Utahime can walk in. 

Utahime looks like Gojo just slid open the backdoor to a white van and told her to get in. There’s shock with a hint of disgust evident on her pretty, doll-like features, and you know you’ve got a similar expression, too. 

The floors inside this restaurant — if the dingy, dimly lit shack crammed with small tables and rickety chairs can even be considered a restaurant — are sticky with decades’ worth of mystery liquids that have congealed into the half-inch thick residue that coats the floorboards. You have to purposely think about moving one foot in front of the other in order to walk because actual pressure needs to be applied if you don’t want your heels to become glued to the floor. You’re walking in front of Utahime and Gojo, and you end up choosing a table in the far back; it looks the cleanest. Briefly, you wonder if you’re allowed to be here, then think better of it as Utahime takes the seat next to you, and Gojo takes the one across. You highly doubt there’s a hostess here that’s dictating where the customers sit.

Especially since, upon one glance of the whole place, you realize that it’s empty save for you three. 

“Gojo, if we get killed, I hope they murder you in front of us first,” Utahime hisses. Her family’s so rich (and traditional), she’s never willingly been to a restaurant that doesn’t have a Michelin star. Before college, she’s never even eaten out at a chain restaurant. Being caught in a place like this has Utahime mentally spiraling towards rock bottom. 

“I hope they would, too. I don’t think I have the stomach to watch you meet your grisly end.” Gojo says serenely. Usually, he says things loudly, teasingly, gets all up in your face. When it comes to Utahime, he likes to play at being nonchalant. He’s been doing this to her for over a decade now, and it still grates her. 

Before Utahime can reply, the shaky voice of an older woman is exclaiming, “Oh! Welcome in! Have you gotten a chance to look over the menu?” The voice belongs to a short, plump woman with gray hair, a wrinkly face, but a kind smile that reveals yellowing teeth. She’s got a slight hunch to her back and nails with overgrown cuticles. You try to do a mental calculation of what you could buy this building for, to ensure that this sweet old lady never has to work a day in her life ever again. 

“You know what I want, Mrs. Kimura.” Gojo is giving her one of his signature dazzling smiles. “You can just double the portions today since my friend Utahime here eats enough for a family of five.” 

Mrs. Kimura lets out a throaty laugh. Utahime kicks Gojo in the shin from underneath the table. You’re wondering what Gojo orders from this place, and why does he order here so often to the point of them memorizing his meals? 

“I’m glad you brought friends with you today, Satoru. Meals always taste better when shared with loved ones!” She directs a warm smile in your direction, and you feel bad for returning it with your normal polite one. Tiny and brief. It’s more muscle memory than born from any real emotion. She’s shuffling away to the kitchen before you can try to summon a genuine smile for her, and Utahime’s phone is ringing, filling this near empty space with the tinny, anxiety-inducing sound of an iPhone ringer. 

She doesn’t excuse herself; just looks down at the glowing screen, grabs her phone, and heads outside to take the call.

Which leaves you sitting across from Gojo. Just the two of you. Just the two of you in a dingy restaurant seemingly run by only one old woman. The table looks older than you. The chair you’re sitting on makes a weird squeaky noise with any slight movement of your body. There’s no decor on the walls, no windows either. Nothing to distract you, nothing for you to feign interest in as you wait for Utahime to come back. 

You straighten your posture, try to discreetly look out the front door to gauge how close Utahime is to wrapping up her conversation, and find yourself with no choice but to look in front of you. All you see is Gojo.

He’s tall, you know that. Broad shoulders. Definitely not hideous, you can give him that much. You just feel shocked at how much space he takes up, how it feels like your eyes have to stretch to try to accommodate all of him. 

You don’t know why you feel so awkward, almost like a teenager going on her very first date with a boy she barely knows but still, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to impress. You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever felt this way, and you definitely don’t like this feeling at all. 

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him.

“I like to support small businesses.” He’s not teasing you, but Gojo has this bad habit of always adding a playful inflection to his words. 

“I hope you tip well. You look like their only supporter.” It’s not meant to be an insult to the painfully empty restaurant. You know how much Gojo is worth; when Itadori Googled “Satoru Gojo net worth” and showed the results to everyone, Gojo caught him in the act, looked at the top result, and threw his head back in laughter as he told Itadori to “add an extra zero and triple the number.” You think back to your calculation and assessment of the place. “Might as well buy the business.” 

“You make capitalism so cute.” He has to be teasing you now. You scowl. 

(He means it.)

— i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed, satoru gojo elevator pitch: yandere gojo, royal au, nanny!reader... yeah idk what happened to this fic either, just that it was depraved and i wish i wrote more to share LOL

You’re acutely aware of the noise you’re making, every huff and small, desperate gasp for breath only further betraying your location, but you can’t find it in you to care.

You know, deep inside your pounding, frightened heart, that it doesn’t really matter how fast or how far you run. 

I will always find you.

Just the mere thought of him is enough for you to ignore the ache in your legs and push forward. If you can find the exit, if you can just see the daylight, surely you’d be able to—

You stop in your tracks.

There are two paths: one right, one wrong. Left or right? Freedom or imprisonment? 

There’s no time to waste, but you can’t make a choice. Which decision would be the right one? Surely either route would still be able to lead you to the exit, right? The sharp snap! of a branch being trampled on leaves you even more frightened. Without thinking, you take a left.

— i think you're too divine for my human mind, undecided elevator pitch: rough around the edges but w a heart of gold underground fighter!character x ring girl!reader. i think this was gonna be for bakugo LMAO but i do not have bnha brain rot so maybe a bllk or jjk or hq boy... NO ONE SAY ATSUMU I DON'T WANNA GIVE IT TO ATSUMU

The couch seems to shift with his weight, and you swallow hard, staring straight ahead at the same cement wall you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes because you’re still too much of a fucking wimp to navigate this area by yourself. 

Despite the two of you sitting at opposite ends of the couch, there’s only about one foot of space separating his knee from yours. You suppose that he gets away with the manspreading since he probably has no qualms with punching anyone who voices their offense. After witnessing just how brutal the infamous [ring name nickname] can get, you know that you’re definitely not going to be the one to say shit to him. You can’t even look at him.

Where the fuck is your sister? You have your arms crossed, covering your torso, and you think you must have subconsciously pressed yourself as far back into the couch as you possibly could. Everything about you must scream out “she wants to disappear!!!”, and the worst part of it all would be the fact that it’s the truth. You knew coming down here would be a bad idea, and the sinking feeling of regret is practically solidifying itself into your stomach. You think you could throw up. 

“Hey,” a voice — a deep voice, scratchy and low and so scarily close to you — breaks the silence. “You must be…”

Of course, you’re used to it by now. Always being referred to as “Akemi’s little sister” no matter the situation, the person, the setting. It makes sense, you rationalize. Everyone knows Akemi. And so, by extension, they must know you — her shadow, her little sister. 

“...helped out Sakura.” 

“What?” You don’t know anyone named Sakura, but you finally turn your head to properly look at him as you answer. He’s got on a white shirt now, incredibly form-fitting, and he’s staring right back at you. You're quick to meet his eyes before getting too nervous and focusing on the space just below his eyes. Then, that becomes too close to eye contact for comfort, so you settle for staring at his jaw. It’s a nice jaw. Sharp. He could probably cut you with it if you contradict any of his statements, so maybe you should pretend to know this Sakura girl. 

“You must be the girl that helped out Sakura.” He repeats. He says it slow and almost carefully, like he thinks you must be some sort of idiot who can’t comprehend the most basic of statements. “Gave her your jacket.” He clarifies, and it makes sense. The girl with the hot pink colored hair must have been Sakura. 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

“So why are you here?” 

“Huh?”

“Y’know… Pretty girls like you don’t normally end up here without a reason. So what’s your reason?”

He says it so casually, throwing it out there as easily as a punch. He probably means nothing deep by it, probably doesn’t even realize the fact that it is a compliment. 

He called you pretty.

“My sister.” You answer, finally looking away at him to look down at your hands that have settled nicely into your lap. Your cheeks feel a lot warmer than they did a second ago. You decide to blame this as a result of too many sweaty people in one basement. 

“She a ring girl?” 

“She’s dating a fighter here.”

“And you?”

“What about me?” 

“Are you dating a fighter here, too?” 

You look him properly in his face after that comment, almost resisting the urge to laugh. Fear that he’ll get offended and smack you into the floor stops that reaction. Instead, you stare at him, slightly surprised, lips almost curled up into an amused smile at just how unbelievable it would be for you to date anyone like him. 

“You finally did it.” 

“Did what?” 

“Look at me.” He holds eye contact, almost as if he’s trying to challenge you into looking away. “I don’t bite, y’know.” He smiles, showing off a surprisingly straight row of white teeth, not a single tooth missing despite the nature of his… job. “It’s against the rules.”

Yeah. Because [character], the fucking [ring name nickname], looks like the type of man who follows the rules.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED FOR VESTAL MAGAZINE.

REFLECTING ON YOUR JOURNEY IN THE ACTING INDUSTRY, DO YOU REMEMBER THE MOMENT YOU REALIZED YOU REALIZED YOU WANTED TO PURSUE ACTING?

"The moment I realized I wanted to pursue acting was probably when I was around 12 years old, in high school."

"I was performing in a production of Shakespeare's Macbeth at the Royal Exchange in Manchester."

"I saw older actors and wondered what their "proper" jobs were outside of the theater."

'When I asked one of them, they said': — "No, this is my proper job. This is what I do."

"I didn’t know people could do that."

"From that moment on, I knew that this is what I wanted to do as a career."

YOU'VE DONE MULTIPLE SHOWS AND MOVIES IN THE DRAMATIC GENRE. WOULD YOU EVER BE OPEN TO DOING OTHER GENRES?

"Absolutely, I'd love to explore new genres in the future."

"I'd love to give comedy a go."

"I think that would be a good challenge."

"It’s difficult because timing is crucial delivering a joke at the right time can feel almost mathematical."

"But I think that good comedy actors don't see it that way at all."

"It just comes naturally to them."

"I'd love to give it a shot."

"I'm also interested in doing biopics, bringing real-life stories to life."

"Chet Baker and Gene Kelly, in particular, would be fascinating characters to portray."

"But I'm open to any interesting projects that come my way."

HOW DO YOU CHOOSE THE ROLES YOU TAKE ON? ARE YOU DRAWN TO A PARTICULAR TYPE OF CHARACTER OR STORY?

"Honestly, I'm drawn to anything that makes me feel uncomfortable and pushes me out of my comfort zone."

"I seek out roles where the character feels distant and challenging."

"I like to test myself and see if I can bring such characters to life."

"If a role feels like something I might struggle with, that's exactly what I want to tackle."

"I often joke that these challenging roles might be my downfall someday." [laughs]

CAN YOU SHARE ANY INSIGHTS INTO HOW YOUR CHARACTER, AEGON II TARGARYEN, ENVOLVES IN THE UPCOMING SEASON?

"I found it fascinating to delve deeper into Aegon this season because there's so much more to uncover about him."

"In the first season, we saw quite a two-dimensional view of Aegon—not due to Ty Tennant's portrayal, which I thought was fantastic, bringing a lot of vulnerability and teenage angst to the character."

"When I took over, the time frame was too short to really explore Aegon's complexities."

"This time, I've had an extended period to sit with the character and dig into his deeper layers."

"Playing a character experiencing profound grief is always a challenge."

"I'm lucky enough that I've never gone through anything like that myself, so I had to imagine it as vividly as possible."

"This season, Aegon is shown as more of an empath than a psychopath."

"It becomes clear that he has the capacity to love, feel, and grieve."

"There are so many comparisons between Aegon and Richard II."

"People are saying Aegon is cold, calculated, and evil, and while he's certainly done horrible things—I'm not justifying any of those—it's important to note that, rather than being a straightforward villain, he's a crumbling tragedy."

HOW HAS YOUR APPROACH TO PORTRAYING AEGON II CHANGED FROM THE PREVIOUS SEASON TO THE NEW ONE?

"There’s definitely a continuation of the drama and theatricality from season one."

"It's huge, rousing, and intense."

"I've seen episodes one to four, and they are just unbelievable, especially the battle scenes — you can't get any bigger than that."

"This season, though, there’s also an element of humor."

"At some point, they called Aegon 'the Magnanimous,' and it was important to bring some levity to his character."

"Aegon has just stepped into the role of King and is trying to figure it all out."

"We're at a point where he’s found a spring in his step, enjoying this new responsibility and purpose."

"He’s also got a lot of power now."

"Power can go to people's heads and make them crazy."

"It was nice to explore his boyishness and playfulness, as it gives his character more depth and leaves room for growth."

WHAT WOULD YOU TELL PEOPLE TO GET THEM ON TEAM GREEN?

"I don’t think I need to persuade them—obviously, we’re the best."

"But if you really want to see why, this season is packed with surprises that will make it clear."

SINCE THE SHOW IS BASED ORIGINALLY ON BOOKS, IS THERE A SPECIFIC BOOK YOU'D LIKE TO SEE BROUGHT TO THE SCREEN AND FOR YOU TO BE A PART OF?

"I'd love to see a film adaptation of Douglas Stuart's book Shuggie Bain."

"Another great choice would be The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell."

"It’s a collection of beautiful and heart-wrenching short stories, and each one could make a compelling film."

"Looking at my bookshelf now, I see a lot of books on Bob Dylan, David Bowie, and Paul McCartney—mostly singer-songwriters."

"I also have a lot of poetry. I'd love to see a biopic of Patti Smith."

"That would be incredible."

YOUR CAREER HAS TAKEN YOU TO VARIOUS FILMING LOCATIONS AROUND THE WORLD. IS THERE A SPECIFIC LOCATION YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TO YET AND WOULD LOVE TO BE THE BACKDROP FOR A POTENTIAL FUTURE PROYECT?

"Oh, that's a good question."

"I think somewhere that’s a hybrid between beautiful rolling countryside and the coast."

"A place that offers both stunning landscapes and the sea."

"On your days off, you could go for a swim or hike through the mountains."

"I’d love to work in a scenic and peaceful location like that."

SOMETIMES, ACTORS WHO PLAY 'VILLAINS' CAN GET AN ADVERSE REACTION FROM SOME FANS OF A SHOW. WHAT HAVE YOUR INTERACTIONS BEEN LIKE?

"I've been very lucky."

"Many people have approached me with kind words about my portrayal of Aegon."

"It's a challenging task to humanize someone so seemingly poisonous."

"Fortunately, I haven't had negative encounters with fans who can't differentiate between the character and the actor."

"I think we're in a different phase in society now."

"When Jack Gleeson played Joffrey, there was less social media presence, making it harder for audiences to separate the actor from the character."

"Today I think we are a more technologically advanced community, with more behind-the-scenes and a better understanding of the distinction between actor and character."

"I think people have copped on. I hope that's the case, anyway."

YOU'VE COLLABORATED WITH RENOWNED DIRECTORS LIKE CHRISTOPHER NOLAN. WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED FROM THESE EXPERIENCES?

"Doing Dunkirk was my first significant experience on a film set."

"I really didn't know where to start."

"The canvas was completely blank."

"And it was just such a gift, a pinch me moment that I was able to learn from some of, if not the best filmmaker in the world."

"It was overwhelming."

"And I had to remind myself to be present and soak in everything like a sponge."

"Chris's patience and the support from the rest of the cast were invaluable throughout."

"We were all in it together, especially us young lads who were new to such a big production."

"We learned and grew together during that incredible experience."

IN THE KING, YOU PORTRAYED A HISTORICAL FIGURE. HOW DID YOU APPROACH BRINGING THIS CHARACTER TO LIFE?

"When portraying a fictional character, there's often more freedom because there's no definitive blueprint to follow—even if they're written in a book, they're still fictional."

"You can infuse your own understanding and personality into the role."

"However, there’s added pressure when it comes to a historical figure because you're portraying someone real."

"I never let that pressure overwhelm or hinder the process."

"Instead, I took the character as presented and focused on doing my best with the role."

A NEW HUNGER GAMES MOVIE WAS JUST ANNOUNCED, SPECIFICALLY A PREQUEL FOCUSING ON HAYMITCH'S STORY, AND MANY FANS ARE EAGER TO SEE YOU IN THAT ROLE. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THAT?

"No way, that’s the first I’ve heard of it! But I'm incredibly flattered that people would like to see me on screen again."

"If all goes well, I'll fight for my life in the Hunger Games!" [laugh]

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS DURING YOUR DOWNTIME?

"One show I watch repeatedly, and it never gets old for me, is the UK version of The Office."

"The humor is very relatable and comforting to me."

"I even laugh just thinking about it. It's one of those TV shows when it finishes, you're like: — “Oh no! What do I do with my life? I miss the characters already.” [laugh]

"I also enjoy the US version of The Office."

"Besides that, I'm fascinated by farming documentaries."

"Shows like This Farming Life on BBC are incredibly calming for me."

"And I have to mention The Great Pottery Throwdown — I'm a bit of a pottery nerd, and that show is brilliant!

WHO ARE SOME CREATIVES YOU WOULD LOVE TO WORK WITH IN THE FUTURE?

"The list is long."

"Firstly, there are directors I'd love to collaborate with again, like Chris Nolan and Sam Mendes, with whom I've had some of my best experiences and whom I consider friends."

"I'm eager to work with them again."

"Then there are filmmakers like Andrea Arnold, Yorgos Lanthimos, Greta Gerwig, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Ruben Ostlund, all of whom I admire and would love to collaborate with."

"When it comes to actors, there are many I admire as well."

"I plan to work with individuals who challenge me, from whom I can learn, and who are dedicated to their craft."

"I appreciate those who find joy and humor in their work because life is short, and it’s important to enjoy what you do."

LASTLY, WHERE DO YOU HOPE YOUR CAREER WILL HEAD INTO THE FUTURE?

"It’s more of a feeling than a checklist of achievements that I aim for."

"I understand that feeling because I can almost sense it in advance."

"It’s difficult to articulate—it’s a mix of happiness, creative fulfillment, diversity in roles, consistent challenge, and pushing boundaries."

"I aspire to transform and lose myself in characters."

"Equally important to me is collaborating with inspiring individuals whom I can learn from and grow with."

"I also value the freedom to select projects that resonate with me personally."

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: Smn requested a pt2 of the U-20 team meeting crossdresser!Yn. So here it is!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. In the story the boys will be using he/him when addressing Yn. Requests for this series are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hmmm?" Sendou squinted his eyes as he observed the Blue Lock team.... well, the starters more than anybody else. They were all somewhat interesting, but also boring to some regards, yet he couldn't stop looking at them. Or, better yet, a certain person in the team. The (h/c) haired striker of the team certainly stood out, as he looked way more... softer(?) than the rest of his team. Even his movements weren't like those from the other guys.

"Hey, Sendou. Stop staring into space and listen to what Aiku is saying." Hayate said lazily as Teru and Teppei nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we need to win this game."

"Sae is already being annoying with how 'lukewarm' we are." Cho rolled his eyes as Niou sent the older Itoshi and Shidou death glares.

"Sorry... it's just... that Blue Lock striker over there is very odd." Sendou said as he discreetly pointed at (Y/n), who was busy talking with Hiori and Kurona about something.

"Odd? He is just standing." Niou pointed out.

"Also, you being distracted resulted in him scoring the 2nd goal." Itsuki added in.

Sendou blushed in embarrassment and glared at his teammates.

"Shut it! And he is odd. Even the way he is standing is odd. It's as if I am seeing one of those idol girls."

"You have completely lost it." Teppei said calmly.

"Maybe we should limit your TV and internet access." Teru suggested.

"What are you all talking about now?" Oliver raised an eyebrow as he and Miroku approached them.

"Sendou think that (L/n) guy is a girl." Hayate simply stated.

"I never said he was a girl! I just said he reminds me of those idol girls!" The boy flushed a bright red.

"Oookkay..." Oliver said as he looked over at the said player.

"Regardless, let's just play now. Sae is already being an ass to me."

"Deserved." Miroku and Niou added in.

"Hey!"

As the 3 bickered, Sendou turned to look at the striker again. Sadly, this time, he wasn't as secretive, and Hiori noticed his staring, drawing (Y/n)'s attention to it. The two made brief eye contact, and Sendou swore he could feel his heart doing a flip or two as he stared into the player's eyes.

'Just what is it about you?'

Sendou thought that his encounter with the striker would end when the match ended, but no! They actually met up again at that karaoke bar, and again, Sendou had this weird feeling about the striker.

'He is just too perfect with girls... as if he knows first hand what they want to hear.' Sendou thought as he watched the boy's interaction with the two older girls. Meanwhile, Hayate, Teru, and Miroku were making fun of a pouting Oliver. Sendou watched as the striker's friends pulled him away from the girls.

"Stop being weird, Sendou." Cho warned the redhead.

"What?"

"You are staring at the dude like he killed someone." Teppei noted.

"Please, whatever sort of weird feelings you have for him, sort it out. It's getting stressful to watch." Niou added in as Sendou flushed a deep red as he tried to deny that statement. Itsuki snickered a little.

"You do have a weird fixation." Miroku said, walking over to the group.

"Bachira, please don't make a scene!" (Y/n) yelled as he pulled him away from an argument with Oliver.

"He does remind me of a idol tho... I have to give it to Sendou for noticing it first." Hayate added in.

"Please don't tell me you have been staring too." Niou groaned.

"In my defense, he is cute." Sendou grumbled at the statement Hayate made, and got even more agitated as Miroku and Teru agreed.

"So, a bowling match it is!" Oliver exclaimed, getting the attention of the rest of the team.

"What?" Niou wondered.

"We agreed to a bowling match with you guys." (Y/n) spoke up as she tried to get Bachira off of her arm.

"Losers buy the winners food." The (h/c) haired striker finished.

"Well, in our case Reo is buying the food." Chigiri and Isagi snickered.

"Aiyah... I guess. Bachira, can you let go of my arm now?"

"No." The bicolored boy said, which caused Chigiri and Isagi to grab onto Bachira to pull him off of (Y/n).

"There goes my hoodie." She sighed as the U-20 team watched in amusement... well, except for Oliver.

"And you! Blue Lock's number 12!"

"Ha?" The four looked at him in confusion, as the U-20 team sighed in defeat.

"Here we go." Cho and Teru said quietly.

"When the bowling game ends... how about you be a good brother to me and tell me your tricks on how you swooned those two girls soe easily." Oliver grinned, putting a  arm around (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"What?" The girl asked, dumbfounded by the statement.

"Why is he touching (Y/n)?"

"I don't know... doesn't he have a disease or something?"

"His breath probably smells, too." Isagi, Chigiri, and Bachira commented among themselves, trying to hold themselves back from ripping Oliver away from their striker.

"Eh... I don't know." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Oliver pulled her out of the room.

"Hey!" The three Blue Lock players protested.

"Hold it right there! Where are you going with (Y/n)?!" Otoya's voice was heard from down the hallway.

"That's not how you hold a bowling ball, Hayate-san." (Y/n) noted as she watched the white-haired boy struggle holding the ball.

"What?" The taller raised an eyebrow.

"You need to grab tightly onto it with all 3 fingers... that's way too loose." (Y/n) showed the shaky hand that was holding the ball. Although she didn't play or like this sport much, she knew some rules.

"You might injure your hand like that." She said simply finished as Hayate observed her hand for a moment and then repeated the same hold.

"Thanks."

"Welcome, let's have a fair game then." (Y/n) said as Hayate was about to say something, but the girl got pulled away by Nagi. The U-20 player watched with some new found interest the striker.

'Odd... but Sendou was right... there is something about the number 12 that isn't like the rest...' The white haired boy thought.

"You think that something is weird about him too, don't you?" Sendou suddenly spoke up from behind Hayate, who slowly nodded his head.

"There really is."

"Hey, you two! Focus! I need those tips from (Y/n)." Oliver warned the duo, who looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"I made (Y/n) promise to give me tips about girls, if we win." Oliver simply stated.

"You... are getting dating tips from your junior?" Cho asked in disbelief.

"This is gold. I wish I had my camera with me." Miroku chuckled as Niou held in a laughter. Teppei tried to calm everyone down, but he did find this whole ordeal funny.

"Shut it!" Oliver yelled with an embarrassed blush as Teru and Itsuki patted their captain's back, silently laughing as well.

[randomfoggytiger]

CHRIS CARTER'S MISCOMMUNICATION: "Platonic", "Cerebral and Sexy", and the Romantic Dynamic of The X-Files

(Credit to: Melissa Walker)

**Disclaimer**: This writeup won't focus on character flaws, only on delving a little bit deeper to understand a perspective.

In this post, I explore Chris Carter's "cerebral" use of the word "platonic", and parcel out his MSR opinions during the first six seasons of The X-Files.

PART I: WILL-THEY-WON'T-THEY OR PLATONIC?

In August 1993, Chris Carter conducted his first promotional interview of The X-Files. Amongst other inspirations for the show, he drew namely from The Avengers's John Steed and Emma Peel as the cornerstones of the "Fox and Dana" partnership. “David and Gillian are very bright,” Carter said. “They truly are the characters. Their relationship is cerebral and subtly sexy. Fox and Dana remind me of John Steed and Emma Peel in ‘The Avengers.’”

To a generation who grew up watching one of the (then) most widely known will-they-won't-they in television, that comparison signaled allure, attraction, and simmering sexual tension. As @observeroftheuniverse's post here highlights, The Avengers often blatantly played with the romantic pull between Mr. Steed and Mrs. Peel. This article particularly articulates how freely the writers and actors discussed the indisputable fact of "something" going on between them: Peel’s verbal interactions with Steed range from witty banter to thinly disguised innuendo. Regarding the constant question of whether they had a sexual relationship at any time, Patrick Macnee [Steed's actor] thought the characters went to bed on a very regular basis (just not in view of the camera). However, Rigg [Peel's actress] thought they were most likely engaging in an enjoyable extended flirtation that ultimately went nowhere. Writer/producer Brian Clemens said he wrote them with the idea that they had an affair before Emma’s first appearance in the series,[6] and they certainly appear to already know each other very well when Emma is first introduced. And my own post here draws descriptions and quotes straight from each characters' Wikipedia page (and notes the similarities between Scully and Peel.)

However, after years of mixed responses, one clever reporter was able to get a clearer answer out of Carter in 1997:

RS: I’ve always wondered if you watched a show called “The Avengers.”

CC: Sure. Loved it. Mulder and Scully come from those characters, Emma Peel and what’s-his-name — Patrick MacNee. He was older than she was, so it was a sort of May-September, whatever you call it, relationship. It lacked sexual tension because of that quality. But I loved that sort of platonic thing.

And now you must be wondering: how? How did he not notice Steed and Peel's dynamic while remaining a big fan of the show, especially when he described their dynamic as "cerebral and sexy"?

Chris Carter, I posit, uses "platonic" when he means to say "sexual tension without decisive follow-through."

A bold claim. I'll prove it, too.

PART II: PLATONIC DOESN'T MEAN WHAT WE THINK IT MEANS

For the longest time, I assumed this double speak of Carter's was a form of outright lying. Don't get me wrong, he has and will lie when ego becomes involved, or when he wants to bait the "mystery" longer but can't think up a cleverer sleight of hand in the moment. But the truth, from the 1990s to the 2020s, is much simpler: he is telling the truth when he refers to Mulder and Scully as platonic.

Because "platonic", to Chris Carter, means "intellectually driven, sexually interested, non-sexually equal" all rolled into one. And, since he can't find a word that means "sexual without involving sex", he settles for one that strays from making a definitive either way.

In his interviews from 1993 to 1997 (which I explore in Part IV, see below~), he insisted that Mulder and Scully were friends, yet also stipulated they wouldn't end up together "on-screen"; and when comparing them to other sexually-charged partnerships, he repeatedly underscored his preferences for relationships that weren't "overtly sexual."

The nail in the coffin was a 1995 interview for Season 3--

AD: When you first explained Scully and Mulder to FOX, was it a point of sale that this was going to be purely working relationship, no love interest.

CC: I wanted it to be that way from the get-go, although I did want there to be sort of an underlying tension between the two of them because my feeling is when you put two smart people, a man and a woman, in a room, I don’t care whether or not they’re passionate about their life and their work, you’re going to get sexual tension out of that naturally.

AD: Yeah, the sort of Harry-met-Sally-with-brains-scenario.

--and its follow-up in January 1996--

Interviewer: How important is the sexual tension between the characters?

CC: I never wanted them to jump in the sack together because it was uninteresting to me. To me, the most sexual relationships are often the ones that are never realized, consummated or even spoken about. So I wanted this to be two smart people who work together, who happen to get along very well. Through their shared passion in their work, there is a natural chemical sexual tension that comes out of that, that doesn’t ever have to be spoken about, but it works.

Well then, why the double-speak and general lack of clarity?

Chris Carter often claimed he quite literally trusted no one, a self-protective measure that sprung from two alcoholic parents. One was sometimes-abusive, the other "ditzy" and detrimentally loose-lipped; and together, they always held rank, never backing down or apologizing for their wrongs. Humor and obfuscation, then, became his primary tool-- one minute he'd proclaim, “We can’t prove that it [abductions or paranormal activity] happened, but we can’t prove it didn’t”, and the next he'd seriously aver, "I’m a natural skeptic...."

The key to the truth lies in the repeatability of his claims: his oft-voiced skepticism in the paranormal far outweighed his infrequent, one-off jokes.

PART III: WHAT CC MEANS WHEN HE SAYS "PLATONIC"

The most telling piece of information-- the dirt on top of the coffin, if you will-- was a surprisingly open interview promoting Millennium.

Chris Carter's sincerest answer to the question of the "platonic" dichotomy was also his most vulnerable; and, upon realizing this blunder, he swiftly abandoned reflection and escaped through the realms of exaggeration-- a sign that his clarity was mixed with a little too much vulnerability.

February 20, 1997:

Interviewer: In both shows, I noticed, the male-female relationship is central and idealized. In “The X-Files,” it’s platonic. In “Millennium,” there’s a sort of idealized marriage between Frank Black and his wife.

CC: My feeling is that the most powerful relationships you have in life are … not sexual. You haven’t seen Lance Henriksen and Megan Gallagher in a sexual situation on Millennium. Between them, love is understood. Love is gesture and feeling and trust, and all those things, and it’s not necessarily a physical thing.

Interviewer: And the relationship between Scully and Mulder?

CC: It’s also like my kind of idealized romantic relationship. It’s two smart people in a room, arguing something when each one has a valid point of view. It’s like good dinner-party conversation. It’s what makes me feel alive — and good about myself. And I think there’s too little of it in most of our lives and particularly in romantic situations.

Here, the interviewer turned his questions from philosophy to possibility, leading Carter to quickly disengage and strike up hyperbole:

Interviewer: You were talking a second ago about gesture, and how Gallagher and Henriksen don’t really hug and kiss. What would happen if Scully and Mulder were to hug and kiss?

CC: They have hugged. They’ve never kissed. They could kiss if it was the right time for it. They could never give big French kisses. People say, “Will Mulder and Scully ever go to bed?” And I say, “You really don’t want them to.” Because the minute they do, then, basically, when they’re in that motel on their assignment, you know, investigating the appearance of extraterrestrial life somewhere, and they decide they’re finally going to get it on, they’re going to lie there sort of googly eyed in the morning, and those aliens are just going to be running amok. They will become more interested in themselves than in the things that they need to be doing.

He wasn't entirely wrong, either: their partnership and relationship would require-- in 1997, at least-- a lot of communication to get anywhere close to romantically stable. Fight the Future's "But you saved me" hadn't been uttered canonically; and neither character had the downtime of Season 6 yet to sort through and shift their priorities. As easy as it would be to slough off his exaggeration as another example of how little he understood the characters, Chris Carter's statement-- in truth-- pointed to how well he knew their dynamic.

Still, there remained a grain of truth to Chris's drama. He viewed (views) Mulder and Scully as two characters whose sexual attraction served to aid their quest, not detract from it; and feared that anything overtly sexual or "changed" between them would inevitably distract them from saving the world.

A challenging dynamic to understand until I realized it was one he shared it with his wife, Dori.

February 13, 1996:

But the demands of his work wear on his private life. “This is the first time Chris has seen me vertical in a few weeks,” said his wife, Dori, an elegant former screenwriter who flew up from Los Angeles to squeeze in a little private time with her husband.

August 2, 1998:

I work until at least 9.30 and I always work weekends. My wife’s staying in Santa Barbara is nothing to do with any kind of marital break-up. We’ve been together 16 years. It’s more that she’d rather be there and not see me than here and not see me. We speak all the time and its actually very romantic: I’d suggest it to anybody as a way of creating connection and desire.

She would like it if I were home more often, but she knows that I tend to feel a little obsessive and understands that I would probably be miserable if I had to live my life any differently right now. I’m not a workaholic, but when something hits and it’s good, you have to obey its demands.

For Chris Carter, obsessive focus-- as confirmed and reiterated by everyone in his life during The X-Files's run-- was lived without distraction.

During another 1997 interview, he doubled down (humorously, then solemnly) on the pathos of Mulder and Scully's situation.

1997:

Question from Dublin, OH (Sunil Karve): Hi Chris. On that terrible day when the series comes to an end, are you planning on having Mulder and Scully finally get to the “truth” (and more importantly, be able to prove it?)

Carter: They’ll be too busy jumping each others’ bones.

Question from Los Angeles, CA (meredith): Recently you likened M & S’s relationship to the one in the movie “Remains of the Day”. For those of us who didn’t see that movie, what did you mean? Thanks.

Carter: I just meant, I thought it was more powerful that those two characters didn’t get together....

Question from North Syracuse, NY (Ellis): Will a romantic relationship develop between Mulder and Scully?

Carter: No romance.

PEOPLE: Ah the QUESTION…Why not?

Carter: More alien stuff is coming soon.

And yet, he took care to hint (blatantly at times) that Mulder and Scully would end up together after the nebulous, victorious conclusion. Not only as a possibility-- an inevitability.

PART IV: DESCRIBING MSR THROUGH CARTER'S EYES

Carter's descriptions of Mulder and Scully's partnership through the years didn't change... in substance, at least. His answers shifted depending on his devilish mood; but the underpinnings remained the same, all pointing to a similar, looming conclusion.

To illustrate this point, I've included as many statements as possible, barring repetition, dating from 1993 to 1997.

WRITING AND CASTING THE PILOT

"The Truth About Season One", post The Truth:

"It was very easy to cut Ethan out because he just slowed down the scenes where you would see Mulder and Scully together, which is where all the heat really was."

September 23, 1994:

I loved both David and Gillian from the start. And, yes, I chose them from hundreds of other actors who auditioned. The chemistry between them is just pure luck.

February 20, 1997:

[On casting Gillian Anderson] "You knew the chemistry was there with Dave and Gillian. That’s something you pray for, because you can’t manufacture it."

June 14, 1998:

“At the original auditions, I saw dozens of people but the moment David and Gillian walked in the room, I knew I’d found my Mulder and Scully. It was as if the skins I’d created fit these two people like gloves.”

SEASON 1

August 18, 1993:

“David and Gillian are very bright,” Carter said. “They truly are the characters. Their relationship is cerebral and subtly sexy. Fox and Dana remind me of John Steed and Emma Peel in ‘The Avengers.’”

November 30, 1993:

The relationship between Mulder and Scully is particularly promising. So far, it’s a low-voltage attraction. If it gets stronger, it won’t be because that’s the standard TV formula.

“It’s a relationship I’m not seeing on television,” says Carter. “It’s based on mutual respect, not something overtly sexual.”

SEASON 2

September 23, 1994:

LANGER: Chris, You brought back Tooms. Are there any plans to bring back the Eves or that guy who starts fires?

CARTER: Again, anything can happen. Except that Mulder and Scully sex scene.

MOONFERRET: Chris, We all know that the Mulder / Scully thing isn’t going to happen. I’m curious though– why exactly are you so opposed to this? You and the rest of the crew are great storytellers- I’m sure you could pull it off exceptionally. Why so opposed? (Do you get the feeling I’m one of the few that would love for it to happen? Call me vicarious…)

CARTER: Oh, Moonferret. If I could only make your dreams come true.

October 28, 1994:

“I had decided sometime after learning that she was pregnant (last winter) to shoot around Gillian’s pregnancy,” Carter said....

Carter considered making Scully a single mother, but he resisted domesticating the show. “I have chosen not to make the show about the characters’ lives,” he said. “The show works best as two FBI agents investigating paranormal or unexplained phenomena, and that’s what drives the show. If the stories don’t drive the show, then we’re working backward.”

December 1994:

Another source of praise for the show has been the unique relationship shared by the two main characters. Though there is chemistry between Anderson and Duchovny, the writers and actors take pains to maintain a tender but nonsexual relationship.

...As far as the sexual tension between the two goes, everyone involved in the series seems to agree that a full-blown romance is out of the question.

December 1994:

How close will Scully and Mulder get to the final truth in the current season of X-Files? Carter’s answer is as nebulous as any of last season’s answers. ‘I don’t think there is a final truth,” he says with a laugh. “There are problem final truths. We’ll just keep pushing."

SEASON 3

1995:

AD: When you first explained Scully and Mulder to FOX, was it a point of sale that this was going to be purely working relationship, no love interest.

CC: I wanted it to be that way from the get-go, although I did want there to be sort of an underlying tension between the two of them because my feeling is when you put two smart people, a man and a woman, in a room, I don’t care whether or not they’re passionate about their life and their work, you’re going to get sexual tension out of that naturally.

AD: Yeah, the sort of Harry-met-Sally-with-brains-scenario.

1995:

Q. Did you always have in mind a two-person cast, male and female?

A. The Mulder-Scully idea was there from the start. And I wanted to flip the gender types, so that Mulder, the male, would be the believer, the intuitive one, and Scully the skeptic, which is the more traditional male role. It was also important that Scully be Mulder’s equal in rank, intelligence, and ability–because in real life the FBI is a boy’s club–and I didn’t want her to take a back seat.

October 1995:

**Note**: Carter teases a lot during this interview, but his last answer is serious enough.

Melissa: The chemistry between Mulder and Scully is great. Will their relationship ever develop into more than just being partners and friends?

Chris Carter: They’ll find out they’re actually third cousins, four times removed.

Naber: With Mulder getting a girl [a topical Season 3 rumor], will we be seeing Scully having more of a personal life or a date?

Chris Carter: Scully will join a nunnery when she learns that Mulder has strayed.

Mary Paster: Rumors about a girlfriend for Agent Mulder have a lot of fans worried that this will ruin the “sexual tension” between him and Agent Scully — can you tell us anything about it to calm our fears?

Chris Carter: ...About Mulder’s girlfriend… don’t worry, I won’t let anything “ruin” Mulder and Scully.

December 24, 1995:

Q: As you know, there has been a lot of speculation that Scully is Samantha. [Agent Mulder’s sister, Samantha, was abducted by aliens when she was a child and never seen again, causing Mulder to become obsessed with UFO’s. If she were alive, she would be the same age as his partner, Dana Scully.]

A: [Chuckles] People with too much time on their hands.

Q: Can you tell fans that is definitely not the case?

A: That is not the case.

Q: There’s also speculation that Scully is a lesbian and that’s why there have been only fleeting mentions of past romance for her. Is Scully gay?

A: That is not the case either. I hate to answer anything definitely. But Scully is heterosexual.

January 1996:

Interviewer: How close to your original vision is what we get?

CC: I have to say that it’s extremely close to what I imagined. Of course, when I was sitting and writing the pilot, I never imagined episode 73, which is where we’ll be this year. Anyone who creates a show, I don’t think, can look that far down the road. But I did, indeed, have an idea about how the Mulder and Scully relationship would progress. 

Interviewer: How important is the sexual tension between the characters?

CC: I never wanted them to jump in the sack together because it was uninteresting to me. To me, the most sexual relationships are often the ones that are never realized, consummated or even spoken about. So I wanted this to be two smart people who work together, who happen to get along very well. Through their shared passion in their work, there is a natural chemical sexual tension that comes out of that, that doesn’t ever have to be spoken about, but it works.

May 13, 1996:

Since the very first episode, the slow-burn chemistry between Mulder and Scully has had fans in a delicious torment, debating the pros and cons of a romantic/sexual relationship, analyzing the details of each gesture, each word spoken by the characters.

On this subject Chris Carter is adamant. In numerous interviews, he has stated that there will be a relationship between the two main characters “when hell freezes over,” as he recently said in USA Today.

May 16, 1996:

Interviewer: Do chat types want romance between Mulder and Scully?

CC: They do and they don’t. They want elements of it without them jumping into the sack. There are these “relationshippers” who kind of dominate the online chats. I’m a little dismayed because I don’t want to do a show about fuzzy warm Mulder and Scully. Never.

SEASON 4 - SEASON 5

1997:

Question from Dublin, OH (Sunil Karve): Hi Chris. On that terrible day when the series comes to an end, are you planning on having Mulder and Scully finally get to the “truth” (and more importantly, be able to prove it?)

Carter: They’ll be too busy jumping each others’ bones.

Question from North Syracuse, NY (Ellis): Will a romantic relationship develop between Mulder and Scully?

Carter: No romance.

PEOPLE: Ah the QUESTION…Why not?

Carter: More alien stuff is coming soon.

February 20, 1997:

Interviewer: If the show is ever in trouble, don’t you think Fox would push you to have a romance?

CC: Oh, sure.

Interviewer: And how strong do you think you’ll be when that call comes?

CC: As I say, I may not be here by then, so I don’t know. But I would resist it, as I think the characters would. Or the actors that play them. That’s what The X-Files movies are going to be for.

FIGHT THE FUTURE

March 14, 1998:

[John Shiban] "Chris Carter has said that Mulder and Scully, in a way, are having a romance. Even though it’s not a sexual romance, this is a relationship and it is complicated. And sometimes they are at odds, sometimes they don’t agree, sometimes they are concerned for each other, they are worried that one is going to endanger themselves, etc. Sometimes those things aren’t resolved and we like to leave it lie(?) because it makes them more real to us and more interesting people if they have that kind of long-term up and down that you go through in a relationship like this."

May 1998:

TVG: There has also been a lot of buzz in the press about a scene in which Mulder and Scully kiss. You’ve often said you wouldn’t play that card, that they will never really take their professional relationship to an intimate, romantic level.

CC: Nor should they. I’m not saying it would never happen, but I think the characters, if they’re being true to themselves, would be careful about finding themselves in that entanglement.

June 1998:

Y’know, like do Mulder and Scully kiss?

“I think it would ruin the show,” Carter says, then adds, “I think it would wreck the X-Files if they had a relationship.”

Anderson chuckles: “What? Before we spot an alien, what are we going to do? Smooch?”

Reports Duchovny: “There is way too much history to be developed for them to have a carnal meeting.”

Besides, says Duchovny, smirking, “America wouldn’t stand for it.”

SEASON 6

October 1998:

[Talking about FTF's almost-kiss]:

“I think it’s a natural expression of the love these two people obviously have for one another. And that was an expression of that love, it’s not necessarily a perfectly…” Carter drifts off for a moment, stumbling for the right words to describe his thoughts on the matter. “It’s not a sexual expression. That they almost kiss isn’t stepping over a line that I think that neither of them are quite prepared to step over. But it’s a quite believable one,” Carter insists. “That it doesn’t happen, that’s part of the fun.”

Although Carter says Mulder and Scully’s relationship will be dealt with in Season Six, he does stick firm to one of his former proclamations: “I don’t see Mulder and Scully getting in the sack.”

December 1998:

“They are VERY complex characters. We played with Mulder and Scully’s belief systems in the fifth season. They’re both unmarried. They’ve both lost parents, and they’ve both lost them in a tragic way. Mulder and Scully have a lot to learn about life, I think, and they’re things that people have to learn as they move through their 30s and on into their 40s,” CC observes. “So, I really do think we’ve got a lot more to learn about our characters and about the conspiracy. I don’t think we’ll run out of ideas anytime soon.”

CONCLUSION

I started this exercise as a way to understand Chris Carter's thinking. Seeing the early days of his vision-- poking around in the limitations of his verbiage, finding that a deeper relationship was always in the cards (even if kept back from the table)-- was informative and intriguing.

(What really interested me-- which I couldn't include here-- was the revelation that Gillian Anderson was of the same mind concerning Mulder and Scully's partnership. It was actually David Duchovny who later became curious to explore a more personal relationship between the two. Which explains The Unnatural, I'd bet.)

And that's where we leave off on this platonic miscommunication.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[strobbylemonade]

canto 7 pt 3 spoilers and thoughts and stuff

i really didn't expect her to be like.. locked up. by herself. its so sad. i feel so bad for her in the lighthouse. also the I WANT YOU poster cracked me up.

vergilius calling her "my lady" was cute. i thought we were going to get more of their friendship this canto but apparently not. maybe later :( but also what's up with his eyes?? who's his old friend??? WHO did he take the eyes from?? it's not don quixote because he still has his eyes, so it's either the bloodfiend moses spoke with, or it's the progenitor?? or there's more first-gen blood fiends we don't know about.

adding more guesses to the dante's identity flame:

dante is bari/the bookhunter

dante is vergilius' "old friend"

dante is the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is verigilius' old friend who IS the bloodfiend vergilius got his eyes from

dante is dante and their old self is destroyed

dante is an extremely powerful unknown character who gets their memories back but after their canto they pull a don quixote and chooses to live the rest of their lives as the dante we know

sanchos expressions were really really awesome. she's just so... augh....

THESE GUYS REALLY PISSED ME OFF.

i'm not smart enough to understand the implications of this. but ??? sinclair standing up for donqui?? yaaaayy!!!! the sign??? and also him paralleling bari is definitely not a coincidence. i wonder what the mark of cain has to do with it all.

i didn't notice while i was playing but sinclair starts blushing when he asks her to open up. they're so cute. and they're trying their hardest to be vulnerable to their fucked up lil family. i love them.

WE GOT OUTIS LORE!!! LET'S GO!!! this was surprisingly vulnerable of her... and dante's response of "I will. As long as they have the will to change, to move forward, I will be there for them." was great. also girl what do you mean TENS OF THOUSANDS??? i'm starting to think outis has a lot more guilt for the smoke war than she lets on.

uhh and speaking of change that's another theme that's popping up more interestingly enough. yi sang, sinclair, and being "unable to change" is what caused heathcliff to distort. interesting narrative theme. (starts side eyeing dante and outis). also change being one of the biggest themes of library of ruina, with roland and angela needing to break the cycle of the City to achieve their good ending.

bari is cool as shit

the cutscene that follows this where they're all talking about how much fun they had with donqui through the stageplay was genuinely both so cheesy and sweet i almost cried.

oughhh i'm not bothered to grab screenshots from every part i enjoyed of the final point so we're doing dot points again!

sancho's backstory of being born alone and wishing to die before don quixote gave her love and life was... holy shit. "That is why you saved my life from the periphery of death... tried to share your love... and made my heart beat again."

again with the themes of suicide. the original don quixote sees sancho as special because she doesn't want to inflict suffering on others and instead simply wishes to "burn myself to ashes like I was never here". and that's how she gets her first family. because she suffered alone. and then don quixote makes his children suffer alone in la manchaland.

"I don't know who I am" lyric in Hero hits really song. YEAH I FORGOT TO MENTION MILI PEAK!!! it really feels like some of their older music, especially something from mahoyaku (the Big Moon in the background during the final phase certainly helped). the second part sounds especially like Cast Me a Spell. or something from miracle milk with the way the instrumentals and sfx sound. i really like it.

DON QUIXOTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAA

"She was incandescent, like a brilliant star twinkling in the night sky. / That very brilliance compelled me to reach out and hope." OUGHHH. dante's role in this chapter has been really interesting... they're like her, they're chained to their past but are also playing the role of someone who they don't know who they're meant to be. they have a really passive role in bringing sancho back to the Gang, with the other sinners stepping in to help her moreso than dante themselves, and then at the end, it's sancho who saves them, acts as their star, and gives them their dreams back (of having all the sinners together as one big happy family).

and just. holy shit. this entire sequence.

I DID NOT EXPECT A QUICKTIME EVENT!! big cast a spell vibes... i genuinely gasped when the fireworks went off..

LMAO SHE'S MAKING FUN OF HIM FOR THE ROCINANTE THING. also kyaa hong lu's teaching dante how to smile!!! i'm sure this won't have any terrifying implications next canto!!! definitely!! there's some interesting parallels to what donqui said about dante having an "expression" and what demian said about being able to hear them all the way back in canto iii, because donqui/demian listen to their "heart" and not their actual face/voice. interesting

also new dante sprite please???? please??? new dante pose perhaps even??? please????

interesting we're getting the clock ticking closer to doomsday after canto 7 and not 8. with the trajectory they're on, doomsday will happen during or after outis' canto (and before faust's). fun. can't wait for the random lore drop next intervallo/event where they take turns feeding don quixote their blood. please. please. please???

mili peak. pass on peak. feelings peak. augh. i love my idiot family and their pet Cosmic Horror Entity. although i would argue it's a family of 15 and not 12!!! i love found family!!!!