#i'm obsessed with this man

[repressedqueen]

The way he said this 😂😂😂

[syneilesis]

[fic] Coffee Break

Coffee Break

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link

You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.

A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.

The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.

It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)

The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.

“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.

“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”

“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”

Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.

“Good morning!” you chirp.

He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”

“For you.”

He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.

“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.

“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”

“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”

“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”

It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.

And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”

You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”

Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”

“And making you good coffee!”

“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”

“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”

Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.

When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.

He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.

“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”

A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.

“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”

“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”

“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.

“Oh! I've read that before.”

“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”

“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”

“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”

Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.

It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.

“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.

He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.

It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.

From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—

Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.

Oh dear, this won't do.

You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.

[hoongjong]

seonghwa @ 231129 mnet japan 2023 mama awards

[itsnikak0]

Thinking about him

[pedgito]

Pedro Pascal’s SNL First Impression Doesn’t Go as Expected

[ishimarus-nmberone-fan]

I drew him as a baby lamb, and now Im drawing him as a FROG!!!

[poetry-protest-pornography]

His thighs are too powerful, I guess

(I did not say "I can show you" which was my first very loud and very not normal thought 😂)

[macbethsymphony]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SCROLLED TO THE END?!!!!! THERE'S A HOT SWORDSMITH WITH ANGER ISSUES AND THE HYPERFOCUS OF A GOD AND Y'ALL DIDN'T WRITE MORE FOR HIM????? I fell for this idiot the moment I saw the silly windchimes on his hat, it should be illegal how little there is out here for this man

[heartz4vee]

Reminiscing

❝𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴, "𝘒𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘚𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘰𝘥"❞

Word Count: 1,316

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Winter King was an odd, odd man. But to his subjects and everyone else in the Land of Ooo, he was very eccentric. Positive. He liked to obscure things with a cover of goodness. He made everything better. He made everyone better. But, how true was that, really? He knew it wasn’t, and he couldn’t pretend it was. He knew who he was, he knew what he'd done within the course of his life, and he’d come to terms with that. He was trying to, at least.

Winter sat on the floor of the ice cold room and watched his ice Marceline strum on her bass guitar, smiling as she did so. He liked watching her try and come up with songs and melodies. He just enjoyed watching her in general. It made him think back to simpler times, when he first found her during the war. He was so different back then. What made him think he was responsible enough to look after a child? Especially in his growing state of madness? And when she got sick? It turned out to be so much worse than he initially thought it was. After that… Drastic loss and failure, looking at her now made him a bit sad. But at the same time, having her here, in a bit of an unethical way, it relieved him of that sadness, at least for a while.

He did wonder though; what would she be like now if he hadn’t failed her? Would she be happy? Would she even like playing music? Would he even still know her? Would he have remembered her… At all?

Eventually, the little girl stopped playing and she looked at him, her beady but frosty eyes looking at him with innocent curiosity,

“What did you think, Simon? I’m getting better, right?” Marceline was excited when she asked for his opinion on her growing skills. She was always excited when she was around him. It was something that put him at ease. She put him at ease. How could she not? She was one of the last bonds he really ever had. One of them anyway.

Winter just laughed and happily clapped his hands,

“It was beautiful, Marcy! You really are getting better..”

—

Sitting at his piano, he slowly pressed down on one of the keys, repeatedly. He wasn’t looking to play anything, not today. He was just looking to clear his head. Winter wasn’t one to dwell on the past, he preferred to look at the present, and what was to come. But he had his days where his thoughts consisted of nothing but memories from the past. They were always so clear, too. They weren’t vague or foggy, he remembered them all like they happened yesterday. It was something he looked at as more of a con than a pro.

He thought about himself a lot. Not in his usual egocentric way, but more about the way he was. How he used to be, how he is now. When he was still just ‘Simon Petrikov’, he was never a shy man, not at all. He was always a bit of an extrovert, not nearly as self absorbed as he is now, but his social skills were always lacking. He always enjoyed reading, and studying rare artifacts and philosophical ideals, all things he never got around to doing anymore now. He never really had time. It made him think too much about the past.

And what was he like now? An egocentric, morally corrupt ice wizard. He kissed away any opportunity at friendship, or anyone who seemed to want to get a bit too close to him. He did this as a personal choice, fearing the result of them disliking him when they actually get to know him, and fearing what he’d do when that happened. Saying he was afraid of what he himself was capable of was an understatement. He was horrified.

Maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he always had been, as much as he tried to hide it. It made him wonder how someone like Betty ever took an interest in him.

Betty?

He hadn’t actually thought about her in a long, long time. Was it a conscious effort? He wasn’t sure.

Winter remembered her perfectly. She was brilliant, very goal-oriented. She was somewhat like him, just a bit less cautious about things. She was… Eccentric. He remembered looking at her and always thinking about how much he wanted to be like her. Maybe that’s why he acted the way he did now. The two shared similar qualities, but she was always much nicer than he could ever be.

He had always been fairly apathetic when it came to most people and things around him, but not with Betty. He always had such a deep care for her, and it was a mutual feeling between the two of them. The two had never dated. It wasn’t something either of them were interested in at the time, and neither of them was what the other was looking for at the time, gender wise anyway. But nevertheless, they had a very strong bond, they were drawn to each other. Maybe their friendship bordered on obsession, that was something he could realize now. At the time though, it wasn’t the conclusion either of them came to.

Maybe they just didn’t know that friendships weren’t supposed to harbor that level of obsession. Maybe they were both just two lonely people with so-so social skills trying to navigate their interpersonal relationships on their own. They were happy with what they had at the time. In those moments. She was really the only person who was ever able to become that close with him. She was the only person he’d ever cared about on such a deep level. He missed the feelings he had with her. The feelings of excitement, and the joy he got from being around another person. The late night conversations they had that would lead to nowhere, but they didn’t care, they were just having fun. It was feelings he longed for. Feelings he ached for. Feelings he despised.

Then she died.

He didn’t remember how.

He didn’t remember when.

Whether it was something he could have prevented or not, was something he’d never really know. Perhaps his brain just repressed that part of all of this. He was fine with that, but at the same time, he was itching to know. The only thing he knew was that she was dead.

Winter was… Lucid. He was there, he knew that for sure. It wasn’t something most could say about a lot of Simons. But, while he was no longer fully affected by the crown’s madness, it still left some lingering insanity within him. Most days his memories of the past were fogged and out of place, others they were as clear as day, it felt like he was reliving those moments. It was weird. He found that on some days he felt like him, he felt like Simon, and as odd as it felt, he enjoyed it. But other days, he felt like he was still under the full effects of the crown. When he stood up to do something, and suddenly felt like he blacked out for a second, and found himself doing something else instead. When his mind was storming with nothing but anger, despair, and fear. Never knowing what was going on around him.

It was a repulsive experience.

Now, all he could do was sit. Sit in his wonderland of ice, snow, and his own delusions. No longer having his best friend who was long gone and dismissing any thought or mention of her. No longer having the adorable, helpless little girl he failed to raise. He just had himself and his thoughts in the walls he built up around himself.

He hated reminiscing more than anything.

[carnage-cathedral]

posting Ben content while the dash is quiet

[calronhunt]

New guy dropped <3

[dilfzilla]

Google, Show me this guys balls please?

[startaroux]

Evrart Claire voice: "Misteh Doo Bwahhhh"

[letsbegayletsdocrimes]

be your boyfriend? be your girlfriend? babey imma be your ken ryan gosling, there's 0 points of intelligence in my eyes but im so supportive and im up for any neón-colours-tennis-bikini-party-at-the-beach-full-pink-tea-gatherings-horrible-crimes-and-fashion-shows weird shit and i also don't know what sex is

[wigglingtapeworm]

this book I found at the thrift store that was full of prompts

"Yes, when I was 6 or 7 years old granma Laurie and I lived in apartments in Westlake. a bluejay (I think?) hurt it's wing and I found him. we got a bird cage and I nursed him back to health. (about 1 month) when he was ready to fly I wanted to keep him but my mom said no. we took him out on the grass and let him go. he flew a little, but the ground, and I got got him. poor birdy"

[onyondump]

Here is my current draft :

Just a Touch : Too Fucking Close (ArthurxKarsa)

Just a Touch : Can We Try? (ArthurxKarsa)

Release : Arthur x WifeReader smut

Blank : Angst Arthur x Reader, Platonic Tommy x Reader

Brainrot :

Just a Touch : Break my Bones (ArthurxKarsa)

Prequal of Infatuated : Arthur meets his charmer

Lizzie x Academia Reader (sllight TommyxReader)

Snippits for ArthurxReader : Cold Puddles, Sweet as Apricot, Teach me hw to Ride

Arthur x Boxer reader (fluff)

Arthur x Femalerival (hatefuck)