#it genuinely concerns me how much i like this movie

[mykuup]

Λ𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘝𝘔 (toward pleasure) PART II

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My Masterlist | PART I

Summary : After your night at the palace, you return to your life and to your husband. But if rumors and whispers are tough to cease, it's even impossible to stop an emperor.

wc : 4.1k

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // angst // fluff // mention of cheating // mention of violence // threat with a dagger // possesive!Geta // soft!Geta // married!reader // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : You asked, I delivered 😎 Ty ty ty ty for your appreciation for Ad Libitum pt I !! I never thought you would love it that bad! I really hope this part II will satisfy your appetite. Sorry I took my time but I'm also working on another story for our beloved emperor.

Please, interact with this I would love to see your reaction to this ending! (Also it makes me happy to see that you enjoyed my work 💜)

Sorry if you spot any mistake

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai @helsa3942 @preparedfruit @analves @silentwhisper666 @deliciousfestsalad @saphirmoraitie @justnobodynothingmore @claudialioncourtdulac @phobobobophobia @koshkahhhh @noblenighttime @moon-390

Dalia was the first to work this morning. She had already prepared pressed fruit juice and arranged bread and cheese plates with a watered-down wine carafe. As she walked in the long corridors to bring it to Caracalla’s quarters, she noticed a half-naked woman heading out of Geta’s bedroom. Dalia saw how her hair was tangled and how she was handing her dress to hide her modesty, walking hurriedly towards the empress’s quarters. It wasn’t hard to understand the whole situation. A wide, evil smile enlightened her as she returned to the kitchen. She had to tell everyone that Geta spent the night with a concubine.

You exhale in relief as you enter the empress’s quarters. The walk of shame from Geta’s bedroom to this little chamber where you had changed earlier, happened without crossing anyone. Well, you thought you heard something but it was just your foggy mind playing tricks as no one was around. You tried to stay silent as much as possible as you were changing to your original dress. Images of Geta’s chocolate eyes were on your mind on repeat and guilt flooded your entire being.

How did you end up in this whole situation? You were happy, living a peaceful life with your husband. Speaking of, how could you explain this to him? Well, do you really want him to know? You weren’t a liar, he knew you had spent your childhood in this palace and that your parents were still working there. And even though you spoke to him about how you used to play with the young emperors when you were a child, he knew you weren’t friends with them. You never were. Your mind was racing so you didn’t notice the soft ruffles of Julia’s nightgown and you were startled when she cleared her throat. You turn to look at her and she instantly notices the turmoil inside you. She stepped closer and hugged you.

‘Rome will always be grateful for what you’ve done,’ she said softly as she pulled off. ‘I’ll be sure to send you a gift to thank you.’

You shake your head. ‘I don’t need any gift or reward Your Highness,’ your voice was firm. ‘I just want to go back to my life as if nothing ever happened here.’

Julia’s heart shattered. She really liked you and she genuinely thought you would be the perfect partner for her son. But she couldn’t say that. She respected your choice, and the fact that you already endangered your marriage for her made her keep her thoughts to herself.

As you walked away, she couldn’t fight asking you a question.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ You turned back to look at her, arching a brow. ‘Was he gentle with you?’ You could see in her eyes she was genuinely concerned to know if her son hurt you in any way possible.

But what Geta did to you tonight was totally opposite from hurting you. Memories of the tenderness he showed you invade your mind again and you smile.

‘He was the best lover I ever had,’ you simply answered before you left. You didn’t want to lie to her, and even though it was hard for you to admit it, this simple statement was the pure truth. Never the few men you had known worshipped you the way Geta did. Even your husband, who was caring and in love with you, never showed you how you truly deserved to be loved…

When you finally reach your little cottage, you spend your entire day thinking about what you did and how your life is now going to be different.

The sun rising casted soft lights through the heavy curtains seams, softly warming Geta’s face. Half awake, he shifted under the blankets and reached out for you. But all he could feel under his fingers was the coldness of the empty linen sheets. He rose abruptly, looking for you in his quarters. But you were nowhere to be found. He hastily put on his robes and stormed out of his bedroom, reaching directly to his mom’s. He crossed paths with several servants on his way and almost missed their whispers and giggles. Something was happening but he couldn’t mind less as his panic started to rise.

‘It was you right?!’ he asked without any form or greeting. His mom's eyes went wide as she wasn’t expecting to see her son this early. In front of her silence, Geta spoke again. ‘You did this, didn’t you? And now she’s gone!’ Different feelings were colliding in Geta’s heart and mind. 

Panic, fear, rage, and desperation.

The empress saw the distress in her son’s eyes and tried to reach for him. But Geta stepped back. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Wh—what have you done?!’ His voice trembling, betraying him. Julia tried to reach for her son again, hugging him as he let her approach this time. His fists and jaw were clenched tight as his mind was clouded.

‘I’m sorry,’ Julia whispered, trying to soothe her son. ‘Don’t be mad at her. I was the one asking—’ Geta pulled out from his mom’s embrace, eyes wide.

‘What. Have. You. Done.’ his tone was as cold as ice as rage flooded his entire being. Julia stepped back and stumbled over her chair and then the little table as Geta was slowly walking toward her, a menacing look in his eyes.

But Julia knew otherwise. She was the empress of Rome and even though her sons were now ruling, she understood the importance of the citizens’ opinion. She stood in front of her son, her feet firmly on the ground. ‘I asked her to make you a man so you can satisfy your future wife and rule this city as you are destined to,’ her voice calm but firm.

‘You… you were ashamed of me…’ Geta realized, disgust and disappointment in his voice. Julia’s heart falls on her stomach at the statement.

‘I’ll never be ashamed of you. You’re my son, my beloved son,’ she added as she cupped his face. ‘But those rumors were deteriorating faith citizens had in you so—’ Geta cuts her off.

‘So what? You’ll make a public announcement saying I shared my bed with a woman?!’ The young emperor was annoyed that this was his mother’s plan. Of course, he knew about the rumors, it was the first thing he talked about to you last night. But a part of him wanted to believe you were there because you actually cared about him. He even hoped you would love him. But it was foolish of him to even think of it. 

‘In a few days, you will meet the Princess of Galatia (modern Turkey).’ Geta froze in place. ‘Her father and yours were old friends. We agreed this would be the best option as she’s still young and you needed to be experimented for her.’

Geta's eyes went wide, his pupils fully blown out, and no brown was left. Veins could be seen on his forehead and neck as his jaw clenched tight, his teeth almost shattering at the strength. His pale complexion was long gone, deep red now adorning his face. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye as rage consumed him.

‘Where is she?’ He managed to speak, his fingers bruising his mother’s skin as he held her by the shoulders. ‘They will arrive soon—’

‘NO!’ Geta screamed, cutting his mom’s off. ‘WHERE IS SHE?!’ And Julia figured out he was talking about you. ‘Please she—’ But the look he gave her sent a thrill down her spine. He made it clear she would not dare to make him repeat himself.

Julia gulped, now a bit afraid of her son. ‘She’s gone, Geta. You can’t have her… she’s married.’ Her last words felt like a punch in the guts. Geta let go of his mother and, without a word, as she thought, he walked away. When he reached the big wooden door to exit his mother’s quarters, he stopped.

‘I am the emperor,’ his voice surprisingly calm and steady. ‘I can have whatever I want.’

A few days have passed since you ran off the palace. Your husband was back from the countryside with new fabrics to sell at the market. It had been two weeks since he last saw you so when he noticed you were home, waiting for him, he couldn’t stop himself. He was too excited.

‘I missed you so much,’ he said as he was kissing your lips and caressing your body under his. You shivered as your mind was elsewhere. As you closed your eyes, flashes of deep brown eyes flooded. You could hear his voice whispering praises. You imagined it was him kissing you right now. You snapped your eyes open, ashamed of thinking about someone else while your husband was making love to you. But it didn’t felt the same anymore. He tasted different, his touch wasn’t enough. Even when he dived inside of you, your pussy was aching, not feeling full enough. You hated yourself right now. And the feeling lingered as your life kept going.

Guilt, shame, and irritation followed you for days. Your husband noticed something and tried his best to understand what was going on but you shut yourself, not letting him in. You didn’t wanted to hurt him, even though you knew you already had and he had no clue.

At the end of the week, Rome was celebrating. It was announced that the royal family of Galatia was there. Games would be played in the arena and tons of merchants were in the flooded streets to sell pastries, exotic fruits, and other things to the citizens and guests. To get a better chance at selling more, your husband asked you to accompany him.

As you were behind your stand, you caught a woman staring at you. You didn’t pay attention at first but then you noticed she was talking to other women around her. All of them looking at you and giggling. As you stared back, you recognized their outfit and then, it snapped at you. They were all servants at the palace. And the way one of them looked at you with a devilish smile, you understood. That night when you were towering back to the empress’s quarters, you heard something. You heard footsteps but saw no one. But this girl, you knew she saw you.

It couldn’t be otherwise.

You wanted to do something. But what? Confronting them could pull out the truth and your husband would know. The worst thing would be for the entire city to know that you, a married woman, ended up in the virgin emperor’s bed. It could bring shame to the entire royal family and you would be sent to exile if not killed in a public place.

You felt sick, bile stinging in your throat. You had to do something, to find a solution. The servants scattered and you wondered how much time it would be left for you until the rumor spread and landed in Geta’s ears. You looked around you, it was late in the afternoon so you could pretend you needed some rest and go home alone and figure it all out there.

‘Are you alright dove?’ your husband asked you, worried in his voice as he looked at you. He saw the panic in your eyes, you couldn’t hide it.

‘I’m just… I don’t feel well. I think I need to rest.’ Your husband tilted his head, trying to understand your late behavior. But he remembered his father teaching him how women could be very mysterious creatures and that sometimes, a man should know when to let go.

‘Right, why don’t you go with Orina? Her husband told me she also wanted to leave the market early.’ You nodded as he kissed your forehead and you walked toward Orina. 

She was older than you, her husband was a spice seller. Convenient for you, she went to the marker with her horse. So you ride behind her until you both reach her house. She offered you to stay but you declined politely and walked toward your little house. The sun had disappeared when you pushed your cottage’s wooden door. You sigh, your mind racing with thoughts. You felt your headache growing and then an idea came out.

You had to disappear.

Julia did her best to not let her son comb through the entire city to find you. When the royal family of Galatia arrived, Geta was trapped. He had to stay at the palace for his guests but he was boiling inside. His mother’s plans felt like betrayal and in his rage, he thought for a second to punish his mom for this. Even when he was in the arena, watching the games, his mind was elsewhere. He was obsessed with you, the souvenir of your lips on his haunting his every thought. His mother tried to force him to get closer to Princess Nazenin, but Geta only stayed polite, his coldness toward her barely hiding. 

The fight down in the arena was almost finished when a servant sneaked in to whisper something to the king. His eyes went wide and his fist landed abruptly on the arm of his chair. Everybody was startled and turned around to look at him. Anger was written on his face as he first looked at Geta and then at the empress. 

‘You lied to us!’ he screamed and Julia rose from her throne. ‘Your Highness I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ her tone was desperate as she was lost, not knowing what was happening.

‘You told us we would come here to marry our children but it came to my ears that your son is already engaged to an insignificant whore?!’

Julia’s eyes went wide but it was nothing compared to Geta’s. He grabbed his dagger from his golden belt and aimed at the king, his blade stopping at his throat, dangerously close to cut through his skin. Everyone on the balcony was shocked and Geta spoke, his voice trembling with hate and rage.

‘Never call her that again.’ He took a look around, noticing everyone's reaction. Caracalla was bouncing on his throne, thrilled to see his brother kill someone. His mother was mortified, silently pleading for the king’s life. The princess was kneeling before him, also praying for the emperor to let her father go. And finally, he noticed the servant hiding behind a collum. He let go of the king, not even listening to the relief and complaints of what just happened and walked toward the servant.

‘Who told you that?’ Geta asked, gripping firmly at the collar of the servant’s tunic. She was so scared of him that nothing came out of her throat. ‘TELL ME! He shouted and the servant babbled her answer.

‘Da-Dalia, she saw the concubine at the market selling fabrics, and she—’ Geta didn't let her finish her explanation. He let her go and, without looking back, left the coliseum. He took a horse and rode to reach the marketplace. The streets were still full of people but he didn’t mind, hurrying the animal to go faster. When he saw the first fabric stand, he looked around to find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He noticed that the sellers were often couple or at least two for one stand. So when he found one with only a man behind his display, he reached for him.

‘You!’ Geta called, pointing at the man. The seller bowed before him and tried to hide his nervousness. ‘Are you alone?’ The man rose to look at the young emperor, not really sure why he could ask him such a question. ‘Don’t make me repeat myself,’ Geta’s impatience showed in his tone.

‘Yes, Your Highness I’m alone. My wife just left to get some rest—’

‘What’s her name?’ Geta cuts him off and confusion could be seen on the seller’s face. When he told Geta your name, the emperor saw red. He was your husband. How could you be with such a simple man when you deserved the entire world?! This man couldn’t even afford golden threads for his fabrics. Or worse, he couldn’t even protect you from those horrendous rumors. He could get rid of him so easily, but this would be for later. Right now, Geta needed to find you. ‘Where is she now?’

‘Home, she was—’

‘Where?!’ Your husband gave him the information and Geta didn’t waste a second, his horse galloping as fast as it could.

Your house wasn’t far from the city and when he saw the little cottage with two pine trees as your husband described it, Geta felt some relief for a short second.

But panic started to get over him as he saw no fire or candlelight from the little window. You weren’t there. He crossed the little bridge and hurried to your front garden. He climbed out from his horse, attached the leash to the wooden hedge, and started looking for you. At first, he tried to broke into your house but the door was locked and he could guess you weren’t inside anyway. But when he looked around, he noticed a little dot of light moving further on the unpaved path.

A candlelight. 

You were grabbing your cape tightly as you were walking away from Rome. You decided it was best for you to leave this place before it could go out of hand. You didn’t wanted your husband to be shamed, and you wanted to avoid your head to end up on a stick. But as you were running away from your life, you heard someone shout your name and heavy hooves hitting the ground. When you turned around, Geta was there, slowing his horse as he got closer to you. You let go of the little candle you were handling and started to run but he was faster, getting in your way.

‘Where do you think you’re going?!’ Geta said, his tone harsher than he intended. You took off your hood and looked at him, wondering how he ended up here. Why did he came after you after all these days? Wasn’t he supposed to get married to whatever child this royal family brings?

‘Your Highness you—’ 

‘Stop calling me like that,’ he cuts you off. ‘Stop pretending nothing happened between us.’ You swallow hard. Of course, you couldn’t act like he wasn’t on repeat in your mind. That is why you were leaving in the first place.

But your ego was also big and you didn’t wanted to show him how much you were affected by him.

‘This is the only way… Your Highness,’ you dared and turned back to walk away. Now you were getting on his nerves and he hated this attitude of yours. He grabbed you by the arm to stop you, bringing you close to him. You tried to set free in vain. He was strong, his grip already bruising your skin but not in a sweet way. You cried out, pleading for him to let you go. Geta grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look at him, his pupils all blown out.

‘My mom told me I can’t have you but I told her otherwise,’ he stated with gritted teeth. ‘So stop playing games. Let me take you back to the palace.’

‘I don’t care what you told to your mom. I’m married, you can’t have—’

‘STOP IT!’ Geta shouted, and you stopped fighting, stunned by his loud voice. ‘Stop telling me that I can’t have whatever I want. I am the emperor, I take what I please. Your husband? I can get rid of him so easily, you have no idea.’ Your body shivered. You couldn’t let him kill your husband, it was too extreme. Geta saw the panicked look in your eyes. His grip on you loosened but he made sure to keep you close, his arms now encircling your body gently. He offered you a smile to ease the tension between you and he spoke again, his voice soft and calm.

‘I almost killed a king for you today. And I would kill anyone if it’s the only way to have you by my side.’

His eyes locked on yours and you noticed how serious he was. Of course, he had to go for the most intense way. His gaze softened as you were still silent and he softly called out your name.

‘Please, come with me. I—I don’t even know how you did this to me. All I know is that I can’t live without you. I need you more than a starved man needs food I… I need you more than a fool needs guidance from the Gods.’

‘Geta please, we can’t—’ you tried but he cupped your face, his rings cold against your hot cheeks. ‘I would burn Rome and the entire world if you ask me to,’ he whispered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. ‘Please,’ his words only a gentle murmur now. His lips crushed on yours and you melt at his touch, your body entirely burning for him.

Everything around you disappeared as his embrace tightened around you. You hummed when he tried to play with your tongue, and your hands instinctively went to get tangled in his ginger locks. His hands were roaming on your body, making you feel safe, loved, and worshipped. You gently pulled out to get some air and you looked at him. Geta’s cheeks were all flushed, his deep brown eyes falling to your lips before locking his eyes in yours.

You took a deep breath, thinking about what you would say to him. But before you could say anything, he took out his golden-leaves crown to put it on your head and fell to his knees. His arms still encircling you, he looked at you one more time before nudging his face at your belly, his hot breath fanning over your core through your dress. He inhaled your scent and hummed in satisfaction before pulling away to lock his eyes into yours again.

‘Please, let me make you the greatest empress Rome has ever known.’

At this moment, it felt right to nod your head in approval. You couldn’t refuse him anything with the way he was staring at you. He never looked so desperate yet so hopeful. His grip around you was soft yet strong and you realized how madly in love Geta was. You cupped his face to bring him back close to yours as you sighed, still thinking about your decision.

‘Geta,’ you spoke softly as you got lost in his deep chocolate haze. ‘I—What will happen next?’

You were waiting for something, a reason to say no, or maybe something that doesn’t sound crazy. But the truth was that you wanted to be his as he stole your heart in the sweetest way possible. He might had a sixth sense because his answer reflected what you were thinking.

‘You stole my heart the moment I saw you in the palace. And for as long as I remember, you were the only one visiting me in my dreams. If you agree to go back to the palace with me, I promise you only glory and happiness. I want you to be the empress of Rome. I want you to be my wife. And I want you to be the mother of my children. Because you deserve the world, I will bring it to you, fighting and winning every battle I can to show you that I’m worthy of your love.’ He kissed you on the corner of your lips and added in a whisper. ‘That’s what will happen, I promise.’

Without thinking twice, you crushed your lips on his, gripping his robe to get him as close to you as possible. Your kiss was wild, full of hope and desires, the moon and stars the only witnesses of this raw love you showed him. When you pulled out to breathe, Geta’s eyes were full of spark and lust, mirroring yours. You both didn’t ride back to the palace, spending the night entangled in each other’s arms, making love under the moonlight.

When the morning sun rose up, and after putting back your clothes on, Geta offered you his help to get on the horse. ‘Your Highness,’ he said with a very distinguished tone. ‘Your throne awaits.’ You giggled at his sudden playfulness, surprising you with a new side of him you know you will be more than happy to discover. As you encircled your arms around his waist, he caressed your hand and softly ordered the horse to walk.

‘I can’t wait for Rome to see you, my empress. ’

[dr-mp3]

i cant get this shitass movie out my head its been MONTHS. i don't even know why I like it I really don't my brain just started liking it a lot and uncontrollably for some reason

anyways i wanted to do this silly little doodle because of a picture I saw which was this and I just thought it fit hehe

[skrunksthatwunk]

i think i mentioned this a while back but im working on an "every kuwameshi" video right (yes it's ridiculous i know somebody take them away from me) and i just need to say im so fucking sick of editing the saint beasts arc </3 pls i love that one normally but this section of the video is like. 70% silent group shots it's so bad and not fun to watch or edit and i hate it :[

[cptnbeefheart]

man idk if its depression or hormones or what but ive been crying like a little baby the last like 5 days. last night i cried so hard i passed tf out in my jeans 😭😭 

[homunculus-argument]

I may be swinging a fruit bat in a room full of hornet's nests here, but do americans know that most of the world doesn't look the way the US does? Like, specifically concerning ethnic diversity.

Coming from Europe, the fist time I went to the US, I was shocked by it, not in a negative way but in the same "wow, that's a real thing?" sort of way as western people finding out that there actually are that kind of pillar mountains in China, or americans who had never seen Fjord Horses in anything but the movie Frozen finding out that those fantastical yellow ponies are actually real.

And it wasn't some "backcountry rural hick sees Different Colour Person for the first time and dies of shock" sort of a thing. I had travelled before, and at 19 I considered myself quite worldly enough to go to a different continent I had never been on to go meet up a man from the internet, all by myself. I had been all over Europe from Iceland to St. Petersburg and from Norway to France, I have travelled. It was a slow realisation that it's turtles all the way down, that actually got me.

Being in an airport, going from one airport to another, I wasn't surprised by the sheer range of different kinds of people I saw. Airports just look like that, all over the world. Taking one flight after another, I didn't pay much attention to that, because airports just look like that. The "wait, holy shit" didn't hit me until I was already in rural Kentucky, in a fucking Wal-Mart. And if you're an american and the thought of a late teens nordic kid stepping foot into a Wal-Mart for the frist time and thinking "wow, this is actually what America looks like, all the time" makes you want to get defensive, it was by no means a negative feeling.

It was like looking into a bag of M&Ms. That's the only way I could describe it. Every single fucking person, group or family that I saw was apparently different colour and creed than the last ones who passed by. I had never seen black women with styled hair before because in Finland almost every single black woman you see is muslim and their hair is covered. I was used to the concept of large cities being more diverse, in FInland larger cities are the places where you're most likely to see people who aren't white. And I was stunned by just how colourful the population was in goddamn Beaver Dam, Kentucky.

I'm not trying to make any kind of a political point here. I'm just talking from my own experience as a Chronically Online European who has actually been abroad: City streets that look the way they do in the US are completely foreign to most people who are not american. And every time you people start complaining about why a game that's set in Poland, made by polish creators who have never been outside of Poland, only has polish people in it, they genuinely do not know what the hell you're talking about.

[xinganhao]

🧸 svt checking in on an overworked!reader.

anon → "Can I request texts from SVT who are crushing on yn who is working late, checking on her and offering to buy delivery food since she hasn't eaten?"

⌗ ┆the way this request #healed me.. ty anon. (*´ -`)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: overworked!reader, tired!reader, lots of fluff :(, svt caring for reader, headcanons under the cut.

🧸 headcanons .ᐟ

seungcheol doesn't ask you if you want something; he just gets it for you. he'll get delivered what he thinks is best for your current state or something he knows you'll like. it could be a meal, could be a little trinket. money is of little object when the concern is making sure you're ok. see also: sets a special text ringtone for you, quietly plans a spa day for you to destress once the worst is over.

jeonghan won't go to sleep until you do. his check-ins seem nonchalant, but make no mistake. he's more likely to crash with his phone in his hand, having waited for your reply. see also: teases you that you should quit your job and he'll provide for you, enthusiastically wake-up calls you when you ask for it.

a design program? some excel formulas? joshua will learn anything and everything if it means he can help you, even a little. he'll never force you to give him your work, but he just wants you to know that the option is there. see also: makes you room sprays for days when you're work from home, gives you all the best gossip when you need a break.

junhui's tactic is a little backhanded, but he's genuine enough to pull it off: he gives you something to look forward to. whether it's a trip to an amusement park or the newest movie in cinemas, he's already securing you your much-needed break. see also: watches 'healing' dramas with you, gifts you pillows/blankets/pajamas as a 'gag' gift (when he really just hopes you'll rest more).

if he's not sending silly selfies of himself, soonyoung is bombarding you with photos of latte! he likes to think latte's cuteness eases some of your stress. (although he's also the first to insist that he's much, much cuter.) see also: gets genuinely offended on your behalf when your bosses/clients don't treat you well, takes you to rage rooms after particularly busy weeks.

wonwoo is always on the lookout for listicles about things-that-make-work-easier. he'll buy you a certain type of snack or get you a brand of coffee if someone vouched for its quality. he has a very 'don't-mention-it' vibe about how he cares for you. see also: wordlessly sends you openings to jobs he think will treat you better, asks often about whether your eyesight is worsening because of all your late nights.

it's no surprise that jihoon can be just as overworked as you; what is surprising is his easy willingness to co-work. he'll give up his studio for the night and focus on lyrics or something else entirely if it means keeping you some proper company. see also: buys convenience store meals for you, pries your laptop out of your hands when even he knows that it's been too much work.

mingyu will cook your tupperware after tupperware of meal prep if it makes your life easier. he does it under the guise of experimentation when, truthfully, he just wants to know that you're doing well while doing whatever you have to. see also: drives you wherever you need to go, won't move an inch if you fall asleep on him at any point in time.

seokmin is the type who likes to facetime while you work. you don't even have to talk to him; the two of you often do your own thing, and he just stays around for as long as you need him. see also: sends voice recordings of him belting your 'comfort' songs, showers your work in compliments if you ever tell him of the results/show him the finished product.

minghao is not in the business of assuming what you may or may not need; he much prefers that you let him know yourself. he's usually not so persistent, but he's adamant about not skipping meals. he's always willing to relieve you from the burden of choice— just say the word. see also: sends you guided meditation tiktoks, buys you cute office materials that he thinks you'll enjoy.

seungkwan believes that, in situations like these, photos speak louder than words. he'll send you a lot of uplifting memes that may seem insincere coming from anyone else, but you know that he means every single one of them. see also: always makes sure you have snacks in your home pantry, actively listens and responds to your rants about work.

vernon lets music do the talking. he's the type to curate very specific playlists for your situations; you've received a handful, from 'cramming a report' to 'i hate my boss'. see also: keeps a running list of films that he wants to watch with you when you're no longer busy, reads up on the terms you mention because he wants to understand what your work entails.

chan just— shows up. whether or not you're prepared for it, he'll come at the most ungodly hours, bearing anything from tubs of ice cream to fast food takeout. he either sticks around to just exist in your space or heads right home after; all he wants is to see with his own two eyes how you're doing. see also: sends you 'this is a sign to quit your job!' memes, (jokingly) vows to exact revenge on the company that has you working so hard.

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1486 words

You promised the girls just one blind date—nothing more, nothing less. At the time, it seemed like a harmless favor. But now, sitting across from your date in a dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with the aroma of their signature dish, the indistinguishable chatter of nearby diners, and the clatter of dinnerware, you’re starting to question that decision.

Connor shrugs, slicing into his steak with casual ease. “I didn’t do too much today. Babysat my nephew since my brother begged me,” he says, his tone indifferent. “But honestly, I hate babysitting his kid.”

“You don’t like kids?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice neutral. You gingerly push your fork through another piece of pasta, trying to maintain an air of indifference.

He looks up at you, his dark curls nearly black and bouncing with the movement. “Hate ’em,” he says without hesitation.

You can’t help but notice how much he resembles an off-brand version of James, and it frustrates you. His familiar features keep pulling your thoughts back to your best friend instead of your date. At least, that’s the excuse you’ve been clinging to for the past hour.

“Oh.” You say softly, placing the food on your tongue and chewing slowly as you stare down at your plate.

“Do you have a kid or something?” You look up, a pause in your chewing as you find Conner holding his glass and watching you closely like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

Your first instinct is to say yes, and you nearly cringe when you realize your mistake.

You finish chewing and swallow hard. “Uh, no,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for your wine to wash down your feelings. “But my best friend does. Single parent.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to add that last part.

Connor leans back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Well, good for her,” he says. He isn’t sure why you’re telling him this, and frankly, he doesn’t care.

You sit up straighter. “Him,” you correct. Connor raises an eyebrow and not much later, he calls for the check.

James is surprised when he sees your call. He knows you’re supposed to be on a date—Lily mentioned it—and he’s been stress-cleaning his house ever since. Halfway through he gave up and turned a movie on instead.

“Darling?” He answers, “Is everything alright?”

“It could be better,” you say with a laugh that falls short of genuine humor. “I’m not too far from your place. Could I come over? I’m just at the Windmere.”

“Yeah. Let me—” There’s shuffling on the line as James grabs his jacket. “—I’ll meet you.”

You huff, “No. You’ve got Henry asleep upstairs.”

“It’s five minutes.” James protests, heading to the kitchen to grab the baby monitor off the counter.

“Exactly, Jamie. I’ll be there soon. I love you.” You hang up before he can respond, leaving him thoroughly disappointed. He appreciates every chance to tell you he loves you, even if it's just as friends.

It takes you less than five minutes to get to his house, and James flings open the door before you can even knock, making you giggle.

“You worry so much about me, Potter.” You say with a teasing smile as you push past him and kick off your heels, the click of the shoes hitting the floor echoing in the entryway.

James stands by the door, his gaze following you with a mixture of concern and affection. “Of course I do. How could I not?” He replies, his voice earnest and warm.

You shrug off your jacket, and James’s gaze quickly settles on your tight black dress. The silky fabric clings to your figure and moves fluidly as you shift. James feels like he’s going to pass out from the sight—you look incredible, and he’s painfully aware that you’ve dressed up for another man.

He swallows hard, attempting to keep his voice steady. “So, how was the date?” He finally asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you might say next.

You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, the slight embarrassment making you smile softly. “What gave it away—the dress or the girls?” you ask, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your dress as if to acknowledge it.

“The girls,” he admits, a small chuckle escaping him as he glances over at the baby monitor to check on his son. “But the dress would’ve been a dead giveaway if they hadn’t.”

You laugh, the sound light and teasing as you catch his gaze. “They're awful at keeping secrets, aren’t they?”

“Was your date supposed to be a secret from me?” He asks, making his way to the couch with a curious look. The cushions sink slightly as he sits down, and you follow suit, settling in beside him.

“No, it wasn’t,” you say, surprised, turning to face James with wide, sincere eyes. “But I wasn’t exactly excited about it, either.”

He leans back, eyebrows furrowed, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your skirt. “ I don’t know,” you admit, voice softening as you look away. “I’ve never been on a blind date before, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And I guess... I’m glad I didn’t, in the end.”

James watches you closely, his eyes filled with curiosity. He’s trying not to appear too eager to learn about this date of yours. “Why’s that? Didn’t go well?”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly blink them away, hoping James doesn’t notice. But he does. “I just... I don’t know how to find someone,” you admit, your voice shaking slightly. “And it’s so discouraging that my friends set me up with a guy who’s completely wrong for me—well, except for his looks.”

James opens his mouth to ask what the guy looked like but holds back, sensing that this isn’t the moment.

“What does that say about my dating life?” You continue, a tear slipping down your cheek. “If my best friends don’t even know what I like in a guy?” You sniffle, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over your lips as you stare down at Henry’s toys scattered across the floor.. “I think I need to put myself out there more. Go on as many dates as possible. I need to meet someone.”

James feels like he’s going to be sick. He’s floundering for a way to tell you that, no, you absolutely shouldn’t. But how can he say that?

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Is there a rush? To find someone, I mean.”

You shrug, your gaze still fixed on the floor. “I know we’re both young, but I feel like if I don’t find someone now, it’ll only get harder down the line.”

“Oh.” He responds softly, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

A heavy silence settles between you, both lost in your thoughts, until you break it with a shaky voice. “Is there something wrong with me?”

James snaps his head up, startled. “What? No! Why would you even think that?” He asks, incredulous, his tone laced with concern.

“I’ve been asked out three times in my life,” you say quietly, your voice trembling. “And two of those were back in school. Is there something wrong with me?” Finally, you turn to look at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears clinging to your lashes.

“Darling, no,” James insists, his voice filled with genuine concern as he scoots closer to you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “You’re perfect.”

You sniffle, managing a small, sad smile. “Don’t lie to me, Jamie,” you say, trying to keep it light, but he can hear the trace of hurt beneath your words.

“I would never,” he murmurs, placing a tender kiss on your head as you settle back into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes you. “You're everything anyone could ever want—an absolute dream girl.”

“Stop it.” You whisper half-heartedly, though a part of you wants to believe him.

“I'm serious,” he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. “Whoever you end up with will be incredibly lucky.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the room filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing.

“I’ll help you look for dates, if you want.” He offers suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Regret washes over him immediately; he wishes he could take them back. The mere thought of you on a date with another guy twists his stomach into knots, but actually helping you choose someone else? Brutal.

You tilt your head to press a kiss gently to his jaw. Your voice is a soft whisper, filled with gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie.”

He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.

[verstappen-cult]

you come home after a girl’s night out to find charles lying on your bed, arms resting behind his head as he watches an action movie in your room.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, amused.

you leave your heels by the foot of the bed, walking to your vanity to take your necklace and earrings off.

charles smiles at you through the mirror. “waiting for you.” he says it so casually, so genuine, like he does not have somewhere to be, at the other side of the world, early in the morning.

“i missed you,” you feel shy admitting it, you saw him just a couple of hours ago, before leaving for the club with your friends. it’s not like you can’t live without him or max, but they have so little free time that all you want to do when they’re home is cuddle together and never leave your home. but your friends begged you to go with them and as much as you wanted to stay with your boyfriends, you also wanted to see your girl friends. “they played that song you like so much. it made me missed you even more.”

charles coos at you, forgetting the movie to, instead, make grabby hands. it makes you giggle but you are immediately sprinting to the bed, climbing carefully onto his lap.

“and what about you?” you play with the collar of his shirt, looking at your boyfriend from beneath your eyelashes. “did you miss me?”

“we missed you very much.” max enters the room making you smile even brighter. he walks to the side of the bed where both of you are and places a cup of tea on your nightstand. you pout at him and he leans to give you a little peck on the lips. “did you have fun? how much did you drink?” there’s genuine concern in his voice that leaves you flustered, feeling small and taken care of.

“oh, just two gin and tonic’s, and i’m definitely sober if that is what you’re asking.” max nods, smile on his face as he retrieves a make-up remover from your vanity. “and it was such a fun night!” you clap your hands, ranting about how one of your friends kept flirting with the bartender even when he said he was gay and definitely not interested.

“and what about you?” charles asks, playing with a strand of your hair. “did someone try to make a move with you?”

“as if someone would dare to try something.” that earns you a disapproving glare from your blonde-haired boyfriend. “everyone in monaco knows who i belong to.” you touch the tip of max’s nose with the pad of your finger. “only you two.”

max climbs on the bed next to charles, and the latter wraps his free arm, the one not on your waist, around max shoulders, hugging him tightly against his side.

you let max wipe the make-up off your face as they listen to you describe everything that happened that night, even the moment a group of girls approached you to say how jealous they were that you are dating two of the most hot and talented (you added that, they didn’t actually say it but you like to point it out every time you can) drivers on the grid.

“i like to know i make girls jealous.” you say without an ounce of regret, looking between your boyfriends. why would you feel ashamed, right? “and i like to know i’m the only one to have you both.”

[nadiajustbe]

@callonpeevesie

THANK YOU.

Honestly, no contempt for movie-only fans, but this guys can be... pretty funny with about zero understanding of the book characters besides what they read once in a TikTok comments. Movie is so different from the books that they're just NOT comparable, when you don't want do point out the difference or/and make a joke. Really, Howell Jenkins is not your "that's my girl" perfect fantasy guy with an American accent, just...have him and leave peacefully, no one tries to take him from your bare hands. Movie is beatiful and charming as it's own story. You can love the story without trying to justify it in book-only (or mixed) fans, trust me, we're good/nonneg.

(Sometimes I'm also sure that the guys who says so either didn't read the book or have read it once five years ago and also the same guys who try to point out Howl's "red flags" like the worst person in the world. Just. Reread it. Pls. Not everyone has to be perfect, in fact, no one is perfect. That's not that big of a deal, that's what good about book Howl)

YES THEY DID MAKE HER A VILLAIN IN THE MOVIE. Moreover, they mixed her and Ben (and partly the King) into a character called ms. Suliman, wich is...what was wrong with ms. Pentstemmon? You have already made her into an old Howl's mentor, that's basically her just evil. I know this name is difficult to pronounse, but let's be honest — we can all just call her "ms. P" and move on. And also yeah, Howl loves ms. Pentstemmon as a mentor (and maybe even partly mother-like) figure, she was the first person to meet him in the new world, the only person to get his "painfully ordinary name" right AND she is the one who gave him everything he wanted to learn. He would make her a hero, but def not a villain.

OH YES. Everytime I heard this part of the quote I thought it was about her "seeing" the story and narrating it this way — after all, it's her POV written there, but If they mean that it's how she would tell the story, like, to someone else? Using fist person pronoun? God, no. She was already a unreliable narrator, putting as much of her personal thoughts in a third person POV, trying not to give readers any info about her feelings for Howl. They think If she had a chance to actually tell she wouldn't be even more unreliable??? They think she would sit there and sincerely say:

"Yeah I accidentally charmed Howl's suit to attract ladies and though it worked really really good on me but turned out he was just hot and I was so angry because of it, that I threw a bucket of weed killer onto his head and almost unalived him..."

HOWL is the one who's gonna tell that, in every possible detail, lovingly and mockingly using Alice in the Wonderland references no one understands. Sophie is the one who's gonna avoid it at all costs. She would be, in fact, so pissed because of her long denial phase I doubt she would touch on this at all, resulting people asking where all this live story Howl was talking about at.

She would add that he gave him a flower field and she appreciated it as much as she could with all his "horrible ways" (because don't tell me she wouldn't use the opportunity to of her retelling mock Howl as much as he mocked her in his, describing all the layers of dust on his bed and repeatedly noting that he couldn't play the guitar.), but would not mention that her first thought of "apprecation" was "This flowers smells like Howl right from the bathroom)

(Probably the "annoyed but loving" expression was the main thing to convince the audience that she in fact DOES really loves this horrible man, and there was a love story. Like she tries but she can't hide it. The main problem of Sophie throughout the book is that she really down bad for this man and not like something can change it. Is she gonna tell about it in all the details? NO LOL.)

She is the girlfailure and girlboss. Howl, in contrast, is just a failure. And a loser. Don't let him trick you with his cool wizard carer, it doesn't change anything. Too bad she loves him. Too bad they actually do suit each other in their flawed insanity.

But yes. The book is how Sophie narrates the story, def not how she would tell it. This is two really different things.

Don't think I'm finished on "Movie is how Howl tells the story..." statement. Because it's fundamentally wrong.

Look, I get it when you want to say that the hmc movie is its own story with an original plot — because it is, mostly, the only things that remain are the concept and some hits given here in there that lead to nowhere. However, movie is absolutely not how Howl would tell the story. It is, in fact, pretty opposite of it in some aspects.

Even when talking about Howl self-image, wich started it all, I think people keep forgetting how self-aware Howl can be. He knows he's vain and cowardly and an absolute loser and he doesn't want to be respectful whatsoever. He even tells Michael that, quote

“I know I’m slapdash, but there's no need for you to copy me"

And the whole ending sequence is just him being honest with Sophie and telling her the truth about who he thinks he is and his weaknesses. He pretty much states all he flanks are weak — he knows it, and it is true. Would he try to make it all more romantic and cool and so he would make himself seem less of a loser? Yes, absolutely. Would he make it by erasing absolutely everything about his character being unique and standing out turning it into a whole-blown "love peace not war" story? Absolutely not.

He may not mention him getting with another women every week, that's true. But he wouldn't leave out his stupidly-"romantic" nature while he was doing so, and he would not leave the guitar courting stuff out just because it's connected to it, gosh, he thinks it's cool.

Yes, he is quoting Shakespeare and John Dohn and he is poetic and sometimes overly romantise thinks to make it more dramatic, but that does not mean he's gonna achieve it by leaving out all his shenanigans whatsoever. Also, note, he does not want to be seen perfect by everyone, just by ones he thinks is important to him or his life or his stupid decisions. After all, he was the one who started the rumors about Wizard Howl being a heart-eater. He was the one to ask Sophie to blaken his name — to show him in the worst light possible.

"He wants to be seen perfect by everyone" is such a... mediocre analysis of his character, honestly, it might work with appearance, in Ingary at least, but personality wise. He want to be seen so only when it benefits him and people he thinks highly of. When he thinks that too high thoughts about him would bring him into trouble, give him unwanted attention or make him actually works, that his last wish ever. That's the whole subplot of the book — Howl does not want to be seen too good by the king because it's gonna lead him somewhere he doesn't want to be. Hell, he even denies doing something just because he wanted to help, saying that he "did it for money".

(it doesn't mean he wants people to see him as someone great, it's just that's pretty selective and his "perfect" persona is as fake as his "horrible wizard one)

Movie!Howl might be Book!Howl propaganda, but definitely not ALL of him. Some parts, some scenes, some moments might work (and that's actually the most accurate thing out of all statement), but I don't personally think this is the EXACT way Howl would tell his character.

Him telling about Sophie is the whole other thing. He LOVES Sophie for how crazy and stubborn and nosy and moody she can be — there's NO WAY he's not gonna give weed killer a half an hour or screen time just to talk about what haos of a woman his wife is. Yes, some of them might not fit into his "perfect picture" but he loves Sophie, and he loves what she does with this "perfect picture" and he's gonna give another hour on them bantering just because Sophie is being Sophie. He's NOT gonna leave out everything he loves about Sophie making her kind-hearted quiet protagonist with one mean line, the ones she was supposed to be the opposite, the caricature of.

There's also no way he would make Michael into a... white about six years old child? He may see him younger than Sophie does due to them growing up in a different environments, true, but 1) not that much 2) the whole thing about Michael is that he's the most responsible adult-like person in the whole Castle, despite being the youngest of all them, and Howl also KNOWS that. Also there's no need to change his skin or hair colour, as well as making him having no role in the story. I don't think he'll mention Michael trying to catch a star because of his nephew's homework — this is embarrassing, after all, but there's so MUCH more of Michael than that.

He's not gonna may ms. Pentstemmon a villain of any kind. Letting alone mixing her with Ben for some reason (who to hell is ms. Suliman, seriously?? W H Y). He highly respects her, to the point he's ready to attend her funeral even If it's gonna make him dead. If anything, he's gonna show her figure even more heroic than she is, maybe adding a whole sequence with her heroicly fighting with WoTW and loosing with an epic SGI. But making her a villain? No. Just not. There's no reason for that.

There's also no WAY he wouldn't mention Wales. He LOVES his country, he outright states it with "I love Wales but Wales doesn't love me" quote. Yes, there's jokes about Megan being a war metaphor, but Wales is not just Megan — it's also Mari, Niel, his old rugby team, his childhood and teen years, his memories and his experience. He would not make that portal If there was no things he wants to go back for — it's such an obvious weakness of his that WoTW notices it right away. He may not mention getting drunk before a fight, but he's gonna mention Wales.

(also I think people exaggerate Howl's hate for Megan. Yes, their relationship are far from perfect, but they still talk, she lest him go into her house announced and her family is what triggers him to fight with his evil ex in the first place. They may not be on a good terms but they DIDN'T cut off their connection. And "hate" is def not the word for that. Don't forget his first reaction to Sophie being in danger in CITA is "send her to Wales to his sister". He sees Wales as safe and reliable place, this is his first solution for dangerous situations. Even when he's not the biggest fan of his sister herself.)

He's also not gonna leave the sister subplot simply cause it was funny. He may change WoTW because he doesn't like her but he's not gonna make her live with them and feed her with a spoon, for the God's sake, that's disgusting. Him making himself Ingarian is the last thing he would do. He would NEVER.

(he's also not gonna leave out Shakespeare quoting in the sake of "romantise sequence you guys are talking about.)

Also, he could not care less about the war. I've seen a war with my own eyes, and... this is really, eh, too optimistic image of it I might say. Somehow realistic in showing it, but not by the way it provides solution, honestly. "Let's all just create love and King's gonna cancel war" IT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS. NO.

When he did attend war in CITA, he literally have won it by bringing IBUPROFEN onto the war field. Ibuprofen and bandages. What a "all-giving" reckless hero, really.

Book!Howl is a caricature to everything Movie! Howl is, and otherwise would not tell the story providing cliches he himself is the opposite of. He's a loser and an idiot and we love him for that.

It's two completely different stories. There's no need to connect them. Please.

[luveline]

I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻

thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader

"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 

You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 

That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 

"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 

"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.

Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 

You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 

"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 

"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 

It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?

"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 

Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 

"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 

"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 

You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).

"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 

Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 

"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 

"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 

"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 

Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 

"I'd love to," Spencer says. 

"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 

"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 

"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 

You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 

Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 

"Sure."

[babyleostuff]

jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k

. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character

“cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.

sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year. 

you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.

“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand. 

any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.

with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.

normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

now it was him and his pout against the world.  

“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window. 

if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.

“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.” 

he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness. 

“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall. 

how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive? 

"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word. 

he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.

besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand. 

looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet. 

he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you. 

“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.” 

you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took. 

“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.

“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.” 

“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.

“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already. 

you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened. 

"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.

cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.  

"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?" 

your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.  

"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy. 

"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?" 

"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.” 

seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed. 

“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.” 

seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you. 

“i’m really sorry.” 

“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

[ddarker-dreams]

Hey Lock!!!! How are you doing? Do you have any Chrollo crumbs for us? 👀👀👀👀

i'm doing well today anon, thank you for asking!!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖 and yes ... i have this chrollo thought that has been floating around in my head rent-free...

chrollo is not a yandere you want to genuinely upset.

he doesn't do 'forgive and forget.' he may appear outwardly courteous, but he's not above being petty and cruel. it's for your benefit that he keeps these tendencies to himself. there are days you can forget who exactly he is, days where he feels more like a pesky ex than an actual threat. deep down in your subconscious, you know you'd never make it far should an escape find initial success. the usual avenues won't be available to you. there's no flagging down a bystander, who in turn will alert the authorities and shuffle you off into protective custody.

there's just you and the dwindling distance between an immensely displeased force.

you're unsure what compels you to do it. perhaps it's paranoia, exhaustion, or sheer desperation from how little you can actively do to prevent what awaits; but you call him. on a payphone, amidst a bustling metropolis. you're seconds away from transit that'd speedily haul you away, should he track the call. your mouth goes dry as each ring sounds. you begin having second thoughts, wondering what exactly it is you're hoping to accomplish—

—when a familiar voice on the other line greets you. the quality distorts it ever so slightly, but your recognition is immediate, as is the way your heart temporarily stops.

he'll ask if you're alright. if you've been resting well, getting enough to eat, taking your medication.

your responses are automatic, like you're catching up with an old friend. he doesn't come across as angry, or upset really; more concerned than anything else. he does care about you. nothing you do will ever change that. he knows your allergies, what you prefer the AC to be on in the summer and heat in the winter, to turn on the subtitles when watching a movie without even asking.

he knows you.

you didn't mean to chat this long. it's a bad idea, potentially the start of the end, yet you can't help asking:

"... are you mad at me?"

he goes quiet.

not much time passes. you think you hear him sigh, but the connection's bad and your brain sleep deprived.

"i don't know, dear," he eventually admits. the pet name lacks its usual warmth. "i'm always pursuing you in some regard, aren't i? and yet... you always turn your back. always evade me, right at the last second. just when i think i finally have you, i'm reminded removing your heart might be my best chance at having it."

another pause.

"don't mind my musings. we both know out of all the lives i'll take, yours is perfectly safe."

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett x gn! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ receiving a hug from logan howlett after a bad day┊0.4k words

contains: hurt/comfort!! established relationship, mention of drowning, reader is shorter

➤ author's note: i really need a hug right now… save me logan howlett, save me T-T (how come all of my fics round to 400 words? it seems like a magic number)

when you return home to logan with clenched fists, glossy eyes, and raw lips from continuously ripping the skin away, you can’t see the concern lacing his features when you’re keeping your head down in embarrassment and putting up your jacket, but you can feel his burning gaze drilling holes into you. 

“bad day?”

“...yeah…” you hate being vulnerable or feeling weak around him, especially when you feel like your struggles aren’t even a fraction as bad as all that he’s gone through.

you can hear him grunt in response and the clink of glass on a table, which you assume is him putting up a bottle of beer, before making his way over to you and wrapping you up in a tight embrace. the gesture wasn’t sudden, but the warmth and comfort that came with it was. you can feel the tears begin to spill over your waterline as you hug him back, burying your face in his chest and murmuring a muffled word of thanks. in the slur of negative emotions, you had forgotten just how much he cares for and values you. 

“do you wanna talk about it?”

“not yet…” you’ll tell him later, maybe in the morning when you calm down. it’s nice to remember how he wouldn’t judge you for your own issues, fondly recalling him reminding you that the depth of the water doesn’t matter when you’re both drowning.

his arms encompassing your body feel so much nicer than normal when upset, full of genuine care that tells you that he was there for you and that everything would work itself out in the end. it’s strong and unabashed, but not overwhelming or suffocating, just safe and full of love and affection. one wouldn’t look at this killing machine mutant and think that he gives good hugs, yet they really are the best and immediately lift your spirits. all the problems you had seem to melt away and the world that you find moves too fast and unpredictably stills, allowing you to finally breathe a sigh of relief. 

“well, you can tell me later when you are ready.” he places a kiss on your head before holding your face in his large hand and lifting it to look up at him, gently kissing away the sadness dripping from your beautiful eyes and smiling when you chuckle at his actions. “how about we order something and watch a movie?”

“that sounds perfect,” you pause for a second, relishing the moment, “i love you, lo.”

“i love you too, bub.”

[chillian-murphy]

Let Your Big Brother Take Care of You

SUMMARY: While visiting your stepbrother at college, you have a hard time falling asleep after some drunken mishaps. He helps you out.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dubcon, stepcest, intoxication, fingering, comfort sex kinda??, gratuitous mention of Taco Bell

Beta read by @sasybanana

Actually visiting with your step-brother had been the last thing on your mind when you told your parents that you would be visiting him this weekend. Sure, you got along fine, but you barely knew each other and it felt like he was moving out for college as soon as your families joined. Instead, you were hellbent on finding the best partying and hooking up opportunities his film school had to offer. Framing it as a sisterly visit and a chance to learn about campus life was purely an excuse to convince your parents to let you travel on your own, which they seemed to buy as you were headed off to school yourself next year. Besides, Neil had an off campus apartment you could crash at, which would be cheaper than a hotel.

He greeted you with a hug as you entered and set your stuff down, instantly being assaulted by the scent of unwashed laundry and old weed smoke. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was a nice taste of freedom from your mom’s house.

“So, my baby sister wants to visit me for the weekend, for reasons not at all related to my school’s reputation as a party campus?” He smirked as you situated yourself.

“Of course! Just like how my big brother spends all the money he gets from our parents on textbooks and tuition.” you shot back.

“Touché. Well, whatever trouble you’re determined to get into, fuck, I dunno, be smart about it. Use condoms, don’t get drugged. Don’t drink so much that you puke, or at least, try to puke somewhere other than carpet.”

“Wow… so caring.” you rolled your eyes as you headed to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. You snatched a flyer off of a phone pole for a house party, and the directions you got off google said it was only a few blocks away. As soon as you had your heels and your lashes on, you were off.

**********************************************************************************

Stumbling back to Neil’s apartment with your heels in your hand, the night had been a bust. You finished too many mystery drinks too fast and ended up puking in the lap of the one guy who was interested in you, locked yourself in the bathroom to cry for the better part of an hour, and bolted for the door as soon as you pulled yourself together. Thank fuck Neil had the first apartment on the first floor, otherwise you might not have been able to find it in your impaired state.

The door was unlocked, and Neil hadn’t moved from his place on the couch in the hours that you had been gone, presumably wrapped up in whatever it is that he does in his spare time (Watch movies? Play video games? Jerk off? You really didn’t know). This was fine, you really didn’t need him noticing you at the moment. You tried to enter quietly, but tripped over yourself as you moved.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Neil rushed over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. Unable to form words, you started crying again when you met his gaze, big fat mascara tears rolling down your cheeks. Even as he helped you to stand, you wobbled on your way up and had to lean on him for support.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Dunno… a lot.” It was true, you had chugged whatever you were handed and helped yourself to a variety of half-finished cups that were abandoned by their owners. You had never drank this much before, and had no idea how much was too much until it was too late.

“Shit, um, let’s get you to the bed. The room is yours tonight, don’t worry about it. Do you think you can walk that far?” There was genuine concern in his tone, even if he was a bit panicked and clueless. He looped an arm around your waist and guided you as best he could to the tiny room. Your flop onto the twin bed wasn’t exactly graceful, but landing on a mattress was about a thousand times more comfortable than landing on the floor.

As soon as Neil turned to leave, you began fighting your way out of your tight, itchy dress. Unfortunately, the zipper was stuck (damn cheap clothing) and the garment was too fitted to pull over your head. Refusing to spend any more time stuck in scratchy fabric hell (Seriously, Forever 21, who sells unlined sequined dresses?), you continued wrestling with the zipper and wiggling to find a better angle until you rolled off the bed and landed with a thud. Not knowing what else to do, you shouted for your stepbrother.

The worried look on his face quickly turned into an eye roll as he entered the room and saw you on the floor again.

“So are you like… determined to spend the whole night down there? Undeniably attracted to shitty carpeting? Horny for the floor?” Having a laugh at your drunken expense might not have been the nicest thing for Neil to do, but you were being such a handful tonight.

“I can’t get my dress off,” you sheepishly mumbled as you avoided his gaze. “The zipper’s stuck and I need your help.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Neil soothed as he knelt down to meet you on the floor. “If anything, I’m flattered… Usually I have to buy a girl dinner before she even thinks of asking me to undress her.”

You shot him an unamused glare, but nonetheless turned and leaned towards him so he could reach the zipper. His touch was warm and gentle as he fiddled with the impossibly tiny hook-and-eye clasp atop the zipper, one hand gently pressed against your upper back to steady you while the other went to work. Before you knew it, the dress slackened and you were able to free yourself from its confines, modesty be damned.

“A tiny little dress and no bra? You really were planning to have fun tonight.” You were still turned away from Neil and couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“It has built-in cups, pervert!” you huffed as you rushed to cover yourself. You groped around for a t-shirt or something before remembering that you were in an unfamiliar room and not at home. “Get out, I just wanna sleep.”

“That doesn’t explain the little lacy panties, though.” Neil let his eyes trail over you before tossing you one of his own shirts. It was true, you had gone out partying with the hope of hooking up as quickly and anonymously as possible, but you weren’t going to admit that. All you wanted was to gain a little sexual experience of your own before heading out to college, but now the only boy to see you naked was your weird stepbrother. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can’t even stand and I’ve had to help you up twice. You’re too much of a mess to be alone.”

He helped you onto the bed again, only this time he climbed in behind you after hitting the light. The bed was small enough that there was almost no choice but to snuggle up to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. As weird as the whole situation was, it felt nice having him there, like a grounding tether against the spinning sensation in your head.

“For what it’s worth, I thought you looked really cute tonight. Before all the puking and crying and falling, I mean.” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. As sweet as the gesture was, you couldn’t ignore the growing gurgle in your stomach.

“Neil… I want Taco Bell.”

“I’ll buy you all the Taco Bell in the world tomorrow if you settle down and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you buried your face into the crook between Neil’s neck and shoulder as he pulled you closer and idly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the sensation, which Neil tried his hardest to ignore.

Had you been a little more awake or a little more sober, you might’ve noticed the hitch in Neil’s breath as his hand trailed up and down your back, or the way his hand soon opened into a flat palm and started exploring lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your panties. Instead, you continued to lay silently, dozing off as his hand inched lower.

Eventually, his hand made its way to your ass and cupped the supple flesh. Feeling emboldened by your lack of response, Neil began to squeeze and knead. This made you squirm away, but in doing so, you were met with the perfect amount of friction as your clothed pussy rubbed against Neil’s thigh. Neither of you had realized just how closely you were snuggled together until now, when it dawned on you both what was happening.

Part of you panicked, part of you realizing that this was wrong through your drunken haze, but another part of you only cared that you were being touched, and it felt pleasurable. That was the whole reason you made this trip, right? you rationalized to yourself as you attempted to grind against your stepbrother’s thigh a second time. 

Instead of being met with the delicious friction, you felt Neil shift beneath you. Did you fuck this up? Were you just imagining his hand on your ass? But before you could worry any further, he was rolling you onto your back with his thick, firm leg pressing between your thighs and spreading them, and the unmistakable poking of his erection against the spot where your hip met your belly. He pushed his thigh against you, inviting you to grind it.

“Is this what my horny little sister needs? Can’t fall asleep without coming?” His voice was low and husky, in equal parts from being half asleep and his obvious arousal. You were starting to transition from drunk to hungover, feeling more drowsy and dizzy than anything else, and the most you could answer with was a pathetic little whimper as he nudged you.

You rubbed yourself against him as best you could, unable to find just the right angle from the new position you were placed in. In a fit of frustration, you tried pushing Neil off of you so you could rub yourself with your hand, but he was deceptively strong and had you pinned.

“Neeeeeeeeeiiiillllll” you whined, once again wondering if this was all a mistake, maybe you should just try to fall asleep and forget this ever happened. Forget the whole night ever happened. Change your name, move across the country, and never talk to anyone who witnessed tonight ever again.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, just lie there and let your big brother take care of you.”

Just lying there was about all you could do as Neil snaked one of arms between your legs, stroking your folds through your panties a bit aimlessly before gathering the courage to reach beneath the cloth and explore further. After a bit of awkward poking around, he found your clit and began circling it gently with his fingertips, eliciting another whimper, this time of pleasure.

“See? I know exactly what you need. M’gonna play with your little pussy until you relax and fall asleep, like a good girl.” His fingers began teasing your slit, tracing up and down its length without daring to breach inside. It never would have occurred to you that Neil would know his way around pussy, he never brought any girls home when he lived with you. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice after moving out, because the way his fingers were just barely ghosting over you was driving you crazy in a way you couldn’t understand. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue exactly what he was doing, you wanted him to start giving you more. All you knew was that you wanted him, and for him to keep touching you.

As if he could read your mind, he spread your innermost lips and plunged two of his fingers inside. The stretch was sudden, but not at all unwelcome. You were wet enough for him to thrust his fingers in and out of you easily, spreading your slick wherever he touched. As soon as he began alternating between fucking you on his fingers and roughly toying with your clit, you started seeing stars.

“You like that? You like me finger fucking your tight little pussy? I wish I could see it, I bet it's all pink and cute, like your nipples. I bet you’ve never even taken a cock before."

Too drunk, too horny, and too tired to form words, the most you could do was shyly squeak in affirmation.

“Next time I’ll have you bounce on my cock so I can watch your face as you come. Or maybe I’ll eat you out so I can really get to see how cute your pussy is. Or maybe you’ll just want to pay back the favor I’m doing you now and suck me off.”

Next time? You hadn’t considered something like this happening again, or even the fact that you’d have to see him again. In mixed company. With your parents around. Would he fuck you in your childhood bedroom while everyone else was downstairs cooking dinner? Or would he keep your liaisons a dirty little secret that only happened away from home?

You didn’t care. You were coming from your stepbrother’s touch, in your stepbrother’s bed, far away from anyone else you knew. You felt your stomach tighten and your toes involuntarily curl, much stronger than you ever felt sneakily rubbing yourself in the shower. Thank fuck you were in a dark room, because you swore you could feel your face going all stupid.

You must not have realized how much you were panting and clenching around his fingers, because Neil seemed to know exactly how close you were and began whispering in your ear, encouraging you to come. You could barely register what he was saying, you were so lost in the sensation of his breath on your neck and his hand on your cunt.

Your orgasm finally took hold, and you could hear yourself babbling in pleasure but had no idea what you were saying, if you were even forming coherent words, as the pleasure ripped through your body like an electric shock. After the initial burst, you felt your body relax in a way you didn’t know was possible, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding. You swore you could feel yourself melting through the mattress before realizing that no, that was just sweat.

Noticing that you were lying there like a limp noodle and no longer squirming and moaning, Neil rolled off of you, withdrawing his hand from your panties. His fingers were completely soaked with your wetness, and while his initial instinct was to wipe them off on his shirt, roll over, and go to sleep, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was rock hard. In a stroke of genius that would soon lead to literal stroking, he realized he had the perfect lube on hand.

He shoved his drenched hand down his boxers and began tugging his desperate member, softly grunting in rhythm with his pumping fist. Part of you felt bad that you weren’t helping, you had kinda forgotten that Neil was a complete person with desires of his own and not just a machine to get you off, but you were cozy and half asleep and he seemed to be handling the situation well enough on his own. At least, well enough that he was coming all over the front of his shirt.

He carefully pulled his soiled shirt over his head and wiped off his hand and what was left of his mess before tossing it on the floor and reaching for the blanket that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed amidst all the excitement. You felt yourself being tucked in as you gently dozed off, snuggling into Neil’s side as soon as he laid down beside you.

Yeah, you were going to visit your step brother a lot more often now.

[missrosiesworld]

The Proxy is Crushing?

Here are some cute headcanons for Wise when he has a crush:

Nervous and Fidgety: Wise tends to become visibly nervous around his crush. His usually calm demeanor becomes more anxious, often shifting his weight from one foot to the other or playing with his hands.

Crush: "Do you have any good documentary recommendations? I’ve been wanting to learn more about ancient civilizations."

Wise, fidgeting with a VHS tape and shifting his weight: "Oh, um, yes! There’s this amazing documentary about the history of Mesopotamia. It's really detailed and fascinating. I, uh, could lend you a copy if you'd like?"

Thoughtful Gestures: Wise pays close attention to the little details about his crush, often remembering their favorite things and surprising them with thoughtful actions. 

Wise, handing a fresh cup of coffee: "Here, I thought you might need this."

Crush, pleasantly surprised as they smell the coffee: "You remembered my favorite coffee blend?"

Wise, smiling shyly: "Yeah, I thought you might need a pick-me-up. I remembered you mentioned it last week."

Blushing: Despite his typically composed nature, Wise can’t help but blush when his crush compliments him or gets too close. 

Wise is organizing some VHS tapes on a shelf, focused on his task. He’s been chatting with his crush about the latest movie releases. 

Crush, smiling warmly: "You look really nice today."

Wise, momentarily stunned and turning to face them, cheeks flushing: "Oh, uh, thanks! You... you look great too."

Overthinking: Wise often overanalyzes his interactions with his crush, replaying conversations in his mind and wondering what they meant by certain comments. He can get caught in a loop of second-guessing himself.

Crush gives Wise a compliment.

Crush: "You always have the best ideas!"

Later, Wise confides in Belle: "Do you think they meant that? Or were they just being nice? Maybe I read too much into it..."

Subtle Compliments: He praises his crush's intelligence, sense of humor, or unique qualities, always in a subtle, genuine way.

Crush: "I'm not sure if I can pull this off."

Wise, sincerely: "You always surprise me with how capable you are. I believe in you."

Protective Streak: Wise becomes more protective of his crush, always looking out for their safety and well-being.

Crush: "I'm thinking of going into the Hollow alone."

Wise, concerned: "Alone? No way. It's too dangerous. Let me come with you."

Daydreaming: Wise often finds himself daydreaming about spending time with his crush. He imagines different scenarios, from fun outings to quiet, intimate moments.

Wise is sitting at the counter, staring out the window with a distant look in his eyes. He’s imagining a cozy afternoon at home, snuggled up on the bed with his crush. They’re wrapped in a warm blanket, watching a movie together, with his crush resting their head on his chest.

Belle, waving a hand in front of his face: "Hello, Earth to Wise!"

Wise, snapping out of it and shaking his head slightly: "Oh, sorry! Just...thinking about something."

Nervous Laughter: Wise tends to laugh nervously when he's flustered, trying to cover up his feelings with humor.

Crush, noticing Wise's slightly tense posture: "You seem nervous. Everything okay?"

Wise, laughing nervously while rubbing the back of his neck: "Me? Nervous? Nah, just, uh, excited, I guess."

Crush, raising an eyebrow playfully: "Excited, huh? About what?"

Wise, still chuckling awkwardly as his cheeks flush: "Oh, you know... just the usual stuff. Nothing major."

Confiding in Belle: He secretly confides in Belle about his feelings, seeking advice but often regretting it when she teases him.

Wise talks to Belle about his crush.

Wise: "I can't stop thinking about them. What if they don't feel the same?"

Belle, teasing: "You? Overthinking? Never. Just be yourself, Wise. They already seem to like you."

Subtle Flirting: Wise tries to flirt subtly, using clever wordplay and teasing remarks, hoping to gauge his crush's reaction.

Crush, looking around the carefully set-up room: "Did you really plan all this?"

Wise, with a soft smile and a hint of teasing in his voice: "Maybe. I had to impress you somehow, right?"

Crush, smiling warmly: "Oh, I'm definitely impressed. I didn't know you had such a sweet side."

Wise, chuckling gently: "Well, I guess you bring out the best in me." He looks at them with genuine affection, his eyes warm. "Besides, I think you're worth the effort."

[suguae]

'cause it was always you..

જpairings. G. Satoru x F. Reader

“I do ballet, I’m a ballerina.” 

Satoru smiled in amusement. "I honestly would've never thought," he said, his tone light and teasing. "It's like I learn more about you each day." He chuckled as your face turned red. 

"Do you have any performances coming up soon? I would love to see you dance in person." His tall body hovered over you, his head tilting as he waited for your answer."Y—yeah, um, in two weeks, I think." You scratched your head slightly, trying to remember.

He chuckled once more before playfully rubbing your head. "Cute," he mumbled, his smile lingering on his face. "Let me know the time and date. I'll see you around."

"I cannot tell you how important it is that you must focus, y/n," Your instructor muttered. "This is a very complex piece. Don't make me regret choosing you for this important role." 

Her words felt like a slap to the face. "Yes, ma'am," you muttered before getting back into position. As the music started playing, you moved gracefully. With every move, her face showed satisfaction, but you knew she wanted more than just satisfaction.

"That's your lunch?" Satoru asked, his eyebrows lifting as he examined the small portion of salad and a bottle of water sitting in front of you. His gaze shifted to meet yours, his blue eyes curious and concerned. "Oh, hi Satoru..." you mumbled nervously, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks as he took a seat right in front of you.

"Here, we can share my lunch," he offered with a warm smile, reaching into his bag to pull out a beautifully crafted bento box filled with an array of tempting dishes.

Your stomach grumbled at the sight and aroma of the food, but you shook your head slightly. "Oh, it's no worries. I have to be on a strict diet for this upcoming performance," you replied, forcing a smile despite the longing in your eyes for a taste of his lunch.

Satoru looked around before flashing a mischievous smile. "Well, who's gonna know?" he whispered, his tone playful and conspiratorial.

"Oh, believe me, she'll find out one way or another," you replied awkwardly, chuckling nervously. He playfully rolled his eyes at your response. "Anyway, are you busy tonight?" he asked, changing the subject smoothly.

You nodded in confirmation. "I have rehearsals," 

He leaned in slightly, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "From what time?" he inquired softly, his tone laced with curiosity.

You looked up, unaware of his intention, and replied, "From 3 to 9..." Confusion tinged your voice as you tried to decipher the meaning behind his question.

"You're overworking yourself for this piece, huh?" Satoru remarked, his voice gentle with concern. "You need to be careful; I don't want you hurting yourself." He leaned back slightly, throwing you a reassuring smile. You couldn't help but blush at the thought of his genuine concern and care for you. It warmed your heart to know that he was looking out for you.

"But after, we should watch a movie at the cinema. I know it'll be late but..." He trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging in the air. "Yeah, um... I mean, yeah, if you want," you quickly replied, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect of spending more time with him outside of school.

Just the other day, you two had started talking, and you were still surprised when he first came up to you. His dazzling blue eyes charmed you in an instant, but even before that, you had always watched him from a distance. Never would you have expected this turn of events, where you were not just talking, but making plans to spend time together outside of your usual interactions.

"Perfect," he whispered softly, watching you silently enjoy your sad meal. "After your recital, we are gonna go out and eat so much food," he partially joked, his tone light but sincere. "Because I know you deserve it, because you're gonna do amazing," he reassured you, his words causing your cheeks to flush with warmth at his confession.

"Better, I love the improvement. Keep your moves sharp yet graceful," she instructed as you danced with your partner. Her words spurred you on, pushing you to embody the precise balance between sharpness and grace in your movements.

"And more emotion!" she yelled, her eyes fixed on you like a fox with its prey. Her demand for greater emotional expression pushed you to delve deeper into the performance, infusing each movement with raw emotion.

After hours of rehearsing, you found yourself standing a little under her gaze. "Not only is this performance important to the school, but to you as well," she remarked, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. "You've improved, but you have got to show more emotion," she sighed, her words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I thought you were gonna ditch on me," Satoru said, smiling as you met him in the cinema."I would never do that," you replied with a smile, playfully poking his arm. 

"Did I forget to mention, it's a scary movie," Satoru chuckled, noticing the quick head turn as you gulped in fear. "Relax, you can always hold onto me whenever you get scared," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes as he offered you comfort in the face of the impending fright.

"N-no, I can handle it," you said, trying to sound brave, but your face betrayed the exact opposite. Despite your attempt to mask your fear, Satoru could see right through it, his smile softening. 

"Let's go, or we'll miss the beginning," Satoru suggested, his hands softly holding onto yours, catching you by surprise. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and you followed him into the theater,

There you sat, side by side with the boy you've always had eyes for. His perfect face watching the gory movie with a smile on his face, seemingly unfazed by the horror unfolding on the screen. But rather than watching the movie, you found yourself watching him, mesmerized by the way his features softened with amusement.

Your heart pounded intensely in your chest as you stole glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away. When you looked down, you realized your hands were still interlocked, his warm touch sending shivers down your spine. In that moment, the fear of the movie was overshadowed by the thrill of being so close to him. 

His head turned as he met your gaze, and you quickly turned away in embarrassment, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You could hear his soft chuckle, the sound sending a flutter of nerves through you.

His hand unlocked from yours, and he brought it up to your cheek, gently turning your face to look at him. Your faces were mere centimeters apart now, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as your heart raced.

"Kiss me," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips as he leaned in even closer. And there you were, lost in a mini makeout session. His lips were like cherries—sweet and red—as they moved against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

He smiled as you two stood outside the cinema, the evening breeze cooling your flushed cheeks. "I like you, y/n," he confessed softly, his words sending a warm thrill through you.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, placing one last peck on your lips, the gentle touch lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "And I had a lot of fun tonight," he added with a grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine joy.

"M-me too," you stammered, feeling a rush of gratitude and nervousness flood through you. "Thank you for tonight." You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for the unexpected turn of events and the wonderful memories you had created together.

Despite the magical night you shared at the cinema, the next day at school feels like a stark contrast. Satoru's sudden avoidance leaves you bewildered and hurt. Every time you pass by him in the school halls, he seems to purposely avert his gaze, as if trying to pretend you don't exist.

At first, you wonder if it's just a misunderstanding, if perhaps he's dealing with something personal or caught up in his own thoughts. But as the days go by and his behavior remains unchanged, doubts begin to gnaw at you.

As you walked past an empty classroom, you overheard snippets of conversation that made your heart sink. "That was gonna be easier than I thought,'' one of Satoru's friends joked, followed by another chiming in, "Yeah, no kidding, she waited no time."

You stopped in your tracks, feeling a mix of confusion and hurt wash over you as you realized they were talking about you. Satoru's smile at their words only added to the sting, and you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal creeping in.

Was it all just a game to him? A bet or a dare among friends? The realization left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you couldn't help but feel foolish for believing in something that was never real to begin with.

Relief washed over you as your instructor clapped, praising your performance. "That's perfect, y/n!" she exclaimed, pausing the music. "You've been doing well; the portrayal of the emotion is just right."

As her words soothed you, you couldn't help but feel the weight of built-up frustration from the events with Satoru earlier. The emotion you poured into your performance wasn't just about portraying the story—it was also a release valve for the pent-up feelings swirling inside you.

With each movement, you channeled your anger, hurt, and confusion, allowing them to fuel your dance with a raw intensity that left you feeling both drained and empowered. 

There you were again, watching Satoru from a distance as he laughed playfully with his friends. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you reluctantly tore your gaze away from him, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. You rested your head on the cold wooden desk, closing your eyes as you tried to push aside the thoughts and emotions swirling inside you. It was a familiar routine now—watching him from afar, longing for something that seemed increasingly out of reach.

"I think she's cute though," one of Satoru's friends remarked, prompting Satoru to turn his attention towards you. "Knowing how easy she was, I might just go after her now," they laughed.

But Satoru's reaction was immediate. His brows furrowed in disapproval as he quickly intervened. "Don't," he stated firmly, his eyes shifting to you, where you lay your head down on the desk. 

His eyes lingered on you longer than he intended, the soft glow of the sun casting a graceful halo around you. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, a pang of longing mixed with regret washing over him. He knew he liked you—perhaps even more than he cared to admit—so why did he still go along with this stupid dare from his friends?

As he watched you, lost in your own world, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying something precious between the two of you. The laughter of his friends echoed in his mind, but in that moment, all he wanted was to bridge the distance that had grown between you and make things right.

The night of the recital was excruciating and nerve-wracking. Every step you took felt heavy with anticipation, the weight of months of preparation bearing down on your shoulders. As you stood backstage, the murmur of the audience filtering through the curtain only heightened your anxiety.

Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst from your ribcage as you waited for your cue. The stage lights glared brightly, casting harsh shadows against the darkness backstage. Your palms were slick with sweat, and you fought to control the trembling in your limbs.

Despite the hours of practice and the reassurances from your instructor, doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind. What if you forgot a step? What if you stumbled and fell? The fear of failure loomed large, threatening to consume you whole.

You took a peek out onto the stage, your eyes instantly drawn to the sea of faces in the audience. But amidst the sea of strangers, your gaze quickly found solace in the familiar sight of your parents and your two younger sisters. They were seated near the front, their faces glowing with pride and anticipation. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. 

As your cue arrived, you shook off all your fears and made your way onto the stage, each step filled with perfect grace. Your movements flowed seamlessly, every emotion conveyed with precision and depth. But then, as your eyes shifted to the crowd, you saw him—Satoru—standing there with flowers in his hand.

A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over you, and all you wanted to do was run away as far as possible from him. Tears welled up in your eyes, betraying the facade of composure you had worked so hard to maintain. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on your shoulders, threatening to crush you beneath its burden.

Many in the audience seemed to notice your distress, including Satoru himself. His brow furrowed in concern as he watched you, his earlier jovial demeanor replaced with a look of genuine worry.

Meanwhile, your instructor watched proudly from the wings, unaware of the turmoil raging inside you. To her, your performance was flawless, your portrayal of emotion transcendent. Little did she know, the tears streaming down your face were not just part of the act—they were the raw, unfiltered expression of a heart torn between love and pain.

As the performance came to an end, you and your fellow dancers bowed to the audience as the curtains closed, the applause ringing in your ears like a symphony of triumph. But amidst the fading echoes, your eyes remained glued to Satoru's figure in the crowd.

There he stood, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. It was as if time stood still in that moment, the world around you fading into the background as you locked eyes with him.

"After that, so many dance schools are gonna be giving you offers like there's no tomorrow," your mom says, her voice filled with pride as you all walked out of the theater, caught up in the whirlwind of congratulatory remarks and well-wishes.

But then, as if out of nowhere, your eyes met Satoru's. There he stood by his car, flowers in hand, a silent testament to the emotions that lingered between you. For a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning as you took in the sight of him, the memories of your shared moments flooding back with a bittersweet intensity.

"I'll meet with you guys later," you say, tearing your gaze away from your parents, who had been just as surprised as you to see Satoru. They exchanged a smile before walking away, leaving you alone with him.

As you approached him, a whirlwind of emotions swirled inside you, uncertainty mingling with hope. You couldn't help but wonder what he had to say, what his presence meant after all that had transpired between you

"Y/n..." He started, his voice tentative as he searched for the right words.

"I really liked you, Satoru," you say, interrupting him, your voice soft but steady as you walk closer to him. "I've liked you for longer than you can even imagine."

His expression softens, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes as he meets your gaze. "Was it worth it? The validation of your friends?" you ask, the words heavy with emotion.

For a moment, there's silence between you, the weight of the question hanging in the air. Then, with a sigh, Satoru reaches out to gently take your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"No," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Without any hesitation, you embraced him in a tight hug, tears streaming down your face as you allowed yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building inside you. Satoru felt his heart grow heavy as he returned the embrace, holding you close as he whispered soothing words of comfort. "None of it was worth it, y/n," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "Everything I said to you was true."

"Then why? Why did you leave?" Your muffled voice said as your face was stuffed into his chest, the words tumbling out between sobs.

"Because I was being dumb, but please let me make it up to you," he whispered, his voice filled with regret and sincerity.

In that moment, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, replaced by a flicker of hope. Despite the pain of the past, you couldn't deny the longing in your heart for a second chance, for the possibility of rebuilding what had been broken.

With a shaky breath, you pulled away slightly, meeting his gaze with tear-stained eyes. "I want to believe you," you say, your voice wavering with uncertainty. "But you have to prove it to me."

He pulled away from the hug, placing the beautiful roses gently in your hand. Then, in a bold move that caught you off guard, he got down on his knees, despite the crowd still bustling around you.

"Y/n L/n," he began, his voice ringing out clear and unwavering, "I have loved you ever since the day I laid eyes on you. So please, just please give me another chance."

Your face flushed red from crying and embarrassment as you realized the extent of Satoru's devotion, his declaration of love unfolding in front of a crowd of onlookers. But despite the eyes watching, all you could focus on was the sincerity in his words and the depth of emotion shining in his eyes.

"G-get up," you say, your voice wavering as you watch the people around you smile at the heartfelt scene unfolding before them. But Satoru remains steadfast, his eyes never leaving yours as he stays on his knees. "No! I will wait here until I know you will give me another chance to prove myself, because I love you," he declares.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips despite the tears still glistening in your eyes. "Yes, I will give you another chance," you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and forgiveness. "Now, get up."

With a relieved smile, Satoru rises to his feet, his eyes shining with gratitude and love as he pulls you into a tight embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the murmurs of the crowd and the gentle rustle of the breeze, you knew that together, you could overcome anything that life threw your way.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips before resting his head in the crook of your neck. "I really do love you, and I will do anything to prove that to you," he murmured, his words filled with sincerity and determination.

Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of your eyes as you held him tight, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a comforting cocoon. "I love you too, Satoru," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but filled with all the love and affection in your heart.

"Now how about we go eat any and everything in our sight? You more than deserved it today," Satoru says, cupping your cheeks gently with his hands.

A smile spreads across your face at his suggestion, feeling a warmth radiate from deep within as you gaze into his eyes. "That sounds perfect," you reply, your voice filled with gratitude and excitement.