#then i guess i did understand the next bit (‘is always to be here’) so idk why it made sense to me. well it just didn’t i suppose but i
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beatledumpster · 2 years ago
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Paul loves enjambments
Enjambment is the continuation of a sentence or clause across a line break. For example, the poet John Donne uses enjambment in his poem "The Good-Morrow" when he continues the opening sentence across the line break between the first and second lines: "I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I / Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?"
These are the examples that I could think of right now of Paul hopping across lines (well, if you agree with where the cuts are placed, as lines in a song can be written in several ways, and if you agree that the breaks in syntax are unusual enough to be considered poetic/interesting enjambments) :
...
I've just seen a face I can't forget The time or place where we just met
...
I was alone, I took a ride I didn't know what I would find there Another road where maybe I Could see another kind of mind there
... Ooh, you were meant to be near me Ooh, and I want you to hear me Say we'll be together every day
...
And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong, I'm right Where I belong, I'm right Where I belong
...
There beneath the blue suburban skies I sit and meanwhile back In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
...
And when the broken hearted People living in the world agree There will be an answer Let it be
...
Mull of Kintyre Oh, mist rolling in from The sea, my desire Is always to be here Oh, Mull of Kintyre
Feel free to add more if you can recall any!
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madame-fear · 3 months ago
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Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)
𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.
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ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.
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After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.
A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.
There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.
Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.
Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.
The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.
Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.
Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.
Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.
Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.
But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.
All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.
Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.
Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.
It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.
The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.
The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.
Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.
Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.
Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...
... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?
You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.
The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.
At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.
A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.
The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”
The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.
But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.
You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.
Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.
It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.
“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.
You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.
Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”
The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.
You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.
It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.
“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.
“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.
You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.
“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.
The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”
Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”
“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.
Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.
“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”
A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.
“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?
You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.
Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.
His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”
“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.
For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.
What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.
“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”
The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.
The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.
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wonderjanga · 9 days ago
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Where Have you Been?
This is inspired by this post.
Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.
Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.
Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”
Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)
Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”
Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.
Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)
Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)
Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*
Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.
Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”
College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”
Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”
College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”
Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*
College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*
Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”
College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”
Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”
College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*
Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”
College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*
Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”
College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*
Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”
College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)
Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*
College Student: “Wait, come back!”
As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.
Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.
Marvel: *answers his comm*
Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”
Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”
Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”
Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.
Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.
By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.
Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”
Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”
Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”
Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*
Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.
Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”
That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.
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chuulyssa · 2 months ago
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a/n: idk what this is, just me trying to numb the pain of ace's death. this is based loosely on the hc that reader and luffy got "married" when they were seven. it's not a full-fledged fanfic tho, just a drabble. i'll post later, i'm just trying to get used to writing post-war arc atm
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𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — luffy is very shaken up after the events of marineford. you must help him, as his 'wife'
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — luffy x reader ft. law, jinbei and simp!boa
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"How long are you going to keep visiting him?" The voice of Jinbei woke you from your trance. You had once again snuck into the room Luffy was kept in despite constant warnings from Law and your own injuries.
You turned to find Jinbei standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a concerned expression on his face. His large frame seemed to fill the space, weary eyes trailing down your wounds.
"As long as it takes," you said simply.
Jinbei stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You also need to take care of yourself. You can't pour from an empty cup, you know."
You glanced back at Luffy, who lay there, still unconscious. The monitor next to him was beeping steadily, albeit a little roughly. He was covered in bandages from head to toe, and his eyes were shut and eyebrows knitted together as if he was dealing with a terrible nightmare. But then again, the past few hours had been nothing but nightmares, and the hours before that even more so. Luffy had been suffering ever since he stepped foot in Sabaody, and it showed in his current state.
"This is the least I can do," you looked down at your hands, then back at Luffy's face. Your fingers reached out to brush the stray strands of his hair away from his face involuntarily, and you adjusted your position on the bed. He always liked to cuddle with you.
"And what of your own injuries?" Jinbei asked gently. "What if you push yourself too hard?"
"If my Captain is fine, so am I," you insisted. "More than that," you lay your head next to his, your feet reaching out to his to rub together with them softly, "I don't want him to wake up alone. Not after... well, you get it."
Jinbei sighed, shaking his head slightly, but there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Luffy-kun wouldn't want you to sacrifice your well-being for him."
"I'll come out in some time. Let me be here for now, for my own sake."
Jinbei nodded, opening the door for himself. "Very well, then."
The beeping of the monitor grounded you to the bed. Luffy needed you. You couldn't abandon him then, not when he was trapped in the darkness of his own mind.
After some time had passed, you finally decided to step outside the room. You spotted Law sitting near the forest outside of the ship. There was a sort of distant look in his eyes. He seemed lost in his thoughts, but you couldn't see what he was looking at.
"Trafalgar D. Water Law," you approached him slowly, and his gaze shifted towards you. "Can we talk?"
He turned to you, a mixture of surprise and wariness in his expression. "Y/N-ya. You shouldn’t be out here. What if you overexert yourself?"
"I'm completely fine, doctor," you smiled lightly, a gesture he returned, albeit it seemed a bit forced because of the overall tired look he carried on his face. "You didn't answer my question."
"Of course," he replied, gesturing towards an empty place next to him.
You nodded gratefully, sitting down beside him. "Thank you," you said. "What I wanted to ask was, why did you, our rival, risk everything you had to save Luffy?"
Law’s gaze flickered to the sea, contemplating your question. "I thought I made it clear then. I wouldn't want a rival to die so soon."
"What's your motive?" You pressed.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, to say the truth, we're pirates. I assume you can guess why."
Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed from inside the ship, jolting both of you from the moment. Jinbei’s eyes widened, and he was off like a shot, heading back inside.
"A Navy attack?" You muttered, rushing after him, Law following your lead close behind.
As you reached the door to Luffy’s room, you saw debris scattered across the floor, splintered wood and twisted metal. Then, without warning, Luffy shot out of the room like a cannonball, bursting through the remnants of the door frame. He landed hard on the ground beside the deck, breathing heavily, eyes wild with a mix of confusion and rage.
Immediately, the three of you ran out to him. Law had said time and again that the slightest movement might cause his wounds to open up, and he may not survive. But to think that after what he had gone through, Luffy would be able to sit quietly in one place was foolish.
"Y/N!" Luffy’s voice rang out, raw and desperate. He looked around as if the entire world was closing in on him, a battle present only behind the closed doors of his mind. "I need to get out! I can't— stay here!"
But he didn’t seem to see or hear you. His breaths were coming out in frantic bursts. He was in a full-blown panic, eyes darting around as if he was still trapped in the chaos of Marineford. Jinbei and Law quickly approached to stop his antics.
Luffy didn't respond when Jinbei shouted at him. He didn't respond when his arms and feet were tugged at. He didn't respond when the Heart Pirates attempted to drag him back to stop his rampage. With one last look at you, he made his way into the enclosed forest, splitting trees from their roots in a hurry to get away from prying eyes.
The forest echoed with the sound of splintering wood as Luffy rampaged through the trees. Branches cracked and fell as he punched wildly wherever his heart told him to.
"Luffy-kun!" Jinbei called.
But Luffy didn’t hear him. He continued to lash out, tearing roots from the ground as if he could uproot the pain inside him. You stood at the edge of the chaos, heart racing as you watched your captain spiral further into darkness. "Luffy," you said quietly, voice and sound numbed from the tears that clouded your vision. "That's enough."
Luffy paused, muscles tense and trembling, before his eyes finally locked onto Jinbei’s. "Is it true?" his voice broke. "Did Ace really die?"
Jinbei nodded slowly and sorrowfully. "Yes, Ace is dead."
The world around you seemed to freeze as the realization hit Luffy like a tidal wave. His face contorted with agony, and a heart-wrenching cry burst forth from his lips. "ACE!" The sound reverberated through the trees like a haunting echo.
His frantic energy seemed to dissipate, and he turned to you. His cheeks were wet with all the tears he shed, and his eyes were glistening with more. He stumbled toward you, collapsing to his knees before you.
Without hesitation, he engulfed you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. The world around you faded away as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could. "I can't lose you too!" he sobbed, voice muffled against your skin. "Not like Ace!"
You shook your head. "I'm not going anywhere without you."
"Ace said the same thing!" He buried his face into your chest and began crying once more, and you only tightened your hold on him. You kissed the top of his head, and his frantic movements seemed to rest.
Sometime later, the Heart Pirates left with the arrival of Rayleigh, and Jinbei engaged in a conversation with the latter. But then the air shifted again, this time charged with a different kind of energy. Boa Hancock emerged, striding into the clearing with a confidence that instantly commanded attention. Her long hair flowed behind her like a dark cloud, and a massive spread of food was arranged delicately in a large cart before her.
"I have returned with food for you, my h-hus-husband," she stuttered when she made eye contact with Luffy, and an old woman beside her sighed in apparent defeat.
"You can't even make eye contact with him, and you call him your husband," she said, to which Hancock simply glared.
You raised an eyebrow at Luffy. "I didn't realize you married her. Is this the second wife then?"
"Second... wife?" Hancock's knees seemed to give out, and with a hand on her chest, she landed on the ground, seemingly in agony.
"I feel bad for you," you said teasingly.
Hancock shot you a glare, but it lacked the venom you expected. "This is no joke! Luffy needs to eat!" Her tone was sharp, though her focus remained solely on Luffy.
Jinbei chuckled from where he stood, his hands raised defensively as he caught sight of the feast Hancock had brought. "There's no need to scold me for eating. I'm merely replenishing my strength."
"Just a little! You always eat too much!" Hancock scolded, quickly handing him a single piece of fruit, then ignoring you entirely as she focused her attention back on Luffy.
"You should eat, Luffy," Jinbei said loudly, glancing at Hancock. "Eating is living!"
Luffy placed a shaking hand on a piece of meat, then began to put it in his mouth, when, suddenly, he stopped, and glanced at you with concern.
"Why aren't you eating, Y/n?" He asked.
Before you could respond, Hancock seemed to relent, her eyes darting between the two of you. "Fine! You, over there," she pointed at you with her face in the sky, as if looking down at you. "You can have a bite. Just one, though!”
Luffy grinned widely, grabbed the piece of meat from Hancock's collection and turned to you. He shoved the food into your mouth, laughing as he watched your eyes widen in shock. "Eat up! You need to get better!"
Hancock's expression turned to one of horror as she realized what was happening. "No! Luffy, don't—" she started, but it was too late.
You swallowed quickly, glancing at Hancock, who looked torn between irritation and disbelief. Luffy simply beamed. "My first bite goes to you! I can't let you starve." He took another piece and offered it to you.
With a chuckle, you took a bite from his hand. Hancock sighed, her annoyance softening only when she saw how much Luffy seemed to enjoy this moment. "Don't get too used to it, you. I'll be the one taking care of him."
You smiled at her, and her irritation seemed to peak. Glancing at Luffy, who was still intent on feeding you, you said to her, "I think he has already made his choice clear."
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lurochar · 4 months ago
Text
Before It All (Pt. 3)
Warnings: Obsessive Alastor
Part 1 + Part 2
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It really was you.
His nameless Doe.
You seemed tense, clearly uneasy by the static he emitted and his presence alone by the looks of your erect ears and puffed fur of your tail.
(How cute, you had your clothes altered for your tail. A shame he hadn’t noticed it back when he had summoned you).
Alastor was now used to fellow demons being unnerved and frightened in his presence and so they should be, but you – there was no reason for you to be so anxious in his company, though he supposed he could understand it somewhat.
The power dynamics were completely turned around.
You had no advantage over him, he wasn’t that weak human anymore.
But still, Alastor didn’t like the fact you were so wary of him, so he needed to lighten the mood, break the tense atmosphere, and there was no better way than reminding you of your encounter with him when he was the weaker one, when you had the power over him, was there?
“How I’ve missed your wonderful ears, my nameless Doe.”
Alastor always did find your ears fascinating.
He may have his own pair of deer ears now and they had their uses – his auditory senses were vastly superior when compared to his human self, so much so, it took a week or two for him to adjust to sensory overload. They also gave any would-be attackers a false sense of security, he was just a deer demon, so he had to be weak.
Ripping those sorts to shreds felt much more satisfying.
But his ears were so damn sensitive to touch that Alastor had no idea how you didn’t just melt into a trembling mess when you allowed him to stroke your ears all those years ago.
He needed to move on from these thoughts before–
You blinked at his odd greeting, your body relaxing slightly from its earlier tensed position that had been poised to flee at any given second.
You blinked again.
And then you let out a loud yelp of surprise, springing forward when you felt icy cold hands playfully tug on your ears from behind. 
–before his shadow acted upon them.
You reeled around to see what had touched you, not expecting to see a grin right up in your face and you stumbled back a bit, happy enough that you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of the Radio Demon/Alastor by letting out some sort of pitiful sound like a scream or shriek.
“I do hope you can excuse my shadow’s behaviour. The poor thing can hardly contain itself, seeing it is a reflection of me.” Alastor gestured the shadow away, which it did after giving you a last glance before it vanished. “Well then, should we do now what we should have done twenty-four years ago?”
You’re unsure what he is talking about.
“Introductions, my nameless Doe! Unless you prefer that name over your real one.” Alastor bows in a flashy way. “Alastor Hartfelt! But you already knew that, correct?” He stood up straight and eyed you expectantly.
“It’s nothing special, it’s just Y/N.” You shrug before eyeing Alastor intently and you hope you don’t get killed or worse for your question. “You just seemed like a miserable boy brought up in a miserable situation, so I gave you a pass. I thought if I got rid of your main problem, maybe you could live the rest of your life normally. You didn’t even make it to forty. What happened?”
Alastor hummed. “It would turn out that my father was only a drop in the bucket. After that wretch was gone from our lives, my Mama instilled in me the importance and value of women. Women are not second-class citizens nor are they property, but this way of thinking was uncommon and misogyny was everywhere.”
You think you can guess where this is heading to…
“I killed men, men like my father. Men who see no problem in beating their wife. Degenerates that stalked the alleyways for their next rape victim. For over a decade, I was the ‘Bayou Butcher’. It’s only due to the incompetence of a hunter that I am here now.” The expression on his face was that of delight. “I have no remorse. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.”
Oh.
It’s… it’s not what you wanted for Alastor, but you remembered that sheer hatred in his eyes. Something that deeply rooted wasn’t so easily erased, even if the main cause was taken out of the situation.
Unfortunately, you were not wrong in guessing Alastor would eventually condemn himself to Hell.
Fortunately, you had held onto Hartfelt for the past twenty some years.
You do have another question, but you know better than to ask.
Some demons don't care, but some demons can get quite offended if asked about their appearance and why they ended up looking the way they do. It’s personal, tied to their sins in life and their manner of death.
Asking Alastor why he ended up as a deer demon, a prey-based demon, could get you killed or maybe worse.
“I was mistaken for a deer by an inept hunter who took a shot before bothering to confirm what he was shooting at.” Alastor answers easily and casually, as if reading your mind and knowing what you want to ask. “Do not be afraid to ask me anything, my lovely Doe. I assume you heard my message on one of my broadcasts, yes? I meant every word of what I said.”
Lovely Doe?
‘I told him my name…’ You decided it didn’t matter too much as it wasn’t demeaning or degrading. You’ve been called much, much worse and on a regular basis by Hartfelt, so hearing an affectionate(?) nickname was a bit of refreshing change–
Should you be thinking that way?
Your ears dropped.
“Listen, Alastor,” you noticed his eyes seemed to glow brighter from you simply saying his name, “I messed up that day. I… I shouldn’t have touched you, let alone hug you. There are countless reasons why most demons don’t have free access to the human world. Contact with demons tends to screw humans up. Even just one night with a Succubus or an Incubus can fuck up humans for months and they’re low-class demons.”
Alastor simply tilted his head.
“I’m mid-class and… and I should have known better.” You sighed. “I think I messed you up in some way by touching you and letting you touch me.”
You were taken back when Alastor started to laugh and your ears flattened completely, slightly bothered by his reaction to your words.
Did you say something amusing?
“Oh dear me, you have twisted it all around in your worrisome mind, haven’t you?” Alastor chuckled. “So you have yet to realize you saved me and my Mama from that piece of scum I had to call ‘father’? My life even? Had you not killed that man for me, I would have made a clumsy attempt to murder that man, whether I succeeded or not. Such a thing would have cost me my life much earlier. I would not have been able to pursue my career and take good care of my Mama until her final days.”
You flustered, not sure what to say back.
“I lived my life the way I wished to because you freed me from that man. I am here in Hell purely of my own actions, though perhaps a little earlier than expected. You are very much downplaying what you are to me and I cannot say I care much for it.” Alastor couldn’t help the loudening crackle of his static.
“...okay…”
“Pardon?” Alastor’s ears twitched at the mumble of your voice, though he heard you just fine. He wanted you to clarify what ‘okay’ meant and look him in the eyes as you did so. He wouldn’t trap you in a contract like the fools whose souls he owned, but with his guaranteed protection for nothing more than just staying at his side and within his sight, how could you refuse?
(Though, if you wanted to give him your soul, he certainly wouldn’t turn it down).
“Okay! Maybe I didn’t fuck you up! Maybe you were… a little ‘different’ from the start!” You weren’t sure how to say ‘psychopathic’ in a nice way. “I still felt guilty about it this entire time. I hoped differently, but I knew you would probably end up in Hell.” You admitted, huffing when Alastor let out another chuckle. “So I did something to try to make up for it in case I did mess with your mind somehow.”
“Hmm, and what is that, my lovely Doe?” Alastor’s smile seemed to widen and it may be hidden from view, his tail wagged in excitement. “You thought of me, even before I landed myself in Hell? I must say, I’m quite flattered!”
“I looked for him as soon as I got back from the human world and found him before he understood how… things worked around here.” You didn’t feel bad in the least. “So I tricked him into making a deal with me. Shelter, food, simple basics for his soul. He didn’t seem used to living on the streets, so he took it right away. He didn’t understand what it actually meant to give your soul away.”
“Well done! What a delightful little tidbit! I had no idea if you would be interested in the art of deal-making. I would be more than happy to guide you. Why, I already own a great number of souls myself.” Alastor’s smile turned a little more sinister and he felt his blood heat at the thought of watching you trick some desperate fool into giving you their soul.
He would slaughter an entire district just to see that.
“I’ve… never really thought about it? I just do what I can to get by. Prey and livestock-based demons don’t have it easy in Hell.” You were sought out for your meat after all. “Anyway, I thought I’d make it up to you by – well, that demon whose soul I own is your father’s.”
The static around Alastor went completely silent.
You swallowed thickly, suddenly nervous. “I, uh, I always intended on giving you ownership of his soul whenever you ended up here, if you ended up in Hell. You can do anything you want to him, I have no intention of interfering if you… wanted to broadcast his torment or something.”
Shit, why was Alastor staring at you like that?
Was it the wrong choice? Did he want nothing to do with his father?
“W-WAH!” It was the most pitiful fucking noise you could probably make, worse than that earlier yelp when Alastor seemed to melt into the floor through a void of shadows and then reappear right in your personal space before you comprehended what happened. That was not the reason you let out a damn bleat before you could help it, though.
Alastor was stroking your ears just as he had done twenty-four years prior.
“A gift from you is always welcome, but this – I never imagined one that would bring me such… joy. Truly, you were always meant for me, my lovely Doe.”
“S-so, I take it you want ownership of his soul?” You struggled to get the words out, feeling your vision blur for a moment. You let out a breath of relief when Alastor reluctantly released your ears, but he didn’t step away from your personal space.
“Yes. I’m more than willing to give you a soul – ten even, in return. Mama may disapprove of it, but I will pay back a thousandfold and more for what that man put her through. He will suffer the worst torture I can possibly think of.” To your amazement, Alastor’s pupils spun into a shape that resembled radio dials before returning to normal.
“It’s a gift. You don’t need to give me anything back in return.” You blinked in surprise when Alastor poked your cheek, pinching it playfully before tutting at you. “What was that?!”
“You have been here longer than me, but it seems I must teach you a few good lessons.” Alastor held out his hand invitingly. “Before this transaction, would you like a tour of my radio tower?”
You placed your hand in his. “You’re going to have to explain it like you would to a child how this radio stuff actually works. I can turn my radio on and change the station, that’s about it.”
Alastor felt that chill that followed him all his life leave him and his smile felt genuine for very few times that it was as he felt your hand wrap around his.
He may be dead and in Hell, but his (after)life was looking rather bright – he still could enjoy his passion for radio and he no longer had to hide his true sadistic nature and homicidal thoughts. Better yet, he could combine the two and broadcast tortured screams for denizens of Hell to hear!
He was powerful and feared, toppling Overlords to become himself in an extremely short period of time and he owned multiple souls to do his bidding whenever and whatever he wanted – and soon, he could add his miserable wretch of a father to his collection to torment all he likes.
Best of all, he finally found you, the demon who made this all possible for him and now that he had you in his grasp, there was no conceivable way he would ever let you elude him. He could certainly give you the illusion of freedom and space if that’s what you wanted.
He was charming, he knew that, it’s all he needed to win you over.
Perhaps it would take a little time and patience, but he would get what he wanted in the end like he always did.
His lovely Doe. His new wife.
It was a dream that Alastor was going to turn into his reality.
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I hope this ending was satisfying
Tags: @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @godsent69 @eris-norwega @catticora @tayraedoll @michi-keinz @martinys-world @n0tmentallystable @xalygatorx @everwolf-20 @yui-onnero
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the-oblivious-writer · 11 months ago
Text
Get Her Back!
Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Athena!Reader
One-shot
Summary: You and Clarisse have always had a reputation for the rollercoaster you both called your relationship. While on another one of your "breaks," you decide you want to mess with her
Warning(s): Swearing, Clarisse & r are hella toxic, jealousy (on both ends but mostly jealous!Clarisse), making out (nothing more is hinted at, just Clarisse & r kissing like the problematic girlfriends they are), & arguing
Notes: Wooo this one got a bit heated before I knew it. Hope you enjoy
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You and Clarisse La Rue… how does one sum up your relationship with the Ares kid? You and her were known for being on and off, arguing almost as much as you made out. You were both in a toxic, heated, yet passionate, relationship. 
Oh, how you loved each other. 
You met Clarisse the first summer you got to camp. It didn’t take long for you to discover what you had gotten yourself into. She argued with you about everything, she had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye; you couldn’t help but be attracted to her, even when she was so obviously lying about her height. 
The first time you left Clarisse was in the spring, that was when your current dynamic truly started. You lasted about a week before you were back in her arms, forgetting how you threw all her stolen clothes out your cabin’s window just a few nights before. 
You were currently going through another one of your breaks with Clarisse while you laid down on your bed, reading as you tried to ignore another little lecture from your friend. 
“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you stay with her, you know? The second my boyfriend did me wrong, I kicked his ass out the door. For good,” he said, sitting at the end of your bed.
“That’s because you didn’t have what me and Clarisse have,” you responded, looking up at him from your book. He shrugged, mumbling, “Whatever.” 
“Do you love or hate her? I honestly can’t tell anymore. One second, she’s the worst human being to ever exist but then the next, she’s the love of your life, the woman you’re gonna marry.”
“I guess it’s up and down,” you replied in a nonchalant tone before looking back at your book.
He lightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he said, “I need to learn when to give up trying to figure you out.”
Later that night was the bonfire. You didn’t really feel like attending but your friend had basically begged you to go. Just five minutes in, and he was already flirting with a girl from cabin ten. You were staring off into the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you suddenly heard somebody sit next to you. You turned your head to see a dark haired boy, looking at you with a smile as he spoke.
“Hey gorgeous, I’m Steve. I think I’ve seen you around before. Athena cabin, right?” He asked, his eyes never pulling from you. You didn’t feel like entertaining him. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was flirting with you. But thoughts of not reciprocating his flirtatious attitude quickly disappear when you see Clarisse watching from the corner of your eyes. 
All night you had to watch Clarisse cuddle up with someone who wasn’t you. And all night you refused to give her the attention you knew she was hoping to get out of it, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to. So when you finally get the chance for that sweet revenge, you don't hesitate.
You looked at the boy next to you, putting on a sweet smile and placing a hand on his knee. “Yeah, cabin six. What about you?” You slightly tilted your head, looking at him as if he was the most interesting person on earth.
“Hermes cabin,” he responded. He suddenly grew a bit shy under touch, but welcomed it nevertheless. “Hey do you uh… wanna get out of here? I know this cool spot I could show you.” You knew what that was code for; do you want to make out?
“Sure, sounds good,” you winked at him before getting up. He held his hand out for you, which you took as you both began to walk away from the fire. Clarisse's eyes were on you the whole time, clenching her jaw as she watched you walk with him hand in hand. She ignored her siblings’ confused looks as she walked over to you before you and Steve could go any further.
“I think she’s good here,” she said—not asked.
“Um, I think she can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl, if she wants to go, she can go,” he responded. 
“I don’t know who you think you are, but she’s not leaving with you.” She glared at the boy with storms in her eyes, her fists balled up. By now your hands were separated from the boy’s, watching the entertaining scene in front of you with a knowing look on your face.
“Excuse me–” Before he could get himself into any more trouble, you walked to Clarisse’s side—she instantly put her hand on your lower back.
“Listen it was nice meeting you Steve, but she’s right; I should really get going; it’s getting kinda late.” You gave him a fake apologetic look. “Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?” You managed to get out as Clarisse was practically dragging you away. 
“What’s your problem?” You said to her when you both finally made it to the cabin—her cabin. 
“My problem? What’s yours! You know Steve is a douchebag, we were literally laughing about it last week,” Clarisse let out with an aggravated tone. 
“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that somebody else is stuck with my high maintenance ass!” She only rolled eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t bring that up!” You dryly laughed.
“Oh my Gods,” she mumbled before continuing. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!”
“And you’re the most hot-tempered woman I have ever met!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up as you stepped closer to her. “You’re a hot-headed asshole!”
“Well it’s better than being a stubborn know-it-all!” She took a step towards you; your faces were now no more than inches apart. You both stole a glance at the other’s lip before a moment of silence. Suddenly, your lips connected. She was firmly gripping your waist while one of your hands found itself in her hair as the other held the back of her neck.
“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled breathless against her lips. She pushed you up against the cabin door; Gods, you didn’t even care that you were still outside and anybody could just walk by.
“I fucking hate you too.” Her kissing was hungry, passionate. Blood was rushing through veins, your cheeks were warm, and butterflies had erupted in your stomach. You could feel Clarisse feeling for the door's handle for a few seconds before you reached behind you to turn it.
You both went inside, Clarisse kicking the door shut. You could feel her warm touch as her hand grazed the skin of your lower back. She walked you backwards toward her bed, never daring to pull away. 
“Fuck, I love you,” you let out as Clarisse moved down to your neck.
“I love you too, don’t you forget it,” she murmurs against you. 
Clarisse La Rue may have been narcissistic, stubborn, hot-headed, and pretentious, but you were your mother’s daughter, so maybe you could fix her.
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A/N: she could abuse me, beat the dog-shit outta me, cheat on me, hit me with her car
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syluslnd · 1 month ago
Note
Request~
Ok so I remember a while back reading a post about slyus with a bimbo/ hyper fem reader and it was so cute (I can't remember who did it tho 😔 ) and as someone who has that aesthetic and can be a bit um clumsy I wanted to ask if u could something like that.
sylus with a hyper fem gf
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(i hope i did it justice i know what you’re asking for but im the complete opposite so it was super hard for me to get creative with the scenarios im sorry bae so i made a bunch of small scenarios i hope u like it kisses <3)
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when you regret your shoe option
You're wobbling slightly as you step out of the car, your heels clicking on the pavement.Sylus, as usual is there to offer his hand his expression half-amused half-concerned.
"kitten take it slow" he says, eyeing the narrow sidewalk ahead. "Don't need you toppling over."
You roll your eyes playfully. "I got this sy,i can handle a little sidewalk !”
But after two careful steps you start to feel the instability of the gravel beneath your heels and Sylus instantly closes the distance between you his hand firm at the small of your back.
"You're going to break your ankle" he says seriously, though there's a teasing smile playing at his lips. "Maybe we should invest in some flats, huh?"
You pout. "Flats aren't cute and I like how tall I am next to you with these."
He chuckles, eyes softening. "You're cute enough without them, trust me. But l'd rather you not fall on your face kitten."
crop top issues
The air conditioning in the coffee shop is blasting and you're sitting there arms wrapped tightly around yourself shivering slightly in your crop top. Sylus glances over from his coffee shaking his head.
"You cold, sweetie?" he asks with a smirk, knowing the answer already.
"A little.." you admit through chattering teeth.
"I told you to bring a jacket." He leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying this moment.
"I didn't think it would be this cold inside! and besides”you tug at the hem of your crop top "I wanted to look cute."
"You do look cute kitten” he says, his tone softening. "But you're freezing. Here." He shrugs off his hoodie and tosses it over to you.
You snuggle into it immediately, your nose peeking out of the oversized hood. Sylus chuckles, reaching across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Better?"
You nod, feeling warm-both from the hoodie and the gesture. "I guess you were right this time."
"I'm always right sweetie " he teases, raising an eyebrow.
hair frustration
You're standing in front of the mirror, trying to curl your hair for what feels like the hundredth time. Every curl seems to flop or frizz and with each failed attempt, your frustration builds. Eventually, you throw the curling iron down with a dramatic sigh and slump onto the bed, tears forming in your eyes.
Sylus walks into the room, looking confused but concerned. "kitten what's wrong?"
"My hair!" you cry, waving your hand at the mirror. "It won't curl right and it looks awful!"
Sylus steps closer, eyeing your hair as if trying to understand what the problem is. "It looks fine to me sweetie"
"Fine isn't good enough!" You huff, the tears starting to spill. "I wanted it to look perfect and now it's ruined!"
He chuckles softly, sitting beside you on the bed. "You're crying over your hair?"
You nod, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "I know it's dumb but it's just so frustrating!"
Without saying a word, Sylus gently runs his fingers through your hair, smoothing it out.
"It's not dumb sweetie" he says quietly. "But you're adorable when you get all worked up like this."
You glance at him, pouting. "You're not taking this seriously."
"I am, I swear" he says, holding up his hands in surrender, though there's a playful glint in his eyes. "I just think you look cute no matter how your hair turns out."
You sniffle. "Really?"
"Really." He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "and if you want, I'll help you figure it out. But I promise, you look perfect already kitten."
The spider emergency
You spot the spider from across the room a small, barely visible dot moving along the wall. But that's all it takes. You let out a gasp and immediately scramble up onto the nearest chair, pulling your knees to your chest.
"Sylus!" you call out, voice a little shaky.
"There's a spider!"
Sylus appears from the hallway, looking mildly concerned until he sees the tiny culprit. "kitten..that little thing?"
"It's huge !!" you exaggerate wide-eyed, pointing dramatically toward the wall. "Get rid of it!"
He sighs, walking calmly toward the spider.
But before he can even approach, you reach out, arms extended. "Wait! Carry me first!"
He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "sweetie,you want me to carry you because of a spider?"
"Yes!" you demand. "It's going to crawl over here and-ugh-I don't even want to think about it!" Without hesitation sylus bends down and scoops you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back.
He carries you to the other side of the room, all while you cling to him dramatically, face buried in his shoulder.
He sets you down gently on the couch and smirks. "Safe enough now sweetie?"
You nod, peeking out from behind your hands. "Yeah, but... make sure it's gone." Sylus shakes his head, amused but indulgent and deals with the spider quickly.
"There, crisis averted."
You sigh in relief, settling into the couch.
"You're my hero."
He rolls his eyes playfully but ruffles your hair. "I think you could've handled it without the theatrics."
"Not a chance" you say with a grin. "That's what you're here for."
314 notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 5 months ago
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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv
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✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 11.3k
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰
series masterlist | next >>
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Numb.
It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.
But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.
The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.
You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.
“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.
"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.
There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."
“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"
“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.
You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."
"It's late. I understand-"
"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."
"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"
"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."
"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"
"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.
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Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.
Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.
“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”
He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”
The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.
“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.
“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”
“How long will it take for him to heal?”
“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”
“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.
“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”
“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.
“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”
You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.
“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.
“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”
“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.
You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?
“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."
There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”
Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”
You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”
For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."
With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.
As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.
After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.
Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.
Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.
“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."
“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”
He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”
“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”
"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"
"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”
Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”
A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.
“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”
Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.
“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.
“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.
“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”
Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.
The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.
“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.
"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."
You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.
"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."
His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.
No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.
You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.
Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.
"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.
"How is he? Namjoon?"
"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."
"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"
"No, actually, it was yesterday."
There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.
"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."
"Tan?" you ask, curious now.
"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."
Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.
As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.
"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."
"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."
"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"
Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.
You chuckle inwardly at yourself.
Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.
I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.
"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.
You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."
"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.
"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."
Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."
"What theme?"
"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."
You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."
"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.
"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."
Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”
Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."
Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.
Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.
Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”
Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"
He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.
"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."
"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.
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“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.
“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.
You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.
“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.
“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”
Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”
You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”
Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”
“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”
“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”
You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”
“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”
At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?
“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.
“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”
“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”
You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."
“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”
You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”
“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”
You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.
“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”
You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”
“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”
“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”
As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.
Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.
Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.
Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.
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You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.
Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.
Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.
You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.
Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.
It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.
You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.
When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.
Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.
"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."
"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."
You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.
"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."
"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"
"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."
"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."
"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."
"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."
"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.
"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"
You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.
"Yes..."
"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.
"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.
"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."
"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."
"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."
"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."
Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.
Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.
"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."
You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."
Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.
"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."
You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."
"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."
For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.
When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.
"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."
His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.
As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.
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In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.
"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."
Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."
You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?
"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...
"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.
"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.
"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.
"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"
"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."
Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.
To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.
The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.
"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.
Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."
"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.
"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.
You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.
Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"
You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."
Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."
You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"
A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."
You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.
Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."
"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."
"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."
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By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.
It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.
It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.
"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.
"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."
"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.
It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.
Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?
Evidently not.
Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.
It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.
"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."
"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."
As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."
"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.
Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."
Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.
"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.
"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."
"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.
"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."
"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.
"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.
While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.
Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.
Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.
"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."
"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"
"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."
You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.
"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."
There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"
You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"
"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."
Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."
You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.
When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.
"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."
You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."
You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.
"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."
"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."
You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.
He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."
You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.
"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."
You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.
He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."
You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."
He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."
He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.
"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."
He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.
"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.
"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."
You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."
With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.
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Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.
Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.
Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.
Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.
You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?
You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.
As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.
You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!
You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?
You end up deleting the message entirely.
Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.
Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.
Smiling, you accept the invitation.
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Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.
Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.
Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.
"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"
Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.
"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.
"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"
Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."
His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.
"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."
Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."
You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"
"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."
You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."
"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."
"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."
Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."
You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.
"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.
Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.
"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."
You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."
Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.
You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.
"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."
"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."
You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"
"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.
"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.
"I will," you promise. “You too.”
"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.
"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."
Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"
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It's surreal.
How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.
Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.
Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.
Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.
You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.
Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."
You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.
"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"
Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."
"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.
Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."
"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."
"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."
"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.
"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.
"Well... maybe?" you tease back.
"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.
"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."
As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.
Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."
"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."
Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.
"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.
"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.
"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.
"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."
"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?
"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."
"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.
"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.
You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."
"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."
"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"
"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."
You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.
For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"
"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.
"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.
"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."
"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.
Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"
What? You had no clue.
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a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth
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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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keepingitformyself · 15 days ago
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there’s been no way for me to say (that i felt a certain way)
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Synopsis: natasha romanoff has loved you for ages and she could never seem to get it right.
pairings: natasha romanoff x reader
genre: college AU, fluff and angst.
warnings: angst?
please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.
natasha met you in a very peculiar way.
it started at a friends of a friends party, in some internet starlet’s brooklyn loft.
drinks were going around, the music was loud, the smell of marijuana was very strong. she doesn’t quite remember it— after having been to a bunch of parties they all seem to blur into one— but she knows it was enough to leave a lasting impression on her.
she’d heard your piercing laugh from across the room. you, in a tight tank top and some black slacks. she could see the shine of sweat against your skin, the colorful lighting of the room making you seem so beautifully human.
everything sort of froze in the coming moments. she watched as you took your top off without a second thought. you were about to shotgun a beer and you stood tall as you did it atop the kitchen island. you didn’t need the attention, nor did you want it, but you had it.
it was a simple behavior. but it stayed with natasha long after you had crushed the beer can and tossed it on the floor somewhere.
natasha thinks you never notice her staring for the rest of the night but you do.
weeks later she sees you again at another party.
clint, wanda, tony and everyone else joins her this time. she isn’t surprised when she sees you. it was the same crowd, similar friend groups. but this time you made it easy for her to approach you.
somehow you end standing next to eachother near where all the drinks had been laid out.
"hey," you said, voice casual but warm. "didn’t expect to see you here again."
natasha smiled, though she hadn’t expected to talk to you at all. nor did she think you noticed her. "i guess we have similar taste in parties."
you laughed lightly. “guess so."
there was a beat of silence before you added, “you know, you were kinda staring at me last time.”
natasha froze for a second, unsure how to respond. she hadn’t thought you’d noticed. but before she could stammer out an excuse, you were already grinning.
“i’m just messing with you. it was funny. i didn’t think anyone would care enough to notice me.”
natasha was relieved, yet still unsure if you were actually joking. either way she felt this was going better than she planned.
the night wore on and you guys carried easy conversation. natasha was still unsure how to even approach talking to you. she felt kind of shy. so she improvised by making references to things she didn’t think you’d get, but you almost always did.
you dropped a reference to something obscure, a movie natasha had once obsessed over, and natasha stared at you for a moment longer than was socially acceptable. she couldn’t stop herself.
“you’re really into that, huh?” she said, and just like that, the bond started to form. it wasn’t immediate or instant, not the kind of connection that screams “best friends forever.” no, it was something stranger, something subtler, like two different puzzle pieces that had almost fit, only to get pushed back together by sheer happenstance.
“your references are spot on.” you laughed. natasha smiled at how easy you made it for her to be around you.
you and natasha started seeing each other more, slowly building this weird, unspoken routine. she’d text you at random, making some kind of sarcastic comment or joke only you would get, and you’d shoot back a meme that only someone with your specific sense of humor would understand. over time, you both ended up in the same circles, passing each other in the hallways of the university, at class, at parties—always just a little bit more than acquaintances, but never quite crossing into the territory of “best friends.”
there was something comfortable about it. easy, even. but for natasha, it was also strange. the more she saw you, the more she felt like there was something else there, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge. maybe it was a crush. maybe it was more than that.
it wasn’t as though either of you had been completely oblivious to the passing of time, to the fact that you were both growing older, moving through college with the same bittersweetness that everyone else felt. and yet, there was still this distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you had broken down.
natasha thought about you a lot more than she’d like to admit. how she so badly wanted to cross the line between friendship and something more.
by senior year, natasha couldn’t ignore it anymore. her feelings for you weren’t just fleeting glances or passing thoughts. they were there, constant, sitting beneath her skin, running through her mind like a song she couldn’t shake. but it wasn’t just a crush. it was more. she could feel it. she knew it.
the desperation kept getting worse.
it was a slow burn.
you were months set from graduating, natasha felt it was time she’d try to test her luck.
it was late into the evening at yet another party—music blaring, laughter echoing through the crowded living room, and cups of cheap beer littering the tables. one last semester before graduation, before the "real world" set in. natasha was sitting on the couch, leaning against the back with her legs stretched out in front of her. her eyes roamed the room, scanning for someone to talk to. and then she saw you.
you were in the middle of a conversation with clint and wanda, your hands animatedly gesturing as you told some wild story about a disastrous trip to the beach, the kind of tale that had everyone in stitches. natasha couldn’t help but smile from across the room. there was something magnetic about you—how you lived so fully, how you pulled everyone into your orbit without even trying. natasha had been watching you for months now, always on the edge of your space, always wishing she could be more than just a silent observer.
she didn’t know when it started—when the simple admiration had turned into something else. but now, as she watched you laugh with your friends, something in her chest tightened. this wasn’t a crush she could just ignore.
it wasn’t the first time natasha had thought about asking you out. but tonight felt different. maybe it was the proximity of graduation, the sudden realization that this was it—that you both were on the brink of leaving behind this chaotic, unmoored time in your lives. she could either stay on the sidelines or take the chance.
she stood up, smoothing out her jacket and walking across the room. her friends—clint, wanda, and sam—noticed her approaching and exchanged knowing glances, all but daring her to make a move. natasha could feel the weight of their stares, but she ignored them. she focused only on you.
"hey," she said, stepping into the conversation, a little breathless from the nerves she’d kept hidden.
you turned, giving her that warm smile you always did. "hey, nat! what’s up?"
"not much, just wanted to, uh, ask you something," natasha began, her usual confidence faltering just a little.
“i was thinking about heading to this bar later, just to get away from all… this,” she gestured vaguely to the party around them, “and i was wondering if you wanted to join me? for drinks. just us. you know, before we all get caught up in the whole graduation mess.”
it was casual, maybe too casual. but natasha didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal. not with everyone watching.
there was a pause, just a beat too long, before you looked at her, a faint frown pulling at your brow. you were processing. “uh,” you hesitated, glancing at your friends.
clint, wanda, and sam all turned their heads at the same time, giving you the slightest raise of their brows. you bit your lip, clearly unsure, and natasha’s heart sank a little at the hesitation.
"i mean," you said slowly, looking back at natasha. "we’re friends, nat. i just… i’m not sure."
it was a gentle rejection, but it stung all the same. natasha swallowed, masking her disappointment with a shrug. "no, yeah, of course. no pressure." she let out a quiet laugh, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, trying to laugh it off. "i was just messing with you. don't worry about it."
you nodded, a small, apologetic smile on your lips. "i mean, i’d love to hang out more, just—"
"totally fine," natasha interrupted, her voice light but edged with something that made her own heart ache. she smiled, keeping it neutral. "maybe some other time."
she turned away quickly, but she felt your eyes on her as she walked back to the couch, her friends watching the entire scene unfold. clint raised his brows, and natasha just shook her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply that small exchange had affected her.
but inside, it stung. it stung more than she cared to admit. it wasn’t just a small rejection. it was the fear that maybe you had noticed her feelings all along and were just too scared to say anything about it.
that night, natasha tried to sleep, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. you were everything she had wanted, but in this strange, liminal space, neither of you had been brave enough to admit it.
weeks passed, the semester came to an end, and graduation day loomed on the horizon. natasha and you both moved on in your own ways, starting to make plans for life after college. but something lingered. something unsaid. life became a little more faster, and faces got a little older.
you reached out to her a few times. it was never the same as before. it was different now, with this strange tension lingering between you both. but you kept in touch, as if you both were afraid of letting go of something that might have been, something that might have still been.
and maybe it was ridiculous, natasha thought, but she was okay with it. she had loved you for years, and maybe that was the most honest thing she could admit to herself.
because even if you two had never been the closest of people, you’d always been there. always in the background, always in between. and somehow, that was enough for natasha. enough for her to hold on to the hope that maybe, one day, you’d both be able to finally figure it out.
it had been two years since you both left the university. two years where natasha had started a career in marketing, constantly moving up, climbing the corporate ladder while trying (and failing) to suppress the things she didn’t want to feel about you. she had dated, of course. a couple of short-term relationships, nothing serious. but nothing had ever lasted, and she had never quite understood why until now. the answer had always been there, hovering just out of reach, in the form of a text, a call, a passing thought about you.
as for you, you’d moved across the country for a job in graphic design. you didn’t think much about natasha at first. life had been busy—new city, new friends, new routine—but every now and then, you'd wonder if she'd thought of you. if she remembered how everything had felt when you were both on the brink of something, but never quite dared to cross the line.
and then it happened.
it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t expected. but one saturday evening, natasha found herself sitting at a bar in brooklyn after a long week at work. she’d had a rough day. one of those days where everything felt like too much. and then, as she nursed her gin and tonic, she heard someone call her name.
it was a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.
“natasha?”
she turned, already recognizing the voice before she even saw your face. and there you were, standing in the doorway of the bar like a memory coming to life. your hair had grown a little longer, and you looked different, older in a way that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. but you were still you—the same you who had been in those parties, those late-night study sessions, the one who had always made her laugh with a look or a passing reference.
for a moment, neither of you said anything. just stood there, eyes locking, as if trying to figure out whether this was real.
“i didn’t know you were in new york,” natasha said, her voice betraying the sudden weight in her chest. she couldn’t keep the smile from forming, even though she tried.
“i wasn’t planning on being,” you said, grinning. “work sent me here for a few weeks. i was meeting some friends, but it’s been a while, so i thought i’d just see if you were around.”
it wasn’t exactly casual. but you both knew it wasn’t entirely random, either. it felt like fate had decided that you two were finally going to do this.
you sat down, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always had. the awkwardness of the past melted away. you didn’t need to pretend anymore. there were no more games, no more hesitations.
just you and natasha, picking up where you left off, though this time, the space between you felt a little different. there was an understanding now, a quiet knowing in the way you both spoke, a recognition that time had done its job.
“so…how’s life?” natasha asked, pushing her drink aside and leaning in a little closer.
you shrugged, but there was something different about you too, something less guarded. “it’s been alright. busy. but you know how that goes. i’ve been thinking about home, though. about—” you paused, then looked directly at natasha. “about people i should have kept in touch with.”
natasha’s heart was thudding in her chest, but she kept it together. she was a master of hiding emotions, after all. “yeah?” she asked, her voice softer now.
“yeah,” you said, with a smile that made natasha’s stomach flutter. “it’s funny how things work out. you don’t realize what you miss until you’re standing in front of it again.”
time had always been a strange thing between natasha and you—something both distant and close at the same time, like a thread that wound its way through your lives, never quite snapping, always lingering. you’d known each other for years, seen each other at parties, shared quiet moments, and laughed at the same jokes. but all that time, there had always been a hesitation. a space between the two of you, filled with something—something both of you had been aware of but had never dared to name.
it was the kind of thing that was easier to ignore in college, easier to pretend it wasn’t there while you were both busy with classes, with your lives, with the thrill of being young and not yet knowing what you wanted out of the world.
but that something between you had always been there, pulling at both of you, quiet but undeniable. the way you caught each other’s eyes a little too long. the way your conversations turned into something more meaningful without either of you intending it. the way natasha would see you at parties and catch her breath for just a moment. the way you’d smile, as if you both knew, but neither of you was brave enough to act on it.
you’d both dated people. tried relationships. but it had never lasted, had it? there was always that nagging feeling in the back of your mind—something missing, something not quite right. as if your lives couldn’t fit together because they weren’t ready to yet. you didn’t have the words for it, and neither did natasha. but you both knew. you always knew.
the things that had once seemed complicated—life, timing, fear—suddenly didn’t feel as big as they once had. there was a quiet honesty between you now, as if you both had grown enough to stop pretending you didn’t feel it. the awkwardness, the hesitation, the “maybe” that had been there before was gone.
it was you. it had always been you. and you knew it too.
“so,” natasha said after a beat, her voice softer now, quieter than before. “what are we doing here, really? we’re not strangers. we’ve known each other for, what, almost four years now?”
you looked at her, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t hide the tension in your gaze. “we’ve known each other longer than that,” you said. “we’ve always known.”
“i think i’ve always been afraid of this,” natasha admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “afraid that i’d say the wrong thing, or that it would mess things up between us. that maybe the timing was never going to be right.”
you nodded slowly. “i’ve been afraid of that too.” you paused, then added with a wry smile, “i was never good with timing.”
“maybe we don’t need perfect timing,” natasha said softly, her gaze meeting yours with something she hadn’t let herself feel before—a quiet certainty. “maybe it’s just the right time now. after all this time.”
you didn’t answer right away. you didn’t have to. instead, you reached across the bar, your hand brushing gently against hers, and just like that, it all clicked. there was no more hesitation. no more waiting. you both knew what this was, what it always had been.
“yeah,” you said, your voice low and certain. “i think you’re right.”
and that was it.
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thinkinonsense · 3 months ago
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Francesca
old!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: angst, mentions of death, sad logan, a bit of fluff
wc: 800+
a/n: not sure if this will be the last part of the mini-series or not. i think i'll only add more if im inspired. i have a new mini-series idea for old man!logan so be on the lookout for that in a week or so.
hozier mini-series masterlist
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
Logan had lost a lot in his life. He watched people he cared about die right before his eyes; the ultimate curse of living such a long life. Everyone he loved had to go at some point, and for the most part, he accepted that until you entered his life.
He did everything he could to ensure your safety, and for the most part, it worked. The only place where you weren't protected was in his nightmares.
Ever since you two met, the nightmares appear less and less but they also never fully disappear either. Logan still wakes up in cold sweats and haunting images of your bloody body dead in his arms.
"Hey! Hey! I'm alright, honey." You whispered in an attempt to bring him back to reality. "I'm here. I'm right here."
The only thing that helps him calm down is when you place one of his hands over your heart; skin to skin, feeling your heartbeat pulse and knowing that you are indeed alive and lying next to him.
Logan's heavy breathing eases after a few moments. He carefully wraps you into his arms, placing you on his chest. You knew in times like these that Logan needed to feel you.
"No one's going to hurt me." You assure him.
"We don't know for sure..." He sighs. "and I can't risk that."
"I know for sure. You know how I am so certain that no one will hurt me?" You don't allow time for Logan to answer. Your fingers lace themselves with his, bringing this hand up to his and softly placing kisses over the slits in between his knuckles. "Because I feel safest with you and these claws are part of the reason why."
Logan wasn't one to blush or feel all mushy deep inside himself but those little kisses amazed him. He admired your kindness and patience towards him. It took him forever to understand how you did it.
"Sorry for waking you up, princess." He says, trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "Didn't mean to scare ya'."
"Do you honestly think I scare that easily?" Your light giggle almost makes Logan smile.
"Guess not." He shrugs, admiring how a sliver of moonlight catches on your face. "But in any other normal relationship you wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit-"
"Hey!" You whisper, springing up to fully face him now, soft hands holding each side of his face. "This isn't bullshit."
"It is, sweetheart." Logan sighs. "I'm selfish."
"How are you selfish?"
"Because you deserve to live a long life with someone who won't damn you."
"I don't care if you damn me!" Your voice raised, not in anger but in passion. "I love you. I love all of you. When they cut me open someday that's all they will find; my love for you pouring from inside of me."
Logan pulls you impossibly closer, afraid of you slipping away. His heart pounded with love; beating solely for your existence.
"Heaven couldn't house a love like ours."
There's a heaviness in your heart as you look into Logan's hazel eyes. even after all these years, it broke your heart that Logan always felt like you were made of sand. sure, you weren't a mutant like him but you wouldn't go down without a fight. he's always afraid that someone from his past will come for revenge and you'll be the one to pay for it.
"I don't want you to be so worried, lo.." you whisper, thumb soothing the salt and pepper beard that's bloomed over the last few days. "when my time comes, I don't want you to feel responsible for it."
Death was always a sensitive topic for both of you. your death, more specifically because someday it will come no matter if either of you is ready or not. Logan doesn't think he can live without you; you tell him that he's survived before you and will survive after you. he doesn't believe you.
"I've waited all my life for you. every agonizing, torturous moment brought me to you." his voice starts to strain. "now, you are all I have left to live for... so, when you're gone, babydoll, I won't be far behind you."
Tears roll down your cheek. overwhelmed with love and fear because you can't stop Logan from taking his own life if you die. he lays you back down on his chest carefully.
Logan had seen everything the world had to offer him; most of it was utter shit until he was graced with your presence. all he wanted to do with the rest of his life was shield you from all of the horrid darkness he had seen. you were too pure and he intended to keep you far away from it all, for as long as the two of you walked this earth.
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akutasoda · 21 days ago
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the fans are always right. right?
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synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up
includes - reca
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k
a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))
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a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.
a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.
today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.
after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.
and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.
but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.
twenty minutes.
you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.
you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.
it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.
you should've expected the first one being a five star review
@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."
a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after
@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐
- "what ?"
[review has been deleted]
maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person
- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)
perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile
@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐
- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."
or alternatively,
@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."
you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-
and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.
you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.
watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.
reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”
you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”
he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud
@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"
“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”
you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”
@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"
- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"
- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."
- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"
reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.
he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”
you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.
@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐
- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."
@/abardslyre : ⭐
- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."
you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl
@/seas_ablaze : ⭐
- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"
mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”
you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.
eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.
before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”
“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.
reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.
he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”
you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again
“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”
“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”
“what?”
mr reca was never easy to work with.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes
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meanbossart · 5 months ago
Note
Odd question, but when you're shading your pictures, where do you put the "true" color of whatever it is you're drawing? The parts that are in light are brighter than the original color and a bit of a different color, too, based on the source. The shadows are darker than the original color and more based on the undertones of the object/hair/skin or whatever, so also not the original color. I've noticed you have a kind of gradient between the colors to make them harsh but still blend together, too. Where does the shade you're basing these off of come in?
Sorry if this doesn't make sense 🙏 I'm trying to study art styles I like to figure out how to improve my own drawings, and your page is a huge inspiration for me.
Hmmm If I understand correctly, you're asking me why you can't color pick the base tones as shown below from anywhere in the picture, right?
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That's because A) I know these colors, roughly, by heart. So, Instead of picking them from the original drawing, I did what I always do and selected them manually. But also - and what I think is actually relevant for your question: B) A lot of processing takes place OVER these base colors! Let me get the spherical piece of Bhaal's sacred flesh to explain.
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Here we have just the base color by Itself. Next, I add a light wash of the undertone to places like the face, ears, hands - basically anywhere the body has a tendency to become flushed. The intensity of this depends on the person and skintone, and in DU drow's case I tend to make it pretty prominent.
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Next, I add the "overtone". I don't even know if that's the right term for it, but it's something that happens with very dark skintones because they tend to reflect more light. With my character, this color is almost always blue for stylistic reasons.
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The base tone is still there, even though you probably couldn't easily color pick it anymore. It's doing it's quiet, thankless job: being a base!
As if that wasn't enough, out comes all the fancy stuff:
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And I can get even sillier than this with more layers of shadows, multiple light sources, highlights, and so on. These colors here are just examples too - they can be pretty much anything in a similar level of brightness/contrast. All elements of the art that I want to render get this treatment or similar depending on their texture, not just the skin, so you can probably guess how they would get "lost" despite being used as a base.
Hopefully this clears things up!
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idkwhatever580 · 6 months ago
Text
Breaking up with you
Masterlist
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader
Prompt: y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?
Warnings: angst but fluff at the end (don’t worry I am incapable of writing a sad ending 😭), swearing, breaking up, mentions of upcoming period, crying
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Y/n’s pov
I wake up feeling clingy today. I don’t even know why it’s just one of those days.
I whine when I realize there is sun seeping in through the windows and onto my face so I flip around to find Natasha but she isn’t there.
I pout and reach for her until I find the end of the bed but no natty
“Natty?”
I mumble still with my morning sleepy voice.
No answer
Of course. She’s probably training. But she usually waits for me to wake up or at least leaves a note
I never did check if she left a note. So I look at both of our bedside tables. Nothing. I check my phone. Nothing. I get up to go to the bathroom. Not even a sticky note on the mirror.
Tragic
Maybe she got called on a last minute mission. No. She’d have someone tell me if she couldn’t tell me herself.
So why isn’t she here? I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend and eat takis.
Ohhhh. I get it now. I’m gonna start my period soon. I always crave takis when I’m about to be on my period. Which is probably also why I’m feeling so clingy.
So I check the time and shrug thinking what’s the worst that can happen if I eat a bag of takis for breakfast?
I grab one of the throw blankets as I pass the living room to the kitchen and walk into the pantry.
I look at my section and find the line of takis that says ‘OFF LIMITS I’LL BITE YOU!’ On its label. And I grab a bag happily knowing that nobody has tried taking them.
Except for Peter. Poor kid. I was actively on my period and he didn’t know since he was new. Ended up with his aunt laughing next to me when he was showing her the bite marks on his arm. She told him that he should have read the label.
I agree. Always listen when someone says they’ll bite you. They probably mean it.
Anyways. I go to the living room and plop down and then I say
“Friday?”
“Yes miss y/l/n?”
“Where is everyone?”
It’s a bit muffled since I’m stuffing my face with takis but Friday is able to understand.
“They are all in a meeting right now”
I furrow my eyebrows and say
“Without me?”
“It seems to be that way yes”
I frown and get up going to the meeting room.
##################
Natasha’s pov
We are having a meeting without y/n and suddenly Friday speaks up
“Miss y/l/n is on her way to the meeting room now. I would advise you hurry.”
We all scramble to change the scenery to make it look like a normal meeting about an upcoming mission.
Y/n walks in and says
“What’s going on guys?”
Wanda invades my brain and says
“Ignore her. Do not say a thing. I’ll handle it”
I nod once. I don’t really need to ignore her, but it fuels the fire I guess.
Wanda speaks up finally
“Oh we’re just having a meeting about our next mission. We decided to let you sleep in since your skill set isn’t required for this one.”
She shrugs her shoulders and says
“Okay. Hi nat”
She smiles and waves before leaving and I don’t say a thing.
Once she’s gone and Friday says that she is not coming back we let our breaths out and tony says
“That was a close one”
##################
Y/n’s pov
I sit back down and start to overthink.
I usually am able to keep my thoughts at bay but today is just not my day. So I get lost in my head.
Why did nat not say anything? She always says something. Always makes an effort to get up and show me some affection. Maybe it’s an off day for her too. Sometimes she doesn’t like to be affectionate and maybe that’s why.
I break myself out of my head when some of the avengers come tumbling into the room.
Nat is not one of them so I say
“Where’d nat go?”
A bunch of them shrug but Wanda says
“I think she might have gone upstairs.”
I nod my head and say in a slightly more hushed tone just to Wanda
“Did she seem off?”
Wanda shakes her head and says
“No? Why?”
I say
“Oh”
And shrug my shoulders and pick myself up
“No reason. Just wondering. Thanks!”
So I head upstairs and find Natasha in our room. She’s sitting on the bed and reading a book.
“Hey baby! You didn’t leave a note telling me where you were”
I fake pout at her and she doesn’t do anything just mumbles a quick apology.
I try to get a conversation going.
“No it’s okay baby. I just got a little lonely for a sec.”
She ignores me but I can’t catch a signal so I keep trying.
“What are we doing today?”
She just ignores me again and I sigh and say
“I guess that book is real good. I’ll leave you to it. I think I left my takis in the living room anyways. So I’ll be down there probably on my phone if you need me. I love you”
She doesn’t even say I love you back to me.
Alright. Im a bit hurt by that one. But nevertheless I do what I said I would.
I finished my bag of takis a while ago and I’m falling asleep on this couch. It’s definitely not as comfortable as nats arms but she probably needs space. Maybe the meeting made her have a few flashbacks or something.
Whatever it is I’ll give her enough space to process it.
My thoughts are cut off when the sweet escape of sleep overtakes me.
I wake up about an hour later and find that someone had put a blanket over me while I was out. Thanks.
I get up and go to our room hoping nat is ready to talk now. But she’s not there when I get there so I go in search of her.
After a while I find her in Clint’s room but I don’t go in. They’re talking and for some reason I get the urge to eavesdrop. So I do.
“Well you have to say something. You can’t just be leading her on. It’ll hurt her worse.”
“I don’t know Clint”
“Nat. I think you should just tell her”
Wait. Are they talking about me?
“How am I even supposed to go about that? I mean. It’s gonna be so awkward! Not to mention it’ll break the poor girl’s heart”
“Well sometimes you have to do things that aren’t comfortable for you.”
“Okay so I have to go and tell this girl who is head over heels for me that I’m not?! I mean. It’s so obvious right?”
“It is pretty obvious that you don’t like her”
“Yeah well she’s clearly not catching any signs. She’s really naive and besides, I’m literally-”
Fuck this shit.
I walk back to our room to get away from it all.
I can’t even handle this right now. My own girlfriend isn’t in love with me anymore. Of course.
Just when I think she’s in it with me forever. She doesn’t even like me.
And I’m so stupid to not notice that she was feeling this way. I’m probably holding her back.
This is bullshit. Why today? Why me?
I sulk in my room for a while and then I realize that I should surprise her and break up with her first. It’ll make it easier anyways.
I huff and decide to finally get dressed. I probably shouldn’t break up with her in my stitch pajamas.
So I change into some decent clothes and make sure I look presentable. Then I once again go in search of my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
This time I find her in the living room. I stand tall and say
“Natasha”
She ignores me. Fucking bitch. At least get the balls to break up with me. I’m having to do it for you.
“Natalia”
I use her name and she looks at me. Her face is still but I know she’s listening.
“May I have a word with you? Alone”
I emphasize the alone part and she nods her head softly. We walk in silence to our room and I close the door behind me.
We stare at each other for a second when she breaks the silence
“You wanted to tell me something? Is everything alright?”
I cross my arms and say
“No everything is not alright. I just want to say a few things and then I’ll be on my way.”
She nods her head and quirks a brow. I know she notices my standoffish behavior.
“I’m breaking up with you”
I tell it to her blunt. And her face goes through so many emotions before she’s able to say
“What?!”
I look at her and say
“You heard me”
She shakes her head to break out of her thoughts and she says
“Yes I heard you but you can’t be serious right?”
I narrow my eyes at her and give her a nasty look and say
“What? Didn’t see it coming?”
She shakes her head and says
“Wha- wh- why?”
I roll my eyes and say
“You act like you didn’t want this in the first place. There’s a few things you should know. Im not naive. I’m not oblivious. And I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t worry. I made it easy for you now you don’t have to break my heart.”
She tears up and before she can make her case I walk out. I don’t want to hear it.
And I’m about to break down. So I quickly walk to Wanda’s room and storm in.
She stands up quickly and vision, who was sitting on the bed with her watching sitcoms, makes a speedy exit upon seeing my state.
“What’s wrong?”
I sniffle and try to hold back my tears and I say
“I broke up with Natasha”
“WHAT?!”
I start completely sobbing by now. Wanda picks me up and carries me into her bed and she comforts me until I can speak in full sentences again.
“Okay what happened? I thought she was your endgame”
I nod and say
“She was. Until I heard her talking to Clint earlier”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“What did you hear?”
I tell her about the conversation I overheard and she squints analyzing my retelling.
“Is it okay if I call Clint in here? It sounds like you didn’t get the full story and I want to hear another side to it”
I shrug my shoulders and nod my head so Wanda texts him. After a few minutes he comes in with an angry face and a wet patch on his shoulder.
Great. Natasha’s already gotten to him.
“Why would you do that y/n?!”
Wanda cuts him off and says
“Hold on Clint. Before we get to that we need to hear something from you okay? So calm down”
Wanda explains to him what I’ve told and he sighs. Then he starts chuckling softly and then full on laughing and I frown and say
“What’s so funny!?”
He shakes his head and says
“Y/n. Natasha wasn’t talking to me about you. She was talking to me about Reese. The new intern. She’s been all over Natasha recently and cannot pick up any signs. If you had stayed a second later you would have heard Natasha say ‘and besides. I’m literally in love with y/n’ and none of this would have happened.”
I look down a little embarrassed.
“I guess sometimes I get a little bit angry. I didn’t even think.”
He nods his head and pats my shoulder and says
“I think you should go and fix this.”
I nod my head and go to his room where Natasha is.
I knock softly and say
“Nat?”
She jumps up and wipes her tears trying to seem strong and says
“Oh. What’s up. Did you need me to get my things?”
I shake my head and say
“I’m so sorry baby. I was eaves dropping on your conversation with Clint earlier and I missed some parts and thought you were talking about me! So I got angry and sad and then I was like ‘well if she’s thinking about doing it to me I’m gonna do it first’ because I was protecting myself from the inevitability of a heart break. I love you so much and I just was scared. I didn’t even think to ask you about it first and I’m sorry I was just being sensitive today and I had no idea! I am so sorry and I compl-”
Natasha cuts off my ramble with a kiss and I obviously kiss back.
We somehow end up half way making out until Clint says
“Hey! Not in my room you fucking horndogs!”
We pull away and giggle and Natasha grabs my hand and pulls me to our room and I say
“I’m sorry”
She shakes her head and says
“Y/n when you said that to me it made my heart split in two. I love you entirely too much to make the mistake of letting you go. I’m sure I would have come after you if it weren’t for my initial shock. I guess I just thought we were so endgame that the thoughts of a breakup would have never crossed my mind.”
I smile and say
“I’m sorry.”
Then all of a sudden I get nervous and play with my hands and look at the ground and she says
“What’s on your mind sweetheart?”
I bite my lip and say
“Since I um. Since I broke up with you like thirty minutes ago will you- um- will you be my girlfriend again?”
She laughs and says
“Yes of course baby”
I smile and say
“Sorry. It felt informal to not ask.”
She cups my face in her hands and says
“Next time let’s talk about it before we go breaking up with each other yes?”
I nod my head and say
“Sorry. I think I’m starting my period soon so I’m kind of having some fog brain.”
She nods her head in understanding and I say
“Now that we’re okay, can I have cuddles?”
She smiles and says
“Yes dorogoy. Of course we can.”
I smile and then say in a teasing tone
“This is actually your fault”
She scoffs as I cuddle next to her and plays along
“How is this my fault?!”
“You didn’t leave a note for me this morning.”
She rolls her eyes and says
“I am sorry baby. I was rushed out of bed and it slipped my mind. I guess it’s because I usually don’t have meetings without you so I forgot”
I nod my head and say
“You forgort”
I giggle a bit and she says
“You and your fricken vocal stims.”
I smile and say
“I think I’m pretty cool”
She smiles and says
“The coolest. Now let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace”
I smile and pull her super close to me. Then push her away as a joke and half way yell
“Leave room for Jesus!”
She rolls her eyes and says
“Come here.”
I get closer and say
“I love you”
She smiles and says
“I love you too”
##################
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346
A/N: sometimes I’ll use the most random things to separate my section 😭
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threeacttragedy · 10 days ago
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Entry 8: The One About the Adjacent of Convenience
Are you guys ready to return to our regularly scheduled programme?
Actually, I must applaud the majority of the people who read my blog for how well they handled Sunday. It seemed many of you got a good laugh out of it and were then gifted Monday morning with an updated post from that dear restauranteur tossing out Lady Whistledown’s name for – honestly, I don’t know why he threw it out there. Do you?
Moving on…
Yesterday, I discussed Antonia. Today, I am going to venture over to the other side of the fandom and discuss – you guessed it – Jake Dunn.
And, no, I’m not summoning the Balrog today. In fact, I don’t equate Jake to a creature from the depths of Moria because, generally speaking, he doesn’t bother me.
Do I find him a tad annoying? Of course I do. But, only because the perception of his relationship with Nicola has been warped into something ass backwards (no pun intended) to anyone with two bits of common sense, and because he’s always inconveniently there.
At the right time.
For those pap pictures.
However, the rational side of my brain reminds me that if I don’t see anything romantic in Nicola’s relationships with, say, JVN, Mark, Golda, Jack, or either of the Dylans, I shouldn’t be bothered by her relationship with Jake. Would we be paying any attention to Jake if he wasn’t being shoved down our throats by anti-Lukolas? No, probably not.
But, here we are.
I will preface this entry with my belief that Jake did not ask to be linked romantically to Nicola. That was Deux Moi's doing. Keep that in mind as you read through this. Deux Moi created that bullshit plotline and then rabid dogs ran with it.
By the way, those are the people you should be worried about. The ones pushing their “Jakola” narratives with blind aggression. I’m talking about those “in your face” assholes whose real motive behind shipping Nicola with anyone-but-Luke is solely based on their rapid-fire hatred towards Luke. These people are not Jakolas; these people are the Jakholes.
*Oh, now is the time to slip this in… My disclaimer (or, my “ask”) for today is, let’s not pick on the Sincerely Ignorant Jakola shippers. They are just as volatile as the Sincerely Ignorant Lukola shippers. They spiral fast and hard, too. Seriously, don’t fuck with these people, please. I believe most of them to be nice people.
Thank you, next.
I know that some of you will argue that Jake is a manipulative little shit and intentionally tried to make connections between Nicola and himself by way of pictures in her personal spaces and a fucking bucket hat, and that may be true. In fact, I’ve heard this argument from Lukolas that I highly respect. It’s very possible Jake has taken advantage of his friendship with Nicola. I understand the argument behind this theory and, I’ll be honest, it has made me question Jake’s character.
But, that’s not the point I’m trying to make today.
Today, I want to focus on how Jake became an “adjacent of convenience.”
What is that exactly? Well, actually, I just now made that shit up. But, it means he’s an adjacent, not because he’s romantically involved with Nicola, but rather he was in the wrong place at the right time.
It’s funny to me, when you spend some time mapping out all the little nuances that make up the Lukola timeline, that you start seeing a bigger picture.
I do not know who was behind Papsmear. Word on the street is that it was Deux Moi. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually confirmed that so, for now, I can only speculate – and speculate I will!
If you look at events in chronological order, it is interesting that, in July, the day before a video of Luke and Antonia at the GQ dinner hit social media, Deux Moi posted old pictures of Luke and Antonia from, I believe, January. Why? It’s also interesting that the day before People Magazine published the Italy Pap pictures of Luke and Antonia, Deux Moi rehashed Papsmear. Again, why?
Do you see the patterns patterning?
I thought you would.
Then what happened?
Well, “Hot Boy Summer” suddenly came to an abrupt halt with Luke returning to London.
Alone.
Is it odd to you that Luke has not been papped with Antonia since the end of July? Because it’s pretty damn odd to me. Is it possible that Luke and Antonia ceased to be “together” at the end of July? If you have read my previous entry, you already know my opinion on this.
But, dammit, that’s a shame! No more scraps for the paps. How unfortunate for Deux Moi.
Okay, then what?
Well, “Chaos Week” began. We had Nicola posting a shit storm of content starting August 4 with French toast and ending August 16 with “Juna.” We had Wordle. We had Scrabble. We had the “Drink Your Milk” shirt. We had “Bless the Telephone.” We had “very demure, very mindful” (which, in my opinion, was confirming the intent behind “Chaos Week”). Oddly, all these things seemed to weigh heavily in Lukolas’ favor. We could even take it a bit further by including the August 22 “BTS Polin” picture and the August 23 “modern day carriage” story (you know, the picture of Nicola looking oh-so-come-hither-sexy in the back of a car), which was followed up two days later by JVN’s “finger” demo. I mean, the Lukola train was rolling, right?! Fuck, yeah, it was!
But, then it came to a very abrupt stop on August 25 when Deux Moi posted pictures of Nicola hanging out with Jake at a music festival. The narrative being given? Oh, so cozy vibes.
And, that’s the moment Jake became an adjacent of convenience.
Just from being at a concert.
Taking a picture with Nicola.
Before this point, did I know who Jake Dunn was? Yeah, I did. I’d seen – in fact DEUX MOI – post pictures of Nicola and Jake hanging out in a pub together in July. I’ll be honest, I looked Jake up at the time and everything I read about him seemed to point in the exact same direction it points to today – that he’s not romantically involved with Nicola.
In fact, I polled at least two dozen of my fellow Lukolas (with the majority of them being fellow Fact Finders, with a select few being “long haulers”) about whether they’d heard of “Jakolas” before August 25. Their answer was a collective and figuratively loud NO.
What does that say to you? It makes me believe that the Jakolas were born from those festival pictures.
How convenient.
Just a few short weeks after the Antonia/Luke ship (do they even have a name?) hit an iceberg (pun intended), we suddenly have the christening of a new ship. The USS Jakola.
How convenient.
Now, think about every good thing that has come about in the Lukola fandom since the Jakholes were released into the wild.
Every positive has been collectively counteracted with a negative.
Think about the timing of all those pap pictures with Jake.
Think about who is releasing those pap pictures.
Are the patterns starting to pattern in your head?
Think about how much effort Nicola has put into erasing the Jakola narrative.
Think about how little effort Nicola has put into erasing the Lukola narrative.
Think about how much that must piss the fuck out of the Jakholes. And Deux Moi.
Anyone want to go with me to rescue Jake from the USS Jakola? I heard the Jakholes put him in the hull closet.
If you have some hesitation, I suppose I could agree to keep him hostage until we know where his allegiance lies. But I'm thinking he's dying to get off that ship.
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jinisnuggets · 2 months ago
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➳ 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓘𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓽 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵
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PAIRINGS | Dom! Idol! Sunoo x Sub! Gn! Reader
GENRE | Smut
WORD COUNT | 0.7k
WARNINGS | Nicknames (Love, baby), swearing, (chest) play, rough dom Sunoo, overstimulation, A little time-skipped
SYNOPSIS | In a fan's eye he may be innocent, but to you he is your little monster
NETWORK | @en-diaries @starlit-network @k-library @blossomnet
A/N | Hi! This is my first time writing smut in a LONG time, so I'm open to any feedback/criticism you may have :D
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His hips grinded against you as he pinned you down onto the bed, holding your arms tightly to ensure your stay. Light groans escaped from his mouth, as he kept his lips glued onto yours, not daring to separate from your warm touch.
“Sunoo- stop..” you spoke softly, seeing him smirk at you knowingly. He knew what he did to you and felt proud of it.
“Love, you know you don't mean that.”
His bulge grew, moaning in response to his tightening pants. Your ears burned, you couldn't focus and it was his fault.
Commenter: You're so cute and innocent! My Sunoo!
He read the comment out loud and smiled at the camera, making half a heart against his cheek and speaking in a somewhat high pitched voice, as a form of aegyo.
“Thank you!” He said, and shortly after the conversation took place, he ended the live, walking into the room where you found yourself, pushing you up against the wall roughly and beginning to sloppily kiss you.
At first there was nothing concerning about it, that was until you decided to be a bit of a tease and lightly massage his still covered dick, which you could tell was hardening.
“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling his pants tighten around his length, as he became desperate for more of you.
His finger found his way to your pants, undoing the buttons and rolling down the zipper, slowly lifting them from your thighs and taking them off of you.
That's how you ended up here, slammed against the bed cushion with your partner on top of you, grinding his dick into you with little to no compassion.
“Ne - Need you.” He groaned vaguely. His dick began to ache from the prolonged erection. His eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, assisting him in the removal of your clothing.
“Sunoo, don't tire yourself too much.” You said, making him nod though you knew he likely didn't put any sort of mind into what you said.
He lifted your leg, putting it over his shoulder as he practically slammed into you, showing zero mercy as he did so.
He lined himself up with you, starting to slide his long and thick friend into you however stopping due to the overwhelming tightness which had been wrapping around him. He cried in response, making you blush due to the sight of your sensitive lover.
“Shit Sunoo, so big and for what..?” You moaned, tears already flowing down your cheeks as he couldn't hold back his chuckle.
“Please, I know you can take more than this.”
He was never this rough with you, you never even expected this from him.
You guessed it was supposed to be his warning as the very next thing he did was start rapidly slamming into you. It took you by surprise, immediately covering yourself with a pillow to reduce the noise of your loud screams.
This was the same man who rarely ever initiated physical contact with you due to the fact he felt shy about it, he rarely ever intertwined your fingers together and he always preferred to have safe sex over anything.
But today, he was abusing your walls harshly, with a force you weren't even aware he had. His cock was bare and the simple thought of it made your stomach tangle into tight knots, ready to snap at any given moment.
“Sunoo-” you moaned, needing to stop in order to catch your breath. “I'm.. close.” You muttered.
His pace slowed down, making you cry in desperation at the sudden disappearance of feeling.
“I'm not done yet.” He hissed, which was enough to scare away the building up orgasm and make you sink back into the mattress, nodding in understanding.
He picked up his pace once more, this time leaning down to kiss your chest, flicking your nipples as his tongue toyed with the other; you held your mouth, once more feeling those tight knots forming in your stomach.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, uncontrollable tears flowing down your sensitive skin.
“My poor baby,” He teased, “I'll be done with you soon, no worries.” He reassured, landing another kiss onto your nose. You nodded in understanding, preferring to remain silent; it wasn't like you could even say anything.
“Fuck- Y/n, I'm close.” He said, feeling his dick reach its limit before cumming, making a mess all over you.
He picked up his pace, feeling his parts squish against your soft outsides, causing him to let out loud moans and screams.
You both came at the same time, he fell onto you making you wrap your arms around him, cuddling him.
“Thank you..” he muttered, leaving his cock inside of you, allowing it to rest in the depths of your warmth.
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dwonfilm · 2 months ago
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Teaching tech. | Soldier Boy x Reader
Summary: Butcher tasked you with the job of teaching a freshly thawed Ben, aka Soldier Boy, how to use technology. First off you started with teaching him about the iPhone.
Warnings: bit of Solider Boy being Soldier Boy but otherwise, mostly fluff.
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“Dammit!” [Y/N] heard Ben’s voice from the other room and she sighed. Next was a smash and that made her rush back into the bedroom. Immediately Ben’s eyes lifted up to see her coming in and he scoffed. “I didn’t break the cocksucking thing this time.” He stated plainly. “Good,” she answered. “I don’t have the money to buy you a fourth phone.” She moved to sit on the bed next to where he was currently sitting. “This shit ain’t a phone, it’s a thin ass rock with futuristic shit inside. Phones have a base and a receiver or they were these massive bricks with buttons—not whatever the fuck a touch screen is-“ Ben ranted, but [Y/N] just laughed. “Yeah, they were those things once but this is 2022. Life’s changed a lot and eventually you’re gonna need to learn all these things.” She spoke, picking up the phone that was on the bed between them, swiping up to unlock it. Bits of her [Y/H/C] hair covered her face while her attention focused on the screen. Ben just watched, a grumpy expression on his facial features. “How’d you get stuck doing this anyway? Where’s the Cum Guzzler or the Cheerio?” She laughed, Ben’s nicknames for people were always pretty humorous. “Hughie is scared of you and Butcher can barely explain anything in the entire history of life’s existence.” Ben gently laughed at her answer. Fingers moved across the screen, making selections that she didn’t think were necessary to explain to him at the moment. “So, the bean pole’s afraid of me huh?�� He asked, not really expecting an answer. However it did bring up another question. “Why aren’t you scared of me?” His tone seemed indifferent but there was a hint of something more inside his eyes. Something she was oblivious to since her own were focused on the screen of the phone in her hands. Though, she slowly gazed up from it for a moment. “Honestly,” she began with a pause directly after. It was as if she was attempting to think about how to answer him. “I was at first, a little bit, but I just try to sympathize.” He scoffed almost immediately. “You sympathize with a piece of shit like me? No wonder it’s so easy to get you women in the sack. Jesus Chris-“ She turned her head and shot a glare at him. “You can sympathize with people without wanting to fuck them, for starters.” She rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to the phone in her hands. “No one’s perfect, not that it’s excusing.. well everything. Despite all that, no one here has any real room to judge too harshly.” Ben quirked a brow at that. “That so? Don’t tell me a pretty lil’ thing like you has baggage!” Part of him was sort of mocking her, though he was getting curious. “Moving on, I made the email for you and set up an account for you to use the phone.” She began to explain, looking over to him but finding a confused expression on his face. “E-what?” He asked plainly, green eyes gazing into her own. “Right, I forgot you have no grasp on the basics.” She turned towards him now.
“Email is pretty easy, it’s like sending letters to people—only digitally and in a much faster time period. It used to take y’know, days, weeks for those to be delivered. Now it just takes seconds—also instead of a home address you just need their email address. Does that make sense at least somewhat?” Her voice was gentle, not sarcastic or cruel. [Y/E/C] eyes meeting his green ones as he was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.. I mean it seems straightforward enough—though doing that stupid shit is gonna be harder than understanding what the fuck it is.” He answered. “Well, yeah, but we’ll get there.” [Y/N] offered a half smile at him. “No one’s asking you to be Steve Jobs after a day,” she tried to encourage him but his face was blank yet again. “Who the fuck is that?” He asked, to which she sighed gently. “…never mind, it’s not important. What I meant is that none of us are expecting you to know how to use it all within the blink of an eye.” She replied before moving her gaze back to the phone. He peered over at the phone while knitting his brows together. None of it made any sense to him. Now the screen was black again, before the stupid symbol popped up. “..the fuck is it doing now?” He asked, moving his glance to her face. “It’s updating the software,” she spoke before shifting it to an analogy he’d understand. “..which is like maintenance on a car kind of—it makes sure everything’s working and also is.. replacing the parts in a sense. Fixing things that weren’t working and replacing them with things that will work and hopefully work better.” It took a second, but the analogy did help. “Makes sense I guess.” He spoke, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes watched for a moment before he became bored, so, he did what he usually did and turned his attention to whoever was occupying the space with him. “So tell me, how’d a gorgeous gal like you get tangled up with a fucker like Butcher anyhow?” She laughed softly but she didn’t look up at him this time. Mostly to hide the fact that she was blushing just a little. [Y/N] knew that she shouldn’t be feeling this way, by all accounts this man was still Soldier Boy. He wasn’t a good person, but the more she spent time with him the more she realized he was letting her see the man behind the persona and maybe.. maybe there was more than what he’s done in the past. After all she was preaching sympathy just moments prior. “Flattery will not get you out of the tech lesson, but since it’s updating you’ve got a little wiggle room.” She took a gentle breath before beginning to tell a very condensed version of events. “Becca, Butcher’s wife, she was my mom’s best friend. When my mom got killed in a car wreck, Becca sort of.. became my maternal figure.” Ben nodded, feeling some of the strings attached to his heart pulling. “I’m sorry about that, doll.” It was the least he could say. “Where the hell was your dad?” He asked, not knowing subtly if it were to bite him on the ass. She sighed gently. “Couldn’t tell you, never met him.” Ben could sympathize with that in a way, his own father being a piece of shit and all. “Sorry ‘bout that too.” He spoke, keeping his gaze on her own. She simply nodded before the phone’s screen lit up in the bright colors again, signifying that the software update had been completed. Picking the phone up, [Y/N] swiped up to begin the process of actually setting things up. “Okay, back to this-“ she spoke but was immediately cut off by Ben’s loud groaning. “Fuck sakes, is this really necessary?” He grumbled, which caused the woman next to him to roll her eyes. “You already know the answer to that.” Again he grumbled, acting like a mix between a grumpy old man and a stubborn child. “If this was forty years ago and some fine piece of ass was trying to tell me I had to do somethin’..” She turned and her [Y/E/C] eyes met his face with a pointed glare. There was a momentary pause as Ben contemplated whether or not to continue.
However, he was mischievous by nature and so he opted to continue on with his train of thought. “..I’d have grabbed her by her pretty little chin and talked her into getting on her knees so I could show her a better way to use that mouth.” [Y/N] again rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she brushed it off and moved on immediately though Ben was wearing a little smirk. “Picturing it, aren’t ya’?” He asked, clearly attempting to make the woman flustered. She turned her gaze back towards him with a blank expression upon her face. “Picturing me, punching you in the face? Absolutely I am.” She answered, which had Ben’s smirk fall completely. “You new age women, chicks in my day would’ve been creaming their panties at the chance to get with Soldier Boy.” Ben grumbled, irritation showing on his face. It was amusing to [Y/N] that he thought he’d get her to crumble so easily. Pushing herself up into a better position she’d lean the phone towards the Supe. “Alright, so I made two emails—one has the Soldier Boy name on it, just in case there’s.. I don’t know people that have business offers or something. Granted, that’s if we all live and you don’t get thrown into jail or whatever they do to other Supes and the other is for, well, more personal shit. That’s the one I was telling you about when I mentioned it initially, the one that’s tied into everything on the phone. I downloaded some stuff but now you need to try it.” She handed the phone over to Ben, praying he wasn’t gonna break this one. It was clear that he was trying to hold it gently, which would’ve made her giggle out loud—however the man was in an overly sensitive state and she wasn’t going to push that. “Alright, so tap the icon that says ‘App Store’ and wait for it to open.” [Y/N]’s voice was gentle and Ben nodded, putting his finger over the square with that name underneath it. However he left it there and so the apps began to all shake. “What the fuck is happening?!” He exclaimed, to which she gently moved her hand and pressed the button labeled ‘done’. Now the apps went back to being still and she sighed. Gently she grabbed his index finger and lightly pulled it towards the screen again, Ben wanted to grumble but he was too distracted by how her fingers felt against his own. Where his skin was rough, battle tested and calloused.. hers was soft, maybe a scar here and there but nothing compared to his and the contrast? It was more enjoyable than he’d ever admit out loud. [Y/N] pulled his finger down toward the screen and gently tapped it against the screen to open the app. “You just gotta tap, see.” She spoke, letting go of his finger. “Huh.” He replied, but it wasn’t very loud. “Now typing on these things is probably gonna annoy you, it annoys us all and we’re used to the technology. Just.. try to not freak out and break it yeah? Shit is easy for you to snap, given y’know..” After she said that, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. When she did Ben felt himself smirking just a little. There was a split second where their eyes met and lingered, before she spoke up again. “Alright, so if you just click on this one it’ll take you to the place where you can download them. I think most things that are necessary for now are already there but I wanted you to know how to do it, so.. you like sports right?” She asked, tone kept gentle. “Uh, yeah, obviously little less on the up and up these days.” He replied, to which she nodded. “Alright well type in ‘MLB’ right there in that search bar, click it first though.” [Y/N] explained and for a moment Ben just stared at her, as if she had three heads. Eventually though he moved his gaze to the phone and tapped the screen over the search bar, which brought up the keyboard. “So.. these fucking things are called apps?” He asked, typing the three letters slowly into the bar and then she pointed to the blue button labeled ‘search’, which he tapped before looking up at her again.
“Yeah, they have one for just about everything these days.” She replied, pointing to the button that said ‘get’. Ben tapped it and the symbol to signify it was downloading appeared. Once it had finished, she smiled slightly before reaching underneath his arm for a second. “So, to close an app, you just swipe up like this.” Gently she placed her thumb on the screen and swiped upward to bring the phone back to the Home Screen. “Now, that closes it for the moment. Swiping up in a short motion brings up all the open ones like this-“ she explained, demonstrating. “Once they’re up like this you can swipe up again and fully close them.” She closed all of the currently open apps to demonstrate to him how to do it. “You really think I’m gonna remember all this shit?” He asked, almost glaring when he looked in her direction. It was a lot of information to take in, so she took a gentle breath and locked the phone. “Okay, fair, let’s take a break then.” [Y/N] placed Ben’s phone on the bed between them and slowly pulled out her own. He couldn’t help it, curiosity took hold and he glanced over. “You can put pictures on that thing?” He asked, noticing her Lock Screen photo of a drawing of the moon. Quirking a brow for a moment, she then figured out what he meant. “Oh, yeah! You can. Did you wanna do that on your phone?” Her voice was sweet as their eyes met yet again, bringing back the slight tension that continued to linger between them. “Fuck it, shit looks better than whatever the fuck it comes with.” He replied after a moment or so of silence. “Do you have anything specific you want?” She reached up with her free hand and tucked some of her [Y/H/C] hair behind her ear. Ben’s expression was pensive for a moment or so as he tried to think of anything he’d like to have as a background on the phone. “I dunno, just find something badass—none o’ that girly shit.” She shook her head before thinking herself, trying to figure out something she could use. “I’m gonna go take a leak.” He spoke up, pushing his frame up and off of the bed before grumbling about something and making his way over to the bathroom door. Once he’d closed it, she thought for another second before smiling to herself. Lifting the phone up at a decent angle, she quickly opened the camera app and primped herself slightly—snapping a couple of pictures of herself right after. Flicking through the few she found the one she liked the most and made it his Lock Screen wallpaper. Thumbs darted across the screen and within another two minutes or so, spent entirely on Google, she’d found a nice photo of Ben’s shield. It worked well for a Home Screen.
It wasn’t long after that [Y/N] heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, seconds passing before the door was pulled open and Ben re-entered the bedroom. Lifting her gaze up to meet him, his green eyes held something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She gently laid his phone onto the mattress and kept her attention on him while he sat back down onto the bed. “Are we doing more of this shit? ‘Cause I think my fuckin’ brain might implode.” His voice was deep, housing a distinct rasp to it. [Y/N] couldn’t help but to chuckle at the old man antics he was displaying before answering the question. “No, I think we’ll save some lessons for another day. After all, there’s much more than just the phone you’re gonna need to learn.” After she’d spoken, he groaned for what felt like the millionth time. “It’s amazing how you bounce between acting like a senior citizen and acting like a teenage boy.” Her voice held a humorous tone as she again chuckled, it was Ben’s turn to now offer her a pointed glare but there was definitely a layer of amusement behind it. Just as he was about to offer up a retort, the bedroom door was pushed open and Butcher popped his head in. “Oi [Y/N], need ya’ to come help Frenchie with a little project.” His accent was thick and his eyes held a wild expression that was pretty standard for the man. [Y/N] sighed and slowly pushed herself up from the mattress, but turned towards Ben with a gentle smile. “If you have any questions just.. come find me.” He nodded, because his brain wasn’t sure how to react to the little smile on her lips. Sure there was a lot of unholy and downright vulgar thoughts swimming around in his noggin about her, there had been since he laid eyes on her—however there was something more that lingered and that was causing a short circuit in his mind. She turned back to the Brit and groaned. “This better not be anything messy because the last time-“ she was cut off by Butcher’s laugh. “It ain’t, I swear.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes as the two left the room, closing the door behind them. After a couple of minutes Ben remembered [Y/N] lecturing him about locking the goddamned phone, but she had left it unlocked. Pushing the button he heard the clicking noise, but tapped onto the screen to make sure he hadn’t accidentally turned it off somehow—and that’s when he saw it. There underneath the time and the other bullshit, was a picture of her and her smiling face. Since he was by himself, he didn’t have his guard up and his lips curled upward into a smile. “Pretty lil’ lady.” He spoke out loud, his heart feeling something he’d not felt in quite some time.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi guys! I am soooooo sorry about how long this took. Between writer’s block and my fear of it sucking, I was just struggling for a while. This is my first attempt at writing for Ben so if it’s bad, I’m sorry! He’s a more complex character to nail in writing and hopefully I’ll get better at it over time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
• —�� ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @jc-winchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·
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