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daydreaming-nerd · 1 year ago

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 1

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: I just got this request and I absolutely LOVE it. I have no idea how many parts it will be because it's really parking my imagination. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): SA

Word count: 2765

(all photos are from pinterest)

It was like being born, even though I was the ripe age of 435. Well, ripe in the years of fae. It felt like being born, in the sense that I can’t really remember what came before that passing shade of violet. The way his eyes bore into me, and in that moment I knew he felt the tug too.

Mates.

I reeled for days, the peonies of spring my only console, my brother had always been so absent minded and utterly consumed with being High Lord. How could the cauldron be so cruel? To mate me to the High Lord of the Night. I spent the next week thinking it had to be a mistake, that my bored mind was playing tricks on me. Yet when the council met the week following, his eyes found me immediately, and I think in that moment I saw him for the very first time.

I didn’t dare approach him, far too shy and afraid to approach the Lord of Night. Not just because of what he was, but because of what my brother would say. By basic necessity Tamilin was a good brother, he doted upon me, kept me safe, gave me free roam of the palace. But there was a darkness about him I couldn’t place. It started when he disappeared with our father one night only to come back with two sets of Illyrian wings. I knew whatever happened was wrong, but as a woman in the spring court, I knew better than to open my mouth. Needless to say, Tamlin became High Lord of Spring shortly after, and from the wings mounted on our family walls I knew we had but one enemy, the night court.

It wasn’t until the third council meeting (the third I was allowed to attend, after I begged my brother to let me go) that the High Lord of Night finally sought me out.

My brother was busying himself with the politics of Day and Summer, talking the heads off of Helion and Tarquin. I kept to the shadows naturally, avoiding any untoward advances from other High Lords. I tried to stay hidden in my pocket of introvertedness, but then I felt him, and my skin buzzed, like it needed to be touched, to be held.

“You felt it too right?” he purred into the shell of my ear causing the buzzing of my skin to become electric.

“I did,” I admit pathetically.

“And you feel it now too,” he whispers as I finally turn to face him. The violet of his eyes pierce my soul and I’m left speechless and unable to move from their gaze. He’s otherworldly, he’s everything, and he’s also completely forbidden.

“Do you?” I ask, hoping that whatever answer he gives can validate the fire in my bones.

“I do,” he muses like he loves the game. “Your brother killed my family. He is my sworn enemy and I should hate you.” he breathes. I can feel his resolve slipping along with mine, for every statement he makes I can make an opposing one, “but all I want to do is kiss you right now.” he finishes.

Fire runs through my veins as a sharp breath passes my lips. I feel my brother's presence and I evade myself from the High Lord of Night’s cage. My brother whisks me off to the Spring Court once more, but not before I glance back one last time to see that shade of violet I had already learned to look for in a crowd.

That was a week ago.

I stand in the foyer of the castle with my brother and Lucien as we prepare to join the council once again this week.

“You look ravishing as always,” Lucien muses, eyes wandering me like they’re hungry.

“It’s not often my brother lets me out of the house, I have to make a good impression somehow,” I say backhandedly. All I get in return is a sideways glance from Tamiln as we are taken to court. Today the meeting resides in Tarquins’s court. It changes once a week to allow all High Lord’s to have the upper hand. The sea salted mist hits my face and the warm rays of the sun tan my skin as we walk into the council.

When we arrive he’s already there. He stands out amongst the rest, not just because he’s dressed in black, but because he’s the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. The definition of a forbidden fruit. As if to tempt me, Tamilin unknowingly sits directly across from the High Lord of Night making it so I can’t lift my head without meeting the violet of his eyes. If you had asked me to recall the events the council discussed, I couldn’t, the only word left on my tongue was Night. Talk of tithes and power checks drifted over my head. The only thing to rouse me from my trance was the scraping of wooden chairs across marble floors, signaling that the council meeting had adjourned and that the more foundational political talks of High Lords would begin.

I took it as my queue to step out onto one of the many terraces of the Summer Court. The room where the council was held was stifling. I thought that the breeze of the ocean might cool my skin, but no matter where I went that deafening heat followed.

“I was hoping I would see you again,” purred a voice from behind me.

I turned to find that piercing violet once more. “Of course why wouldn’t I be at the council meetings?” I ask, trying to act like I won’t be replaying this conversation in my mind when I return to bed tonight.

“You’ve only been to four council meetings now, and your brother has a habit of keeping you locked up in the Spring Court.” he trails, drawing closer to the railing of which I’m leaning upon.

“Well I intend to be at all of them from here on out,” I state.

“Any particular reason why?” he asks with a playful tone in his voice and I know what he’s insinuating.

“Because I wish to be a part of the governing of my court, even though I am just a woman,” I say, evading his innuendo.

“That’s a shame if you were part of my court you wouldn’t have such phrases like ‘just a woman’” he states almost as if he’s upset with the phrase.

“I highly doubt that, women aren’t equals in any court,” I scoff.

“What about Kallias and Viviane?” he asks.

“What about them?”

“Kallias sees Viviane as his equal, she is his mate and his High Lady,” he explains, stepping even closer to me, close enough that my skin starts to buzz again.

“Viviane is special, everyone knows that,” I justify.

“And you’re not?” he muses and my skin goes from buzzing to electrifying in three words. I feel his fingertips grazing my hand as if asking for permission.

“My Lord we can’t do this,” I breathe out.

“Call me Rhysand,” he says, stepping even closer.

I step to the side, avoiding his advances, “My Lord, I won’t do this, I can’t do this.” I affirm.

I see him bristle from my reluctance to call him by his name, “You’ll give into the idea of us. When you’re lying in that cold bed high up in the spring court thinking of all the ways I could warm it for you. When you’ve spent the week with nothing but this conversation on your mind,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. “This time next week you will beg for me to touch you, and I’ll happily oblige, mate.”

I’m so taken aback by his words that I can’t even form a quick witted response, I simply slid away and tried my best not to look back at him as I felt his gaze pierce my back. I nearly slam into Viviane and Kallias.

“Y/n are you alright?” Viviane asks.

“Yes, just feeling the heat of the summer court,” I lie, fanning my face.

“Then you should come home with us today, it’s been so long since we had a girls night. I wish for your company." She smiles while taking my hand.

“Shall we go home sister?” Tamilin appears, Lucien in tow.

“Actually I think I’ll spend the night in the winter court with Viviane, she’s right,” I look at her and smile. “We haven’t had a girls night in quite a long time.”

“Very well, I won’t get in the way of your sinful gossiping,” Tamilin smiles and leads Lucien away with him.

If the summer court is sea salt and sun, then the winter court is pine and fresh fallen snow. Though they are opposites in every way, they are stunning in their own right, like all courts are. I’ve been here many times before to sit and talk with Viviane, she’s one of the only other ladies of nobility my age and a fierce friend. It’s not uncommon for me to spend a couple days here in the winter court, with Viviane and Kallias.

I sit among a bed of furs near a warm fire adjacent to Viviane as Kallias pours both me and his mate a glass of red wine.

“Thank you dear,” she smiles, kissing him on the cheek before he leaves us to gossip.

“You and Kallias really are a perfect match,” I beam and Vivianane knows me well enough to know that there's a sadness there.

“You’ll find it too someday, your mate. I know you will,” she assures me. “Now tell me, what of Lucien?”

I roll my eyes taking a sip of my wine, “He’s still insufferable. The other day he backed me into a wall and if one of my ladies maids hadn’t walked in I swore he would’ve had his way with me.”

She lets out an airy laugh, “I still can’t believe Tamiln allows him to play with you like that. He’s so fiercely protective of you with everyone else.” she says, taking a sip of her own wine.

“Lucien is his best friend, he wouldn’t deny him anything, even his little sister.” I point out.

“I suppose you’re right,” she smirks. The night is filled with goblets of wine and laughter as we continue to talk about the high lords of Prythian. We even go as far as to talk about her and Kallais’ sex lives, to which Kallias promptly came in laughing taking his wife to bed.

I trudge down the hall to the bedroom the High Lord and Lady had set aside just for me a few years ago. I fall into the plush mattress, the world slightly spinning around me. The second I am left alone with my thoughts I recall the feeling of Rhysand’s breath on my neck and I shiver.

The room spins and I feel my skin grow hot with need, my heart beats faster and my head is drunk with that shade of violet. My hand subconsciously drifts down my body.

You’re drunk? A voice cuts through my head.

I sit up right and look around the room. The only thing I find is the flickering of the fireplace against the walls.

The same voice chuckles and speaks again, No I am not in the room with you my mate.

“How are you doing this?” I ask in my head.

The daemati gift, and of course, I am your mate. The High Lord croons.

“Get out of my head” I grumble.

But you called for me, I can feel your… excitement.

“Then you're mistaken,” I hiss.

We both know that’s not true darling.

“Goodnight,” I groan, rolling over to go to bed.

Goodnight, darling

The following days are long. Despite my better wishes there is a part of me that yearns to see the High Lord of Night again. I waltz through the spring court, picking flowers for the dinner table and evading Lucien’s advances. At night I find myself obsessively reading the romance novels I keep beside my bed. On one night in particular a certain scene in my book makes my toes curl and my thighs clench. My fingers skim the pages and the roughness of them is almost heightened.

My my my, what a dirty book. That voice croons into my mind.

“Get out of my head,” I gripe.

I can’t help myself when I feel your body react as it does. He purrs.

“How on earth can you ‘feel’ my body?” I roll my eyes.

Like this.

A tug reverberates through my body. Like there’s a string in the pit of my stomach that he just pulled. The sensation causes me to lose a breath as further arousal goes to my legs. He lets out a dark chuckle.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I order him

But you loved it so much, He purrs and I can practically feel him smirking in my head.

“You’re an insufferable bastard High Lord,” I growl at his persistence.

Call me Rhysand.

“I see no reason to drop informalities, my lord.” I quip back.

My name will fall from your lips one day, and when it does I’ll be sure to swallow it with my own. Until then, I’ll leave you with this. Goodnight darling.

I feel another tug at the bond reverberating through me and I nearly let out a moan at the feeling. I snuggle into my sheets that suddenly feel as if they are constricting around my body. I toss and turn and try to push all thoughts from my mind, but I can’t stop the idea of the High Lord's lips on mine. His night black hair in my hands, the way his moans might fall from those lips.

The next morning I take my breakfast in one of the lounge areas, still reeling from last night. My thoughts still wander to the image of his face, and how his eyes light me on fire. The door opens and a head of auburn hair pokes in.

“Forgive me, I didn’t know you were in here,” Lucien says like he has regret, yet he sits down across from me.

“No worries, I'm almost finished eating,” I reply, placing my tea down and getting ready to get up..

“And I secretly hoped to spend some time with you,” he sighs, sinking into the couch.

“Perhaps later, I wanted to read in the garden,” I stand and make my way towards the door.

“Perhaps now,” he growls. I feel a cold hand grasp my arm hauling me into the wall.

“Lucien,” I hiss as my back is pressed into the wall, his frame looming over mine.

“You are such a tease,” he smirks before kissing my neck hungrilly. His hands roam my body pulling me impossibly close.

“I’ve never once given you any inclination that I wanted you,” I gripe at him.

“That’s what makes you so desirable my dear,” he practically moans into my neck.

I gather my strength and push him off of me, “I’ll remind you that I am Tamlin’s little sister and while he favors you his favor only goes so far. One word from me and he’ll send you back to the Autumn Court.” I growl at him, and it seems to be enough as he backs away and leaves me to reel from what just happened in silence.

I sit down on the couch and take deep breaths to ground myself.

What’s going on? Are you alright? That voice like glorious night cuts through my mind and I almost feel thankful for how it brings me back to reality.

“Yes I’m fine,” I say back.

What happened? I felt your fear through the bond.

“It’s nothing, just Lucien.” I dismiss him.

Did he touch you?

I almost swore I heard anger laced in his voice. “Well I am his favorite plaything,” I roll my eyes.

And Tamlin allows him to touch you like this?

“As long as my virtue isn’t completely compromised so that I am still of value when he inevitably marries me off, yes. He doesn’t care.” I divulge, and quite stupidly I realize.

As if I needed another reason to hate him.

“He is still my brother, my Lord,” I remind him, though I secretly feel the same.

Don’t you mean, Rhysand?

“No I don’t, my Lord,” I say, drawing out the last words.

I’ll see you tomorrow my darling, I relish the idea of seeing you in the golden light of the day court.

#rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #acotar #rhys acotar

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springtyme · 3 months ago

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𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 ♡

Spencer Reid x reader || Main masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: You spend a lazy sunday with Spencer.

word count: 765

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟕) 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

You stretch out on the couch, snuggled in a soft blanket, letting the warmth engulf you. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden glow across the living room. It’s a lazy Sunday, and the world outside seems to slow down, matching the rhythm of your day.

As you glance over at Spencer, who’s sprawled in the armchair, you can’t help but smile. He’s buried in a book—one of those dense, scholarly tomes that only he could find leisurely. His hair is tousled, and there’s a forgotten mug of coffee on the table nearby, steam still curling lazily into the air.

“Spence,” you call softly, your voice almost a whisper.

He looks up, his brown hazel eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Yes?” he replies, shifting in his chair, his attention torn between you and the captivating pages.

“What’s the topic today?”

He beams, the sparkle in his eyes intensifying. “It’s about the psychological impact of color on human behavior. Did you know that studies show blue can create a sense of calm?”

“No, I didn’t know that, but it’s interesting.” You chuckle, shaking your head playfully. “Only you would spend a Sunday learning about the psychology of colors, Spence.”

“Do you want to know more?” he asks, his voice animated, and you can’t help but love how passionate he is when he talks about his interests.

You sit up, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Sure, but first, there’s something we can do to test out that ‘sense of calm’ theory.” You gesture to the blanket, the soft blue fuss of fabric draped around you, inviting him over to join you.

He hesitates for a moment, torn between his book and you, but your smile is irresistible. With a small laugh, he sets the book down and pads over to the couch, slipping in beside you. You nestle against him, resting your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.

“This is much nicer,” he muses, leaning his head against yours.

You close your eyes, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy bubble. “So, tell me more about how colors affect our mood,” you say, nudging him gently to continue.

Spencer goes on, the words spilling out with delightful enthusiasm, but you find yourself drifting in and out of his explanations, comforted by the cadence of his voice. His talk evolves into a blend of colors, emotions, and the psychological associations various hues evoke. He mentions how warm colors, like red and orange, can elicit feelings of excitement and energy, while cooler colors, such as green and blue, promote relaxation and calmness. You listen, occasionally catching snippets of data and studies, but even more so, you’re enchanted by the sound of his voice and the way he lights up when he discusses his passions.

“Did you know,” he continues, his fingers gently stroking your back, “that yellow is often associated with happiness and optimism? But too much of it can actually lead to frustration and anxiety. It’s a delicate balance.”

You nod, slightly drowsy, but still invested in his words. “Sounds like colors are more complicated than I thought,” you murmur, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips.

As the afternoon rolls on, you both decide to take a break from deep discussions, opting instead for a movie. Spencer adeptly picks one from your collection, and you laugh when he chooses a quirky classic rom-com, probably unaware of the irony.

As the film plays, you snuggle deeper into the blanket, resting your head against Spencer’s shoulder, feeling the warmth radiate between you. The opening credits roll, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar soundtrack—the kind of feel-good music that reminds you of lazy afternoons spent on the couch together.

Spencer’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly as the movie unfolds. The lighthearted banter on-screen makes you chuckle, and you steal glances at Spencer, whose eyes twinkle with amusement. You appreciate these moments, finding joy not just in the film, but in the shared experience, the little moments of connection that weave your lives together.

As the credits roll, you find yourself wondering how you got so lucky. The day has been simple yet perfect, filled with laughter, warmth, and a sense of easy intimacy. You turn to him, brushing a stray hair from his forehead, and he looks at you with a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the afternoon light.

#springtyme writes #springtyme october challenge 24 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #flufftober #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid drabble #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine

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yan-lorkai · 5 months ago

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Aaa back to my origins, I missed writing for Chrollo, he is such an interesting character with some many layers to peel off. Got inspired to write this after doing a lesson for my course where me and my group were discussing about the meaning of life and, y'know, philosophical questions like this would get Chrollo debating for hours just so he could understand his darling opinions.

The room was dimly lit, the only light source was a flickering candle on a worn-out table - the room Chrollo rented this time left to be desired, quaint, old. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, creating an atmosphere that was both claustrophobic and eerie. And you were almost certain that you saw a roach running somewhere. You hated here.

Most of all, you hated him.

Chrollo's dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending even more chills down your spine. The air as always was thick with tension, one could not have a simple conversation with someone like him im peace.

He leaned forward, his shadows swallowing the light as he let his book rest on the table before turning to look at you again. You could almost see the gears turning on his head. Chrollo was calm and composed but there was something deeply unsettling about him — an aura of danger that lingered just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was his eyes. His very beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that were so similar to two black holes devouring and tainting anything they fell upon. He rested his chin on his hand, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed you, as he searched through your soul for something only he knew about.

"Entertain me, dear," Chrollo began, his voice smooth, almost gentle, yet laced with a sinister undertone, drumming his fingers against his leg, "What do you think is the meaning of life?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You hesitated, knowing that your answer could shape the course of this conversation. He liked doing that; giving you something to think about to mold you into who he thinks you should be. Chrollo was unpredictable, his mind a labyrinth of thoughts and intentions that were impossible to decipher, yet you were learning how to read his mannerisms.

If he could read you like an open book, then you should learn and do the same to him. Two can play this game.

He was a man who could kill without remorse, who was used to steal and take without feeling nothing for the victims, even then here he was, asking you to ponder something as profound as the meaning of life. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to curse him; the man who took you from your old life.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I think the meaning of life is… To find s purpose. To create something that gives our existence meaning, whether it's love, art, or even just surviving the challenges we face. Don't you think?"

Chrollo's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Purpose, you say? Interesting." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he considered your words. "But what if your purpose is tied to destruction, to chaos because the world failed you? Can that be considered a valid purpose?"

The question sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was getting at. Chrollo's life was one of bloodshed and mayhem, his purpose seemingly intertwined with the suffering of others. The thought of justifying such a life made your stomach churn, but you couldn't afford to show weakness.

Sometimes, you mused, Chrollo must think of you like a butterfly strapped to his table while he dissected you.

Or that's how you felt.

"Purpose is subjective," You replied carefully, your voice steady despite the unease creeping through you. "Some might find meaning in creation, others in destruction. But I believe it ultimately comes down to how we perceive our actions and the impact they have on the world around us."

Chrollo's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze becoming almost unbearable. "And what about you?" He asked, his voice soft but deadly serious. "What is your purpose? What meaning do you find in your life?"

The room seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder, more oppressive. You could feel the weight of Chrollo's expectations pressing down on you, as if he was daring you to give the wrong answer. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response that would satisfy him.

"My purpose..." You began, letting your eyes fall to your folded hands. You didn't have one, not anymore at least, he stole that and any chance that you could find it. "My purpose is to live. To experience everything life has to offer, the good and the bad. To find my own path, whatever that may be."

My purpose is to survive you, to kill you. But not yet, dear. You concluded mentally, imitating his tone.

Chrollo studied you in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the silence stretching out until it felt like it would never end. Then, slowly, he nodded, as if accepting your answer — though you couldn't tell if he was satisfied or merely amused.

"An admirable sentiment," He said finally, though his tone was laced with a special kind of amusement. "But remember, the path you choose may not always be under your control, life has a way of steering us in directions we never expected. I'm certain you're quite familiar with this."

Chrollo was a man who thrived on control, on manipulating the lives of others to suit his own ends. It annoyed you greatly that he liked to pour salt over the wound, teasing you about your current predicament.

This time you didn't look away. You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that threatened to consume you. If you were going to survive him, you needed to be strong, to show him that you weren't just another victim.

"I suppose that's true," You replied, forcing a small smile. "But I also believe we have the power to shape our own future, to defy and erase certain aspects of it."

Chrollo's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something dangerous flicker in his expression. "Perhaps," He nodded, his voice low and almost mocking. "But remember, in the end, the meaning of life may be nothing more than what we make of it… Or what someone else makes it for us."

The conversation ended with those words, the tension in the room slowly dissipating but leaving behind an unsettling feeling that lingered in your chest. Chrollo rose from his seat, his movements graceful and deliberate. He gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave, his presence as haunting as ever.

"I'll buy us something to eat, behave yourself in the meantime."

As the door closed behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts, the candle's flame flickering weakly in the darkness. The meaning of life, what did it matter in a world where someone like Chrollo Lucilfer existed, where lives were manipulated and discarded without a second thought?

You couldn't shake the feeling that, in his own twisted way, Chrollo had found his meaning right here and now.

And if he did, if he found his meaning, you didn't want to know what it was.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x y/n #yandere chrollo x you #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x y/n #yandere chrollo lucilfer x you #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #tw yandere #lorkai imagine

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httpknjoon · 1 year ago

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surprise, surprise | jjk

plot | When you asked what your boyfriend wants for Valentine's, Jungkook challenged you to surprise him. But when you did, he wasn't the only one surprised.

words | 2.1k+

genres | fluff, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

warnings | none

note | another part will follow :)) enjoy reading!

main masterlist | drabble series masterlist

It was a late afternoon, during a warm sunny day, you and your boyfriend finally went on with your picnic plans after weeks of talking about it. Under a lush shade tree, Jungkook laid out your classic red gingham picnic blanket. He also has pillows from his place, knowing that you would love to have one while chilling. On the flip side, you brought out the food from your basket which includes various colorful sliced fruits, sandwiches, chips, orange juice, and a bottle of chocolate syrup if ever your boyfriend wants to put it on his fruit.

It has been past an hour since you arrived at this spot in the park, half an hour away from the city you and Jungkook live in. So, with no worries about seeing your friends around, you two were free to basically do whatever you wanted on the grass. Jungkook brought his digital camera and you were already sure that half of the photos he took today are Bam’s. You were just giggling when you saw Jungkook trying to make your pet stand still with his green toy ball and sounds he learned from The Dogist, a dog photographer who posts every dog he meets online.

“One more, Bam. Stay…” he commanded as he closed his left eye to focus on his camera’s viewfinder.

Your pet, eager to have a treat and his toy, heeded. Followed by a shutter sound, you hear a satisfied chuckle from your boyfriend. He handed Bam a treat and then threw the ball for your pet to run after.

“How was it?” you asked, sipping on your glass of orange juice.

Jungkook turned around in your direction and instead of answering immediately, you found him staring at you. Used to him dazing out sometimes, you just smiled and took another gulp from your glass. Jungkook took this opportunity to point his camera lens to you. He moved around, finding the best angle where the light makes you glow from your greenery background. You were an angel before his sight. He clicks for your candid shot. When you hear the first shutter sound, you realize what he is doing.

“Wait! Take another one.”

This time, you smiled for the camera, making him smile behind the lens. After a couple more shots, he sat next to you to show you the results. By the small sound of awe you made, he knew you loved them.

“You’re such a great photographer, babe,” you told him.

“I just have a very beautiful muse,” he replied.

You looked up at him and he laughed when he saw your eyebrows scrunching together. Perhaps it was too corny and sweet. But your scrunched expression softened up before giving him a peck on his lips. He was about to lean in for more but you pulled away with a smile.

“You used to get girls with those lines?” you teased and laughed.

And before Jungkook can defend his game, Bam runs back with his toy in between his teeth. Half an hour passed, and the camera was now in your hands while Jungkook lay his head on your lap, scrolling through his phone. Bam is napping on the grass beside you two, tired from playing. The weather was not too hot since there was still wind blowing from time to time, perfect for a midday nap. With no more energy to take pictures, you settled his camera down. For the next few minutes, you spent the time running your fingers on Jungkook’s hair and appreciating the peace of the place. You can feel your heart feeling at ease.

“I can’t believe we’re already in the second month of this year,” your boyfriend suddenly spoke, eyes still glued on his phone.

“I know, babe. It seemed like yesterday when we celebrated New Year’s Eve at Dara’s and our anniversary,” you replied. “Then, we told Blaire about us.”

He put down his phone with that, looking at you, “We didn’t tell her, you did.”

You just rolled your eyes since you know you cannot really defend yourself. You were too drunk that night, Jungkook had to tell you what you shared with your friend the morning after. And after a whole-day conversation with Blaire, she agreed to not say anything about it and simply called you two “sneaky rats” in a teasing way.

“Anyway, Valentine’s Day is next week.” Jungkook brought up the topic, sitting up. “Do you want to do anything or go anywhere?”

“Well… we already did this picnic.” you clicked your tongue as your eyes traveled away, thinking.

And after a few seconds, an idea pops into your head. An activity you saw online that you found cute and perfect for you two. You beamed as you told him about it. Jungkook nodded as he listened intently, eyes traveling down his tattooed knuckles.

“I love that, we can do that! That’s wonderful, princess.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Do you already have any ideas about the design?”

You shook your head, “Oh, not yet.”

“Okay, okay.” he nods again,

You squeeze his hands, “How about you? What do you want to do?”

He looked up at the leaves on the tree as he sighed, “I don’t know… Really. That’s why I asked you. What you want is what really matters to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Really? Nothing?”

He nodded his head but not a second after, he spoke again, “Okay, I have an idea.”

“Okay, spill.”

“Surprise me,” he said like it was a challenge.

“Surprise you?” you repeated.

Looking back at your relationship, you were a little weak at doing surprises. You cannot really lie well and always see his reaction when you get him something meant for a surprise. But maybe you can try again.

“Okay, babe.”

“Isn’t this sad?” Wooshik sighed in between the film playing on the television. “It’s the day before Valentine’s. We are both single straight guys, watching Meryl Streep boss around people because we don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he added.

I do, Jungkook said in his head. Today is the thirteenth. It has been days since you two went on that picnic and he has been secretly waiting for your surprise. You didn’t want to give him a spoiler about it since you both know how bad you are at lying. So, you didn’t give him even a single clue.

And since it’s the day before that day, you and the girls in your friend group went out for your Galentine’s Day. You told him your activities for the day, which included going to a baking class and pampering yourselves in hair and nail salons. So, in return, he and Wooshik are pretty much shooed away when the latter begs to come with them.

“It’s for girls only! Go hang out together,” Jenny laughed.

So, they did. Initially, they planned on playing video games in Jungkook’s place. But after two hours of playing and having succeeding losses, they got exhausted and opted to watch a movie. The streaming service recommended a lot of chick-flicks so that’s what they settled for.

“This is fine. The girls are single too. A lot of people are spending tomorrow single.” he noted, focused on the film.

But Wooshik exclaimed, “But love is in the air! I don’t want to be lonely. Maybe we should pull up at a bar or something. Maybe we can have dates tomorrow.”

“I told you, I’m not into those things anymore.”

“Those things?! It’s called dating, JK. So you’re not into dating now?” Wooshik asked his tone in disbelief. Jungkook just laughed at his dramatic reaction. His friend continued, “What happened to my friend who used to introduce me to his new girlfriend every two weeks?”

Jungkook tossed him a pillow, smacking it right to his face, “Hey, people change!”

“You used to hold the record for most partners in a year in our friend group, JK.” Wooshik snickered.

“And now, I don’t. I’m happy where I am right now.”

“Blablabla. That’s something a person with a great high-paying job or a nice love life would say. And I don’t think your job pays you that high for you to say that.” Wooshik quipped while watching the movie again.

Jungkook laughs. He’s right. But Wooshik is not aware of how fun he is having with you. Your friend doesn’t know how much you made his life more than nice. You made his days a lot more warmer and brighter than it has ever been.

“And the girls are not really single. Jenny said she will be busy tomorrow–”

“She is. She works as a head chef in a restaurant. Tomorrow is like a festival in her workplace.” Jungkook cuts him off.

His friend snickered, “Okay, but she’s going on an occasional date with that same guy she met at a food convention. Blaire is having an on and off and on relationship with Grace. Dara is dating–”

“She is?” Jungkook asked.

Wooshik nods like it’s something he has known for a long time, “Yeah… and YN, I just know that one is seeing someone.”

Something in his stomach dropped when Jungkook heard that, “Yeah?”

“Remember when I stayed for like a week in her house when I had something renovated in my place? I swore I saw her sneaking out a guy one early morning.” his friend shared, clueless about the guy who was now sitting in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah, I just didn’t see him properly since the lights were off. But I heard YN talking to him.”

Yeah, it’s him.

Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Jungkook said, “You know what? Maybe we should go out.”

It’s like Wooshik’s ears perked up when heard that, “Where?”

“Just out. Maybe get something to eat or… I saw this new bowling alley opening up around the corner. We can walk there from here.”

Originally, Jungkook wanted to take you there first. But with his best friend being bored and talking about you and your relationship, he just thought of going to that place.

“Oh, okay. Maybe fate can find me a date there.”

Jungkook chuckled, getting up, “Okay, I’ll just take a quick shower. Then, we can go.”

Wooshik nodded and Jungkook walked away. Left alone in the living room, Wooshik reached for the almost-finished bowl of chips on the center table. He rarely watched chick flicks but he really liked this one. Maybe because of the lead actress. But nonetheless, he enjoys the story.

“I just don’t get why she has to leave her great job for Nate. I mean, he did not even support her when she was having growth in her work and she was in Paris!” Wooshik exclaimed as the screen showed Anne Hathaway walking away from her boss, portrayed by Meryl Streep.

The credits were rolling in when he heard the knock on the door. He was about to call his friend when he heard the distant trickling from his shower. Wooshik got up and opened the door, dusting off the cheese powder from the chips. A delivery guy stood in front of the door, holding a box of pretty flower arrangements.

“Delivery for Jeon Jungkook.” the guy said.

Confused, Wooshik had his mouth slightly open before answering, “Oh… uh, he’s in the shower. But I can receive this for him.”

“Okay. Please, sign here.”

The guy handed him a paper and Wooshik followed. After the flowers were handed to him, he said thank you and closed the door. His eyes scanned the whole arrangement filled with various flowers. A white folded card sat on top of it. As he carefully placed it down on the table, one question stayed in his head.

Who the hell would send flowers to his best friend?

So just like what any nosy, curious person would do, Wooshik flicked the card open.

Blooms for the best person I know.

I was with B in the flower shop and he helped me pick the flowers. I hope you’ll love them.

Know that this is the first of other surprises I’ve planned for tomorrow ;)

But firstly, let me ask you for the first time,

Babe, will you be my Valentine?

-Princess

Princess? Who the hell is Princess? Who is B? Is B a person? Did his friend have a baby and didn’t know it?

“Hey, let’s g– Oh, where did that come from?”

Jungkook came in, hair damp. His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers. Wooshik is frozen in place. His hand is still holding the card as he stares at him.

His eyes gradually squinted, “Who is Princess, and why is she sending you flowers?”

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @hisbutton-nose @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy16 @laylasbunbunny @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @petalsofink @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

#bts fluff #bts series #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts secret relationship au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook secret relationship au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook friends to lovers #our little private love affair

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adieutristana · 8 days ago

Note

Hi! Can you write something cute with alt! powder? Like reverse comfort. Powder feels bad on the anniversary of Vi's death, and reader, her romantic partner, tries to make her feel better

of course! thank you for the request <3

you guys must really like my hurt/comfort LOL it's most of my inbox rn! not complaining though hehe

summary; powder’s girlfriend comforting her on the anniversary of vi’s death.

characters included; powder (act iii au)

tags/warnings; death (duh), grief, hurt/comfort, fluff, s2 spoilers, implied that reader and powder were childhood friends

men dni.

the scent of myrrh clings to the air.

today marks eight years since the death of vi. one of zaun's most promising, a young fighter with a heart of gold. determined, strong, and loyal.

but most importantly, vi, your girlfriend's big sister. her protector, one she looked to for guidance and love. comfort in trying times, such as these.

your hand is rubbing gentle circles along the skin of powder's lower back, trying to offer silent reassurance. it hurts you to see your love like this. her shoulders slumped, eyes weary, her gaze fixed solely on a photo of her sister. one where she seems so vibrant, so full of life. she didn't have a clue what the world had in store for her, the fact that her life would end so prematurely. it wasn't uncommon, people dying young in zaun. but powder never thought it would be vi.

"i still don't think it's fair."

she mutters, tone more somber than angry. you nod slowly, your hand continuing its patterns across powder's back.

"it isn't. she was taken too early."

you respond. powder doesn't speak for another beat afterward, tugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them as she continues to look over vi's altar. the doll of her sister, various lit candles, incense wafting through the air. a few small belongings of vi's that powder had managed to recover- some jewelry, little trinkets, the like.

"do you think she'd be surprised to see where i am now?"

you hum, wrapping your arm around her shoulder loosely and pressing your girlfriend into you. you take a deep breath in before nodding in response.

"i think so, yeah. her little sister, all grown up... a genius of sorts, too. always creating, always thinking."

she lets out a little 'mm,' continuing to gaze over the memorial.

"it wasn't always jobs and fighting, she was sweet. we used to pillow fight in our room when we couldn't sleep, and vi would always let me win." powder muses, a light chuckle escaping her. "she helped me learn to read and write, even though i got confused on sounding out letters and couldn't figure out how to hold a pencil at first."

you laugh at that, looking back over at powder.

"yeah? well, she was a good sister. that much is obvious to anybody who knew her."

powder hums in agreement, but she seems to slowly tense back up. she begins to pick at her cuticles and bite the inside of her cheek as she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. your girlfriend's blue eyes turn back to you.

"do you think she'd be... proud?"

you nod again, without missing a beat. powder didn't even have to ask that question, honestly. it was obvious to anybody who knew her that her late sister would be thrilled with how far she had come in life, with how zaun had changed for the better and powder was an active participant in that change. she had gone from an unsure, anxious girl to a confident, innovative woman. with the help of friends, family, the very people who supported vi.

"she is, pow."

"how can you be so sure?"

she sighs, but lays her head against your shoulder. choppy blue locks splayed across, with a slender arm wrapping around your waist.

"just look at you," you pause, returning your gaze back to your girlfriend. almost as if to emphasize your point. "you're a smart, kind, creative, genius of a woman."

powder scoffs lightly, shaking her head. you can tell she's about to make some remark in protest.

"i mean it, babe. you're a far cry from the powder she knew, but that's a good thing. she'd be proud that you made something for yourself, that you're happy. that you're living in a better zaun than she knew."

powder lets out a heavy sigh, her eyes finally meeting yours. seeing her like this always chips at your heart a little. she missed her big sister every day of every year, but this day never gets easier. it likely never will, no matter how many more years pass. vi's death left a hole in the city of zaun, in the heart of vander, in you, but nobody had suffered the loss more than the girl before you.

"i wish she would've got to see it." she hums, looking back to the altar. the incense sticks are nearly burnt out, the smoke getting thinner. "zaun, i mean. it's changed so much since she last saw it. people can build a life here, we aren't so neglected or war-torn or... whatever. hell, even vander and silco made up."

she scoffs in light amusement, betraying her current emotions. it's hard, knowing exactly what to say. you love powder, you want her to be happy. you've always hated seeing her so torn by grief. but grief is weird in those ways, never fully going away. hitting full-force while powder is in the middle of a crowded room, or powder feeling completely alright for a few weeks before her sister's death hits her all over again.

yet you've always been there to remind her of everything- and the fact that you don't ever get over it per se, but build a life around the grief instead. something you believe powder has done a fine job of.

"i know you wish she could've seen it. but wherever she is, i think she knows somehow."

powder sighs, her shoulders slumping in mild disbelief.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean, we don't know for sure about life after death, or spirits or any of that stuff. but i think that somehow, vi knows her sister is doing well, and that zaun is a better place than she knew it as."

the incense is finished burning.

"i'll get those."

you say before your girlfriend can get up. she lightly huffs, but doesn't try to stop you. you stride over to the altar, grabbing a few loose incense sticks.

"i know today is hard for you, love... it always is. but i'll be here the entire time, okay?" you pause to strike a match, bringing it to the tip of a few incense sticks. "you can do whatever you need to. talk to me. sit in silence. whatever you need."

you slowly sit down back beside powder, wrapping an arm around her shoulder from the side and squeezing in light reassurance. she lets out a shaky breath before settling her head back onto your shoulder.

"the whole time?"

"the whole time, love. i promise."

she sighs, turning her head to brush her lips against the soft skin of your shoulder. today is hell in more ways than one, but you make the torment a little bit more bearable.

"i like that... yeah."

#arcane x reader #arcane x you #jinx x reader #powder x reader #reader insert #sapphic

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tarithenurse · 2 months ago

Text

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

#fanfiction #mcu #loki x reader #marvel cinematic universe #fanfic #x reader #loki #marvel #Loki Odinson #pining #fluff #writing

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taylorswiftstyle · 1 year ago

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The Tortured Poets Department | April 19, 2024

Saint Laurent 'Silk Tank Top' - $650.00 The Row ‘Ausra Brief’ - $790.00

Our first look at a new era.

With so little to go off of, there’s still much to parse here. Between the bedsheets, the pose, and (of course) the clothes - a pair of briefs and a slinky tank falling off the shoulder - to me evokes a combination of both intimacy and guardedness. Soft and vulnerable, but a little careworn and protective. This is the balancing act I think Taylor’s been playing with her whole life (an open heart revealed through deliberate acts) but feels painted in a more (pun intended) black and white way on this album cover. Even the sheerness of the top that plays with transparency, but only how much she permits, strikes me.

And, it turns out, Taylor wearing The Row (and toting a few new YSL bags too) so much over the last few months was no coincidence (is there ever one with Taylor, really?). Her cozy selects appear to be (as confirmed by her stylist) to be this sheer tank and ribbed brief by YSL and The Row.

While there’s so much about this album’s themes and sound that we don’t know - it’s of course fun to guess! The idea of the tortured artist to me sounds like it has the opportunity to explore the self-loathing andthe satire Taylor has previously toyed with on both "Anti-Hero" and "Blank Space". Both the sincere truth of self-analyzing a life of being a tortured poet herself while also poking fun at the muses in her life who have aped at being tortured poets - perhaps delivered with a tongue firmly in cheek accompanied by a smirk and an eyeroll.

I’m excited to see what awaits us and learn more about this project as well as your Critically Kind thoughts.

Editorial Note: Original cover image captured by Beth Garrabrant - Taylor’s album photographer since folklore. In place of Beth’s image, for which she retains rights, I’ve commissioned a lovely demonstrative illustration by the talented Amelia Noyes.

#taylor swift #photoshoot #top #shorts #ysl #saint laurent #the row #april 2024 #ttpd

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mischievousmoony · 6 months ago

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𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. your first day goes very poorly . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 5.1k

⟢ warnings: there is talk about the reader's previous hostile home environment, although it's not pictured. walburga black is implied to be mentally unstable. a theme here is the lasting impact growing up in that environment has on a person: reader fears becoming like her parents, longs for a more loving environment, doesn't handle her emotions very well, and picks fights. both anger and sadness are dealt with unhealthily by different characters. if there is anything i should add here, please please let me know.

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: well! yikes! angst! i'm not sure i like the vision but i’m trying to remind myself this is a hobby and doesn’t have to be perfect <3

“A walk?” You questioned with a raspy voice.

“Mhm,” James nodded, “Just around the yard. Think it’ll help you feel better.”

You let James lead you to the back door, hand and hand. When he opened it, you discovered that “yard” was a bit of an understatement. The Potters’ property was larger than you knew— enormous, really. Lush garden beds thrived nearest to the house, and the grassy green beyond was surely where James practiced quidditch over the summers. The large trees scattered around the outskirts of the property made you picture a younger James climbing them.

James led you into the grassy landscape, taking notice of your awestricken expression as your eyes fall on Euphemia’s garden.

“I knew you’d like it out here.”

“It’s beautiful,” you mused, stopping to admire a bed of flowers. James dipped down and plucked one from the ground.

He fit it behind your ear and winked, “Don’t tell my mum.”

You frowned, reaching up to remove the flower from your hair. You twirled it inbetween your fingers.

“Your mum must think so poorly of me now,” you muttered, staring down at the flower.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“The first thing Sirius and I did after we were invited to stay is have a screaming match in the dining room. We sure know how to make ourselves feel at home,” you laughed bitterly. “And now she knows we’re together. Didn’t even get to properly tell her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me.”

“Hey, look at me.” James said in a stern but gentle voice. You wonder how all the Potters can sound so kind even when they’re working up to a lecture.

You peered up through your eyelashes. James sported a pretty smile, and that alone made you feel a little better.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said, “My mum’s not one to jump to any conclusions. She trusts me, alright? And don't worry about your fight with Sirius. No one's expecting this to be easy for you. For either of you."

James continued, “Besides, we all let our emotions get the best of us sometimes, yeah? We’re human. My parents will understand.”

James could tell you over and over again that it’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to slip up, but you didn’t think any amount of it would ever make it feel okay. You wondered how he could even believe it.

It surprised you, actually, how mature and level-headed James could be. We’re human so it’s just okay if our emotions get the best of us sometimes? Who actually thinks like that?

At your house, you had to be nothing short of perfect at all times. Now that you’ve seen Fleamont and Euphemia in parent mode, you can see where James learned it all. You never had anything like that, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around it.

Especially because it wasn’t too long ago that James was one of Hogwarts’ biggest trouble makers—his pranks were the epitome of immature. Evidently, he's grown up a lot recently.

Stupidly, you felt bitter about it. Which was completely absurd, you thought. Because surely you were not jealous of your boyfriend because he learned how to regulate his emotions better than you did. Because he was growing up, maturing? And you… well you don’t know what you’re doing. You felt stuck, like you’d always be a scared little kid who needs her older brothers’ no matter how old you got.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, not really knowing what else to say. You were compelled to change the subject, “I’m worried about Regulus.”

“I know,” James began leading you around the garden again. You dropped the flower back where it came from, not wanting to be caught red handed with a freshly murdered flower from Effie’s garden.

“We have to get him out of there,” you sighed.

James looked at you through the corner of his eye. Apprehensively, he said, “From what Sirius told me, you guys barely got out of there.”

“Yeah, so we’ll need a really good plan so that we don’t get caught.”

James turned his head to look straight at you. He looked at you like you had two heads.

“What, you want to break him out or something? You want to go back there?”

“We have to. Regulus–“

“Regulus made his choice.” James interrupted warily.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, “Please, not you too.”

“You heard what Sirius said. Regulus was given the option, and he chose to stay behind,” James tried to reason.

James knew how much your twin meant to you, it wasn't a surprise that you'd be worried about him. But to go back to that house? That was a step too far for his comfort. The moment that Sirius admitted exactly what his mother had done to him, James knew he'd never let either of you near her again. Something must've snapped in Walburga Black— she has been teetering on the edge for years, but she has unmistakably gone from being a cruel mother to an outright unstable woman.

The though of Regulus still being around her made him sick. Even though James didn't know him that well, he still found himself caring about him. It was likely an extension of your love for Regulus manifesting in James, who cared for you so deeply that your concerns became his. But that's just it— you're the one who he really cared for. Above all else, it's you he wanted to protect.

“He did not choose to stay behind,” you raised your voice, offended that James could ever think so.

“Love...”

James didn't mean to, but he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if he thought you were in denial.

Anger flared up in your chest when you registered his expression, “No, don’t do that. Just because Sirius said so doesn’t mean it’s true. Regulus wouldn’t just choose them over us. Sirius– he doesn't have his facts straight.”

James didn’t say anything. What could he? It sounded like you were implying that Sirius was lying and James knew Sirius wouldn't do that.

For the record, you didn't think Sirius would lie either. But he was absolutely capable of missing something.

“You don’t believe me,” your mouth hung open after your words.

“It’s not that.” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I believe Sirius too. And Sirius said that Regulus refused to come. Whatever the reason, that's the choice he made. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger for a– a lost cause.”

His words stopped you in your tracks.

“A lost cause?"

You had never been so affronted by James. He might not know Regulus nearly as well as he knows you or Sirius, but the fact that he could easily tag him as a lost cause was unbelievable.

"Don’t be an idiot, James. How could you say that?”

James had kept walking for a couple more paces, so he had to turn to face you. He tried to cover the way the venom in your voice made him flinch.

“You can’t force him to leave,” he said, sounding as understanding as he could muster, but he needed to get through to you.

Phantom alarm bells were ringing in his ears, his desperation for you to hear him growing. You were stubborn and you'd do anything for your brothers, James knows this all to well. But not this. He couldn't let you do this. He wouldn't let you go back there.

“Merlin, you’re siding with Sirius!” you accused, giving in to the anger burning in your chest.

James tried to remain calm as he spoke.

“I’m not siding with anyone.”

“Yes, you are! How could I be so stupid? Of course you’d choose Sirius over me!"

James features twist in anguish, "Love–"

"This is what I get for falling for my brother’s best friend. When there's a choice, it will always be him, won’t it?” You spat, glaring at James in a way that almost knocked him off his feet.

He was completely taken aback; you two had never fought like this. He tried to take some semblance of control over the situation, “Okay, you’re angry right now, and that’s okay–“

“Oh, would you stop that!” you shouted. A small part of you hoped the sound wouldn’t travel back to the house, but a bigger part of you was consumed with a growing rage. That part didn’t seem to care.

“Stop what?” James knitted his brows.

“Being some master of emotions all of a sudden! I’m accusing you of picking Sirius over me! I’m raising my voice at you! I’m calling you names! Why won’t you fight back? Yell at me, do something!”

James took a deep breath, “I’m not going to do that.”

He sounded completely calm and collected. Somehow, that pissed you off.

“Oh, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”

“What?” James felt like he was going crazy, unable to decipher what he could possibly be doing wrong.

“Perfect James Potter, wouldn’t hurt a fly these days! You could never–! never lose your cool, could you?” you shouted.

James gaped at you. He couldn't be mad even if we wanted to; he was just confused. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? You yourself didn’t even seem to know what you were saying, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you said things even you knew weren’t true.

It’s not like James never lost the reign on his emotions. He throws his quidditch gear around when he loses a match, he can’t control his frustration when he doesn’t do well in class, he isolates himself when he’s sad instead facing it, he does a whole lot of things that he’s not proud of.

And you’ve seen it all before, but for some reason, you’ve chosen not to remember those moments. All you can think about is how you were so angry and scared, and he was so understanding and level-headed. And how you grew up with screaming matches and unfair punishments, and he probably got to grow up with calm discussions and soft spoken apologies. And it all felt so unfair.

“Are you–? Sorry, you're mad at me because I'm not getting mad at you? I’m sorry, I guess?”

“I don’t want you to be sorry I want you to yell at me! Be mad at me, fight with me!” You felt the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes.

James looked shellshocked. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with you like this, he’s never seen this before. Sure, sometimes you bicker— all couples do— but this was reaching an uncharted territory.

"I'm not going to yell at you for wanting to keep your brother safe–"

"Then yell at me because you think I'm naive for thinking I can get him out of there. Fight with me because I think you're an idiot for thinking Regulus is a lost cause!"

You were trying to rile him up, James knew this, and he so badly wanted to not let if affect him. Not because it was making him angry, no, it was making him sad.

But he couldn't fight it.

And James always does the same thing when he's sad.

“I think we need to take a step back from this conversation. Why don’t we go inside?” James offered.

He sounded like he stole that line from some therapist's book on navigating conflict. It made you want to scream.

“You go inside! I’m going to keep walking.” You pushed past him, deliberately letting your shoulder collide with his as you stormed away.

James let the blow knock him back a step, too thrown off to do anything else. He listened to your receding footsteps and he wanted to be the type of boyfriend who runs after you when you’re upset. Who holds you and listens to you until you can work out the problem. Instead—

“Just stay by the house, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever.”

A few hot angry tears slid down your face. You aggressively wiped them away and willed any more tears to dry up. You were tired of crying.

You stomped around the gardens and grass, thinking of Regulus and how he deserved better than siblings who left him behind to find refuge with a boy who wouldn't think twice about rescuing him too.

Leaving that house was something you'd always dreamed of. But you had imagined both of your brothers by your side. No one was ever supposed to be abandoned.

Sirius just didn’t understand how horrible being alone in that house was. You and Regulus had already experienced a taste of it when he went off to Hogwarts a year before you two. Not to mention, Sirius was always the strongest of you, so without him, navigating that house was a whole new terrain.

Maybe that’s what Sirius senses is different about your relationship with Regulus. Those nine months were probably the worst of your life, and Reg is who you went through them with.

And maybe that's why you were so adamant that Regulus can’t be left there alone while everyone else seems ready to abandon all hope. Your parents had never been more furious than when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago. You suspected that they would be worse, angrier than ever after the departure Sirius orchestrated for you and him. You couldn’t let Regulus face that alone.

Somewhere along the line, worry for Regulus took precedence over the anger that held your gentle love for James hostage. By the time you came to a large trees on the outskirts of the lawn, the anger from the previous argument had simmered.

As you plopped down in the dirt and sat against its trunk, you tried not to be annoyed that taking a step away from that conversation really worked.

You took in your surroundings to distract yourself. It was to no avail, as a nearby shed caught your eye. Through its open window, you could see James’ broom and other quidditch gear.

“You idiot,” you chastised yourself aloud. You let your head fall into your hands as a million nasty thoughts about yourself raced through your mind, the most prominent being you’re just like your mother.

It was just like her to pick fights. You couldn’t breathe in that house without her telling you that you were doing it wrong. She always found something to yell at you for.

How could I act like that, you winced as you recalled the fight you just walked away from.

Poor James, who you yelled at for not being mad at you. It really was just like her to get upset over something so irrational. You felt ill over the similarity, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom.

You couldn't let yourself be doomed to your parents' fate. You wanted to be kind, reasonable, rational. So, what wouldn't they do in this situation?

A safe assumption would be that they wouldn't feel bad, so you're already on the right track it seems.

They also wouldn't apologize.

Okay, yeah. Apologize. You could apologize.

You have to apologize.

Just go apologize.

But you just couldn’t get yourself to move. You were frozen in shame for your behavior, the only movement was the rise and fall of your chest from your labored breath.

James Potter did not like feeling sad. It was unsettling, uncomfortable, so utterly unlike him.

Whenever it happened, he tried to hide from it. He'd lock himself away somewhere before he'd dare face it head on— or admit that it's there at all.

The last time he was sad, he let himself fall asleep in the common room just so he wouldn't have to face his friends back at his dorm. And when his childhood pet died, he didn't mention it for months, only alerting his friends to his cat's passing when Peter asked how old his cat was again.

It's not that James thought there was anything wrong with being sad. He definitely didn't believe in any of that nonsense that real men don't cry. In fact, he was always the first to offer his shoulder if any of his friends were upset, back pats and let-it-all-outs at the ready.

But when it was him, when he was the one with the lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach, he couldn't handle sadness anymore. It made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be the strong one, the brave one. The one who lights up a room with the force of the sun and brings humor and fun into everyone's days.

So, when he couldn't be that, he'd rather be alone. He'd rather sit isolated in a dimly lit room where the darkness can't touch anyone but himself.

His bed creaked under his weight as he shifted in place, the only movement he has made in several minutes.

He was trying to be still and let his mind focus on nothing but his breathing. He was especially trying not to think of your argument.

He counted out his inhales and exhales, just as he had learned years ago in divination class.

James took divination for one year only. It wasn't for him, but one thing from that class did stick with him— the lesson on mindfulness. Something about mediation and a clear head opening your mind to frequencies you may not normally be able to comprehend.

James wasn't sure about all that, but he quite liked the calmness of the exercise they did in class that day, even if he felt a bit silly doing it.

He finds himself repeating the meditation from that class when he's down. He much prefers a clear head to one with racing thoughts that give him that choked up feeling in his throat.

He was broken out of his feeble attempt at a meditative state when there was a knock at his door.

Hope swelled in his stomach. Maybe you've come to talk. Maybe he could smooth things over with you. And then he could stop feeling like this.

He tried not to look disappointed when Sirius walked through the door.

Sirius gave James a once over as the door clicked shut behind him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" James forced a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me."

"You're sitting at the foot of your bed, starin' at the floor, shoulders slumped," Sirius' hand swept towards James' hunched form, "I know what upset looks like, Prongs."

"I'm not upset," James insisted still, "I'm just thinking. Is being lost in thought a crime these days?"

Sirius shrugged, plopping down on the bed next to James. His legs hung over the edge as he let his back hit the sheets, his arms sprawled at his sides.

James listened as Sirius puffed out a long, exhausted breath.

"You alright?" James asked, not bothering to look back, letting his sad eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"Ah, I see. Worried about me, are you?" Sirius guessed.

James seized the opportunity to excuse his demeanor. Besides, he wanted to talk about what Sirius had said earlier anyway.

"You did have a pretty nasty spat with your sister. And then you nearly collapsed."

There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as Sirius thinks.

"Your parents fixed me right up again. Gave me some nasty potion to help with the dizziness. Tasted like sewage but 'm good as new. They're off now, by the way, picking up some herbs they want to steep and feed me for these spasms I keep having in my hands."

James winced. Spasms, a potential side effect of being under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Sirius... about what you said happened. Your mother–"

"I don't want to talk about that," Sirius spoke quietly, somberly.

After a moment, Sirius added, "I don't want to think about any of them ever again."

James felt a pang in his heart, knowing Regulus was included in 'them'. You wouldn't have stood for it if you'd heard Sirius say that.

James' mind wanders back to your earlier argument, his earlier attempts to avoid these thoughts futile now. You were so adamant that you needed to go back for Regulus, ready to dive into some sort of escape plan, and that still scared the hell out of James.

He considered telling Sirius about what you wanted to do. One on hand, he knew Sirius would be on board with keeping you the hell away from there— keeping you safe. On the other hand, it felt like tattling on you to your brother.

James thought about the betrayal written across your face earlier. How hurt you were when you suspected James was choosing to believe Sirius over you. Confiding in Sirius now would surely, surely make it worse. And James didn't want to hurt you.

And yet—

"Thing is... I have to talk to you about something. About your sister... and about Regulus."

A flinch finally broke you out of your statue-like state when a sudden and distinct fluttering sounded above you. You expected to see any mundane bird when you looked up, but there was nothing there. You leaned around the tree to try to locate the source.

Instead of any random creature of flight, it was a familiar owl. And he was not in the tree, rather next to it, in a designated perch located on the other side of the thick trunk.

"Oh. Hello," you greeted the owl. He stared at you blankly, of course.

You've met this owl before. His name was Glory. You didn't know why, but James had named him, and you supposed that it was a name that James would have thought of.

You've received countless letters from James, all delivered by Glory. There were the long ones, which you mostly received during the times you were apart. Glory was good at discretely delivering them to your window. And if James also had mail for Sirius, he knew to deliver yours first.

James was always checking up on you over the holidays, making sure you were okay and telling you stories of his own time at home that would take your mind off of whatever horrible things were going on at Grimmauld Place.

When you were together, back at Hogwarts, James still sent you little notes whenever you weren't near. He knew how much you loved receiving notes from him, so he made it a habit. He would send notes about things he saw that reminded him of you, expressions of how much he missed you even if he'd seen you mere hours prior, declarations of love that he couldn't keep inside until the next time he'd be alone with you.

Oh, your sweet boy.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" You asked Glory. You chided yourself for continuing to try to talk to an owl. Not that owls weren’t smart. In fact, they were very intelligent, especially the magical sort. Glory could understand you, but it’s not like he had the ability to respond.

You imagined that Glory would tell you that you messed up big time if he did, though.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, wiping dirt and twigs off your pants when you rose. As you walked back towards the house, you wondered if your mother ever felt sorry like this, if she ever wanted to apologize sometimes. Surely, at some point she did. James' words come back to you about how we're all human, and you want to believe that maybe there was a memory lost in your mind of her apologizing to you.

You'd have been a wide-eyed little kid at the time, snot-nosed and teary-eyed after she yelled at you for spilling milk or leaving a toy in the middle of the floor. She'd wrap her arms around you and apologize for raising her voice. Then she'd shush and coo soothingly until your tears dried up and you could show her all of your baby teeth in a wide grin.

It was unnatural, the image of her in your mind like that, but your heart burned for it to be real. As sick as it was, you still yearned for your mother's love, even if it was a thing of the past.

Maybe your house really was a poison. Because if she had ever been gentle, one way or another, Walburga Black got colder and harsher over the years. She spiraled so deep into darkness that she seemed to want to be cruel. After all, to cast the Cruciatus Curse, you do have to really want it.

Each step you took was invigorated with a new sense of determination. Apologizing to James now, owning up to your mistake, it was only the first step of doing everything in your power to never be anything like that woman.

It felt like no time passed at all by the time you arrived outside of James' door. You didn't feel ready to face him, but you raised your fist anyway. Just when knuckles were about to meet wood, you heard a muffled voice from inside.

"What do you think?" James' voice asked softly. Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, James, I heard you," Sirius said. He had that far away kind of tone in his voice he gets when he's trying to distance himself from his emotions.

"And?"

"And I'm bloody tired of talking about him!" Sirius barked. Even from the safety of the other side of the door, you flinched.

"She doesn't get it. She'll never get it because it's him," your brother continued. "If she had known he wasn't coming she probably wouldn't be here either. If it's a choice, it'll be him over me in a heartbeat. He could've done the bloody spell on me himself and she'd still choose him. Merlin, she could've done the bloody spell if he asked her to."

If felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You bit your tongue until you drew blood, fighting the urge to cry out, as if Sirius' words physically wounded you.

Rationally, you knew that Sirius was just angry, that he didn't mean it. But the rational side of your brain hasn't been winning many battles today.

You vaguely heard James tell Sirius not to say things like that as you backed away from his door until you met the wall behind you with a thump.

There was silence from inside James' room for mere seconds before the door was ripped open. Sirius stood in the doorway, James behind him. You couldn't read your brother's expression, there barely was one. How typical of him to hide behind a blank stare.

You, however, were wide eyed with a hand clamped over your mouth, leaning against the wall behind you, sure you'd collapse without its support.

Sirius began to say your name and suddenly your hand was gone and the words were tumbling from your lips.

"How could you say that?" Your voice was strained, "I wouldn't ever do that– He wouldn't ever do that!"

Sirius' eyes bore into yours but he didn't say anything. You wished you could tell what he was thinking under that stupid mask of his.

"I shouldn't have to tell you over and over again that I love you both. You are both my brothers, you both mean the world to me. It's so irrational and– and foolish to worry about a choice that I'd never–"

You cut yourself off. The irony of being so hurt by Sirius' words were not lost on you. You had only just been accusing James of choosing Sirius over yourself.

"No, that's not true," Sirius bit back, "because that choice is upon you now. So, go ahead. Let's see if you can surprise me."

"What?"

"Choose me, stay here where it's safe. Choose Regulus, go right ahead and try to be his jailbreak. But when you can't convince him to leave, when he refuses, I won't be surprised when you choose to stay there too."

Your eyes flashed to James, who looks way too shameful for you to not put two and two together. You were conflicted; feelings of regret over accusing James of choosing Sirius over you were mixing with feelings of betrayal that James had ran right to Sirius with your words.

You'd let the guilt and betrayal sink in and shred you to pieces later. You had Sirius to deal with first.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "How could you be so dim? Wanting our brother to be safe does not mean I'm choosing him over you."

"Color me unsurprised!" Sirius yelled, looking smug.

Your eyes began to burn, "Fuck you, Sirius!"

James tries to interrupt, "Er, hey, maybe we should–"

"Don't you dare tell me we need to take a step back from this conversation, James!"

James' mouth clamped shut.

"Don't yell at him!" Sirius squawks.

"You want to talk about choosing one person over another? Let's talk about it. Don't pretend you haven't given up on Regulus ever since you met his shiny new replacement!"

You'd feel real shitty about saying that in front of James later; the look on his face at your words was already burned into your memory.

"Don't turn this on me!" Sirius shouted.

"You're such a hypocrite. And an imbecile for thinking I care about you any less than Regulus. Of course I care about you both the same. And you may not believe it, but Regulus cares about you too!"

"That's–"

"I don't want to hear it," you interrupted, "I'm done. Say it James."

James looked like a deer in headlights, "What?"

"Say the thing!" you shouted.

"We need to take a step back from this conversation?"

Your arms flew up, gesturing towards James as you stared Sirius down with an exasperated look on your face. Your brother scoffed and stormed down the hall, disappearing to anywhere else in the Potters' home.

For a moment it was just you and James in the hall. Your eyes met and he looked anguished and far too apologetic. You knew that you were supposed to be the apologetic one, and you felt your heart begging you to let the sorrys loose.

It was too bad that the betrayal started settling in before the guilt.

"Sirius was right before. You are a snitch."

With that, you slipped back into your room and let the door slam shut behind you.

James remained in the hall for a moment longer, not knowing who to follow. He should follow one of you.

Instead, he decided to retreat back to his bedroom.

James wanted to be alone again.

273 notes · View notes

bangtanficsforyou · 7 months ago

Text

Hello, Love! (JJK)- 01

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Word count: 2K (approx)

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

The ring fits Jungkook as if it was meant just for him. Not one bit tight nor is it one bit loose. Snug around his finger as if it has always belonged there.

A round of applause breaks out and he looks at the smiling faces of his family and that of his soon to be in law's.

As the cheers and claps die down, he takes it as his queue. His hand makes it’s way to his pocket. However, when he is not met with a small square jewellery box, he immediately checks his other pocket. That pocket, too, disappoints him.

He looks up awkwardly at his fiancee and tries to give her a reassuring smile. Now checking for the pockets of his trousers, he fumbles around to somehow make the box appear out of thin air.

Realising that he is running out of time, he turns towards Jimin. “Jimin, did I not give you the ring box on our way here?”

Jimin looks at Jungkook with eyes wide like that of a newborn baby. “No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did,” Jungkook claims with more surety than he actually feels inside.

“When?!”

“When we were outside–”

“You were talking on the phone—”

“And, I gave it to you while—”

“Here,” Riya offers, with the small red box resting on her palm. Before Jungkook can ask, she answers, “I found it lying on the floor of our balcony.”

Jungkook gives an awkward chuckle in response, trying to play it off. “Jimin has become very careless these days.”

Before Jimin can protest and defend himself, Jungkook shoots him a look that somehow shuts him up.

Jungkook doesn't waste another minute before taking the ring out and putting it on Riya's fingers. The sooner it is done, the lesser are the chances of running into any other bumps on the road.

Another similar round of applause breaks out and Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief.

The engagement is done.

“Dad,” Jungkook greets cheerfully as he takes a seat.

“Hmm,” his soon to be father in law doesn't bother looking up as his eyes remain occupied with the official documents he's currently working on.

Jungkook remains unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm and continues. “You know I'm currently discussing a project with Mr. Elgin, right?’’

“Hmm.”

“And well I was telling him how I'm about to marry your daughter Riya Roy.”

“I see.”

“Do you know the praises he sang for you?”

Now that somehow catches his dear soon to be father-in-law's attention.

“Did he?” He interlaces his fingers, and relaxes against the chair, temporarily discarding the documents in the process.

“Yes!” Jungkook nods excitedly. “He was telling me how well you would display and advertise your designs to potential investors during the early business days.”

“What else did he say?” he muses.

“He also told me how well you have single handedly managed the business. How you started it from scratch and made it what it is today.”

The older man lets out a chuckle. “It doesn't sound too odd for someone to praise me for advertising my clothes in a clothing line business or for working hard when I am the one who started it.”

There's a brief pause where Jungkook seemingly processes the words.

“Now tell me, how much money do you need?”

Oh.

Now, it's Jungkook who lets out a chuckle, albeit an awkward one. “You haven't even listened to what he said on learning that you're planning on expanding your business.”

“Trust me, I don't need to know,” comes the reply. “You tell me the amount, I need to get back to work.”

Jungkook considers his options then in the blink of an eye, his whole demeanour changes. “You know how I almost have the contract for this year's cricket world cup?”

Much like earlier, the man hums.

“However, suddenly, they have raised the bid by six million.”

“So you need six million dollars?”

Jungkook nods, hoping that the amount doesn’t sound as big as it is.

There’s a pause and then there’s a low hum in response. “Did you return the one million dollar you had taken from Riya?”

“Well I almost have. There’s only a little left to pay back.”

“How much are you yet to pay?”

Sometimes, Jungkook wishes he knew how to read this man a little better. His father in law, undoubtedly, is every bit of the businessman you’d think of him to be. He thinks like a businessman, walks like one and talks like one in every sense possible.

Jungkook knows that one would never find this man speaking one word, that is not required. And that just makes it all the more difficult to ever get a hint of what his father in law is thinking.

Sometimes, Jungkook thinks speaking to this man is the equivalent of playing chess with a computer. You’d never know what the next move will be but you can rest assured, that you'll never outsmart them.

“Some two hundred thousand.”

“That’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

Jungkook pretends he hadn’t heard the question properly, the first time. “Uhm, no that’s the amount I have paid.”

“So what’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

“Eight hundred thousand—,” he replies and then quickly adds, “—but I will pay everything back as soon as the contract is finalised.”

“Sure,” his father in law nods, not buying his words. "I'll need some time to think about it."

“Listen, no matter what, I anyhow, need a meeting to be scheduled with Mr.Shro—I don’t care what his manager is saying about him being busy.”

The wind blows at a steady pace and somewhere in the lobby, a toddler shrieks in joy.

“Mail his manager as many times as you need to. Just refuse to accept no as an answer.”

Poor Sam, Jimin thinks, pitying the poor boy who didn’t know what he was signing up for when he agreed to be Jungkook’s manager.

“Yes, yes! Mail them again—not now Jimin!”

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t seem to catch the hint and taps him on his back, again.

“What is it Jim—”, only it is not Jimin. “Sam, I’ll get back to you later.”

“You asked dad for money.”

Uh oh. Jungkook could tell Riya wasn’t in the brightest of moods, but nothing could have prepared Jungkook for this.

“Riya why don’t we take this inside?” Jungkook suggests, keeping his voice soft and calm. He hadn’t thought much of it when he was screaming at his manager left and right in the balcony, for everyone to hear. But an arguement between the freshly engaged couple, might just not be that ideal.

“Jungkook, do you not have any self respect?”

I do, in fact that is why I am asking you to move this inside, Jungkook thinks to himself. Instead of speaking the words out, he again, mildly tries to guide her inside a room.

Riya, however, remains adamant on not cooperating with him. “You tell me, Jungkook, how can i respect a man who has zero self respect?”

“You do—”

“You know what keep your ring, I don’t want it.” In the blink of an eye, the ring that had almost managed to cause a commotion merely a few hours ago, now rests on Jungkook’s palm, again.

“Riya, what is your problem?” Long gone is the calmness Jungkook was trying so hard to keep. Now, he sounds extremely confused and perhaps frustrated.

“My problem is the fact that I cannot marry a man who has zero self—”

“It’s not self respect that I lack! Its ego!” Jungkook snaps. “If I know asking for help could get me the opportunity that I have worked so hard for, why shouldn’t I? Plus, it’s not like I have ever failed to pay back.”

There’s a beat of silence, where Jungkook tries to regain his composure. “I don’t understand Riya, the years when you were struggling to make it into the industry, I supported you in every way I could. So now that I'm the one who’s facing struggles, why can’t you find it in yourself to do the same?”

Something in Riya softens at the mention of all the times, Jungkook stood by her side like a rock. Every penny Jungkook earned was spent on Riya’s then struggling career. Lord knows, there were times when she felt like giving up but Jungkook wouldn’t let her. When she lost faith, Jungkook would believe in it for both of them.

She inhales shakily and looks at the ring and it somehow manages to ground her to why she said yes to Jungkook in the first place.

“And if it bothers you so much, I won't ask dad for money.”

She nods and then gently takes the ring from Jungkook. It's in that gentle touch of her's that Jungkook knows things are settled, at least for the time being.

“I'll go look for Mili aunty, I heard she was looking for me,” Riya says, and somehow the abrupt end of argument doesn't surprise Jungkook, in the least.

As Riya walks back inside, Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He finds it a little difficult to believe that Riya almost broke off the engagement. Although he probably shouldn’t be so surprised.

Over the years, Jungkook has become very familiar with Riya’s habit of breaking up with him at the slightest inconvenience. Now that they are engaged, breaking up means...well, calling off the engagement.

Arguments with Riya are always like this, short lived but very frequent. Riya would state the reasons why she thinks this won’t work and all the reasons why Jungkook is wrong and then Jungkook would have to remind her of all the reasons as to why the both of them have stuck together for so long.

Maybe it has always been like this, be it for Riya’s career, or for their relationship, Jungkook has always kept faith on behalf of the both of them when Riya couldn’t.

Perhaps securing the deal he's currently working on, would finally give Riya the reassurance that she's looking for. Well, he sure hopes so because if this contract doesn't, Jungkook doesn't know what will.

Getting this deal has the potential of turning you into the equivalent of Leonardo DiCaprio of the event organisation industry. There's simply no looking back from then on. You'd have career stability, money and a reputation among your peers.

It's probably everything a woman looks for in the man, they are marrying.

So yeah, he genuinely hopes that he can prove himself to be capable and can put rest to this constant breaking up and patching up cycle the two of them have found themselves in, for years.

And he's definitely going to give his best, even if that means being rude to his innocent, sweet, doe-eyed manager.

Chapter two will be up on my Patreon on early access by the end of this week!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #bts fic #jungkook series #Jungkook ff #jungkook bts #BTS ff #BTS au #BTS series #Fic: hl

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fountainpenguin · 4 months ago

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Dimmsdale Rich Families Analysis

Misc. musings that haunt me daily...

I love Dimmsdale's rich families... You've got the Dimmadomes who are all about real estate, fancy buildings, hosting city events, and (Thanks to Dale) they got into tech and shipping.

Contrast that with the "old-fashioned pencil and paper" vibes of the Leadlys, plus the Buxaplentys running the trains... It's a triangle of supporting each other's businesses (and thus, the rich get richer).

This post written under the assumption we're treating these episodes as canon, though I cherrypick "Country Clubbed" in my worldbuilding and I use Dimmsdale's founding year from Season 3 over the one given in Season 9.

General Background

Several flashback episodes imply the FOP world exists in a timeline where the English settled at least part of the west coast in 1665 (as opposed to the Spanish).

- Presumably, this is one of the unique things a universe-hopper like Jimmy Neutron would identify this world by. - On that note, people are heavily implied to "stand differently" in the FOP world, which is why visitors from other dimensions react with surprise when they see their bodies (and fall over before they get their footing):

Just some fun "alt reality" vibes. Enjoy your visit; sea legs required.

Notably, this is also a universe where trains existed on the west long before they existed in ours, but we'll get to that.

Today I'm discussing the Dimmadomes, Leadlys, and Buxaplentys, but for anyone who's interested in learning more about rich families, Season 9's "Country Clubbed" namedrops a bunch.

Dimmadome Family

We know the Dimmadomes for their impact in the modern world- they're always innovating, hopping from one thing to the next. Dale does seem to have consistency in the businesses he owns (though I am DYING to question what his plans are for that indoor amusement park).

Doug doesn't seem able to commit to anything for long, though we know he's very proud of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome. He hosts many events throughout the series, from music shows to wrestling to demolition derbies.

Dimmsdale was founded in 1665, named after Dale Dimm (following him throwing Alden Bitterroot the witch down a well). It's possible Dale Dimm is an ancestor of the Dimmadomes, given what we know about:

- Dimmadomes having their hand in things (including the founding of Dimmadelphia). - One Dimmadome ancestor using the surname Dimm ("Lost and Founder's Day"). - Dale Dimm's very tall, barefoot figure is a hilarious ancestor choice for Doug "tall hat" and Dale "boot obsessed" descendants when you think about it.

While it's heavily implied Dale was born into generational wealth, we can't confirm whether that was (or wasn't) true for Doug. It's possible his family helped him get his start, but he seems to have kicked off his own success story by mining for gold (Presumably at a young age given that was back in 1953 and the main FOP series kicks off in 2001).

I like to think Doug (prior Dale's birth) changed his family's surname to Dimmadome to move away from the negative connotation of Dimm and commit himself fully to his big and shiny brand image.

Doug's a pretty interesting character! He's not afraid to get involved in his projects and work hard personally, as opposed to outsourcing- a trait he and his son Dale seem to share.

Doug also seems pained to surrender a check to Timmy in "Odd Ball" (even asking for a minute to say good-bye to his money), which isn't far off from Dale's attitude towards stocks.

He was even down to move to Alaska to follow the Ballhogs basketball team. He loves throwing all his chips on the table and doesn't back out easily. He also goes all-in with promotional outfits, like the parka above or his chicken costume in "Chicken Poofs."

That said, he might have some "sunk cost fallacy" views towards some of the stuff he buys. While the basketball team cheered they'd won the game by a close shave, Doug's first remark was that now he'd have to figure out what to do with all the stuff he bought in prep for their move to Alaska. He immediately started eating the Blubber Nuggets he would no longer be able to sell.

In "Chicken Poofs," when Doug sees the town inside his restaurant's chicken-dunking cages, his first thought isn't "Oh my gosh, I have to save these people." It's "These people stole my chickens- I'm ruined!" However (at Timmy's advice), he comes back from the loss of his chickens by selling the eggs they left behind. He wasn't about to go home empty-handed.

I'm obsessed with Doug's chicken-dipping machinery having labels so the thing one step up from Deep Fry is The Sun, and the step up from Sun is Lava. When would he ever need a dial that goes that high?

A "waste not, want not" attitude is fascinating in contrast to Dale being so incredibly wasteful, he brought two single-use helicopters on his trip to the park in "Stanky Danky." Is Dale rebelling against Doug's "We have to make the most of everything" parenting style? I think that plays really well into my vision of Dale being the first born into excessive wealth, while Doug possibly worked his way up after striking gold in 1953. Dale is wasteful, Doug more practical.

Doug is also over-the-top ridiculous and would sooner work around his love for tall hats than stop wearing them.

He owns a boot-shaped phone and a laptop with an armadillo logo, apparently. I'm not sure what they were going for with the armadillo - it's probably just random or meant to represent high security - but I looked it up and in Mayan folklore, armadillos are perceived as cunning critters that outwit people and dodge consequences thanks to their shells, which... Yeah, I think that sums the Dimmadomes up pretty well. Fun fact, but armadillos are one of the only things Fairy magic can't affect ("Teacher's Pet") because magic bounces off their shells. My Anti-Fairy biology incorporates pink fairy armadillo biology because we know Anti-Fairies are also immune to most Fairy magic. Just kind of a "Hm" implication, especially since "Crock Talk"' here and "Teacher's Pet" are both Season 7 episodes. I guess the other horrifying option is that Doug eats armadillos the way you eat apples, but...

I'm also of the opinion that Doug torched things in the Learnatorium, given what we know about the Learnatorium's interior ("Totally Spaced Out") and this scene of Doug "destroying childhood memories" in "Odd, Odd West"

In fact, it's not even a reach to say Doug takes pride in destroying people's cherished childhood memories. He seems to "look down on wasteful, childish things" and seems to value anything that is more useful in performing a task or turning a profit. Again, that's big "Everything must be useful and we can't waste space" energy (and presumably reflects on his offscreen parenting).

Where my fanworks are concerned, I love the idea that Doug paid for personal tutors to help Dale adjust to society and/or some basic schooling. Say... maybe an elementary teacher to start with? I don't think it would be unreasonable to theorize Crocker was involved with that, at least at first, as it helps justify the money he would've needed to expand the Crocker cave in the early days. -> We know from S4's "Genie Meanie Miney Mo" that Mr. Birkenbake states he can't afford a garage because he "doesn't make Crocker money," implying resentment... which is pretty interesting when you consider that Crocker also doesn't have his own place because he moved back in with his mom after university, and not even to his old room (Instead to a room above the garage). -> We know from S6's "Wishology Pt. 2" that Crocker stole the money intended for "the school's new science wing" and used that to pay for some of his tech, like his rocket. Both these episodes come well after S2's "Nectar of the Odds," so it's interesting to consider Crocker getting money earlier to support his tech pursuits in Seasons 2 and 3.

Dale seems to feel strongly about his dad- If it's not love, it's obsession and Grade-A Daddy Issues. His tent is shaped like his dad's head - despite Doug not being present at the event as far as we know - and even his house features statues of his dad.

Considering the nervous, over-the-top, aggressively money-chasing person Dale turned out to be, it's no surprise we can see a lot of Dale in Doug. While Vicky did a number on Dale's psyche, there's definitely some Doug influence in his behavior too.

Fun Fact: The Dimmadome gives off Roman Colosseum vibes, so it's fitting that one of the ancestors we saw in "Lost and Founder's Day" is an ancient Roman!

I would also be remiss not to look at the Dimmadome fortune, glance at the sheer number of businesses Doug is constantly opening... and question if there's some money laundering going on there. Seems kinda sus, ngl...

I'm just saying, Doug with a ton of "disposable income" (gold) because he ended up with a lot of it very quickly seems like a "great" way to get into gambling. Shout-out to the Dimmadomes and their obsessions that hint at addictive personalities. Actually, that makes Dev's game addiction so much darker and now I'm horrified. He could get into trouble so easily...

Also, in "Engine Blocked," Doug literally tries to pay Vicky with a bunch of [I assume fake] money with his face on it, so that's questionable...

One last interesting note is that the Dimmadrones (called such in "Stanky Danky" when chasing Cosmo, Wanda, and Hazel) are clearly based on the early model of Amazon delivery drones.

I think the obvious assumption is that Dale* built them for Dimmazon, but repurposed a few of them for Dev's caretaking (as opposed to them being built for Dev in the first place).

* It's possible the robots were built by a team, but knowing Dale programmed the statues in "Lost and Founder's Day" & Dale's seeming preference to do things himself rather than outsourcing, I'm going with the "Dale built them" theory.

This repurposing might be backed up by Dev referring to the ones that hang out with him as au pairs - a phrase meaning "caretaker" - and even claiming his au pairs are Au Pair #1 and Au Pair #2. While that might just be convenient shorthand since those are the two he interacts with, maybe those are a different type of Dimmadrone that was designed (or tweaked) specifically for Dev's care.

In a previous post, I discussed my headcanon of Dev having hypoglycemia and referenced the au pairs having the ability to "alert on him," or at least use both visuals and noise to signal him, as in this screenshot from "28 Puddings Later" showcasing a glowing exclamation point:

We also know Dev has specific food needs (Lactose intolerance), that he's very picky with his food (Even a treat like cupcakes that you would expect a 9-year-old to enjoy regardless), and that the au pairs are capable of food preparation (since Dev tells Hazel in "A New Dev-elopment" they can make sushi).

The au pairs are probably the most advanced, expensive, time-consuming models (compared to the ones that simply need to be mass produced for package pick-up and put-down).

I do like the thought that - for all his faults I didn't touch on here - Dale does care enough about Dev that he took the time to design two robots that could look after Dev in his absence... and specifically, took the time to think of what a child actually needs.

Dale probably thinks "I spent 7 years struggling... I would've loved the comfort of knowing my base needs like food were taken care of."

In my hypoglycemia post, I said the au pairs seem to know what hugs are and can recognize when Dev wants comfort. That implies Dale put a lot of thought into the design of the au pair and its ability to assess Dev's needs. Dale's not oblivious to what a child needs, like safety, appropriate food, and physical affection... He just lets the au pairs handle Dev.

Dale definitely gives the impression of someone who's making a genuine effort to parent, considering he missed out on healthy role models for at least 7 years of his life (Not to mention Doug is a wild character and probably fell short of being an excellent parent himself).

Along with designing the au pairs to look after him, Dale involves Dev in his projects, greets Dev, and answers his questions, and that's so interesting when you compare him with people like:

- Remy's parents (after the shipwreck in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary"'s closing scene) opting to count their surviving money and open a luxury hotel while still dressed in rags, forcing Remy to forage for his and their survival - Vicky and Tootie's parents opting to stay with perceived cannibals rather than disobey Vicky ("Timmy's 2D House of Horror"); they consistently let Vicky run the show and beg her forgiveness when they upset her. You could 100% make an argument that Vicky is Tootie's actual caregiver. - The "Fairy Idol" alt version of Bucky (Chester's dad) who lost his house and went off to party instead of securing food or shelter for his son. Also, Regular Bucky canonically feeds Chester animals he stole from the zoo or aquarium ("Who's Your Daddy?") and I think we should talk about that. - A.J.'s parents are fantastic in many ways, but there's something incredibly dark about the way they don't like A.J. going outside where there are germs ("Who's Your Daddy?"), they have a laser set up in front of their house to vaporize visitors ("The Big Scoop"), and A.J. seems to believe they dislike Chester (given his long silence after Chester asks why A.J.'s parents' security system got more aggressive after finding out he was Chester). - Later-season neglectful Timmy's parents (though I acknowledge I don't love that flanderized aspect of their character unless viewed from the 'got burned out after 50 extra years of parenting' lens, personally). - Clark and Connie who walked out on their daughter having an anxiety attack (and sent Chloe into a dissociative episode 3 times in the first episode they appeared). - A distracted adult Timmy ("Channel Chasers") leaving his kids with a robot Vicky babysitter despite the sight of weapons and his children begging.

Dale IS an antagonist and a neglectful parent. This post is not meant to take away from that or excuse it, but I think it's interesting that within the bounds of FOP characterization... He is pretty consistently in line with how parents in this show behave, and he does have many positives alongside his flaws. I totally understand why child protective services have not taken Dev from him.

Disclaimer: All characters are morally gray and this list is for amusing discussion purposes. I'm not calling these characters "bad parents" so much as highlighting interesting behaviors for consideration.

FOP's characterization leans into adults being foolish and neglectful - Dimmsdale is named after the idea that the adults are dim, after all - and I think it's worth evaluating all the FOP parents within that framework.

Related Dimmadome Posts:

- This post where I had the thought that Doug might have ADHD/OCD comorbidity (Hilariously, something I'd already decided to do with Dale and Dev...)

- This post comparing Doug and Dale body language

Leadly Family

S9's "Dog Gone" is a bonkers episode, and I love it so much. Notably, it's the episode that confirms Leadly is personally rich- Not just Pencil Nexus as a company, which has multiple branches in other states and can afford a jet.

In fact, Leadly is so rich, he offers to buy Sparky from the Turners for 17 million dollars, just because Sparky gave him the Heimlich maneuver and Leadly thought it was neat.

My personal headcanon for Leadly is that he's somewhat aware of magical beings and is actively seeking them.

The Leadly mansion is pencil-themed, of course.

The Dimmadomes and Buxaplentys are both confirmed to have generational wealth. We have no proof one way or the other for Leadly. It's likely his is too, but it's not impossible he founded Pencil Nexus and committed to its branding because he's proud of what he does.

Leadly doesn't have many appearances, but we know some very important things about him:

- He's convinced he's being haunted by a hot tub ghost, reason being that Cosmo likes to use his hot tub at night (whether Leadly's in it or not). Sparky also claims that he had an accident on Leadly's lawn (Crashing his car), but that Leadly blamed the hot tub ghost.

- He's super buff.

- His company is literally the only thing keeping a [presumably magical] forest from overtaking Dimmsdale, considering that when Pencil Nexus reduces their tree chopping in "The Boss of Me," the forest overtakes the city within a couple hours.

Did some godkid out there just wish for renewable trees and now Dimmsdale is cursed and suffering??

Leadly just flexes like this and has massive muscles, but his aren't as big as the people affected by the Everleadys.

The episode makes it explicitly clear that people's massive muscles are magic and aren't going away (Hence the lawsuits and decision to remove Everleady pencils from the world), but Leadly's muscles do fade when he stops flexing. His are natural.

Despite the jokes that he flies the company jet around to goof off, it's not unreasonable to think he's out there personally chopping trees and I respect him for it.

Y'know, I did wonder how on earth selling pencils made him rich enough that he can afford to spontaneously buy things for 17 million dollars (and keep a pet snow leopard that he apparently rides, considering it was tame enough for Timmy's Dad to ride it home from work and he parked it outside his house and it just stayed there).

Did he fight the snow leopard? Did he raise it? I'm afraid of him.

Conclusion: Ed Leadly has a monopoly on an infinitely replenishing wood source. His company can never take a break or the city will be overtaken by magic plants. Big "curse of Midas" vibes.

I can't stop thinking about how in "T.U.F.F. Puppy," it's implied that Petropolis exists in the same general location as Dimmsdale... Los Angeles county:

- Los Angeles' population in the 2010 census was 3,792,621. Dimmsdale's hillside letters parallel the Hollywood sign. - 91502 is the Burbank area code, where the Nickelodeon studio is - Jorgen claims in "Meet the OddParents" that the power he has to do that was vested in him by both Fairy World and Whittier, California. This seems to match the city borders seen in "Fairy Idol" while he's zooming in on Chester to assign Norm as his godparent.

This implies parallel universe vibes, though in my lore, I have all four Hartman shows blended into one continuity.

See my 2019 post, "A T.U.F.F. Timeline" or the shorter "How Hartman Shows Co-Exist" post if you want details on that

Here's the thing... In "T.U.F.F.," it's implied the forest near the city has been allowed to spread and evolve. Its bizarre flora and fauna certainly give a "non-natural evolution" vibe, so it's not implausible magic could be at play.

It's made very clear in "T.U.F.F. Puppy" that this show is still set on Earth, yet "Flower Power" refers to the Petropolis Rainforest. That implies this forest exists around the city. In fact, we know it's separate from the Amazon, which is referenced in "To Bee or Not to Bee").

Interestingly, the episode "Til Doom Do Us Part" depicts Petropolis being overrun by brightly colored flowers once weddings are mass canceled-

- which implies the florists are keeping the creep of nature back from Petropolis.

I feel like this is especially cursed in my lore where "T.U.F.F." exists in a post-FOP future... Leadly, your woods!! Oh no, he can't hear us... He's been gone for 2,000 years...

Shout-out to Pencil Nexus keeping Dimmsdale safe, one pencil at a time. And shout-out to Leadly's unique body language of gripping the sides of his coat, because he does it a lot and it makes me smile every time. He is just some background guy with a pencil-themed gimmick, but he has a special body language quirk and I love it.

Related Leadly Things:

- If you haven't watched S9's "Dog Gone," I recommend it. It's silly. There are some late-series episodes that give secondhand embarrassment vibes, but for some reason "Dog Gone"'s bizarre energy is so charming to me.

- Leadly appeared in these one-shots of mine, if you're interested in my portrayal of him hunting down magical creatures (and just generally being entitled and getting in the way): "Opportunity" & "Trying Too Hard"

Buxaplenty Family

The Buxaplentys have been running the railroads ever since Dimmsdale's early days, with Orville Buxaplenty the first to do so. Timmy's distant grandfather (Ebeneezer) mocks trains by claiming they're "just a fad" and there's no future in them- Thus, he chooses not to involve himself with trains and leaves Orville to do so alone.

This establishes the Buxaplenty wealth as being generational through these trains. Presumably, Dimmsdale has a large train station, as this seems to be where the Buxaplentys have set up shop.

If the Dimmadomes have businesses spanning Los Angeles to Dimmadelphia, it's very likely the trains play a key role. Assuming we take the 1665 founding date of Dimmsdale as canon ("Which Witch is Which?"), the trains may have been essential at moving resources from Dimmsdale to later found Dimmadelphia. -> See also, respawning magic woods (?) Rich people crossover of the centuries??

Notably, their family takes some heavy hits in "Country Clubbed" when Mr. Buxaplenty is forced to watch the destruction of the club, his mansion, yacht, and limo in quick succession.

The surname Buxaplenty is clearly a play on the phrase "bucks aplenty" (and I want to shout-out a 'fic I read many years ago - but unfortunately do not remember - that had a whole thing about Remy's surname actually being Buxley and everyone just calling them Buxaplentys in a derogatory way, because that's hilarious).

A neat detail about Remy is that in the Spanish version of Fairly OddParents, his surname is Cajallena, which (to my understanding) translates as "full cash register."

In my lore, I made Cajallena the maiden name of Remy's mom.

I did some poking around. Apparently, Remy is based on comic/cartoon character Richie Rich, popular from the 60s to the 90s or so (and who still shows up in modern reboots of things today).

I'm not familiar with this series, but both are blond, the only child in their family, and wear big red bows. After brief research, I get the impression Richie was at least a little associated with trains... even owning a toy trainset that costs 1 million dollars (and paying 8 million to buy the factory that makes a part of his set that broke).

I want to highlight this comparison:

From the Hanna-Barbera cartoon, I believe, and it looks like Richie owned other gold vehicles like a boat as well.

As for Remy himself, I believe I read a few years ago that he's designed around the concept of "green-eyed envy," so he has literal green eyes. I think envious is a very good way to describe his character, considering that his immediate reaction to learning Timmy has fairies was "If he has fairies, he could wish himself richer than me; I wish his fairies were gone."

This is a minor detail, but I rewatched some Remy scenes (especially the lunch scene in "Remy Rides Again" and the breakfast scene in "Stupid Cupid") because I could've sworn Remy said at some point that he likes caviar. That might be true - I didn't find it in my hasty rewatch - but I definitely laughed when I checked and saw that instead of eating caviar for lunch like I'd remembered, he ate steak. Kid knows what he wants.

We also know Remy enjoys Crimson Chin and Crash Nebula. Specifically, we know that he's a fan of Cleft the Boy Chin Wonder, but that when Remy ventures inside the comic world, he made the character more relatable to him by making Cleft rich... in addition to minor costume changes, such as slapping the Buxaplenty logo on him in place of Cleft's usual C.

Remy sees something in Cleft that connects with him, but that extra "I want Cleft to feel like me" bit is interesting. Admiring Cleft isn't enough. He needs to be "I am Cleft's secret identity. I, Remy Buxaplenty, have this alt life." The Crimson Chin can't seem to tell the difference between Timmy and Remy as Cleft - unsurprising since he's a comic character playing his role - but Remy saving the Chin from falling is one of the only acts of kindness we see him engage in. That implies Remy does value the Chin and/or feeling like a hero in some way... or if nothing else, he values the praise the Chin gives him.

As parents, the Buxaplentys are pretty interesting. Even by "dim FOP parents" standards, they're exceptionally bad at being loving - or even effective - parents.

- Remy's dad is so awkward, he's not even sure how to address Remy when we see them in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary." It's his wife that suggests he try "Son." Also, Remy's parents time themselves so they spend no more than 2 minutes per day with him, which they tell him openly.

- Remy's dad calls him "Liam" later, which isn't close to his name... but Remy's grateful to be acknowledged anyway, which has interesting implications. Remy takes anything he can get; putting up with what little scraps they offer to avoid the risk of turning them off the idea of reaching out to him.

- At the end of the episode, Timmy wishes Remy could spend more time with his parents. We can assume Cosmo and Wanda didn't want to hurt the Buxaplentys on purpose - especially given what we know (from episodes like "Boys In a Band" & "Go Young, West Man") about Da Rules preventing godkids from harming others directly.

So that begs the question... Was shipwrecking the Buxaplentys the only option to get them to pay attention to their son? That's kinda dark... Angela will turn down a book pitch to care for sick Hazel, but "Remy gets sick and a parent tends to him" was seemingly not on the table. Which does make sense in-universe- After all, there are plenty of butlers and staff who wait on Remy.

Remy even tells us that his parents stopped paying attention to him after about 3 seconds despite being stranded with him on a desert island, which is pretty bad... but it gets worse when you realize Remy was stranded between Seasons 2 and 5.

When he returns in "Remy Rides Again," he asks Timmy to "guess where he's been," and informs him he "just got back from an uncharted island."

Combining that with Remy's claim that his parents only paid attention to him for 3 seconds - and looking at the scenes of Remy foraging for food while he wears rags and his parents get involved with business despite being stranded - That's..... just awful.

That's a long time for Remy to be without the comforts of home or the comforts of Juandissimo while struggling to survive (and keep his parents alive along with him). Depending on where you personally place Timmy's time freeze, it can get way worse.

And Remy was just happy he had time with his parents... Happy to forage for food... Happy to get a headpat... and for what? They don't deserve you, kid.

For all his greediness and schemes, he is pretty grateful for what little he has. In addition to looking forward to spending time with his parents, when Remy is venting to Timmy at the end of "Remy Rides Again," not once does he mention "And I didn't have my nice things." He says "I didn't have my fairy, Juandissimo, to comfort me."

Remy's parents don't even take care of themselves, let alone pay attention to his needs. They chose not to leave the deserted island - and apparently took their sweet time calling for clothes to be delivered - and Remy seems to be the one in charge of food.

Also, the implication here is that Juandissimo gave some part of his physical form up so Remy could eat, which is horrifying?? Did that happen multiple times, considering these scenes take place immediately after the shipwreck and later after Remy's mom opens her luxury resort, so definitely different days? Did... did Remy reach the point where he was struggling to find food - or the more awful option, struggling to find food for himself because he was giving it to his parents first - and Juandissimo said "F that" ??? ... help.

On top of all this, the official canon is that Juandissimo couldn't hold a job after being separated from Remy because he was so hung up on Remy's situation (and his own shame that he failed), he couldn't stop crying, so he bounced from job to job.

It's the thing I love most about Juandissimo, because when he's introduced in FFQC, he's a huge lapdog for Da Rules, even going off about how not following them would lead to madness. But we learn one very, very important thing about Juandissimo in "Remy Rides Again"... which is that Juandissimo openly broke Da Rules to return Remy's memories.

He's very clear about this: "I decided to help you no matter what Da Rules say, so I gave you back your memories." Because he loved him... and he knew Remy's situation wouldn't get any better if he sat and did nothing. The godparenting program and Jorgen weren't going to help, so Juandissimo - who LOVES Da Rules - broke them.

We know Juandissimo returned those memories while Remy was on the island. That suggests Remy's parents had no intention to return to Dimmsdale... and presumably, they also didn't care Remy was missing school.

We know Remy got real clothes again at some point on the island, and we can assume he had food and a bed because his mom opened a luxury resort, but there's more a child needs... Schooling, medical care, social interaction with peers... everything about that situation just screams neglect. Serious neglect. "We literally do not care" levels of neglect.

Even when Remy's parents do return to Dimmsdale and care about his schooling again, they send him to a military school full of older kids and adults. And that seems at least a little reasonable on the surface - After all, Remy's been a brat, so of course they'd send him to a school for ne'er-do-wells - but that begs the question...

... What has he ever done to upset his parents?

Remy's envy leads him to be rude, sure. And he's presumably committing some kind of fraud or deception crimes in the background due to the implication in "The Big Bash" that he bribes people with checks, but puts stops on them later so they don't go through. These are things that happened when he was doing magical stuff away from home.

But all signs point to him being extremely respectful towards his parents even when they're very dismissive of him... even when he's been placed in terrible, scary situations like being shipwrecked on an uncharted island, not knowing if they'll survive. Remy is polite, does what he's told, never talks back, and volunteers to find food.

It's almost worse that his dad acknowledged Remy finding food was a good idea and still didn't lend a hand in that. The Buxaplentys are such concerning people, and that's just my recap of things that happened in Season 2 and Season 5.

According to Season 9's "Country Clubbed," Remy's dad hits "classless saps" with his limo on purpose every month - which sounds horrible even without the next part - and he does that so he has an excuse to invite them to the Fancy Schmancy Country Club and he and his friends can mock them (under the guise of allowing them access to the club in exchange for them not suing). He heavily implies he'd like to hit Timmy later since he didn't get him while hitting his parents.

That's really messed up... WHAT is going on in the Buxaplenty parents' heads?

The only slightly relieving thing from that statement is that presumably, they don't run over Remy because we can assume Remy isn't a "classless sap," but I don't think "choosing not to run your son over because he shares your wealth" is a real point in their favor.

I make no claims that Dale is a fantastic parent, but the weird thing is... I don't think Dale is outside the range of how other subpar parents in the FOP universe act. Except the Buxaplentys- They're pretty much the lowest of the low.

There are so many concerning things going on in the Dimmadome house, like terrible safety rails, and Dale does cut his son off, dehumanize him, and make him feel unwanted. This is all true.

But at least Dale knows Dev's name and calls him that. It's very possible he's aware of Dev's lactose intolerance (seeing as Dev had to get his allergy card from somewhere). At least Dale provided the au pairs to look after Dev and gave them the ability to cook and recognize when he wants a hug. Even if Dale doesn't go out of his way to hug Dev, he seems to like him enough that he's happy to clap a hand to his shoulder and talk to him. At least he seems interested in talking to him and hearing about his day.

Dale even tries to get Dev outside, but didn't snap at Dev when Dev lay down to play his game instead in "Stanky Danky." That was their father-son thing, though it would've been easy to leave Dev at home.

Dale arguably took charge of Dev's care during that event, seeing as the au pairs don't hover around Dev. idk if Dale made his 9-year-old walk home himself across a very busy road while he chased after Danky, but that's not the point.

The implication is that Dev tags along on Dale's walks to Signal Hill - and has done so many times - because Dev knows Dale's calls drop up there. It's implied Dev plays on that hill when his dad is on a call because Dev knows the grass makes you itchy if you roll down it. He'd probably played there recently since that was the first place to come to mind during the treasure hunt with Hazel, and he remembered the itchiness of the grass.

Dale even makes donations to Dev's school, which is more than the Buxaplentys ever did (See also, Remy likely missing school while shipwrecked).

Remy could die and his parents probably wouldn't spend a cent on his funeral... or get his name right in a eulogy without a lot of note-checking and effort. In fact, it wouldn't shock me if they hid his death so no one found out, because a dead son would be bad press.

Actually... It's very sad to imagine them putting more effort into hiding Remy's death than into caring for his life.

Shout-out to Chapter 10 of the 'fic "Buy Me Love" by DeliverUsFromEvie where Remy addresses two mansion employees by name, but they're confused to find out their boss has a kid and that said kid has been in the house this whole time. I think about it constantly. hey. what on earth.

This 'fic has one of the most brutal interpretations of Remy I've ever seen, and Evie has this and several other awesome works, so consider checking them out!

All of this said, there's something else that's interesting here, so let's talk "Turner Back Time."

I can't stop thinking about how when Timmy wished his ancestor (Ebeneezer) had decided to work with trains rather than dismissing them, that led to a timeline where the following things happened:

- Timmy's Dad still married his beloved Timmy's Mom (lol). Yeah, you're not prying him away from the love of his life for anything.

- Dimmsdale fell to ruin because Timmy's Dad wouldn't play the Rich People game right (Supporting the city's growth) and instead opted to drive trains off the tracks and crash them through buildings.

- The Turners lived in a mansion, but Timmy's bedroom is exactly the same, presumably because in the timeline where his family's rich, he needed a safe space untouched by his parents' branding.

- Despite Timmy's effort to become miserable, Dad kept showering him with affection and toys, so Timmy didn't qualify for fairies until he was tied to railroad tracks with a train hurtling towards him.

- The first thing Timmy did in his attempt to become miserable enough to qualify for fairies was decide not to eat... Same energy as when he felt guilty and refused to sleep in Season 1 ("Dream Goat").

There is something here about Timmy's Dad ignoring the train system, but being attentive to his son, while the Buxaplentys ignore their son, but Dimmsdale isn't in ruins.

I'll say 1 and only 1 positive thing about the Buxaplentys: At least their trains are on the tracks instead of careening through hospital walls. Honestly, the bar is so low, it is below the floor.

Timmy's Dad became a greedy person in that timeline, but he still chose to marry someone of lower social status, have a son, and be kind to his son- He's happy to greet him, encourages him to enjoy their wealth, and gifts Timmy lots of nice things. In that timeline, it's the Turners who have generational wealth. Dad was raised by generations of Turners and he still makes time for Timmy. Come on, Buxaplentys... Is it THAT hard to speak to your son like you're happy he exists?

Closing Thoughts

The Buxaplentys are definitely an old money family while the Dimmadomes and Ed Leadly give off new money energy (to me).

Neither Doug nor Ed was seen at the Fancy Schmancy Country Club in S9's "Country Clubbed." All the people who were there have names that play on wealth. They also dress in a much more "upper class" way than Leadly with his flashy yellow suit or Doug with his Southern/Western theme.

The Dimmadomes represent business-related wealth and big company vibes, and I'd call them eccentric. Compare Doug's precariously perched cliffside estate (S3's "Engine Blocked") to Remy's telescope-

I really hope he decorates that hat for the holidays

The energy I get from this is "Doug doing whatever he wants just because he can"... which is also the impression I get from the "Crock Talk" scene that shows his hat stretching through the limo roof. Doug does business things and hosts events, but keeps to himself unless he's doing business things.

Comparatively, Leadly is all-in on his pencil branding, and the Buxaplentys flaunt their wealth in everyday life. As in, they buy the most expensive version of anything they want and like to showcase their wealth.

But while Doug and Dale have "Do what I want" energy, the Buxaplentys seem more restricted by social expectation.

That is, the Buxaplentys dress very nice and dine with fancy people- even their 11-year-old wears a tux, bowtie, and cummerbund. Buxaplentys are very "Flaunt wealth & do what people expect of us." They don't go out of their way to do "silly, eccentric" things like putting a hat on their mansion, but they sure will buy golden, diamond-studded things.

Well, that wraps up my analysis on Dimmsdale's wealthy families, who each intrigue and frighten me in their own unique ways... whether that be money laundering, holding back a magical forest, or being absolutely awful parents.

Thanks for reading!

#Fairly OddParents #Dev Dimmadome owner of anguish #Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome Global #FOP #Remy Buxaplenty #FAIRIES!#Ed Leadly #ridwriting #Doug Dimmadome owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome #Listen... I know it's mean but the running gag of Timmy's Dad being madly in love with his wife-#while Timmy's Mom prefers material objects and her garden and these two facts are brought up multiple times across the series #It just cracks me up... She married him because he's fun and they did activities like hunt ghosts together but we can't forget-#- that she dated Dinkleberg before her husband (and liked him even as a kid) and Timmy's Dad was so upset about losing her-#-in the “Father Time” alt timeline that by his own admission he “dove into denial and forced everyone to do the same” by brainwashing them #Like ?? idk every time we get an episode where we blatantly see how much he adores her and meanwhile she “settled” it's funny #screenshots #The Boss of Me #Turner Back Time #Perfect pink beaver boy #Thaddeus and Dominika #Eyyy Hartman gang!#We don't use that tag much #Cherry lemon ship tag #<- Dimmadome-Leadly musings #A New Wish #Long post

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shirohige-pirates · 5 days ago

Text

Tea Ceremony

fem!Reader x Ace/Thatch/Marco/Izou

Summary: Izou is hosting a tea ceremony, and you, dear reader, are the tea. (Had an idea about Izou mixing ceremony with kink and here we are)

CW: Shibari, use of toys, teasing, oral (given and received), fingering, tickling (just a lil'), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, mdni

The ropes around your chest created a harness, supporting the bulk of your weight, and keeping your hands tucked near your neck. Ropes against your hips and thighs carried the rest, leaving you curved comfortably as you dangled from the rafters. Your feet were pointed toward the ceiling, delicate patterns holding them snugly in place. Your hair had ropes and ribbons threaded through it, and it restricted your movement, but not so much you couldn’t move your head to ease tension in your neck if needed.

There were few who could wrap you up and leave you so beautifully comfortable while suspended in the air like Izou could.

After checking that you weren’t pinched anywhere, he places a length of bamboo between your teeth and ties it into place. Your breasts dangled freely, and your pussy clenched in anticipation and you swayed softly over the tea table.

The guests filed in, Thatch, Ace, and Marco. All had come to indulge in Izou’s favorite tea: You.

Being in the middle of the four commanders rarely left you unattended or neglected. You were their sweetest - Ace’s hearth , Thatch’s cupcake, Marco’s pretty bird, and Izou’s sweet flower.

“As the ceremony progresses the tea’s flavor will become more complex,” Izou explains while you lay in a relaxed pile on the floor between the four of them. Izou hadn’t left you suspended when the others arrived, and you would be eased onto the floor between “cups”, to make sure you were still good and to verify nothing got too stiff or that you needed to stop.

“We’ll go one full set today, but I’m hoping to work our cute little pot up to three full rounds one day.” He muses, fingers caressing your face carefully.

“We’ll start with Ace, then go around to Thatch, Marco and myself.” He explains, passing out plates with snacks on them. “Thank you Thatch for working with me on these.”

“It was my pleasure.” Thatch replies with a big grin. He’s not kidding, his mouth and hands were buried in your pussy for almost a week while he paired you to the foods Izou wanted. It’d been a good week for you both, since Thatch loved to make you cum, and he wasn’t like Marco or Izou. Both of whom delighted in dragging out your ascent, teasing you until you were begging to cum for them.

Ace had a tendency to cum before you, whimper and whine through his own overstimulated cock, and keep going until you came too. He was learning well from the others, but youthful impatience still tripped him up from time to time.

Izou seemed to be taking that into consideration tonight by letting him go first.

“The most important part of this is that you don’t rush it.” Izou explains, his eyes on Ace you’re sure. “You can use the brush,” he holds up a soft bristled brush. “The stirrer,” he holds up a thin, long and firm, bumpy dildo. “Or the whisk.” He holds up a powerful vibrator that’s mostly meant for your clit, but can certainly go other places.

“You’re also welcome to simply use your hands, since this tea isn’t going to get so hot we won’t be able to handle her.” He adds, rubbing his thumb against your lower lip, nail tapping against the bamboo bit.

Your body flexes, and several hands caress your skin as Izou pulls your rig up into air. He turns you so you’re facing Marco, and your twitching cunt is facing Ace. Hot hands against your thighs make you moan softly while Marco steadies your face against his grip.

His hooded eyes are drinking you in already, and you’re nervous how deeply he’ll drink when it’s his turn. Leaning down he kisses the bamboo bit between your lips tenderly, leaning back just as you feel Ace’s lips on the insides of your thighs.

His hands are on your lower stomach, holding you steady as he kisses your thighs, working his way as slowly as he can stand toward your center. You’re worked up with anticipation as it is, and while Ace is by no means slow, he’s showing exceptional restraint.

By the time his wandering hands and hungry lips find their way to your cunt you’re panting against the gag. They’re all watching you silently, and only Marco and Ace are touching you.

Marco’s hands cup your dangling breasts when Ace licks a heavy line against your clit, your own squirming causing your nipples to brush over his large hands. The soft pleasure rushes into your chest, and he presses against them as Ace’s tongue works your clit more.

Your muffled voice drips from the bit and Marco smiles, tugging on your stiffening nipples as Ace begins to suckle your clit.

“Slow down a little, Ace.” Izou says it softly. “Unlike with most teas, you don’t want to under brew this one. She won’t get bitter.” He hands Ace the “stirrer”.

Ace wipes his lips with the back of his hand, rubbing the bumpy toy against your soaking folds a few times until it was wet. Taking Izou’s advice to heart he presses the tip into your vagina, barely pushing the first inch in. Wiggling it at your entrance he teases you for a solid minute before pushing it in another inch.

Your body tenses and you cry behind the gag and can feel the amusement coming from everyone watching you.

“There you go,” Izou hums. “Next time-.”

“Do this?” Ace interrupts. You can’t see him, and he doesn’t touch you, but you hear Izou hum positively. Looking at Marco with pleading eyes, he doesn’t give away anything, just leaning in and kissing your bit again while he rolls your stiff nipples between his fingers.

“Don’t fight it,” Marco whispers to you, teasing your nipples gently, leaning back and watching you intently.

That gaze was often enough to send you over the edge, he was helping Ace who was learning as he was going. Thatch and Marco had been to Izou’s tea ceremonies before, each as the tea in their own turn. Marco and Izou weren’t switches like Thatch and Ace, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t play the part for the right people.

However rare the occasion may be.

Ace’s fingers start rubbing your clit as he works the toy in another inch. Stirring it around inside you he pushes it in deeper before pulling it back out. Teasing your clit and fucking you with the small toy. It had length and texture, but there wasn’t any girth to speak of.

You squeak and whine behind the gag, shivering and squirming as much as your position allows while the orgasm builds.

“Whistling like an actual kettle,” Thatch muses. “Cute.”

Ace pulls the dildo out completely, setting it on the little plate like he was supposed to. His fingers are still teasing your clit as his tongue pushes into your cunt. The heat and thickness are nothing like the toy and it only takes him a few seconds to push you over the edge.

Marco stops teasing your breasts when you cum on Ace’s mouth, putting a finger into each of your hands, letting your fingers flex and grip his, instead of pressing into your own palms. Ace stops teasing your clit as you come down from the high, his hands on your hips, his tongue still deep inside you, drinking greedily. Your legs tremble as he overstimulates you, but just as you’re going to whine he stops.

Izou lowers you onto the plush mat beneath you, and they all massage your muscles and check the knots while you take a breather. Knowing you were in good hands made it easy to relax.

“If all tea tasted like that, I’d be more willing to drink it.” Ace says, wiping his lips off with a thumb before sucking it clean.

Izou takes the bit out of your mouth. “How’re you doing, sweet flower?”

“M’good,” you mumble, stretching and moving your jaw around while the gag is out. “It’s a good start.”

“Wonderful.” He leaves the bit out as he pulls you back into the air. “Thatch said he wanted a full-bodied drink, so we’re not going to put the bit in.”

He gets up onto his knees, pulling his kimono aside. “But I do hate to leave your mouth unoccupied.”

Izou steadies you by slipping his fingers between yours, putting just the tip of his cock on your tongue. Thatch spreads your labia and slowly, oh so slowly, works his finger into you. He teases and wiggles his finger more than Ace did the stirrer, making you pant against the tip of Izou’s cock.

The two work together with hardly a word between them, and when Thatch adds a second finger Izou’s starts pushing into your mouth properly.

“There we go,” he hums, pushing in deeper and deeper as Thatch’s fingers make your cunt squelch and drip.

Something nuzzles against your clit and you recognize the wand just as it slowly inches to life. The low setting beats almost like a smack against your labia, but as it gains speed it truly begins to vibrate.

“Here,” you hear Ace say the word, but he doesn’t touch you.

“Oh good idea.” Thatch hums and a second after you hear another strong squishy noise, you hear water hit porcelain.

“Did you set a cup to catch what she’s dripping?” Izou questions, his voice amused and distracted as he holds your gaze. You can feel your face heat up as Ace answers with a delighted yup!

“It’s a treat watching you get worked over, little teapot.” Marco hums, rubbing your stomach with a warm hand.

The vibrator grows stronger and stronger until you’re moaning and mewling against Izou’s cock so loudly no one is saying anything. They’re just listening to you, watching you squirm and twitch.

Izou pulls back, cumming against your tongue, watching the pulses of his spend coat it as you start to whine about the impending orgasm.

“Keep your mouth open, little pot.” Izou commands, pressing a finger against your upper teeth, his eyes never leaving the cum in your mouth.

Thatch pulls his fingers out, throwing the vibrator to high, and licking and sucking your folds while you cum against his face. You aren’t sure if you squirt or not, the rush of sensation and the focus on keeping your mouth open being just enough to addle your senses. The sweet rush of pleasure has your eyes rolling back a little as your drool mixes with Izou’s spend, causing it to drip from your tongue when your body starts to shiver.

The only person making more noise than you is Thatch. He’s moaning and slurping your pussy like it’s ambrosia, and he’s not holding back. He licks you through the orgasm and only relents when Marco says his name, stopping a moment after you began to whine from the overstimulation.

“Swallow.” Izou commands, once Thatch lets you breathe and you swallow as he commands. It’s foamy and bitter and cold and you almost hate it, but it’s one of those things you willingly endure when you want.

Izou lowers you again, and you roll your joints and hum sweetly when they all start massaging your limbs again.

“Color, pretty bird.” Marco prompts and you chew on it for a moment before answering.

“Green,” you assure him. “The breaks between help a lot, and you’re all being nice.”

“It’s your first endurance heavy session.” Izou says. “We’ve already divvied up your work for tomorrow between the four of us so you can rest.”

“Besides, you’re coming up on the meanies.” Ace says with a grin, leaning down and kissing your hip before massaging it more.

“I’m not mean, yoi.” Marco huffs.

“Compared to Ace and Thatch you are,” you say, smiling up at him and watching his ears go pink. “But I don’t mind when you’re a lil’ mean,” you give him a coy look when you say it, looking away shyly. You can feel the tension rolling off him.

Izou rarely needed prompting when you really wanted him to be mean, but Marco often just needed a little push. You’d never begged him for it, you were almost nervous to open that door, but you trusted him regardless.

After drinking some water you were hauled back up into the ropes. Marco had used his flames to soothe a couple places that were sore, and you felt pretty good as you were pulled up, and up. Up higher this time than times before.

Ace was at eye-level with you, set up on his knees fondling your breasts while leaving light teasing kisses around your mouth. He wasn’t letting you hide your face as Marco spread your legs wide, pressing the head of his cock into your slit. Gasping, you buck, Ace steadying you a little by your tits.

“This is a sight I don’t get to see often,” Licking his lips, Ace nuzzles his nose against yours. “Look at me. I want to see your face, lil’ hearth.”

“Please, I-!” You gasp, teary eyes looking at Ace when Marco pushes in.

You’re soaking wet. Having cum a few times, and being teased to the point of dripping, you were more than ready for him. In his human form Marco was only a little smaller than Thatch, longer but not as thick. Out of the four of them, he was the one that could bully you the deepest.

It could be painful, if he wasn’t careful, but once Marco had learned your limits, he never crossed the line.

The swift motion nearly made you orgasm, especially with Ace teasing your nipples. The way he held your gaze, teeth biting into his lower lip as he watches you, he finally leans down and catches your lips when Marco starts to move.

Cupping your face to better control the kissing, Ace doesn’t relent. You can feel him moaning softly into the kiss, not quite matching the muffled sounds you’re making, but close enough. You wanted to beg him to put his cock between your lips, but you could barely find a moment to breathe with his tongue rolling around yours. Kisses from Ace were always so warm that they made you dizzy.

They weren’t painfully hot, but he gave you a fever with his deep kisses. The only person you knew whose feverish kisses were, in fact, fever inducing. It made it hard to think clearly.

Marco’s only concern was making you sing into Ace’s mouth, and that alone was making the pleasure coil in your stomach. You just hoped he wasn’t going to make you squirt.

“There’s a joke in here about frothing your tea,” Izou hums, his gaze fixed on the beautiful teapot hanging between Marco and Ace.

“It had crossed my mind, yoi.” Marco admits, finally finding what he was looking for and grinding into you until you’re squirming, nearly screaming into Ace’s kisses.

“Want it extra creamy?” Thatch asks with a big grin, waving the vibrating wand back and forth.

You can hear Marco laugh, and Ace breaks the kiss so you can speak up if you want to.

“Sure.” Marco answers, and you wonder if maybe this is what you got for implying he was mean.

Thatch nestles the toy against your clit and you whimper. The pleasure is already building so fast, and Marco has your internal weakness laser targeted at this point.

“You can say no,” Ace murmurs and you shake your head.

“Wanna know,” you gasp, tears already sliding down your cheeks. “H-hold onto me, Ace, I wanna know.”

Ace smiles. “Sure thing,” he puts his hands in yours as much as the ropes allow, and you can tell one of his hands had been busy jerking himself off. There was something sweet about someone needy like Ace edging himself for your sake.

Thatch turns the wand on straight to full and your body goes taut. “Holy shit!” You cry out, fingers flexing against Ace’s, your toes curling. Eyes wide, panting and gasping you whine and mewl and scream and swear and cum so hard you forget to breathe for a moment. It’s like electricity through your body, and you almost want more. More vibrations, more from Marco - bigger and thicker, with a concerningly large knot.

Your tongue hangs out of your mouth as you lose the control needed to keep it behind your open lips, the sweet shivering sounds you usually make traded out for something deeper and almost inhuman. You could care less how you sound right now, the pleasure has a grip on you and you don’t want it to let go.

Maybe ever, if you could just sink-.

Ace twists a nipple and you gasp in a breath, shaking and dripping sweat, drool, tears, and pleasure when Marco pulls out of you. You’re pretty sure he didn’t cum, but it was hard to know with how fully battered your senses were.

“Color,” Ace prompts.

“Gre-green, I’m… fuck… fuck… M-Marco can dr-drink, I’m - fuck - okay. I’m okay,” you reassure him. If you weren’t tangled up in ropes you’d be a pile of useless limbs on the ground. Dizzy from the rush, your skin was on fire from the intensity of it, but it had felt so good you already wanted to be able to chase that high again.

“Watch her,” Marco says, kneeling down and keeping your legs spread.

Ace takes a handkerchief from Thatch, wiping the snot and drool off your face as Marco’s tongue slowly licks along your folds. The tender licking gives you a moment to cool off, and you can feel the flicker of flames soothing some of the ache from the intense orgasm.

You can’t help the surge of emotion, crying softly. There’s no sorrow in the tears, you just can’t believe how lucky you are, and the rush of physical pleasure has your emotions in a heightened state.

“You’re all… so kind,” you manage to say, smiling despite the rush of tears.

“Terrible thing to say to pirates, cupcake.” Thatch teases, brushing away some tears as Ace kisses the tip of your nose.

“You trust us,” Ace says, a serious look on his face. “We’d be real assholes if we fucked that up.”

“Aww, listen to the little romantic.” Izou purrs, breaking the tension with a catty tone.

You giggle at the exchange, and then gasp, mewling and nuzzling into Ace’s hand as Marco’s tongue goes unnaturally long, coiling deep inside you. Break time was over, Marco wanted his due. With the fine control he had, he could get it. The long, tapered muscle pushing in just as deep as he could with his cock, flicking and twisting against your gummy walls.

He was going to drink every drop you had to offer, and maybe even more.

“’At tongue is gonna reach my brains,” you sigh, kissing the pad of Ace’s thumb before he pushes it against your tongue. You can see him stroking himself with his other hand.

Marco’s tongue urges you toward another orgasm, leaving you to pant against Ace’s thumb. Stretching your face toward him, he picks up on your want, smearing his thumb across your cheek when he pulls you into another kiss. Your lips are going to be swollen and chapped, but the warmth is grounding, and all your men have the sweetest lips.

It’s hard to refrain from kissing them all the time, honestly.

The second orgasm Marco pulls from you is softer than the first. Sweet and gentle the pleasure soaks into your skin like ink blotting on paper. It feels almost more like a massage than a flood or crack of electricity. Warmth splashes onto your dangling breasts, Ace moaning into your mouth as you slowly come down from your own high.

Breaking the kiss he leans back, sitting on his heels for a moment to catch his breath, and appreciate the sight of you. Watching his spend drip off your tits for a minute before wiping them off with a clean cloth.

When you’re lowered onto the ground this time there’s warmed damp towels to clean you up. The others share some of their snacks with you, and you take a few minutes to have something to drink as well.

“I thought we were going to go easy on her.” Izou frowns. “Two orgasms, Marco?”

“Sorry, yoi.” He replies honestly. “It was harder to hold back than I thought.”

“He still hasn’t cum.” You murmur. Your soft tone is because Thatch is massaging your legs, and it feels fucking divine.

“He shouldn’t get to for a week after that.” Izou growls, giving Marco a glare.

Marco puts his hands up in surrender, before leaning over and looking over you. You can tell from the look in his eyes he’s in doctor mode, not lover mode.

“How are you doing, pretty bird?”

“I can do one more round.” You answer, rolling your joints and wiggling around a little bit. “As long as I don’t have to like, run laps on deck afterward or anything.”

“You don’t have to push for my sake,” Izou says, looking down at you with a tilt of his head. “I organized this, sure, but I specifically decided to go last so you could call it if you needed to.”

Grinning you stick out your tongue. “Untie my hands and I’ll keep all your guests occupied while you have your cup, Sir.” You retort cheekily.

There’s a beat and the smile Izou gives you sends a chill down your back. “Oh you’ll keep my guests occupied while I make my cup, little teapot.”

Izou puts a blindfold over your eyes and pulls you back up into the air. Cold lube coats the slender dildo Izou called the stirrer, and he works it into your ass, leaving you gasping from the cold, squirming against the intrusion.

“Open,” Marco commands, hands on your cheeks. You open your mouth, tongue out and hungry as he presses the head of his cock against it. You could taste what was left of you on his skin. It was best to open wide and let him do as he pleased, if he wanted you to do anything to help he’d tell you.

“This should fit.” Izou hums, pushing the vibrating wand into your throbbing cunt. He doesn’t turn it on, working it in slowly while he works the bumpy toy into your ass a little deeper.

Thatch and Ace begin to play with your dangling breasts, making you moan and whine against Marco’s cock. It made it harder to take Marco’s length, but he took mercy on you and adjusted what he was doing. Deep-throating was something that they only did when you could focus on it.

No one wanted the session to end because a gag turned into something worse.

Something rougher than you expected brushes against your clit, and you scream and buck. Everyone else was expecting it, your lovers moving with you and helping you stabilize as Izou didn’t relent. It was the literal brush, a softer bristled toothbrush. Softer maybe, but your throbbing clit was sensitive and the sensation was sharp and intense.

“Perfect.” Izou grins, showing you mercy and taking the brush away. He rakes his nails down your ass cheeks, forcing you to hum and moan against Marco’s cock.

He leaves you be for a few moments, letting Marco push deeper and deeper into your throat until your nose is buried in his pubes. Ace and Thatch tease your nipples and it’s everything you have to focus on breathing as Marco pulls back and starts fucking your throat. A soft vibration in your vagina makes your body tighten a little, but it’s not so much you can’t ignore it and focus on the task at hand.

So long as it doesn’t get turned up too much.

It doesn’t take Marco long to cum in your throat, and once he pulls out of your mouth the vibrations inside you begin to pick up. Izou knew where to put it too, it’s bullying the same spot Marco likes to pay attention to.

“Gods, I’m - how did that fit?” You question, squirming as Izou fucks your ass with the bumpy dildo, making the constant thrum of pleasure from the vibrator stronger as you clench against it from the intrusion.

“It’s not as thick as Thatch,” Izou answers, brushing the soft bristles against your clit and making you whine at the excess stimulation.

“I -.”

“I thought someone said she could entertain my guests?” Izou hums, giving you a breather before pressing the brush into your clit heavier than before. You cry out as Thatch steadies your face, rutting his cock against your tongue.

You stretch your face toward him, letting him know he can do as he needs. This time it’s Izou’s finger on your clit, the wand vibrating inside you as Thatch’s thick cock stretches your mouth. He can’t deep throat you, but he can certainly use your mouth. His thick girth acting more like a gag than anything else, it takes everything you have to keep your teeth off his shaft.

Every now and then Izou smacks your ass with his free hand, making you moan and squeak against Thatch’s cock. You can feel his hands flexing against your face, and you can imagine the way his eyes are rolling back a little as he enjoys rubbing against your tongue. Like Marco he hadn’t cum yet either, and watching everything must have him worked up.

Izou turns up the vibe, thrusting it in and out, making you squirm and whine against Thatch. You hear him hiss, hands tightening in your hair.

“Tongue out, little dessert!” He growls, pulling out of your mouth enough for you to stick your tongue out. Thatch ruts against it, pushing the head of his cock into the roof of your mouth. It skids along the slick surfaces, precum smearing the inside of your mouth as he moves against your tongue. The act of him rutting against your tongue causes you to drool, the act is always a mess.

You can feel your pleasure building, squirming as Thatch draws closer. Panting around his cock, mewled sounds falling from your lips like drops of saliva, you can imagine the eyes that are on you.

Just as your orgasm starts to crest, Izou uses the brush on your clit, shattering the building pleasure and making your body clench so hard you expel the small dildo in your ass as Thatch cums. Thick ropes flood your mouth, and he’s cumming on your tongue even as you’re coughing from the first bits that are trickling down the back of your throat.

It’s only frustrating because Izou shattered your orgasm, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. You had given him hell earlier. An unwise choice in the middle of a session, especially one built up around some of his favorite things.

“Well, that was impressive.” Izou muses, pulling the vibrating wand out of your pussy. You get a moment to catch your breath and someone puts an O-ring gag into your mouth.

“This is for Ace’s safety, yoi.” Marco explains, putting it into place. “Snap your fingers for me, pretty bird, let me see that you can do it.”

You snap your fingers, having more movement between your middle finger and thumb specifically for that reason. You feel the vibrator press against your clit, while Izou licks your labia. You gasp against the gag, and Ace starts to work his cock into your mouth.

Marco and Thatch help Izou, holding and bracing your legs, keeping you even more immobile than you already had been. When all of them got into it at the same time, things often got very intense.

Marco had his fruit, but Izou did not.

And thank the gods for that.

Ace kept your head steady, and Marco and Thatch made sure you weren’t going to squirm away. Izou’s tongue laps at your clit a few times before his fingers go to work and his tongue pushes into your cunt. Moaning against Ace’s cock, you wriggle against the iron grips of Marco and Thatch, but not in any attempt to try and get free.

The rush of the struggle was just what you wanted, and neither one would let you squirm free unless you started snapping your fingers.

“Greedy thing,” Izou hums. “You’ve got a good hold of her, you two should tickle her feet. Make her work for it.”

The sounds you make are ones of protest as you try to earnestly wriggle away from the threat of being tickled. You’re too soundly tied, and held, to have any hope of escape, and now you understood why the gag had been put in.

Ace pulls back and out as Marco and Thatch tickle your feet, leaving you to screech and laugh from it, the sounds mixed with salacious moans. Izou was showing you no mercy, his tongue and lips worshiping your trembling folds, and his fingers teasing your clit. It’s nothing but your sounds filling the small room.

Moans.

Laughter.

Moans.

Muffled laughter as Ace pushes back into your throat. The intrusion distracts you from the tickling a little bit, and you’re more moans than choking laughter. Marco and Thatch are easing up a little as your pleasure builds, or you’re just not able to feel the tickling over the building orgasm. You don’t get tickled often so you aren’t sure.

Ace doesn’t last long, either because of the situation itself, or the sensation of you laughing against his cock. He cums on your face, always preferring to cover and mark you, instead of fill you. He swears softly and a moment after you thought he was done he cums again, coating your tongue, and letting it dripped down your chin.

“Fuck, she’s hot like that.” He gasps.

“Help her,” Thatch says.

You feel Ace’s lips pressing against yours, kissing around the circle your mouth’s forced into by the gag. His warm hands cup your breasts softly, the light touch sending thrills into your chest. Your whining moans fill the air as Izou finally starts to bring you to the peak.

The tremble in your legs makes Thatch and Marco open them just a little bit further. The soft ache from the stretch is nothing against the pleasure of Izou’s mouth and hands. Ace stops playing with your breasts long enough to pull the gag out for you, letting you rest your forehead against his shoulder while he continues to tease your stiff nipples.

Dribbles of swear tumble from your lips in a mix of moans and sobs. The slow build of pleasure, the orgasms before this, the teasing, the rough rush of the brush against your clit, all of it was coming to a head and your exhausted body could hardly hold onto. It’s more than a simple shiver that rolls through your body, and you start shaking. The only reason no one stops is because you’re begging for them to keep going.

“Please, please, please, please, fuck, please, don’t stop, gods, fucking - fuck! Fuck, it’s good, so good, it’s-!” Gasping your body tenses from your toes to your fingers. It’s making your body shudder, and you’re sobbing from the building pleasure.

Ace is hugging you, leaving your breasts alone as you scream against his shoulder. Babbled words, desperate pleas, and garbled apologies, as you cum hard against Izou’s face. You swear you can feel him swallowing your pleasure, his hands rubbing circles against your stomach.

You babble something, and Ace pats your head.

“You did good,” he says softly, shrugging as the four of them lower you back down onto the cushions.

“You did exceptionally.” Izou assures you. Somehow his makeup is still perfect, though strands of his hair have come loose and are hanging down around his face as he leans over you. “You exceeded my expectations, sweet flower.”

“Hard,” you sigh as Izou and Thatch begin to slowly untie you. “Came hard,” you murmur the words and Ace and Marco begin to rub your limbs. There’s smiles and soft chuckles all around.

“Came really hard,” you say, a soft satisfied sound escaping you.

“You did beautifully,” Izou reassures you.

“The best little teapot.” Thatch adds, tapping your nose gently.

“You… didn’t do so bad yourselves.” You manage, laughing with a little more energy this time.

“Anything hurt, pretty bird?” Marco questions, his bright eyes catching your gaze and making sure you’re aware enough to answer him properly.

You shake your head. “Muscles are a little sore,” you admit, letting them move you around as they pull the last of the ropes away. “Limbs are kind of wibbly.”

“Wibbly?”

“Very technical term, doctor.” You grin.

Marco leans down and kisses your forehead. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“I… I think I wouldn’t mind having tea… once… a month?” You prompt, feeling heat rush to your face as everyone looks at you.

“I was worried you were going to say once a week.” Izou grins. “But I think that’s not asking too much.”

“I don’t know that I’d be able to do much around the ship if it was that often.” You admit sheepishly, letting Ace and Thatch help you sit up. “Whoa.” You sink into the two of them and they adjust quickly, steadying and supporting you.

“You alright?” Thatch asks and you nod, eyes closed.

“Little dizzy, but it’s passing.”

“I’ll get some more water, and something for you to eat.” Izou says, standing up. “Thatch and Marco can get you cleaned up, and Ace you can help them if they need it.”

Izou comes over and caresses your face, giving you a gentle smile. “Good job, sweet flower. You did beautifully.”

#Tea Ceremony #x reader #reader insert #izou one piece #thatch one piece #portgas d ace #marco the phoenix #mdni

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