#// These are some of the ones that really speak to me for various reasons

[vermutandherring]

This is gonna be really long long read

Recently, my post with the paintings of Wilhelm Kotarbinski attracted a lot of attention from a couple of individuals. In this post, I share paintings for The Sims 4. 41 paintings that represent Kotarbinski's work in different periods of his life, on various motives. Against the background of my other publications, this is a rather unpopular post with a small number of likes and reposts (big respect to those who do this). This post is practically invisible by the standards of Tumblr and especially the Internet.

But it is noticeable for certain individuals who came under this post not for sims or even pictures. They appeared to restore justice and correct me, although I would rather call it bullying and humiliation of the national dignity not only of me, but of the entire Ukrainian people. But I don't want to play the victim. I just want to refute these arguments in a good way.

Take 1 – Kotarbinski is a Polish artist. Calling him Ukrainian means appropriating Polish heritage.

A lot of confusion arises when we talk about the past - the times of the existence of empires, when most modern countries (in this context, European ones) were under the oppression of metropolises. For some reason, a certain number of people still think in these categories, dividing countries into "newer" and "older". The purpose of such distribution is simple – to diminish the importance of the mentioned country. But we will gradually return to this issue.

But there is another, less obvious reason why it is difficult to talk about people of the past. Centuries ago, people did not think the way we do today - I am a citizen of this country, and therefore I carry its culture. Before the First World War, people preferred to identify themselves with a certain social class, a certain stream of like-minded people, a type of employment or religious denominations. They were subjects of their states, members of their noble and not so noble families, were Christians, Jews or representatives of other denominations, and only then representatives of some country or nation. And if the things created by people themselves do not give us a hint of their own position, our own thoughts are only speculations.

T. Shevchenko. Self-portrait 1860 (with a candle) (paper, etching on pleura, aquatint)

For example, let's take the artist Taras Shevchenko. He was a subject of the Russian Empire, which he hated, his work and life took place in Ukraine, he was Ukrainian by birth and wrote in Ukrainian, criticizing the government. There are no questions about his nationality and self-identification.

How about, for example, the artist Vasyl Tropinin? Tropinin was born in the Novgorod province, the territory of russia. He was of russian origin, studied at the St. Petersburg Academy of Arts and lived most of his life in russia. At the art academy where I studied, among the various art history courses, we had a separate subject on the history of 'russian art'. The art of no other country or period was defined as a separate subject. Except for russian (which somehow miraculously had a special status). But surprisingly, Tropinin did not appear in this subject as a russian artist. He was considered in the context of the history of Ukrainian art as an artist who represented the Ukrainian culture of the first half of the 19th century. Tropinin himself spoke about his work as follows:

Again, notice - I do not indicate that he was considered Ukrainian by origin. It was his work that was defined as Ukrainian, and therefore he himself is defined as a Ukrainian artist in the scientific studies of art critics based on the nature of his works. He owns many portraits depicting the Ukrainians of Podillia and their national clothes, emphasizing the diversity of Ukrainian culture. We can say that Tropinin is a russian by nationality, who has a Ukrainian period of his art.

Art by Tropinin

Speaking of this, I would rather pay attention to such a Ukrainian artist as Ilya Repin (real name - Ilya Ripa), Ukrainian artist of Armenian origin Ivan Ayvazovsky (real name - Hovhannes Ayvazyan) or composer of Ukrainian origin Pyotr Tchaikovsky ( real name is Petro Chayka). At this moment, you will most likely raise an eyebrow and distrust what you read, because all your life you have heard that these are Russian artists. But they are russian only because of the imperial hand of the russian empire, which represented the culture of the captured territories as its own cultural diversity.

Moreover, playing along with the empire and pandering to its colonial policy was the only way to "break out into the high society" and become something more than an ordinary peasant from the colony. For this, you had to do a few simple steps: to give up one's cultural identity, speak russian, and change a difficult (by russian standards) surname to one that is easier for russian to pronounce. That is why I added their real names in parentheses.

They know perfectly well what it means to sell one's soul to the devil

What does Wikipedia tell us?

Ukrainian-born, but still Russian. After all, I cannot deny the simple fact that their work, their life and fame really have a very close connection with Russia, at least because they were its citizens. In Tchaikovsky, you will find many works inspired by Russian culture, such as the operas Oprychnyk, Yevgeniy Onegin, The Queen of Spades, etc. The Cossack origin did not prevent the composer from distorting the image of the Ukrainian hetman Ivan Mazepa in the opera of the same name. The image, which in contrast to the Russians, who historically perceived Mazepa as a traitor, had an epic and romantic image in the works of European artists (in the works of Lord Byron, for example).

Ukrainian motifs prevail in Ilya Repin's work. His most famous works depict the Cossacks and the Ukrainian countryside, but he himself, despite his descent from the Cossack family and great love for his native land, identified himself as a russian, separating himself from the 'little russians'.

Art by Ilya Repin

After this lengthy passage, in which I prove that often the origin does not say much about the affiliation of the artist, we can return to so much suffered Kotarbinski. Wilhelm Kotarbinski was born in Neborów, in the central region of Poland. The boy was interested in drawing from childhood, so after entering the Warsaw gymnasium, he additionally attended drawing courses. While studying in Warsaw, young Kotarbinski fell in love with a cousin - a relationship that the family could not allow, and therefore gave the girl in marriage to someone else. Shocked by this, Kotarbinski decided to leave Warsaw and go to Rome. Kotarbinski lived in Italy for 15 years, where during this time he managed to graduate with a silver medal from the Art Academy of St. Luke.

The joke about the fact that Kotarbinski studied and lived in Italy, but for some reason is not considered an Italian artist, looks a bit lame. As Viktoriya Sukovata points out in the study "Wilhelm Kotarbinski, the forgotten genius of Ukrainian Modern", being a Pole, Kotarbinski received an academic base in Rome, and therefore to some extent he can be called a representative of the Italian art school.

Roman Orgy

In 1888, Kotarbinski returned to Warsaw, where he was able to marry his already widowed cousin, although over time he realized that this marriage did not bring him the desired joy. So at the invitation of his old friends from the Roman period, the Svedomskyi brothers - russian artists - Kotarbinski moved to Kyiv. Here he actively took part at exhibitions, being one of the most active Kyiv artists.

Imitating the organizational forms of The Itinerants (association of artists of the russian empire, including Ukrainian artists), in May 1893 Wilhelm Kotarbinski, together with Vladyslav Galimsky and other artists, appealed to the authorities with an official request to approve the charter of the Kyiv Society of Art Exhibitions. In 1897, he became a member of the Kyiv Society of Antiquities and Arts, which was reformed from the Society for the Promotion of Arts. It can be said that the Kyiv cultural environment was not alien to the Polish artist at all, and he actively contributed to his work with his creativity and social activities.

Paintings Roman Orgy and Death of Messalina at an exhibition in Lviv, 1894

If you are a little familiar with the history of art, you will notice that Kotarbinski's works, with their Ancient and Oriental motifs and chosen themes, is very reminiscent of the works of representatives of mid-19th-century academicism, Lawrence Alma-Tadema and Henryk Siemiradzki. However, as Viktoriya Sukovata points out in her already mentioned article, this perception is a bit wrong, since Kotarbinski was working at the end of the century. Instead of the romantic interpretation and fascination with the past, inherent in the middle of the last century, Kotarbinski perceived exotic Orientalism through the prism of the decadent present, on which was superimposed the mystical aesthetics picked up by Kotarbinski from the cultures of Eastern Europe.

This mysticism is particularly visible in his erotic female images. According to the researcher, they are inspired by such currents of European modernism as Jugendstil and Vienna Secession, which enriched his Italian academic base with "bright decorativeness, sophisticated plots and symbolism." It was during this second Polish and Kyiv period that Kotarbinski painted many canvases depicting creatures from Slavic mythology. Numerous mavkas, mermaids, female spirits of nature, ghosts and other creatures are permanent characters in his works.

It is also worth mentioning the fact that, in addition to easel works, Kotarbinski had extensive experience in painting churches. He painted Orthodox and Catholic churches in Ukraine and Belarus, the most famous of which is the Volodymyr Cathedral in Kyiv, as well as the Church of St. Nicholas in Radomysl (Zhytomyr Region, Ukraine), the Cathedral of Tree Anastasias in Glukhiv (Sumy Region, Ukraine), etc.

The ceiling in Volodymyr's Cathedral in Kyiv, painted by Kotarbinski.

This, in turn, could not help but leave an imprint on Kotarbinski's work. In Orthodoxy, the temple is the embodiment of God's house on earth and a semblance of paradise for Christians. Its inner space should remind the believer of his purpose and life path, in which he is accompanied by saints, martyrs, archangels and other forces of the heavenly host. Kotarbinski worked on the frescoes of the church under the supervision of Sviedomskyi, because as a Catholic, he could not be allowed to independently paint an Orthodox church. Perhaps that is why, in this period of Kotarbinsky's work, in addition to nymphs, he also depicts numerous angels of death, drowning women or paintings with the leading motif of death, full of the same aesthetic mysticism, but in different context.

"Stop. What all this does with the aesthetics of mysticism ?" - you ask. This is about my answer to not so respected person that the environment has a considerable influence on the creativity of any artist:

I'm sorry for the 'forks' typo, it was about works.

Do you really believe that after living in another country for more than 30 years, you can remain completely untouched by the local culture? But in the eyes of someone, I am the thief here for calling Kotarbinski a Ukrainian artist for his conscious choice to incorporate local motifs into his works. However, his most significant role for Ukrainian art is bringing the style and themes of European art of that time to Ukrainian. Viktoriya Sukovata writes about this in the already mentioned work:

Panels from the Tereshchenki-Khanenki house, created by Kotarbinski. Photo from the site Culture.PL

Returning to the question itself - whether Kotarbinski can be called a Ukrainian artist based on the nature of his creative heritage, I believe that there is every reason for this. Firstly, Wilhelm Kotarbinski spent a significant part of his life in Kyiv, surrounded by its artistic life, in which he actively participated. He not only enriched Ukrainian culture with European modern trends, but also borrowed local motifs in his work, creating his mystical worlds full of mythical creatures.

Take 2 – Kotarbinski could not be a Ukrainian artist, because Ukraine did not exist.

Here I'd like to address both disreputable individuals who repeated this slogan twice in different variations:

Can you guess who else likes to use this narrative about "Ukraine didn't exist"?

Here I would like to introduce my Polish not-friends to one russian under my post, dated October 31, 2023. This was a post in which I adapted for The Sims 4 novel "Vyi" by the writer Mykola Gogol, calling him Ukrainian because of him (you won't believe) being a Ukrainian.

I will not raise a historical polemic about who owns which lands and when which state arose. After all, in such a case, it is possible to reach extremes, in which Ireland never existed without Britain, and Poland without the soviet union. Doesn't sound very nice, does it? But the imperial past of Poland and russia still allows certain individuals to draw this trump card and throw it in the face of Ukrainians, whose separate country really did not exist for a long time precisely because of them. But for some reason they don't like to mention it. Currently, Ukrainians are going through a difficult stage of self-identification, collecting parts of our culture, scattered by empires over the centuries, barbarically looted and erased from the face of the earth. A very convenient position is to ban culture and language, erase at least a hint of its existence and appropriate it, and then declare that neither such a nation nor its "poor culture" exists.

I want to add only one thing: Kyiv has always been Ukrainian, and no barbaric capture by another state for over 10 centuries made it either the cradle of some imaginary civilization, or the mother of distant and foreign cities for us.

I wrote "Polish-Ukrainian" artist precisely because Kotarbinski was an important part of Ukrainian cultural life of the beginning of the 20th century; precisely because that is how it is defined by the art history scientific community, and not my personal whim. It is thanks to him that the St. Volodymyr Cathedral has its majestic interior full of mystical awe, the house of the Khanenkos is filled with exotic panels with Oriental motifs, and Ukrainian museums preserve rare easel works of the artist, which embody the tragic uncertainty of the future, so characteristic of all European art of this era.

Wilhelm Kotarbiński in his workshop in the hotel 'Prague', Kyiv. Photo: Central Archive-Museum of Literature and Art of Ukraine.

Unlike the Ukrainian works in the Tretyakov Gallery in St. Petersburg, Kotarbinski's works were not stolen, illegally exported, or shamelessly appropriated under the guise of "evacuation" or forced restoration. Kotarbinski spent the last years of his life in Kyiv. Against the background of the First World War, his fate was not the best. He died poor and forgotten, unable to return to his homeland in Poland. Today, his works are kept in museums in Warsaw, st. petersburg, Ukrainian Kyiv and Sumy. His work is examined from the perspective of all three countries with which he was in contact, and the scientist of each of the countries will emphasize those aspects of his work that are related to this country. But for God's sake, no one tries to steal from a dead person, unless you're into strange practices.

What to do to see Ukrainian culture?

For example, to begin with, open your eyes. This can be especially difficult if you're a prejudiced chauvinist, but it's worth a try. Next, as the fastest solution, I can offer you the blog @vintage-ukraine, where works of Ukrainian fine art, films, famous Ukrainian cultural figures, historical photos, musical works, etc. are published every day. As a next step, I can recommend the Культуртригер channel, in which the authors talk about Ukrainian fine art and refute imperial narratives about Ukrainian art that have been cultivated for centuries. This channel is in Ukrainian, but it seems quite similar and easy to understand for Russian and Polish speakers, so I think you won't have any problems with it. According to the same principle, I can recommend the Ukrainian-language literary channel Твоя Підпільна Гуманітарка, where authors research and talk about Ukrainian literature, language and mythology in an accessible form.

If you don't see something, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist

Many thanks to my Ukrainian friends for their support 💖

P.S: If you think that all this post is about my personal drama and offence, I kindly recommend you to pay a visit to @lichozestudni and read just a bit more. You'll find a lot of interesting things 👋 (Please, I'm not calling for threats and humiliation. You can use Tumblr's tools for regulating this kind of thing).

[astrxealis]

did you know i love final fantasy so goddamn much (specifically xiv, xv, and xvi rn)

[warriorsparked]

MUSE  PLAYLIST.

   post  3 - 5  songs  that  remind  you  of  your  muse.

RULES :   repost,  don’t  reblog.

1. Ego Painted Grey -- Angra 

This endless torture's building up my rage Holding on, hide my agony I'm getting weary just to be alive All I want is help!!!

2. Warrior Heart -- Kreator 

I was born with a Warrior heart I was raised in a land of aggression A savage outcast right from the start While awake forever free Have returned to what should I burn From the ghettos to the temple of my vision Now I rejoice as the country implodes For this day I keep myself alive

3. Show Me How to Live -- Royal Hunt 

In the midnight hour I'm sitting by the fire, Running out of memories to burn Look, I'm in your power - beaten down and tired, Waiting for the last thing left to learn So show me how to live, cuz all I do is trying To honestly forgive, but patience's running dry So show me how to live: you can't keep denying What all you've had to give - a thousand ways to die Now show me how to live

4. Crush ‘Em -- Megadeath 

Last one standin' wins the fight Hear us scream and shout all night Down on the floor and eat the grit This is gonna hurt a little bit

Heads I win, tails you lose Out of my way, I'm comin' through Roll the dice, don't think twice And we crush (crush), crush 'em (crush 'em)

5. Day Sixteen: Loser -- Ayreon 

Look at you, lying there, defenceless and alone See I am no fool, I always knew you wouldn't make it on your own

'cause you're just like your mother, well, where is she now? You'll end up like her soon, 6 feet under ground, loser!

Tagged by: Stole it. :) Steal it from me~ :O 

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[rougepancake]

Just My Type

FT. Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, & Giorno Giovanna

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

WARNINGS: Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Fem!Reader. Stalking, panty stealing, inappropriate use of stands, pervy jojos, masturbation, accurate to their individual timelines. Don Giorno and Cop Josuke. NOT PROOFREAD!!

SUMMARY: Perv headcanons for the JoJo’s up through part five. Might make one for the JoBros-

JONATHAN JOESTAR

Out of all of them, he feels the most guilt

He’s a gentleman, after all

First it starts out with him eyeing your body, taking subtle peeks throughout the day

It then escalates to him brushing against you gently, and it kills him

There’s not much he can do outside of watching you and getting off to you before bed

SPEAKING OF THAT-

He humps his pillow

God he’s so desperate and needy too

Especially when you have no idea. For whatever reason, it makes his heart swell

But he feels so bad about it. What if you ever found out? What would you do? Do you feel the same way about him??

Once saw you riding your horse and was genuinely never the same after that

There was something about how determined you looked, with that wistful look in your eyes that just turned him on

He’s so down bad that he asked Dio for advice

“Get her drunk and convince her to stay. She’s stupid enough anyways.” “Grope her… duh…”

Dio does NOT give two shits about wether not his advice is legal

However, Jonathan follows through with the alcohol one

It’s his only chance to get close to you outside of studying alongside you

And to his surprise, you come over and share some wine with him

Thankfully, you wind up getting tipsy first, which gives him the chance to make his move

“Ah, y/n. It’s not safe for you to travel back to your estate in such a condition. Allow me to provide you with somewhere to spend the night.”

He lets you stay in his bed, and even convinces you to wear his clothes to bed

Snuck into the room while you were asleep and just watched you

Oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn’t. It felt like he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you and it bothered him so

Also practically ruined his clothes once he got them back. (Listen man sometimes it’s hard to get cum stains out-)

Dio never lets him hear the end of it and proceeds to give him shitty advice

JOSEPH JOESTAR

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- this man is a WHORE‼️

He has no shame whatsoever and refuses to keep his feelings for you a secret

In fact, you can barely tell if he’s kidding or not when he hits on you

He steals your clothing

Shirts? Gone. Bras? Never to be seen again. Panties? Oh he’ll steal them, ruin them, and then slip them back into your dresser when he’s over

He loves the idea of getting away with it, and it turns him on to know that you’re just as clueless as ever

Slips pictures of himself into your house, leaving them on the counter to make you think of him

Honestly thinks he’s so smooth (Caesar thinks he’s fucking weird)

Has no problem with smacking your ass out of the blue

Also really likes to pick you up and bury his face in your chest

Has collected various photos of you and gets off to them almost every night

Like it’s just a pic of you smiling and he’s hard as hell

While Jonathan whimpers and begs, Joseph moans and mutters

On the loudness scale he’s about 13/10

He does not give a flying FUCK about who hears him

Talks dirty while he fucks his hand, closing his eyes to picture your beautiful face between his legs, smiling up at him

Yeah he likes to take sneak peeks of you in the bath, so what?!

Does all of this with the mentality of “she’ll be mine eventually, so I’m entitled to a head start-“

JOTARO KUJO

Feels a little guilty about it at first, but never feels that way ever again once he gets ahold of a Polaroid of you in a bikini

Carries that shit around with him EVERYWHERE

He has also collected various photos of you, and has a mini photo album that’s dedicated to pictures of you smiling

Sorry but I think he’s into dacryphilia

Sure he loves to see you happy and enjoying yourself, but he just thinks you look so pretty when you cry

He fucking loves it when you come to him in tears, taking it as his chance to wrap his arm around you and bring you in closer to him

He constantly tells you that you’re annoying, but would smash you in a heartbeat

Enemies to lovers bs but he’s in love with you from the start

He prefers to steal your bras over anything else (he seriously has a thing for tits-) and DOES NOT give them back until they stop smelling like you

He also (occasionally) steals your shirts and replaces them with his own. The idea of you walking around in one of his shirts when it’s too big for you really gets him going

Loves to take you out for drinks and then escort you back home

Even better if you’re a lightweight

It gives him a reason to carry you back to your place and tuck you in bed

Once found your ‘special drawer’ while snooping around and fucking stole your vibrator

Granted, he bought you a much better one and snuck it into your drawer, but you were pissed when you noticed it’s absence

He has, and will continue to, use Star Platinum/The World to stop time and get his hands on you

Even if it’s just for a few seconds, he’ll be thinking about it all day

Oh god and Star Platinum loves you too

Grabs and holds you. 10/10 cuddler, even if Jotaro is incredibly embarrassed

You’ve always just seen it as ‘Jotaro’s lonely side’ and nothing more, so you don’t tell off Star

Star has been known to sneak away from Jotaro just to hang out with you

If you and Joot ever end up sharing a hotel room together for any reason, Star will hump you in your sleep

Now, Jotaro lets out low grunts and moans, but is typically quiet when getting off. STAR PLATINUM???? Fucking whimpers and whines like there’s no tomorrow

This man is hanging on by a thread

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA

Man

On the guilt scale, he’s second place for sure

Feels HORRIBLE

But is also like his dad with the “yolo” mentality

Steals your shirts and shorts, sleeps in them (even if they’re too small), and refuses to give them back

Like your clothes just keep vanishing and you’re like ???

Has used Crazy Diamond to sneak into your place and has no real intentions of stopping

Has a shit ton of photos of you sleeping hidden away in his room

Really just wants to hear you call him a good boy

When he’s needy, he is NEEDY. Humps his pillow, whimpers, whines, the whole ass package

His hand just isn’t enough for him anymore

Unlike his father, he’s not brave enough to get close to you or touch you. My guy can’t even hug you without turning a bright shade of red

Oh and if you come over to play games with him, he’s a total goner

Absolute mess of a man

Can’t do shit without being embarrassed, so he’s a lot less weird than the others

But by god what he would give to hear you call him a good boy

It’s like his one dream

Rohan once used Heaven’s Door on him to get more dirt on him and has (some) no regrets. Will never let Josuke hear the end of it.

“Ohoho you like y/n? Josuke you good for nothing pervert. Give the woman a break.”

Prays that one day you’ll be in trouble and he’ll be the officer sent out to save you

GIORNO GIOVANNA

He’s one second away from going full blown yandere

You can’t change my mind

He’s got everything he needs at his fingertips, and could easily take you away without having to lift a finger

Openly flirts with you, but treats you with such respect that you can’t tell if he’s just being nice or not

Also spoils you

Buys you anything he’s ever seen you take interest in

Even if you don’t really want it, it WILL show up at your door eventually

Makes sure to sign his gifts to you so you don’t forget who it is that’s spoiling you like this

Kisses your hand and cheeks in a way that he claims is platonic

Loves it when you trust him enough that you can come to him for anything. Gossip? Do tell. Something bothering you? Just let him know and he’ll have it all sorted out in no time

I shit you not he makes you sit on his lap while you tell him about your day

You think it’s because the two of you are such good friends, but he actually just loves the sight of you pressed against him

His voice gets higher pitched when he gets off, and he begs a version of you that doesn’t exist to let him cum, pleading with you over and over

Eventually, he’ll start to feel bad about it, but he’d much rather live in the moment

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[redeyerhaenyra]

What sex toys would T141 use?

Summary: title :) headcanons of what sex toys I think t141 would use

Warnings: heavy smut! various elaborate sex toys, bit of electric shock play in Johnny's, phone sex, brief mention of anal beads, Simon being too hard on himself, Simon being touched starved, Simon being.. Simon, let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Getting this out to feed you all as I'm STILL working on that Simon smut I promised and it's only at 2k words 😭

Kyle Garrick

Kyle is a confident man

He knows what he likes, he isn't afraid to buy and try new toys

He has some anal beads for himself, doesn't use them all the time

Only when he's having an extra special night to himself✨️

He has one of those clear fleshlights

Kyle's a bit of a voyeur he likes watching himself 😏

Also has an extensive lube collection

Like, different kinds

Flavoured, tingly, aphrodisiac, ect

He'll change what lube he uses depending on his mood :P

Johnny Mactavish

Oh Johnny

Johnny Johnny Johnny

Look up the word "horny" in the dictionary a picture of this man's face comes up

He spends his hard earned military paycheck on those vibrating, self thrusting fleshlights with fucking handles on the outside

Also has a vibrating cock ring that will occasionally send little electric shocks through his cock :D

Like to think he also has just a plain dildo

Sometimes to use on himself, sometimes to suck on whilst he's fucking the fleshlight

Again, look up the phrase "oral fixation" there's a picture of his goddamn face

He also has one of those fake pussies and some fake silicone boobies for the same reason

He wants to suckle a clit or a boob in his mouth can you blame him?

He also will push the fake tits together and fuck them :P

The only reason THE ONLY REASON he doesn't take all these on deployment with him is that they wouldn't fit in his bag

Simon Riley

Poor Simon

He half thinks he doesn't deserve self pleasure

And half is kinda clueless when it comes to it other than the classic fist with a bit of spit as lube

He has fantasies about getting a generic fleshlight but he's also like

"Who would I need that I have my hands"

Like cmon Simon treat yourself 😭

Has thought about full on 300 quid sex dolls

The ones that are literally just. A silicone person

He'd never actually get one but occasionally he's so touched starved and needing to hold someone close he thinks about genuinely purchasing one 😭

John Price

I like to think John's taste in sex toys is... refined

Posh, even

I know it's so cliche to say John is old-fashioned but I truly believe he wouldn't ever dream of using modern male sex toys

They are "barbaric", he says, "teaches young men to only value a woman's body for sex".

No no, John won't be partaking in anything like that

He, a gentleman, uses phone-sex lines

To physically get off he'll use his fist, but he'll almost never do it without calling a.. "woman of the night".. and seducing her with his dulcet tones

He considers it a failure if the fine lady he's speaking with isn't also enjoying herself just as much as he

Really gets him going to be the source of someone else's, a professional pleasurers, pleasure

[pandoraslxna]

Lost and found - chapter 3

Adult!Neteyam x female human scientist

Words: 4k

Summary: Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Warnings: explicit smut, aged up characters, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, manipulation, size difference, language barrier, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior

Notes: check my masterlist for all parts

It was adorable, watching the tiny human female stumble around in such a hurry.

Neteyam watched her from afar, sitting on a branch far up from the ground, hiding behind leaves where nobody could see him right away. He watched her, through the thick windows that were on both sides of that thing. It was an outpost laboratory, he knew that much, from where the humans were doing their researches and studies from.

Hiding her from his clan and the rest of his family for the past day and a half was a real struggle. Neteyam knew Lo‘ak could only keep his mouth shut for so many days. He knew that it couldn’t continue like this, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he just wanted to keep her away from everyone else and have her all for himself for the rest of his life. It was impossible.

His little human scampers around the lab, hastily packing some of her strange utensils together. Neteyam watches with curiosity how she throws various books, technologies, exopacks and other stuff -that seemed unnecessary to him but probably meant the world to her- into a big backpack, until it was almost too heavy for her to carry. She glanced out of one of the big windows every time she passed it, clearly sensing that she was being watched. That made Neteyam smile to himself.

Checking to see if she had forgotten anything important, she looked around one last time, before putting on her mask and leaving through the heavy metal door. She had to push it open with both of her hands, using her full body weight. It finally opened with a hiss and then she took off, jogging deeper into the forest.

Neteyam raised to his feet to follow her and even though he wasn’t trying, he quickly caught up to her. Poor thing was seemingly exhausted from carrying that heavy backpack, that she had to slow down to catch her breathe not even five minutes later. With a chuckle, Neteyam climbs down from the tree and jumps to land on his feet, right next to her. Almost like the very first time they had met. With a yelp of surprise, she drops some of the stuff that she had carried in her hands, since her bag was already too full.

"Jesus christ, you scared me!", she wheezes, with a hand clutching to her chest and Neteyam couldn’t help but grin. She still seemed so nervous around him.

"Missed me already, little human?", he asks her teasingly and tilts his head, causing his braids to fall over his shoulder like spilled ink. She rests her back against a tree and sets her bag down for a moment, before she bends to collect her stuff off the ground. Shaking her head, she then sighs, "I still don’t understand a word of what you’re saying…" There’s a pause, as if she was trying to decide what would make this whole situation any less awkward for her– just saying nothing at all or at least try and communicate with the Na’vi in front of her.

Before Neteyam could speak up again, she quickly decides for the latter, "Anyways, I got some of my stuff", she points to her backpack demonstratively, "These are important things that I’ll need to continue my researches, so uhm… Thank you for allowing me to go back, that really means a lot to me." For a moment, they just look at each other. Neteyam musters her, trying to process the foreign words that fell from her lips. She tended to speak way too fast for him to understand her properly, when she was nervous. Yet her features were soft and she seemed satisfied, at least he thought so.

"Happy?" He asks her just to make sure, using the very few words he picked up from the sky people at high camp.

"Yes, i‘m happy", she smiles and nods. A small giggle escaped her by the sight of Neteyams tail swaying just a little more excitingly.

As his mate, he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and content. And she had begged him constantly to take her back. As far as Lo‘ak could translate, she had explained that she was, in fact, a scientist. A Xenobiologist to be more specific. Whatever that was supposed to mean…

To make it short, she told them that she was studying pandoras flora and wasn’t actually an active participant in the war. The RDA was nothing more to her than the assholes who paid for her research program. Lo’ak said that she had emphasized several times that she wouldn’t be a threat to them. How cute that she actually thought they would think of her as dangerous. Such a small, helpless human. He would probably break her if he were to hold her too tight.

She also told them about how she dismissed the way her race treated pandora and it’s people, which was a relief for them to hear. What Neteyam didn’t understand though, was why she still desired to go back to them. She wanted nothing more than to return to her laboratory and finish what she had started, even if it meant, working for these horrible people. To him, that didn’t make any sense. Humans were truly difficult to read and such weird creatures.

But she couldn’t return. She couldn’t go back and continue to live with the sky people like nothing ever happened.

Thankfully, Neteyam was able to reason her that she had to stay with him instead.

He made it sound like an offer, even though he wasn’t actually giving her a choice, when he told her that she could come with him and keep studying whatever her human heart desired. He was grateful that she willingly agreed to this, otherwise he wouldn’t have known what to do.

Neteyam didn’t even need Lo’ak to translate that part for him, because he had… let’s just say he had very good arguments that finally made her agree on staying with him.

Biologically, Neteyams heat had passed by now, her scent not triggering his urge to mate with her anymore. However, he still couldn’t stay away from her.

Not that he actively tried to.

Leaning in close to her, Neteyam placed a tender kiss to her cheek. And another, following her jawline. He felt her swallow thickly when he dipped his head down low and kissed the soft skin of her throat. His sweet and tender kisses soon turned into much more than that, until his tongue darted out to lick a wet stripe over her pulse point, where he felt her heartbeat quicken. He then nibbled on her ear, briefly closing his teeth around it and she exhales a shaky breathe, "Oh fuck… W-Why are you so... why are you like this all the time?"

Was she complaining? Neteyam had a hard time figuring out the meaning of her words. It didn’t seem like she didn’t enjoy this. Not in the slightest, considering how hot her skin grew underneath his touch and how her breathing hitched with every kiss and how she didn’t resist him, not even once. He may not understand her verbally, but he was pretty good at reading his mates body language by now.

Neteyam straightens his back again to look at her properly. "You don’t like it?“, he spoke her language with heavy accent, rising his brows. Even his ears pricked up to hear what she had to say.

„N-No— i mean, yes... yes, I- I like it“, the human mumbled, stumbling over her own words and her cheeks flushed red instantly.

One thing he had learned about her by now was how easily flustered she got. Her whole face would turn red when he would do nothing more but look at her for too long.

Neteyam loved how she would shy away and tried to avoid his gaze, seemingly embarrassed just from a little eye contact. He also figured that she enjoyed his voice. She may not understand what he was saying most of the time, but he saw the way she unobtrusively clenched her thighs together whenever he spoke to her. Especially so, if he was holding eye contact. Knowing this, he had only recently started to tease and bend her to his will. With great success. And it wasn’t like she didn’t want the exact same things he was aiming for with his tactics, anyways.

A smug smile spread across his lips at her confession. His hands then found purchase on her hips as he stepped even closer, until she was flush against the tree behind her and caged by his much taller frame. Neteyam didn’t feel any shame about how fast he was starting to get hard just by the sight of her. He realized pretty quickly that he couldn’t blame it on his heat anymore, couldn’t blame it on her sweet scent that made him loose his mind. Now it was just because of her. Because of the way she felt against him, because of the way she looked at him and because of the way his heart squeezed tight beneath his rib cage just by the thought of her. His little human mate.

Eyes dragging down her body, Neteyam takes in everything that his hands have been feeling and exploring for the past days. Her body was so different from his. So frail. Wanting to see more of her, he pulls at the hem of her shirt to ride it up, until her chest came into view. Neteyam didn’t like that she had exchanged the clothes he gave her for her weird human clothes again. He preferred her with the clothes of his people. Neteyam was playing with the thought of making her something more personal, giving her clothes that he made specifically for her. Maybe she would want to wear those. He made a mental note on that, before he continued his explorations.

Hooking a slender finger underneath the extra piece of fabric that covered her breasts, he pushed that upwards too and exposed more of her flawless and soft looking skin. If she was pretty to him, she must be outright extremely beautiful for human standards, he thought to himself.

Neteyam simply looked at her for a short while, taking in every newly revealed inch of her, until she decides to help in stripping off, pulling both pieces of clothing over her head and letting it fall to the ground. Moving down her body, he pampers her in kisses, making her squirm and gasp. He crouches down in front of her, lips latching onto a nipple and biting down slightly. A sharp moan leaves her lips, trailing off as he continues to kiss and suck, his fingers reaching up to the other, ensuring it gets the same treatment.

Neteyam has always been selfless. But he was being especially selfless when it came to her. The combination of carving her so much and his determination to prove to her, that he was a good mate and very much capable of making her feel good was doing strange things to him.

His lips traveled lower, kissing her stomach and the space right under her navel. He feels her shiver when he reaches the waistband of her pants and underwear, pulling them both down slowly. The little human finds leverage on his shoulders as she helps him undressing her, by lifting one foot at the time, stepping out of her clothes so he could throw them aside. Were it for Neteyam, he would’ve just ripped them apart like the first time, but he sensed that she probably wouldn’t be very happy about that happening again. Although he would love to see his mate turn a little feisty, he decides against it.

Neteyams eyes were glued on hers, even as he pressed the flat of his nose against her core and slid his tongue through her folds, tasting her. With his hands firm on the backside of her thighs, he could feel her knees buckle when he found her clit and sucked on it, watching as her eyes flutter closed.

"How bad do you want it, sweet girl?", Neteyam asks her, giving a final kiss to her mound before he rises to his full height again. The tiny human swallows thickly with the way he was towering over her now. Her eyes are wide and questioning, wondering what he had asked her about. So he shows her instead.

One of his hands reaches down to cup her sex, to feel how wet she was. He swipes a finger through her folds and presses against her tight opening. She whimpers, but his finger starts to slide in so easily, he lets it sink down to the second knuckle before pulling it back up. "That bad, hm?" Demonstratively, he holds his slick covered digit in front of her face, smearing her arousal between his fingers, before popping them into his mouth to lick them clean.

The human watches with her eyes wide and cheeks reddened as Neteyam hums at her taste. She seemingly tries to be subtle about it, but he can clearly see how closely she watches him undress then. When his loincloth falls, her mouth parts slightly as if she was trying to say something, but no words seem to come out. Neteyam couldn’t help but chuckle. Whatever she was going to say quickly dies down in her throat and turns into a small gasp, once he bends down and lifts her off the ground by her thighs. Instinctively, she swings her arms around his neck and wraps her short legs around his waist tightly. She’s so much closer to him like this, with her body flush against his own– Neteyam loves it.

The human, on the other hand, squirmed a lot in his arms. Her small hands cling to him with all her might and her legs squeeze tight around his waist like she was scared to fall. Did she really doubt his strength? How cute, he thinks, such a tiny thing and she really thought he couldn’t carry her. Like she didn’t weight no more to him than just a feather.

"I won’t drop you, little one", he whispers in her ear, "Just relax for me." The soothing tone in his voice was enough for her to loosen up a bit. More so, when he gently lowered her enough so his cock could catch on her entrance.

The tiny human may be able to take him, but she still feels so suffocatingly tight around him as Neteyam pushes inside. Her wet heat was already familiar to him, yet it always felt just a little better than last time.

He breathed in, deep and sharp and he tried so hard to resist burying his face in her neck because he wanted to watch her. He wanted to see her face confront in pleasure as her body tried to adjust to his size, parted lips spilling moans and whimpers as he lowered her on his cock.

"Oh fuck, that’s it", Neteyam groans between gritted teeth, "so tight, feels so good."

The stretch that came with his first thrust was insane. He knew she could feel every merciless inch of him enter her tight cunt, before he pulled himself all the way out, just to do it again. Harder this time. Her mouth fell open and she moaned, oh so sweet like honey, it made him want to devour her. Despite her flustered state, she managed to hold eye contact with him and that in return, made him so much harder. If that was even physically possible.

"You’re taking me so well", his voice was low and raspy as he praised her, "Such a good girl, all for me, hm?" The little human certainly wasn’t dumb, she knew by the tone of his voice that he had asked her a question, but what? She didn’t know. Still, she nods her head frantically. If he kept making her feel so good, she would probably agree to anything he was saying.

At this current angle, Neteyam was able to repeatedly hit that spongey spot deep inside her and the sensation was mind blowing. Lost in her pleasure, she clawed her nails into his shoulders, urging him faster, harder, not caring if she was even able to take what she was asking for.

Neteyam could feel her walls tighten even more around him and he cursed under his breath as he did what her body was begging for. With his hands holding and spreading her, he pulls her down onto his cock to meet the thrust of his hips, producing loud sounds of flesh against flesh, that echoed through the forest. If they were unlucky, one of her little human friends would hear their obscene moans, as they weren’t far from the outpost lab… but Neteyam couldn’t care less right now. Should they come, come and see that she was now his and that she would never return to them ever again.

His brain had completely checked out sometime around when he felt her squeeze him so painfully tight, she didn’t even leave room for some of her slickness, so it started leaking out around where they were connected. The feeling of her arousal dripping down his balls almost made him loose himself altogether.

Her breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving her over the edge faster than she could probably even process it. She brabbles whatever nonsense comes to her fucked out mind, her need for release so shamefully on display that it made his cock throb inside her.

"Are you close? Great mother– you’re getting even tighter like this, haa fuck“, Neteyam groaned and then he finally allowed himself to rest his face in the space where her neck met her delicate shoulder. She just felt so good, way too good. He would spill any second if she kept clenching around him and filling his sensitive ears with all these noises.

His human moaned at each push, each thrust, trying to feel more of him by moving her hips as well. He could hear her beg between moans, breathlessly asking for more. And he would give her more if she wanted it. He would give her everything. Everything she desired, because she was his mate and her sweet pussy must’ve been a gift to him, sent by eywa herself. He would bring down a grown palulukan with his bare hands if she was asking for it.

But she was close. And right now, his only goal was to make his precious mate come, hard and shaking. He wanted to make her feel good, so incredibly good. Just as good as she was making him feel.

Soon, his little human had no more energy to keep chanting curses and moaning out loud, as she fell slack in his arms. She could only mumble and whine, drunk off of his cock, addicted to it like he was a drug. Neteyam gladly kept going like this, helping her to her release while also using her for his own pleasure too. His hands were still firm on her bottom, lifting her up and pushing her down onto his cock, until the tip was roughly kissing her cervix, making her mewl. His hips bucked up, fucking into her tight cunt so desperately fast that his rhythm became sloppy and uneven.

Meanwhile, his lips were sealed against her neck, abusing her soft, perfect skin to mark her as his own. His rough kisses would most definitely bruise by tomorrow, showing everyone his claim on her. She was his. His human. His mate.

"You’re mine", Neteyam murmured against her throat, voicing his thoughts without concern since she didn’t understand him anyway, "Mine, all mine. My sweet little human. Fuck, how do you even feel so good? You’re gonna make me cum, I’m so, so close."

The heat that pools in his lower abdomen feels as if it'll overflow, she was so hot and wet, everything just felt so intense. He was moaning, literally moaning, without a care in the world because what else was he supposed to do when she felt so fucking good? His body and his mind were collectively screaming at him, begging him to make the bond. Tsaheylu. Tsaheylu. Tsaheylu. But he couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. And as a compensation, he fucked her even harder.

"I’m– oh god, I’m coming! I’m– fuck I‘m coming, coming", she cried out and Neteyam felt her walls clamp down hard, her legs around his middle tensed and squeezed his waist and then his hips begin to stutter too. The humans eyes close tight and her brows push together and then she chokes back a sob and it feels like she was falling down a cliff and taking him with her.

Neteyam fucks her through both of their orgasms. He doesn't let her go just yet. He wanted to ride it out and make her squirm, loving the way his human mate writhed and rocked with nowhere to go because he held her tight in his arms, pumping her full of his cum until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her legs were twitching, soft whimpers leaving her parted lips and whatever words she was whining softly, they were probably meant to tell him she was spent, tired and overstimulated.

He thrusts up into her a few more times, just to make sure she would still feel him there tomorrow, before he mercifully stops the movements of his hips. Instantly, he feels her relax in his hold, feels her nuzzle her face against his collarbone and sigh. The mask she was wearing, separating her face from actually touching him, was cold and Neteyam hissed when the cool glass made contact with his hot skin.

Even though her eyes were shut and she was fighting the urge to lose consciousness, his human sensed the way Neteyam was shifting her limp body in his arms. As she was lifted slightly, with the intention of pulling his cock out of her and making her stand up so they could both get dressed again, her brows furrowed. Quickly, she locked both her arms and her legs tightly behind Neteyams back and around his neck. Still buried to the hilt in her, Neteyam hissed through clenched teeth. If she kept this up, he was left with no choice but to mate with her again. Not that he would mind.

"Noo", she complained softly as he attempted to get her off of him. But she continued to cling to him, like a baby Syaksyuk to its mother. Neteyam couldn’t deny that she was adorable like this. He would’ve never expected her to become this needy and touch starved with him and it made him beam with affection.

"What’s wrong? Are your tiny legs not working anymore, hm?", Neteyam teased her with a chuckle and even though she couldn’t understand, she still hid her face in the crook of his neck as if his words embarrassed her.

She was covered in a thin layer of sweat, her skin sticking to his own but he didn’t mind it, not at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite– it made him kind of proud to know that he was able to tire out and satisfy his little mate so fast. Neteyam could’ve easily went for another round, but giving that she was always so exhausted after they did it, he would allow her to rest. Even if it meant not moving for a while, because she had declared their current position as comfortable enough to take her rest right here and right now.

Right now would’ve been a good time to tell her. But still, Neteyam decides against it…

"I'm not leaving," he assured in a soft, soothing tone, one of his hands gently stroking her lower back as his own came to rest against a tree, "Go ahead, sleep if you want. We can stay like this for a while longer."

Telling the little human that he had chosen her as his mate was probably a little early he decided. Humans didn’t mate for a lifetime like Na‘vi did. Telling her that she now sort of belonged to him could end up in frightening her and Neteyam didn’t want that. Apart from that, they still struggled to communicate with each other for more than just one or two simple words, so it was almost impossible for him to make her understand something as complex as this.

He would have to tell her some time, obviously. But until then, he would take great pleasure helping her fall for him the same way he fell for her. And while she may not be able to bond with him the way his people did, he would still manage to make it work.

[veilkeeper]

thoughts on the astarion-halsin polymance

i know some people dont like the halsin polymance specifically if the PC's other partner is astarion but. i want to talk about it. because i think maybe a lot of people have come to conclusions without seeing the scenes in question for themselves. so let me give a different perspective.

disclaimers: *i know a lot of people ship/hc this polymance as a triad, but for the purposes of this post i'm talking specifically about the "hinge" dynamic we see in-game thx. **also i got the halsin romance trigger before completing astarion's personal quest, so this post is talking about that perspective, and all quotes are from those conversations. ***i respect people who dont play this route. you're allowed to play this game however you want. the purpose of this post is to discuss the canon, in-game text and how it supports the astarion-halsin polymance as a viable and healthy path for these relationships, with nuance and respect to astarion's personal issues. this is not meant to convert anyone, but it is meant to clarify and provide additional context that i feel is largely missing from a lot of discussions about how the polymance is "bad", unilaterally.

let's start with halsin, because i think he's the easier perspective to tease out here, given that he really leaves nothing to the imagination. he's incredibly earnest and open, and will happily describe his perspective on non-monogamy right out the gate. as he says...

The wolf mates for life, but the bear roams free and partners as its instinct dictates. I need to stay true to my nature, and you to yours.

now, to get ahead of potential backlash here... if you haven't spent a lot of time with halsin, particularly if you've never flirted with him, that line may imply that he's a "player". he is not. given the context of the PCs interactions with him up to this point (and how he treats the relationship after, if you confirm the romance), halsin is deeply devoted, and has really strong feelings for the PC. it's really sweet, i highly recommend romancing him, either as a polymance or solo.

what he's describing here is a perspective of cultural non-monogamy. that he believes his feelings are not diminished by having multiple relationships at the same time, and he expects that if the PC agrees to a relationship with him that they will respect his freedom to pursue others when/if such feelings arise, just as he will respect the PC's freedom to continue and/or pursue other relationships as well. it's a really succinct and frankly unexpectedly respectful negotiation of the terms of a polyam relationship.

and that respect is evident from the get go. if you've never seen this conversation, it basically opens with him saying "hey, i have these feelings about you, i was wondering if you maybe felt the same," and if the PC says that they do, he immediately acknowledges the existing relationship and tells the PC that they can't move forward without consent. and you cant; speaking to halsin again just has him ask the PC if they've spoken to their other partner yet. at every turn, halsin is incredibly respectful of the PCs other partner, he never diminishes that relationship, nor does he expect the PC to ever place him above that relationship. he even says:

Indeed, I am but one of your lovers. You and I should seek happiness, wherever it lies. You are all I want, but I will not hoard you to myself.

he makes it very clear from the get-go that he has no designs on the PC's other relationship and that he is more than happy to take whatever they want to give him.

which leads me to my overarching point: astarion is consenting to this dynamic specifically because the other person in question is halsin.

and we know this for a few reasons. first, because.... mechanically in game, he's the only person you can romance at the same time as astarion. while astarion mentions at various points that he is fine with "arrangements", generally speaking, every other potential romance partner results in a "you have to choose one of us" conversation. the reason astarion gives for why the PC has to choose varies, i believe, but since i don't have the dialogue on hand (i have been faithful as hell in my playthrough) i won't speculate about those conversations.

however, we also know that astarion is consenting to an arrangement with halsin specifically because of this line:

The druid is unique. He has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement. Thus, I'm sure it would be quite a harmless affair.

which is interesting, isn't it? hold onto this one, we'll circle back to it later. and then of course, the other line we need to discuss from astarion here is the famously controversial...

It's not because… you know… we haven't… in a while?

so this is where i get into the potentially controversial take that i have, because it's more nuanced than arguments i've seen on either side of the pro-/anti- polymance debate. but basically i think that astarion is... insecure. shocker, i know. but unlike some takes i've seen, i dont think this means he can't consent to a polyam relationship, i think it means that he has certain Conditions related to it, that he has decided have been met. and i think those conditions are as follows:

the PC's interest in halsin is not borne out of any deficiency of astarion's.

this is why he asks the famous question. he's insecure, and making sure that the PC's interest in halsin is not because astarion is failing to "satisfy" them, that it's not because he isn't enough. astarion has a lot of self-worth issues that he tries really hard to hide, and i think it would be easy for him to think that the PC starting another relationship could be a result of him being... insufficient.

for people who have never been in a polyam relationship, this is a thing. this is an important thing, and making sure all of your partners feel that they're valued and "enough" is an important part of navigating these relationships. astarion does the right thing here, by expressing his insecurity and asking for reassurance. and when the PC gives it to him, the relief is evident and he gives consent to the dynamic immediately. not because he's been coerced, but because he's been reassured.

PC: Gods, I don't want you to think that for a moment. Astarion: I know I was being foolish. But thank you for saying it.

the second condition is:

that he is still a priority

this is pretty self explanatory but since it's sort of the clincher for my whole argument here, i do have to say the quiet part out loud. i dont think what astarion wants or needs is to be the PC's only partner. he talks about "arrangements" on multiple occasions, i dont think he has a problem with sharing. what i do think he wants is to be the PC's primary partner. what he's consenting to, in my view, is hierarchical polyamory, to use the proper term. as in, the PC can fool around with whoever they want, even have feelings for other people, so long as they always come back to astarion. he needs to feel like he is secure and valued above others as he values them above others. he needs to feel like the PC isn't going anywhere.

and that's why he consents to an arrangement with halsin, but no one else. because all of the other romance options, the origin companions, would want to be equal with astarion, they would want non-hierarchical polyamory. halsin, on the other hand, is all about taking what can be given and having a more fluid understanding of relationships. he doesn't care if he's #1, he cares that the PC cares about him, right now. no formal definitions or obligations required.

that's what astarion means when he says "the druid is unique." that's what he means when he says "he has a lot of experience with this type of arrangement." that's what he means when he says it will be a "harmless affair." because he knows halsin is never going to try to take the PC away from him. he knows halsin isn't going to be a threat to him and his status with his partner. and that's why he's comfortable saying yes, even though he says no to every other possible arrangement.

it's not because he was coerced. it's not because he doesn't know how to say no. it's because he feels safe. and that's what we want.

some additional notes while i'm here...

on jealousy: a lot of people hc astarion as the jealous type, as perhaps a little possessive, and i am also one of those people. it makes sense; he's a guy who hasn't had anything in 200 years, and the PC is the first person he's cared about like this. i can definitely see him being a little possessive and prone to jealousy. but stepping outside of the realm of fiction, jealous/possessive feelings are often the result of insecurity and in real relationships should absolutely not be used as a tool to control the behaviour of another partner. and, crucially, jealous/possessive feelings are a thing to be talked about and worked through, not tip-toed around. the presence of those feelings does not automatically mean that a polyamorous relationship is impossible, it just means there's another thing to talk about, and by astarion consenting to the PC having another relationship, he's pretty clearly saying he's willing to talk through those feelings and work on them.

on the ability to consent: i know that astarion doesn't talk about his feelings enough. but i truly dont think that this is a case of astarion saying yes when he means no. astarion can say no, even in high pressure situations he wasn't expecting. he says no to the astral-touched tadpole (rather firmly, i might add), he says no to sleeping with the drow twins, etc. the scene that most people use as proof that astarion cannot consent happens in a much different emotional context, with a lot of direct coercion, and is followed by astarion taking back personal control and dumping the PC. that is not what happens in this scene, when astarion is consenting to a polyamorous relationship. there is no coercion (in fact the PC can explicitly say "i wouldn't even consider it if it bothered you", and astarion expected the conversation, so he would have been able to prepare his thoughts and feelings ahead of time. at no point does he say no or even imply he's not okay with an arrangement with halsin.

on timing: ive seen some people say that they would be more okay with the astarion-halsin polymance if all of this was not be happening right now. i agree with that. ideally, astarion would have more time to adjust to his relationship before it was opened up at all. but because this is a video game, everything is happening during the events of the game. and because this is a video game, the events of the game are high pressure and wild and everything is happening all at once. i don't blame people who elongate the timeline in fan content, or who turn down halsin because they think its "too soon." thats actually very explicitly something halsin says when he initially propositions the player - that he hopes it isn't "too soon." however, astarion still consents (see point above), and relationships barely ever have good timing. one could argue that even the solomance with astarion does not have good timing, when considering astarion's trauma and recovery. so. we make do. and i think it would be... a disservice? to what is (in my opinion) really good polyam writing to just say "actually it's all terrible and icky because there's a lot going on right now" and dismiss it out of hand.

.......................and i think that's everything. thank you for joining me on this very long (oops) deep dive into this. a double thank you for reading all the way through if you don't like the astarion-halsin polymance. i hope i gave you a different perspective, even if i didn't change your mind. love ya <3

[bunnyreaper]

𝓷𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸 𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓅𝓉 𝟣 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓉 3 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒

wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), mentions of cheating (not from reader or john), older male younger female, future daddy kink, mildly threatening behaviour notes - were going somewhere (hornytown) but not quiiiite yet. i still think there's lots to enjoy here though!! hope you do like reading!! also on ao3! ♥

"I've got you, everything's going to be okay." He whispers, over and over and over again, chanting it like a prayer.

You let yourself go a little limp in John's embrace, let the feeling of his comforting words and close touch wash over you—for a moment, everything feels right, the rest of the world falls away.

When John pulls away, a literal and metaphorical cold sweeps in, reality tipping over you like a bucket of ice. His hands still settle on your shoulders, but it's simply not enough to fight back against the shivers overtaking your body. The panic starts to kick in again, your chest tightening in response to the ice in your veins. 

John stays stooped close to you, his face inches away from yours as concern radiates from him—you stare up at him glassy-eyed, looking at him for comfort, answers, something. 

"Tell me what you need, love. Anything." His voice is so low, almost desperate to help and to fix things.  

You struggle to think, struggle to summon anything—your mouth opens and closes, your lips trembling every time you try to speak. 

What you want most right now is to fall back into John's arms, to feel that fleeting moment of peace you had just moments ago. What you need is to get away from this place that you've called home for so long, where you feel like the picture-covered walls are closing in—years of memories about to crush you. 

Your eyes screw shut as you force yourself to breathe, to focus only on John's reassuring touch and what comes next. "I need to get out of here." 

As soon as you finish speaking, he springs into action, a hand slips to your back as he guides you up the stairs, one step behind you. "Pack a bag, you can stay in my guest room until you get things figured out." 

You pause mid-step, frozen on the stairs at the weight of John's offer. He'd do that? Have you in his home? "I can't ask you to do that..." 

"You're not asking, I'm offering." He answers tersely, and you can feel him stiffen as he looms behind you, can feel the hand on your back grip ever so slightly. "He's my blood, my fuck-up. I should fix this." 

There's a conviction to John's words, heavy and resolute, quietly angry through and through—it's more passion than you've seen in an age, and he has no real reason. 

He taps you lightly, urging you on, and your body complies without question as you climb the rest of the stairs and lead the way to the bedroom. 

When you pass over the threshold, you freeze—taking in the bed that you'll never sleep in again, the room that isn't really yours any longer. 

It's freeing and paralysing in equal measure. 

John isn't frozen by the same fear, able to fearlessly lead the way as he searches for a bag or suitcase to pile some of your belongings in. "C'mon, get what you need. I can always come back for more, yeah?" 

"Or even if you just stay for the night until you can find a friend to stay with." His voice is soft as he tries to anticipate your needs and cater to your changing circumstances. 

He finds a small suitcase under the bed, pulls it out, and sets it on the mattress as he waits for you to move. 

"Thank you." You nod mindlessly, coming to life again. The two of you work in tandem—you recover items from various drawers and hangers and dump them on the bed, and John works on folding and organisation. Each item is carefully and strategically packed, as his experience demands, ensuring you can bring with you everything you desire. 

Your priority is to grab everything important—ID, keepsakes, underwear. Perhaps you should feel some sort of shame or embarrassment when John starts packing away your panties without a word, but right now you can't find it within you to properly care. 

The little frilly pieces look extra delicate in his hands, and despite his toughened hands, he handles them with complete care. 

You practically empty your entire pyjama drawer onto the bed (or, onto John), anticipating a week on the couch doing sweet fuck all. After all, if you can't indulge and refuse to leave the house after a break-up, then when can you? 

Though on second thought, perhaps John wouldn't be too pleased if you took up residence on his couch and refused to leave—his hospitality surely only extends so far, despite being the nicest man ever. 

The two of you continue in dead silence, only broken by the occasional muttering to yourself as you think through everything you might need for the next few days.

It's John who speaks first, pausing midway through folding one of your oversized jumpers. "How did you find out?"

You meet his eye and see the emotion swirling within. It's clear he's hurting too, but wants to find out more as delicately as he can. 

"Some account sent me pictures and videos, it's definitely him." 

John's nostrils flare, his hands fisting in the fabric as anger washes over him. "He better hope I've had time to calm down before I see him again." 

"It's not worth making a fuss over John. I'm not—" You pause before you say that you're not worth it, clearly James doesn't think you're worth much at all. The idea of causing issues for James and John's relationship makes you cringe—because, unlike James, you actually give a shit as to how your actions affect others. 

"—I don't mean to come between you two." The words you settle on represent a solemn wish. Though, far more than that, a part of you hopes this doesn't come between you and John—that is something you hope for more intently.

After the last few years of knowing him, he's become someone you can truly depend upon. 

"He's the one who did this, not you," John states in a way that's clear and leaves no room for argument. "I've got you. You can count on me." 

His words soothe the deep sense of panic within you—after all, right now you're in desperate need of someone you can trust wholeheartedly.

With James, there was always this undercurrent of distrust. It was something you blamed on your anxiety and a belief he reinforced time and time again. 

With John, you feel none of the discontent—perhaps because you aren't as invested, or perhaps because John has never given you any reason to doubt him.

Here he is, in your moment of need,

telling you the words he knows you need to hear most right now.

You come back to yourself, hastily zipping up the bag in front of you and trying your best to give John a warm smile. 

"Let's get you home." John returns the smile with a firm nod, grabbing the bag immediately and throwing it over his shoulder. He waits for you to move first, holding his hand out in preparation for it to fall to the small of your back once more. 

The room already looks emptier, and honestly a little ransacked—not your problem any more.

Taking a deep breath, you turn on your heel and fall into step beside John, relishing the warmth of him beside you.

"Oh." John pauses, bending down to pick up a cardigan from the floor, almost hidden beneath the duvet hanging over the edge of the bed. "Can't forget this, yeah?" 

You take the cream knit from him, shrugging it on and wrapping it around yourself. 

With everything packed for your emergency getaway, you head back down the stairs and grab your phone and keys. It's only when John closes the truck door after you've climbed inside that you finally feel like you can breathe. 

Granted, your breaths are still a little shaky and uneven, but being out of the house makes you feel great relief. 

John climbs into the driver's seat of his truck, immediately throwing the keys in the ignition. The radio comes to life along with the engine, Costello playing—loud enough to hear yet quiet enough to ignore.

"Thank you, John." You whisper, a little uncertain of how to express the depth of your gratitude. "I've always... you've always been so nice to me." 

"Nothing less than you deserve," John states, his tone a little bitter as he begins to drive. "Shame my fucking son couldn't see that." 

The older man's venom takes you by surprise. You're not shocked that John is ashamed of his son's actions, but the fact he is here, unapologetically caring for you while condemning his son? You suppose, when you think about it, a pattern is emerging.

In the past, when James has wronged you, John hadn't pried or pressured you to discuss it at length—he simply laid down the law and then spent time distracting you or making you feel whole again. 

"You're really angry with him." You note besides, unused to seeing such unbridled emotion from the usually calm and in-control captain.

"I'd never condone cheating." His jaw clenches and the way he shifts gears is a little stiff. "But to do that to you? Unforgivable, darling. You've done nothing but run up the boy's arse since the day I met you." 

"Yeah, well, I thought we loved each other." You shrug, feeling only slightly pathetic about it all. "I thought I was just insecure, reading into things too much, and he made me feel that way too..."

John glances at you, eyes full of shock and pity, before he turns his attention back to the road. "Fuckin' hell."

"Look, you can stay with me as long as you like, I mean it." 

"I feel like a burden." You reply, not missing a beat.

John releases a sigh, preparing himself for battle. "If anything you're doing me a favour, can look after the place when I'm gone, yeah?" 

"I suppose." You relent immediately, not having any fight left in you. "Will you be leaving soon?" 

The thought makes you feel more unsettled than it should.

"Hopefully not for a little while." John flashes you a smile, his eyes kind and warm, "I'll make sure everything's sorted before I go anywhere, don't worry." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Nothing to apologise for, love." He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he meets your gaze. 

The two of you fall into silence for the rest of the drive, accompanied by the easy-listening tracks from John's CD as you make your way across the city. 

When you pull up on John's driveway, he's out of the car and opening your door before you can say anything, shouldering your bag and unlocking the front door to the house.

Once inside, you toe off your shoes, setting them onto the shoe rack that keeps all of John's boots neatly organised.

The house smells the same as it always does—smokey and wooden. Just familiar enough to feel homey, just foreign enough to still draw in your senses.

"Shall I show you to your room?" John asks—a gracious host despite the numerous times you've visited and stayed over. 

You nod, shoulders already sagging at the idea of falling into the expensive guest mattress. "Please, I kind of just want to collapse into bed right now." 

John chuckles as he leads the way up the stairs. "You're more than welcome to." 

The bed is already made as if waiting for your arrival, sans the towels John usually prepares when he knows you're coming over. He sets your bag down on the armchair sitting in the corner, before turning to leave you in peace. "Anything you need, I'll be downstairs." 

You reach out to him, hand settling on his broad forearm as you hold him still for just a moment, meeting his eyes with a sincere look of gratitude. God knows how the night would've turned out without his accidental intervention, but here in his home, you feel as safe and relaxed as you can in this moment. "Thank you, John."

He leans into your touch, mouth settling on the top of your head as he presses a barely there kiss, and then mumbles his words into your scalp. "Don't mention it, darling." 

A second later the door is quietly clicking shut behind him, leaving you alone in the guest bedroom with nothing but your thoughts. Thoughts you'd really rather be without right now, so you rush to change out of your clothes and into some pyjamas and throw yourself into bed.

Exhaustion overwhelms you the second your eyes flutter shut.

—- 

When you wake, bleary-eyed and achy-chested, it's completely dark outside—the yellow moon obscured by a layer of mist. 

You rub at your eyes and attempt to wet your mouth, which is bone dry from fitful sleep filled with nightmares. The entire night you were trapped in a hall of mirrors, each one cracked and smashed and showing monstrous reflections that looked nothing like yourself. 

It was all just a nightmare, and it's over now—all of it. 

Peeling back the covers, you climb out of bed and head downstairs to fetch a glass of water—nothing you haven't done numerous times before when you and James had spent the night here after he and John had one too many beers watching the football. 

You know exactly which of John's creaky stairs to skip to avoid making too much of a noise, know the small night light at the bottom of the stairs will brighten as you approach. 

When you make it downstairs, a floor lamp in the living room floods the space with an amber glow as warm reverberated music drifts to your ears. The soft light highlights John as he puffs away at a cigar, surrounding him in thick, billowing clouds. You're unsure of the time, but you are familiar enough with John to know his late-night-turned-early morning proclivity for music and nicotine. 

You take a moment to just watch him looking so peaceful, a moment where his guard is almost entirely down, and he's just John. Not a father or a soldier, but just a man—it's a rare treat and a side you don't often get to see. 

His eyes are glazed over, fixated on a spot on the wall as he's undoubtedly lost in his thoughts, weighed by his burdens and memories. 

Your eyes linger on his beard, no longer sporting his signature style as the mission has kept him from the upkeep, and that is something you've never seen before. It's charming how handsome he looks, not that he ever wasn't, but his good looks are easier to notice when he looks like this—for a moment he's not James' dad at all. He's all man, and you'd be lying if you said you'd never noticed him before, noticed how attractive he is. Admittedly, you've got very good at hiding your inappropriate, likely misplaced crush on the man. 

But now, as you gaze upon him with his lips wrapped around his cigar and his thick thighs lazily spread, you can dip into your unrestrained thoughts and—

"'s rude to stare, love." He says, his eyes shifting to meet yours. In the dark, his usual shining blue is missing, replaced by dark pools of simmering emotion. A moment later, a half-hearted smile catches up with him, as he seems to pull himself from his sombre mood upon seeing you.

"Didn't know you were awake." You shrug, stepping out into the living room and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively—feeling a little bare in your pyjama top and shorts. "I was gonna grab some water." 

"I'll get that for you, sit down." 

He's rising from his seat before you can protest, the cigar still hanging from his lips as he makes his way to the kitchen. You take a seat on the long couch, not quite relaxing into the worn leather. 

John returns a few moments later, passing the glass to you with a tight smile. 

"Thanks." 

He takes his seat back in his armchair, puffing away at his cigar, his eyes now fixed on you. It's almost like he's looking through you, rather than at you, his mind swirling with a million different thoughts.

Finally, you soothe your dry mouth with quick sips of the water and find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from John. 

Now you've noticed him, you feel like you can't stop. It must just be the heartache, the loneliness, and the impending upheaval of your life. 

He meets your stare, looking right back at you for every second your eyes linger upon him. Until you force yourself to look at anything but him. 

Whether he catches onto your shift in mood or is just genuinely interested, you don't know—but he asks after you anyway. "How are you feeling?" 

You let out a defeated sigh, taking stock of your emotions. Right now you're filled with a swirl of confusion and clarity. Some things make more sense than ever, but there's a lot still to figure out.

"Honestly? Betrayed and hurting... but lighter, in a sense. As if I'm glad it's all over?" Your voice wavers a little with uncertainty, as by rights, you should probably feel worse than you do.

John nods understandingly before taking a harsh puff, his eyes hardening. "I should've spoken up sooner." 

It feels like the world drops out from beneath you. Does that mean...?

"You knew?" You whisper shakily, not prepared to handle another betrayal. 

"No, love. I couldn't do that to you—" He rushes to correct himself, his expression softening as he tries to soothe you. "—but I had my suspicions." 

Relief floods you, knowing John didn't sit idly by and partake in the whole affair. If he had known and not said anything, that almost would've hurt just as much as the act itself. Instead, you feel validated, knowing you weren't the only one suspicious of James. After so long of being doubted, it's liberating to have your concerns reaffirmed.

"From the last time you visited?" You ask, wondering if he caught the telltale signs then too.  

"Yes." 

"Makes sense, he was with her that night. A lot of things make sense now, looking back." You take a long sip of your water, trying to not let the emotion inside overwhelm you. "I'm glad I don't have to live with the worry any more." 

"I am too, sweetheart." In his eyes, you see an undeniable genuineness, an underlying fondness.

John takes a deep drag of smoke before blowing it around himself, when he speaks, his tone is more gravelled and gruff. "I've tried talking some sense into him before about the way he treated you, but—" 

"He doesn't really listen to anyone else." 

"Hmm." 

The shared frustration hangs in the air as the smoke does, as well as a realisation for yourself that there is nothing now really tying you and John together—it makes your heart hurt more than it should.

"You should get some more rest." John says, interrupting the impending spiral of your thoughts.

He cares for you, genuinely. But you know he's not yours to keep. 

You set your glass down on the table before rubbing at your eyes, uncaring of the way your mascara is likely smudging even further across your cheeks.

"You're right, but I know it's not gonna come easily." You sigh, before peering over your hands to narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. "Hey, you're awake too, you can't lecture me."

He barks a laugh, smoke sputtering around him as he withdraws his cigar, holding it between his finger and thumb as he stares you down—a severe look in his eyes and a smile playing at his lips. "Don't make me use my Captain voice on you."  

You can't help but roll your eyes at that, and are almost tempted to urge him to try.

John's phone lights up from the coffee table, drawing your attention. 

"Fuck, I bet I have so many missed calls and texts." You shiver just thinking about James' response when he finally drags his arse home and realises you're gone. Will he even care?

You certainly know he'll care when he finds out John has offered you a place to stay, when he sees his father treating you with the kindness he struggled to ever afford you himself. "I don't know if I should tell him where I am." 

John shakes his head, humming in the negative before giving his gentle command. "Tomorrow, love, you'll need your strength to deal with all this." 

"Always so wise." You smile lightly, appreciating his insight just as you always do.

The two of you meet eyes, as he exhales a lung of smoke that comes drifting in your direction. "With age comes wisdom..." He smirks, and you instantly rise to your feet.

"I'm leaving before I age ten years just from sitting next to you." Or, god forbid, letting any inappropriate thoughts seep in at the idea of his words. "Goodnight, John." 

You give him your best smile before heading back to the stairs, not missing his sweet response. 

"Goodnight, darling girl."

——— 

James (13 Missed Calls)

Where the fuck are you? 

Why is your shit gone??

Pick up the fucking phone. 

Thankfully you'd had the good sense to turn off your phone through the night, but the notifications and the harsh light of the screen burn your eyes come morning time.

You don't even bother flicking through the rest of the texts, as you resolve to address them later, after breakfast and more importantly, a discussion with John. There's a message or two from work colleagues that also go ignored for now—them checking in on you and making sure you're okay. 

While you appreciate the gesture, you really don't want to address it right now—instead, you opt for scrolling away mindlessly, waiting for the motivation to get up and face the day to finally strike. 

Instead, the day finds you, in the form of raucous shouting and doors slamming from downstairs—James roaring at John demanding answers, John trying to defuse the situation. 

Fuck. He's here. 

You tiptoe your way onto the landing, whole body on high alert as you listen in to the two men's argument. 

"Let me past, John." James sounds beyond impatient as his way upstairs is clearly blocked.

"If you think you're going anywhere near that poor girl, you're sorely fucking mistaken." The threatening undertone to John's voice is downright unsettling, even to you.

"She's my girlfriend, and this is none of your fucking business." 

"You're my son, and you're acting like a complete prick." 

"Your son, come the fuck on." James scoffs. "Move out of the way." 

"Wouldn't try that if I were you." 

"Oh yeah?"

The sound of a scuffle forces you to move, running to the stairs and stopping halfway when you get closer to the men. James is trying to push past John, but is met by an impassable wall of muscle and protective determination.

The expression on James' face sickens you, one you've not seen before, and especially not directed at you or John.

"James." 

His eyes snap to you, the lividity within unwavering. "What the fuck are you doing here?" 

A voice in your head tells you to cower in fear, to appease him just as you have so many times before—but this time you know things have to be different. Your eyes flicker to John's, his look softening as he catches your gaze, despite using his body as a shield to hold James back. 

John thinks you're worth it. John thinks you're worth jeopardising his relationship with his son over the way James has acted this time. 

It's not that you want to forgive James anyway, not that you want to keep him around—it's just the ice in your veins, the survival instinct calling on you to back down. 

But you can't, not this time.

"I know about Lucy." You force the words out before you can rethink them any further, standing firm. 

James' expression shifts, as he launches into an attempt to placate you, pacify you. "Babe, I don't know what you've heard but—" 

"Don't even try to explain it away, I don't wanna hear it." He won't let you doubt yourself again, and you make sure he hears it in the certainty in your voice. "I saw videos of the two of you." 

He laughs and shakes his head dismissively, his tone downright mocking as he speaks. "We need to talk about this." 

You fold your arms over your chest, confidence coursing through you. "I don't have anything to say, I'm not your girlfriend any more, and I'd appreciate it if you left." 

"Not before you listen to me." He growls, but you don't relent.

You look at James, through him even, a part of you disconnecting completely from the man before you. He's no longer the man you love, he's a loose end mere moments from being tied up—a weight you're about to relinquish. 

"I'll be back to continue packing my things, and we can talk about the rent and everything later." You even surprise yourself with the steadiness of your tone.

"Just let me explain—"

"No." You snarl, as James surges forward to try to grab you. 

Once more, he's stopped in his tracks, being pushed back and away to keep you from harm's reach. 

"Out, son, now." John's words are all growl, before changing to a more sinister stillness—the calmer threats from the man speak volumes more. "Or I'll make you leave." 

James at least has the sense to move away, but while he has no physicality to push back with, he resorts to taunting. "Always got to be the knight in shining armour, showing up when you're not even needed. Pathetic, John. Go back to your own life and leave mine alone, yeah?" He spits.

There's a beat of silence, an air of disbelief surrounding all of you before John snaps.

"I said, out." John pushes back on James chest once more, sending the younger man stumbling backwards toward the open door. 

At least now, he swallows his pride and leaves, but not before shooting you the most venomous look, one you know will haunt you. 

John practically slams the door behind his son, working the locks into place to ensure there's no possibility of a repeat performance. "Sorry about that, I shouldn't have opened the door." John sighs, hanging his head in failure. "I never expected—"

"It's fine." You sigh, genuinely believing it. "First step to it all really being... over." 

John says nothing, his chest heaving with each breath as he continues to look troubled and disappointed in himself. 

You make your way down the last few steps, meeting him at the door to settle your hand on his bicep—hoping the gesture to be soothing and grounding. "Thanks for having my back, for keeping me safe. 

"He's hurt you enough, and if he ever laid hands on you..." John's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as something bloody and violent passes over him. 

"I think he'd know he'd end up in a body bag in a foreign country." You laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. "Good job that it won't come to that."  

With one final deep breath, John straightens up, schooling himself into a stoic facade and pushing aside whatever rage is bubbling within him in a display of perfect discipline. "Sit down, love. I'll make us some tea." 

He heads into the kitchen, and you follow just a few paces behind—falling onto one of the stools at the kitchen island as John gets the kettle on. You watch him work in silence, thoughts ticking over about the display you've just witnessed, the events that had just transpired. 

You had looked at James and told him exactly how things were going to go, and for that, you were incredibly proud of yourself. 

"I suppose I should head back later and start properly packing my shit up. The sooner I get everything out of there, the better." You comment, trying to envision the logistics of everything to come.  

"I'll be there." John comments, pausing for a moment to meet your eye.

"I'm sure that will go down well." You smirk, mentally preparing yourself for another onslaught against you and John when you both show up at the house. His anger at you was expected, but the things he said to his father had seemingly come from nowhere. "I'm sorry about what he said to you." 

"Don't be." John shrugs, before setting two mugs on the counter with just a little too much force. "It's always been there, under the surface. Blames his mum too, as I'm sure you know." 

You watch his face, watch as he tries to keep his reactions in check—something he's very good at, and something you think you're getting better at seeing through. 

"Yeah." 

Is he reconsidering his decision to support you, now he knows the potential consequences that may come along with it? Is he truly hurting at what James said, or dismissing them as a by-product of the heightened emotions everyone was feeling? Right now you wish you could pick apart his thoughts, but everything right now feels so delicate, for both you and for him. 

John sets a steaming mug before you, then takes a seat beside you at the island. "Let me know whenever you're ready to get packed up, can ask the lads over to help too if need be." He half-smiles, a lightness in the dark. 

"I'm sure the two of us can handle it." You laugh lightly. "Not sure where I'll put all my stuff though."

"There's plenty of room here," John replies, before his voice softens. You stare at your tea as it warms your hands, but you can feel him looking right at you. "I meant everything I've said, and you can stay as long as you like. I also understand if it's too strange for you, I can help you figure something out." 

"It's not strange, not really." You meet his too-blue eyes and almost have to turn away from the emotion within. "Even so, I don't have anywhere else to go right now, to be honest. I'm sorry." 

"I'm happy to have you, truly."  He reaches out, settling a hand on yours, his skin even warmer than the steaming mug. "Brightening up the place." 

"Not sure I'm doing much of that right now." 

"You are."

You shrug, but relent under his insistent tone.  "Fair, if my bedhead and ratty pyjamas weren't a source of amusement I suppose I'd be disappointed." 

"Attagirl." His hand squeezes, lingers for a moment before withdrawing. 

You never realise how much you're missing until you feel John withdraw. 

"Can we... not go today?" The confidence you felt earlier wanes as the adrenaline continues to die down. "I'd rather go another day if that's okay." 

"I'm all yours, just give me the word." 

The blush on your face is entirely coincidental, and you force yourself to move past the moment swiftly. "Until then... Jeopardy marathon?" You ask, as you have so many times before.

"Jeopardy marathon." John nods, grabbing the mugs as you rush to the living room. "Been a while since we've done this." 

"Stop being so busy then." You grumble, flopping down on the couch with a pout. "Though I suppose the world isn't gonna save itself." 

"You overestimate me, love." John grins as he takes a seat at the end of the couch and hands you the remote.

You load up Netflix and pull up the series, picking up where the two of you left off months ago, and as the show starts, you wiggle to get comfortable. 

Almost absent-mindedly, John pulls your legs into his lap, freeing them from being curled up at his side and making you instantly more comfortable. He's always so considerate, and his hands settle respectfully on your shins as you both turn your attention to this episode's contestants. 

It's peaceful in a way you haven't felt in so long—getting to enjoy one of your favourite things with someone you care for. James almost hated trivia shows with a passion, where John had talked with you at length about your shared love for Only Connect.

"Why couldn't I have met you first?" You ask, mostly thinking aloud. 

John coughs, taken aback by your words that are laced with heavier meaning than you intended. "Pardon?" 

"I just mean... so I didn't have to feel so guilty about wanting to be your friend." Didn't have to feel so guilty about straining his relationship with his son.

"We've known each other as long as I've known the boy." He squeezes at your shins, rubbing ever so slightly as he does. "We're friends, love." 

You shrug, eyes flickering down to watch the way his hands trace over you, though not thinking too much of it. You're too trapped in your head, lamenting your lot in life that you had to suffer through James to find a friend in John, a friend you might still lose anyway. "He gets 'custody' of you though, really, since you're his father." 

John straightens up, his hands stilling. "Think he's made how he feels about me quite clear." 

"He'll regret saying that... I hope." You whisper, before turning your attention back to the TV. You don't know what to say to soothe John, and you strongly suspect it's not what he wants to speak about right now.

"Such is life, love. He'll regret stepping out on you." He returns. 

"Good." You laugh freely, feeling a moment of unrestrained joy. "Can I be honest? I don't think I'll regret having him gone, sorry."

John squeezes again, drawing your attention back to him as he shoots you an annoyed look. "Going to have to do something about all that apologising you do." 

"Sorry." You freeze, before giggling sweetly. "I mean... fuck. You'll just have to give me your most vicious captain look every time I do it." 

You joke, but John obliges, trying to look stern but failing as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Okay, you're wearing a quarter zip, and you look like a dad, I can't take you seriously." 

John chuckles, clutching at his heart as his look turns playful. "Threatening my pride, darling girl." 

You can't help the way your eyes roll back in your head. "Something tells me you'll be fine." You mutter, before the infectiousness of John seeps through to you. 

He looks upon you fondly, his warm gaze almost feeling like an embrace with its tenderness. "Nice to see a smile back on your face, bunny." 

"If I have to stop apologising, you have to stop calling me that." You say, unable to fight the blush creeping onto your face.

"No deal, love." He smirks, not looking away for a single second. "We both know you enjoy it far too much." 

[barcaatthemoon]

home for christmas || claudia pina x reader ||

you bring claudia home with you to norway for christmas.

claudia would never admit it, but you could tell from the grip she had on her hand that she was. the two of you had spent a season and a half in spain together, and this holiday break, you were excited to finally be going back home for christmas. the vacations spent partying at various resorts were nice, but you wanted something a little quieter and more wholesome.

"tu bien?" your spanish had never been good, and so, for the most part you refused to use it. now, though, you knew that claudia needed what little you had. she glanced over at you, obviously a little thrown off by the spanish. claudia's norweigan was nonexistent, so you had gotten your family to agree to english for the weekend you'd be staying with them.

"just nervous," claudia answered. her english was getting much better thanks to now fully living with you. your ability to speak spanish was atrocious, despite being able to keep up with what most people were saying. there were always exceptions, especially whenever someone threw in the a catalonian phrase. aitana and alexia were the worst about it, ona only really doing it to get on your nerves.

"you'll be fine, my parents will love you more than me by the end of the weekend," you told her. claudia doubted it, but she liked knowing that she had your vote of confidence. it didn't matter that claudia felt like she'd mess things up if she knew that she had your vote of confidence.

"right. i am a good girlfriend to you. we love each other very much, and even if they don't like me, they'll see that," claudia reasoned. you were glad to see her thinking rationally. it was amazing sometimes how sound of mind your girlfriend could be whenever she was away from the rest of her chaotic friend group.

…

meeting your parents had gone over extremely well for claudia. she knew that she was nothing like your exes, and that seemed to work well in her favor. your parents approved of the relationship a lot more than they had of your ones in the past. your father had openly told claudia this, and she had been almost insufferable for the rest of the night.

"are you sure that you don't want to stay a couple more days here? i mean, your parents did make up that room for us. it seems a bit like a waste," claudia said. you pinched the bridge of your nose as you got in the car with her. she shifted uncomfortably in the passenger's seat, thrown from her element since you weren't letting her drive you around.

"claudia, i love my parents, but i'd like to, at some point, have some privacy. they were well behaved because you were around, but once they get comfortable, it's all over," you warned her. claudia frowned a little, but understood.

family was very important to the both of you, and claudia had genuinely just wanted to spend some more time with yours. you were all for family time, but a lot of the things you wanted to do on this trip were just for you and claudia. you knew that she had been to a few ski resorts, but she hadn't gotten a good, proper, christmas experience in your books.

the drive to your little rental isn't too far from your parents' place. it's already decorated for christmas, and while it is nice, it feels less like home than where you had just come from. it's very organized, like how claudia had decorated her apartment as a compromise to you the year before.

"this is nice," claudia said as she walked around the little living room. the small house was nice, reminding you of the one you had went to look at in spain. your contract was up soon, and you were hoping to resign with barcelona. claudia was staying, promising you that she had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere else, and that she'd love for the two of you to get a place together whenever you resigned.

"i have a present for you," you said as you wrapped your arms around claudia's waist. she leaned into your embrace, allowing for you to kiss the side of her face several times. reluctantly, you pulled away to get the bag with the coat that you had asked your father to pick up whenever all of you had gone out to the big market.

"it's not christmas yet." claudia looked a little skeptical at the gift bag. you knew exactly what she wanted to be in the bag, and it definitely wasn't it. however, you weren't going to let your girlfriend run around looking like a tourist, nor would you let her stand there freezing because she wasn't properly bundled up.

"well, this is just to make our day trips easier on you," you told her. claudia cracked a small smile at the way you just constantly thought of her like that. you were definitely the caretaker in the relationship, always trying to make sure that claudia was safe, comfortable, and happy. "it looks thin, but i promise that it will keep you warm."

"you got me a coat in blaugrana?" claudia gripped the coat tightly in her hands as she held it up in front of her. you may have ordered the coat early, long before claudia had actually agreed to come with you. claudia smiled as she looked over the coat to take in the little details. you had gotten her number on the side, a little touch that you knew meant the world to her.

"it was supposed to come before we got here, but you have it now," you said nervously. you were twiddling your thumbs behind your back when claudia launched herself into your arms. you caught her, smiling and laughing as she tackled you back onto the couch. the two of you rolled onto the floor, lips connected in a deep kiss.

"i love it."

…

claudia couldn't believe that for the first time, she could go outside without being cold. the two of you had been out at the christmas market for nearly an hour already. you wanted to buy some things, but there were things to do first. claudia smiled as the two of you walked around, not complaining once as you continuously got distracted by different booths.

"thank god there's no line," you sighed in relief as you saw the rink. claudia's eyes followed yours, a slightly nervous look on her face as you tugged her toward the ice rink. "come on, we should take advantage of this, it won't be this empty for long."

"are you sure it's a good idea? i can't skate, and if i get injured, the others would probably kill you," claudia said.

"don't worry, i'll be right here the whole time holding your hand. i won't let you fall," you promised her. claudia hated that her trust in you dissolved any of the protests that had been building up inside of her.

once you both had your skates on, claudia took your hand and led you onto the ice. you moved slowly, allowing claudia to get a feel for it. she didn't really ever get too comfortable, so you only had her do a couple of laps. she took her skates back and sat on the side, content to watch you do your thing.

it was a little known fact, but you hadn't started out playing soccer. that had always been a bit of a side thing, even as you had gotten your youth team callups for your country. your first love had been figure skating, but there had always been someone better than you. it had destroyed you to always feel like you were second best, and so, your parents had steered you towards soccer, which had boosted your confidence as you grew into your teenage years.

being on the ice again after so long felt freeing. you danced along to the music, unaware of the way claudia watched you. she hadn't gotten to see you so unapologetically invested in something ever. you were completely lost in yourself, and claudia felt like she was falling even further in love with you. it should have scared her, but she had been feeling this way throughout the entire trip.

it was nearly an hour later whenever you finally got off of the ice. you'd be feeling it later, but for the time being, you were still buzzing. claudia seemed a little bit more clingy than normal as the two of you did a bit of shopping, but you didn't mind it. you loved it whenever claudia would hold onto your hand and lean into your side, randomly pressing little kisses to your cheek or jaw.

"wait! we have to get hot chocolate!" claudia chuckled as she watched you run off towards another booth. the two of you had spent most of your day out and about in town, and now both of you were more than ready to go home. claudia knew that you hated being out of the house for so long like this, so she was a bit surprised when you ended up being the one to make constant stops on the way out.

"why did you only get one cup?" claudia asked as you returned. you opened up the little mouth spot on the top and took a sip of it.

"because we're sharing it," you told her. claudia took the offered drink, eyes widening a bit in surprise. this wasn't her first time having hot chocolate, but this tasted different. "i used to get it every single year from the same booth because it's simply the best i've ever had."

"i want my own," claudia told you.

"tomorrow, we'll come back, i promise." you pressed a kiss to the top of her head as you dragged her towards the car. the two of you made your way out, not stopping anywhere else. you took a couple more drinks from the hot chocolate before you just gave the rest to claudia, who sipped on it happily from the passenger's seat.

"any more plans for the day?" claudia asked you.

"the christmas programs start soon, so we'll probably watch those and drink some wine. i'll warm up the leftovers my mom gave us for dinner, and then i say that we call it a night," you told her. claudia liked the sound of that, humming in approval as she shifted in her seat slightly. "all of this running around has made me very cuddle deprived, so you'll have to fix that."

"are you deprived of anything else?" claudia asked as she placed her hand on your thigh. the two of you shared a knowing look, one that claudia assumed meant she'd be getting lucky as soon as the two of you got back to the rental. however, much to her dismay, you did make her sit through all of the christmas specials that played that night before you even let her have more than a couple of very quick kisses.

[generalsmemories]

3 in fluff scenarios with Dan Heng for the event? :3

Lovely melody

✧ dan heng x gn!reader

✧ prompts used: that warm feeling they get when they successfully make the other one laugh out loud || 1k event

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, spoilers for main quest and 1.4 main event, and dan heng's companion quest

✧ a/n: i think everyone heals a lot inside whenever dan heng shows a hint of a smile (me going into camera mode with both his forms to see that tiny little smile) so let's give this boi some well deserved laughter after his very good job onboard the luofu

ya'll know the drill, not beta-read so if you see any mistakes - you didn't.

Dan Heng seemed to behave differently after he decided to meet with Bailu. A meeting you were first incredibly worried about after getting to know what had once to him onboard the Luofu years ago - but he had only given you a tiny smile and a brief hug to console you, whispering that he would bring the trailblazer for safety measures.

You had noted that it was the first time that he had personally left the archives after the initial expedition had come to an end and the stellaron disaster had been solved.

And normally you would've been delighted over the fact that he had taken the effort to come out to hang out at the cabin area with the others, even if he spoke less than before. While you're worried about his reason for stepping out of the express once again, you know that its his wish - and by no means are you to hold someone back from wishing to face a certain part of themselves.

Especially when it comes to Dan Heng.

Either way, when he came back after taking a trip back down to Luofu, he had once again shut himself back into the archives - there was an attempt to console you in the form of a brief nod with a small smile.

It did not help at all.

But you knew better than to actually rush him into explaining things or even tell you something - he still needed to wrap his own head around what had just happened after all.

So you were in utter glee when March and the trailblazer had suggested to bring Dan Heng back to Belobog for their annual Solwarm festival, deciding to wait outside of the archives as they went in to ask him. But your happiness is short-lived when the duo comes out with a frown, the trailblazer shaking their head while March just sighs out in disappointment.

"He won't budge at all. I would ask you to come and join us [Name], but you're probably too worried about him now to join, huh?" March asks in a futile attempt, and you can only give her a resigned smile yourself, "Sorry, you two. Do enjoy the festival for both of us though. I think Himeko is at the end of this cart if you're going to ask her for help," you say, waving the two goodbye - entering the room only when they turn the corner.

Dan Heng is still standing with his back turned towards the door when you enter, and he doesn't turn around when he speaks out loud either. "You really don't have to stay behind at the express for me, you know? I'm fine, just a bit tired."

You don't answer, merely taking a few cautious steps towards him although you stop moving when you're just within arms reach "... Do you want me to?" you ask instead.

"..." he doesn't answer at first, but he quickly turns around to take a few steps towards you, reaching for your hand to pull you towards him before immediately burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. "... Thank you."

While Dan Heng doesn't say anything more after his initial vulnerability, but you can tell very quickly from the way he's acting that he doesn't want you to leave his sight. You've resigned yourself to spend majority of your time inside the archives - getting a lot of updates of March's and trailblazers situation and condition through various selfies and long rants from March.

You show all of the pictures to Dan Heng who has his head resting on your lap whilst reading the updates from March out loud. While he doesn't comment on anything, content with hearing your own thoughts about the matter - you've managed to see him crack a small smile or let out a light chuckle at some of the stories March gives or even your own thoughts.

While it doesn't seem like a lot from the outside or to anyone else, the small chuckle he lets out makes your heart soar. And when you glance down at him after putting away your phone, he merely raises an eyebrow in silence. "What is it?" he asks, ever so oblivious at your newfound joy.

"Nothing," you answer, not able to hold back your smile as you bend your neck a tiny bit to peck him on the lips.

A few more days passes, and whilst March and the trailblazer wasn't able to enjoy the festival because of circumstances (that you have very much been updated on) they had instead found a newfound joy in a new game that had taken Belobog by storm - having sent a picture to you about their new companion who they had affectionally named: Puffball.

It seemed that keeping himself to the archives and accompanied by your presence seemed to help Dan Heng tremendously, now able to take more trips down to the main cabin instead of you having to make the trek to the kitchen yourself to bring food back to the archives.

He's even made some comments on the mutual groupchat of the express, giving March and trailblazer a few pointers - to which he was responded with a flurry of stickers from March you could practically feel her excitement through the screen.

And whilst Himeko and Welt made the trip down to Belobog to watch the final tourmanets in person, you and Dan Heng had resorted to watching the livestream on the holographic screen inside the archives.

Dan Heng wasn't as hooked to the game or the tournament, but seeing your excited expression whenever you saw either March or the trailblazer on the screen did make him relax significantly - having his attention on you and your expression most of the times than the livestream.

Not that you noticed though.

He had started to pay attention to the screen when the grand finale was about to commence though - just as curious as you about this mysterious player that had participated in the event.

"They won!" you shouted in glee before the trotter had even landed the final blow, making Dan Heng jolt in surprsie at the sudden loudness - but you were too ecstatic to even notice, turning towards him with a glint in your eyes that made Dan Heng's words die in his mouth.

"I knew they were going to win! Sure Hook as an elite player surprised me, but there was no way March and the trailblazer would lose! After all they even went with your tips and strategy with the right chips and had that amazing line up - they were almost unkillable!" you spouted, going on and on about the strategic points and the efficient use of their set up - Dan Heng still blinking in mild surprise at your sudden informative outburst.

You still don't notice how he's completeley shell-shocked at your new vigor, and while 70% of his attentin was on your continued rant on how they could optimize the team further, he gets a personal message from Himeko - the video showing Welt having jumped up from his seat with as much excitement as you during the finale.

And maybe it's that video about Welt along with your own enthusiasm about a game that you were previously very neutral about is what finally cracks him.

But you first hear the light snicker come from him, which makes you immediately quiet down because of sheer surprise. The light snicker that comes from your lover soon turns into a hearty laugh while his body starts to shake slightly.

And you swear you've never been so in love.

There's a few stray tears forming at the corner of his eyes, to which Dan Heng brings a delicate finger to brush away, mouth still spread into a smile - his cheeks are a tiny bit flushed from having laughed way longer than he normally does and his body is still trembling slightly.

If only you could've recorded this entire interaction.

It takes Dan Heng a couple of deep breathes before he notices your awestruck expression, his smile fading a bit as he grows concerned, but before he can ask you only cup his cheeks again and shuffle closer to him - the same sparkle in your eyes still present, but now for entirely different reasons than before.

"You laughed!" you state with a broad smile, and the male before you blinks in surprise, cheeks reddening a bit at your upfront statement.

But before he can even say anything, you let out a chuckle yourself, "You laughed!" you reaffirm, now with a softer voice.

Dan Heng is still confused, but you only shake your head before leaning in to kiss him, "You finally laughed again."

And only when you say that does Dan Heng piece together all of your worries for the past week. The realization making him let out a resigned chuckle, bringing a hand behind your head to pull your face closer to him and press his lips against your own again.

"How can I not when you were acting that excited over a game of all things?"

You don't refute or say anything, only laughing more which makes his small smile widen.

[gi4hao]

the idiots you date — x. minghao

roommate!minghao x gn!reader

word count: 1k

genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)

“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”

minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.

you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.

“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.

“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.

although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:

“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”

“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.

you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.

living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.

there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.

“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.

your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.

with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.

“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.

his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.

“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”

“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”

“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”

he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:

“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.

“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”

you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.

but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”

a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.

your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.

but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.

“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.

in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.

“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”

“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”

-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!

masterlist here!

[idololivine]

NEON Carnival Q&A Pamphlet Translation

disclaimer: apparently Taiwanese Mandarin is different from what I speak, so some of these may need to be taken with a grain of salt! my credentials are that my native language is Cantonese and I know - but am rusty on - Mainland Mandarin.

Q: Do the characters have set dick sizes? A: The team has a "super⭐secret measure", every time they draw the characters they'll reference it.

Q: Between Quincy and Olivine, who has the bigger breasts? A: The team fought over this and couldn't decide, so there's no answer.

Q: I want to know the ages of the long lived ones, the yokai, and the familiars! Who's the oldest? A: From oldest to youngest are: Kuya > Quincy > Rei > Aster > Morvay > Yakumo > Garu. The specifics of their ages will be revealed in the game.

Q: Who's older between Father and Topper? A: Father is older than Topper!

Q: The game has a lot of retro stuff, super curious about the producer's age! A: Retro has nothing to do with the producer's age!!!

Q: How are the kinks of each room thought up? A: The devs think of them in the small dark room, the artbook sketches include clues. [t/n: I consulted two other Chinese speakers and I'm still not really sure what the answer actually means, so this is a best guess translation.]

Q: What's inside the small dark room? A: Tired and busy devs......

Q: When designing event outfits, how do you decide where to open holes? A: Different people will think of the parts they want to highlight, later on we'll also test different levels of nakedness. (it's not like we haven't thought of throwing darts to decide) [t/n: little unsure about this one too. it's possible it means they think of which part of the characters they want to highlight, but they used 眷屬 rather than 角色.] EDIT: @milkeumilkeou has informed me that in the specific context of nuca, 眷屬 means clan members. that's what I get for not playing the game in Chinese... in this case, the better translation is: A: Depending on the clan member the devs will open the holes at the places they want to highlight, later on they'll also test different levels of nakedness. (it's not like they haven't thought of throwing darts to decide)

Q: How were the voice actors chosen? A: The producer chose them according to the characters' personalities and the desired voice. Many thanks to the voice actors!

Q: How far in advance do future events begin production? A: Usually the topic is decided on about 4 - 6 months in advance, and then production begins.

Q: I want to know which character the devs think would be the best coworker! A: Everyone agrees the best coworkers would be Eiden, Edmond and Olivine; Dante's work ability is also very strong, but he's more like a head that scares people. [t/n: 'head' may also translate to director or manager.]

Q: Do the characters have body hair? A: The devs actually really wanted to draw it, but considered various realistic reasons, so the players can't see body hair, but you're free to imagine it! (let Quincy have some stubble... how would that be?) [t/n: I would guess that the 'realistic reasons' they considered are probably that BL typically doesn't feature body hair, so it might've made the game less marketable.]

Q: Who has the most sexual experience? A: Morvay! (super fast answer) [t/n: the question is literally "who has the most experience♂️?" lol]

Q: Does the Klein Continent have a habit of wearing underwear? A: Klein has underwear. Just like hats, gloves, and scarves, when considering factors like decoration and functionality, to wear or not to wear underwear, and what type of underwear to wear, all depend on each person's preferences.

Q: Is Eiden's light brown hair dyed? A: Yes, and he'll regularly re-dye it.

Q: Does Eiden prefer briefs or boxers? A: It's okay as long as it's snug and covers him, and he has some special styles.

Q: I want to know how Eiden gets to work! A: Eiden rides a motorcycle, and on rainy days he'll switch to public transportation.

Q: What opportunity led to Eiden's interest in design? Did his designing always have to do with sex toys? A: Eiden has had artistic talent from a young age, and hoped to turn his passion into a job. His first job was being a sex toy designer at Peak of Pleasure, and this job happened to combine his two interests of design and sex. Aside from the overtime, for Eiden, this was an ideal job. [t/n: in case you don't remember, Peak of Pleasure is the name of Eiden's old workplace as mentioned in Journey to a NU World.]

Q: I want to know Eiden's relationship history! Did he have boyfriends before? A: Eiden knew he liked men from a young age. When he was fifteen he had a bitter first love, and afterwards his partners were all short term. Towards relationships he carries a generous attitude of easy-come-easy-go, and thinks that being happy in the moment is more important.

Q: Does Topper have others of his kind? A: He used to, but when he met Quincy, among those of his kind only Topper was left. [t/n: 手足 may also translate to 'siblings' or 'close friends', as opposed to 'others of his kind'.]

Q: Who makes Topper's outfits? A: Sometimes they're prepared by Quincy, sometimes they're made by Eiden.

Q: Does the food Topper hide in Quincy's hair affect Quincy washing his hair? A: No, Quincy will wash his hair when it needs to be washed. But not long after Quincy washes his hair, the food stores in his hair will be quickly refilled by Topper.

Q: I want to know Topper and Father's weights! A: Little animals' weights will fluctuate, but there's no direct link to fur amount. Topper weighs about a third of a pampo, Father only weighs about half a music box. [t/n: pampo as in the pumpkins from Eerie Escapade.]

Q: What's Yakumo's signature dish? A: He's good at everything, especially savory food. Because of his grandparents' influence he rarely eats sweets, and he can't quite grasp the seasoning amount, but after meeting Eiden he's begun to research sweets recipes.

Q: How is Edmond's knights' uniform worn? A: The uniform has a top piece and a bottom piece, the jumpsuit has a zipper on the back for convenience.

Q: If Edmond came to Taiwan, how sweet would he order his boba tea? A: After ordering full sweetness, Edmond would feel that it could be twice as sweet.

Q: How many nipple chains does Olivine have? A: Olivine makes all of his own nipple chains. He'll change them based on style and mood. The number continues to increase.

Q: Will Quincy help brush Topper's fur? A: Quincy will sometimes help brush Topper, but most of the time Topper will groom himself.

Q: Quincy, Olivine, and Kuya, who would win an arm wrestling match? A: Olivine would win, because Quincy wouldn't take it seriously and Kuya wouldn't compete.

Q: Please reveal Kuya's real height! A: It's 178cm ^^.

Q: I want to know Kuya's experiences before and after becoming a yokai! A: Kuya's journey of becoming a yokai will be revealed in future scenes. What can be revealed now is that, after Kuya became a yokai, he was a lawbreaker for some time...

Q: When Kuya addresses Quincy, why did it change from "boring associate" to "old friend"? A: When Kuya says "old friend" he doesn't mean true friends, he just likes addressing people in ways that make them uncomfortable, like "Master Rei". [t/n: Kuya probably didn't call Quincy "boring associate", but I have no idea where to begin looking for what he actually called Quincy.] EDIT: Kuya used to call Quincy "boring clan member" rather than "boring associate". credit to @milkeumilkeou once again!

Q: Does Garu sleep nude? A: He doesn't like pajamas that are restrictive or impede movement, but if it's cold Eiden will wrap him up in clothes or a blanket!

Q: When Dante first adopted Sooley, how did they get along? A: At first Dante got bitten terribly, because he tried to train Sooley to do various tricks. As they spent more time together, the two eventually developed some mutual understanding of wildness.

Q: Can Dante swim? A: Dante thinks that with something as small as swimming, you just need to learn! [t/n: Dante dodges the question here and neither confirms nor denies whether he can swim, just says that anyone can learn. knowing how he is, he's probably being ambiguous because he doesn't want to admit he can't.]

Q: How many darlings has Blade made? A: Because Blade's favorite is cute things, it's infinitely increasing...... [t/n: 'darlings' as in the goofy little statue guys]

Q: Has Rei always been in the Water Territory? Has he moved before? A: Rei doesn't have a fixed home, he moves regularly. The room in the Water Territory is just one of his hiding places, it used to be an abandoned house.

Q: Does Rei eat when he's experimenting? A: He'll eat if he remembers, if Father's there he'll also remind Rei.

Q: If Fluff Balls think Fluff Balls are cute, will they eat their own kind? A: They won't eat each other. If there aren't cute things around, the Fluff Balls will journey in search of them. [t/n: since when was eating cute things part of Fluff Ball lore...?]

Q: Where is everyone's erogenous zones? A: Aside from the gemstones, everyone's erogenous zones are as follows: Eiden: lower abdomen Yakumo: tongue Edmond: nipples Olivine: entire chest Quincy: dick, palms Kuya: ears Garu: tail Blade: darling♡ Dante: tattoos, especially the Adam's apple and fingers [t/n: might be throat instead of specifically Adam's apple] Rei: moles

Q: I want to know where everyone starts washing when they shower! A: Hair: Eiden, Yakumo, Edmond, Olivine, Topper (the fur on top of his head) Face: Dante, Sooley Upper body: Quincy, Father (chest feathers) Lower body: Garu (tail first), Morvay (also tail first♂️) Anywhere's fine: Rei, Blade (e-droids' bodies will automatically maintain cleanliness) Kuya: nobody knows where he washes first, but it's said he showers every day Aster: likes to bathe

Q: When drawing characters, are there emphasized specialties? A: Eiden: dick size, the balance of everything Yakumo: height, his slender body, the size of his feet as proportional to his height, finger length Edmond: waist to hip ratio, thighs Olivine: chest, eyes Quincy: arms, shoulders, pecs, Topper Kuya: face, palms Garu: his face/cheeks shape, his round butt Blade: eyes, balanced model-like body, his cheeks when he smiles Dante: perfectly triangular upper body Rei: the firm lines of his body Aster: brattiness and cuteness Morvay: muscular but not too buff

Q: In Aster's mansion, does everyone have their favorite locations? A: Eiden: his own study (he designs a lot of things here) Yakumo: kitchen (cooking) Garu: kitchen (stealing Yakumo's cooking) Edmond: garden (frequently has afternoon tea here) Olivine: library Blade: library Quincy: quiet places where he can sleep Kuya: next to the fireplace Dante: living room Rei: places to put collectables Aster: personal money vault Morvay: likes being outside, doesn't like staying home

Q: Do the characters have personal clothes? A: Eiden: in his rebellious phase he liked dressing up, now he prefers simple, comfortable clothes. He has a changing room at Aster's house, and every event he'll absorb the local trends and design outfits that fit Klein aesthetics and seasons. Yakumo: aside from traditional snake yokai attire, Yakumo's clothes are almost entirely bought by his grandparents. Edmond: because he's nobility, he has a lot of clothes. Olivine: because he dedicated his life to the priesthood, Olivine doesn't have many personal clothes. Quincy: he has few clothes. Most of them are made by him, so they're rare. Kuya: he likes trendy and new stuff, so he has a lot of accessories. Garu: it was only after he started living with Aster that he started getting more clothes (Aster and Eiden buy a lot of clothes for him). Blade: he'll wear whatever people give him, and he looks good in everything. Dante: he doesn't like wasting money, but as the Sun Lord, he has special outfits for important occasions. Rei: it's fine as long as it's wearable, he prioritizes ease of movement. Aster: prefers pretty, fancy designs, and especially likes clothes with cute accessories. Morvay: likes practical (easy to take off) clothes.

[justwonder113]

Showering Hyunjin with affection

Bang Chan; Lee Know; Changbin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

Summary: you just had to show your drama queen of a boyfriend how much you love him. word count:2.5k

Warning: lot's of kissing, reader is gender neutral, both of them are whipped, appearance of 3racha, predebut Han almost making an entrance, Hyunjin is drunk and a drama queen, overall soft stuff. Please tell me if I missed something

A/N- I'm back with another fic, this took me a while but I'm kinda really satisfied with it, I really hope you all like it. I will try to write the next part as soon as I can. I wanna finish these series as soon as I can, first of all because I'm all excited and can't wait, also I'm excited to try out new tropes, I was thinking of challenging one bed trope after this, with various different dynamics. The requests are open, if you want me to write something I'll gladly accept the challenge. Also feel free to share your thoughts with me, I absolutely adore interacting with y'all.

After sighing for the nth time you finally forced yourself to turn off the shitty netflix show you were watching to spend time. You had nothing to do and were bored out of your mind, but not to that context to sit through another minute of this. It was almost 3 am and any normal person would be asleep by now, but here you were wide awake, feeling nothing remotely close to sleepiness.

You sat up straight after laying for couple of hours and boy you regretted it. The dizzy spell you got was nothing to joke with, maybe you should check your iron levels. Also your poor muscles felt so sore you would surely feel all stiff tomorrow. Your back was killing you, and, not to be dramatic but, you would marry anyone on the spot if they managed to massage the knots out. It was safe to say, you desperately needed some good spa day.

Speaking of marriage and partners, you were curious on how Hyunjin was doing. Even a mere thought of your amazing boyfriend bought a smile to your face. You couldn't believe you two were actually dating after pining over him for so many years. You sure were lucky tho, to have a sweetheart like him as your boyfriend. Your one year annivercary was coming soon and you couldn't surprise wait to surprise him. You've been planning everything for weeks now and you made sure everything would be perfect. Well you had to share some of your plans with him, so that you could plan your day together but you still had major card up your sleeve and you were sure he would lose his mind when you showed it to him. Two days, you only had to wait for two days.

You couldn't help but sigh, you missed him so much. Even though you saw him two days ago it felt like centuries had passed. This boy made you feel so many so foreign emotions you were never sure you would get to or actually could experience. He always went above and beyond to make you feel like the most special and cherished person, and the fact that he also did so even before you two started dating each other. He was always so sweet and gentle with you. You always felt like a hero of a romance novel. Also you adored how being with him was so fun and exciting but at the same time bought peace to your heart and mind. You might be rushing into things but day by day, second by second you were convinced he was your soulmate, your other half.

A sudden buzzing of your phone startled you out of your daydream, you were curious who in their right mind was calling you at this hour.

Seeing the contact name had you even more confused. Why would Chan be calling you at 3 am? You knew the boys were out having fun night for themselves. Did something happen? You hoped he called you for other reasons, because it would really suck if their rare chance of having fun got ruined by something unplanned. You sure hoped everything was okay tho. Quickly as you could you grabbed your phone and answered it mentaly preparing yourself to hear anything Chan had to say.

Chan's call of your name bought you down to reality from another spiral of unnescesary thoughts.

"Hey Chan what's up?" You tried to sound as calm as you could.

Chan cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" You quickly denied it," no I'm awake, what's up? Is everything okay?"

Chan chuckled and it made you relax a little, so nothing bad had happened, "yeah, yeah everything's fine , nothing to worry about, it's just your boyfriend is getting a bit fussy." You couldn't help but mirror the last word, you heard Chan chuckle. "Yeah alcohol must've got to him. We were about to go home, but he refuses to cooperate. He says he wants to go at yours because he as he quotes "misses his baby so much he can't take it anymore!" He dragged the words mimicking your boyfriend, you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Where are you guys, I can come pick him up." You suggested while searching for your keys with your eyes.

"No, no it's okay, we can bring him at yours. Binnie and Han are with me too so I don't think it will be much trouble. I just couldn't knock some sense into him, I told him to call you but he said his phone died. At some point he even ran towards your house or that's what he thought I had to tackle him before he could get lost. I don't think he can tell left from right in this state" He paused for a second, you heard someone talking but you couldn't hear anything, " I'm getting off track sorry, so it's good to bring him at yours?" You were full on chuckling now, what a silly little man.

"Yeah, it's totally fine. I'm sorry he's being trouble."

"No it's fine, it's kinda endearing to see him this whipped. All he talked about was you and how amazing you are." Your cheeks hurt from smiling this wide, God, you loved that idiot. "Okay I won't bore you anymore, we'll be at yours soon."

"Okay I'm waiting."

After finishing the call you made sure you looked decent enough for your taste and that your apartment looked neat. You also prepared clothes for Hyunjin to change into from his drawer and some water and painkillers for tomorrow.

It didn't even take 20 minutes for the boys to arrive. The second you opened your door Hyunjin tackled you into a hug, almost knocking you over, thankfully Changbin and Chan caught you two before you could manage and break your necks. You giggled at your boyfriends eagerness, before frowning when you saw how swollen and red his eyes were. "What happened baby?" You cooed at him and moved his hair out of his face. Hyunjin sighed and hugged you again, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You heard collective sigh of boys and turned your attention to them, looking at them with confused eyes, hoping they would tell you what was up.

Han decided to break the silence-"don't worry he was just bawling his eyes the whole ride, crying how amazing and perfect you were and how there is no one like you." He said and rolled his eyes, you huffed out a laugh, you knew he had nothing against you, but he must have had enough of this. Hyunjin frowned and glanced at him, his hold on you tightened, you were not sure if he felt possesive or just couldn't keep himself straight. "You're just bitter cuz you're single!" Hearing your boyfriends grumble Han's eyes widened and for a second you were afraid predebut Han would return. "Oh I'm gonna beat his ass!" Han leaned in but Changbin held him back by his collar, Changbins gaze then turned to you and you noticed how tired he seemed. "Good luck, he's your headache now."

Chan looked at you" Do you need any help with anything?" You smiled at him and shook your head. "I can handle him. Do you guys wanna come in tho? Do you want something to drink?" After hearing the last word you could see all three of them shiver.

"We're fine. It's late too we better head home." Chan reassured you after glancing at Changbin and Han for their opinion.

"Okay, thanks again for bringin him. Tell me when you're home, it's really late."

You said your goodbyes and turned to hyunjin who looked at you with dazed, sparkling eyes. "Let's get you settled pretty boy." You took his hand and started leading him towards your bedroom. Hyunjin eagerly followed you, you were amazed how pliant he was being, usually he loved being a brat but he must have been too tired now to act so.

After helping Hyunjin get ready for bed, you quickly got changed too and got in bed next to him. turning to him you noticed that he looked at you with wide eyes, nowhere near sleepy now. You leaned in and removed hair from his forehead, "I thought you were sleepy baby." Hyunjin looked at you for a second or two and opened his arms, "wanna cuddle." His words were slurred but you still got what he meant, you smiled and immediately snuggled next to him his arms finding solace around you. Based on how content he looked, if he could he would start purring any second now. How was he so cute and lovable? You knew you were whipped for him but you could swear he looked extra yummy right now.

You spent couple of minutes like this, and based on his even breathing you were sure he was asleep now, but you were proved wrong when he huffed while glaring at you and then changed sides so that you were now facing his back. To be honest you were a bit dumbfounded.

"What's wrong sweetie?" You couldn't help but pry, you had no idea what could've brought this behavior from him. Hyunjin just huffed. You sighed for yourself, you had got to use the big guns. You leaned in closer, amused at how he tried to get away from your touch, as if he had much space to run off to, and soon, not really to your surprise you had him trapped in the corner of your bed. You wrapped your hand around his stiff body and leaned in closer so that you could sweetly whisper against his ear. " Please tell me what's wrong my love" you dragged his nickname as sweetly as you could knowing it made him weak in the knees, and it did break through him. Hyunjin sighed and laid on his back, you glued next to him, his lips were pouted and his eyes a little bit glossy, you rubbed his side to ease him into talking .

"You don't love me" he whined quietly, you expected to hear anything but this from him if you were honest. You blinked at him confused, trying to gather your thoughts, you were both perplexed and also hollering from laughter inside. He was so ridiculous sometimes. You took a deep breath and moved your fingers to play with his soft locks, Hyunjin immediately leaned into the touch.

"My love, I love you so much I don't think you can even comprehend it! What brought this up?" Your voice was soft, you wanted him to know how sincere you were. Hyunjin sighed and put his hand on your waist, successfully bringing you closer to him, your fingers migrated and now were gently scratching his nape. Hyunjin hid his face in the crook of your neck and quietly grumbled "you didn't kiss me even once since I got here, we haven't seen each other in a while tho." No matter how hard you tried you couldn't hold it in and started cackling, this adorable as hell drama Queen! He had you worried for nothing! You even thought for a second you did something wrong.

Noticing your shaking figure, Hyunjin looked up at you with doe eyes, and his pout deepened when he saw you that you were wholeheartedly laughing. "Stop laughing I'm talking from my heart here!" His comment made you laugh even harder. "I should've gone home, you hates me" noticing how sad he sounded you got reminded that he was drunk as hell and was feeling more fragile, you wondered tho if he would remember any of this in the morning? Was it too late to grab a camera? Pouty Hyunjin was adorable.

"I'm sorry my love, you know I love you the most." Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and you knew he was playing with you, his eyes glimmered with mischief, well, two could play this game. You lowered your voice so you sounded almost sultry "Why don't you let me prove my sincerity to you then? Are you gonna let me?" You carefully watched as Hyunjin's eyes widened for a second, the big gulp and careful nod of his head.

This was all the permission you needed, you leaned in and carefully sealed your lips together, your boyfriend basically melted against you. You just loved how soft and pillowy his lips were, you always felt like you could kiss him for eternity.

The kiss started out soft, with you gently caressing his lips, his hand firm on your waist, holding you as if you were going to go away. Everything went quiet, you could only see, smell, taste, feel, hear him and so much more, he was the center of your universe. It was just you two right now, you didn't care about anything else. You had one goal only and you were dedicated. Everything about him was driving you crazy, you were sure he couldn't even grasp what, or how much you were feeling.

Your kisses quickly deepened and apart from gasping for air from time to time you two were inseparable, like two magnets pulling on each other.

The second Hyunjin leaned back for a second for some air, you decided to continue your little attack on his jaw, then his cheeks, absolutely loving the feel of his soft skin on your lips, then came his forehead, his eyelids, his beautiful nose, his chin, his neck... You wanted to cover every inch of him in kisses, to show appreciation to whichever god or gods crafted him, to show appreciation that this walking perfection was yours, his soft sighs and whines making you go even crazier.

You littered every part of skin you could reach with kisses until your lips were so numb and buzzing you got afraid they would fall off. Although, it didn't sound that bad, knowing the last thing they did was to kiss the Hwang Hyunjin senseless.

Looking at him, he looked at you with so much love and adoration, his face and neck all flushed, his breathing was quick and shallow,his hair all disheveled, his beautiful hands held you so tightly, your heart started fluttering all over again. He looked absolutely breathtaking, you wished you could engrave this moment into your mind for eternity. You smiled at him and softly grazed his cheek. "Are you satisfied with my answer my precious?" Your voice was soft, Hyunjin gleamed at you and eagerly nodded his head, and the next thing you knew you were on your back on the bed, Hyunjin above you, hugging you as tight as he could, his lips softly kissing your collarbone. "Absolutely, I love you so much beautiful, you have no idea" he pressed another kiss on your neck and then your lips with so much love and passion you just knew your feelings were returned with the same passion and vigor.

[honkytonk-hangman]

Line of Sight [4]

JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN X READER

Summary: In which everyone's worst nightmare is realised, and Jake's girlfriend isn't actually the reasonable one at all. She's actually just as bad. There's a reason she's with him, after all. or Penny bollocks you over your petty antics with Jake during a volleyball game, but you're too busy enjoying being the only thing on Jake Seresin's radar (on the ground, anyway).

Warnings: fluff, mentions of jakes clealry very healthy mental health that is in no way compromised or flawed and he defintiely wont be needing therapy. thats mostly a joke, this chapter is all fluff :P

Notes: Its done!!! thanks so much for readin this little series and sticking with it <3 I hope this is a nice little happy ever after for these two <3

MASTERLIST

“It's impolite to stare.” Jake scolds, not even bothering to look away from where he prepares to land his third bullseye in as many minutes. For your part, you don’t bother to stop staring as he at last throws his dart, earning a mix of impressed cheers and annoyed groans. You’re still watching him when he turns to you, ignoring the others as they clap him on the back or try to goad him into another game. Instead he steps in toward you, collecting his beer and taking a swig, now just as focused on you as you are on him.

“Say, you’re pretty good at this darts thing,” you ignore his prior commentary and instead shift your weight to pop your hip out. Jake takes another swig, raising an eyebrow, but shrugging all the same. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You bat your eyelashes innocently, earning an amused look from the blond.

“Who am I to refuse helping a lady out?”

Before you can even really respond, Jake has stepped around you, one hand trailing down your side and to your hip, the other curling around your elbow as he guides you the few steps over to the dart board. Just as ever when you do this routine, Jake is pressed right up behind you, and just as ever, he pays no real attention to teaching you a thing at all, instead simply using you as a vessel to show off once again. He knows you love it, and you do, your body growing warmer with every bullseye he lands, his hand at your waist gripping tighter when you snuggle further back into him. He squeezes you a little in warning when you wiggle your hips again, but when you glance up to shoot him your best innocent look, you find him grinning down at you with only trace amounts of smugness present.

“Gee, you really are good at this,” you tease, speaking softer now so only he can hear. Playfulness seems to leave his smile entirely then, and he leans in, hand tracing up from your arm to your chin, where he directs you to a much better angle for kissing. It’s only a quick kiss, but you can’t help but laugh a little at the way your little show melts Hangman right down to the Jake at his core. You bounce up to peck the corner of his mouth as he begins to pull back, aware of the crowded bar around you, and neither of you wanting to be that couple (although, you definitely were that couple, Phoenix has reliably informed you), but you weren’t willing to let him go so quick.

Jake chuckles at your display of clear affection, and even all these months later, you know it’s still something he’s getting used to. It saddens you sometimes, how he was so easy to give affection, but in many ways never seemed to expect it back. It makes you think of the year and then some that he practically ignored you, for what he thought was your own good, working off of the assumption that should you talk, you simply wouldn’t like him.

He was dead wrong of course, you had grown to like him without him ever saying a word to you, and once he did, your interactions only served to confirm the feelings you had. Jake’s soft little surprise anytime you plainly and clearly expressed your interest in him or what he believed to be his various character flaws quickly grew to be one of your favourite things about him, and you loved taking the time to complement or fawn over him at any given opportunity, to big him up in a way that you can.

You place one last kiss to the underside of his jaw as he straightens fully again, and you both become aware of the discussion of a pool competition. Still with his hands firm on your hips, he turns his head long enough to invite himself to the game.

“Duh.” Javy replies with a smile and a half-hearted roll of his eyes. Phoenix’s eye roll isn’t nearly as subtle, but her smile is.

“I’ll get you another drink,” you say softly, reluctantly extracting yourself from him. Jake seems to hesitate for a moment, eyes flickering between you and Dagger before you reach out and give his chest a light shove. “Go on, win for me, Hangman.” You have to suppress a giggle when his chest seems to puff out. A wide smirk pulls across his face, and he gives you a little nod. You loved how seriously he took these sorts of things.

“Careful what you wish for, baby, don’t want to get too competitive about a friendly pool game just to make you happy,”

“That is like the most romantic threat anyone’s ever given me!” you exclaim with a mostly genuine dreaminess. You yelp as you turn around, as the moment you have your back to him, Jake delivers a light swat to your backside. You fix him with faux-disapproval and flick your hair hastily in a way you know he finds extremely sexy.

“Careful there, Hangman,” you call in a sing-song manner, all the while he continues to smirk at you in a way that some may consider ‘infuriating’ (Review courtesy of Phoenix) or ‘annoying as fuck, man! Blink!’ (Feedback provided by Coyote). “Penny’ll have you thrown out for that sort of thing…'' you say with sickening amounts of fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him, as he non-verbally calls your bluff, his smirk widening and his chin lifting as if to say ‘go on, then, do it.’.

You don't bother pretending you can win that sort of battle with him, especially not while you’re still clothed, so you flick your hair even more aggressively this time, and begin making your way toward the bar, swaying your hips dramatically for the sole benefit of the seaglass-green eyes that you know will follow you until you reach your destination.

You manage to find your way to the front of the drinks queues fairly quickly, and push yourself up and into the empty seat at the end of the bar. You’re in kind of a blind spot here, you’re more than familiar with the Hard Deck by now to know if you were anyone else, part of any other group, you’d be seriously worried about you chances of actually ordering, but all things considered, you aren’t anybody else, and you just so happen to be a part of the owner’s husband’s little band of merry men.

Penny spies you almost impossibly, and despite the heavy crowds at every other section of the bar, you see her pick up an already cleaned glass, and pretend to wipe it down as she makes her way to where you are, placing the glassware away and hitting you with a blindingly warm smile.

“If it isn’t one of my favourite love birds… what can I get for you hon?” Just as Penny finishes her eyes flicker to the place behind you before she frowns and looks back at you in slight confusion. “Where’s your shadow?” She follows up. You give her a little laugh and roll your eyes, gesturing the general direction of the pool table.

“He’s about to win some pool for me, although he did debate whether or not to come with me instead for at least seven seconds, so you know, we’re improving on the shadow front.”

Penny laughs loud and joyfully, giving a shake of her head at nothing in particular.

“If it weren’t so sickeningly sweet, I’d say good for him, but to be honest, at least I know he’s not going to get into that much trouble when he’s with you,” she says with the sort of wry knowingness one is only allowed to use when married to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. You raise an eyebrow and cock your head.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m keeping him out of trouble?” you wonder aimlessly, knowing Penny wasn’t one of those people, and in this rare context, she was also correct about keeping Jake from trouble.

Penny shrugs.

“You and Jake are just about the most perfectly matched duo I’ve seen in a while, but I think you hide your assholery better than he does,” Penny tells you with a laugh. You pout at her.

“You think I have assholery?!” you ask, faux-offended. Penny reaches across the bar to give you a light smack, rolling her eyes at you as she does.

“I saw you at the beach party last weekend, egging that man of yours on to humiliate your poor new friends,”

The memory brings an immediate smile to your face and you let out an involuntary bark of laughter.

“Oh my god, but that guy was such a douche! God, he had no idea what he was in for, challenging us to volleyball! Idiot,” you snicker only a little evilly thinking about how thoroughly you’d wiped the floor with the small group of beach goers who had wound up joining your party, only for you all to realise too late that they were kind of really annoying.

“Do you know what most mature adults do, what the other mature adults did?” Penny questions like you’re a preschooler. You roll your eyes, again. “They ignore school yard bait and try to make peace.” Penny tells you, which you don’t think sounds like the right answer. She looks at you expectantly, as if she’s waiting for you to concede her point. You make a face.

“Penny, those guys sucked, and they were talking such a big game about their volleyball skills. They didn’t even bring a volleyball with them! It was a netball!” you justify. Penny you can tell is only half telling you off, being a not-so-reformed troublemaker herself these days. “Jake and I play v-ball literally every sunday, we didn’t do anything or humiliate anyone on purpose, all we did was accept the invitation of a game.” you don’t believe a word of what you say, but it does sound almost convincing. If Jake were here he’d give you a supportive nod.

Penny lets out a laugh and shakes her head at you.

“Only you and Hangman can take something adorable and sweet and romantic that you do together, and turn it into an opportunity to dunk on some tipsy losers who’d mildly annoyed you,” Penny says, still like she’s scolding you, but the sparkle in her eyes says she would have done the exact same thing had she and Maverick been thirty years old again, and if the mere suggestion of beach volleyball wasn’t cause for a physio visit.

“Besides, I’m glad y'all got to watch us play at last. Since we made the mixed regional team last week we’ve wanted to get you all down to a game sometime,” you say, dodging any accusation of pettiness. Penny nods enthusiastically.

“You know Mav, Amelia and I will be at every one of those games. We’ve got to make sure you guys actually win and don't just tell us you win, to get the free drinks I promised.”

You can't help but smile warmly. It was nice to have a family in San Diego, to be able to rely on people.

“Really, Penny, thank you so much for sponsoring the team, you totally didn’t have to do that, but it means a lot to us, to both of us,” you say gently, reaching out to rest your hand over her. Penny returns your soft smile.

“See, this is the sort of thing Jake would never say, not without a heavy helping of sarcasm, irony or whatever else he thinks makes him less vulnerable.”

You laugh at that and bow your head in agreement.

“Hey, I’m working on it with him. I mean, Pen, he still gets surprised when I just tell him that I like a particular facet of his personality… Anyway, in the meantime, I’m happy to be the emotional go-between.”

Penny gives you a knowing, sympathetic hum.

“That man is everything he says he is and more, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to believe it. I’m glad he has you to show him it’s not just bluster.”

Your eyes momentarily prickle at Penny’s frankness, the words painful to hear from somebody else. Although she’s completely correct, it really does upset you to think of the way Jake must consider himself sometimes, and why you were so determined to adjust the way he clearly thought about certain things, mostly, himself.

“Very little of him is just bluster, and I can’t understand sometimes how he doesn’t actually see that, considering it’s a narrative he made for himself… he’s complicated, but I’m pulling at those threads as they come,” you nibble your lip with a small frown, before dropping your gaze to the bar top. “I just wish he’d see him the way I see him, and the way other people see him…” you pause, and Penny lifts a sardonic, incredulous eyebrow at you. You immediately relent, waving your white flag on that point in the form of holding up your hands. You’d had to come to terms a while ago now with the fact that you’re an exceptionally unreliable source when it comes to how you think others see your boyfriend, Dagger squad notwithstanding. “Okay, maybe not the way other people see him. Pretty sure that's the one thing he’s not mistaken about.”

You both share a soft laugh before Penny straightens, and throws a cursory glance over her shoulder at the seemingly ever growing crowd around the bar, though she still remains clearly unbothered as she turns away from the rush, and shifts her weight to her hip as she looks back at you.

“Anyway, I believe you came for drinks, and I believe I should go get them. The usual?”

You nod, thanking her as she steps away to fetch one bottle that supposedly contained beer, before she fetches your much nicer, far superior sarsaparilla, and waves you off when you attempt to pay.

“My shout, for the two of you making the regional team, and celebrating by destroying some amateurs, because you were bored.” She tells you with a playful wink. You grin widely, cheekily, before shooting her a faux-scolding look.

“Rewarding us for our supposed asshole shenanigans? That’s only gonna reinforce our poor behaviour, Penny! This is exactly why we’ll never learn!” you call out raising the drinks as your excuse for choosing to ignore any self-growth.

You manage to narrowly dodge a ‘rogue’ ice cube that finds itself mysteriously launched at your head, and poke your tongue out at the now distracted bartender, who somehow sees your childishness despite her mixing some brightly coloured cocktail, and spares a moment to throw you the bird, then a blown kiss. You laugh to yourself, as you push away from the bar, feeling quite pleased with yourself, and adjusting your focus to immediately inform your boyfriend of Penny’s definitely very real disapproval of your actions, and not at all conflicting response to the two of you grown adults humiliating some random pricks that in complete honesty, you certainly would have expended far less energy by just ignoring for the rest of the night.

You pause briefly, realising that that is the exact sort of petty assholery that Penny had suggested you hid, and briefly consider that you’re just as bad as Hangman, not Jake. You quickly come to the conclusion that you don’t find that to be a terrible thing, and so shrug to yourself, and continue on, unbothered by such little things like being a peaceful, non confrontational and relaxed person. In your eyes, being chaotic, always down to clown (on others) and quite likely an incredibly petty asshole at times sounded like way more fun, and involved far less unwanted self-introspection, you suspect.

The closer you get to the pool tables, the less you have to work to get through the crowds. All the Navy guys tended to congregate most thickly in this part of the bar, a sea of flight suits and unfamiliar patches greeting you, a fun quirk of which you’d discovered fairly soon after you’d visited Jake on base for the first time a month ago. Although you had no clue who any of these sailors were, or if they knew Dagger in any way, they definitely had become aware of you, and more importantly to this topic, who you were dating.

It's probably the petty-asshole in you again, but you get a sweet kick of satisfaction when you approach anywhere near the Navy guys, and for the first time in any bar ever, you don’t have to make yourself known to anyone for them to get out of your way. It’s almost as though a definitely unknown person may or may not have subtly mentioned (see: threatened to the best of his not-inconsiderable abilities) to any Hard Deck regulars on base, that should you be making yourway over to your regular spot, they are to clear the path and make sure you’re able to walk without going unnoticed by rowdy sailors who can't hear or see you.

You’d be annoyed that someone, surely not anyone you’d know, went to such efforts after just one incident in which you were trying to get past some sailors for much too long, only for one of them to step and into you, making you drop the round of drinks you’d been carrying, but honestly, as a remarkably unintimidating woman who wasn't known for her great assertiveness when not backed up by her six foot actually intimidating Navy Officer boyfriend, you kind of loved that someone, who you really had no clue as to the identity of, had gone out of their way to make sure you’d not have any more issues during what should be an uneventful commute from the bar to the pool table.

You have no idea who could be willing to use their mean side to your benefit, the result of which is the most unbothered walk anyone has ever done in a crowded bar, and a bunch of random sailors you don’t know occasionally giving you polite, stern little nods as you pass, as though their instinct was to salute you, before they remembered that you are not in fact any form of authority to them, but they couldn’t not do something as a sign of respect. You really do wish you could find out who it was that had put the fear of god into these men, if only to give him some really, really good head later.

You finally arrive back at the pool table, the red sea closing back up behind you to form a seemingly dense wall of uniforms, that Payback looks at in clear confusion, then to you, as if you had an explanation you were willing to give. He lifts his brows and you shrug, putting on your best smile.

“Guess they just all thought I was cute or something’!” you say brightly, wishfully. From the direction of the pool table, a familiar voice responds to you.

“Yeah, I guess they did, how polite of them.” Jake says meaningfully, though you don't know what he’s on about, but you suspect is in fact a veiled suggestion-not-threat to the sailors within hearing range.

You wander over to Jake, making sure he's not about to take a shot before you step right into his personal space, and hand him his what apparently passes for beer these days. Jake takes a sip, and thanks you, dropping a brief kiss to your temple. You see him briefly take a look at what you’d ordered, only to receive a scoff.

“And you have the nerve to call my choice in drinks ‘nasty’. Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re drinking’ cough medicine.” This is the one facet of Jake’s personality you can’t stand, and have made clear to him you dislike.

“‘Oh look at me, I’m a grown man from Texas who hates Sarsaparilla, how unique and quirky!’” you mimic his voice in a fairly insulting way, it sounds not a thing like him, but that's part of the jab. Jake narrows his eyes and pokes you in the side.

“You ain’t witty, plenty of people hate that shit,” he tells you, frowning. You ignore him.

“Oooh, I claim to be accepting and appreciative of the few differences i have with my girlfriend, but always happens to forget her favourite drink when he goes out for snacks!’” you mock him further.

Jake huffs and is about to open his mouth, no doubt in his defence, but you cut him off, narrowing your eyes.

“You ain’t slick, Seresin.” you say darkly.

Somewhere around you, wherever your friends are, you don’t know, you hear Rooster whistle lowly.

“Hey guys, first fight!” he says mirthfully, but with no real conviction. You snap your head in his direction.

“This is not our first fight,” you correct him with an eye roll, no longer concerned with your petty argument, both you and Jake forming up into a single entity once more to face the rest of the world. Jake’s arm slings casually around your waist and he leans on his hip, into your side.

“Get a load of this, Rooster thinks that's what a couples fight really sounds like,” Jake adds, as if speaking to you conspiratorial, toxic levels of faux-sympathy for his squad mate.

“If that's what he thinks a fight is, I’d hate to see what he thinks a declaration of love sounds like,” you say, mostly for the benefit of Jake and yours little game you’ve started, and not for Rooster, who was already ignoring you both and rolling his eyes as he moves to take his shot.

You glance up at your boyfriend, who is smiling Cheshire-like, but he shoots you a wink when he returns your gaze. He turns toward you then, using both hands, both of which also hold a beer and a pool stick respectively, to grasp your hips and duck his face into your eye line.

“The corner store we go to for snacks doesn’t have sarsaparilla, but it’s kinda a bust most times anyway, let's find a new snack stop, alright?” Jake says, definitely earning him some extra, extra good head later.

“I didn’t think you really were leaving it out on purpose, it's so hit and miss in Cali what stores stock it.” you tell him, grumbling that you couldn't just go to any store and get you some cough syrup.

Jake hums, and steps around you, your convection on pause briefly as he steps up to take his shot, sinking all the balls he's supposed to and not the ones he isn't (you refuse to learn more about pool than absolutely necessary), before he turns back to you as if he’d never stepped away at all, and sweeps you up again.

“I know a place back home where you can get a year's supply, I’ll see if one of my sisters can figure something out,” Jake says softly, as if a little worried the others might hear him being so gentle and tender. The others, while certainly all pretending not to eavesdrop, only wear various expressions reminiscent of the sort generally worn after being shown a baby animal video compilation.

“And how are either of your sisters supposed to get a year's supply of sarsaparilla up to North Island from Austin?” you question, not wanting to bat away his clear intent to apologise for any wrong you may have thought he’d done. Jake’s eyes swing toward the ceiling like you’ve just said something stupid and he won't actually believe it.

“You forget I’m a pilot.” he says as if it's obvious and also a good point. You frown.

“Pretty sure your jet can barely fit you, let alone a bunch of sarsaparilla.” you say, feeling distinctly like you might be about to walk into a verbal trap he’s laid.

Jake huffs, and still keeping his eyes off of you, he all but stomps his foot at your logic and reasoning.

“Whatever, I’ll drive it back if I have to,” he says, even more quiet and even more worried of the others hearing him. You refrain from ‘aww’ing dramatically, and instead cup his cheek.

“You can just apologise or like, use your words you know. You don't have to communicate with me via intense acts of devotion and service.” you give him a little smile to let him know you were being serious, despite your light tone. Jake’s eyes fall on you at last and he purses his lips.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“But driving around forty hours round trip to Texas and back again all for some cough syrup does?”

“Yes.”

You consider him for a few moments, but relent, and release him of his obligation to make eye contact during vulnerability, patting his cheek lovingly.

“Alright, well, if that's what you’d like to do, Jake,” you say, not fully understanding why words aren’t his thing in this one aspect of his life, when in every other area he excels in anything verbal, damn-near silver-tongued. But you also don't have to understand it, you just had to know it, and then see his displays of love and affection no matter how odd or unconventional or totally over the top and ridiculous, for what they were.

Jake takes a few moments to process the amicable end of that discussion, seemingly expecting a fight or more pushback, but you only nudge him, to draw him from his distraction.

“Hey Hangman, aren’t you supposed to be winning this for me?” you ask playfully. Making the blond frown at you as he looks between the table and your face.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” he asks back, making you pause. You glance back at the table with an earnest frown and after you seemingly take much to long to decipher the secrets of the little round balls, Jake chuckles, stepping up beside you and wrapping you up in one arm, pulling you in as he continues to laugh at you (you retract one extra off of the ‘extra extra good head’ you were planning on giving him later) and kisses your temple, his chuckle nothing sweet and instead completely, totally, and all-consumingly infuriatingly smug (Review by His Girlfriend).

“You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?” he asks, quieter than you’re expecting, so only you hear. You glare, and answer him with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, darlin’.”

You now glare directly up at him as he watches you with a mix of genuine assholery and softer playfulness that lets you know he’s fully aware of the former trait making a rare  appearance in reaction to you.

Sometimes, you almost wish he’d go back to ignoring you. It had to be better than suffering this. You didn't deserve it, you were an occasionally good person, right?

Jake draws you back from your silent pleading for a time machine, and he leans down toward you, smolderingly self-satisfied with how his little display has gotten under your skin, and his expression combined with his much more intimate proximity suddenly brings to mind that night several months ago now at the club, the night that Jake had paid attention to you for the very first time, and you’d understood clearly what it must feel like to go up against Hangman in a dogfight, what it felt like to be in his direct line of sight. 

Jake plasters on an identical smile to the one he has in your memory, but unlike that night, he gains an evil glint to his eyes, which you find out the reason for mere seconds later, when he gently boops your nose in a manner that tells you he definitely knows has lost him all extra good head privileges for the night.

Apparently, he deems it worth it, and sadly, you can't help but be swept up by him, rolling your eyes in mock frustration, but unable to keep from grinning up at him like a lovesick fool, waiting for him to finish his line.

Jake’s smile turns momentarily sweet, but he quickly covers back up with his bluster and fake mega-douche routine you actually definitely loved.

“Let ol’ Hangman take care of it for ya’.”