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kentosovertime · 6 months

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𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕥; (n.) someone who only pretends to smile

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤… when geto and gojo grow apart, resulting in their break up, gojo finds friendship and belonging with you and when geto returns he decides he wants you for himself 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕠… 2.7k wc, college!au series, satosugu, geto x gojo x afab!reader, explicit content and language, includes themes of manipulation, jealousy, angst, spiteful behavior, etc. toxic friendships, emotionally constipated men, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, voyeurism, heavy petting 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣… reblogs and likes are appreciated 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥… send me an ask (link) if you want to be tagged

𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕓𝕠𝕩

Satoru waits until he hears the refrigerator close in the kitchen and footsteps approach the front door of the apartment before he leaves his room to get ready for class. He frowns to himself, sighing heavily as he goes to make a quick breakfast and pack his bag.

He shakes his protein in his shaker bottle and scrolls mindlessly through his notifications to distract his self loathing thoughts. There are plenty of notifications for matches on his phone… Maybe he could find someone new to take some of his restlessness out on?

Satoru is in the middle of messaging a girl back with a small, satisfied smirk when keys jingle in the door and Geto comes back in, stopping short when he takes in the app on Satoru’s screen.

“Forgot my laptop…” He mutters and disappears into the room they used to share, coming out a moment later with it propped in his arms.

Satoru bites the inside of his cheek, looking down at his phone without a response. Sometimes he really despises how much he still cares about Geto. When their relationship had blown up in their faces, he hadn’t pressed him to move out. It was hard enough to find an apartment in a college town and it was quite another thing to afford one alone.

After he had stormed out that night, he came back when he knew Geto would be at work, emptying his belongings from their room and moving into the sparse guest room that used to be his before they finally decided to give into the tension between them. He sighs at the memory, something deep and tucked away in his heart aching for something that could no longer be. He swallows around the lump in his throat, remembering how happy he was that Geto was away so he could cry in peace, not wanting anyone to see him like that, so weak.

He still cared for Geto and the last thing he wanted was for him to end up on the streets or living in his car. Satoru would have been fine, he has more than enough money to spare, but he’s not a total asshole.

In his own defense, when he had decided that he wouldn’t press the issue, Geto was barely around anyway. There had been weeks at a time that he’d go before seeing him between classes, his job and internship, and Satoru’s conflicting schedule. But now, with the internship done, his classes and work had returned to normal… but they hadn’t.

He was still having trouble adjusting, even after a couple weeks passing to get used to a different routine..

“Hey…” Geto clears his throat, shifting on his feet. “I meant to ask before leaving, but you weren’t up yet. Is everyone still meeting up for coffee?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there starting at 2.” Ah, the other compromise that Satoru had silently made. Having the same friend group since before they started dating complicated things on top of their living arrangement. It wasn’t fair to make them side one way or the other and deep down, Satoru was afraid that the rest of the group only tolerated him and would pick Geto when it came down to it… Well everyone except for (y/n). “Just stop by whenever you get out of class.”

“I should be there around 2:30…” Despite his nervous shifting, a small smile graces his lips and Satoru’s heart skips a beat, missing seeing happiness on his face. “I’m excited to see everyone again after so long.”

“Shoko hasn’t shut up about it.” Satoru snorts, and takes a swig of his shake. “And (y/n) is excited to finally meet you. Try not to be a total offstandish ass to her.”

“No promises, Gojo.” Geto finds his smirk growing as he playfully rolls his eyes, knowing that Satoru is fucking with him. He was always a gentleman to women, even if he wasn’t as personable as the man in front of him. Geto was shocked that the group still acknowledged he existed, thinking that Satoru would have been the obvious choice after their split. “I’ll see you later.”

He huffs out in acknowledgement, sagging when the front door finally closes behind Geto. He didn’t mind making room for Geto in his life again for Shoko, Mei Mei, or Nanamin, but having to share you?

His gut tightens in protective possessiveness. You were everything to him; his best friend. The title used to belong to Geto, but that’s no longer the case for obvious reasons. And it can’t belong to Shoko with how she ends up moderating the two men.

You had pulled him through his hardest days, seen him through the dark months when he was piecing himself back together, making bad decisions to compensate for the hole that was punched through his heart. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

You had barreled your way into his life only a few days after the breakup, approaching him in one of his classes to hand him a summary of the notes from the class he missed. When he had asked you why you’d gone out of your way so selflessly, you simply said that you noticed he didn’t seem himself and you thought he could use a friend.

He found that he loved that you were his, that you weren’t tainted by Geto and that he didn’t have to share you with him.

When he makes it to the cafe later that afternoon, he makes sure to take the space next to you on the leather couch. Leaning into whatever you were animatedly explaining to Shoko.

“I’m just saying that if we tie him up and throw him in the trunk, what will he do?” You reason, like what you’re saying is completely normal. “If he screams we can gag him.”

“I’m here for the vibe, but how about we just lie to him?” She snorts loudly and takes a puff off of her vape, blowing the smoke away from the group.

“Who exactly are we talking about?” Satoru buts his way into the conversation, curious and ready to aid and abet at a moment's notice.

“We’re planning something for Kento’s birthday in a few months.” You grin wildly, leaning closer to him so you can conspire with him, whispering as if Nanami’s scowling face will appear out of thin air. “It’s his 20th birthday! We have to party and force him to attend. And if we book him accommodations in a love hotel for shits and giggles, so be it. You can smell the man’s sexual frustration from a mile away.”

“I always loved charity work.” He snickers, all but offering his help with whatever you need. He stands and stretches his limber limbs, cracking his neck before he announces he’s going to use the restroom. Before he goes his gaze softens and he smiles at you. “Do you want me to grab you something on my way back? One of those cinnamon rolls you like?”

“Yes, please~” The soft smile you shoot his way has his heart racing for some unknown reason.

By the time he comes back carrying your plate, someone else is sitting next to you. He stops in his tracks, deflating slightly when he sees Geto, making himself at home, leaning into your personal space with that sly, flirty smirk Satoru knows so well. And it feels like a stab through his heart when he sees you laughing at whatever he told you.

Three things crash through Satoru at once as he starts to pale. First, he realizes, watching your smile light up your face and have it not directed at him, that he likes you. Second, the hot churning sensation in his stomach was jealousy, something he hasn’t experienced in years. Lastly, to his shock, the jealousy isn’t just directed at Geto, but at you.

You have his attention, his smile, even his touch as Satoru watches him lay his hand on your thigh, thumbing the surface of your skin under the hem of your shorts.

Why hadn’t he asked you out before this? He asks himself as something punches him in the gut and hollows open his insides.

“‘Toru!” He blinks rapidly, clearing his mind with a shake of his head, as he sees you making aggressively cute grabby hands towards the plate he was holding with the cinnamon roll on it. An excited noise leaves your throat as you take it and bite a huge chunk out of it. “Thank you, bestie.”

“No problem, you fucking gremlin.” He rubs your head affectionately, smirking as Geto’s eye twitches at the familiar touch. “You getting along with Mr. Tightass over here?”

He kicks your leg, making you shuffle over and push Geto down the couch so he could settle on your other side, wanting to sit next to you more than before.

“Of course she is,” Geto scoffs at him before leaning back against the arm of the couch with the sly smile returning. “I’m a pleasure to be around.”

“He’s going to bring me over to that book store with the bar in it after this.” Satoru can see you teeming with excitement despite the shy look plastered on your face, complete with a light flush on your cheeks as you look back and meet Geto’s eyes.

“Oh?” Satoru’s voice is falsely curious with just a hint of the teasing he normally levels at you, like he isn’t having the rug pulled out from under him. “Hot date?”

“N-No-” You stammer in embarrassment at the exact same Geto chuckles, pulling your attention back to him.

“Damn. I thought I was pretty obvious about it.” He grins, reaching out to gently thumb your cheek, sending your heart rate through the roof. “Sweetheart you already said yes, don’t break my heart.”

“I.. Y-you’re sure?” Satoru hates how his insides churn as he watches you fully face Geto, saying yes to the man less than fifteen minutes after meeting him. “I could be crazy, you know.”

“Oh I know you are if you’re friends with that-” He nods behind you with a knowing smirk, seeing Satoru’s murderous glare on him. Really could he be more obvious? “Good thing I don’t mind crazy, baby.”

“Wow. Shafted and ditched bestie.” Satoru whines and acts annoyed so you don’t see that you’re ripping his soul in half. “What about me?”

You playfully smack his arm with a little grin, like he’s just fucking with you. You think that he can be such a needy baby sometimes, but he just had such a big heart you couldn’t help but want to be his friend.

“Don’t you have a million matches to respond to?” Geto hums like he isn’t letting you know that you have hundreds of other girls to compete with, all with the sharp edge of disapproval out of his own selfishness over Satoru.

“Shit, yeah I forgot I need to go tell them to fuck off.” Satoru tries for a tone that’s silky sweat but it comes out just a bit too snippy. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, gremlin. You still have those notes for me from the class I missed?”

“Of course I do, you degenerate. No way you’d graduate in the Spring without them.” You tease, hiding a sad look that he’s already packing his bag up to head out.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Satoru wandered aimlessly for the evening, eventually too bored of the campus’s study rooms to stand it anymore. The sun was setting, casting golden yellow rays of light through the budding leaves as he walked across the campus quad, heading to his favorite hole bar in the wall where he could drink in peace without being bothered.

He hadn’t been here since right after the breakup, so the staff looked confused to see him back, but promptly kept his drink full in his hands without having to ask. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have Geto try to talk to him about what happened, but they had to close eventually and he could tell they were itching for him to pack up so they could lock up.

He didn’t even want to wake up in the morning and have to hear the same exact story that Geto told him, but this time from your pretty pink lips while you smiled with that shy excitement that only came out when you liked someone. In all the time he’d known you, while you were a chaotic little shit, you didn’t have a malicious bone in your body, you just weren’t capable.

He kicks a pebble down the sidewalk with a sour taste in his mouth. He shouldn’t be upset with you, he just wants the attention you’re getting and also desperately wants to give you that attention too.

He knew how charming Geto could be, how calculating he was when he decided he wanted to do something. He just hoped that he wouldn’t hurt you like he did to Satoru. He’d finally find it in him to truly hate him if Geto ever caused you to question your worth like Satoru had.

This all made him so fucking sick. And he saw that look in Geto’s eyes, he knew how Satoru felt about you. It was hard not to scream in frustration. He wanted to push him and see what his intentions were with you.

He sighs when he’s met with the sight of his front door, putting his keys in the lock and slipping inside. He stares blankly at the shoes in the entryway, his heart beating in a sick rhythm when he sees your boots laying neatly next to Geto’s hightops.

But it's so late… His brain refuses to connect the dots until a masculine groan he’s all too familiar with sounds further inside.

“Fuck-” A breathy moan slides down the hall and into his ears as he edges his way to the living room only to be greeted to the sight of the two of you together on their couch.

His eyes widen at the sight of you straddling Geto’s lap half naked, your shirt thrown carelessly across the area rug with Geto’s. His gaze catches every torturous detail in high definition.

Geto’s hand fists into the hair at the nape of your neck, jerking your face into place as he lips devour yours, his tongue tangling with yours, easily dominating you and pulling a defeated whimper from your throat. Satoru’s eyes dip to Geto’s free hand that’s shoved its way under your bra, greedily groping the mass of flush, paying special attention to your nipples.

The attention has you hazy, your eyes cloudy and unfocused when Satoru watches your face break away from Geto’s falling back with a loud moan. Geto surges forward and takes advantage of your new position to attack your neck, sucking stark marks onto the column of your throat so dark you wouldn’t be able to go out without hiding them.

It’s easy to imagine that it's him doing this to you, that you had chosen him instead. But when you shove your hand needily into Geto’s pants, stroking his cock in such a delicious rhythm you have him bucking into your touch, his hands leaving you to start pushing down your leggings in a rushed manner, Satoru loses it. It should be him doing that.

“Thought we said no fucking in the common rooms?” He snaps meanly, loving how you jolt and push Geto away in a panic, hastily wrapping your arms around your front to cover yourself up as a crimson blush radiates all the way down your chest. “Make sure to use protection, Geto will try to convince you he doesn’t need it.”

Satoru growls and turns on his heels, slamming his door harshly when Geto’s only response was a smirk and satisfied, taunting sparkle in his eyes.

He seethes as he throws his bag to the ground, jealousy rampant that you were free to be loved by him and resentment burning that Geto may have ruined his new hope for happiness.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @silversslut @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @rafzaha @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @saoney @pelicanpizza @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo @kibananya @reine-son[[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

#kentosot original #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #suguru geto #satosugu #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x geto #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen au

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aurumacadicus · 5 months

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159 or 139 for the ficlet please!

(Also, do these numbers correspond or a prompt or are we just winging it here, curious minds would like to know how this lottery is working 🧐)

These numbers correspond to a prompt set which I can post a link to after this is done but I wanted the randomness of it. No offense but you guys always go for the same prompts (which don't get me wrong, make sense for the characters/my writing) but I wanted to stretch some writing muscles!!!! So I anonymized the list :3c

Steve groaned when he realized he couldn't ignore the constant pinging of his phone anymore. It had well and truly rung through his half-dozing state. He pushed himself up, popping each vertebrae as he attempted to blink the sleep out of his eyes, then yawned, loud, and scrubbed at his eyes.

He took a glance around his room, then squinted in confusion when he saw his lamp had been knocked off the bedside table, there was a... sock? On the ceiling fan? And the ceiling fan was askew, the edges of the blades scraping the paint off on one side and nearly low enough to clip his hair on the other. He stared at it, mouth hanging open in confusion, especially as it finally registered that it was not a sock hanging from the fan, but a ripped pair of tights.

Steve grabbed his phone, still staring at the tights, as he wondered how, exactly, they'd been ripped right down the middle of the crotch and where, exactly, the other half was. He found it as he rolled onto his back to check his phone, one end tied to the foot board of his bed, the other tied around his ankle. He blinked slowly, then thumbed his phone open, peering at the notifications.

[Bucky] If you don't respond, I'm calling the cops

Steve blinked again, then sent a simple 'responding' and scrolled up to see what was going on. He came to the conclusion that he'd disappeared halfway through a party. Bucky and Natasha's engagement party, maybe? They were celebrating something, he remembered. The first messages has been teasing, calling him a curmudgeonly old man, then jokes about him getting lucky, then concern as he'd never replied to any of them. He flipped back to Bucky's messages.

[Me] Yo what happened My lamp's broken? And my ceiling fan? I'm tied to the bed kinda.

He looked around again just for good measure, then did a double-take at his sheets. He snapped a picture and sent it along as well.

[Me] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

Bucky's response came only a few seconds later.

[Bucky] Oh my god the stripper??????????????! I wondered what happened to him!!!!!!

"The stripper?" Steve asked, squinting at the screen in confusion.

The door to his bathroom opened, and a man stepped out, naked as the day he was born. He was beautifully damp. He had a towel wrapped around his hair. Steve understood, suddenly, why half a pair of tights were on the ceiling fan. He immediately wanted to fuck this man so athletically that the other half snapped off his leg and flew onto the ceiling fan too.

"I ordered breakfast," the man said casually, pulling a duffel bag from... somewhere. "It should be here in about fifteen minutes. I'm Tony, by the way," he added, picking a pair of briefs out of the bag.

"You don't have to put those on, Tony," Steve offered, instead of doing the polite thing of offering his name back, or asking if he wanted anything else.

Tony let out a bark of laughter. "Just as charming as last night," he teased, shaking his head.

God, Steve hoped he'd been charming last night. "So... were we introduced last night?" he asked carefully. "And you thought I forgot your name?"

"I was introduced as Bambi last night," Tony said, offering him a smirk. "And you waxed poetic about my big brown eyes until I basically had no choice but to fall into bed with you."

"Bambi," Steve repeated, and then, louder, "Ooooh, Bambi." Suddenly he remembered exactly what had happened last night, up to and including how his room had gotten messed up, and it had started with Tony finally asking, 'Does that make you Faline? Or are you more of a Ronno?' and Steve just picking him up and carrying him toward the door as Tony giggled in his arms.

Well. Food was coming. He'd have time to convince Tony he was more than just a fan of brown eyes. Tony had a cheeky smile. He found those always seemed to get him into trouble in the best way.

#aurumacadicus answers #saving-stark #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

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accio-victuuri · 9 months

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year-end sugar rush round up 🍭

it’s time for the last round up of 2023. we have made it through another year filled with clownery and love for the boys! as per my tradition in posting year end candy recaps, i am releasing early 31st cause i am gonna be busy with nye shows. i hope you enjoy looking through all the happiness the final month gave us. have a great new year’s eve everyone!!!

if you wanna look through the past months or year/s then go to this link. 🔗

i’m adding a little exercise to this post tho and ask you, what are your top 5 cpns of the year? please comment or reblog with your answers!

• The tattoo rumor resurfaces ( new clue? )

• Bowing to the crowd as thank you

• 13 fake rumors - from the vault

• potential wedding photoshoot and “superman can’t fly”

• not really cpn but a media account on tiktok posted a video of xz’s appearance in MBS. they used the tags related to xiao zhan for more views, but they included one that has wang yibo’s name on it. 😂 i know that they might have just chosen an already existing tag with xz and wyb name on it and forgot to edit it. but it’s still a funny incident.

• 12/3 ZSWW Fake Rumor ( pre singapore timeline )

• 12/4 fake story contribution ( wolf mates for life )

• Washing candies only make it sweeter

• An example of bjyx being an open secret ( sort of )

photos were going around of a yibo vcr played in a chanel annual meeting in china. we were all happy to see wyb lookin so good and fresh faced, but what we noticed is his top.

the style of top he was wearing (p1) is very similar to that of GG’s (p2) at the airport when he was flying back to Beijing. it’s probably because the weather is getting colder so they wear this instead of their usual esspensive t-shirts?

the point is it’s kind of like the same-style in a close timeframe from each other. so it seems like their tastes in casual clothes are still very close.

• 12/7/23 Candies ( GQ MOTY + XZS Singapore vlog)

• The GQ MOTY hat was a gift from XZ 🤍 // Part two : I have to say that this has become a favorite one among cpns and has become notorious since so/os from both sides are trying so desperately to wash it. those on xz’s side using rocco’s 227 kadian to dispute everything even if it was their fault they were called out while xz was busy working his ass of shooting LOCH. this is just a reminder that the celebrity is not equal to their fans. whatever drama both sides do to each other, has nothing to do with us and does not reflect the boy’s relationship. 🤍

• Coffee from Singapore CPN ☕️

• All the things that happened Monday Morning of 12/11 which includes the magazine covers, pants, xz going online for a moment etc.

• xiao zhan’s snowman ⛄️

• The fact that WYB was wearing the bone necklace tho hidden during his BAZAAR photoshoot. The ones in focus were of course Chanel, but those who pay attention will see it. A proof of how special it is. Imagine WYB being bare faced and only had stuff that he actually needs, and he decided to keep the necklace on.

• Not exactly CPN but more of a similarity i love to see. cause Shandong Satellite TV decided to air BAH right after SBMS! We love to see their works not only be shown in online platforms, but also in satellite TV stations.

• Candy Throwback : Alexander Mcqueen shoes, Nike off white & WYB’s missing mole

• 12/15 double attack of stock photos from XZS and YBO. The black and white theme! Anytime these two decide to give us some update is a happy day!

• Du Hua describes WYB’s looks as that of a rabbit

• Tencent Video All Star Night CPNs 💛

• 12/19 they both went back to Beijing. ZZ was in Shanghai to film and WYB also filmed CCTV stage. The thing is WYB started filming at 2:00 AM and then he was back at the airport to leave at 10:00 AM. They both arrived to BJ so close to each other. CPN is they tried really hard to be back home & be together that day ♥️

• throwback cpn : wyb prepares xz’s room in hengdian (2021)

• their studios posting so close together for winter solstice! tho wyb’s is a preview for his new single, ybo still greeted people.

• Winter solstice CPNs ( WYB’s song preview and GG’s photoset )

• Clowning about a possible secret message from a 9key code

• “Everything is lovely” similarity from xzs caption and yibo’s new single and more clues like a possible connection to an lrlg post & what looks like a rabbit and character for ox.

• black and yellow similarity!

• 12/26 WYB EP cpn post ( teaser lyrics )

• FAE : Free and Easy sweater

• Same style of editing between XZS and YBO who we all know are dating ☺️☺️☺️

• 12/28 candies

• Marie Claire x Xiao Zhan issue 🍭🍬

• Yibo’s new singles : Bystander & Everything is Lovely

• LRLG 12/30 translation and short commentaries

• LRLG responding to cpf comments

• Wang Wang Xianbei 😂😂😂😂

• Similar clothes and Participating in the same single for a nye song

That’s all for now, See you next year!!!! ❤️💛💚

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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adaptacy · 10 months

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A Found Flame {Pt.4}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: forgot to mention this in ANY of the previous parts but i do have a silly spotify playlist for this silly man. includes a LOT of hozier because... i mean.... y'all know exactly why. (Link)

Word Count: 5.9k

“I’m not sure that I’m understanding.” You frown, leaning against his desk, raising a hand to scratch at your head, combing over his words once more, trying to make sense of them through whatever means necessary. “You’re going on a trip? You? Gale Dekarios? Mister stays-in-his-tower-all-day, the same man who sends me just to fetch fresh water?” You laugh, truly figuring he was joking. That, maybe, he was trying to play you for a fool – and yet he looked so terribly solemn, the opposition an unsettling sight, and his expression only served to further disorient you.

“Yes, the Wizard of Waterdeep is leaving his tower. I know such a feat is quite unimaginable, but I assure you, I speak with complete honesty. I have matters to attend to that require my presence elsewhere. I’ll be leaving you to the tower, though you won’t be completely on your own. Tara will remain here by your side,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. His hand pauses when it rests on his hairline, holding back the front strands to clear his view, and he looks down at the hide pack grasped in his left hand. He angles his head back up at his bookshelf, pondering which of the story is most necessary to bring along with him.

“Damn, it wasn’t the flowers, was it?” You chuckle awkwardly, breaking your attention away from your mentor to look at the flowers you’d picked yesterday, showing their first signs of wilting despite sitting in a vase of fresh water. You had only Gale’s misfortune with plants to blame. He hadn’t opened up last night, despite your ambitions, but they’d brought a smile – and the faintest of blushes – to his face, and that was good enough. Though now in retrospect the offering-slash-gift seemed a little too forward, and your attempt at a joke stemmed from the mildest of insecurities that maybe the indigo petals had given him the wrong idea and rendered him uncomfortable.

“Pardon?” He asks, standing up straight again, his backpack hanging loosely from the curled fingers that held it, and you look back at him, meeting his gaze. You can’t quite place the reasoning behind why your stomach sinks, but there’s no mistaking the discomfort of a growing pit in your abdomen. There’s a nearly mystical forlornness in the creases on his face, and his eyes appear dim; you’re sure it isn’t the lighting in the room that makes them out to be so cheerless, as he faces the sun and it lights his features up in all ways except emotionally.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Dekarios?” You ask, your tone quiet and more anxious than you mean to let on. No longer leaning so casually against his desk, you dare to take a step towards him, head craning to the left as you search his eyes, though you only find them to be harshly guarded from your inspection.

“There’s truly no need for such formalities,” he replies, straightening out his posture and taking in a quick breath, a dreadfully forced smile replacing the careful line that his lips had been forming. He lifts the backpack, jostling it, and nods his head. “I’m alright. Well, save for the slightest traces of stress, if I may be so daringly sincere as to admit it.”

You pause your approach, not wanting to scare him should he prove skittish if you get too close, and you fold your hands behind your back, glancing at the contents of the traveling pack he holds. You can’t see much, but you are able to make out the off-white cylindrical shape of a scroll. “Might I inquire why it is that you’re feeling stressed? If you know why, that is.”

Gale contemplates the request, a commonly seen – at least on Gale – introspective expression knitting his eyebrows, urging you to remain patient as he crafts a response. Eventually, he concentrates on you again, subconsciously dipping his head. “I expect the trip to be a long one, is all. I fear I’ll miss this sentimental belfry. As dusty and aged as it is, I’ve spent countless hours inside of these walls – If it weren’t for Tara, I’m quite sure I would’ve made friends of the bricks and family of the columns long ago,” he muses, his sarcasm tainted with uneasy contrition.

“Well, you know it’ll be waiting for you whenever you come back. If it makes you feel better, I’ll keep my perfect fire bolts to my own trained hands until I have you to supervise me again,” you laugh, tone purposefully parodic to lighten the mood, but the older man quickly shakes his head.

“Oh, gods, no – you’ll be doing no such thing,” he forbids, his immediate frown quickly softening out of instinct, as though he means to hide how serious his disapproval is. “You proceed with your studies and your practice, even if it is only Tara who can be present to guide you. I expect the flame to be perfected upon my next arrival,” he chuckles, and you find peace in his relaxation. Unfortunately, his pleasant expression is momentary, and the amusement in his smile fades as quickly as it came, leaving you with an unfamiliar turmoil in your gut, some twisting mix of doubt and rue.

Intent on making said amusement return, you don’t allow your own dissatisfaction to reveal itself, instead choosing to gloss over the strange ache by shrugging and rolling your eyes, further pursuing your playful façade. “Well, with you as my mentor, I’m certain I’m already on my merry little way to being the next Mystra – I’ll most definitely have a seat at the table of gods by the time you return.” Your lighthearted tease earns a quick cringe from the wizard, the outer corners of his eyes creasing as he virtually recoils, and then chokes out a fractured chuckle, shifting his gaze to the left.

Before you can ask what agitated him to the extent of deserving such a reaction, he speaks, the distress forcefully plucked from his face. “Beware – that’s quite the promise you’re making. Though it would be nothing short of an honor for this old stone nest to have hosted a premature god.”

“A bigger honor to have mentored one, no?” You remind him, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’ll be pleased so long as you manage to remember me, even once you’ve reached such admirable degrees of power. Praise my name to the high heavens – should you be so inclined.”

Why his response feels so incredibly despondent, you can’t really place. His tone takes on a strange, distant hurt – as though he were dejected by the mere idea of your potential (though rather improbable) apotheosis. However, such an attitude from the man who was, himself, mentored and sponsored by the very goddess you so jokingly threatened is… certainly implausible – it has to be – so you brush off the feeling as nothing more than a result of his unrelated stresses accidentally bleeding into this topic. Clearing your throat, you approach him, and the next expression on his face comes in the form of suspicion, though whatever mild paranoia might be cursing him isn’t strong enough to convince him to step away from you. Once comfortably close, maybe even a little too close, you look to the books decorating the dark wood shelf, pouting as you contemplate. “Fiction?”

Even if it does take him a second to process what you mean, he nods, clearing his own throat and shifting his attention to the variety of options, all of them being books he’s read far more than once, but familiarity never did keep him from enjoying the plots, or so he liked to tell you. “Indeed. I’m aiming for something to keep me company in the case of free time. Stories tend to pass that time quicker than studies, and… I’d rather leave any education material behind – for you, of course.”

“Do you plan on having a lot of free time during your trip?” You ask, merely aiming to keep the conversation up as you scan his choices, weighing the possibilities as you try to imagine what he may enjoy rereading the most.

“In all truthfulness, it may only be free time that I find myself with,” he sighs, a quiet thump following his admission, and you look down towards the noise to find his travel pack now resting on the ground. Slumped, and open wider than it was previously, the contents are revealed to your prying eyes; the silver glint of a blade, the scroll you saw previously, a jeweled ring that glows with a faint orange, and at the very bottom is a lazily-wrapped bedroll, haphazardly stuffed into the pit of the bag. You expected to find a change of clothes, a little bit of gold for wherever he plans to visit, but find only an absence of what you deemed traveling necessities.

“Where are you going?”

Turning your body reveals that Gale had moved across the room while you were investigating his package, and now he stood hovering over his desk, one palm flat against the surface. You were left only to watch the back of his head as he chose to gaze out at his balcony rather than meet your curious – and very concerned – stare. You know something is wrong, you’ve known all along, and you’d thought, or at least very desperately hoped you were overreacting. At least then you could ignore your aimless quells and instead put that energy towards cheering him up and making things better, but you are quickly realizing that whatever disturbs him is far outside of your pay grade, and understanding your hopelessness as an assistant is no help in overcoming his contagious dread. “North,” he answers, devoid of emotional attachment, his tone as dry as his throat. You shift your weight from your right hip to your left, an idle adjustment to bear whatever burdens he carries, aiming to prepare yourself for where this conversation could be leading.

“And… what exactly is waiting for you up north?” Your body moves forward in a slow three-step stride, your action haunted by the same hesitancy you exercised upon first meeting him, as if you don’t know the man who stands in front of you now.

“Solidarity.” He inhales, slow and restrained. Then his head drops, releasing that same breath. He continues; “You’re a good soul. A fine housemate – an even better apprentice. You deserve transparency, but I’ve allowed our conversations to remain fogged by my own guilty conscience. Of course, all secrecy has really done is riddle me with more guilt, and yet I prolonged your innocence.”

“I’m… not following,” you speak tenderly, the tension rising both in the air around you and in your throat, grieving whatever confession he teases before he’s even announced it.

“I won’t be returning. This trip will be my last. Due only to my own faults – there is no blame to be shared, before you ask.” He stares down at his desk, but then his focus shifts, and he watches your frame out of the corner of his eye, head just barely turned to see more of you in his peripherals. “I understand I’m asking a lot of you. To abruptly entrust you with the care of this tower, and my belongings, and darling Tara, it is a callous and inhuma–”

“Why?”

Gale falls silent, his mouth closing, his preplanned defense never making it off of his tongue. There’s stillness for far too long, neither of you managing a word. It makes you wonder if he’s trying to be cruel, leaving your mind to its wandering, silently panicked thoughts. You can’t help but begin trying to decipher the codes in his body language, in the interactions you’ve had with him recently, in the hints of his teachings gone unsaid, or in the secrets he’s never shared.

Just as you find yourself on a cliff’s edge of emotions, throat stinging with the urge to cry, your mentor stands up straight and approaches you, stopping when he’s a few inches away. He reaches for your wrist. He holds it, tenderly, the delicacy of his touch posing a silent request. Only after investigating the melancholy hazel of his eyes do you lift your wrist towards him, allowing him to guide it until you find yourself in a distantly familiar position.

He stands before you, holding your wrist in the space between your bodies while his spare hand takes a hold of the neckline of his robe, sliding it several inches down his chest, revealing the full mark of the weave, scattered brown hairs hardly shielding the brand from exposure. From there, he raises your wrist a little higher, and you recall the last time he allowed you to get this close, the memory leading you to straighten your hand and lay it against the pulse of the blight. Your touch is gentle at first, but when he gives a small nod, you ease your concerns and press more firmly, feeling the surprising softness of his skin, the texture of the hairs on his chest, and the distant beating of his tortured heart.

Last time, you recall being mildly surprised at the heat it produced, as it had been centralized in such a small location. This time, you feel the artificial warmth radiating off of his chest from further regions than just the pinpoint location of the orb. And it’s much higher in temperature than you remember, his ribs home to a silently raging furnace. You can’t help but feel intimidated – not by Gale, but instead by what he contains. It beats much like his heart, but it’s slower, and yet even more determined. While you hardly understand why, you feel connected to a starving malice within him, some inhuman spirit that seeks a meal you aren’t sure truly exists, at least not in this realm.

You look up at him, his eyes trained on the hand that rests on his chest. You’ve never seen worry so clearly displayed on his face; his eyebrows aren’t furrowed, but they’re firm, drawing faint lines in his forehead. His mouth doesn’t frown, it idles, waiting for the words to come to him before he makes any attempt to speak. His story is told in his eyes; the way he counts your fingers as they stem a connection with the weave, grounding himself in the stir of emotions, his gaze troubled and lost, nothing more than a clueless shell of the powerful sage he makes himself out to be. The powerful sage he’d made you believe in.

“It is the only god I answer to.” Gale meets your eye, the emotions that swirl behind his irises cause them to tremble, and you feel as though he seeks something from you. “It is all that I am; a vessel for the weave. I cannot run, I cannot hide, I cannot escape it. Try as I might to keep it satisfied, there is always more that it craves. This wildfire within me will reign carnage unforeseen by any prophecies, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. The artefacts – they hold it back, but I’ve found it burns with newfound impatience. It wills for destruction, whether it be the body of the host or of those around me. As difficult a choice as it is to make, it is an inevitable one, and I much prefer the former of my options. I’d rather no books be written about the Wizard of Waterdeep than bard’s fables on the extirpation caused by his shameful gluttony.”

“So you’re going north?” You whisper.

“So I’m going north,” he repeats. “I’ll travel until I reach empty plains, perhaps even uninhabited mountains. Some place quiet, some place lonely, some place where my curse will not befall others. This is my fate, and mine alone. I only pray that my final chapter is selfless enough to rewrite Selûne’s judgment of me.”

“Why haven’t you told me any of this before?”

Gale hesitates, and you see the ridge in his throat flinch as he gulps. “I thought it to be a mercy; to spare you from the truth was to spare you wholly. In hindsight, I recognize that this cat would claw its way out of the bag no matter the precautions I took, and my secrecy ultimately worked against my intentions – which I assure you, were nothing but the best – to protect you. Recently, if I may confess, I’ve come to doubt my decision to take you in.”

Your eyebrows flinch, you blink, unsure how you should respond – unsure how he expects you to respond. “Doubt?” You ask, deciding to allow him to share his story before you form an opinion on the matter.

“I believe I was desperate – not that I was fearful,” he clarifies, though the thin, watery line that sits on his lower eyelid betrays his defense, “but I reckon I didn’t think over my original promise to you as thoroughly as I should have. The truth is, I needed a second life. A chance to extend my own through a means that I understand, and have always understood, to be impossible – ambitious at best. I worry for Tara. I worry for this home. I worry for the secrets contained in my journals, or the studies that I have spent my entire lifetime, as short as it will soon be, perfecting and building. I yearned for an insurance; a way to prevent my existence from being a worthless one. If my intelligence enlightens no minds, if my studies save no lives, if my talent manipulating the weave means nothing, then I am nothing. I only wish to be more than a mere vessel for this scourge in my chest.” He pauses, his gentle hold on your wrist growing a bit firmer, and he closes his eyes, as though ashamed of the confessions he whispers. “My worries led me to you, believing you to be the answer to them. I never could have predicted that you would become my greatest worry of all.”

Now, you let your lips curve into a frown, and he seems further wounded by your physical reaction. “More than a vessel? That’s–” You can’t prevent a scoff from leaving your throat, and you shake your head. “You’re not just the orb, Gale. You’re a person. You were a man before it, and you’re still a man now, aren’t you?”

Gale’s hurt turns to confusion, and he shakes his head as well. “You’re not understanding.”

“No, I’m not,” you cut back, disbelief clear in your tone. “You’re the Wizard of Waterdeep. You act like you’ve never done anything of importance.” You retract your hand, and Gale is hesitant to release his grip, but he does nonetheless. “What are you even running from? If you want to make a difference, then stay and make one. Did you eat a bad meal? Are you seriously thinking straight?” You question, brows furrowed.

“Your words flatter me, but I fear I haven’t made myself clear. I can’t stay. This mistake is not a mere embarrassment, this is not just an attempt to flee from my problem. There is no avoiding this fate. I’m going to die.”

It’s unlike you to feel genuine frustration – anger – at a situation, especially one brought on by Gale’s words, but you can’t help the near boil in your chest. “You sound pathetic,” you huff, and Gale’s lack of insult only irritates you further. “Look around, Gale! Look at you.” You point at the black circle on his chest, prodding it with your finger. “You told me, when we first met, that you were a prodigy. That you were a master of the weave. I mistook you for arrogant, but that was being modest. You were, you are, Mystra’s chosen – who are you talking about now? Because I know it’s not the Gale Dekarios who has sheltered me, taught me, and supported me. I know it’s not the Gale Dekarios I’ve shared books and home with for the last year and a half.”

“You sound like my mother,” he chuckles, as if anything about the situation is amusing. “I’ve heard this speech before. You need not waste your breath on an inevitable doom such as myself. Please, save it. There are much better words to spend your time crafting.” He doesn’t scold you, he doesn’t defend himself, he merely deflects your disagreement, and you scoff – you’ve heard self-deprecation from him before, all of the prior remarks being attempts at humor, but there’s no sarcasm lacing his tongue this time around.

“Do I mean nothing to you?” You ask, stern, barely keeping composure.

That question seems to stir something within him, and he frowns. “Of course you mean something to me. You mean plenty to me – more than you may ever understand. Don’t be foolish.”

“Yet you keep refusing to hear me out.”

“There is nothing to hear out,” he argues, a short sigh leaving his lips, signs of a growing irritation. You feel the need to latch onto that – to see him get angry means that he cares, and you needed to know that he cared, because he spoke about his own death as if it held the same importance as a simple meal. Like this suicide mission he threatened was a mere walk in the woods. It made you sick.

“Grant me an audience, if you care. Even if you don’t care about yourself – if you care for me, as you’ve said you do, all I ask is that you listen.”

“There is no changing what I’ve been afflicted with – there is no undoing this curse I’ve wrought upon myself,” he continues, taking a step back and closing his eyes, searching for some kind of calm. If he believed you would grant him that mercy when he refused to have any mercy on you, he was more of an idiot than you’d ever expected.

“You’re being unreasonable. For such an intelligent man, you’re closer to a jester than any wizard I’ve ever known. You are not just this curse – You are a scholar, and an accomplished sage, and a friend, and a son, and a mentor!”

“For the love of all that is blessed – stop talking!” He barks, shaking his head, his eyes squinted, his stress forming shallow lines across his forehead. He takes a moment, breathes, and then opens his eyes again and steps forward, placing his hands on your shoulders as though to steady you. “No matter your words, I am still a threat to every living being around me. The orb is unstable, I know this for a fact. I am living on borrowed time. Should I stay, I risk leveling the entirety of this city we call home and dousing it in a thick red paste that was once the breathing civilians. I have studied this feat, and all that may relate to it in even the slightest parallels, and there is no solution. No amount of words – read or heard – can prevent fate. Yell and bicker to your heart’s content, but know that it will all amount to nothing.”

“You speak without a care in the world for yourself. Aren’t you scared?” You’re pleading at this point, unable to grasp the idea that he’ll be gone so soon, that this disappearance has been building for as long as you’d known him and yet you remained utterly unaware. It was the content of nightmares, and yet he stared you in the face with such assurance.

“I am terrified,” he sighs, grip tightening on your shoulders. “But I must trust destiny’s path for me. I will walk this road alone, just as I truly deserve. Your ‘great mentor’ is no more than a shell of a mortal man, and I have survived off of my greed alone. I could not be content with everything Mystra so graciously offered me, and I am facing the consequences of that naivety.”

“What are you talking about?” Again, you shake your head – you aren’t sure what else to do. You’re completely lost, unable to help the man you pledged your allegiance to. The man who took you in, who looked after you and asked only for your assistance in return for his undying generosity, is in need of assistance and you, his only trusted assistant, are completely unable to help him. It feels cruel, to him and to yourself.

“Mystra was not merely my mentor. She was everything to me. My entire world revolved around her, and to an extent, it still does – She guided me to possess the wonders of the weave in ways I never imagined possible, and did it all while allowing me to share a bed with her, and find a place within her heart. I owe my life, body, and soul to her, and yet I was not pleased with the power she lent me.”

Only further confused, you blink several times, his words finding your mind a difficult place to settle in with the tornado of thoughts and feelings that raged within your skull. “You– You were her lover?”

“I understand it’s hard to believe, a mere mortal man laying with her holiness, and it only deepens the canyon that is my regret. I believed I could prove my undying love for her through means no other mortal has ever even dared of imagining. Well, through means only one other man has ever dared attempting. Do you recall the story of Karsus?” He asks, taking in a deep breath, and you reply with only a small nod. “See, when Mystra was resurrected to rule the weave, there was a part of the weave that remained inaccessible to even her great power. A fool I was, to believe I could retrieve that final piece without repercussions. In my pursuit of professing my boundless affections and gratitude for her, I opened a pandora’s box, and when Mystra learned of my disobedience to her orders, she left me. Rightfully so.”

“She what?” Your jaw slacks, the buffet of this new information providing only a headache where you expected answers. It made sense, now, why he was so touchy at the mention of her – this curse he found himself hexed by was caused by his feelings for her, feelings you never even knew existed, and she’d abandoned him in his time of need?

“As you know, the piece became one with my body, and has left me with an incurable appetite for the magic contained in enchanted artifacts. The temporary stabilization those consumptions provided has long past fled, and I find the orb entirely out of my control. Without satisfaction, it threatens to rupture, and it will reign tragedy on my surroundings with my body as the time bomb – you understand I do mean that quite literally. I am a danger. A threat. I am the blight within me, no matter your objections, however passionate and good-spirited they may be.”

It isn’t only the presence of his hands that make your shoulders feel so heavy. It was far too soon in your apprenticeship for him to part, but with the urgency in which he spoke, it wouldn’t be long before he left. You were angry – or, at least you most certainly should be angry. You should be yelling at him, scolding him for springing this on you at the last possible moment, and you even go so far as to lock eyes with him, prepared to voice your pounding thoughts, and yet it’s the eye contact that renders you speechless. The only thing you feel aside from your confusion is a stirring guilt. Your mouth falls open, tongue seeking the words that your throat lacks, and you shake your head, pleading with him, pleading with his fate.

Gale looks at you with pity. It stings worse, like salt in the open wound that was your bleeding heart, to know the man who would soon be forced to tangle with death took pity on you. The hands on your shoulders pull you in, and you lean into his chest, expecting to cry, but you can’t even manage tears. His arms wrap around you, and your upper half falls limp, relying on his strength to support you. Strength you’ll soon be without.

It’s stupid to cry, and you’re almost glad that you fail to do so. It’s stupid to be worked up over. The entire situation is hopeless. Perhaps there is solace to be found in understanding that it’s inevitable, that there is nothing you could possibly do to change the circumstances, but you struggle to see that as a silver lining.

There was still so much to learn – so much he needed to teach you. He was leaving you a fortune, a home, even a companion, and yet you were utterly ungrateful. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t possibly understand, that you’d only ever be satisfied with him, and there was no point in communicating that now. It would only serve to increase his guilt, and he deserved what little peace may come with believing you’d somehow manage without him. Eventually, you aren’t sure how long it takes exactly, you return the hug, your hands clasping behind his back.

The mood is long past soured, but his warmth is unchanged. The comfort he provides is as persistent and reassuring as ever, even if it does little to quell your concerns. Your appreciation of him thus far, as endless as it has been, has certainly not been enough. So you appreciate this moment as much as you can, burning it into your memory. His warmth, the faint, familiar scent of sandalwood and sage, the sound of his breathing – his presence as an entirety. Memories would never do him justice, you knew that, but memories would soon be the best you could manage of him, so they had to be perfect, clear, permanent. Even when you tighten your hold on him, refusing to give him up so easily, he doesn't say anything, allowing the bliss-laced ignorance of fate to linger for a little longer. Where you just about burrow into his chest, his hug is much gentler, polluted by the bittersweetness of his proclamation. Although the contact is minimal and noticeably restrained, his chin rests on one of your shoulders, his stress evident even in the reticent huffs of his breathing.

However much you wish otherwise, the hug too comes to an end, and Gale pulls away, leaning down to be perfectly eye-level with you, an all-too-familiar snide smile on his face. He holds your jaw with one hand, while the other remains on your shoulder, and both hands squeeze where they rest. “I have no doubt that you’ll make me proud. All I ask is not to let this place rot away without me. I don’t expect you to carry on my studies, or ‘gain a place at the table of the gods’. I only wish for you to find success. Follow your dreams, the whole spiel. Wherever you may find that happiness is entirely up to you. I’ll rest easy so long as it is found.”

You return his smile – as empty as it is, you want to give him hope. Of course, it’s hard to pull from an empty trough, but perhaps he doesn’t mind. With a pat of your cheek, he stands up straight again, taking in a breath and returning his attention to the books he’d been perusing before the whirlwind of a confession. Helplessly attached, you lean against his side, shifting your attention as well. After a few moments of scanning, you approach the shelf and reach for the faded orange cover of a book, the silver words embedded on the spine having lost their shimmer long ago. Gale tilts his head, curious at your choice, and you glance over the cover before handing it off to him.

“The Would-Be Saint,” he remarks, taking hold of the book and looking over it himself. In search of a confirmation, he looks up at you, meeting your eye. You nod, and only then does he reach for his traveling pack and slip the book inside.

“When do you leave?”

“I’ll make my departure this afternoon.”

“I’ll miss you.” The words have to be squeezed out of your still tensely tightened throat, and you offer another small nod, not wanting to say more for fear of cracking. The two of you would never see one another again – you want to leave him with a positive image of you, you’d hate to add to his worries. Staying strong wouldn’t make up for your inability to fix the situation, but at least it was something.

“I’ll miss you too,” he replies, still smiling, and you wonder if he is attempting the same false composure as you. Your perception of him could never be ruined, or even damaged, but you remind yourself that you should still be grateful for the generous thought.

Then, there’s a moment where you can’t quite read his eyes, as the anguish in his expression is clouded by some other, notably foreign, emotion. It lasts just a moment – and then he looks away, towards his balcony, and clears his throat, and the mystery vanishes. It leaves you with a new, small but certainly present, twitch of discomfort, and you attempt to follow his lead, distracting yourself with the surroundings.

“I need to gather a few more items to bring along with me. If you’ll excuse me,” he says, dipping his head and moving towards the door. You reach for him, catching his arm and stopping him in his tracks. He looks back at you, his face slightly red, but you assume it’s due to the vulnerability he expressed in the conversation.

“Please don’t leave without saying goodbye,” you request.

He sparks a small smile, and he shakes his head. “I would never. I’ll return to you for a better final moment. I’d hate to leave this off on such a melancholy note.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You hold his gaze for an extra moment before releasing him, trusting him wholly; he wouldn’t lie to you. Especially not about this. He gives one last nod before walking away, and you decide to spend the rest of your morning in his study, picking up spare items that are out-of-place, making the room a little neater. It’s a nervous tidying, most certainly, but you hope it will keep you busy. And you want his final viewing of the study to be a pleasant one, not one tainted by his stressed irresponsibility.

– – –

“I’ve made a mistake. A terrible, nightmarish, dire mistake.”

“Oh, you’ve made plenty of those, Mr. Dekarios. What is it this time?”

“I can’t leave. I can’t possibly leave.”

The tip of her tail flicked, and then a low purr followed, vibrating with a sense of pride – of amusement. “Foolish boy. You’ve realized, haven’t you? I’d believed you’d be clueless enough to remain completely unaware; you had me worried for a moment there.”

“Worried?” He squints at the Tressym, confusion replacing his guilty expression.

“You didn’t really think I’d be so eager to release you? Oh, you doubt me. I’m wounded. You don’t have the heart to disappear. You just needed a reason to stay.”

“I don’t want a reason to stay.”

“But you’ve found it, haven’t you?”

“Against my better judgment.”

Another purr, this one sounding more akin to a chuckle. “What mistake have you made, dear?”

“I’ve allowed my heart to overrule my head.”

“A wondrous thing, love is.”

“A treacherous thing.”

#gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios angst #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #gale bg3 angst #gale bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale x reader #tara the tressym #fuck mystra

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thecomicallytragicgangle · 11 months

Text

[It is done]

[mod note: this is temporarily replacing the link to magma (the art drawing thing we have so we can draw together!) as pinned post so heres the link: https://magma.com/d/zzg8vd99i2]

[the reason gangle isnt included is because she went to go get snacks totally not because i forgot to draw her. nope]

[credits to shard anon, @theoneandonlysun, and the mod of zooble's blog for majority help! @eeboshmeebo also contributed to the art!!][if you helped with the art and you wanna be credited, message me please, because i might've missed you? a lot of people swung by i just wanna make sure i credit them all]

[behold....]

[TA DAH!!! below the read more thing is the list of people featured + pings (sorry yall, i just wanna make sure you see art,,)]

[btw, bonus: @easton-likes-sandwiches my bad i couldn't include you (since easton is kinda. not in digital land.) but here ya go, a bonus!]

1: @rook-specter [i hope i drew you correctly, i couldn't really find a sona to use]

2: @the-moth-from-elsewhere [btw i know you wanted to add details but imo i think it looks fine like this,,thanks for some of the help and support, though!!]

3: pickle anon [unsure if they have a blog, so i can't @]

4: shard anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog, but they helped alot!! ty ty]

5: @unfunnyaceartist [OK i know you only appeared for a bit but you agreed to move night.,,and your sona looks cool..so..obilgatory appearance in the art!]

6: @sugarcane-soup [I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO COLOR YOUR SONA,,i hope i did well]

7: @zooooble [zoob...]

8 and 9: [@askobjects firey and leafy look so goofy in this image,, i hope you like them]

10: @sign-anon [in the middle of drawing this i did NOT know sign anon died..whoops?]

11: @boldtextanon [bold text anon is fine guys. Hes fine. i swear]

12: @yougotjinx3d [mage anon and vamp anon were drawn by sun if i remember correctly, so erm..ya!! they're silly people]

13: @bloodforvampanon [me when i GET YOU. but fr. silly guy]

14: crownon! [unsure if they have a blog, but erm..crow]

15: eepy anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog..they literally look so silly its crazy]

16: rat [you know who you are /silly]

17: @gummy-axolotl [I HOPE I GOT THE COLORS RIGHT,,HERE YOU GO!!!]

18: @liloblogs [im gonna be fr we got this close to confusing lilo with juko,,,im not very great at oc lore. but lilo is so silly]

19: panic anon! [i think they're also the same blog as lilo? unsure. but yea!! they are goofy and silly and probably terrified of the horror movies]

20: @justadustymoth [MOTh. moth,,,,, moths are so silly. like. fr..]

21: bow anon! [idk if you have a blog but i hope you like the design!!!!]

22: @squirrelboi [I DIDNT KNOW IF YOU HAD A SONA SO I USED YOUR PFP...I HOPE THATS OKAY]

23: @eeboshmeebo [there was barely any room so i could only include a mask,,but i hope thats okay!! also ty for help on the mask]

24: @kiwidragon [I HOPE I DREW THE DRAGON OK..IVE NEVER DRAWN DRAGONS HGHJFJFJF AND IDK THE SIZE COMPARISON..]

25: FISH. ANON.. [you got included last minute HGKDHJSHJSHS but . fish]

26: @lightthepathwithalantern [i hope i drew lantern anon okay,,,they're so cool looking,,,]

27: @spapman [I ALSO HOPE I DREW YOUR SONA OKAY,,, AHHFHGFHDHJD

28: @ru-bwee [thank you for. the plush images. I will use them to mark important events /silly]

29: @bob-the-cemetery-ghost [Oh no,,,also i hope you dont mind being a bit in the background i didnt know how else to include youuu]

[literal walls of text,,hope yall dont mind all the @]

[THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING HERE,,HGHDJSJDFDD!!!!]

[erm,,if yall don't mind,,i hate asking but reblogs please ? i wanna see the art around !!!!]

#the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #ask blog #tadc #ooc #art #collab art #artwork #digital art

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throneofsapphics · 9 months

Text

deadly instincts

Fenrys x Reader

Summary: “That night, Aelin lost a valued member of her court, a dear friend, and trust in another.”

Warnings: angst, suicide (not reader) referenced, violence, implied past abuse, a bit of fluff

A/N: this is based on a request, but I won’t put it here because of spoilers. for @moonlightttfae happy birthday!!

deadly instincts

Fenrys x Reader

Summary: “That night, Aelin lost a valued member of her court and a dear friend, and trust in another.”

Warnings: angst, suicide (not reader) referenced, violence, implied past abuse, a bit of fluff

A/N: happy birthday to -. this is based on a request, but I won’t put it here because of spoilers :)

The two of you had a ‘working’ relationship first. Aelin had scouted you to be another emissary for Terrasen, and you gladly took on the position. In the beginning, you shadowed Fenrys for a while, and the two of you became fast friends - always sent on assignments together.

You were drunk enough you struggled to remember the name of the gods-damned city you were in. It had to be the liquor, considering the foreign dignitaries were smirking at Fenrys, specifically. Even wasted off your ass, you wouldn’t cause an international incident or let your friend. Nope, you were too classy for that.

At least you could hold your liquor, although that couldn’t be said for the male next to you. He let out a low hiss as your foot stomped on his. “Get it together,” you whispered under your breath, as the others looked away.

“I’m not that -”

Gods, even his words were slurring.

“Stop talking.”

Apparently your voice was firm enough, because the male’s mouth snapped closed. A few glasses of water later, you decided he was probably okay for you to walk back to your lodgings.

“We have an early start tomorrow,” you told the others. One man, someone you’d grown to know rather well over the decades, eyes darted between you and Fenrys, before he gave you a knowing look. Your mouth indented at the corner, relaying the silent; not really, but I need to get his drunk ass home.

You slid from the booth, putting a gold mark down to cover your tab, ignoring their attempts to shove it back at you, and linked your arm with Fenrys, “Get it together, wolfie.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Good, he was more coherent now.

“Oops, I forgot” your lips curled into a smile, voice honeyed with false innocence.

Fenrys scoffed, and flicked your nose. The bit of alcohol you had delayed your reactions, and you failed to swat his hand away.

Rowan would have both of your asses if he knew you were intoxicated in a foreign kingdom. There’s always a chance it could get back to them. You voiced your concerns.

“What the bastard doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.”

That … insubordination, you guess, isn’t something you could get away with, but Fenrys had known the ‘bastard’ a lot longer than you.

“I love you,” Fenrys sighed, you tilted as he leaned some of his weight on you, leg extending to try and keep your balance.

“Love you too, friend.”

There was an extra emphasis on that last word. Several people, including their majesty and highness, had commented on the ‘romantic’ tension between the two of you. But, you weren’t quite ready for that. A shiver ran down your spine, thinking of your past failed encounters. Disastrous, more like.

Fenrys, as always, noticed, “everything alright?”

A forced smile and nod didn’t seem to satisfy him, but he kept from questioning you further. With great timing, you crossed the threshold of the inn you were staying at, and thanked the gods your rooms were on the first floor.

“Lock your door,” he instructed over his shoulder.

“Yes, yes,” you waved him off, but did, going the extra mile to secure a chair under the handle. Peace had flourished in the continents throughout recent years, but you could never be too careful.

Three weeks later, you were back in Terrasen. Fenrys was … shifty. Not avoiding you, but he’d been looking at you strangely. At first, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you, but after a few days of it you’d had enough.

“What is it?” You asked. The two of you were alone in his sitting room, a fire raging in the corner. Your legs were stretched out on the couch, Fenrys’s thumb running circles into your couch.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” each word was careful as his body tensed, hand settling down on your leg.

“I’d hope so,” you tried to reply casually - but your heart was racing. The way he looked at you … it was not like a friend.

Every fear from the past surged, bubbling over into a state of near panic, but you forced yourself to focus on him. This was Fenrys, Fenrys was safe. A friend, confidant, and steady presence in your life over the last few years. But, things had slowly been changing for the two of you. More casual touches and affection, craving each other's presence more and more. It felt natural, everything with him was easy, natural even. Maybe your friendship was strong enough to survive if this went … wrong. He reached for your hand, and you let him pull you up to sit.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” he murmured. Carefully, watching each reaction, each tensing of his muscles, you reached for him, letting your hand rest against his cheek. He didn’t flinch, he leaned into your touch.

“I doubt there’s much that could ruin our friendship,” you breathed.

He took his time closing the gap between you, resting his forehead on yours. “So do I.”

“Could we chat, outside perhaps?” A female said with a saccharine smile. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but Aelin had said specifically to try and grow closer ties with her territory, so you relented. This entire ball had been ‘fun’ in a way, but you were looking forward to getting back to the suites you and Fenrys now shared. Three blissful and beautiful decades, and you fell in love with him more and more each day.

She led you into a familiar courtyard, and your eyes scanned the area, barely spotting the glint of moonlight on steel.

You managed to duck the deadly swipe to your neck, redirecting it to your arm instead, screaming as flesh tore and blood bubbled out from it. Survival mode kicked in, and you fought back, ducking each of her blows. Where was your magic? At least she doesn’t have any. Throwing her arm to the side, squeezing her wrist to dislodge the knife, before twisting it at the right angle - a small crack and scream coming from her. You kicked her knees out from under her, a sharp blade pressing against her throat. You wouldn’t kill her, now, you needed answers. And help.

From the corner of your eye, blonde hair flashed and a smidge of relief went through you. Fenrys was here, you weren’t alone anymore.

A large weight slammed against you, the back of your head hitting the wall with enough force that stars shone in your eyes, your vision blacking out as a hand squeezed your throat, legs leaving the ground.

Fenrys. Eyes dark and murderous, you tried to whisper his name; but his entire being was filled with rage. What the hell was happening? Your lips opened and closed, not enough air or words to come out. Gods, he was going to kill you.

Air flushed back into your lungs as a strong wind threw him to the side, sending him skidding back against the courtyard, your back brushed against the stone, ass hitting the ground as you struggled to get air back into your lungs.

“W-what?” Aelin was in front of you, her back to you as she seemed to stand guard. Thrumming with murderous energy, thankfully not directed at you. Vaguely, you registered guards tugging the other female away. Good. But … Rowan was speaking to Fenrys in low tones, arms wrapped around his chest to keep him from flying towards the other female.

“Mate,” you read the words on his lips. Something in your chest splintered. Your lover’s mate tried to kill you. And so did he. Instincts, you could understand, but there was no coming back from this. It felt like your future fell apart in front of you.

Aelin’s hand wrapped around your forearm, tugging you to your feet and holding you to her side, carefully skirting out of Fenrys’s vision. “We’ll get you to a healer.”

Every step was a struggle to stay conscious, and you made it all the way to the door of the healers rooms before collapsing.

That night, Aelin lost a valued member of her court, a dear friend, and trust in another. It would take decades to build that up again, even though his reaction could be explained as instinct. They’d all been furious beyond belief, but no more than Fenrys was at himself. Rowan somehow kept him locked away for a week, until his fervor towards the bond had more than settled, and he was begging to try and see you. He made multiple requests - to explain and ask for forgiveness, each one more desperate than the last, but she’d denied each one.

As soon as you healed, you’d left Orynth.

“Do you … want to see him? He asked,” Aelin hesitated on her words, hesitated to dig up the fresh wound. You only looked at her, eyes haunted, and shook your head.

Now, she watched as slung your pack over your shoulders.

“Come back one day?” She nearly pleaded. “Please.”

Recognizing the rarity of the word coming from the Queen’s lips, your face softened. “One day,” the assurance was weak. One day could mean decades or centuries in the lives of immortals, but Aelin would take what she could for now, and hold on to it. Despite needing the space, walking away hurt.

It was three years before you returned. Terrasen was your home, and nowhere else felt right. Facing him would be the biggest struggle, but you couldn’t avoid him forever. You’re immortal, and spending the rest of your life hiding away from your home would be miserable. Disappearing in the early hours of the morning, only the moonlight overhead, and Aelin and Rowan to wave you off.

As soon as you spotted Terrasen, as soon as you breathed in the fresh air - you knew you made the right choice.

Each letter he sent was opened, but never returned. You hated yourself for it, but some part of you still craved him - craved what you had. Something that won’t return. It disappeared that day, within the space of minutes.

One of the conditions of your return was to not work with Fenrys. Aelin hadn’t questioned it.

Each time he spoke to you, public or private, you brushed it off.

Had you ever seen the male cry before? Maybe not. But three years ago took away your ability to. Took away any chance of feeling real human emotions again. Sure, you could fake it - and had done so to great success, but the actual sensations never settled in you anymore.

“I understand … you were protecting your mate,” you forced a small curve to your lips. “I’m past it.”

No, you weren’t. Aelin told you in hushed words what happened to the female - how they’d found her dead by her own hand, and you hated that your former friend went through it - you were still glad the bitch was dead.

Fenrys spent the next century winning you back, and maybe the trust would never fully be there again - but damn you it worked. The same person who took it away, breathed life back into you once you let him in.

Sun warming the sheets, soft snores came from behind you. Soft, but loud enough they’d woken you. Doing the mature thing, you kicked his leg.

“What the fuck?” his eyes opened, still half lidded.

“You’re snoring.”

“Returning the favor, love,” his voice was rough with sleep, and you loved it.

“I do not snore,” you hissed anyway.

“Mhm,” his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. You sighed, but melted into his embrace. “Happy anniversary,” he whispered.

#fenrys x reader #fenrys x y/n #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam x y/n #throne of glass fic

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sunsetandthemoon · 2 years

Note

saw in your tags you mentioned earthmix were in a serious fight while filming moonlight chicken? what's the story there? (ty in advance if you answer this and np if you don't :) )

Hii. Ok, so, while I do follow them on Instagram and Twitter, I never noticed anything until they talked about it during the MLC promo a few weeks ago, so I definitely don't know the full story, but here is a short summary of all the information that I’ve managed to gather from Twitter.

Apparently, there was a 4-5 month period last year where Earth and Mix were fighting (so-called their “divorce era”). It started with them going from constantly hanging out together to never interacting with each other anymore and fans quickly noticed something was up. Then this video from the MLC set was posted and it only further fueled all the speculations (it looks like a perfectly normal video to me tbh but to some, it looked like Mix was angry or like he was sulking 🤷)

They also had a few work events during that time and fans reported a noticeable tension between them. There was also a lot of subtweeting and indirecting on their social media including posts like this:

which is funny considering this is how they described each other in an interview once

("am I still your flower" is absolutely sending me 💀)

some more Mix retweets x/x

Earth even posted this on his insta story

and then, during the Oishi Magic Of Zero trip, they seemed to have finally gone back to their normal selves (x)

they even acknowledged the fight and said that they had made up and that everything was okay between them again (x/x)

and everyone was happy for them including P'Godji who posted this video (x)

Mix even posted this on his story

which may or may not have been a reference to this scene from ATOTS

then, during their interviews recently, they talked a bit more about their fight (x) (their poor manager 😭)

and P'Aof even teased them about it by saying "the hard part for me is, I wanna work with them when they aren’t fighting with each other" when EM were asked what were the easy/hard parts of working together on three different series (x)

speaking of P’Aof, I need to include this bit from MLC bts where he forgot Jim and Wen weren’t supposed to kiss each other during their sex scene in ep1 because it’s just so funny like dhfjhsdjkd

P‘Aof: *after watching them unnecessarily devour each other five takes in a row while knowing damn well they’re in the middle of their divorce era* “whoops my bad 🤭 please don’t kill me” 😂😂😂😂

(x)

anyway - TLDR - Moonlight Chicken was filmed during their divorce era and they were spending their days filming scenes like this

only to then go home and start subtweeting and shading each other online at the end of the day 😂

but they're making up for it now by being inseparable and constantly posting about each other. there are too many moments to link but here are some honorable mentions: x/x/x/x

including these posts from last night x/x

#anonymous #earthmix #moonlight chicken #oh man you should see my twitter search now after trying to find all these tweets dhfjkdshk #big shoutout to YILOVEY for always providing all the translations #i couldn't find more indirects but i know there are a lot more since i saw people talking about them #they really said yes we're having a fight and we'll make it everyone's problem lmaoo

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sophietv · 1 year

Text

The Ultimate LSK Thread Of Koincidences (2021) Part 1

Here's part one of all the Koincidences that happened in 2021.

Those are all the Kaylor evidences I could find for that year. If I've forgot some, don't hesitate to tell me so I can add them!

If you haven't read the posts for the other years, I highly suggest you do before reading this one:

Fall 2019 (X)

2020 Part 1 (X)

2020 Part 2 (X)

As always, I'll include link to more informations on certain piece of Kaylor Lore as we go, so some Koincidences are easier to understand. When there's a (X) beside something, it's to give you more context and help you understand better.

Here's the link to the incredible Masterposts that helped me do this one: (X) (X)

Before starting 2021, let's just go back in 2020 for a second! I was at the picture limit on my 2020 Part 2 post and I think it's really important to add this one.

Decembre 2020:

Decembre 11th 2020:

Karlie post a video on Klossy about her 2021 Vision Board (X)

In this video, she has the book Untammed by Glennon Doyle on her Vision Board.

Untammed is Glennon's memoir where she talks about falling in love with a woman and overcoming comphet.

Decembre 14th 2020:

Taylor comments on a Twitter posts from Glennon's wife.

Saying how her book has been a huge help for her that year.

January 2021:

January 9th:

Right Where You Left Me and It's Time To Go are out in the Deluxe Version.

Most Gaylors believe that they are broken up. And Most Swifties believe that Karlie in fact betrayed Taylor.

January 10th:

Taylor posts about Olivia Rodrigo saying: That's my baby and I'm proud!

January 26th:

Taylor releases the "Dad hat"

It's the first time ever that she includes this in her collection.

(coincidently, she added a "dad hat" in her merch collection ealy in July this year...)

February 2021:

February 18th:

Taylor does a post saying: Cancel the DNA test.

February 21st:

Taylor releases Love Story as the first single of Fearless (Taylor's Version) AKA Karlie's favourite song.

Remember how Karlie used the same yellow heart back in 2020?

March 2021:

March 14th:

Grammy's.

Taylor does last minute arrangements on her dress.

Adding a sunflower and a little daisy. (There's a making off video of her dress and those two flowers are not on the original).

Here's a post about it: (X)

Levi's birth is announced while Taylor is performing that night (It's dated back only later to March 11th) :

People pick up on the Koincidences immediatly. Even the GP finds it odd:

On the pictures Taylor took that night, posted on Jack's Instagram. She is seen doing an 3 and a 11 (Levi was born on March 11th):

It was her third album of the year and her 11th Grammy....still odd...

Taylor wears a Daisy Guitar strap while performing that night:

She also performs for the first time with the Folklore's Cabin...wich is weirdly similar to the Castro Cabin in Big Sur (Where she and Karlie stayed): (X)

And at the moment she receives her award.

Aaron does a speech and thanks his wife and kids. Taylor becomes really emotional all of sudden when he mentions his kids.

You can see Jack trying to comfort her:

youtube

Starts at 1:50

April 2021:

April 2nd:

Taylor releases the Fearless Vaults:

As you can see in the picture. The 13th word to goes out of the vault is Baby.

The door handle is also really visibly a K :

And let's not forget the most important thing: The Swift-Kloss family crest is present on the vault. (X)

April 8th:

Taylor does a post mentionning her: two kids.

April 16th:

Taylor does an interview for Fearless (Taylor's Version) and explains how the meaning of the song That's When changed for her over the years.

youtube

Starts 11:22

April 23rd:

Taylor does for the first time ever a merch drop for Mother's Day.

May 2021:

May 20th:

Karlie does a photodumb of during her pregrancy and after.

She wears the same Levi's overalls that Taylor will wear not long after. Just in a different color.

And also. Eye theory: (X)

May 26th:

Karlie post a picture of her. And you can clearly see in the background a Santal 26 candel AKA Taylor's favourite that she has all over her house (it's been mentionned several times in secret sessions).

Ok!

I've reached the photo limit so I'll continue in another post!

I'll link it here when it done!

Here is part 2! (X)

#kaylor #lsk #koincidences #gaylor theory #gaylors #gaylor twitter #gaylor swift #gaylor #lgbetty

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masonmiamor · 2 years

Text

words and items yet to be filled - - mason mount x reader.

gif is not mine! it’s @canirove gif!

the original post isn’t popping up on the tag so i’m “reposting again”.

this is the link to the first part!

“Are you going to pretend we didn’t have a good time the other night?” asked Mason. His bed hair is in full display wearing a black Nike tracksuit and a pair of sneakers. You stood there in awe, getting deja vu all over again. “No… But what difference does it make?” you said raising an eyebrow and your left hand coming to your hip. He cocks his head to the side and forces a tight smile.

“A huge difference Y/n… You have no idea.”

“Mason, I don't know what else you want from me” you attempt to say calmly, not trying to sound nervous. “I just want to talk, simply talk Y/n. Is that so much to ask for?” his brown eyes plead, desperately just trying to pry you? You knew you shouldn't but reluctantly you nodded, “I don’t know if I'm ready to talk to you. This could go one or two ways Mason, and I'm afraid… I’m afraid to end on a bad note again and that is the last memory and thing I have of you.”

“Let me come inside. And we can just talk, I won't force you to accept anything. I just want to try and amend things. Clear the bad air between us,” Mason promises and you find yourself giving in, how could you refuse this pleading man infront of you? “Okay, but keep in mind I wasn't expecting to have guests over,” you note making him let out a small chuckle but accepting the invite into your flat.

Mason's chest feels heavy and cold as he walks in again after so long. He notes nothing here has changed as much except for new plants and some paintings, including the ones the two of you did while on a beach trip. He finds himself walking around the living room to take any details, he lets out a laugh when he sees the polaroids of your relationship still hung up, concert tickets, the sucker wrappers where he wrote small notes before you started dating, and even the plastic rose that had slight dust on it.

“Along with the necklace you have on, is there a reason why you haven't taken these down?” he asks, you stare at his back feeling caught. “Uhm, no. I guess I forgot to take them down when I packed the rest of your stuff and memory box,” you say. He turns around and flutters his eyebrows confused, “What memory box?”

Again. You feel caught as if you've done something bad. You try to push down the tears and lump in your throat, “I made a memory box after we broke up. It just has small items, letters, photos, the bracelets we got in Portugal, an old CD we found, just some stuff from our happier times when we were together.” You still kept all those things he wanted to ask but didn't because that's just who you were, you kept the small meaningful things with you at all times.

Mason had the urge to see it, wanting to re-live the memories all over again, maybe even for the last time depending on if things don't go as expected. He walks closer to you, and you grow shy and anxious at the serious look on his face, “Can I see it? The memory box?” you nod quickly and dodge to the second bedroom in your flat. While you do that, Mason walks over to the corner again and steals the photo that Ben took after the champion league ceremony. Such a special and memorable night for both of you.

You walk back into the living room seeing him sitting down on the couch, still looking around. “Here we go,” you set down the red box labeled “Y/n and Mason’s Box <3.” He reluctantly removes the lid, but his heart flutters at the stuff inside. He takes out so many pictures and re-reads letters, all while you stood back and let the man you still love go through them. “This hurts one Y/n,” Mason whispers after he read the page where you wrote your ‘Vows to you’ if the one-day marriage did occur.

“I honestly forgot about that one, guess it won't happen, ill get rid of it you-” you try to take the sheet of paper back but he pulls it away from you. “No don’t. Don't get rid of it,” he begs shaking his head. “You envisioned it too? The happy ever afters? The future we would’ve built together?” Mason breaks his own heart by saying.

“Yes… I pictured everything Mase,” you croak feeling your bottom lip quiver. He moves closer to you craving to hug or hold your hand. But before he could, you let go and launched yourself into the familiar muscular body, wrapping your hands around his upper body and hiding your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the cologne and aftershave. He brings your warm body to his lap, your legs almost straddling him, and his hands find their way home inside your shirt and around your waist.

He hears the pain he caused by the way you sniffle and sob, especially as you've never been the one to cry or show what pain can do to you, it almost felt foreign again to him. All he can think about is you finally in his arms, selfishly never wanting to let go. He rubbed your sides and drew small shapes on your back, while yours remained wrapped around. He wanted to pull you close when he felt you pull back after a while.

“Tell me what I did for you to break up with me. Was I not lovable anymore? Was it something I did, say? Did you just simply fall out of love with me?” you asked wiping the remaining tears away from your face, attempting to compose yourself. His hands still stayed at your sides, “You didn't do a single thing Y/n! And of course, you were and are lovable, I can’t and will never forget what you did for me to bring me to where I am today, only you could do it.”

“I'm trying Mason. I'm trying so hard to move on from us and what we had, but your image constantly appears in my head over and over again, reminding me you're still there. So help me understand mason. We were doing so well, we were happy and stable. Why did you end something so perfect and loving for us?” you cried out.

‘Please don’t move on from me. Don’t move on from us,’ wanted to scream and let out Mason. But he didn’t just stared at you losing his confidence little by little.

Mason let a few tears fall, you had seen him at such vulnerable and down states before but never like this, especially because of you. “I began to compare myself to the people around me, I lost myself once our team began their downfall, it was too many differences to resolve at once, the confrontation scared me and I kept pushing you and everything away because I didn't want to face those challenges. In doing so, I lost you because I began to think I wasn't the person meant for you, I didn't want to hold you back from doing what you loved,” Mason continued, now tugging on the string of his hoodie.

“But you wouldn't have! We could've worked things out! You left so suddenly and expected to be good friends afterwards? The reason I never called or texted back was because I couldn't be friends with someone I deeply love. It was either you were with me or you weren’t. But I wasn't going to make that decision, I could never hold you back from achieving your goals. The number of times I saw photos of you and I wanted to hate you but I couldn't because, at the end of the day, you treated me so well,” you tell him watching as his stare bore down to you.

You could see the pain on his face, his sad eyes, the wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes, the small vein in his temple popping out, you desperately wanting to be the only one getting rid of it but things weren't like they were and this was the life the two of you created since then. “You don't know how much I’d love to close my eyes and start all over again. There's no way I can forget about you Y/n because it’s you, the woman I love, and the only one who can heal this pain you left inside when you left.”

“I know I fucked up, I live with it because it's me who caused us to be like this, but I can and will change that. We both know deep inside our hearts the passionate love and feeling for each other is still there. The history of two lovers who found their way back to each other,” he says whipping your tears away with the soft pad of his thumb. Your hand goes up and slowly removes it from your face, the feeling of uncertainty coming back, “How do I know you won't leave again? That you do what you did again?”

“You came into my life at such a correct time, and I can't afford to lose you again Y/n. I love you so much to let go of our love that easily and freely. If anything being apart has reminded me of how much you did for me, for us, and I took it for granted sometimes. I was stupid and immature to let you go, listening to others rather than myself who knew deep down what the right thing was,” Mason says interlocking your hands and rubbing his thumbs over your delicate and soft knuckles.

“I promise y/n. I won't leave or lose you again. I can't promise those days where we will have our downs, but I can say that from now on it will be better and have loving days, if you allow me back into your life…” he whispers along your lips after a few moments of stillness, your faces suddenly so close to each other you can see the small scar on his lip and freckles that adorn his skin, the redness on his face, and lashes that touch his cheeks due to his closed eyes.

“You have no idea how good it feels to be back in your embrace Mason. It feels so right and perfect, I almost forgot how your touch leaves a permanent sensation in my skin,” you whisper and surprise the both of you. “I spent almost 9 months without you completely lost and incomplete because I had lost the person who was there to pick me right back up. I can’t deny what I feel because it is so strong and present always, only you have made me feel this way…” you say along his lips watching as he began to breathe in deeper.

This is what you caused him to do…

“I love you Y/n…” he breathes out and closes the small space between you by brushing and locking his lips with yours. He groans at your sweet taste when he kisses you, kissing you slowly yet so passionately it makes your head spin. “Mine, always will be mine,” he growls and pulls you closer by the waist. You gasp and tug at his hair but keep kissing him. You pull away and rest nose to nose seeing him bite his lip with a playful smile on display. “I love you Mason, but please don't break my heart again.”

He holds out his pinky waiting for you to wrap your small one around his, and when you do he declares and seals the promise. Mason knows not everything is yet to be solved but with time and little by little he will prove it to you and demonstrate just exactly how much you mean to him. His chest fills with butterflies when he hears you giggle at his actions which were leaving and plaster kisses all over your face, jaw, and neck.

“God I love you. So beautiful baby…” he compliments causing you to blush. “Stop it, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much,” you say standing up when you feel your legs beginning to tighten and cramp. “Let's bake like old times and then we can head to bed. We have no training tomorrow so I will be able to sleep and make breakfast for you, how does that sound” Mason suggests causing you to stare at him in awe.

“It sounds perfect handsome but, is this actually real? Or a dream?”

“Its very real baby, and get used to it because were forever my MJ,” he says, referring to the spiderman movie. He picks you up causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his torso, holding onto dear life. He sets you down in the kitchen, watching as you go and look for the required ingredients, after doing so, you tiptoe and give him a chaste kiss, he meets you half way.

He brings you into his chest and dances with you swaying side to side after putting the cookies in the oven. Kissing your temple from time to time and whispering just how much he missed and loves you. You set the table with some glasses of milk and the plate of cookies cheering to your love. Safe to say the cookies were finished in the span of minutes.

After showering and getting ready for bed you gave some clothes for him to sleep. You set the bed and sat down waiting for him to return with some water bottles, knowing the cookies will cause thirst later on in the night. He returns with the two bottles and the red memory box. “I hope we can still add stuff inside here?” he says shyly, his voice filled with nervousness.

“Yes Mase. Anything you want,” you smile at him, and observe when he pulls out the photo from when they won the UCL trophy and places it inside. “When did you-” you say curiously, “I was going to steal it if things went downhill, but since they didn’t… its now inside with other cherished memories we both built together.”

He changes into some plaid pj’s and a tight grey longsleeve that defined his body, his muscles in full view causing you to feel like a innocent schoolgirl again. He lays down and shuts off the lamp, facing you. Mason kisses you fervently once more and brings you closer to his chest, holding the back of your head while he kisses you once more. But you had different plans wanting for him to feel the love. “Lay on my chest, let me rub your back and play with your hair. You deserve well rested sleep.”

“But what about you?”

“I have you back in my arms, that’s all that matters, I sleep better knowing you are…” he wasted no time into laying on your chest snuggling his head closer to your neck and his arm wrapping around your front. He sighs deeply when he feel you small hand guide up and down his back and then play with his har. “Goodnight Mason,” you kiss the top of his head.

“Goodnight beautiful. Sweet dreams.”

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount one shot #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount imagines #mm19

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floralseokjin · 1 year

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⤑ 9 months to fall in love 24.

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

pairing; kim seokjin x f reader au/genre; unplanned pregnancy, strangers to lovers, slow burn, romance (dare I say romcom in places), smut, angst, (melo)drama, dual pov words; 4,073

warnings/includes (!) honestly nothing but happiness

⟶ ao3 link

*inspired by the manhwa ‘Positively Yours.’

↪︎ series index

SEASON THREE ⇤ previous | epilogue ⇥

As soon as you held your daughter, you forgot the last twelve hours. The relief of no more pain, not another urge to push, no awful burning sensation – was immediate. But what was even stronger, was the relief that she was finally here. In your arms. Warm and soft. Small and fragile. Your vision blurred, but you blinked the tears away. Your heart felt like it was expending against your ribs. The love you already had for her impossibly doubling in strength. You couldn’t put a word on this feeling – you’d never felt it before. All you knew was that it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

You held her to you as gently as possible, not wanting to let her go, studying her as if this was your only chance. As if someone was going to come and take her away from you. Her mop of black hair, her squished, beautiful face. Eyes open, large and dark as she gazed blankly at her new, bewildering surroundings. She had no clue what was happening right now but that was okay. She had you to look after her. You brushed over her cute button nose, carefully skimmed her full rosebud lips – definitely taking after her dad there.

With that thought, you abruptly remembered where you were. It had only been a few moments since she’d been placed on your chest, but they had been enough to blank out everything and everyone. Seokjin. You looked up, seeing all of his attention on your daughter, gaze mystified. When you noticed a tear track down his cheek, you froze, momentarily caught off guard. You’d seen him sad, angry and overcome with emotion, but you’d never seen his tears. You reached for him with the arm that wasn’t supporting Sarang’s head and wiped the tear clinging to his chin. He blinked, your touch pulling him out of the trance he was under. Sniffing, a small, bashful smile appeared on his face as he wiped at his eyes. But he had nothing to be embarrassed about. He leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissed your clammy temple.

You were a mess. Your hair had fallen out of its ponytail, tendrils plastered to your face with sweat. Thinking about it now, you were exhausted – quite possibly delirious with it. You could barely recall giving birth but your aching body could.

“She’s here,” you whispered to him, watching as he ever so carefully stroked a thumb over Sarang’s round forehead, heart clenching.

“She is,” he whispered back, marvelling when she peered at him with fuzzy eyes. She might not be able to take things in right now, but she could hear his voice. Could she recognise it? “Hello, Sarang,” he said softly, stroking a finger over her chin.

“She’s perfect.” Your voice trembled with emotion and exhaustion.

“She’s beautiful,” he smiled, “just like you.”

Cradling Sarang’s tiny body with both hands, you moved forward as Seokjin leaned in to kiss your mouth, a hand holding the back of your head, the other touching your baby. “I love you,” you said.

He pressed a kiss to your nose while stroking your ear. “I love you. You’re amazing.”

The next couple of hours went by in a whirlwind.

You were encouraged to try breastfeeding immediately while Sarang was awake and alert, and delightfully, she took almost straight away. It didn’t last very long but she seemed content, her large eyes blinking slowly, already sleepy. From there, you passed the placenta and the umbilical cord was cut and clamped. They performed a physical on Sarang, (having her leave your arms was torture) and measured and weighed her. She was a pudding (an adorable one) at 8 pounds and 12 ounces – bigger than her father as a newborn by nearly half a pound! Still, it could have been worse. You didn’t need stiches! (“You have a sturdy vagina,” Yeonja would tell you a few hours later…)

After that, and while Sarang was clothed and asleep, you were checked over and afterwards your midwife helped you wash and freshen up while the bed covers were changed. Then, you and Seokjin were left in private, which meant you both just watched wondrously over Sarang’s cot. That was until you got tired, able to get an hour or two in before she woke and wanted to try feeding again. In that time, Seokjin shared the good news with everyone, showing them pictures he’d already started snapping.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon did you feel like having visitors. You didn’t exactly feel human again, but it was as good as it was going to get for now, and you had two sets of very eager parents, as well as a brother and sister who desperately wanted to see their baby niece before they had to take the train back for school tomorrow. And a Yuna. Don’t forget you had a Yuna. She didn’t know who to fuss over first – you or Sarang.

It was lovely to see everyone, but you found it hard to concentrate, most of your attention stolen by the beautiful daughter in your arms. And besides, you already preferred it just being you, Seokjin and your baby… In your own tiny, happy bubble. After months of waiting, you were finally a family.

The next morning, Seokjin left early (and reluctantly) to retrieve the car seat from the house. While he was there, he was going to take a shower too, so you were surprised when half hour later there was a knock at the door. Not only was it impossible for him to be back so quickly, but he also probably wouldn’t knock to come in.

It turned out to be your father. He and Yeonja had stayed an extra night at the hotel but needed to head back home earlier than expected today for work. Yeonja was grabbing them breakfast a couple of streets down, but she’d be here soon to say goodbye. He immediately made a beeline for Sarang’s cot and it was almost strange to see such a look of pure, unabashed affection on your father’s face as he gazed down at his granddaughter. Not in a bad way, it actually made you feel quite emotional – but then again so were most things right now. You’d almost cried when Seokjin kissed you goodbye.

“She’s beautiful just like her mom,” your dad said, smiling down at a sleeping Sarang.

You’d only just put her down after giving her a feed. Your first night as a mom hadn’t been so bad. Yes, you’d barely gotten any sleep, Sarang waking up every couple of hours for some tasty colostrum. But you liked it that way, finding yourself reassured everything was okay and that she was healthy. Plus, Seokjin was there to keep you company, looking on raptly as if he didn’t want to miss one single moment. You’d already started picking up on her cues, knowing she wanted to feed when she started sucking on her tiny fist and making soft murmuring noises that made your heart clench. That, or she’d let out fragile little cries until you reached for her.

“That’s what Seokjin said,” you laughed.

Your dad looked over at you, his smile turning lopsided. “The man’s smitten.”

You didn’t know whether he meant smitten with you or Sarang. Probably both, you told yourself, making you smile too. “You can hold her if you want,” you told him.

He shook his head. “She’s sleeping.”

“That’s okay. Go ahead.” By your estimations, she wouldn’t be for very long anyway.

Ever so carefully, your dad reached down, gathering Sarang up and making sure to support her head. Your daughter slept on peacefully. You were silent for a moment, watching him gaze down at her and realising this was his first time. Your murky brain recalled he hadn’t held her yesterday, letting everyone else get their fill while he watched on with a small smile on his face. Now, he was leaning in, pressing his nose against her soft black hair, taking in that baby smell you couldn’t get enough of.

“I remember when you were born,” he said eventually, voice more or less a whisper in case he woke Sarang. “I was too scared to touch you—to pick you up. You cried the hospital down the first time, which didn’t help. Hyesoo said I was just being silly. Well,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “that’s putting it nicely.”

You snorted softly. Knowing your mom, she wouldn’t have used the word ‘silly’ where your father was concerned. It was probably something a lot meaner. You didn’t know how to feel about that. Trying to imagine you and Seokjin having a relationship like your parents once had was impossible.

But mentioning your mom only made you miss her. She might not have been a perfect person, nobody was, but she was your mother and she had been perfect to you. She had loved you and you’d loved her. You still did, a love like that didn’t go away just because they had.

“I wish she was here right now,” you murmured, your throat dry. You wished she was here, period.

“I know, ____,” you father said sombrely. Then his mouth quirked into a slight smile. “She would be in her element. Your mom was a natural. She was born to be a mother.” He swallowed, staring down at Sarang hard. “I know it sounds corny, but she just… She loved you so fiercely.”

Becoming a mother made you understand that feeling completely. You already loved Sarang so much it felt like you might burst when you looked at her. When you thought of her. What you felt for her was a little intimidating. Maternal love was powerful. You swiped a tear from under your eye as your dad placed Sarang back in the cot, gazing at her still.

After a moment, he spoke again. “I’m so sorry.”

You knew what he was apologising for, and you didn’t want to hear it anymore. “It’s okay. Things are different now.”

“They are,” he agreed, looking over at you, giving you a small, determined nod. “I’m going to be there for Sarang always. Even if she says she doesn’t want it. Even if she doesn’t need it.”

“She’ll always need you, you’re her granddaddy.”

He stared at you, silent understanding passing between you both. He knew what you meant, what you were trying to tell him, just like you understood him. This was your second chance. He walked over and kissed the top of your head, surprising you. “Love you, kid.”

Those three words made you grin. He used to tell you that when you were young. You’d cherished them until they’d turned into something that had caused you inexplicable hurt. Now, they only felt good. They felt safe and warm and as truthful as he’d always meant them.

“I’m so proud of you, always have been,” he continued, voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too, dad.”

Once upon a time it had been hard to express your love to the people around you, but not anymore. It was getting easier each time.

As you waited for Yeonja to arrive, you realised something. Your father had been the first person to break your heart. All this time you’d thought it was Taehyung, but before that it had been your dad. He had left and you had blamed him, despite realising it was the right thing to do with age. Mistakes had been made on both ends, but now you had Sarang, and it was because of her you and your father could try again. For real this time. It was all you could ask for.

Sarang’s second night was nothing like her first. Maybe it was the change in setting, or maybe she was more aware of her surroundings by now, but it felt like she was up the entire night. When you tried to feed her, she started to struggle with latching on. Exhausted, you could feel yourself becoming more and more anxious, worried that there was something wrong because she’d been feeding well at the birth centre but now she seemed fussier. Seokjin tried to be your voice of reason, but you could tell he was concerned too. Being first time parents, you felt out of your depth. You tried to recall everything you’d learned at breast feeding class, but all you could really concentrate on were Sarang’s cries, the sounds distressing you to tears.

At 4am, at your wits’ end, you tried one more time and miraculously, after a few moments, you felt the gentle tugging sensation that told you she was feeding. So relieved, you stared down at her for the entire time, stroking her cheek and nose with the pad of your finger. When she was sated, you passed her over to Seokjin to burp, while you went to pee (and have a slight moment in the bathroom). When you came back, the sight that greeted you made you smile – even if it was an exhausted and emotional one. Seokjin had Sarang lying face down across his lap as he rubbed her back, supporting her chin with his hand, just like he’d been shown in one of the classes you’d attended. When he saw you, he shot you a proud, if not slightly scared, smile, as if to silently say: Look I’m doing it right – I think.

When you got back into bed, you held her to your chest again, the feel of your skin and body warmth lulling her to sleep. Seokjin was the one who placed her back inside her crib, because you had fallen half asleep, and thankfully, after that, you both managed to get a couple of hours in before Sarang woke hungry again.

The following nights were mostly a repeat of that, except Sarang no longer struggled with latching on. By then, your milk had started coming in and your breasts were fuller. Gradually Sarang was getting into a pattern, and you loved seeing her adorable little fist clutch on to you as she fed, her eyes drooping drowsily as she slowly fell asleep.

Your days weren’t filled with much difference. At first, you found it pointless getting out of bed, especially when you were trying to nap every time Sarang was, but you knew you couldn’t keep doing that. You needed some form of routine. But that was easier said than done when you felt as though you were in the middle of the world’s longest period and suffering from afterpains. To top it all off, a blood test confirmed that you were anaemic again, but gratefully, Seokjin made sure you were eating iron-rich foods regularly. He wasn’t just there for you physically, but emotionally too, offering you encouragement and reassurance every time you needed it. You really wouldn’t know what to do without him, and you made sure to tell him that often.

And not just him, but everyone else in your life helped in any way they could. Both sets of parents lived a short distance away, but they made sure to visit when they could, and one of Sarang’s first outings was to Seokjin’s parents’ home, where she met her uncle and aunt for the first time, as well as her very excitable cousins. Seeing Taeoh so happy to hold her, and with such care, made you tear up. If you thought being no longer pregnant would curb your emotions, you were wrong. If anything, you now cried even easier. Gone were the days when you seemed to only cry once a year. The floodgates were long broken.

Your friends were great too. Yuna was always popping around when she had the time, fussing over her ‘adorable, beautiful niece’ and spoiling her something rotten even though she was barely weeks old. Although, if you were being honest, you thought your daughter preferred Jimin. She was always so content when he held her – not that you would say that to Yuna! Hoseok and Kang were equally as smitten. As were Namjoon and Yeeun, and everyone else who visited from work.

Jungkook was the one who had fallen in love though. He was always calling himself Uncle Jungkook, and talking to her in one of those baby voices you were also guilty of doing. Only, when he did it, it made Haram practically swoon. One evening when he was visiting, Sarang let out the loudest fart in his arms.

“Kim Sarang,” he gasped, thoroughly scandalised.

“She gets that from her mother,” Seokjin said, sat next to Jungkook. He winced, then laughed when you whacked his arm.

“Does not!”

Another fart followed, only this one sounded wet and dangerous.

“Let me,” Seokjin said, stretching his arms out for her because Jungkook was looking more disgusted by the second. “I’ll go change her.”

“My pleasure,” Jungkook replied, looking as if he wanted to plug his nose.

As Seokjin made his way upstairs, you watched him with a smile. A) Rather him than you. Sarang might be small and cute, but her waste was not, but B) Watching him dote on Sarang was beautiful. He was a natural, truly. Just yesterday, you’d caught him singing some nonsense song to her complete with its own choreography. It would be a while until she started laughing, but once she did, you had no doubts Seokjin would be a pro at making her do so.

“Wanna stick around?” you asked Jungkook, taking the moment to sink back into the couch and let it try to absorb you. “You can witness a bath time? Sarang’s, not mine,” you added, earning a snot from him. “I think we’re ordering take out, too.”

Sarang’s cries jolted you from your sleep. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was 2am. Time for her second feed of the night. More than three hours of sleep in a row was now an unknown concept. You got out of bed with the ease of an expert, padding towards her cot. You’d swapped it for the wicker crib just last week. You wanted Sarang with you for a few months, not weeks like you’d previously thought. Your father’s hard work needed to be appreciated – and she needed to get used to it. Only thing was, she looked so tiny in just a giant thing, but that was a good thing, you reminded yourself.

It already felt like she was growing so fast, time soaring by; it made you emotional. (What didn’t?) Seeing her small in her cot reminded you she wasn’t even a month old. You had so much time left. But a little longer would be better. Always.

As soon as you took her in your arms, her cries quieted. Instead, she raised her tiny, wobbly fist to her mouth and began to suck hungrily. Okay, hint taken. You got into bed carefully, not wanting to rouse Seokjin. He had a habit of waking up with you, unless he was truly knocked out. You appreciated it, but he couldn’t keep it up. He would be back at work again soon. The realisation made you sad each time. You’d gotten used to being together day in day out, a unit that had made parenthood its bitch. You knew it couldn’t be the case forever, but it was yet another reminder that time was going too quick.

As if your thoughts had stirred him, Seokjin reached over to flick the lamp on just as Sarang latched on. He rolled on to his back and rubbed his eyes before stretching.

“Don’t,” you protested. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I needed the bathroom anyway,” he answered sleepily, getting out of bed.

When he came back a few minutes later, Sarang was mid-feed. “She’s really going to town,” he commented, climbing back in and sliding into the centre of the bed.

“Best milk in the neighbourhood,” you joked, mouth quirking into a sleepy smirk.

He chuckled, stroking through Sarang’s thick mop of hair, then along one chubby finger as her hand bobbed against your boob. You both sleepily watched her until she was finished, and even though most times she was back asleep in seconds once you’d burped her, tonight she was wide awake – eyes alert, looking around curiously as if she’d never seen this time of night before.

“Sarang, are you going to be difficult tonight?” you murmured, but there was no annoyance in your voice, just fatigue.

“Leave her here for a bit,” Seokjin suggested, moving over so you could place her between you.

You didn’t want to encourage this – gone two in the morning was not a time to be awake – but what could you do? If you put her back inside her cot now she’d only start to fuss and cry. Maybe some tummy rubs would lull her. Placing her down, she made a happy babbling noise, her arms moving up and down as if she was excited. Impossible…maybe. Or you could have one of the cleverest babies to exist…

“Just because you’re cute, doesn’t mean you can get your own way all the time,” you told her, brushing her cheek.

She was all softness and moreish smells. Seokjin pointed out a few days ago that she kind of smelled like fresh bread. You’d laughed at him at first, but thinking about it now, he wasn’t totally crazy. For you, it was more a sweet scent, milky. Definitely intoxicating.

She was addicting.

You’d never really contemplated motherhood, but now that Sarang was here, you couldn’t imagine life without her. Of course, it wasn’t always going to be this easy – it often wasn’t already – but you felt oddly prepared for anything. She gave you strength, made you feel invincible. Just for her. You wouldn’t let anybody hurt her, and if they did happen to slip past your defences, there’d be hell to pay. Seokjin was gazing at her as if he was thinking the exact same thing.

You felt a pang in your chest, an aching love. Sometimes you had these moments; the ones where you couldn’t believe that she was yours. You and Seokjin had made her. She was here because of you both. A fortuitous encounter that’d had lasting results.

You didn’t believe in kismet, had never given it much thought, but you did think you met Seokjin at just the right time, because Sarang was supposed to exist. You didn’t come together in the usual way people met and started a relationship, but that’s what made it special in your eyes. It was all down to Sarang that you were here now. She’d connected two people who might never have met again. Two people who were good for one another if given the opportunity to try. You were glad you’d both tried, because imagining a Seokjin-free life was impossible.

Feeling you close, Sarang bounced her chubby limbs again, making another noise as she turned her head and stared at you. These days her attention span seemed to last longer, and she took you in for multiple seconds. It was exciting, and even though you had mixed feelings about her growing too fast, you couldn’t wait until she could fully take in her surroundings, couldn’t wait until you could make her smile and laugh.

When Seokjin run his fingers over her round belly and then rubbed gently with the palm of his hand, her eyes scrunched up and she yawned, the slight rocking motion doing its job expertly.

“Should I sing you a lullaby,” he whispered, leaning in close to press a kiss to her hair. Hearing his voice and feeling his touch, she jerked her head towards him, giving him his own wide-eyed stare. “Mm? Would you like that, Sarang?”

“Please don’t,” you mock-groaned, letting your head fall on to your pillow. Your eyes closed momentarily, desperate for sleep.

“Hey.” Offended, but grinning, Seokjin reached over to stroke hair from your face. Your eyes fluttered closed again, eyelids too heavy to keep them open, and you felt him cup your cheek. “Go to sleep, ____. I’ll put her back down once she drops off.”

“You sure?” you mumbled.

“Very.”

Caressing your hair again, he pulled away. You sensed him take Sarang into his arms, and hearing her soft, content noises was like your very own lullaby. Happy and thankful, and feeling lucky, you were out before you knew it.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:9mtfil #floralseokjin:writings

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unhinged-nymph · 11 months

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So you're telling me that in the last MONTH alone we've gotten:

them bringing up 69ing in the nap video

several instances of "old married couple" and "i love you" in high profile interviews

rhett bringing up the fact that he has certainly NOT put link's dick in his mouth during the howie podcast

rhett bringing up that he overheard link having sex and then proceeded to have wild sex with his wife (his words not mine), and then the following night acknowledged that he was having sex in the same bed that Link did 24 hours prior and that it made them "closer" and that he wants to "return the favor" in the future

link not just sitting on rhett's lap but literally wedging his butt between rhett's thighs

rhett calling link daddy several times

some of those times being while link is bending him over a chair to spank him

them forcing the bit that their "outfits" were 69ing

and not to mention the abundance of longing stares and touches and all the other gay shit they normally do

edit: also forgot to include the merch with frog and toad and babalink??

how am i supposed to even begin to process this information ? literally what is going on lol

#also them watching their literal blossoming love story via all the throwback content they've been posting on the society #and them going to an event in fucking makeup #and i'm sure i'm missing a bunch of other stuff too #because there's simply TOO MUCH #i can't even keep up #it's a full time job keeping up with these queer ass antics #and don't even get me started on all the soft coming outs that link has done since gme #wild times over here in rhinkdom #personally i'm losing my fucking mind #but it's fun i guess lmaooo #rhink

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our-marvel-universe · 1 year

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IRL

Pairing: Jake Jensen x reader

Warnings: Non - just fluff

WC: 1.7k

Summary: You and Jake work together and you're really good friends…but you've never met IRL.

A03 Link

“So…” Missy looks at you raising an eyebrow

“So what?” you ask as you scroll through your inbox

“Next week is the big day, what are you going to wear!?”

You turn your head giving your friend your full attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your long distance work buddy. He starts Monday” your best friend smirks into her coffee cup as you shake your head in disbelief.

“No, no he doesn’t start for another 2 weeks!”

“Nope” she says, exaggerating the P, “Change of plans, they asked him to move up his start date so he would be settled in before all the upgrades next month. Which your boyfriend will be heading up.” Miss adds with a smirk. You’re in such shock you don’t even stop to correct her.

“Lucky for you, your best friend works in HR and can keep you in the loop about these things” Missy is smug as she gives you a wink but you don’t even notice your brain is moving a mile a minute trying to process all this information. He’s going to be here MONDAY. There is only 1 weekend standing between you and…

“Ohh” Missy says, dropping her voice down to a whisper “by the way I reviewed the policies and the two of you are good to go. You can bang as much as you want, although if you bang in the office try not to get caught, the paperwork will be a nightmare for me!”

“Oh my, Missy!” You say slapping her arm “cut it out. Seriously. Last thing I need is for him to think I’m some pervert before he even gets settled in!” You scoff.

Missy, naturally ignores your scolding and continues on her matchmaking mission for you and a certain IT associate.

“Do you think he’s cuter in person? I bet he’s cuter in person” She muses.

“Well I wouldn’t know. I don’t even know what he looks like.” You say trying to calm your internal turmoil.

“Oh I’m well aware I can’t believe you haven’t looked him up I mean you aren’t the slightest bit curious as to” You cut her off before she can finish that thought.

“I can’t believe he starts next week. More importantly I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!?” I mean why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Ohh come on, it’s understandable.” Missy says in an attempt to comfort you. I mean he is very busy with a cross country move. He probably forgot. Or figured you’d find out I mean” Missy says as she puts a hand on your shoulder. “The important thing is the guy you’ve been crushing on forever will be working a mere few feet away where you can drool over him in person. Think of how much more vivid your fantasies will be once you see him in person. You can tell a lot about a man from his walk you know.” She says wiggling her eyebrows.

You slap her hand off you and attempt to hold back your laugh, lest you encourage her. How someone with a mouth as filthy as hers ended up in HR you will never know.

Jake. Jake Jensen will be here in person with you in just a few days. You will finally get to lay eyes on the man you’ve been crushing on for the past 6 months.

You and Jake both worked for the same company, a startup based out of Boston. You work at the office although a lot of your coworkers work remotely from all over the country, including Jake.

You were first introduced to him 6 months ago when you were having technical problems and he helped you, virtually of course. When you called for help you were lucky enough to have him answer. From the moment you heard his voice you were completely enamored with him. The two of you immediately clicked and not too long after you found yourselves talking outside of work.

You and him have really gotten to know each other. What started as emails and slack messages eventually turned into texting and talking on the phone late into the night. As much as you liked him, you never brought it up, afraid of not only the “we work together” conundrum but there was also the we live 2,000 miles apart issue. So you let your feelings grow, but never bothered to say anything to him.

Then a month ago he told you the big news. He was relocating to Boston to be closer to his sister and her kids, which meant he’d be able to work right out of headquarters with you. When he first told you, your heart soared at the possibilities. Being able to see him talk to him face to face, the thought was too much. You are already so smitten with him! And it’s easy over text but…in person..you’re afraid you’ll freeze up.

Or worse what if he’s not how you imagined? You could have built up this amazing man in your head but what if the real one falls flat? Or worse what if he’s as great as you imagine but he doesn’t like you the way you like him. There are way too many variables. Maybe it would just be better if he stayed where he was!

But that is not an option. No matter what you want he is on his way here. Hell he’s probably already here in the city unpacking his stuff right now. Your heart picks up at the idea he may be near you.

It’s first thing Monday morning and your day is already awful. You changed outfits 6 times. Yes 6. 4 times last night and then twice more this morning. Despite the cute fit you are wearing you feel a wreck. You were tossing and turning all night, only to fall asleep only moments before your alarm went off. Then to make matters worse, you spilled your coffee, not on your outfit thank god, but still no coffee for you. You didn’t have time to stop for another cup since you were already cutting it close on time.

You are rushing into the building determined to not be late. You completely miss the handsome man in glasses at the front desk trying to check in.

Missy finds you in the break room attempting to make a cup of tea and is kind enough to let you vent over your terrible weekend and even worse morning.

“Seriously Missy, this day could not possibly get worse and it’s not even 930am. Maybe I should just call it and head home.” you sigh. “I don’t have any meetings scheduled today. I’ll just tell Carly I’m not feeling well and do the rest of my work from home”

"Do it. Take care of you…" You love Missy. She may be a little vulgar and definitely NSFW but she was always so supportive of you.

Firm in your decision. You’re headed back to your desk to write up a quick email to your boss and then head out.

Turning the corner you slam into what you assume to be a brick wall someone added to the office over the weekend, leading you to drop your drink and fall onto the ground.

You vaguely hear an “ohh God” through your haze as you try to not completely lose your shit. Looking down you take deep breaths through your nose as you push your tongue into the roof of your mouth in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

“Oh my god I am so sorry are you alright!?”

The person you bumped into crouches down in front of you and you are completely taken aback.

Turns out the man who made you drop your second beverage of the day was rather handsome and his beautiful blue eyes were trained right on you.

After triple checking you were ok the man you bumped into ran to get some napkins. He insisted on helping you clean up.

You’re sure he’ll be back in a moment but before he arrives you see Dave from HR walking towards you.

“Hey what happened here?”

“Ohh there was a bit of an accident. I bumped into someone but he’s going to get paper towels now.”

“Ohh man ok well I was just looking for, Ohh Jake there you are!”

You turn and see your mystery man walking towards you, paper towels in hand.

“Ohh, hey Dave, sorry I was headed down to find you but..” Jake tapers off while gesturing between you, him and your spill.

“It’s totally fine man. Take your time, no rush! Maybe once you two are done cleaning up and Jake is ready maybe you can show him back to my office?” Dave says, looking directly at you.

“Ughh yeah, sure” You reply. Your over tired and under caffeinated brain is trying to make sense of everything that’s happening. As you are slowly trying to make sense of things you turn to Jake and see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before he looks over at you.

“Guess I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Jake, Jake Jensen, IT. I mean I work in IT.” He says sticking out his hand for you to shake.

You can’t believe it, this is Jake your Jake and he is so handsome and…shaking your head you remember your manners. Shaking his hand you introduce yourself. Jake’s face lights up as soon as you say your name. The two of you stand there holding hands for longer than necessary before you recover and remember to separate.

You grabbed some paper towels from him and you both start to clean up.

“You know this is not how I envisioned our first meeting…” You confess.

“I know,” Jake replies “I didn’t think it’d be so easy to sweep you off your feet.”

You laugh out loud at his super lame pick up line. Although you have to admit that line along with that blush has you crushing even harder on your newest coworker.

A/N - what did you think of these 2? I have been toying around with this fic for a while and there could possibly be a part 2... leave a comment and let me know what you think!

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fluff #Jake Jensen fic #Kes Writes

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