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raspberry-dounut · 1 year

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hihi!! I saw adventure time on your fandoms list and was wondering if we could get anything about lee!simon? (once the curse is gone.) he's so silly and it would mean a lot

Nightmares

[TW: intense nightmares, references to PTSD, a& grief. And also, this is a tickle fic, so if this made its way into the main tags somehow, then I suggest you don’t read it if you’re not into that stuff XD]

Simon jolted awake, taking deep gasps of the cool night air in a shitty effort to stifle a scream. His heart was still pounding in his ears despite how quickly his breathing had returned to normal. It had been a nightmare, as it usually was, but this one felt different. He didn't want to remember it, but somehow he just couldn't shake it.

His heart sank into his stomach momentarily- he’d sworn he’d seen Betty, if just for a second.

“You guys… are still awake?” He was still a bit disoriented from his nightmare, but he thought he recognized those voices. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit barn, he could make out the shapes of Fionna and Cake, still awake and engaged in conversation.

“Well… yeah?” Fionna’s eyebrows furrowed as she awkwardly offered an answer.

“We wouldn’t expect you to understand, though. You’re old.” Cake chimed in with a shit-eating grin, completely endorsed in the game she had stolen from Fionna hours earlier.

“What were you dreaming about anyways?” She added, nonchalantly. “Getting it on with someone?”

The snide remark caught the older man a little off guard, as he found himself looking away to hide a deep red blush “Uhhh… I don’t really wanna talk about it, it’s- it’s private.”

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and the two of them exchanged a quick glance. It was clear something was bothering him, and neither of them were too keen on being left out of the loop.

“Suit yourself.” The cat shrugged.

“Was it a good dream or a bad one?" Fionna asked tentatively, her tone soft in a way Simon had never heard her use before. She was always the brash one, but something about the look in his eyes must have compelled her to be gentler.

“It’s— I don’t…” he started. All words seemed to fail Simon as he desperately searched for an answer

“it’s complicated.” Is what he settled on, trying in vein to hold off the weeping that usually followed after such intense dreams.

Fionna's eyes widened suddenly, but her expression quickly softened.

"Hey... it's okay. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," she said, taking a step towards him. His reaction to her and Cake's joking response told her everything she needed to know about how serious the dream must have been.

“No, I—“ he knew keeping secrets from his (begrudging) teammates was useless. It would only make things worse for the trio as a unit in the long run. So he tried- he tried despite his distraught to explain it.

“When you get older… you, uh… sometimes we- I… my fiancé and I—“

“Woah!” Cake snickered and hummed a tune that resembled something you’d hear in a low budget rom com during a particularly spicy scene. “I didn’t think someone as boring and mundane as you would have fiancé!!”

Fionna merely needed to cast a gaze over her shoulder and Cake knew to drop the subject.

“Cake! That’s not funny!” Fionna snapped, though she knew she was partly to blame. She was never one to have a filter, knowing full well that most of Cake’s current habits could be easily traced back to herself. “What were they like?”

“No, it’s okay. She… was wonderful.” he said, almost dreamily. There was a clear passion and affection in his voice for whoever this mysterious woman was. “I still remember what cake toppers Betty and I wanted for our wedding!! And—“

“Simon!”

“Hm?”

“You’re crying!”

"I am?" With little hesitation, he let his fingers connect to under his left eye. His fingertips made contact with warm water. It was a shock at first, but given that Fiona had called him out on his sudden eruption of tears, he didn't jump at that. Still, it was a shock nonetheless. Weakly, he muttered out in a croak after his mind realized he was tearing up. "Oh... I am."

“Um, maybe we can ask big hunky Finn for some water? Or like, an extra blanket?” Fionna offered, racking her brain for a solution. Comforting someone who had clearly undergone some intense trauma wasn’t something in her toolbox- let alone said person being older in age.

Fionna attempted to wipe the tears away from Simon’s face, desperate to clear away his sadness and provide some comfort in a moment of pain. But the tears were streaming down his cheeks too rapidly, making it impossible for her to keep up with them. Despite her repeated efforts, his tears continued to fall, each one slipping past her fingertips and adding to the pool gathering in the crease of his chin.

“No, no it’s okay really… I think we’re overstaying our welcome, anyways.” He offered her a small smile- one that was cheaply sewn together with what little sanity he had left in his grief.

All she could do was look at him with concern. The years that had gone by showed in his features, bringing a deep sorrow with them. The events of his life were like a war zone within his eyes, the tears that stained them telling her the story of his pain.

“Oh! Hey!” Cake’s face lit up as the lightbulb went off in her head, evident in the face she made “you humans like to be pet too, right? You evolved from monkeys, yeah? So there you go!”

“Uhhh…” It was awkward- that was for sure. He often found himself forgetting that, as far as Cake was aware, all she’d ever known was the life of a domesticated pet. An animal companion that was doomed to tight collars and comedic holiday costumes, stuck within the confines of an apartment.

“Umm… n-no thanks, I’ll pass. I think I’m—“

A weight hit his lap, and Simon flinched halfway between a startle and being winded by the force, proving to him once again how old he truly was. Turning to glare at the source he found Cake sitting squarely in his lap. Simon looked down at the cat, completely confused and slightly annoyed. He was still a bit jittery from his nightmare- and her sudden self-invitation into his lap caught him heavily off guard.

“Humans don’t work that way- I mean, at least the humans in my time don’t...” He laughed a little, though it was exasperated one that held no humour, as he was once again reminded of the differences between the world he knew, and the one he was living in. “Our nerves are a lot different than yoURS—“

“Wahahahait!!” His attempted explanation fell on deaf ears as Cake had already taken matters into her own paws. When he instinctively jerked back, she swore he was an expert at exaggerating his reactions- being stroked was a clear sign of endearment to someone like her, and he’d ought to be glad she was showing him such appreciation.

“C’mon, I’m not hurting you!” Judging by the accusing glare he gave and the slightly different tinge of honey-coloured skin beneath his eyes. He was fine.

“Y-You’re not hurting me!” His face crumpled, eyes closed and smiling, as he tried to get a hold of himself. “You’re tickling me! Stoohahahaaop!”

“The humans from your world are so melodramatic!” Cake shook her head.

“stahahahap— hahahaa!! Yohohou ahahahahaasshohohohole!!” He squirmed, giggling in spite of his frustrated facade, his legs kicking softly beneath her hold as Cake's paws worked their magic- Being sprawled out on the wooden floor of someone’s barn, whilst fighting a losing battle with a magical cat wasn’t the best look for him, and definitely wasn’t a one he could pull off.

When the feline struck a particularly sensitive spot, he nearly screamed; it was half way between someone who’d been startled, and someone who just realized how truly sensitive they were- knees bucking upwards instinctively and just about hitting cake in the chin; had it not been for her new luck of the draw abilities. Despite his pleas, both Fionna and Cake both took note of the fact that he didn’t do much to stop his playful attacker.

Cake didn’t listen- mostly out of spite that he’d nearly kicked her, but mostly because his body language didn’t appear to show discomfort. Tutting, she then used her leg to hold down his hips. Being of feline heritage, Cake knew firsthand how awful it was to have one’s personal bubble violated, and if Simon was truly as uneasy as he’d claimed, she would have backed off; spiteful or not.

Instead, she snickered and danced her fingertips up and down the antiquarian’s sides.

"Oh nohohoaaaahahahaa!! Oh m-my gohohohoad!!” Simon hadn’t laughed openly in so long- too long. The sound coming out of his mouth was so foreign to his own ears and he couldn't recall the last time he’d laughed at all. Let alone like this; unrestrained, loud, and so completely genuine.

“Alright alright! I’m done.” She announced in triumph once she had deduced that he’d had enough.

When Cake had finally let up, Simon took the opportunity to enjoy the air- missing its presence and sucking it greedily into his lungs. Each breath he took felt sweeter than the last and after getting his fill of air, he finally sat up again.

“Are you okay?” Fionna inquired, putting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled back at her- and for once, in what felt like years, he could say that he was at peace; if just for a little while. “Do you feel… at least a bit better?”

“Yeah, yeah- I’m okay.” He offered her an answer and the girl smiled in return. He was still a bit giggly from the sudden attack but this time there was no forcing it, no faking the joy- and she was content with that answer in the moment. “I’m okay.”

It wouldn’t cure him, no. But at least it offered him some sort of temporary peace. Something that would last twenty four hours, if he was lucky- and realistically; a break, no matter how small, was something he needed.

“Get some sleep- some proper sleep!” Fionna hissed, grinning.

“Because you’re old!” Cake added.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, the smile never leaving his face as he waved them off, speaking volumes on what he thought of their cheap jokes. He’d clearly eased up a little. They were right- he was feeling exhausted.

With a relaxed sigh, he settled back against the barn wall, closing his eyes and releasing a long breath as his muscles eased. His head began to tilt as he fought the urge to doze off momentarily, but soon the battle was lost and his chin rested against his chest.

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amyispxnk · 11 months

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Well you may not like it, but you better learn how.

A/N: Something small and random I came up with because Not Allowed started playing. Loosely inspired by it, but I don’t think this really aligns with the meaning behind the song after looking it up.

Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1661

Warnings: blowjob that lasts about 3 sentences, angst, mentions of blood and injuries, reader has bad thoughts, one pet name (sweetheart), low-key manipulativeness from joel

DO NOT COPY THIS IN ANY WAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU

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He groaned from above you, head tipping back as his hips bucked, pushing his length further down your throat.

“Just like that, fuck, keep doin’ that and I’m gonna come down your throat.”

You wanted him to. And he did, coming with a low growl of your name before he pulled out of your mouth with a pop.

You had looked up at him, hoping for something. Anything.

You got nothing.

He pulled you up after zipping up his jeans, murmuring a goodbye before walking out of the dingy room you called yours in the QZ.

No matter how much you tried, nothing changed. Joel was a harsh man, with a cold gaze and an even colder heart. Being on the receiving end of the latter was difficult to go through, or it was for you at least.

If you were stronger, maybe it wouldn’t affect you as much. If you were tougher, if you didn’t care as much, if you were better, maybe it wouldn’t affect you.

If you were better, maybe he’d like you.

So that’s what you strived to be. Every time he came over, you’d just do more and more, put more and more effort in, make yourself more and more uncomfortable. He didn’t even want to make you uncomfortable, he had that much courtesy, but you just did whatever he wanted by that point in your attempts to get something more from this relationship between the two of you. He never cracked though. The walls he had built up wouldn’t come tumbling down for you, you were just some girl. Another dumb girl who fucked him and let yourself fall for him too.

When this whole thing started you were just in it for the fun too. He was hot and was always down to fuck and he was trustworthy. That was the biggest part of it. You wanted someone you could trust, trust with your body and trust with your mind.

He had strictly stated that there would be ‘no feelings attached’ and you had agreed, not knowing how badly you’d fall for him so quickly.

Joel was a good enough guy, he listened when you felt shitty enough to ask him to, was gentle when you wanted him to be, and had common decency with you, but that was about it. He didn’t spend the night, gave you a rag or something at most to clean yourself up with before leaving, had not kissed you once, and didn’t talk about himself at all.

He probably didn’t care about you at all. He probably had a dozen other girls he would fuck. Maybe you were his worst one. Maybe he came to you when they were all too busy for him and only then. Maybe-

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. 3 quick knocks. That meant one thing- Joel.

You exhaled deeply before walking up to the door, opening it to be greeted with the sight of Joel, panting and covered in blood. Covered in blood.

“Joel, what the fuck?” You gasped at the sight of him.

“Let me in.” He demanded in a gruff tone. You stepped aside, shutting the door behind him as he sat down on the couch.

“Care to explain what the hell this is?” You said in a raised voice, mind racing as anxiety bubbled up to the surface, gesturing to the blood and cuts on his hands and face.

“‘s a fight. Jus’ needed some stuff from ya.” He responded, as if this was something that happened on the regular.

Firstly, you weren’t the kind of person to get into scraps and bar fights, barely leaving the QZ so you didn’t encounter infected either; secondly, Joel never came over unless it was to fuck. Never. Ever. So no, it wasn’t very regular to you.

“I- okay.” You wanted to ask him why he came to you at all, instead of just going back to his place, but maybe he actually wanted to see you? Wanted you to help bandage him up instead of him going back to his apartment and doing it himself?

You settled in front of him and started dabbing the cuts on his knuckles, still pondering the situation in your head. It was kind of a tender thing, something partners would do for eachother. Couples, even. The proximity was close and you could feel his stare burning through you as you tended to his wounds, wrapping his hand in a gauze before turning and reaching for some more supplies, then moving up to his face. You tilted his jaw to the side slightly and began to dab at the cut on the apple of his right cheek, wiping away the blood and covering it up with a bandaid. After you finished, you let your gaze linger on his features for a moment - patchy stubble dotted with bits of grey along his jaw, a hooked nose that had trailed down your body in moments of lust so many times, and soft, plump lips that you ached to kiss so badly it made your heart hurt.

He didn’t move, didn’t back away or anything- but he only didn’t because he didn’t realise you were finished. He was lost in thought, not about you, but about one of the many other things that plagued his mind. He didn’t even notice your face getting closer until your lips brushed against his, moving to seal the gap between them completely until he rose from the couch abruptly, nearly knocking you over in the process.

“The fuck are you doin’?” He spat, the tone of his voice making you wince. Had you interpreted the situation wrongly? Obviously, you had. You thought he was finally warming up to you, coming to you for aid, that he was finally ready to let you in. You really believed it when he let you get that close to him, let you get that close to his lips.

“I- I thought that you-”

“Whatever you thought, you thought wrong.” He cut you off, running a hand through his hair and looking away for a moment. “Jesus, woman, what the fuck are you thinking?” He snapped his head back towards you, your eyes now glossed over with tears waiting to burst forth.

But you didn’t get upset, you got angry.

You rose to your feet and threw the rag to the side.

“I thought that you might finally fucking like me, Joel!” You shouted.

He was still for a moment, before he let out a bitter laugh.

“Like you?” He repeated, in a tone he had never used with you before. It was bleeding with toxicity and maliciousness and it made your brows furrow even harder in pain.

“You are such a piece of- of shit! You come over all the damn time, and no matter what I do it’s always the same thing. You just leave without anything, you treat me like I’m worth nothing to you - and maybe I am, but this is just bullshit at this point. I know I’m not worth much, but I’ve come to realise that my standards are higher. I don’t want this, Joel. I don’t like whatever our relationship is, and if things don’t change, I’m fucking done.”

You were panting by the end of your little speech, pent-up emotions finally spilling out of you and he just watched. Watched you pour your heart out to him and reveal your true emotions to him, and he just watched.

Then he spoke.

“Listen to me, I don’t know if you think you’re some perfect angel on Earth or somethin’ who deserves only the best, but the truth is, you’re lucky to have me. You know how many bitches would get down on their knees for me like that?” He said with a snap of his fingers. “But I keep comin’ back to you. I could easily just go to one of them and leave you behind here. And maybe I will, after whatever the hell you just pulled.”

His words were the final blow, ripping your heart apart and throwing it on the ground, crushing it under its boot and practically fucking setting it ablaze.

You let out a slight sob before you could stop yourself.

“You’d leave me?” You whispered meekly.

His jaw clenched at the sight of you. Pathetic. That’s what he thought. Pathetic and pitiful. For him. You cared so much about him, but he wasn’t gonna let that happen. He did care about you, because you deserved care. That’s why he only fucked around with you, only really talked to you about things other than work, only did a lot of stuff with you. But he didn’t deserve care, he didn’t deserve love, and that’s why he got scared when things got too real. When you, a normal human being with emotion, started to like him, a monster of a person. You were too good for him and he didn’t want to mess around with love. Despite these somewhat softer thoughts, he didn’t crack, didn’t show you kindness or affection in this situation.

“Maybe I would.” He muttered, before stepping closer to you and tilting your jaw upwards to face him.

“If you don’t like our relationship, I’ll gladly fuck off. But I think- I think it’s best you learn how to, sweetheart, because I’m the best you’ll ever get.”

You took in his words. And he was probably right. You would never get anything better, you’d probably never get anything at all if he left you.

So you nodded slowly, apologising to him for spilling your emotions and reading into it too much, apologised for trying to kiss him and for thinking he liked you.

“I’ll see you.” Was all he said before he left, no words of reassurance or an ‘it’s okay’ at all. But that was okay. That’s how it was and how it would always be for the two of you.

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Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open! 💞

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #the last of us #tlou hbo #joel miller hbo #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #amyispxnk fics

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rickytickychow · 3 months

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I don't even have words for Apology Tour, it was such a great follow-up (types so many words)

idk if Stolas understands how Out Of Nowhere this whole crystal thing was for Blitz. Like sure, it had been a few months, but Blitz was truly expecting a "same as always" kind of affair, misread Stolas's advances and got shut down and shut out the MINUTE he made that mistake. Stolas's little "thank you" speech was visibly genuinely confusing and horrifying to Blitz.

And then (AS BLITZ EXPECTED!!) the prince who supposedly loves him soooooo much walks away after ONE MISTAKE.

Also Stolas, annoyingly enough for Blitz, will never understand why Blitz feels looked down on and mistrusting until he acknowledges his objective place in hell's society. Stolas has never felt like he looks down on or demeans Blitz because he truly put the guy on a pedestal for so long. Now he's assuming that because Blitz didn't respond to his love confession mutually, Blitz didn't actually mean any of it. Bc God forbid your grand romantic gesture out of nowhere doesn't make the other person sweep you into their arms.

The amount of exes at Blitz's party shows how little patience he truly has for relationships despite trying to connect to others, but it's also showing us how much contempt and impatience people really do show him. Objectively, Blitz knows he's a difficult person. He doesn't know how to navigate his OWN feelings, much less someone else's. It's soooo funny to me how he does indeed end up at the "I hate Blitzø" party.

ALSO????

"I don't think you meant to hurt me, cuz I don't think it meant a thing at all"????? STOLAS DID YOU SEE ALL THE BULLSHIT HE DID FOR YOU I THINK IT MEANT SOMETHING TO HIM IDK

Blitz is not someone who does things he doesn't want to. He may have been hasty agreeing to the full moon deal, but he VERY CLEARLY enjoyed it and didn't want it to just... End.

And the Striker thing was also a low blow on Stolas's part. Moxxie and Millie saved his ass, taking BLITZ'S van after he already explained that Loona had an appointment that COULD NOT be missed. I can't imagine Blitz enjoys being in any given hospital longer than he has to. But despite the audience knowing what affects these things, Stolas does not.

This is kinda disjointed but while I feel bad for them both idk. I feel worse for Blitz bc Stolas has every opportunity to get better once he heals his emotional pain. Every Single one. He's still dealing with the divorce and moving sure, but he's a prince with magic, resources, and as Blitz pointed out, a nearly immortal body.

Blitz has all this inner turmoil and... None of that security. He has more to lose by letting people in. He's had to claw, fight, and drag himself for everything he currently has. It's hard for him to apologize because honestly? None of his actions are excused by this fact whatsoever, but he's owed a lot of apologies from people over the years, too. When he says "they're for pussies and no one deserves them anyway," I don't think he's just bitter about giving them. I think he's bitter about the idea of receiving them. Wanting someone to apologize means admitting they can hurt you. Blitz is well aware he can and has hurt others, but loath to admit when he is hurt.

For all his talk about not thinking Stolas can get hurt, Blitz is the one who actually acts like he's infallible - that makes others expect more from Blitz, but he will take them being angry at him over being perceived as weak or pitiable.

Stolas lovvvvves being weak and pitiable because he was expected to grow up quick, and the tragedy of that doesn't excuse his part here either. Anyone can agree that his attitude toward Blitz has taken a complete 180, with no visible effort to see things from Blitz's perspective. Sure, Blitz has been an angry asshole about it, but people seem to think that not showing anger makes whatever shitty behavior they choose automatically better. It doesn't.

I can't wait to see more about Blitz and Verosika too. It was really eye-opening for both Blitz and the audience to see that side of her. There's probably more to their breakup than her saying "I love you," but that being the catalyst for Blitz up and leaving is the WORST. That had to hurt, and even if he just felt unworthy/unable to say it back right away, Blitz should feel bad about just running away.

Since he plays things so close to his chest and acts aggressive, it's easy for everyone around Blitz to overlook any selfless actions and label him as angry and selfish. It's pretty heartbreaking how his relationship to the world and his trauma responses make him lean into the idea that he's a terrible person.

TLDR GREAT EPISODE WHOA these emotional disasters warm my heart (with rage ❤️). Welcome back Verosika lmao

#apology tour spoilers #helluva boss #stolitz #disaster bitches part 947382 #disjointed initial thoughts yay

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protodot · 2 years

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As shitty as AI models using stolen art for training data with the goal of tricking TikTok kids into giving them their faces is, I feel like there's a whole other side to the anti AI argument that's really poorly thought out, specifically the idea that it'll render human artists obsolete.

The crux of the issue there is that many people rely on making art to make a living, and AI art threatens this way of life by replacing the artists with algorithms. The former is absolutely true, but the latter in my opinion is just fearmongering. A number of jobs have been attempted to be automated before, like factory workers, fast food cooks, and developers more recently. However, all of these efforts have suffered from at least 1 of 2 problems:

1. The method of automation is expensive to the point where even hiring employees at actually reasonable rates is more cost effective, or 2. The method is either obviously a pale imitation of what an actual person can do, or requires manual intervention to get something usable, sometimes both.

These AI image generation models severely suffer from the 2nd issue, the best case scenario often being something that only looks fine to the uninitiated (compared to the genuinely amazing pieces human artists can make) and the worst case being a slightly unexpected input (like poc or a ferret, apparently) causing the model to spit out eldritch horrors.

While these issues could possibly be resolved, that would mean the kind of people who even want AI art in the first place actually making an effort to improve the tech, and it's pretty clear to me that all the current models are just funded by lazy capitalists looking for a quick buck. They're not gonna pay anyone to make art of poc or various pets when that does nothing to serve the goal behind making these models in the first place.

To summarize, the chances of someone quickly generating AI art instead of paying for commissions is pretty low, as I believe the average commissioners are people who care too much about art to leave the job to some machine that would never be capable of creating anything with anywhere near the same level of quality.

#art #ai art #discourse #i might be wrong but noone can correct me on opinions i never express so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years

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Game of Thrones - 39 EDDARD X (pages 409-415)

Ned wakes from his week long medically induced coma to find King Bobby B has rejected Ned's resignation, and Cersei is pissed about the state of their family feud.

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood. ... Ned had known their faces as well as he knew his own once, but the years leech a man's memories, even those he vowed never to forget. In the dream they were only shadows, grey wraiths on horses made of mist. ... He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light. ... A storm of rose petals blew across the blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death.

I am loving the colour imagery in this chapter, straight up slaps. Now, the blue as the eyes of death, that's winter roses are blue and strongly associated with Lyanna, but also the eyes of the Others and their Wights are blue is that a link? or a coincidence? And when they say milkglass, do they just mean the low grade opaque-translucent glass or is this another name for milky quartz?

... I should maybe get myself some of the additional lore books...

Ned had pulled the tower down afterward, and used its bloody stones to build eight cairns upon the ridge. It was said that Rhaegar had named that place the tower of joy, but for Ned it was a bitter memory. They had been seven against three, yet only two had lived to ride away; Eddard Stark himself and the little crannogman, Howland Reed. He did not think it omened well that he should dream that dream again after so many years.

Oh buddy, it really doesn't. So like, two things: 1. how shit was the tower's construction that two men could pull it down, I'm getting the vibe it was not as seen on tv, that would have been just a lot of effort with the tools they had to hand. 2. Ned's 7 + 3 kingsguard + Lyanna is 11 - 2 survivors is 9 why are there only 8 - OH RIGHT! Lyanna's body is in Winterfell's crypts, they took her body home. ... they really never went back for the others? well, okay then.

"Keep the king's peace, you say. Is this how you keep my peace, Ned? Seven men are dead..." "Eight," the queen corrected. "Tregar died this morning, of the blow Lord Stark gave him."

Oh look, eight dead men then and now, hahaha... does not omen well indeed.

Purple with rage, the king lashed out, a vicious backhand blow to the side of the head. She stumbled against the table and fell hard, yet Cersei Lannister did not cry out.

Hey, quick reminder? As horrible as Cersei is and was, for all the horrific things she did, she shares a narrative thread with Sansa and Dany. Cersei is a potential end of Sansa and Dany's threads, the Toxic Ending wherein the abuse and dehumanization (for being a woman, for being the wrong woman) have rotten inside her, but she was a victim once too.

Does that excuse the shitty things she did? No, those were still choices she made, and given how young she and Jaime started, there's probably always been something messed up in her Love Map, and given how she treated Tyrion in their youth, she's likely always had a mean streak. I just wanted to point out how thoroughly this world is screwing over the maximum number of people At All Times.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #ned stark #eddard stark #a chapter a day reading #got

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backwaterscum · 2 months

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mary graham wonders if it could be considered stalking, waiting outside the dixon house. she's trying not to put too much thought into it and instead, keeps her eyes tailored on the stars. making shapes out of them. thinking of what she'll tell daryl when it's finally time. she knows the household can be unpredictable, has even tried to temper her hopes and expectations for a reality in which she can't steal him away. there's noises, there's shouting, there's lights on, but eventually...

it all dies down. she gives it another thirty minutes, maybe even longer. checks her watches, worries, waits for some time longer and then checks it again. the last thing she wants is to get daryl in trouble— but that's not entirely true, is it? she'll risk it if it means he'll come with her. she'd only ask this of him tonight. they only have a week left and of every move she's gone through, this one puts a knot in her stomach like none of them have before. desperate to put feelings into actions, to get back to daryl's company where the thoughts in her head matter far less, she approaches the home, quiet and low in the shadows.

only to pelt his window with pebbles. the good news is, if merle's the one to catch her, at least he'd probably encourage daryl running off with her. but thankfully, it's daryl. she lights up when she sees him, her curls loose tonight and framing her face. she's fifteen years old and the summer air is a heavy blanket on this little town.

"hey," there's mischief in her eyes, and her voice is as hushed as ever as she stands outside his window, leaning close. "i know i shouldn't have—..." that's her half hearted attempt at an apology. mary's never done very well with guilt. "come with me." she's not usually prone to spontaneity like this, but something has her itching to make memories tonight. "come swimming with me, i found this spot on the bank..." it's just another sandy spot on just another stretch of river with just another view of the stars. he's probably seen it before, but she would bet that he hasn't swam at it. not with her. it'll be perfect.

The moment he heard those pebbles, Daryl was quick about strapping his knife to his leg and pulling his pack up from the floor. When he pushes his window open, the straps of his backpack are already on his shoulders; his crossbow is left behind, but he's sure he won't need it. Not when Mary's come to him at such a terrible hour of the evening (and he could ask, maybe, how long she must have been waiting for Daddy to be done with him, but he knows the answer to that by now).

Even in the relative darkness of nightfall, Mary looks like something ethereal, something outside the small radius of what Daryl believes is his world. The moonlight reflects off of her hair in a way that evokes the image of halos; angel or not, though, Daryl would follow her anywhere.

Does follow her, when she tells him to come. He's already propped himself up on the windowsill when she tells him they'll be going swimming, and it doesn't take much effort at all to swing himself past the threshold and land on the grass before her.

His window is closed very, very carefully, with a small gap left only so Daryl can sneak back in later (nobody else goes to this shitty little part of the neighbourhood, anyway). Then, without hesitation, he takes Mary's hand so she can take him away, meeting her gaze and saying, "Show me."

As they walk, it smarts where his daddy hit him: on the back, on his arms. But it doesn't matter nearly as much as crossing the boundary between the forest and his home. They're surrounded by trees and instantly Daryl feels relief-- relief to be out of the moonlight, relief to be in the forest, relief to be in it with Mary by his side.

Daryl could find this place with his eyes closed, he's sure. And though he knows where they must be going, it had been her idea. There's significance in allowing her to lead him. There's warmth in knowing she's the hero who takes the lonely princess away from the tower.

"Sorry," he murmurs, bumping her arm lightly with his own (he's become taller than her, he realises), "if you had to wait long."

#[ i listened to right here right now from hsm3 for this. i need to tell you this bc obviously. ]#shilohgreen #thread.#au: normie reedus.#abuse cw

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glowyjellyfish · 2 years

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OUAT Rewatch Report Part 4: An Apple Red as Blood through We Are Both, plus Down the Rabbit Hole and Trust Me:

1. ugh poor August. He may have brought it on himself, but he definitely got a shitty deal to begin with—asking a seven year old to protect a baby in a strange world? And somehow magic functions enough to change him back to wood if he fails, but not enough for him to be a living puppet man? Raw deal. Nobody deserves to turn into bad CG and then deaged to conform to an easy happy ending.

2. loooove Mary Margaret’s Mom lecture when she calls Emma out for abducting Henry and abandoning everyone else.

3. Regina really cares about Henry more than the curse at this point. She needed the curse to maintain the life she built, but I do feel like at least half the season she was fighting much more for Henry than for the curse. I suspect that the pilot was set up intending her to be more irredeemable and incapable of love, but Lana Parilla’s performance changed that pretty quick.

4. again I’m confused by the fairies’ involvement in storming the castle. Really, we’re given no reasons why the fairies do anything. So, my theory is that Blue was aware that Rumple made the curse Regina was planning to cast, but not that he was also giving help to Snow and Charming. And she believed that in helping oppose the Evil Queen, they were fighting the Dark One. And I have now formulated a whole theory. It’s not really about good or evil to the fairies, that’s mostly PR. It’s about control over the use of magic. They’ve got a whole industry going, they don’t want freelancers popping up taking their business. They want to control who gets magic solutions and why, they want to control what price is paid, and they behave the way they do for good PR so that people will prefer and trust them. There doesn’t have to be any deeper agenda than that. Blue offers personal support to people whose trust she can gain and fates she can shape. And she offers support to people when her help will mean thwarting or destroying alternate magic users (ie, trying to get Bae to go with Rumple to the land without magic). She definitely seems very invested in eliminating the Dark One.

5. YAY NEAL I’m so excited to see him. I love how his apartment mirrors his father’s homes with his collection of Things. Also love how he has clearly been working hard to do better in the last 10 years. so who sent him the postcard by pigeon? I can’t remember if we’re ever informed about that, but it pretty much has to be August, right? Rumple wouldn’t be so bold and cryptic, and he doesn’t know where Bae is yet, and nobody else would know to alert Neal. Sending an extremely cryptic message is right up August’s alley, at least. I’ll see if the show explains it.

6. I had a whole timeline figured out based on OUATW beginning right after the curse is broken, and I’m trying to figure out whether that is actually correct. Certainly, it either starts during Broken or after the first half of s2 is done—somebody has to be driving Emma’s car around—and the storm at the beginning could be the Wraith attack. On the other hand, Will, Ashley, and Leroy do not act the way anybody acts right after the curse is broken. Will is understandable, he is barely capable of giving a shit about anything without really putting effort into it right now, but Ashley and Leroy? Just being at Granny’s like nothing is wrong? On the other other hand, if OUATW starts later that means Will managed to 100% lay low for the first couple weeks or so after the curse was broken. Not impossible at all, and obviously when s2 was written Will didn’t exist yet so it’s not that big a deal, but… if memory serves, later on when he’s on regular OUAT nobody knows who he is who didn’t know him before the curse? Could he really have never gotten arrested or otherwise made a nuisance of himself and stayed out of trouble for two weeks or however long s2a is, spending his time talking to Jefferson and throwing darts at a picture of Ana? Maybe. I’ll keep watching for timeline clues. I do suspect I am putting more thought into this than the writers did. I am beginning to doubt that this was the best viewing pattern either way. Might be better in the future to complete s2 or the first half of s2 and then watch all of Wonderland. However, even though it wasn’t designed this way, the parallels in watching the episodes interspersed like this are interesting: at the same time Storybrooke is freaking out about their lack of portals, Will just waltzed off into one with the Rabbit. Alice and Will visited Jefferson’s abandoned house, and then Charming tracks him down in Storybrooke. Cora is revealed to be in Fairy Tale Land, and Ana talks about taking over Wonderland. Very interesting.

7. I really enjoy that Dr. whale is just constantly hanging around slightly in the background of the episodes in this session. His big moment of leading an angry mob to confront Regina because that’s how his world deals with this sort of thing was great of course, but I just like how he’s right there when the curse is broken, and shown being distraught, and he’s constantly visible at the front of the groups of people demanding solutions from Charming. I mean, he knows damn well why he was cursed, and even worse than finding out he was cursed and being bombarded with the memories of a. his tragic life and b. that his real self is practically a joke in this world—even worse would be watching everyone else recognize one another and realizing he’s another world removed from the community here. Not surprising that he’s more upset than most, and that he wouldn’t want to talk about it, and that he’d leap to extreme solutions to try to get home (in a few episodes that is).

8. Regina’s redemption begins in earnest here, and I think they did a wonderful job of showing her abusive past and how she continued the cycle without intending to. What bugs me about her redemption arc is that I don’t recall her ever feeling bad or making up for things she did to anyone but Henry. Maybe some of the other main characters. It’s not that they did a bad job with her feelings or characterization, but redemption doesn’t ring true to me if she’s only doing it to please the one person she cares about, and then gets rewarded before she has to put in the hard work. That’s just how I remember it, though. I’ll keep my eyes open. Also, the term wasn’t as heavily used as it is now, but I’m glad the show made it clear that Regina gaslit Henry. I do believe she was doing her best and does love him and was never nearly as abusive as her mother… but she was still emotionally abusive to him, even if she was otherwise a perfect mother.

9. I kind of love Charming struggling to be in charge and maintain order, and really wish we had gotten a lot more episodes of how the town stays functional and solves its problems while the adventure team is out adventuring. Maybe I’m forgetting something.

10. why does Jefferson know that the Enchanted Forest still exists? I guess there’s just… a class of magic people that are portal jumpers, and they have knowledge of other worlds and their magic expresses itself in a specialized way of traveling between worlds that’s different for each one? And for Jefferson, it wasn’t just any hat he made, but this one specific hat that needs ambient magic to function and is able to work separate from him? I don’t think the show ever gives any more explanation than what Jefferson has said so far, so this theory’s as good as any. Maybe he can make a new one only if his old one is destroyed, so he lost his mind trying and couldn’t succeed even in Wonderland because Regina still had his original hat?

Today’s gif selection will be describing Regina, because although I had less trouble finding gifs for each episode I had a good collection for her and she deserves acknowledgement. I’ll probably amass more over time, god knows I’ve already found a few more for Rumple.

#ouat

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saetoru · 2 years

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TEE TEE I AM GOING TO YELL ABOUT RICH BOYS IN YOUR INBOX BECAUSE THEY HAVE A FUCKING DEATH GRIP ON ME 😟 quick warning bc I ramble LMAO

okay, so first of all, gojo satoru… I feel like when he was younger, he would buy a ton of really expensive shit purely because it was from a designer brand. like, it could be the ugliest fucking thing ever, but he would still buy it just because he could LMFAO 😭 he definitely had a ton of really ugly but expensive shoes… he looks like he would. he probably didn’t even wear them all 😔

thankfully, as he grew a little bit older, he stopped doing that and started buying things that ACTUALLY looked good. (only exception is those fugly rectangular sunglasses 😦 what on earth. I bet that bitch wears them just to piss people off smh. by people I mean me ☝️) even though they’re still really fucking expensive, it’s still a good upgrade from his childhood PFFT

his mama is glad, and so am I 🙏

I also wanted to talk about how gojo and getou are. they’re similar, meaning you don’t really have to put in a lot of effort to find out that they’re rich. gojo is the kind of guy who clearly flaunts his wealth in the most obnoxious way possible, but at the same time it’s not just the things he buys that makes him seem rich. You can see it in the way he carries himself. the best way I can explain it is like this; gojo is like a peacock. he likes to show off his feathers, but he’s already so naturally beautiful that people are already looking??? he just looks grand, if you know what I mean. he’s almost always got that air of confidence and superiority surrounding him that it can make you wanna BEAT HIS ASS UP 🤬🤬 but he’s also weirdly endearing :( he’s loud asf but we already know that LOL

AND when I said that getou is similar, I meant that he also just feels rich. he’s what you would expect someone from a high status family to be like tbh. he’s polite, respectful and is just all around elegant?? but he’s also kind of simple if you get what I mean. think of him as a swan — they’re plain, but everyone sees them as this really elegant and graceful creature. they also bite. hard. holy fuck. he’s a lot more subtle. even though he’s definitely intimidating and looks like a delinquent (😭), his actions show otherwise.

so, honestly to simplify what I’m saying, rich bitched getou and gojo are different sides of the same coin. both rich, but one formal and the other informal.

im kind of annoyed because there’s so much I want to say but I literally can’t articulate any of it properly. that’s my bad. but I can’t believe you’re not a mind reader smh how dare you 😡 I NEEDED TO WORD VOMIT SO BAD EHEHENR THANKS FOR READING IF YOU DID u are my lord and saviour ily 😸 BYE MWAH MWAH

I went from talking about how shitty satoru’s taste was to analysing rich boys getou and gojo wtf. what happened

CRYINF THIS WAS SO FUN TO READ BESTIE FKWKFKR OMG i love the rich boy! au so much

gojo definitely had a HORRID fashion taste LMAO like he’s grown to be a bit better after ppl have told him over the years 🥲 but i just feel like gojo naturally has an awful sense of coordinating outfits 😭 geto in contrast is so simple like u said and elegant like he wears a simple white shirt but it’s ✨fancy™️✨ jfjsjfjs

GOJO IS THE OBNOXIOUS TRUST FUND AND BOASTFUL RICH BOY and then there’s his best friend geto who’s sweet and humble and he helps people get around campus with a sweet smile and a little wave and gojo’s just like “oh are new here ??” with a horrendous smirk and he’s so gosh darn annoying omg djrksjfj

i feel like rich boy gojo has a good relationship with him mom he’s a mommas boy for sure but him and his dad have a rough relationship that’s why he’s so attention seeking and also rebellious low key LMAO he wants to piss his dad off at every chance and do things the opposite way but he also just wants to be acknowledged u know. and then geto’s just a sweet lil boy who minds his business probably has polite convos with his moms friends while they have tea he’s like their favorite little golden boy they all want their daughters to be his wife ndnfskjfd god i could go on i rly do love this rich boy au sobs

TY FOR SCREAMING ABOUT IT W ME UR WELCOME TO ANY TIME I LOVE HEARING UR THOUGHTS i’m sorry this took me a bit to reply to !!

#💌 — teemail.#♡ — no return address.#rich boy! gojo #rich boy! geto

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asweetprologue · 3 years

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Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it and/or friends with benefits falling in love <3 geraskier or jaskier/other wolf if you'd like a challenge

I got #2 twice, so I decided to combo these for you and @a-kind-of-merry-war. Hope you guys like soft af smut!!

Explicit below the cut!

36. Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings AND

2. Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it

Geralt freezes as soon as he steps into their shared room. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, and then says, “Is that mine?”

Jaskier looks up from his seated position on the bed, propped up by the flimsy pillow the inn had provided, folded in half. He freezes himself, his pen poised above the page of his notebook, and looks between it and Geralt a few times. “What? The book?”

Geralt shakes his head as he steps into the room, allowing the door to fall shut behind him. Jaskier feels something hot unfurl in his gut at the dark look in Geralt’s eyes. It’s a look he’s gotten to know quite well recently, and it’s usually a precursor to good things. Geralt steps up to the bed and sets one knee beside him, and Jaskier’s heart rate spikes embarrassingly.

Geralt reaches out two fingers and slips them under the hem of the shirt Jaskier’s wearing. The dark fabric is soft with age, billowing around Jaskier’s form and falling loose about his shoulders. “My shirt,” Geralt says, and his voice is warm with something that Jaskier can’t identify.

Jaskier shivers. “Sorry,” he stutters, setting his notebook aside on the frail bedside table. “I, uh, my shirts are all in the wash, I can change into something else--”

Geralt pushes forward, his nose suddenly tucked into the hollow of Jaskier’s throat, where the collar of the shirt meets his skin. “Mm,” Geralt says, “don’t. You smell good. Fuck.” And then he bites lightly at Jaskier’s collarbone, and Jaskier is suddenly desperate to get the shirt off for a whole different reason.

They’ve been doing this for a while now.

Jaskier isn’t even sure anymore how it started. One moment you’re pining desperately after your best friend, and the next you’re - well, still pining, if he’s being honest. But now he’s pining while also having the best sex of his life on a regular basis. He’s not sure if it’s better.

It’s hard, is the thing. To sleep with your best friend, in the first place, much less sleep with your best friend who you’ve been in love with for the last ten odd years. Jaskier has to stop himself from reading into things, from seeing layers that aren’t there. When Geralt wraps his arm around Jaskier after they’ve finished, snuffling sleepily into his hair, or when he presses tender kisses to the bruises he left the night before, or when he looks at Jaskier across the campfire with something soft and burning in his eyes - none of it means anything. Geralt cares about him, Jaskier knows this, but they’re just friends who fuck each other sometimes. If Geralt had wanted more, he would have said, oh, anytime in the last decade and a half. Jaskier refuses to make a fool of himself believing otherwise.

But it’s hard. He wants Geralt constantly, a feeling that has only grown worse with each encounter, but every quick fuck just leaves him feeling achy and empty inside, no matter how blissfully good it is in the moment. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t even care about the sex that much. It’s amazing - of course it’s amazing, Geralt is practically a god, and he’s got stamina - but Jaskier would trade it in an instant just for the knowledge that his feelings are even partially returned. Being so close to having what he wants, sharing intimate moments when their bodies are pressed tight together and singing with pleasure, only brings what he lacks into sharp relief.

Like now, with Geralt pushing him back into the shitty pillow and straddling his hips, dragging his unfairly large hands up Jaskier’s sides as he moves in to kiss him. Jaskier meets him halfway, immediately letting Geralt lick into his mouth and turn the kiss into something wet and needy. Geralt pulls away after not nearly long enough and starts biting kisses down Jaskier’s throat, sucking hard enough at one point that Jaskier can’t help how his hips thrust up against Geralt’s ass. Geralt makes a pleased sound against his jaw, a low rumble that has Jaskier squirming.

“Come on,” he pants, turning his head to try and recapture Geralt’s mouth. Geralt is uncooperative, so it lands somewhere near his temple instead. He’s still tucked into Jaskier’s shoulder, and Jaskier can feel him inhale deeply. “Are you-- Are you smelling me?”

Geralt hums an affirmative, taking another drag. Jaskier just blinks up at the timber ceiling of the inn, floored. After a moment Geralt says, “You smell good.”

Jaskier doesn’t know what to say to that, and Geralt doesn’t give him time to think about it. He pulls back, finally, and uses the hands still tucked under the shirt to ruck it up, his mouth falling on Jaskier’s left pectoral. Jaskier grabs the hem, fully intending to lift it over his head while Geralt is distracted, but a hand on his wrist stops him. He looks down to find Geralt watching him with sharp eyes, pupils blown wide. “Leave it on,” Geralt says, and Jaskier shudders at the heat in his tone. He drops the edge of the shirt, and Geralt goes back to work.

Usually when they do this, Jaskier makes an effort to stay in control. It’s not that he’s dominating by nature, though he doesn’t mind taking charge once in a while if his partner is interested in that. He just can’t handle it when Geralt turns his full attention to pleasuring him. It’s much easier to keep his feelings in check when he’s fully focused on Geralt’s pleasure. He can work his tender affections into the press of his lips and fingers easily, hide all the words he so desperately wants to say in the touch of skin on skin. It’s enough, he tells himself, to make Geralt feel good for once. And if he’s focused on how good Geralt feels, he doesn’t have to think about how much he wants Geralt to touch him tenderly in return.

This time, though, Geralt seems intent on making Jaskier writhe underneath him, and it’s immediately too much and not enough at once. Geralt takes his nipple into his mouth and sucks, and then laves his tongue over the bud until Jaskier is gasping. Once he seems satisfied with the left, he moves on to the other and gives it the same treatment, leaving love bites around the dusky skin before flicking his tongue over Jaskier’s nipple repeatedly. “Shit,” Jaskier says, throwing his head back as Geralt blows a stream of cool air over the sensitive skin. He feels hot and overwhelmed already, his cock straining in his trousers.

Geralt is soft and warm above him, nosing down the flat plane of Jaskier’s stomach, pressing tender kisses into his skin. He glances up when Jaskier speaks, and his eyes are soft too, the evening light streaming in through the lone window catching on the slim ring of gold around his pupils. He’s looking at Jaskier as if he cares, and his fingers are gentle when he reaches down to unbutton Jaskier’s pants. It’s too close, too much, but Jaskier doesn’t know how to change the pace, doesn’t know if he even wants to.

He drops his hands to Geralt’s shoulders as warm lips descend on his stomach, lifting his hips as Geralt pushes his trousers and braies down. Geralt leans back to pull them fully off, discarding them off the side of the bed. For a moment he just sits, looking over Jaskier spread out under him, and the warmth in his eyes makes Jaskier’s stomach go liquid with arousal even as anxiety furls in his chest. If Geralt keeps looking at him like that something is going to give. He can feel the words sitting like venom ready to spit on the back of his tongue, and he swallows them down before he tugs on Geralt’s shoulder to try and pull him back in. Maybe he can smother his selfish desires in Geralt’s mouth.

He shouldn’t want more. This should be enough.

But Geralt doesn’t meet him for the kiss, just shakes his head as he smooths a hand down Jaskier’s side and thumbs over the jut of his hip. He smiles, just a little, and his other hand moves to tug the shirt under Jaskier’s armpits back into place a bit. “I like you like this,” he says. Jaskier blinks at him.

“Like what?” he asks. He’s breathless, his cock arched up and smearing precome on his stomach, and Geralt is looking at him with something that seems part hunger and part fondness. He makes a last ditch effort, trying to turn things simple and dirty. He stretches out, knowing he must look obscene, and purrs, “Laid out for you? Ready for your cock?”

Geralt huffs a laugh - insulting, Jaskier thinks with a pout - and leans back in to press another kiss to Jaskier’s collarbone, this time just a faint brush of lips. “In my shirt,” he says simply, as if the words don’t wind their way immediately around Jaskier’s heart and squeeze. What does it mean? What could he possibly mean by that, it can’t be, he doesn’t--

Geralt is unaware of his spiralling, and after a moment it doesn’t matter, because Geralt is sliding his way back down Jaskier’s body and then Jaskier’s mind goes perfectly blank as Geralt’s mouth sinks down over his cock.

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasps, jerking at the sudden heat enveloping him. Two warm palms come up on either hip and hold him easily in place. Geralt hasn’t done this for him very often, and Jaskier had forgotten how overwhelming it is. There’s no hesitation in his movements, and all Jaskier can do is lie there and let it wash over him. He thrusts against Geralt’s hold as he bobs his head faster, tonguing Jaskier’s slit in a way that makes his eyes roll back. Shit but it’s good, and Geralt is so focused, Jaskier is losing his mind--

He’s looking down at where his dick is disappearing inside of Geralt’s stretched lips, and then Geralt lifts his mouth off of Jaskier’s cock, and their eyes meet. And he’s looking at Jaskier like he always does, with heat and affection and wonder, and Jaskier’s ears are roaring and his chest is bursting and his traitor mouth opens and he says, “Gods, I love you.”

Geralt’s eyes go wide, soft and shocked, and Jaskier immediately feels something cold wash over him. He can’t back out of this, he knows already. It was too earnest, too raw. If he’d said it when Geralt’s mouth had been on him maybe they could have dismissed it in the heat of passion, but he didn’t. Geralt is staring at him, mouth agape, lips still red from how they’d been stretched around Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier closes his eyes, not willing to look while Geralt gently turns him away.

But suddenly there are lips on his, and Jaskier opens his eyes with a gasp as Geralt plunders his mouth relentlessly. He kisses back - he’s powerless not to - and then Geralt is pulling away again, only to gasp out, “Do you? Do you mean it?”

Jaskier falls still for a moment, and Geralt meets his gaze as he waits for a response, clearly nervous. “I-- Of course I fucking mean it. Do you want me to mean it?” He feels like he’s going to shatter apart from how anxiety wars with hope in his chest, threatening to turn him into a wasteland. Geralt just reaches up a hand and slides it up Jaskier’s neck until he’s cradling his cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, and then presses a helpless kiss to Jaskier’s lips, painful and earnest. “Me too. Didn’t think you would feel the same.”

Jaskier pulls away again to stare Geralt in the face, shock a soft blow against his fragile heart. “I’ve loved you for years,” is all he can think to say.

Geralt makes a pained noise and then they’re kissing again, and this time they don’t stop. Geralt presses down until they’re one long line of heat, touching from shoulder to hip, legs slotted easily together. They rut against each other until Jaskier grows tired of the rough friction and reaches down to push Geralt’s trousers out of the way, taking them both in hand. Geralt’s hand doesn’t leave his face, and they don’t stop kissing, not until they’re both too worked up for anything more than panting against each other’s mouths.

Geralt slips his head down and presses his nose back to Jaskier’s jaw, breathing him in. “Smell so good,” he stutters out, “like me, like you’re mine, Jask, fuck I’m close--”

“Yeah, yes,” Jaskier says over him, canting his hips up as he moves his hand faster. “Love you, I love you, come on.”

Geralt goes still above him, a high whine leaving his throat as he grinds down into Jaskier’s hand, burying his face in the warmth of Jaskier’s shoulder, his spend coating Jaskier’s fingers and dripping onto his stomach. Jaskier works him until his shuddering stops, and then Geralt reaches down a hand to still him. Jaskier lets out a soft ah at the pause, but soon Geralt’s hand replaces his own and he’s thrusting wildly up into a familiar, calloused palm. Geralt shifts to the side slightly, and Jaskier turns his face to follow him, desperate to be as close as he can. “Geralt,” he begs, nearly a sob.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt promises, and that’s it, he’s done. He clenches his teeth as the first crest of pleasure overtakes him, and Geralt slowly wrings out everything he has until Jaskier collapses back into the mattress, gasping and oversensitive.

They lie there for a few moments, just catching their breath in the quiet room. It’s darker now, the sun beyond the little window finally conceding to the cool night. Deep purple shadows fill the valleys of Geralt’s body, and Jaskier unthinkingly reaches out to trace across the edge of one. He lets the simple sensation calm his racing heart enough to say, “We should probably talk about it.”

“Probably,” Geralt hums, and then he reaches out and hauls Jaskier to him, pressing their sweaty, come-sticky bodies together. Jaskier makes a face, and he feels Geralt’s laugh more than he hears it. “In the morning,” he says, and Jaskier sighs, letting himself relax into the embrace.

“Alright,” he agrees. “In the morning.”

He lets his eyes fluttering shut, his head falling to rest on Geralt’s shoulder, arm slung over his stomach. It’s peaceful, and Geralt is warm and firm in all the right places, and he’s nearly asleep when Geralt speaks again.

“Me too,” he murmurs into the dark, pressing the words into Jaskier’s skin like a kiss. “I love you too.”

Jaskier smiles, and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

#geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #witcher fic #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #prompts #grey #merry

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peachycheol · 4 years

Text

| lost in translation |

➸ summary: jeonghan asks you to translate some of his fans’ comments, but you hadn’t expected them to be so... dirty. ➸ genre: pwp ➸ pairing: idol!jeonghan x english-speaking friend!reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, oral sex (m. and fem. receiving), face fucking, deep throating, cum swallowing <333, **the italicized comments are in english** ➸ w.c: 2.6k

➸ author’s note: hi i’m alive!! i’m so sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long, but i kinda just lost my mojo for a little bit 😔 but worry not- i have experienced a reawakening and i am now more of a whore than ever so hopefully i can get back to posting more. i have a lot i have planned out, but i wanted to get a quick fic out to y’all as a BIG THANK YOU bc i reached so many milestones while i was gone 🥺 🥰 💕 i love you guys and i’m really glad ppl are reading my fics haha

this fic is based on the infamous jeonghan gym video, y’all know the one (thank you to @haechanblr for reminding me of it and helping me with this fic i love u so much!!). i was actually in the middle of writing this when hoshi decided to post his own gym video and PHEW. JEEZ. I’M STILL RECOVERING. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this one bc i really enjoyed writing it 💖 🍑

[ foreversvt ] commented: I AM ON MY KNEES [ yoon1004 ] commented: is it jeonghan’s birthday or is it mine [ happy bday angel! ] commented: YOON JEONGHAN ???? [ twinkluvr69 ] commented: grrr wanna slurp those noodle arms like spaghetti

You continue scrolling through the comments left underneath the video, trying to keep your face composed as you come across more and more explicit reactions from fans all over the world. Seokmin had uploaded the video to Weverse as an innocent birthday prank for Jeonghan, but he probably had not anticipated just how horny their fans could get over a seemingly harmless video of Jeonghan doing some leg presses. To be fair to the fans though, you yourself had watched the clip several times and you would be lying if you didn’t say you were… affected.

“Well? What are they saying?” Jeonghan leans over to watch you scroll, and you are acutely aware of the warmth of his arm pressing against yours. The two of you are sitting on the floor of your living room with your backs resting against your couch, hanging out after a small birthday dinner with some of his other friends. As one of Jeonghan’s english-speaking friends, he had asked you to help him translate some of his birthday wishes before his day ended, though you’re not sure how to tell him that his fans are not exactly sending in wholesome professions of love.

Instead, you decide to try giving him some tamer versions in the hopes of satisfying him before you get to anything too blunt. “This user says you have noodle arms, but I think they like it so it’s okay.”

“Hey! I’ve been trying my best to get thicker, but not all of us can be born beefed up like Seungcheol.”

“You asked me what they said!” you laugh. “Most of these are just birthday messages anyway-- I’m sure you don’t need me to translate ‘Happy birthday, I love you!’ a thousand times.”

“Yeah, obviously I understand the more common phrases, but there’s so many that I don’t understand today for some reason!” Jeonghan huffs, then points to a comment that you had purposefully hid under your thumb. “Like okay, what’s that one say?”

[ seungcheolswife ] commented: wow the way this video made my pussy clench,,,,

“Uh,” you start, already feeling your ears go warm. Should you just lie? It’s not like he would be able to tell, right? You and Jeonghan are close, but not so close that you can just say these things to him. Especially when this comment may be hitting a little too close to home for you. Even now, you remember the bolt of arousal that shot to your pussy the moment you heard Jeonghan’s first grunt of effort. You bite your lip. No, Jeonghan really didn’t need to know about that. “I-it says something like ‘you made their heart flutter’.”

“Wait.” Jeonghan takes a moment to scan your face before his eyes narrow at you suspiciously. You give him your best innocent smile, but you already know he’s caught you. You had always been a shitty liar. “What does it really say? Is it bad?”

You sigh. Of course he hadn’t bought it. “No, it’s not bad. I just don’t know if you want to hear stuff like this…”

“Well now I have to know. Tell me exactly what it says.”

“E-exactly?” You meet Jeonghan’s stern gaze and you know that there’s no convincing him otherwise. What Jeonghan wants, Jeonghan gets. “I-it says that the video made their p-pussy clench.”

After several beats of silence, you look over to Jeonghan to see he is completely unaffected by the comment. Or maybe he is. His eyes glint mischievously in the light when he responds. “I said exactly, baby. Try again.”

Your whole body feels hot under his smug, expectant gaze; you should be surprised by the sudden pet name, but it only makes your mind fuzzy with the beginnings of arousal. You swallow thickly, unable to disobey him. “T-this video made m-my pussy clench.”

“So naughty… Just this short clip has your cute little pussy all needy,” Jeonghan clicks his tongue, but a knowing grin spreads on his lips. His words have you shifting in your seat in an attempt to relieve the dull ache setting in between your legs, though you don’t dare let it on. It’s clear Jeonghan is playing a game with you, and although you know you’re going to lose, you’ll be damned if you let him win so easily. “Let’s read some more, hm? Translate this one for me.”

[ daddy_hannie ] commented: omg i bet jeonghan makes the hottest sounds when he’s fucking

The comment he scrolls to nearly makes you whimper. It’s embarrassing how clearly you can recall the sound of each of his low groans coming through the screen, how sexy he sounded. Images of Jeonghan on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed as he grits out desperate groans of pleasure, leave you in a daze while your panties quickly dampen with your arousal.

“Go on.” Jeonghan’s firm tone only makes you squirm more, and this time he takes note of the way your breathing has gone shallow and how your eyes are already hazy.

“I bet Jeonghan makes the hottest sounds when he’s fucking,” you say softly.

Jeonghan chuckles, his breath tickling against your neck. “Now you’re just making me blush, sweetheart. I bet you’d make some pretty noises when I’m fucking into you too,” he muses casually. You finally let out a soft whine, tired of holding your breath as he moves to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“J-jeonghan…”

“Hm, I think we should read a couple more,” the boy says, ignoring you and scrolling through more of the comments. You pout - your wetness has already soaked through your panties, your cunt just aching for his attention, but of course Jeonghan isn’t done teasing you.

You’re wondering how long it will take for him to finally push your back to the floor and fuck you senseless when you spot a comment that might help you get you what you want quicker. ”I want to read this one,” you tell him, already rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

[ ~hanniehae!~ ] commented: god i KNOW your dick is big like PLEASE I WANNA SUCK UR DICK SO BAD

He raises an amused eyebrow at you, and you wait for him to stop you, biting back a smile when he doesn’t. You make sure to look him in the eyes when you say it, his own dark eyes telling you that he’s impatient for you too, and you nearly let it out in a whine from how much you mean it. “Please Jeonghan… I want to suck your dick so bad.”

For a sliver of a moment, Jeonghan goes rigid. Then, his smug smile returns as he brings up a thumb to tug on your bottom lip. “Mmm, such a pretty mouth saying such filthy words,” he sighs, shaking his head. “If you wanted to put it to good use, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Jeonghan chuckles at how eagerly you follow him as he moves to sit on the couch behind you, keeping his hold on your chin so that you keep your eyes on his. He has you kneel between his legs and you don’t waste any time in reaching for the button and zipper on his jeans.

The man helps you tug his pants and boxers down to his ankles, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock springing back against his stomach. Of course it’s pretty just like the rest of him. “You’ve been teasing me all this time, but you’re already this hard?” you whisper tauntingly as you lean forward to ghost your lips over the base of his shaft.

Jeonghan’s shaky exhale does not go unnoticed by you, but his response comes out smooth as ever. “Could you blame me? You just looked so cute getting all worked up from saying all those dirty things about me. I bet your little panties are soaked through by now-- guh!” He lets out a surprised groan when you suddenly flatten your tongue against him, letting it drag slowly up to his tip.

“You talk too much.” You look up at him with a smile before you wrap your lips around his leaking tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. Teasingly, you swirl your tongue against his slit until you feel his hand thread through your hair, as though he’s begging you for more. You decide to be nice, lowering your mouth further down his cock, letting him feel the slide of your wet tongue on his sensitive skin.

A soft sigh leaves his lips at the sensation, pleasantly carding his fingers through your hair as you take as much of him as you can. “That’s it. Good girl.”

His praise has you clenching around nothing, and you whine as you steadily begin to bob your head along his hard cock, reveling in how he would let out small whimpers whenever you would lightly suckle on it.

Just as he gets used to the feeling of your mouth on him, you suddenly take him as deep as you can into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks tightly around his cock. “Oh, f-fuck!” Jeonghan lets out a strangled moan, his hips lifting from the couch to fuck further into your mouth.

You feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, but it only spurs you on even more as you swallow around him, causing him to throw his head back in ecstasy. At this point, a dull ache starts setting in your jaw and drool begins to messily slip from the corners of your mouth as you return to sucking him at a more steady pace, and you feel your pussy throb from how dirty it all felt. Though you and Jeonghan did flirt occasionally, he had always felt off-limits to you-- he’s an idol and you’re just one of his normal-person friends. But here you are with his cock in your mouth, all thanks to the horny thoughts of his fans no less.

To their credit, they were right. Jeonghan does make the hottest sounds while fucking. He lets out another throaty groan from above you and, unexpectedly, he pulls you off his cock. His pupils are blown wide with desire, his chest heaving slightly as he looks at the state you’re in with your swollen lips and the drool on your chin. “Can I fuck your mouth?” he asks breathlessly.

“Yes please,” you reply, voice already a little hoarse from your efforts. You shift back on your knees to make room for Jeonghan when he stands, opening your mouth obediently when he moves to slide his cock back onto your tongue. Jeonghan tightens his grip on your hair, keeping you still as he starts to fuck into your mouth with quick, shallow thrusts. “Mmh!”

“Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” Jeonghan sighs appreciatively. You bring your hands up to grip at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady when his thrusts become a little more erratic, causing you to gag around him as his cock continues to hit the back of your throat. Still, all your focus remains on hearing more of Jeonghan’s pleasured groans, on seeing his face scrunch up in absolute bliss, so you keep your mouth open wide despite the tears that prick at your eyes. When Jeonghan looks down at you taking his cock, eyes glazed over and fucked out, he curses loudly. “Shit-- can I come in your mouth?”

Unable to speak with your mouth stuffed full, you cutely give him a thumbs up. Jeonghan would have laughed if he wasn’t so close to cumming. With several more thrusts, he cries out a strained warning before his hot release fills your mouth. He rides out his orgasm, twitching in your hold as his pleasure bleeds into oversensitivity. Once he’s pulled out, you make sure to stick your tongue out so he can see how his cum coats your tongue right before you swallow it all down; all he can do is smile thinking about how he really should have fucked you sooner.

“So good for me,” Jeonghan says to you softly, helping you up to your feet so that he can pull you into a heated kiss full of tongue and whimpers. You desperately grip onto Jeoghan’s shirt, pressing your body against him in search for some sort of relief for the arousal that is pumping through you and straight to your neglected pussy. He can’t help but smile against your lips. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you now.”

You let him lead you to sit on the couch-- this time you are the one sitting on the edge of the cushions with Jeonghan’s head between your legs. He slides a hand over your clothed core, humming when he finds that you really have soaked straight through your panties. Just as you begin to squirm underneath his teasing fingers, he strips you of both your leggings and underwear in one swift movement, leaving you bare before him.

The sight of him pushing your legs apart is enough to leave you in a daze. Your breath catches when you feel cool air brushing against your inner thighs, slick with your wetness, then it all comes out in a whine when you feel Jeonghan’s velvet tongue swipes at the spot for a taste. “O-oh!” a cry slips from your lips once his tongue finally slides through your folds. “Mmh!”

“Does it feel good?” Jeonghan whispers, not bothering to wait for a proper answer because your broken moans tell him to keep going. He spreads your lips open with his fingers, eating you out slowly and deliberately as though he is savoring his favorite meal.

The room is filled with your soft whimpers and the lewd sounds of Jeonghan’s mouth working against your pussy and it only tightens the pressure in your stomach, causing your toes to curl. “P-please-- please let me cum,” you rasp out, and your eyes roll to the back, your hand clutching tightly at the back of Jeonghan’s head, at the feeling of his tongue flattening against your clit. “Ngh! Y-yes!”

He skillfully flicks his tongue on your bud, shaking his head back and forth until his chin is absolutely covered in your juices. When your hips begin to move of their own accord, he lets you ride his face as you please, his cock twitching at how desperate you are for him. “S-so good,” you sob, only able to mutter unintelligible nonsense in your delirium. Then, he wraps his mouth around your clit, and you’re left squealing as your legs begin to shake from how obscenely good it feels. “Shit, I-- I’m--!”

You come undone with a loud cry of Jeonghan’s name, your body going rigid from how hard your orgasm hits you. Jeonghan takes it all, his eyes closed as he works you through your release, only letting up when you slump away from him.

The both of you finally look at each other properly in the aftermath, chests heaving and hair wild. Suddenly you’re both erupting in giggles at the realization of what you two had just done. “What are you looking at?” Jeonghan asks, eyes bright as he smiles handsomely up at you.

You reach down to swipe your thumb against his chin, which is still shining with your cum, barely able to contain your giggles. “Who’s got the dirty mouth now?”

#svtredroom #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #svt smut #m:yjh #g:pwp #l:os #hehehehe surprise #kiss for good luck mwah

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endlessymphony · 3 years

Note

Hi congrats on 50 Followers !!!!

🧸 : James Potter x reader where he spends a lot of time with the marauders and kinda ignores the reader and forgets their anniversary. So they get into a big argument and James says something mean about her being a muggle born.

Happy ending please 😁

Thank you 🙏

thank you so much lovely anon!

apologies.

pairing - james potter x reader

summary - james forgot your two year anniversary and left you waiting all day, just to come to your dorm and end up starting an argument

warnings - arguments, a bit of prejudice against muggles/muggle-borns, cussing

a/n - im really glad you guys like my james potter fics lol

you awoke, a rush of adrenaline and giddiness taking over as you practically shot yourself out of bed, almost tripping over the blankets you shoved onto the floor. you rushed over to the calendar hanging on the back of your door, bare feet pitter pattering on the hardwood floor, and yes! today was the day! the hearts circled in pen around the date only confirming your excitement.

your two year anniversary with the one and only james potter. your heart pounding a million miles a minute- feeling it ought to beat right out your chest. below the heart was written ‘surprise date’ in his handwriting, as he insisted that he could handle planning this date on his own. he was wrong, although you weren’t aware of that quite yet.

you spun yourself in a circle, making small noises of glee as you tossed yourself back onto your bed, thinking of what james might be up to. “oh merlin, i need to get ready.” you gasped, sitting back up and rushing over to your wardrobe.

it took an hour to find an outfit that you deemed ‘perfect’, settling on a top that you knew james loved. you spent another thirty minutes on hair and makeup, overjoyed to be spending the day with your beloved.

the waiting game began.

at first it was difficult to wait for him, adrenaline still rushing through your veins- body running off of pure excitement.

an hour passed, then two... then five, and soon it was much darker outside, the sun starting to set.

‘maybe he’s held up grabbing flowers, or making dinner reservations’ you thought, trying to push away the anxiety that was slowly creeping in to replace the high that you were feeling before. ‘oh! maybe we’re doing a night under the stars, how gorgeous would that be’

so, you continued to wait

but he never showed.

james finally came stumbling in to your dorm room at half-passed twelve, chuckling at the sight in front of him. you were wrapped up in a blanket, laying in your bed so that your back faced the door, hiding your hurt expression from him.

“hey, love.” he crooned as he walked over and sat down beside you on the bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “the boys and i had a great day today, you won’t believe what we got up to!”

you slowly sat up, turning to look at him. tear stains on full display, mascara making them all-the-more obvious. james let out a small gasp, hand moving to cup your face. “oh no, what’s wrong? did something happen?” he gently smoothed his thumb over your cheek.

you pulled yourself away from his touch, throwing the blanket off like you had done this morning, but a different feeling had taken over by this point. anger. disappointment. hurt.

you dragged him by the arm and pointed to the date on your calendar, tapping the paper with your pointer finger a few times so he would get the gist. “what are you trying to tell me, y/n?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, trying to play the dumb card.

“you missed our anniversary, james. it’s been two years.” you felt defeated, like every ounce of life had been drained out of your body, and you were now an empty shell. “i waited for you” you began, “all day.”

“it’s not that big of a deal, let’s just do something this weekend instead.” he offered, a smile making its way to his face.

god- you wanted to punch that stupid fucking smile off his face.

“not that big of a deal, james? you left me hanging. ALL DAY i waited.” you were starting to get angry, your voice starting to waver as it raised in decibels. “you knew how much this meant to me! or so i thought you did, but lately, it’s like everyone else is MUCH more important than i am.” your hands balled into fists, brows furrowing slightly as you started to let him have it.

“and don’t you fucking dare say this isn’t a big deal, james potter.” you spat, voice like venom as your said his name. “you really let me down, you really fucking blew it this time, i am really fucking upset about this.”

“i should’ve known that muggles overreact over everything.” he muttered to himself, brows practically knitted together as he ran a hand through his hair. his eyes widened as soon as he said that, opening his mouth to apologize to you.

“you know what james, just fucking leave, just get out.” your lip started to quiver, eyes threatening to spill hot tears down your face all over again, you wanted to hold your composure in front of him. your heart felt as if it had completely shattered in your chest. “really? you really want me to leave?” it was his turn to feel defeated, face started to relax from its scrunched up state.

“yeah, i do. now get the fuck out.”

james looked as if he had his tail between his legs, shoulders slumping down as his whole body started to deflate in defeat. embarrassment. shame. “okay.” his voice was small, this version of him was completely different from the ‘regular’ james that you knew and loved. he walked out, turning to look at you, but you just slammed the door in his face.

you cast a quick silencing charm before you began to scream-sob. tears feeling as if they’re burning your skin- falling to your knees as you let the waves of heartbreak, pain, and anger completely take you over. you cried until you couldn’t anymore, head pounding and eyes starting to get puffy and red. you screamed until you couldn’t any longer, voice hoarse and throat feeling as if it were on fire.

you sobbed still, silently, nothing coming out as you had nothing left to give. “thanks james, thanks for making me feel so loved... so appreciated.” your voice was broken, cracking with every word. you laid on the floor, wishing that it would swallow you up, so you could disappear and never have to feel a thing.

you ended up falling asleep, the whole day taking it’s toll on you. you had nothing more to give, no more fight left in you.

james knocked on your door lightly, afraid that you were about to tear his head off the moment that he stepped inside your dorm. “y/n?” he asked, tone merely above a whisper as he slowly opened the door and stepped in. james closed the door gently, eyes finally falling on your figure laying on the floor.

he felt a pang of pain shoot through his heart. “i caused this.” he mumbled, taking a few slow steps towards you and sitting down. he felt tears welling in his eyes, a few managing to slide down his face as he looked at you. james felt nothing but remorse and disappointment for how things went earlier. he had completely forgotten about the anniversary- what a dick move.

your eyes flickered open, vision slightly out of focus as you try to figure out who’s figure is in front of you. low and behold it was james, crying, mumbling about how he knows he fucked up- and it’s eating him up inside, and about how much he loves you.

you began to sit up, blinking a few times to wave the sleep from your eyes. “james?” you asked, voice still torn up. his head shot up, trying to wipe away the tears with his hands. “hey.”

“what are you doing here?” you asked, “sh. don’t talk, you’ll blow your voice out.” james replied. “i wanted to come back and apologize to you. i feel awful about earlier, and i know how much i hurt you with my actions, especially with my comment about muggles.” he gently cupped your face again, “i didn’t mean it, i promise. i really didn’t mean it.” he sniffled, trying to keep the tears away, but despite his efforts- they returned. “i really love you. god, i’m a shitty fucking boyfriend, aren’t i?” james chuckled, trying to ignore the tears now steaming down his face.

“james.” you started, “no, y/n, i need to make it up to you for how terrible today was. i need to show you that you’re loved, and make you feel important and special, and like the only person in the world.” he started to trip over his words, talking fast out of nervousness, he didn’t want you to kick him out again.

“can we talk about it more later?” you finally managed to ask, “yeah. yeah, sure. definitely. you can sleep in tomorrow and i’ll go and get you some breakfast, does that sound alright?” he was rambling again, trying to ‘fix’ everything. you nodded, a small smile beginning to grace your lips.

“now let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he stood up and offered a hand to you. “we have time for apologies tomorrow.” you took his hand hesitatingly, slowly standing up, legs a bit wobbly.

james walked you to your bathroom, grabbing you by the waist and sitting you up on the counter. he began to lightly hum to himself as he pulled out a bottle of makeup remover and some cotton rounds, pouring some of the liquid onto the round and gently starting to clean the makeup off your face. he washed your face and brushed your hair for you after, as well.

he helped you change into your pyjamas, and placed you into bed, picking up the blankets off the floor and placing them back on the bed- tucking you in. he leaned in and kissed your head before stripping down to just his t-shirt and boxers, placing his glasses on the nightstand, and climbing into bed beside you.

he spent the rest of the night whispering compliments to you, telling you how much he loves you and wants to be with you forever, and there was no shortage of apologies said. james held you to his chest, playing with your hair until the both of you eventually drifted off to sleep.

#endlessymphony’s 50 follower picnic!#james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter #the marauders #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp drabbles #harry potter universe #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #harry potter angst #james potter angst #angst fanfic

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kiranogareru · 3 years

Text

STAR GAZING

WARNING: Language, but this is all fluffyyyy

A/N: I present to you, my first requested work. Dedicated to @mysticmaee I apologize for taking so long, I hope this meets your expectations. Enjoy and again I'm so so sorry it took me so long

Y/n and Bakugou -as much as he refuses to admit it- have been pretty good friends for a while and they recently started dating

Katsuki is well aware of the fact that he isn't all that good at this whole relationship thing!

He knows how a relationship is supposed to be like, he's read all those things about them in novels before and even though they appeared unrealistically perfect to him, Bakugou couldn't help but compare himself and feel inferior to those fictional men and their romancing abilities!

He has observed how well Y/N seems to be fitting the role of a girlfriend and has taken mental notes of the way she always shows him how she feels, whether that's through words or affectionate little gestures, such as simply holding his hand!

Bakugou has never really been the type for physical contact, one could even say he is quite touch starved in all honesty, which makes him a little bit timid to show her his appreciation that way, since it makes him feel uncomfortable and it gives him this weird fluttery feeling inside

The blonde thinks back to the short time they have shared as a couple and how sweet Y/n has been to him, even before, when they were just friends and he insisted on pushing her away!

Bakugou is suddenly left dumbstruck, when he comes to realize that he never even asked her out properly! She just kind of blurted out her feelings and he simply claimed her as his..and by his, he means his one weakness, but of course it goes without saying that he would never reveal that!

He then decides that he wants to try harder. He knows he can do better 'I can be the best boyfriend she's ever had, I'll be her number one!' he tells himself

'She put so much effort into approaching me and I know I made it even more difficult -I can't help it, that's just how I am- but the least I can do is put in just as much effort, it's only fair!'

He doesn't want to be a shitty boyfriend, because for 1 he knows that's not what she deserves and 2 he's the best, he's not one of those stupid extras, who would let her slip right through their fingers!

'It's time I finally lowered my defenses' he thinks, although he's still hesitant of showing his softer side and unsure of what that can possibly lead to

Katsuki walks in silence as he rakes his brain for a way to make it up to Y/n for the way he's been so far.

It's not like he's treating her bad or anything, as a matter of fact he is at his calmest when he's around her and all he does is admire the way her beautiful e/c eyes sparkle when she's focused on something she enjoys, or how her face lights up when she's happy, or he revels in the taste of her lips against his own whenever they share an unexpected kiss!

This warm feeling spreads throughout his chest and blood rushes to his cheeks, tinting them with a shade of pink, at the thought of the memories!

That's when it hits him and the perfect idea pops up in his head. If he's learnt anything from romance novels, it's the fact that every relationship starts with a date!

And that's something they haven't done yet, which gives Katsuki the opportunity to change that!

"Katsu?" Y/n stops in her tracks, making him break out of his trance and do the same

"You zoned out, is everything ok?" She asks with a soft smile, placing a hand on his cheek

"Tch, everything's fine dumbass, I'm just thinking" Bakugou returns the smile, resting his hand at the back of her neck, gently pulling her head closer and leaning in to leave a chaste kiss on her forhead

Y/n is left speechless and her cheeks burn up at the sudden action, Bakugou doesn't usually behave this way, especially not in public!

'I don't know what he's been thinking about, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with this adorable change' She ponders

Y/n is quick to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of burnt caramel and cologne -something that she's grown so accustomed to, that it now brings her comfort

Bakugou's eyes widen in surprise and he lets out a breath as he relaxes, bringing one hand to her head as his other one makes it's way to her back to hold her close

They stand there in each other's embrace for a bit, before they decide to continue their walk to the dorms, hand in hand

•••

Once they reach the dorms, they catch the attention of a few of their classmates and friends. It's only logical though, since a smiling Bakugou Katsuki is not a sight one could easily miss!

The rest of the day goes by pretty quick as usual, since everyone is studying either alone or in groups, but once that's out of the way most of the students normally spend their free time by engaging in their hobbies of choice

While Y/n is hanging out with Jirou in the purple haired girl's room, singing and having a good time, Bakugou takes that chance to go to the kitchen and set his plan in motion

He has all the time he needs to prepare a few things for later

While the ruby eyed boy is in the middle of cooking, Sero walks into the kitchen, Kaminari following close behind him

"Kacchan?!" Kaminari exclaims in surprise

"Hm?" Katsuki turns around and realizes he has an audience

"How come you're cooking today?" Sero questions in confusion

It's not uncommon for the explosive boy to cook for his classmates, but he had done so just a few days ago already, that's what didn't sit right with Sero

"All of you extras cook like shit, tonight we're having some actual food!" Bakugou's voice remains low in volume, but his usual aggression is evident in his tone

"It smells amazing, what is it?" Sero technically drooling as he walks over to check

"I bet it's something spicy!" Kaminari declares, knowing his friend's taste

"Damn right Dunce Face! Let's hope you idiots can handle it this time! Tch" Bakugou tries to mask the smile forming on his face with his signature, cocky, smirk

"Kaminari.." Sero gives the electric blonde a look

"I know right!" Kaminari laughs, returning the look

"What are you idiots on about?" Bakugou raises an eyebrow

•••

As soon as the table is set and dinner is served, the students pick up on something unusual

"Hm? Where did Bakubro go?" Kirishima points out, while looking around the room

Kaminari and Sero stand back to back with a hand on their chin and wearing a knowing expression of confidence on their faces! The sparkles surrounding them are technically visible at this point

"What do you know? Spill the tea!" Mina interrogates with a pointed look

"Has anyone seen Y/n? I thought I saw her come downstairs earlier.." Jirou asks, seemingly popping up out of nowhere

"They are probably fu-" Sero wraps Mineta up using his tape with an unbothered face

"Shut up you nasty grape!" He scolds "They are on a date! We are sure of it!" He continues pridefully

"Who knew Bakugou could be so good with the ladies, right!" Kaminari comments, almost in disbelief

Meanwhile Y/n is comfortably sitting on a blanket behind the dorms with Bakugou. The night air feels cool on her skin, but not cold enough to give her goosebumps. It is rather refreshing if anything

They place their now empty dishes on the tray that's sitting in front of them and Bakugou pushes it aside

"That was delicious!" A look of content spreading on her features

"Hm, of course it was!" He cocky voice sounds. A winning smile playing on his lips

"Katsuki, this is so sweet..thank you" Y/n softly speaks, tilting Bakugou's head slightly with a hand on his cheek and leaving a feather-like kiss on the other

"You don't need to thank me dumbass..you deserve it!" His tone calm and loving

Bakugou lifts his hand and places it over her smaller one that is resting on his face

They lie down on the blanket, eyes staring at the wide night sky, littered with sparkling gems

"That one reminds me of you!" The excitement clear in her voice as she points at the sky

"How can a star remind you of me dumbass?" His laughs in amusement

"The way it shines looks like an explosion, it's powerful and beautiful!" Her explanation flusters the blonde momentarily, but he gathers himself and starts looking for the perfect star

"That one right there is you then!" He gestures towards it

"Is it now? How can a star remind you of me eh?" She teases

"It stands out, it's so bright and has such a stong presence!"

"Katsu..you idiot" She murmurs feeling bashful

"Huh who are you calling an idiot, idiot?"

Y/n intertwines her hand with his and Bakugou tenses up!

He still isn't used to the gentle gesture, since he has always perceived his hands as weapons, however as he eases into it he starts rubbing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb

"This side of you is so soothing, so intoxicating~" She smiles before continuing

"I'm so lucky to be the one who gets to see you so peaceful..Dynamite" He is caught off guard by the mention of his hero name, which only she knows this far

The first reaction that comes to his mind is to kiss her and his body acts just as fast, pulling both her and himself to sit up and doing exactly that

His lips connect to hers in an uncharacteristically slow and passionate kiss! It is as if Bakugou is pouring everything that he can't put into words in this kiss!

He pulls away with his confidence restored

"Do you want to be mine?"

"I'm my own person idiot and we're already dating!" She laughs, knowing what he meant, but wanting to mess with him regardless

"I know that dumbass! You think I would date some sort of weakling?" He asks matter-of-factly

"I'm already yours and you're all mine!" She boasts

"Damn right!" Bakugou cups her face in one hand, tilting it upwards and leaning down slightly to capture her lips with his once more

228 notes · View notes

jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 5

“She broke up with me.”

> genre : Angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 4k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; jjk heartbroken & crying; some wholesome flashbacks to make you swoon

previous - next

The next box arrives about a month or so later. You haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He had been out of town, hopping from shop to shop, completing a series of long-awaited guest positions.

He’s kept you up with his days and his appointments as much as he could, sending you dorky selfies, little videos of city landscapes you’ve never seen before, and exhausted late vocal notes made in tiny, with dragged on, mumbled words, to wish you luck and send you some courage for work.

You did not expect that the day you’ll meet again, he’d be so different from the Jungkook you prefer and left a month ago.

It takes you a few seconds to realize. At first, you’re preoccupied with the sudden set of needles stinging your insides when you hear the peculiar sound of your front door being unlocked. There’s a very finite amount of probability that it’s not him, he's the rudest of your tiny group of friends and the only one that feels comfortable enough in your home to invite himself without any prior warning.

It’s him, your best friend and subject of too many of your both daily and nightly thoughts and preoccupations.

Once he appears in the door frame, with his heavy coat on his heavy XXL sweatshirt, in his heavy military pants, face turned down hidden by his hair, the magic thing, that grows so mysteriously quick. There’s the little explosion of warmth in your chest. The one that makes you smile tenderly without meaning to. He’s allowed to see how happy he makes you, as a friend anyway. Everybody smiles this way when he walks into a room.

Your eyes catch sight of a box, all white, that fits in his hand. Your eyes roll on reflex. You’re about to curse again. It’s not nice, you don’t want to, to attack him as soon as he returns to you but he’s asking for it, isn't he?

He’s still in the hallway, slowly slipping his shoes off, focus fixed on the present in his hand. The time he takes doing it and the seemingly seriousness you feel irradiating from his aura, confuse you.

Jungkook shakes his head twice, the way he does, kind of like a wet puppy would, before setting the box on the counter of your open kitchen.

It’s only when he starts walking towards you, that his head raises up, just a bit, enough for his eyes to meet yours through his hair. He has a tiny smile as a greeting. He looks really upset.

He should be bouncing on the balls of his feet, he should be doing some TikTok cringe dance moves to make you laugh or yell some greetings in a dialect. He has a lot of peculiar, very Jungkook ways to celebrate meeting you again after a while. Even if neither of you has ever said the words, you do miss each other a lot when you can’t see each other, and the excitement that blooms during your reunions translates that.

But he’s sad today. It’s obvious.

When he takes a seat beside you on the couch, he avoids your gaze. You’re agape, watching him with probably too much insistence, a hand holding a spoon half-filled with yoghurt in the air.

These few moments are decisive. They’ll determine rather he’ll talk or not. Jungkook, for someone who cries easily, is not good with feelings and sharing them aloud. Sometimes he can, often he can’t. He’s told you not to worry about it before, that it was fine because sometimes he just didn’t need to, he just wanted a shoulder to lay his head-on.

“You okay, Guk?”

He shrugs. You just have the time to catch his upper lip sucked in, a twinkle in his eye before he’s switching position, bumping into you and hitting his own shin against the coffee table like a giant dog, unaware of his own growth, would. Only to settle for an impressively tiny huddle against your side, cheek pressed to your shoulder.

So that’s how it’ll be.

It’s heartbreaking, torturesome. You always feel miserable when you know he’s sad but not knowing the reason makes it a thousand times worse. You might be the same vengeful kid you used to be. The one who’ll inquire straight away who made him cry and immediately went on her way to beat that reason up -it being another child or the troll of a tree that made him trip.

Except you are grown-ups now. He knows he can deal with his problems on his own and he would probably not let you go and try to beat up everyone -he probably doesn’t believe you can too, even though he’d be wrong about that.

Jungkook tears his hand out of his pocket only to mime you to turn up the volume of the television. You do so and the pretty hand is gone and if it wasn’t for his quiet sniffling and the heavy press on your side, you wouldn’t know he’s really here with you at all.

Your heart hurts the whole duration of the shitty afternoon movie, even if having his warmth next to you helps a little. He leaves later the way he entered, mostly silently, only smiling a bit when you smooch the side of his head and squeeze his forearm in a wordless comforting effort.

Guk

Sorry for earlier

Guk

It was nice seeing you though

You

Don’t be sorry. Can you call?

Guk

Yes, in 5

The five minutes turn out to be twenty. You wonder, hoping to be wrong, how numerous those tears were that he needed twenty minutes to dry them.

When he finally calls, voice quiet and throat dry, whispering through the phone straight in your ear, uneasiness settles deep and heavy in your stomach as you know, you were right.

“What happened, Jungkook?”

He must not have heard you this soft and gentle for a while because you can hear a humourless chuckle you recognize as incredulity. He clears his throat a first time, inhales deep and has to clear it a second time before he can start, still choking out on a syllable or two.

“She broke up with me.”

The gasp that escapes you, loud and obnoxious, could not have been faked. This news is hardly believable to you. First of all, because, to your greatest guilty despair, Jungkook and his girlfriend, who’ve been dating for almost a year, are probably the embodiment of The Power Couple. There’s no doubt, in all the people that know them, that they are meant to be. They look good together. They are on the same page, always, it seems. They’re beautiful and enviable, an example of a match from Heaven, healthy and aesthetic if that's even a mentionable point.

You can’t, even in your deepest, darkest fantasies, have imagined them to break up.

But the thing that makes it all the harder to comprehend is that she is the one who did it. The girl is great. She’s beautiful, she’s smart and funny, so you heard. She has that glamour to her, with her dainty pretty milky hands and long thin milky neck, with her silky, shiny black locks wondrously floating over her shoulders. She is great, matches him well.

She is not that far behind him but she's still not Jeon-Jungkook-great.

How could she have broken up with him? Someone dumping him makes no sense to you.

“That’s-“ You catch yourself before the words slip out clumsily. You’ve never really been talented at comforting people with words, especially a crying Jungkook which is the equivalent of your very own kryptonite. “I’m so sorry, Jungkook.” And you mean it. Even more so when you hear him snivel hard. You’ve never allowed yourself to, even just for yourself, in the quiet and discreet comfort of your own head, wish for that to happen. Because if there’s one thing that you want more than anything else, more than having him for yourself, more than your own fulfilment, it’s his happiness. And he was happy with Jiyeun. He’s got the girl he had a crush on for months and they went so well together. “But why? Did she give you a reason?”

You hate how eager you sound asking. The question is so pressing though. You wish to know so bad why, in what circumstances, Jeon Jungkook gets dumped.

“She-“ There’s a sob he swallows back. “I know what you’ll say,” Your eyebrows dip low on reflex. You couldn’t imagine the reason. He must have really fucked up but Jungkook is not the kind to fuck up. Even when he’s annoying, even when his mindset on something turns a bit auto-centric, he’s too compassionate, he’s too considerate and loving, to suddenly stop wondering how the person facing him is feeling and act without care, hurt them, in any way. It’s just not his kind. So what did he do that even you’ll have a word to say about it. “Spare me because she’s done enough.”

It takes another set of minutes for him to gather himself, find most of his voice back clear enough for you to decipher. You show yourself patient, not saying anything and leaving him all the time that he needs. In all honesty, in the darkness of your curtain closed bedroom, tucked comfortably in your mountain of pillows and blankets, with your phone stuck to your ear and just the quiet sound of his breathing and humming to himself to break the silence, but rock it rather than disturb it, it’s easy to be patient. Feels like an ASMR. A class A type of ASMR, his breathing to your ear could so easily lead you to sleep.

“Yesterday, she came to welcome me back and-“ Rather than hurt, his tone sounds weakened by shame now. What the hell did he do? “She found the- the thing I brought for you today.”

The fucking idiot.

“Oh my God.” You feel instant nausea. It's not like you never thought about it. You wondered, multiple times, if she was aware that her boyfriend was buying you these. You never allowed dipping far in the questioning because what would be the point? Ultimately, it's his relationship. And it's his way of shaping your friendship. If she kept smiling pleasantly, asking politely, as she always would, how you're doing whenever you happened to cross her path, leaving his apartment, or visiting his shop, it was fine by you. It must have been fine by her. She might have known about it, or she might not, didn't really matter. Jeon Jungkook is a grown-ass man, who's allowed to make his own decisions, no matter if they make sense to you, or her, or whoever.

But he's a fucking idiot.

If she didn't know, if he didn't warn her, and now she's mad after learning about it, and he's surprised and he's sad then he's a fucking idiot.

“She asked if it was for her, I wasn’t gonna lie!” Fantastic. He's passed the shock, soaked in wrath now. That was quick.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook!"

"What?" He sounds a bit hysterical on the phone, voice rough and angry, incredulous, even mad that you might suggest he's wrong. Obviously, he already knew you'd react this way, hence the primary warning. "You're my best friend. I get to gift you whatever the fuck I want." He whisper-yells, suddenly very much aware again of the late time and the quiet calmness he'd perturbed. "She-"

"I don't think that's the issue, is it? Did she- Did you tell her that- Like, nothing was up?" You don't know how to articulate what you mean to ask. It sounds so bizarre, so irrealistic, the idea of something romantic or sexual going on between you two. It sounds so ludicrous you can't even say it. And again, you're scared to say the words. You don't know how they'll sound leaving your mouth. Suspicious, maybe revealing.

You owe to ask the question though. Because the cause of the sudden nausea comes from one surprisingly major reason, you would hate for her to hate you. To think of you as the bad guy, the massive bitch who stole her boyfriend. It shouldn't matter but it does.

"What do you mean?"

"That it was just friendly. Did you say that to her?" You stutter, largely on edge.

"Of course, I did." He doesn't seem to notice. Or to pay attention to the, evident to your ear, change in your tone. "She said that it didn't matter." You bite your tongue, along with the couple of words threatening to slide off it. Quite frankly, Jungkook is a weirdo with his own intake on the world surrounding him, she chose to date that special, in a lot of different ways, one, however, you can fairly understand that she wouldn't accept any explanation, of any kind, for this situation. "Do you get that? If she thought I was cheating, I'd understand that she'd be mad but- it's not even the case!"

You try to focus on the essence of the conversation, annihilate the faint words you can read in between the lines. The ones that say that even his girlfriend, in those strange circumstances, couldn't imagine the two of you as more than friends. Just as he couldn't. Just as you can't either.

"She knows and she's still mad. But- I do- I was just curious about it."

"About what?"

"The toys." He pouts, barely articulate like the kid he really is.

"Why didn't you get them for her, then? She's your girlfriend."

There's a pause after your words coming from him.

"She hates those." The pout sounds so thick now, in between the sniffs, you wonder if his mouth won't stay stuck in this position, like a cute permanent raspberry on his cute little dumb face. "I did once and she- threw it in my face and called me a freak."

"Jungkook." You sigh. "That explains a lot, by the way." This comment might be mainly for yourself. He doesn't need an explanation, as it seems. He doesn't seem that troubled about the whole deal, about that new hobby he's picked for himself. But you did. It's hard to simply content yourself with a "well, it is what it is" and nothing more.

He's been curious about them, couldn't buy them for Jiyeun because she wouldn't use them and make him feel guilty about his interest. He's sort of living it by procuration this way.

Now you feel guilty. He can't have found much satisfaction from your reviews if you ever have given him any. And she called him a freak. What a bitch. You wouldn't have imagined that coming from her.

Your mind is a mess.

"And it makes you happy. I see the way-" You hear the friction of tissues, the squeaking of his bed, and the deep sigh that follows when, as you picture, he finds a comfortable position on his back. "You seem much better. Less stressed and-" You cannot deny that. Even though it's partially frustrating, to think that he has this very unpleasant picture of you, of the version of you preceding the very first orgasm brought by him - sort of. You are feeling considerably better. Even if you have to force yourself not to abuse the masturbatory habits, not wishing to turn into a jerk off crazed teen like you once was when your hormones were fucking you up, it helps a lot. Sometimes it's a late-night quickie, other times a longer seance to celebrate the start of the weekend, or find force for the beginning of a new week.

"What was that again? Youthful?" You wonder aloud, an annoyingly amused smile on your face.

"Rejuvenated." He's laughing a bit. And for that, all the turmoil he's been putting you through feels fine and worth it. When you think about the heartbreaking tone of his voice when you first heard it through the phone, it eases an incredibly heavyweight to your heart, enchants you to know that he can still laugh, and you can still be the one reminding him how to. Unfortunately, his heart's just recalled how to hurt and the ache is back as quick as it pretended to leave an instant ago. "She said to never call her again." He confides with a hearable sorrow.

"She didn't mean it." It's surprisingly easy to be a good friend to him. The words you know he needs to hear not even hurting that bad.

"I don't know. We never fought like that before."

"Of course, you didn't. But it's been a year, it ought to happen at some point."

"But if she won't even let me talk to her, how am I supposed to make it better?"

"Be patient and leave her time to cool down." He sighs, already defeated. "Maybe send her a vocal note, she'll listen when she's ready.” They're awfully nice when he sends some to you. “It'll be fine." You're made to be together, probably, you should add. You could add, it might help him immensely, to dry the tears you can picture filling up his eyes. It's a little too much though. You're not that strong of a masochist to force this on you.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Don't worry too much." He can't. His heavy silence precisely screams that. "Do you wanna come to my island? I'll let you run in my flowers if you want."

It makes him laugh once again. The lovely, most satisfying sound to your ear.

"That's sweet of you." And it is, extremely sweet of you. If there's one thing that you despise is him sprinting through the mindfully planted flower beds of your Animal Crossing island. It pisses you off. Even more so when he does it by accident than on purpose, because this shit happens way too often. And now, you're allowing him to do so. You're definitely too good at being his friend. "It's fine though. Turnips sell at 138 on mine if you're interested."

It's your turn to be laughing now. You love how even with his heartbroken, upset and crying, he still picks up his Switch to check where's the turnips' stock at.

"Jungkook." I adore you.

You have for seemingly ever. Since the very first time you met.

You'd never forget it. How you almost passed out from laughing because of the street sign that nearly knocked him unconscious. His forehead was already bruising dark, eyes unfocused and shiny with tears. You didn't mean to laugh but he was adorable and funny, and even if you felt guilty for enjoying it, people don't run their faces into street signs every day. You called it in your own head a miracle.

He had to sit for a little while from how dizzy he felt. His ears were burning with embarrassment too, your uncontrollable giggling not helping. He just sat there, on a bench you had dragged him to, hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatshirt, waiting for you to allow him to leave.

The kid stood unbalanced the four times he tried to walk and even if at eleven, you had nothing close to a doctoral degree, you still felt like it was wrong to just let him stumble his way back home straight away. You had to hold him hostage for a little while. You had shared your homemade cookies with him, the ones you hid deep in your bag for you didn't want anyone to ask for a bite at school. You made him drink the whole content of your water bottle because drinking water is never an unhealthy thing to do, therefore, it felt like a good idea.

He was so shy that your own timidness quieted down enough to allow you to make conversation to him. Or more accurately talk over the silence and distract him. He giggled a lot and smiled with cute bunny teeth. Kept saying thank you for every bit of cookies you'd given him and once you had walked him home and he arrived safe and sound, he bowed very low, apologized and thanked you again.

You thought it'd be the end of it. He pretended to be going to the same school as you but you had never seen him also he was a few years younger.

The next day, and every single day after that, at recess, he would appear out of nowhere. Wearing his adorable smile, and a tint of red on his ears, a bunch of homemade cookies of his own filling up his pockets. As a puppy would, he'd follow you around with a certain distance until you waved him over, rolling your eyes, because if he was going to stick by your side, he might as well actually play with you.

The most precious friendship you have ever experienced bloomed from this seed. A friendship, at the start, mainly based on a shared interest for very sugary treats, marbles, and that common memory of him eating shit in this street sign. You didn't mean to remind him, it made him flush furiously each time and you were not that cruel, but you couldn't help bursting out in laughter whenever you'd walk home -with him or alone- and pass that sign. It's your favourite spot in your home town. You never miss an occasion to take a selfie for him whenever you go to visit your parents.

It's hard to define the moment your feelings, once purely platonic, changed. But there's a memory that feels notably significant.

A guy made you fall. A useless asshole, who in retrospect was not even worth a single crumble of your time. You were confused. As you often get, without really knowing why. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's for everyone the same. People start by being too good in your eyes, too good for you not to give them your all, and maybe build pyramides upon pyramides of expectations.

Until they're not anymore.

Suddenly, they hurt your feelings. They suck ass and you felt so invested emotionally, way too invested for it to be any kind of healthy, and their very human selves harm you straight in the heart, where it is the most painful.

It didn't feel like a mistake this time. Like any of the other times, at the beginning, of course, otherwise, it wouldn't catch you again and again.

You fell hard and it's Jungkook who picked you up. He had cooked for you, one of his mother's infamous recipes because he knew you wouldn't even bother eating otherwise. He had held you close. He had kissed the top of your head, your cheeks and your eyelids when a diehard tear had slipped. He had called you baby and sunshine and his little kitten. Had showered you in an unfamiliar type of loving. Something so soft, so tender and warm. Hands firm when they'd wrapped around you and pulled you in. Fingers gentle when they'd brush the hair out of your face. He took care of you, made you feel good in ways no one has ever had. You had not known him to be like that. Suddenly, he really felt like a man when he touched you, when he talked to you. He wasn't only a dorky little overgrown baby anymore. He was a man, shaped like one but also able to act like one. Able to take care of a woman, please one you were sure of it. And suddenly, you wanted, so desperately, to be that woman. To have the same free access you had on his usual candid-self, on this newly met man.

Of course, it's too ludicrous for you to ever act on it. But deep down, a naive tiny voice kept claiming, in the back of your mind, that you could spoil him. Very few people in this world know him the way you do, surely, no one can please him the way you could.

Guk

She listened to my note!!!

Guk

She said she'll make me miss her a bit more and then she'll call

It took less than a day for her to give him a sign. You're not surprised. It's hard not to miss him. You're not surprised but somehow, still, disappointed.

A/N: tadam!! i needed to include some flashbacks because i know my fellow f2l addicts just adore these, also, i just can’t get over writing kookie as a cute kid.

Guess what guys? there is only one chapter to go *sweats profusely* I- am worried. I hope you keep enjoying it and will enjoy the rest. :] For now, let me know your thoughts. I hope you have a sweet, lazy Sunday and wish you a lovely, peacful week! bises!

As always please ask to be tagged for the final chapter on this post

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #my writing

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syndianites · 3 years

Text

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter One

Current --> Next Chapter!

Summary: Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe's character could have developed]

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The tap tap tap of nails on a desk was all Chloe could think about as she blankly stared at the board in front of her. This all was tiring. Notes were tiring. School was tiring. English was tiring. How could someone be expected to sit still and pay attention to something so boring for hours on end?

Movement in her purse reminded her that it was what good students do. Sit and pay attention. Do their own work. Put in their own effort.

Chloe grit her teeth.

Well it was too hard! Being a better person shouldn’t mean taking notes and being studious in class! It should mean saving people from getting hit by a car, or stopping people from kicking puppies, or having people look to her for inspiration! Not this boring shit.

Surreptitiously, she took a deep breath.

It was all going to be worth it, she reminded herself. If she had to sit still and be a good student and do all her work herself, it would be nothing compared to being a superheroine.

But as she grew more restless, her mind wandered towards what got her into this situation in the first place....

///////

One might have called it a stroke of luck to find a magical item on the sidewalk. Of course, after a day as shitty as that, anything positive would be considered lucky. Such was not the case for Chloe.

She didn’t know what it was at first and had almost passed it by when she second guessed herself. It looked old, but well cared for. Most of all, the box looked priceless and a quick peek into the box showed a luxurious comb.

Her mom had walked away with a dismissive ‘Come along, Cassandra,’ which had her shutting the box and hurrying to not be left behind.

A limo ride later and she found herself back in her room, ignored by her mother and forgotten by her father as he fussed over Audrey. Typical. But sure, her mom furiously turns her dearest Adrien into a gold statue, then does the same to Chloe when she tries to help him!

Chloe pursed her lips. It’s not like Audrey would have remembered how close she was to Adrien after being away for so long. If she had, surely she would have spared poor Adrikins? Her hands tightened into fists.

Except, she was still holding something.

The box with the comb. It had slipped her mind as she’d arrived home. Barely made a dent against the sickening feeling that curled up in her stomach as her mother hemmed and hawed, not sparing even a glance at her daughter she’d betrayed.

Which was fine. She’d been akumatized. Surely the stress and aftermath of being taken into Hawkmoth’s fold would cause her to forget about her beloved daughter. Later, when Audrey had properly taken her wrath out onto the proper people, she would come up and fuss over Chloe and ensure she was alright.

Or she’d send her daddy to do it.

Returning her attention back to the box, she lifted the lid once more. It was a lovely shade of golden yellow, with black detailing. Upon closer look, taking in the fine detail of what seemed to be insect wings, Chloe realized that she was looking at a beautifully crafted bee comb.

She ran a delicate finger on the edge of the comb only to be met with blinding light. Cringing away, she brought her hand up to shield her eyes. When the light dissipated, she glanced up.

The box and comb clattered to the floor.

A bee was floating in front of her.

A bee with a big head, and big eyes, and arms, and a big stinger, and Oh. My. God.

She screamed.

///////

Eyes flicked towards the window to catch the dying rays of dusk. A trembling hand brought a delicate porcelain mug up to a man’s face. He finished off the now lukewarm tea and let it sit for a moment.

Peering into the remains, he observed the major remnants of the tea leaves. Lazy, wavy lines dominated the cup, with a scattering of imperfect triangles. Finally, a grouping of mountains to one side.

Master Fu hummed in thought.

“What do you think of the fate of the Bee, Master?” Wayzz spoke up from where he sipped his own drink.

Turning back to the nearly navy darkness of the sky, Fu replied, “We will have to see, my friend. Only time will tell us now.”

///////

“Please calm down My Queen. Surely Ladybug informed you of what you needed to know?” Pollen reassured quickly. Except, the small being felt something was off. She was floating safely in an apartment with a girl she’d never seen before, no akuma in sight or mind. Her Chosen was clearly surprised to see her.

And there was no Ladybug in sight.

Still, she kept a smile on her face.

“What are you! What do you mean Ladybug told me what I need to know? Wait,” Chloe broke off with a gasp, “Are you how Ladybug gets her powers?”

Ah, a red flag.

Pollen was plenty aware that Ladybug had chosen her to assist in an akuma fight. If she had not been delivered by Ladybug then something must be amiss. For now, she would watch her words carefully.

“No, My Queen. But I am an ally of Ladybug,” Pollen continued. “I am here to help grant another the power to assist Ladybug and Chat Noir in their quest to defeat akumas and stop Hawkmoth.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Does this mean I get to be a superheroine? I knew it! I knew Ladybug would see she needed my help!”

Pollen stopped her there, “On the contrary, My Queen. With Ladybug absent it is my duty to uphold order and ensure you are a good fit to be bestowed my power. Since there is no immediate threat, I see fit to judge your character as you go about your day.”

“What!” The girl griped at her, “Clearly Ladybug knew what she was doing. If you can make me become a superhero I demand you do it!.”

There was a harsh pull in her gut and Pollen fought to bite her words back. She knew she had to obey her holder, but she also knew enough to pull through some loopholes. Poor Nooroo has been stuck in a terrible enslavement for far too long for the rest of the kwami to not prepare for such an occasion.

“You must be a good person to be a superhero, first.” The pull in her gut lessened, but remained. “If you can prove to me you are worthy of holding my power, I will make you a superhero.”

Pollen received a scoff in reply. “I am a good person! Just ask anyone at all. My daddykins always tells me I’m doing good, so why wouldn’t I be?”

The pull began to intensify again. Worry started to drum through her. If Pollen couldn’t convince this person to let her check her history first, she wouldn’t have time to find and return to Ladybug- or, at least, inform Ladybug who possessed her Miraculous.

A low, angry buzz started in her chest. A Queen never let her hive be hurt by her own actions. If she did not stop this girl now, she could harm the rest of her kind, as well as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

And, well, who was she to let that happen.

She faked a sigh, “Yes, of course My Queen. Now listen closely.” Pollen risked floating closer to the girl, who leaned in in response. For a moment, she felt bad. The girl seemed earnest enough, if conceited and arrogant. A good Queen would have these traits in modesty, just enough to benefit and little enough to avoid harm. Then the pull in her gut worsened and she chose to make her move.

With a sweet smile, Pollen leaned forward slowly. Then she turned in a swift movement and struck the poor girl in the junction between her left arm and shoulder. The girl let out a choked screech before her body came to a full stop, paralyzed.

Floating back so that she could be seen in full view, Pollen gave a more genuine smile. “That, my Queen, is one of my powers. Immobilization. Now,” she paused, watching the girl’s eye twitch for a split second. “You will listen to me. My first loyalty is to Ladybug. If you are not fit to be her ally, I will not allow you to use my Miraculous. From what I can tell, you stumbled upon my Miraculous by chance.”

A quiet part of her whispered that Master Fu could have had a hand in this, but she dismissed it.

“Ladybug chose me to help her with the latest akuma, and they are gone. However, I am willing to give you a chance. While I serve both my Master and Ladybug, I am my own being. If you can prove you are good enough to help Ladybug and Chat Noir, I will grant you my power to help them. If not, I will reclaim my Miraculous and return to Ladybug, telling her that you are not fit to wield any such Miraculous.”

Pollen clasped her hands behind her back and puffed up her chest, portraying an image of regality in such a small body. “So I will offer you a deal. You will not ask me to make you into a hero. You will not order me to do anything. Most importantly, you will not reveal me or my Miraculous to anyone other than Ladybug or Chat Noir, or my Master. In return, I will spend time with you to decide whether you are fit to be my holder- and if you are, I will see to it that you are trained and informed as much as I can do for you before you go into the fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir. If at any point you break this deal I will immediately take my Miraculous back and you will never be allowed to see it again.”

She lowered her eyes to look down upon the still frozen girl. “Do you accept the terms of the deal?”

The girl, for her part, didn’t move. Rather, her anger and impetulant thoughts swirled in her head. While Pollen was no Kwami of Emotion or Mind, she could feel her inner chaos. As the girl realized that she would not be set free unless she made the deal, her fire wore down.

Pollen broke out into a smile. She floated forward, ready to let her free of her grasp. This was a risk. If she didn’t accept the deal, this girl could turn the tides on her in an instant. If the girl realized she could command her to do whatever she wanted, it would be over. Just under her display of confidence, fear swam in her stomach.

But she was nothing if not determined. With a tap to the young lady’s face, she was unfrozen.

For a moment, the girl fumbled over her words,” I- you- how did you- how dare you!”

When Pollen pointedly swept down to pick up her Miraculous and floated back, the girl stopped.

In her head, her mind ran on the idea of being a hero. Being beside Ladybug. Being loved by all of Paris. Being good enough for her Mother to remember her name. This was her chance! Her chance to change everything! To prove herself! If she just said yes and passed the stupid little test, she would get to be a hero.

Besides, she could bend and break the deal if she needed to.

Brushing down her capris, the girl stood up straight. With all the dignity she learned from being the child of the mayor, she calmly spoke, “I accept your deal.”

Pollen fought down a crushing smile. Instead, she reached a paw forward to shake on it. The girl, to her credit, only eyed her a moment before giving a finger to shake.

“Excellent. My name is Pollen. For the next twenty-four hours I will be watching you go about your life as normal to determine if you are deserving of my power.”

“Well, Pollen, I am Chloe Bourgeois, Ladybug’s closest ally, I can assure you that you will find nothing but good things about me!”

////////

Above the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, a sleep-deprived girl sat up hastily working through homework as the night ticked on. Perhaps from the late hour, or her finally caving under all the stress of her life, she felt like laughing. Giggles escaped her to the alarm of a sleepy Tikki beside her.

“Marianette, are you okay?” The kwami asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Marianette stifled a laugh. “I just suddenly had the thought that something super funny happened.”

Tikki shook her head disapprovingly. “You need to sleep. Staying up this late is not good for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, “It has been way too long a day after losing the Bee miraculous.”

Tikki patted her shoulder in sympathy as Marianette got up and began her bed routine.

A long day indeed.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #chloe bourgeois #pollen (ladybug)#ml fanfic #ml

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