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#I'm still so far from the person I want to be
midnightcrw · 2 days
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing
a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2
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If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.
And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.
"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.
And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.
"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.
They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.
"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.
"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.
"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.
"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.
When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.
And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."
A little too far back, you thought.
"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.
"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.
You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.
Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.
And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.
At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.
It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.
"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.
"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.
"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.
Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.
And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.
"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.
I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.
"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.
"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.
"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.
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And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.
"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.
"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.
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"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.
"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.
"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.
Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.
Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.
He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.
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"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.
"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.
"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"
A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.
"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"
At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.
"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"
Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.
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And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.
"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.
"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.
"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.
Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.
"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.
"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.
"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.
Fuck... you thought.
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polarisjisung · 2 days
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MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN
synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms
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wc: 1.1k
pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship
genre: fluff
warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)
notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️
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you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.
you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.
just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.
your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.
the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you
there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.
there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.
jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.
"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead
"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile
"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"
"you know it sung"
his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you
"well I'm here now"
jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back
"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head
you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist
"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple
jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes
there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside
you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much
like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm
"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show
"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes
"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation
"you're my girl, of course I do"
this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips
"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you
"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes
"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear
"my boyfriend"
"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him
"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence
"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"
somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.
despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head
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muwapsturniolo · 2 days
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✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯
chris x black earthy/boho!reader
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IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.
WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.
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5 a.m.
It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.
She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.
She found their company relieving.
Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.
She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.
"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.
"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.
She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.
Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.
That's how Chris found her.
He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".
He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.
To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.
Speaking of the boy...
She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"
"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.
She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.
The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.
"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''
"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.
The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.
Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.
"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.
"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.
"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.
The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.
As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.
"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.
"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.
"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.
"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.
"Huh?"
Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."
"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."
Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.
They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.
After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.
"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"
"I get to see Janelle every day!"
"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.
The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.
They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.
"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.
"I love you too"
The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.
The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.
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i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕
TAGLIST 🍑
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wosoamazing · 1 day
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Brunch w/ Steph & Beth
Part 2 - Fire on Fire Series
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From Beth: Good Morning, I know this is late notice and you might be socialised out from last night and probably have things to unpack but we were wondering if you wanted to have brunch with us this morning. I think Steph might join us too if that is okay.
To Beth: Good Morning, that would be nice, could you maybe just come to mine again if that is okay. There are some tradies coming over this morning and so I have to be here from when they get here where I don't know when that will be. I'm up and ready now so any time would work, I could cook something for you all.
From Beth: Oh no, don't be silly, Steph will pick something up from one of the local bakeries on her way over to ours. And then we will come to yours. Any dietary requirements?
To Beth: No, all good and thank you. See you soon.
You looked at the plans your aunts had lying out on the tablet for the workers when they got here, they were turning the theatre room into a home gym/entertainment space, your Moster claiming they decided they needed to be healthier but you knew it way there way of trying to make their home more inviting for you now you were older and keeping you there.
From Beth: Hi again, Steph just arrived, Viv has gone out and so I was just wondering if I could bring Myle our puppy with us, but I understand if it's not okay just thought to ask.
To Beth: Um.. normally I would say yes but I don't exactly know if Myle could come over if the workers will be here. I'm so sorry.
From Beth: No problem at all, we are just about to head to yours now.
You were still going through the look book, viewing all the products your Aunts were putting in both rooms when the doorbell rang, you swiftly moved towards it. You were surprised when you saw Steph and Beth standing in front of the now open door, you thought it would be the builders, they had only just left Beth's house "How are you already here?" "We actually live two streets over so it isn't far at all," you gestured for the two Women to come in.
"Um, we can sit on the couch or the table, I'll just clean all this up," "knock, knock, knock," you heard a man say from the door, turning around to see the builders.
"Oh, um just one second sorry girls, I just need to show them some things," they both nodded saying something along the lines of don't worry, and you quickly showed the builders the theatre and the plans and look book. They had already been given an in depth brief from your Aunt's so it didn't take long.
"I'm so sorry, they are just here to do some work," "Oh no it's totally fine don't worry," The women said as they followed you into the living room.
"I do have a question though," Steph said as you were grabbing some plates, "mmm" "How did you manage to get a place like this?"
"Oh, this isn't mine, it's my Aunt's, they are away for like the next 2 months in Paris, my Aunt is from there." Steph nodded as Beth was looking around at some pictures.
"Is this you or..." She said as she looked at a photo from one of your school events, "yeah it's me, they are all of me," you replied.
"Wow, that's insane, I think there are more photos of you in their house than the amount of photos my parents have of my brother and I in our home. Did you see them a lot?" She asked, meaning no harm, you knew the question would come eventually, you just didn't think it would be so soon.
"Um, yeah, I guess you could put it that way, this is technically my childhood home. When I moved out of my parents home I moved into this home with my Aunts, but we were only here for around 6 months before we moved to Australia. So technically the home we have in Melbourne is my childhood home but as this was well I guess is, the main home all the photos and trophies and everything else got moved into this house,"
"Oh, why did you move out of your parents home? Sorry that sounded a bit insensitive, you don't have to answer," "Oh no, it's okay I don't mind, I-" you were interrupted by another person at the door, they handed you a massive bouquet of flowers and as you brought them into the house and set them on the coffee room table, both girls looked at them.
"Wow, secret admirer, Leah is going all out," Beth cheeked as you looked at the gift tag, letting out a knowing sigh as you read the names.
"Of course, giving me somewhere to stay and building me a gym with some entertainment stuff too isn't enough," you lean back on the couch, before looking over to Beth.
"Wait, what did you say that about Leah? Do you think she likes me?" You asked curiously.
"By the way she looked at you when you walked into the locker room, I would say she has a crush on you" she said quite seriously, you let out a small 'oh' and both of them looked at each other, before continuing on with the conversation, changing topics.
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fraugwinska · 18 hours
Note
I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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songsofadelaide · 1 day
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Satoru loves having you around whenever he visits Megumi and Tsumiki in their apartment. The kids adore you more than they let on, after all. He loves the fact that they quickly warmed up to you, especially Megumi, who's known to be such a prickly child.
But what Satoru loves the most is having you all to himself without the school's watchful eyes on you both. He admits that he gets a little handsy when it's just the two of you on a mission together, not that you ever really minded since you loved him so much.
You were fixing Megumi's bedroom when Satoru slinked over and winked at you. He raised a finger to his lips, beckoning you to maintain your silence as he coiled his arms around you and drew you into a warm kiss.
And you nearly lost yourself in that kiss, too, your own arms wrapping around his neck—
"Gojo-san, I need your help."
If there was a world record for dismantling a kiss, you'd probably set the record. You couldn't help but look down at your lap in embarrassment while Satoru rose from his seat across you to approach Megumi, whose hand was still on his door.
"What do you need help with?"
"Why is your face all red?" Came the question from the young boy. You couldn't see his face but you knew from the sound of his voice that he must have a little grimace on. "Please don't do any perverted stuff in my room."
"Okay, that's enough, wise guy. Why don't we..." Satoru stated as he closed the door behind him, the click of the doorknob resonating in the room. In your hands was one of Megumi's half-folded shirts and oh, my gosh, what was I thinking? Was I really about to make out with Satoru here? In Megumi's bedroom?!
When you visited the following week, Megumi was helping you fold his clothes in his room this time, a rather pensive expression on his face as he asked you, "Do you two always do that?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Kissing."
That wasn't exactly the most surprising question. Megumi has always been a precocious child who knew far too much for his young age. "O-Oh, well... Not really always. Satoru was just being silly, for the most part."
The blue-eyed boy cocked his head as he turned to you. "And you don't do it with other people?"
"No, I don't. I can only kiss Satoru because he's my most favourite person in the world," you replied to his question with a little shake of your head and a small smile on your face. "I'm sure you'll find that person, too, Megumi-kun. The one you'll want to kiss forever. Perhaps not now, but sometime in the future."
The two of you looked up in surprise when you heard the bedroom door creak open but no one was there.
Satoru had a strange spring in his step on your way back to campus. He held your hand, his grip both tight and tender, and you curled your fingers around his digits to hold him right back.
An excited grin made its way to your lips as you spotted the familiar glint of light from a convenience store. "Oh, Toru, while we're here, do you think I can grab some snacks to share with Shoko, Kento and Kiy—"
As you turned your face in his direction, you were met with his lips suddenly on yours and very little resistance to your favour.
"T-Toru!—"
Satoru stole the grin from your face, his eyes concealed under his sunglasses but you knew exactly how they vanished into his smile. "Grab whatever you want, it's on me. Anything for my most favourite person in the world."
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15. "I'll keep kissing you." "Until you're sick of it?" "Until I can't think of anything else but you." For Gojo? Like s/o was feeling insecure if he really wants to date her but this is how he reassures her that he loves her dearly?
Quite The Romantics {Gojo Satoru}
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A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like the outcome
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem! reader
Trigger warnings: mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and overall angst, implied sexual activity
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Being in a relationship with the strongest sorcerer alive was easy. The late night calls that signalled missions, him worrying about his students, the higher ups... everything was manageable. It helped that you were also a sorcerer so you knew what the dangers were and Gojo didn't have to keep things a secret in order to protect you.
Being in a relationship with the most handsome man you've ever seen was not easy. It had been a mutual agreement to keep things lowkey and so far it had been fine. The students knew about you two and they were fully supportive and excited when they saw the two of you together inside the school grounds but things were not so simple outside of campus.
Gojo and you didn't share a home, yet at least since he had been pestering you for a month to move in with him; having a huge and luxurious apartment always had its perks. So when it came to dates there were only two options: either Gojo would pick you up or you would meet him at the date spot.
With your line of work, the latter was what usually worked best.
Tonight's date had been marvellous. From the food to the music to the view, you had to hand it to him; Gojo Satoru had taste. And even after the date, when the two of you returned to his place... everything was perfect. Perfect apart from one thing.
"Where's your little mind travelling?" Gojo returned from the bathroom, grey sweatpants on and a white towel on his head. The usual scent of sex had now been replaced by the smell of his body lotion and shampoo: roses.
You were a little hesitant to reply and in your mind it was only natural. Who wouldn't be nervous when the love of their life was asking them what is going?
"Oh no!" He plopped next to you on the bed, a small smirk on his face. "Can I guess?" He nuzzled his face in the crook of your head, his arm already wrapped around your waist.
"Go on." You sighed and turned on your side, facing him. Something about the way he hugged you felt comforting and you knew he knew it. It was a small trick Gojo always had up his sleeve that not even he knew how he had found out.
"Is it about the girl that came up to me while I was waiting for you at the restaurant? Don't be shy with me honey." He giggled. That bastard knew what he was doing and your silence wasn't helping your case. "I knew it." He pulled away from you with a smile.
You didn't want to admit it. Mostly because you were confident in yourself and in your relationship with him. But there were times when you could see other people flirting with him and something in you broke. You weren't nearly as confident as him, nor that much of an outgoing person and your ego was in normal levels. So what was stopping him from breaking up with you to find someone else?
Being in a relationship with Gojo Satoru only had perks. Gojo knew you better than anyone. He knew how to make you laugh, how to make you moan, how to make you stop crying. He also knew how to touch and kiss you.
"What are you doing?" You tried pushing him away but he was strong and he wasn't letting go of you. Pushing him away, especially when laughing at the same time, was never easy and you knew it, but you still did it anyway. Not because you wanted him away from you but because you wanted to piss him off.
"I'm kissing you." He laughed, placing another small peck on your collarbone before travelling up to your neck and then your cheeks and then your mouth.
"Haven't you kissed me enough already?"
"I'll keep doing it, I don't care."
"Until you're sick of it?"
"Until I know you know I can't think of anything else but you."
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eskir · 1 day
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pining from a glided cage - sunday x reader
he watches you with a dull ache in his chest and handcuffs to duty - unrequited love on sunday's part
wc: 808 a/n talks: soft sunday w/angst :D got the idea from @eternity-death and i vibed with it a lot. also i'm proud of my first tag (please say yes)
Penacony can only be called the land of dreams, for the sole reason that it is in ones dreams. It will never be the land of fulfilled dreams, never the land where wishes come to fruition. Because even as life slumbers, nightmares run amok and bitter pieces of reality infest dreams, leaving the conscious person choking and gasping for breath.
But Sunday cannot awaken from the dream, so he is left watching you with an impassive face and hidden heart pains from a glided view. He loves you. He cannot say the words that dare to burst from his traitorous lips, nor can he express the sweet pains that reside in his chest. He is an administrator, the head of the Oak family, and he is bound by decorum, order, and the rules imposed upon him by the Dreammaster. He lacks control, so he craves it in everything he can hold in the palm of his insignificant hand. He is bound to Penacony, and he realizes that Robin, his dear sister, spoke uncomfortably bitter truth.
"Brother, I am leaving Penacony. A lavish yet empty cage that I have to leave, but I will miss it nevertheless. I hope you make it out of there, or at the very least, walk in reality."
But he cannot bear to leave Penacony, not when so much is expected of him as the head, not when the Dreammaster oversees almost every move of his, not when you reside in the place he can only call a home because of you.
For if you were no longer in Penacony, he would have nothing joyous holding him back. He would languish apathetically for all the Golden Hours, unable to pursue his dreams. So he makes sure to cherish the moments he has with you, knowing that you could leave at any moment like Robin did.
(he'll hold onto you with a tight desperate grip that he knows is unacceptable. he doesn't want to lose anyone else that's important to him. and even though robin is still alive, she is too far away and the presence of her letters only tears his heart up more.)
So whenever you visit him, bringing sweet treats that you know he'll like, talking about parts of your life, Sunday will listen. He always listens with that soft gaze that could almost make you believe that he is in love with you. He is, but that is a point you'll never acknowledge or realize. Sunday knows that, he can tell when you talk about someone you are clearly enamored with.
He's listened to you for a long enough time that he knows your tells. So when you talk about someone else that isn't him in a romantic light, he freezes. His smile becomes a little more forced, and he closes his eyes to hide the uncomfortable emotions that are swirling in them. In those moments, he misses you. Even though you are right in front of him, he aches for the old you and for Robin. You three would just run throughout the Dreamscape with no worries as children. He misses you even though you're right in front of him. He aches to reach out for your face and kiss your forehead gently.
But he can't, he has to restrain himself from any action that could be misconstrued as affectionate. He cannot do anything but drown in his emotions because that is what the Dreammaster ordered of him. The Dreammaster disapproves of him acting on his feelings because he must 'act accordingly' and 'not be distracted from his duties'. It's suffocating that he cannot reach out for your hand or your kind touch.
(he just craves you. he craves your presence and smile. he'd never have either of the two if you weren't close friends, but the proximity to you just makes his heart ache even more. he lets you touch his wings, even though he knows you only love him as a friend. he lets you, enjoys it even, with you play with his hair, commenting on how soft it is. he wishes that it was because you truly did love him, but it's just how you are, naturally affectionate. so he feigns the neutrality of a long term friend.)
So he smiles whenever you met up. His eyes always light up when you bring new sweet treats and you always laugh at his expression good-naturedly. It's a comfortable relationship that the two of you have, and when night falls, he'll always wish for your happiness.
(he just wishes that you'll never fall in love with anyone but him. he wishes that you won't fall in love with him because he cannot love you back and he doesn't want to reject you.)
Just like Robin, you are a star that he revolves around, never getting closer or further away.
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otdiaftg · 23 hours
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WHAT'S NEXT:
The out pouring of love for this blog has swept me off my feet. I knew the logic behind the follower count, but this weekend proved to me without a shadow of a doubt just how much this fandom cherishes these characters and this story.
I am overwhelmed with adoration towards every. single. one. of you.
I took the weekend to finally recoup after the whirlwind of this past year but wanted to take a moment now to answer some of the questions I've seen pop up and to inform you all of what my plans are for what's next.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:
WILL YOU CONTINUE THE ACCOUNT THIS YEAR?
This took me a long time to ponder and I wanted to make sure I was in the correct headspace to answer it. Short answer: No.
Long answer: All For The Game is near and dear to my heart. And the reason I began this account was because the dates for 2023 matched that of the dates they were meant to be in 2006. To continue it in the year 2024 would mean the dates would be completely wrong and a lot more logistics would have to occur beforehand.
But also-- I'm not the best when it comes to technology, especially when it comes to BOTS so every post that was published was typed out, formatted and scheduled by hand by me. I did not have help. I did not have proofreaders, or editors, or managers. I contacted all the artists myself, sorted through every single page of the artists to find matches to the story, read and re-read the books for exact or guesstimation of dates/times, and made a hell of a lot of typos on the way through all that.
There was probably an easier way that I could have done all this. But I didn't/don't know it. So that all boils down to: It’s a long and tiring process.
Don't get me wrong, it was worth all the hours. And all the sleepless nights I had getting everything done and out. I already thanked my support network, but without my wife and my best friend being there to make me another cup of coffee, walk our dog, do the chores and generally make sure I didn't crumble from the pressure -- none of this would have happened.
So, putting myself through that again, after everything that has happened this year alone-- felt like it would cheapen the experience I had when the dates won't even match.
That being said.... 2034 isn't that far away. >__>
WILL YOU BE DOING AN OTDITSC?
Short answer: No.... sorry.
Long answer: As stated, it is VERY hard to organize what and how I did. HOURS spent researching, organizing, scheduling, etc. Time spent away from my family and other hobbies. NOT time I regret (need to keep prefacing that) but time I want back now. At least for a little bit.
It also doesn't sit right for me to start an OTDITSC when I know some people are still waiting for their copies. There are so many of us out here (as I've come to find out) and I don't want to exclude people's enjoyment and connection that this account gives. I also feel like the more posts about TSC out there, the harder it is for those who are (lets say) waiting for the physical copies to block/mute spoilers. We can say a tag is enough, but this is the internet. And that's not always true.
And lastly, personally, TSC is still SO VERY NEW. It's not even complete yet and we don't 100% know when the next one will be published. I don't want to start something, get to the end of the timeline, and than have a huge gap between posts that will potentially be moments in the second book. It doesn't feel fair to their story, to myself, or to the followers of this account to have incorrect information for something I love so dearly. If I'm doing it. I want to do it right.
SO, WHAT'S NEXT?
Well. A lot. For me personally, as well as this account. I don't want to leave everyone in such a finite way. I love this fandom. I love its art and writings and the abundance of talent and joy that it exudes.
So first, for myself, as well as those artists who agreed to help with this account, I want to post, for the next 40 days Artist Highlights (that means this account will still be active until Friday, May 24th).
Every day, I will post about an Artist and the work that I wanted to post but couldn't fit in. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these artists are the reason this account thrives. Art, in a multitude of forms, speaks in a way words can not. And these artists prove that.
I'm excited to show them off for a couple more weeks at least. They are all wonderful people.
AND, FINALLY:
To also tie us over, I am opening both my personal account as well as this account to questions.
Questions regarding the process, the story, the best movie out in theaters, whatever. I will be answering your questions (as fast as I can) until that last Artists Highlight day (Friday, May 24th). After this day, I will leave the questions answered up for a week, and then remove/delete them from this account. I want to make this more of an archive of sorts and will be updating the Timeline Page as this progresses as well, so you can move freely within the timeline.
Keep in mind that I am only one person, have a family and a full-time job-- so answers may be sporadic, but I will answer them.
This has truly been such a pleasure. And whether I get questions or not, I see you and I appreciate you. I hope your life is filled with everything you ever want, everything you need, and that you never let it go.
🦊 🧡- Kelysium
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hearts4golbach · 2 days
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HI POOKS LOVE YOUR WORK, maybe a Johnnie fic where he shows fem!reader how to play guitar, and lead to some smut (if you're comfortable with it ofc) THANKS HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT
The Fretting Hand.
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Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
a/n: I read this request sooo wrong, but it's still relatively the same idea. I'm so sorry 😭
warnings: smut, fingering, bickering, enemies to lovers kinda, (only y/n receiving)
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Jake: "They say you should never have wings on the first date with a girl."
Johnnie: "That's true because when you're gonna go finger -"
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the strumming of Johnnies' guitar was incessant. jakes snores weren't favorable conditions either. but you let him have a pass cause he was actually a decent person. johnnie, on the other hand, was far from even being your friend.
you put on a fake smile and maintained a friendship on camera, but off camera, it was constant bickering. you two couldn't stand each other. it was funny. Your annoyance with each other had no motive behind it. to be fair, it was everything about him. his face made you angry just to look at. of course, you thought he was the finest man you had ever seen, but he still irritated the hell out of you.
scrolling on the internet wasn't helping. most nights, you could block out all of the excess noise just fine. tonight was way different. you tossed and turned, trying to at least find a more comfortable angle. you never usually stayed up past 11, which was the time, because of your busy schedule. you groaned quietly into your pillow before getting up out of your bed.
you wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it before reusing the bottle and filling it up in the sink.
even downstairs, you could still hear johnnie screwing around on his guitar. you'd admit, johnnie was a talented guy, but seriously? at 11 pm? you couldn't stand it.
you stomped up the stairs into his room. you knocked twice before throwing open the door. "do you ever know when to shut the fuck up? I haven't been able to sleep at all." you scolded, even though you knew your restlessness wasn't his fault.
your eyes wandered down to his hand that was still placed on the fret board. his middle and ring fingers were placed in a certain chord formation, which just so happened to flaunt the veins and tattoos on his hand.
"My bad." johnnie responded. he noticed your eyes wandering before glancing down at his hand himself. "What?"
"Nothing, just -" you struggled to find the words, your mind corrupted with other thoughts. you felt your face begin to heat up. "Just be quiet."
his lip twitched into a smirk. he placed his guitar down back onto the stand. "Are you sure that's all you came in here for?"
you hesitated before nodding. the cat has definitely got your tongue now. you wanted to turn to leave, but you were frozen. the low light of his lamp mixed with the full moon in the sky was playing tricks on your mind. there was no way you'd actually fuc-
"y/n?" johnnie snapped his fingers. God, his fingers.
"Yeah, sorry." You took a step back before glancing towards the door.
his eyebrows furrowed together. "You've never apologized to me before." he chuckled, "seriously, what's up?" heat had slowly been growing between your legs. johnnie stood up and walked over to you. you were face to face now, and it was almost guaranteed he could see your beet red face. "well? if you've got another problem, fucking spit it out."
you realized quickly this was about to go in a completely different direction. "make me."
"yeah? i bet you'd like that," his palm met your cheek, pulling your plump bottom lip down with his thumb. he took a step forward as you stumbled back, your back hitting the wall.
"and i bet you would even more." and with that, he smashed his lips against yours.
you absolutely hated how soft his lips were. the kiss was rough and needy, and your teeth clashed against his occasionally. your hands clawed at his shoulders, digging your fingers into him. he quietly moaned against your lips, the feeling of pain sending adrenaline throughout his veins. he needed you, and you needed him just the same.
he wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your needy cunt into his growing boner. Johnnies hands trailed up your thighs and gripped your ass, digging his fingers in so hard you figured there'd be bruises in the morning.
"God, always so fucking needy." he spat. you grabbed his chain and pulled him in again, crashing your lips onto his.
he laid you back on the bed, crawling in between your legs and hovering over you. "I bet you've wanted to see me like this for so long." you teased, trying to get a rise out of him.
he rolled his eyes, flipping his messy hair out of the way. "I could say the same for you. don't act like I can't hear those pretty moans late at night. sometimes I even hear my name. I'm not deaf, fucking slut."
you were gagged, not knowing a rebuttal to that comment. instead, you kissed him again.
his hands trailed down your body, playing with the waist band of your pajama pants. he quickly pulled them off, tossing them on the floor next to the bed.
your purple lace panties hugged your hips and ass perfectly, making him shudder at the sight. his hand moved to your clothed clit. he applied pressure, making you wince as you bucked your hips up into his hand.
"so fucking soaked. shit," he whispered, pulling your underwear down and tossing them on top of your pajama pants.
his hand collected your slick as he rubbed his fingers through your folds gently. you quietly moaned under his touch.
"you wanna tell me now? only good girls get what they want." he whispered in your ear, nipping at your neck.
"please, fuck," you pleaded, bucking up onto his hand again. "your fingers,"
he dipped his middle finger inside of you, just barely thrusting inside. "what about them?"
your hand slapped over your mouth as you moaned at the sudden feeling inside of you. "The way you play the guitar. God, it's so fucking h-hot." you said breathlessly, "please, johnnie."
he slipped his ring finger inside of you, quickening the pace. "What makes you even think you deserve this, huh?" Both his fingers were all the way inside of you.
"shit, please. don't be a bitch." you mustered the strength to insult him back. it turned Johnnie on more than you could even imagine.
"I'm not the one who treats you like a dog, am i?" he sped up his pace, spreading your legs wider. "maybe I can fuck some common sense into you."
your back arched, "shit, then maybe don't act like one."
"you're so fucking insufferable. maybe this will bring you back to reality." he curled his fingers as your walls squeezed him. "you know what I think? I think you act that way because of how badly you want me, you just don't wanna admit it."
you let out a low moan, trying to catch your breath. "in your wildest dreams."
"and if you didn't, we wouldn't be here right now. and you wouldn't be squeezing my fingers like this." his other thumb moved to your sensitive nub, rubbing it to match the pace of his fingers. "why don't you just admit it?"
"fuck you." you spat between moans.
"I'm sure you would." he sped up his pace even more, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a relentless pace. "prove to me you deserve to cum, or you're going back to your fucking room. if I even fucking hear you finishing, it won't be good."
he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you on the edge. you wiped sweat off your forehead as you whimpered. "fucking fuck. okay fine. you're right. God, I've wanted you for so fucking long." you replied breathlessly. "please, johnnie. I'll be good from now on. just let me-"
his fingers entered your tight pussy again, making you moan loudly. his thrusts were relentless, curling his fingers at the perfect spot inside of you. you writhed under his touch, endless strings of curses and moans came out of your mouth.
"I've wanted you since I first saw you." he admitted, "but you were such a fucking bitch. it turned me on, though. I'm not really complaining." he added pressure to your clit on top of everything else.
he kissed your inner thighs as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten. "johnnie, I'm gonna cum-"
"let go, baby." he wet noises of his fingers inside of you filled the room, along with your moans.
your climax hit you like a truck. your legs quaked as Johnnie helped you ride out your high. you went limp on his bed, breathing heavily. he laid next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.
whenever you had recovered, you rolled over and climbed on top of him. "your turn."
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keen-li · 19 hours
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What you need | 02
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synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? do you even know what you need.
Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.
jungkook x reader.
prev | next
-
'’I’ve been in Seoul for a week now’’ he says hand in pocket, and tall figure towering over you as you just stand there.
‘’oh,’’ you say not knowing what else you could add. Namjoon’s aura is quite intimidating for you.
‘’I’m sorry I delayed your flight though.’’
The awkward smile you’ve got on your face makes him chuckle.
You take the time during his smile to admire the little dents on both his cheeks. You’ve never seen a man with dimples. Or maybe you're just paying too much attention to namjoon's face.
‘’That's alright yn’’ The way he says your name has a little more essence than the way others say it. ‘’I hope you enjoyed your lunch at least’’
You smile at the thought of lunchtime with jungkook. You enjoyed yourself and had your first full meal. Which you’re glad about.
You don't know if it will happen again it jungkook isn't around to force feed you.
‘’yeah I did’’ you smile and Namjoon can tell you’re not smiling at him.
‘’is it a boyfriend?’’ he asks walking on eggshells.
You internally scoff.
‘’that’s personal, don’t you think’’ you say knowing jungkook is far from your boyfriend. But it is personal for him to stick his nose in.
‘’you’re right, I apologize’’ he says, ‘’ I'm overstepping’’ You don't reply instead just let the silence sink in. You think you've indulged in personal conversation for too long. You never go past hi's and hellos when with make customers and neither do you spend so much time admiring their faces, but here you.
‘’what car do you have in mind’’ you change the topic and get to working. You’re not going to get yourself into personal conversations with a client. Last thing you need is more men on your plate.
‘’honestly, all of them’’
You know people like Namjoon, have too much cash and don’t know where to spend it and want to show it off (softly of course)
‘’wow, that’s a lot. Giving me a run for my money’’ you scoff
Namjoon shows you his dimples once more. You walk forward to the first car and Namjoon’s eyes follow your figure.
‘’I think you can handle it’’
-
‘’sorry I'm late’’ You walk to the booth jimin, willoe, and jungkook are sat at. All eyes are on you as you try and calm your breathing.
‘’what happened to you? ’’ willoe spits out eyeing you in concern as you breathe like you’ve got asthma.
‘’got off at the wrong stop and had to power walk here’’ you puff out. Jungkook moves out of the way so you can sit by the window and opposite facing willoe.
‘’you walked? What happened to your car’’ jimin asks staring at you even more concerned. You can see from the look on his face that he’s worried about you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since your phone call. So he takes the time to analyze you.
‘’My car’s in the shop’’ Immediately you say it Jungkook’s eyebrows go up and he turns to face you. You bite your lip and avoid his eyes knowing what’s on his mind after your words.
You fight the urge to laugh nervously.
‘’That’s what happens when you don’t drive it.” Willoe spits out munching on some cheese sticks.
‘’I did drive it’’ for like a week, you honestly don’t even know why you bought the car if you weren’t willing to start driving it. You kinda place the blame on the fact that you recently got your license and are still shit scared of the road. Jungkook offers to help you get comfortable but you always procrastinate.
‘’what shop’s your car in?’’ jungkook eyes you warningly as his tongue grazes his inner cheek. He’s asking to provoke an answer.
‘’just some shop near work’’ You avoid long eye contact cause you know he’s probably feeling some way about it and you don’t want to face it.
‘’you didn’t tell me about it?’’ his words come out like a silent fire and everybody else at the table can feel the heat. So, willoe and Jimin ignore as they look at each other and speak with they’re eyes.
‘’yeah. I saw you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you’’ you spit out a little harsh. You understand what’s got his mood changed but you don't think it’s that big of a deal. You took your car to another auto repair shop, so what? ‘’it’s not that big of a deal kook’’ your words leave you mouth too quick for your liking.
‘’yeah you're right it’s not’’ his tone says otherwise. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being. He can get childish sometimes over nothing and it bugs you.
‘’okay how has everyone been’’ willoe chimes in to change the air and you couldn’t be happier. But you were gonna have to talk about it later anyways.
-
‘’Now that the house is sold I have less work on my plate. Cause that house was impossible to sell’’ She exaggerates her tone and emphasizes how hard it was.
‘’That's great babe, I'm happy for you’’ Jimin rubs his hand on her thigh.
‘’thanks’’ she replies blush on her cheeks.
‘’how about you yn, how’s work?’’ she turns to you, who's mind is so far away.
‘’as horrible as ever but at least I just got a really big client’’ you adjust in your seat.
‘’ou, who?’’ willoe puts her elbows on the table.
‘’just some entrepreneur. I think he lives in France or something’’ you state like it’s nothing.
‘’he?’’ you can see the tease in Jimin’s eyes.
‘’please shut up jimin’’ You roll your eyes and scoff.
‘’what did i do?’’ he shrugs his shoulders amusingly.
‘’I thought you only worked with women?’’ jungkook decides to finally speak to you and it’s nothing more than a shallow inquiry.
‘’It’s not that I only work with women, it’s just that I prefer them over men.” You the words come out a little sharp and bored. You bite awkwardly into your cheese stick.
Jungkook hums.
‘’I know you want to say something’’ you turn back you Jimin as jungkook goes back to being silent after having his query's answered
‘’nope,’’ he shakes his head childishly.
‘’say it’’ you narrow your eyes.
‘’Nothing. Just be careful with these entrepreneurs from Europe’’
‘’why? He’s Korean though’’ you defend.
‘’doesn’t change a thing’’ willoe adds, she’s always on Jimin’s side. That’s what happens when in a debate with a couple.
‘’Their favourite thing is to prey on girls from here and promise them a fantasy’’ jungkook spits out. You can’t believe he’s still sulking.
You look at them as they seem to agree with each other. Why do they always act like they know better than you?
‘’you guys are being so dramatic. I'm not even interested in him like that’’ you insist ‘’plus I promised myself to never date again’’ you say like a vow and jungkook’s heart throbs in his throat.
‘’Whatever, I hope you just stick to your word’’ Jimin mutters with a cheeky smirk pasted on his face.
‘’yeah I will’’ your mood goes down a bit. You will prove them wrong.
You watch the waiter put the food down on your table and willoe is almost drooling.
‘’you’re gonna droll all over the table, babe’’ you hear jimin mock her before she lands a gentle smack on his shoulder and a soft mumble of words leave her mouth.
You turn to stare at jungkook to see if he’s still sulking. He is. You frown at how distant you feel from him when he’s like this.
You’re busy talking about your week and just some funny moments.
You watch willoe and Jimin bicker and it makes you smile at how cute they are.
You’re smiling when you turn to look at jungkook again. Your smile drops when you watch how silent he is and how he hasn’t touched his food.
‘’you okay?’’ he doesn’t seem to catch what you say immediately but when he does his smile and reassurance are unconvincing.
You don't poke more at it. He can’t be seriously this moody over you taking your car else where.
You're forced to stare out the window cause of the awkward silence in Jungkook’s car. The whisper of the wind the only conversation going on.
You haven’t spoken since you left the restaurant. You don’t want to nag him but you’re just worried he’s upset about the car thing when you didn’t mean to make him feel bad.
‘’kook’’ you speak so softly and unsurely you almost think he doesn’t hear. But the hard hum he releases lets you know he’s heard you. Now that you have the floor you wonder if you should even ask, you don't want to irritate him.
‘’Are you mad?’’ he raises his brow at you but still stares at the road. ‘’about the car thing’’
‘’I'm not mad’’ his tone says otherwise.
He takes a turn.
‘’it doesn’t seem that way’’ you ease in more.
‘’well I'm not’’ It comes out sharp and angry causing you to raise your brows ‘’Sorry’’ he murmurs out.
‘’I never meant to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t want to bother you with my junkie car’’ Your car was far from junkie but you’re just spitting out rubbish to ease the tension.
‘’it wouldn’t be a bother’’ he takes another turn. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does cause he’s not really mad, he just has this dull achy feeling in his chest and he doesn’t know why it’s there. But it’s there and making its existence known.
‘’I know, but I’ve seen you. You’ve got so much on your plate’’
You are right.
‘’I know but I just wished you’d told me, I could’ve recommended somebody I know’’
Why jungkook prefers you go to him about car issues is because he knows how some other auto repair shops work. They see women and find an opportunity to swindle. He believes he’s told you enough about it. But he still worries and prefers you tell him and he deals with it.
He pulls over at a red light.
‘’I’m sorry’’ you say taking a risk and bringing your hand into his free one, while the other stays on the wheel. Your body shivers at his warm hold which is contrary to your freezing ones.
You bring his hand to your lips to place a peck on it, just for fun and to catch his reaction. Jungkook crunches his face at the action, not that he minds but it just feels weird.
‘’don’t kiss my hand’’ he chuckles out. Then he interlocks your fingers together.
In your friendship you’ve become comfortable with this little holds and touches, so nothing feels weird about this. Just comforting.
‘’why?’’ you question with a huge teasing smile on your face.
‘’cause I'm the one who should be kissing yours’’
You watch him pull your hand to his lips. With his eyes locked on yours, he places a tender kiss on the skin.
The action soothes the ache in Jungkook’s heart, slightly. It brings some form of comfort to him.
You smile when he pulls his lips away, you can feel his lips still tingle on your skin.
You don’t know what to do but smile. At least he doesn’t seem to be mad.
The green light causes him to pull his eyes back to the road.
You try to pull your hand away from his so that it’s easier for him to drive. But his grip tightens around your hand, you raise a brow at him confused.
‘’ your hands are cold, I’m just warming them’’ he smirks and his thump caresses your skin.
--
‘’you don't wanna come up?’’ you lean against the window and wait for his response. ‘’I have banana milk?’’ you bribe.
He sucks air between his teeth ‘’it’s tempting, but I can't’’
‘’Maybe next time?’’ he bargains and you nod.
‘’yeah sure’’ you back away from his car.
‘’I’ll call you though’’ he says before he drives away, almost reluctantly. He watches you figure through the side mirror and watch his car disappear. The sad look on your face makes jungkook want to turn around.
But its not a sad look, more of a ‘I’m grateful to have you as a friend’ look.
When you’re back in your apartment and into your warm comfy bed. You throw your coat somewhere on the floor and make a mental note to pick it up soon, it was too expensive to throwing on the floor. But you’re exhausted.
Your mind slowly and unintentionally slips to the moment and feeling of jungkook holding your hand. You’ve held hands before but in the car, it felt...
In that moment for the first time, you never thought of yunho.
Ring, ring.
You groan when you hear your phone ring. It could be willoe cause she promised to call when she got home, but knowing willoe she’d never call cause she would forget to. Or it could even be jungkook. Your heart jumps at the thought.
Your smile drops and you let the phone ring to voicemail when you see the name that’s there. Unchanged still saved with the red heart and teddy bear emoji. You wonder why you never deleted it.
That sick and horrible feeling returns when you see the text that follows up on your screen.
Yunnie: I know you probably don't wanna talk to me, but I really wanted to hear your voice.
Yunnie: I've missed you.
Yunnie: are you free this weekend, I wanna talk things out.
You have a mix of emotions going through you and you can’t think. You could honestly throw up. Why the fuck is he texting you and why the fuck do you feel your heart pound.
The feeling gets even worse when a message from jungkook pops up and you open his chat.
[image]
Kook: goodnight bunny, <3
The picture of him on his couch with his black t-shirt and pajamas on and bunny smile in view causes you to smile. It almost makes you forget your dilemma for a second.
You: goodnight kook <3
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dfortrafalgar · 15 hours
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Looooooved ILY! Kudos! It was chair-gripping, tear drenching, rot your teeth fluffy and a bunch of other things in between! Brava! 🥰
If you're still accepting requests (I don't know if you have already been flooded by messages or not) I would like a story about being part of the Kid Pirates but reader is in a really sour mood because it's the anniversary of readers's parents death (you can make up a story if you'd like) and reader disobeys a direct order from him and, to top it off, reader talks back at him in front of the crew, earning the reader a severe punishment (up to you). Eventually Kid finds out why reader's mood is so sour and tries to talk it out except Kid can't be soft and that just makes things more awkward. Could be SFW, could be NSFW, I'm leaving all this up to you. And the ending as well because I only got that far. I hope you like the idea and get excited.
I love your work! ❤️🥰 Thank you for sharing your talent.
HI ANON!!! thank you so much for your request and your super kind words over IMLY, that means so much to me!!!! i know i keep saying this but yall make me smile every single day when i log onto tumblr and see your messages <3
I also really loved writing this request! i really love Kid, but i also wanna kick his ass on the playground if that makes sense, and i think that sentiment came through in my writing ;w; I hope you like it!!! and thank you again!!! (Also, i kept the reason for your parents' death ambiguous, because i know some people (myself included) read fics with their ocs in mind, so you're free to fill in the vagueness with your own personal ideas if you want!)
Feeling Overhaul
Eustass Kid x Fem Reader
The anniversary of your parents' death always leaves you feeling shallow, but your boyfriend's lack of social and situational awareness crops up to make your day even worse.
Warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, reader being understandably upset, descriptions of an argument with some veeeeery slight verbal abuse, once again hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort. communication is key loves
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Your sour mood had been steadily building over the last few days, but your sorrow reached its peak on the last day of the week, according to the barely legible crew calendar that was based off of when the messenger coos arrived with the weekly paper.  It was a day you despised thinking about, the memories associated with the day leaving your throat tight, an uncomfortable malaise in the pit of your stomach.
All things considered, you thought you were doing a decent job at keeping your emotions in check while performing your usual duties on the Victoria Punk.  The bow of the deck needed a thorough scrubbing, a few spots in the walls of the crow’s nest needed repairs from a recent run in with a smaller, weaker pirate crew, and a few secondary sails needed their holes patched up.  It was a perfect day to distract yourself from your woes.  Drowning your discontent in your work had become quite a valuable skill.
Until you slipped on the soap that lathered the hard wood of the bow and fell flat on your ass.  When trying to stand, your hands gave out under you and you hit the deck once more, one of your crew mates tossing you anxious glances as you struggled to regain your bearings.  Climbing up to the crow’s nest, you were plagued with a sudden wash of grief over the day, so much so that you lost your grip and slipped down the Jacobs ladder, your foot catching on one of the wooden rungs beneath you.  Wire was directly under you, climbing as well to assist with the crow’s nest repairs, and his method of helping you after your slip involved gripping your arm so hard it left a bruise.  You bit back your tears at the pain of your crewmate’s hand around your limb and the humiliation of almost falling 12 feet onto the hard wooden hull, but you once again bit back your shame and finished your arduous climb up.
By the afternoon, word had gotten around the Victoria Punk that your work was lacking, that you were clearly struggling with something, that perhaps you weren’t feeling well.  When it finally got around to Captain Eustass Kid, who doubled as your beloved partner, he was less than pleased.
The last thing he wanted to do was deal with your emotions, and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his abrasive, apathetic attitude.
“Care to explain why the hell the entire crew has caught you slacking off today?” he demanded, thundering toward you in one of the upper corridors of the ship’s hull.  You were still returning some of the tools you had used to patch up the ship’s sails when he accosted you in the hallway.  It was almost dinner hour, and many of the crew were bustling through the same corridors finishing their afternoon tasks before meal time.
“What?” you snapped back, caught off guard by his threatening question.
“Don’t ‘What’ me.  Why have you been tripping and falling everywhere?  What kind of joke are you trying to play?”  His face was angry, livid even, not granting you even one second to explain your plight.
Your eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m not trying to bumble around the boat like an idiot.  I’m just not feeling well and haven’t been able to focus.”
Kid scoffed.  “Then get over it.”
Perhaps you were being irrational, but at the same time, you had officially had enough of the entire day.  You dropped your supplies on the floor around your feet, heat radiating off of your body in waves.  “What did you just say to me?”
Your captain bent down to be at your level, which was insulting to your current state.  “Get.  Over.  It.”
Anger boiled in your lungs, lighting your heart on fire, blinding the corners of your vision with a fuzzy white light.  You tried to turn your back to him and escape down the corridor, but yelped when Kid grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  He really couldn’t control the sound of his voice, regardless of his current emotion, and the volume of his shouts filling the space made your body tense up in fear.  Eyes watching the scene unfold around you widened.
Around the corner behind Kid’s back, Killer darted forward, alerted to the sounds emanating from the narrow passage.  “Kid, chill out!”
“Are you going to care about me any more if I tell you?” you demanded back, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip.  His flesh hand held firm, however, almost burning your skin.  He shrugged Killer’s own hand off of his shoulder forcefully, completely ignoring his friend’s plea to calm himself somewhat.
Kid rolled his eyes.  “It better be damn important if it’s got you almost falling off of the Jacobs ladder.”
You steeled yourself, sucking in an uneasy breath and facing your stubborn partner head on.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.  I’ve never been able to feel alright when I think about them.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence that floated between the two of you, the air in the hallway thrumming with a suffocating tension.  Kid’s grip finally relaxed on your wrist, allowing you to yank it away and rub your sore skin.  His red-painted lips finally parted, and all he graced your ear drums with was, “That’s it?”
Your heart dropped.  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”
“Parents die all the time.  What makes today so different?”  His narrow eyes were back to their scathing glare.
At this point, however, you had had enough.  You were practically shaking with a barely contained rage of your own as you stepped closer to your captain and spat in his face, causing him to stagger backward, giving you enough space to let your emotions bubble outward.  “I don’t have to tell you shit if you’re going to talk to me like that!  In front of the entire crew?!  Just because you’re my captain doesn’t mean you get the excuse to accost me in the hallway and berate me for slipping a few times.”  You frantically dug through your brain for words to add to your outburst, perhaps asking how he had the sheer gall to have such an attitude toward you despite dropping his walls and being so kind toward you on an average day, but all you could muster in response was, “Fuck you, Kid.”
You stepped away from him, narrowly missing another one of his lunges to get you to stay.  His voice was low and intimidating.  “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Then don’t tell me that my day of grieving is stupid!  Fuck!  You!” you spat back, finally turning on your heels and sprinting out of his reach, down the hallway and into the ladder well into the lower deck, desperate to get as far away from your captain as possible.  You knew he was prone to struggling with empathy, and kindness had never been one of his strong suits, but to be talked to in such a way, have your feelings belittled after you had almost severely injured yourself as a consequence of your lacking mental health, hurt more than a stab to the liver.
Kid’s burning gaze followed you as you fled, harshly turning on his own heels to slink to the galley and drown his frustrations in whatever liquor the crew had acquired from the last island.  He bumped Killer’s shoulder, forcing the blonde to the side.  The crew watched as their captain rounded the corner out of sight.
---
You didn’t arrive for the dinner call, your usual seat left unfilled and the plate uneaten.  A few crew mates who hadn’t witnessed the explosive scene from an hour ago asked around for your whereabouts, but the only one who bothered to stand up and search for you was Quincy who quickly ate her meal and abandoned the table.
Kid was pounding back alcohol like no one’s business, leading to many a concerned glance.
“Kid,” Killer muttered.  He rested his masked head in his hand, desperate for context at what he had previously run in on.  “What happened?”
“Nothing,” the red-head grumbled, throwing back another mug of golden beer, some of it dribbling down the side of his mouth.
The few straggling crew members who remained around the large dining table shared worried looks.
“It’s clearly not nothing,” Killer countered.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Kid.  Even at the age of 23, he was still no better than a bratty little child when things didn’t go his way.
Killer dropped the subject with a sigh, the sound escaping the holes in his mask with a subdued hiss.
Quincy, on the other hand, carefully opened the door to the women’s bunk room where she found you, curled on your side on the mattress that used to belong to you when you first joined the Kid Pirates, your face buried in a pillow and your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Darling,” she cooed, silently tapping across the floor to sit on the side of the bed, her gentle hand ghosting over your arm.  “What happened?  Why didn’t you come to dinner?”
The sound of her voice unraveled you from your coil, your tear-stained face and puffy red eyes meeting her concerned stare.  “Kid and I had a fight,” was all you said.
“About?”
You rolled onto your back, clutching the pillow that was thoroughly drenched in your salty tears to your abdomen.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and when Kid asked me what was wrong, he told me, ‘What makes today so different, parents die all the time.’  Like…?” your voice wavered, “Who says that?  And to his girlfriend nonetheless!”
Quincy made a disappointed tsk sound with her tongue, sympathetically rubbing your arm through the sleeve of your shirt.  “Honey, he’s stupid.  But still, he was wrong to speak to you like that.”
You sniffled, wiping some snot from your face with the arm that wasn’t being caressed by your close friend.  “I know… but it still hurts.  I wish he could just… I don’t know… be nicer to me?”
For what it was worth, both of you knew that Kid wasn’t truly ‘stupid.’  He was strong, strategic, and resilient, but when it came to matters of the heart, his brain dwarfed to the size of a peanut.  It was only a matter of getting the headstrong captain to realize how he had truly hurt you.
“Honey, sleep in here for a few nights to get a proper rest, away from him,” Quincy offered, standing up from her seat on your mattress to approach one of the wardrobes, pulling out a comfortable shirt and baggy pants to relax in.  “Let this blow over for a little while, and then you can try to talk it out with him.  We can help if you need it.”
You sat up yourself, gratefully taking the clothing from her arms, a small smile on your lips.  “Thanks, Quin.”
The curly-haired woman left the bunkhouse to let you change, passing by Killer trudging through the hallway, a towel draped over his scarred arm.  “Hey, have you talked to Kid?”
“He’s drunk off his ass right now,” Killer grumbled, dragging his free hand down his mask in a display of exasperation.  “I couldn’t get him to tell me what happened, but he’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the evening.”
Quincy bit the inside of her cheek as she assessed the first mate’s message.  “I’ll tell you.”
---
It had been about three days since the argument Kid had blasted you with in front of your crew mates, your humiliation and anger toward your captain burning a hole into your lungs.  You couldn’t contain your tears for at least six hours after your initial outburst, the grief of losing your parents in the way you had all those years ago now partnered with the anguish of screaming at Kid… and spitting on his face.  The act was so beneath you, and yet.  Dive and Hip, who had seen the argument first-hand, had helped to assure you that you weren’t in the wrong for what you had said, reassuring your stance that Kid was far too intimidating when all he wanted was a simple answer for your strange behavior.
Heat had come to you with a covered plate containing the dinner you had missed, informing you that Kid still had a very poor system of managing his emotions.  While you understood this first hand, being his partner for the better part of a year, you still didn’t believe that was a proper excuse to diminish your emotions in the way he had.
After those three days of your absence, strategically avoiding him at all hours of the day, Kid was fed up.  He needed to talk.  His bed was too empty without you.
Killer told him it would be a bad idea to call you to his quarters, but he did it anyway.  And when your anxious knocking reverberated through the thick wooden door of his cabin, he was quick to call your name and grant you entry.
You stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you, keeping your head low.  Kid stood from his mattress, clearing the floor in broad steps and trying his best to lay on the charm, wrapping his large arm around you and cooing his best, casual greeting, “Hey, babe, I’ve missed you.”
You shrugged yourself away from him, your eyes downcast.  You looked… hollow.  “Did you want something from me, captain?”
Kid felt a foreign pang deep in his chest.  You hadn’t been referring to him as your boyfriend or partner.  Right now, he was strictly ‘captain,’ and that notion left him feeling far too empty and vulnerable for his liking.
Fuck, he wasn’t good at this in any way.
Your gaze bore scorching holes into his own eyes, silently demanding the apology that you knew you deserved to hear from him.  With a deep sigh, Kid turned around and stomped back to his mattress, dropping his head into his hands.
“I didn’t know your parents died,” he blurted.
You stayed quiet.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”  His voice was a low grumble.
You suppressed a scoff.  “How about, ‘Sorry for yelling at you in front of the crew?’  Or, ‘I’m sorry for saying that your feelings don’t matter.’  Something like that, maybe.”  Your voice, in comparison, was eerily level, your time to be physically upset with the situation having expired two days ago.  Now all you were left with was an uncomfortable feeling of unease, a hole in your heart where Kid usually sat now being emptied and replaced with a barren cavern that desperately wished to be occupied by the man you loved once more.
Because you really did love him.  You knew his lifestyle, his behaviors, his tendencies toward cruelty.  And yet, he remained kind toward you.  He allowed you to open up to him and did the same in turn, and he nestled himself perfectly, albeit clumsily, into your life.  You didn’t want to lose that.
Watching as Kid clearly struggled forming those two little words on his tongue was like watching someone perform self-surgery.  His pride had impeded his sense of empathy for so long that the simple notion of apologizing was such an estranged concept for him.
How stunted.
But you held firm, remaining in front of his closed door as he kept his head in his hand, his thick fingers teasing through his slightly greasy red hair.  After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked his head up.  “I’m sorry.”
There it was.
He continued, sucking in a shaky breath.  “I really didn’t know it was the anniversary of your family’s death.  I wish I asked you about it sooner instead of… that.”
You stayed quiet.
“... Instead of yelling at you like that.  And attacking you for something that was out of your control.”  He kept his voice low, as if he was carefully picking out his words from a small bucket inside his thick skull.
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, you released the tension in your shoulders with a sigh.  “And I’m sorry for spitting on you.  And for cursing you out.”
“No, you shouldn’t apologize,” Kid stated, finally picking up his head and gazing at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I deserved it, really.”  His fingers anxiously rubbed the rough fabric of his pants.  “Killer sat me down and gave me a bit of a beat down.  Physically and verbally.  Because I know I’m not good at this.  I’m not a good person.  And I really fucked up with you.”
You remained firm with your feelings, but you finally approached his bed and sat next to him, leaving a comfortable gap between your bodies that your captain, your partner, didn’t try to close.  He kept his distance from you, silently ensuring that you were allowed, and encouraged, to open up to him when you were the most comfortable.
“I just want to make sure that you actually mean it,” you whispered.  “And that you’re not just saying that without believing it.”
“I mean it,” Kid confirmed, his voice unwavering.  “I really do.”
You gazed at him apprehensively.  “... Promise?”
Silently, Kid held out his pinky toward you.
You looked at his finger, confusion glossing your features.  “What are you doing?”
“Have you never made a pinky promise before?” he asked.
Your mouth threatened to curl into a small smile.  “Can’t say that I have.”
Kid released his hand only so he could take yours, folding your fingers down so only your own pinky stuck out from your fist.  He repeated the motion with his own hand, curling his smallest digit around your own.  “It’s a promise that I mean what I said.  Killer and I used to do this all the time as kids.”
Your composure finally broke as you snorted, your own finger curling around his.  “That’s sweet…”
“The point is that, if I break the promise, you get to break my finger,” he explained.
“Suddenly everything makes sense,” you uttered, your lips finally curling into a grin.  “Don’t give me an excuse to break your finger.”
In response to your lighthearted plea, Kid raised his hand with yours still attached and pulled back down in a handshake gesture.  “Never.”
Your finger stayed curled around his as you gazed at your hand.  “I’m still kind of upset with you.”
Kid’s shoulders stiffened.  “I get why.”  After you stayed silent for a few extra moments, he finally asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Your eyes bore into his once more, his gaze remaining steady as well.  “You can start by not jumping to conclusions… or being accusatory without any context.”  You sighed.  “I’m not telling you to change your entire personality, Kid, because I know who you are.  And I fell in love with the normal, regular You.  But I just ask for a little bit of kindness.”
Kid released your pinky in order to lace his entire hand with yours.  “I’ll give you more than a little.”
“Or I can break your pinky?” you asked once more, another small smile breaking out on your face.
Your partner grinned.  “I’ll throw myself overboard if you ask.”
You finally closed the gap between your bodies, tentatively laying your head on his shoulder.  “No… I wouldn’t want to lose you like that.”
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Text
Fuck it I'm tired I'm half delusional and I can regret it in the morning. Oh well.
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Primarchs and their favourite places to kiss ~♡
This may (is likely to) be out of character, many apologies.
Lion: Back of your hand. It's a classic, it's sweet, and he's not all that much of a physically affectionate bloke at the start.
Fulgrim: Tip of your nose and then rests his forehead against yours. He says it's "so you can gaze into his beautiful eyes and admire them", but it's actually because his eyes are windows to his thoughts and having you see his love for you is far easier than saying it out loud.
Perturabo: Your temple. He can still focus on his work while you demand affection from him (you're not demanding, he kissed you totally unprompted as you were walking past. He's just a bitch about it)
Khan: Your jawline. He kisses all over it and then may bite your ear to tease you. Not always, because he does treasure genuine affection, but when he's in a mischievous mood...well, >:)
Russ: Your neck. Specifically your nape and pulse point, he kisses your nape as an everyday sort of thing, almost even a greeting, while your pulse point is a little more...personal. Most go for the neck when they aim to kill something, after all, and he just wants you to know that he's protecting you, rather than a threat.
Dorn: Your cheek. It's soft, it's meaningful and it's as close to your lips as he can get without actually kissing you on them. He's a bit self-concious of the fact that his mouth is like three times the size of yours and he doesn't particularly like sloppy kisses unless yknow. He's.. distracted 😏.
Konrad: Your jugular. He's pressing his teeth to it more than his lips - it's not necessarily a threat, he's just not a very good kisser. But sometimes it's soft, softer than the down from Sanguinius's wings, on a rare day where he remembers that he CAN be gentle.
Sanguinius: Your inner left wrist. Another pulse point kisser but like...extra romantic. He likes to feel your heartbeat against his face to truly remind him that you are here with him. It keeps him in the moment rather than his mind spiralling into the future.
Ferrus: Your hands. He kisses each of your knuckles and then the back of your hand. If you catch him on a very rare day, he'll pepper his kisses all the way up to your shoulder and then your cheek, Gomez Addams style.
Angron: Your shoulders. Specifically the backs of them, he feels the need to be as far from your face when he kisses you because he doesn't trust himself not to rip your face off with his teeth. If you want him to kiss your face, you'll have to initiate it.
Guilliman: Your forehead/hair. He likes to kiss here because it means you can sit on his lap while he works and he can give you affection while doing it. Multitasking 👍. Every time he leans down to check one of his documents, he kisses you.
Mortarion: Your eyelids. He kisses both of them and then your forehead. He doesn't really like physical contact and isn't used to it, and it's sort of like he's appreciating that you see him, you're aware of what he looks like and that you still manage to show him affection.
Magnus: Your forehead. Smack dab in the middle of it, near the crown of your hair. When he kisses it, it sort of feels like he's kissing something inside of you. HE IS. He's kissing your third eye. The sneaky psychic bitch is kissing your third eye.
Horus: Your lips. He's a good kisser and it's easy to wipe your mind of your worries when he's distracted you.
Lorgar: Your hands. He gives the most devoted kisses to your hands it almost makes your lips jealous. The complete and utter reverence he holds for you is obvious with the way he drops to his knees to press a featherlight kiss to your fingertips and then the palm of your hand.
Vulkan: Your palms. He likes to kiss your palms, specifically your Heart Line (palm reader vulkan anyone??) on your left hand, and sometimes he'll tell you something silly and sweet like "mm, says here you'll have three kids and a mansion on the beach" while tracing your Life Line with his pinkie with the biggest grin on his face.
Corvus: On your cheek directly under your eyes. Yes, his nose does poke you in the eye sometimes but you'll have to deal because Corvus Corax Nuzzles Your Cheek Before He Kisses It. Corvus noses at your cheeks like a bird preening and then kisses you.
Alpharius: Everywhere. It depends on the day, really, sometimes it's your cheek, other times your ear, and occasionally your lips. It's a sweet surprise every time!
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scoobydoodean · 1 day
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How did, you think, the perception of Dean come to be so twisted/different from what is actually shown to us? Like some things I can see people just not bothering to look past superficial instances (The “no chic flick moment” thing, assuming that him not having Sam’s level of formal education means he’s automatically unintelligent because people assume that irl, for example) but others (Him being emotionally constipated in fandom but genuinely one of the most introspective and emotionally intelligent characters in canon, making him a slob/a bigot/an abuser, or someone that only hunts for the thrill of the kill) just… I can’t even begin to understand and it’s so homogeneous in the Fanon Mindset too.
I honestly do think a lot of these relate to Sam in an interesting way. A lot of narratives about Dean are in "contrast" to Sam. Sam is smart, Dean is dumb. Sam is introspective and emotionally intelligent, Dean is repressed. Dean is a slob, Sam is neat. We get many of these ideas from or through Sam.
Sam sometimes makes digs at Dean's intelligence (though he's far from the only one—even Dean himself is guilty of it) and people just kind of buy into that and regurgitate it despite the many examples we get to the contrary. In fact (and I wish I had tracked this in particular over this rewatch but I noticed how often it was happening pretty late) Dean is often referred to as dim-witted right before or right after displaying exactly how brilliant he is.
I think a lot of the idea that Dean is emotionally closed off also heavily comes down to Sam... because Sam is often the person asking demanding Dean open up, and when Dean refuses to open up to Sam, and Sam starts spouting off pop psychology talk about it not being good to "bury your emotions" or whatever... people buy into what's being sold to them... by Sam. Sam is selling a story that HE is emotionally healthy, but Dean is NOT emotionally healthy, and the details of what is upsetting Dean need to be pried out of him for his own good. When the truth is, 1) in many cases, what we are actually seeing is Sam being pushy and not respecting Dean's boundaries 2) many of these instances show Sam urging Dean to open up to him as a proxy for his OWN feelings that HE is avoiding (ex: 2.02, 5.11, 13.04) 3) other instances demonstrate that he is a poor confidant for Dean who is best avoided because he will harm Dean using what Dean's opened up to him about (ex: 2.09/2.11, 4.08/4.14/4.18/4.21, 6.02, 13.04). 4) Other episodes simply demonstrate that Sam is not always a preferred confidant because of their upbringing or whatever other reason but is still willing to be vulnerable with others (even if spurned by them too) (ex: 2.03, 3.10, 3.16, 4.15, 4.16, 4.22, 5.07, 6.02, 6.06, 7.04, ). And even then... Dean still opens up to Sam quite a lot! (ex: 1.16, 1.18, 1.22, 2.03, 2.09, 2.20, 4.10, 4.11, ... I'm losing steam here but you get the idea).
One of the reasons this happens I think is actually a lack of interest in Sam. Because many fans don't spend a lot of time analyzing Sam, they tend to vaguely grasp who he is based on how he talks. Then the issue multiplies when they use him as a self-insert in a fanfic instead of characterizing him as he is in the show, using him to tell Dean or Cas things the author wants them to hear, or to act as a confidant. That further lends to this belief that Sam is some High EQ Therapist Lite type who is endlessly sensitive and vulnerable and Dean is uniquely in need of Someone To Help Him Get His Shit Together.
The idea that Dean is a slob I give people a little more grace with, because I think it likely comes about more honestly through how Dean eats—and this is one area where Dean absolutely is not neat. He tends to ignore manners when eating, and I think a lot of people extrapolate from "Dean doesn't care about table manners" -> "Dean is a slob". Dean actually having some issues with germs at times is something members of the writing team have messed up before. It might also be related to Sam's weird perception of manners surrounding food (i.e., not eating food in other people's houses even when it's offered to him for some reason) and people associating his overemphasis on that with "neatness" in contrast to Dean.
Another angle here is probably classism rearing it's ugly head. Because Dean has less formal education than Sam, he has to be a slob, and he has to be emotionally closed off, and he must be a bigot, and etc etc etc.
The reasons some people insist on Dean being a bigot or an abuser are more nebulous (many forms of bigotry may be under discussion, many moments might be chosen as "proof" of one thing or another and that may require some more individual attention). In a broad sense, it's sometimes classism at work here. However, a lot of these ideas persist through certain metas passed around by people who already don't like Dean. Many of them developed a dislike for Dean early on and will always choose interpretations of various events that cast him in the worst light based on their first impression, whether their interpretation is all that reasonable or not. I mean, I could go around saying Sam idolizes a known pedophile and is afraid of people with certain disabilities because he's ableist, and I could insist his interactions with Madison in "Heart" are intentionally written to tell us that Sam is an absolute creep who takes advantage of vulnerable women, but if the goal is to analyze the show in good faith, my analysis ends up being more charitable as I dismiss some of these things as Writer Crimes or things that maybe I wasn't intended to take so seriously or things that are a product of their time. Of course we also all know that some Sam and Cas fans love to shit on Dean for doing the same shit their fave did. That does sometimes leave me wondering if people's selective memory on Sam and/or Cas is more of the issue than their selective memory on Dean, but I also think because Supernatural is so long, and there is SO much fanon content, a lot of people's views on the characters are based around fanon/fanfiction they read in ways they simply don't realize, and that ignorance persists and strengthens as memories of the actual source material become more hazy.
NOTE: I know you know this—but for others: I track some of these things in the following tags:
#my smart bby
#dean and introspection
#bad therapist sam
#dean and cleanliness
#dean minimizations
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aurumacadicus · 2 days
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i'm not sure if tumblr is lying to me or not about when you responded to my ask but i only just got the notification for it, so. if you're still doing the 1-161 stony ficlet challenge, can i request 123 if that one hasn't also been taken? ps i'm really loving the ones you've posted so far, they're great! <3
Thanks! It's been a lot of fun!
--
Steve grit his teeth as Tony carefully, casually prodded his thigh with the toe of his left foot again. They were fighting, and he couldn't tell if this was an olive branch or a deliberate attempt to make him lose his cool.
They didn't fight often. They argued a lot, of course. He and Tony both had very strong personalities, and they also had very strong opinions. More difficult still, Steve was from a different time, and while he'd made great strides in acclimating himself to the time (and while Tony had been very patient as he learned) some things he said and believed still had them butting heads sometimes.
Tony prodded his thigh again, and Steve sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He would not give Tony the satisfaction of reacting.
"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," Tony finally declared, prodding him again.
"We are fighting and I'm still mad at you," Steve answered curtly, looking back down at his book. He figured that was attention enough, with the mood he was in and their fight still hovering at the edges of their conversations.
The ball of Tony's foot stayed pressed to his thigh a moment longer before he slowly drew it back. "Oh. Sorry."
Steve slanted his gaze over at that, brows furrowing together at the tone of Tony's voice. It was the one he used when he knew he'd misstepped but didn't understand why. He looked genuinely upset before his emotional shutters came back down as he returned his gaze to his tablet. He pulled his feet in closer, tucking himself tighter into the corner of the couch.
Steve watched him, considering, then carefully asked, "We... are still fighting, aren't we?"
"Of course. Obviously," Tony scoffed, prodding at his screen a little harder than he usually might.
Steve waited a beat, but Tony didn't plow on like he usually did when he was angry. He'd had no problem shouting for hours yesterday, but Steve had no doubt he'd come up with new things to shout if he was still very upset. He cast around his mind for what Tony's sudden change in heart and remembered, frowning, that Colonel Rhodes had huffed out a frustrated, 'well, his parents never apologized to each other, at least not in front of him, so he thinks fights just stop eventually and you carry on as usual.'
Tony must have just been... ready for things to carry on as usual. Steve set his book in his lap and sighed again, tipping his head against the back of the couch. He'd been the second one to sit down on the couch. Tony must have thought that was an olive branch. And maybe it had been, he realized, turning to look at Tony again. Maybe, unconsciously, he'd been ready to end the fight, too. But not like Tony wanted, where they simply stopped talking about it and returned to life as normal.
"I'm sorry," Steve said, because he was. His ma always said it took two people to fight, after all.
Tony prodded at his tablet a couple more times, then turned his head a little, peering at him out of the corner of his eye. "...For what?" he finally asked, skeptical.
"For fighting," Steve answered simply. He'd learned early on that if he said too much, Tony would have more to read into.
Tony turned his head away, then looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "...I'm... sorry... too," he finally said, slowly, like he was waiting for Steve to spring some sort of trap after each word.
It hurt a little, Steve could admit to himself. But luckily, he'd learned that it wasn't his own shortcomings as a boyfriend that caused Tony to be suspicious of something he thought was a good thing; the lists of people who had hurt Tony in the past were all available online, after all. Not necessarily under that label, but Steve was pretty good at reading between the lines.
And it was a step in the right direction, Steve figured. Acknowledging their wrongs to each other was certainly better than just letting them go unsaid. They could have a discussion about it later, when the hurt wasn't so fresh and they had time to decompress.
Until then, Steve reached out to grab Tony's ankle and drag his leg back out, and Tony squawked as he was pulled across the cushions. "C'mere."
"Brute!" Tony howled, trying to claw his way back across the couch, but Steve's grip on his leg was immovable. "Stop fucking dragging me everywhere you want me, you neanderthal, I--"
"You what?" Steve asked, flipping him easily, and immediately dug his thumbs into Tony's arch, exactly where he knew Tony got sorest. Tony let out a moan, and Steve knew he had won, at least for the moment.
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winniethewife · 2 days
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But I'm gonna love you anyhow
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(Nathan Bateman x F!reader)
A/N: Inspired by a Prompt by @gingersforeverbox
Words:679
“So that's the new girl that he’s dating?”
“They’ve apparently been going out in secret for months”
“She looks…” Like what a whore? A Bitch? A floozy? A Gold digger? She almost dares them to finish the sentence as they talk behind her back. “Nice.” Ugh that was worse than an insult. She could do without all these fake niceties that this kind of crowd always seems to rely on. She took the champagne flute from one of the servers with a polite smile. She sips at it and looks around for a moment, trying to spot Nathan in the crowded room. She understood the importance of going to these charity galas occasionally to keep him in good graces with the public eye, but after several months of spending all their time together out in his home in Alaska, all these people was almost overwhelming. She didn’t belong here, among the upper crust, with the press outside hoping for a glimpse, she felt out of place, even if she was perfectly dressed and styled like every other person in the room.
She finally spotted Nathan across the room, he looked nice in a suit, he was so often dressed in casual lounge wear that she had honestly been shocked that he even owned one. She watches as Nathan laughs at something the guy he was talking to said, she knew him well enough to know that was a fake laugh, the way the smile didn’t reach his eyes, it was obvious to her, but to no one else. She smiled slightly at the thought, the idea that of all the people in the room, she was the only one who truly knew him. As she watched him he eventually looked over at her, a genuine smile crosses his face. He turns to the people he was talking to and appears to dismiss himself before walking over to her.
“You look amazing Honey. How am I so lucky to have you?” He asks cheekily while wrapping an arm around her waist, she feels the nerves and irritation from the evening wash away as she feels his hand gripping her side firmly, with a gentle possession.
“I don’t know, you’re kind of an asshole, I’m not sure why I stick around.” She teases as she leans into him. He looks down at her resting her head in the crook of his arm with mock offence.
“Oh my darling why- Why would you say such a thing?” He couldn’t keep up the fake hurt tone bursting in to laughter midsentence. “No, no you’re right. I deserve that no doubt. But I will say, you make me want to be better, but only for you. Fuck the others.” He kisses the top of her head before looking out on the party. As He scans the room he holds her close, and as he holds her she can’t help but feel emotions surging in her chest, to hear something so sentimental from Nathan was unusual, but she liked it. The Judgement of the others in the room was far from her mind now, the feeling of outsiderhood vanished. She could belong anywhere as long as he was with her. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. As long as he was with her, she could be anywhere, do anything, and be anyone. The options were unlimited.
"I don’t think I want you to change. I think that's what I love about you...you're just...you." She says with a smile and a turn, her back against his chest now, his arms still around her. Nathan chuckled. He was really the luckiest guy in the room. There was so much she didn’t know about him, but she was going to love him anyhow. And that was more than he could ever hope for. He leans down to whisper in her ear.
“I’ve heard there's some oddly phallic ice sculptures in the other room…wanna check them out?” He mutters. She laughs. There’s not a thing about him that she would change.
“I would love to see that.”
~
Masterlist
Tags: @burymesanti @silvernight-m @faretheeoscar @queerponcho
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