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riding-the-sunset-bird · 3 months

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I'm still riding a high from Baxter Week last month so I just wanted to gush about how much I adore Baxter and his DLC! No specific rhyme or reason, but it is a nice break from my usual dives into the code!

Also, I won't be saying anything negative about Cove nor Derek; I don't need nor want to do that. I'll be comparing them to Baxter, but only for contrast/showing the skillfully written differences between them (example: Cove does [x] and Baxter does [y] to account for multiple player preferences).

(might go without saying, but there will be spoilers for basically his entire DLC)

The Background

I actually had no interest in Baxter when my MC first met him in the game. He was fine, I was neutral, but what it came down to was that I was one of Those People who just wanted time with Cove and excluded others (if it's not obvious, I always got a cold Cove unless I used the Cove Creator).

That all changed, funnily enough, during the Cove Wedding DLC. On a whim, I agreed to let Baxter give my MC dance lessons and prodded him on his disappearance after Step 3. Getting a hint of Baxter's underlying problems piqued my interest and I'd had the Baxter DLC downloaded before I even hit the reception!

After the Cove Wedding DLC was over, I rolled back to a save right before Soiree and got to romancing.

Zero regrets.

The Setup

As a character, Baxter is so beautifully designed as both a contrast to Cove and someone to fill out the gaps that Cove and Derek leave. He also completes the "comfort level" of love interests that I had in my head, where the MC can be whatever they want but each guy seems to have a particular comfort level themselves (Cove being Nervous, Derek being more Relaxed, and Baxter being Direct).

When if comes to their actual engagement through the family, Baxter has only brief mentions of his parents, Cove's story is partly connected to his parents whilst still giving focus to one-on-one time, and Derek's family is front-and-center to his conflict. It's all about how much time a player wants to invest in the character versus the time they want to spend with others.

Likewise, Baxter's route features a relationship that ends and gets back together again, Cove's route is a relationship where he and the MC always live close to each other, and Derek's route is a long-distance relationship past Step 2 and before Step 4.

Baxter's undeniably a controversial character, I imagine due to possibly being based on the "playboy" type, which tends to be someone who flirts with anyone they find attractive whether the recipient likes it or not, won't take "no" for an answer, and lies to their dates that they're serious about them when they actually don't care for them at all.

The game cleverly subverts this right out of the gate when Baxter first meets Cove and the MC. Baxter does find the two attractive and initially flirts with the both of them (a great start to confirming that he's pan), but backs off and apologizes the moment he notices that Cove is uncomfortable. He adds as well that he wouldn't mind having a summer fling, but that it's not his core reason for wanting to get to know and spend time with them.

So already, the player is made aware that he's forward but considerate, takes Cove's discomfort more seriously than even the usual residents of Sunset Bird (who enjoy teasing him into embarrassment), and has non-serious flings with a priority on simply having fun connections over the course of his time with them.

He, like Cove, will only propose a relationship with the MC in Step 3 if the MC expresses interest first (the only difference being that the MC expresses the interest in Cove to "the game" while talking to Lee, whereas the MC expresses interest in Baxter by talking to Baxter directly).

This gives the MC a powerful opportunity, as Baxter is a character that the player has the most options in interacting with. He begins as a total stranger, similar to Cove, and the player can decide whether he stays that way or becomes more than that. Even down to the optional moments he appears in, the MC only has to interact with him in Hang and Late Shift, both of which lets them avoid further interaction by going home early and rejecting his invitation to his house/telling him not to come to their workplace respectively. The only mandatory instances of seeing him are the Step 3 intro, a brief goodbye in the ending, Hang, and the very beginning of Late Shift.

Whether it be strangers, friends, friends that fell in love after they met again, a friendship or fling that started well and ended horribly, a fling that turned into genuine feelings in the end, or two people that love each other all the way through, Baxter's route can do it all. In Step 4 as well, the MC can choose to be calm, professional, upset, or angry about seeing Baxter again, which all lead to different conversations/narration with him, and the end of Step 3 makes him the only love interest where there can be a technical "break up."

This is also a rare occasion where the MC, due to Cove not being a fan of Baxter, can form a relationship outside of their normal range. Baxter doesn't live in Sunset Bird and isn't connected to anyone the MC knows - neither Cove's nor the MC's friends and family - at the time of meeting him, fitting the narrative of the MC starting to look at things beyond their little neighborhood and even the people they're close with. It can be further emphasized in Soiree where the MC starts to gain a bit of independence and can end up dancing with a younger Baxter, foreshadowing that little peek into the wider world from a mysterious stranger who's there and then gone.

Something else that's fascinating is that Baxter, due to him leaving at the end of Step 3 and meeting the MC again during Step 4, is the only love interest where players see virtually all of the MC's interactions with him. It does leave out the gaps that Cove and Derek have that can be neatly filled with headcanons, but that ultimately depends on what the player prefers. Point being is that the MC's experiences are the player's experiences when it comes to Baxter: whatever time they spend with him, the player also spends with him.

So already, the setup for Baxter and his route are really strong for me, but the content of his DLC isn't limited to just him.

The Content

Baxter's DLC introduces a total of two new characters and extra content for Terry and Miranda, both of which were absolutely welcomed by me. I was hyper-focused on Cove in the base game, but the Baxter DLC made me appreciate the other characters more.

Even the moms, who already got plenty of screen time, are shown to be rather nosy and gossip-y in Sightseeing (something not showcased overly until then), which ends up being the perfect encouragement towards the MC learning more about Baxter. Then, if the MC meets the requirements and agrees to Baxter's fling, Noelani in particular is stunned into silence. If the MC was upset with Baxter over what happened, then both moms will show a rare coldness to him as well.

These are all things one would miss out on with other interests, due to how the whirlwind relationship and drama in Baxter's route are designed.

Then there's Terry, who becomes Baxter's friend more directly in the DLC whether Baxter is convinced of that or not, and is given more to do in every best way. Baxter's version of Hang allows for more focus on Terry's relationship with Miranda, partly with more hints towards his crush on her but also seeing Terry interact with someone who's "like him." Cove and Miranda are described as "shy" and the MC can be equally as much, allowing for new facets of Terry's character to come through by Baxter's being there.

Even after Baxter goes no contact and Step 4 makes the shift to focus on his relationship with the MC, Terry's friendship with him isn't forgotten: Baxter laments that Terry isn't calling him by his affectionate nickname for him anymore.

Terry getting attention from being Baxter's friend doesn't exclude Miranda from getting any either; far from it. If anything, she gets more than Terry, both with an expansion on her family in the form of her brother (and eventual brother-in-law) plus a moment dedicated to giving her a birthday party. As if that weren't enough, she gets a mini-plot in Step 4 concerning her relationship with Terry and her role in his life.

Seeing more of Terry and Miranda was in every way a case of "thing I didn't know I needed until I had it." Maybe it was the Cove tunnel vision that persisted for so long, but when I first got to re-experience Terry and Miranda in Baxter's version of Hang, it was great and I was so happy any time they were on-screen.

They aren't given extra time just for the sake of it either; they're expertly woven into the overarching story of Step 3 and the themes of Step 4.

Step 3 centers on adulthood with the MC and their friends growing up and having to face the fear of growing apart. The step already does a good job at keeping that a focus, but Planning expands on it in a way that feels almost criminal not to have in the base game. The already high stakes feel even higher when put up against the last birthday party they'll be able to plan before everyone goes off on their own.

Then, Step 4 balances Terry putting forth so much effort for Miranda with her worrying that she's not doing enough for him. She doesn't need to worry, obviously (Terry loves her for every reason), but with Step 4 focusing so much on relationships, self-reflection, and trying to make up for past mistakes (both real and perceived), it's just a cherry on top of an already fantastic story.

Meanwhile, Jude and Scott, despite only appearing for Step 4, are easily some of my favorite characters in the game. They're adorable, they can be sweet with not just Miranda but the MC too (the player has the option for the MC to see them like honorary family/big brothers), and the way the groom's cake ultimately ties into helping bring Baxter and the MC closer again while serving as a callback to Planning is perfection. One may think little of Miranda's initial mention of them (probably assuming that it's just a little bit of character introduction to show that she has family who has things going on), but it all comes together in the end.

The DLC additionally has a potential bonus (depending on player preference) in that it is benefited by most other DLCs. The other DLCs are not required to enjoy it, but they add that little bit of extra flavor.

The Step 2 DLC adds Birthday and Soiree. Birthday is Miranda's birthday party when she's fourteen and before she officially becomes the MC's friend, meaning you get the development of seeing the difference in the MC's and Cove's investment in her party then versus now, as well as how her taste in parties has grown. Soiree allows the MC to possibly meet Baxter earlier than Step 3 and add to the "fate"/"destiny" angle if the player so desires.

The Step 3 DLC obviously allows for more Baxter in general with Boating and Late Shift, the former showing a much needed reaction from Lee if the MC is dating him at the time. It's also a good "starter DLC" for people who aren't sure about Baxter, allowing them to choose to interact with him if they want to get to know him more (as I mentioned before).

Derek's DLC lets the player meet Baxter in a different way during Soiree, something that can be brought back up with Derek in Step 3 and then again in Step 4 (to which he'll joke about the MC's meetings with Baxter in five year increments).

Even Cove's Wedding DLC can have advantage, bringing a soft conclusion to Baxter's story for those who don't want to play Baxter's Step 4 but still care for him, and/or something more dramatic following how he ends off Step 3 with the MC.

So one doesn't just get Baxter content; there's quality content from others and it can be further added to with other DLCs.

Not that the Baxter content isn't worth it all by itself either because I adore this man.

The Man

I'm a simple woman. Give me an intelligent man with simultaneously zero braincells and I am in.

I don't even like "playboy" type characters normally, but Baxter is actually charming and tries to make things clear to the MC from the beginning. He falters during the Step 3 ending but not because he was trying to keep it a secret; he genuinely didn't expect the MC to try to press him and deemed himself unworthy of their company.

I'd seen more than enough of rich boy plots where the rich boy is a perfect do-no-wrong type and it's everyone else's problem that they don't like him. Baxter, however, is a flawed character who not everyone is going to like (which is absolutely 100% fine and valid) and him being rich is not just something that influenced his self-esteem but also what he ultimately gives up despite having relied on that financial safety net for his whole life, showing a deeper sense of awareness as he got older.

I don't normally like fate/destiny stories either, as they often feel as though they're taking agency from one or both characters involved (in terms of forcing them to love/be in a relationship with each other), but Baxter's route isn't like that. It's the player's choice to have that dance in Soiree (which they can just as easily turn down), their choice to form a closer relationship with Baxter outside of the disinterested Cove, and their choice to choose Baxter's Step 4 when they have already one guaranteed "safe" option in Cove's Step 4 and a potential other "safe" choice in Derek's Step 4 if they have Derek's DLC.

The player is the fate, which coincidentally went into my first playthrough, as my MC was initially designed for Cove yet ended up being perfect for Baxter.

Baxter is so absolutely delightful and absolutely stupid at the same time. From his openness to be questioned by the MC followed by this assumption that he's like a stranger to them (meanwhile the MC and Cove being best friends/crushes right out of the gate if the player so chooses), to him talking about the play he and the MC go to while not seeing the obvious parallel to his own issues, to openly admitting that he doesn't want to leave the MC while making the decision himself to go no contact.

He unconvincingly uses the cupcakes as an excuse to not get more intimate with MC, he wants so badly to spend time with the MC that he's willing to risk letting them see him in his useless morning state (and is surprised when it goes wrong, at least in his mind), and tries to convince himself to not stay attached to the MC during Step 4 despite being unable to help constantly reminiscing on their time together.

At his core, he's a funny, charismatic sweetheart who wants to be loved, to be touched, to have someone in his life (even just a friend) that he can make happy, but his upbringing and deep-seeded insecurities make him cynical to the idea of being in a genuine relationship with someone. This causes him to constantly sabotage himself before he can make any progress. It's why he can prefer flings: he can use his money to make a passionate, pleasant time with his temporary partner, but not so long that he feels they'll find something disappointing in him.

Low-risk, high-reward.

This, of course, ultimately backfires by the end of Step 3, and it's perfectly structured to set him up for Step 4. The brilliant foreshadowing of him being skilled with planning events in a pinch, to Jude and Scott's long-distance relationship and Baxter claiming that they won't stay together, to Baxter insisting that it's unlikely for he and the MC to meet again (made funnier if they'd already met again before, if the MC saw him in Soiree), then Step 4 hitting where he's not only a wedding planner planning Jude and Scott's wedding, but accidentally/unconsciously putting himself into situations where he's "stuck" with the MC.

That starting instant where Baxter reacts to the MC in the restaurant, initially shocked and then having to bring himself back into a professional persona, apologizing for his immature self but sticking to only focusing on the wedding?

Not just a wonderfully-written hint to the player as to what they're in for, but very much a "I'm not stuck in here with you, you're stuck in here with me," situation. It's all about making Baxter as uncomfortable as possible so he can reflect, flying in the face of his thought that he could control everything and project what he thought about himself onto others. He can give advice to other people, but refuses to give the same to himself because he held himself to an impossible standard.

Once he finally figures that out, he's feels extremely guilty and apologetic towards the MC and everyone else. Him unloading all of his emotional baggage and work to do better is so satisfying after seeing it affect him in key moments like Drinks, Planning, the Step 3 ending, and finally Step 4. Underneath the facade he (weakly) attempts to put up for himself is a teasing gentleman who hates mornings, wants to see everyone around him be happy, and feels blessed just to simply have a relationship with the MC (real or temporary).

This isn't even talking about Baxter's perspective from a meta standpoint, adding layers on top of what's already there in the canon and adding even further when considering Baxter's appearance in the sidequel Our Life: Now & Forever.

The MC can learn in Sightseeing that Baxter had a crush on a kid who was doing ballet lessons while he did ballroom. Those who know anything about Now & Forever know that this is kid is Qiu, who's one of the two potential love interests there. Naturally, Baxter wouldn't have had a chance with them, as the only person Qiu can possibly fall for is the Now & Forever MC.

Baxter confesses in Step 4 that he's naturally drawn to the people who are "wanted by everyone else," which translates to Qiu (who is widely popular during Now & Forever's Step 1) and the MC (who is liked by most characters in the game and automatically crushed on by at least Derek). In the Cove Wedding DLC specifically, he adds that he is simply someone whereas Cove is the one.

Because here's the thing: in the eyes of the base game, he's not wrong. Cove is the game's focus, taking an active role in every step and being the first that the MC meets out of the potential love interests. He's the only love interest in the base game and his Step 4 is not just free, but the default.

Meanwhile, Baxter is just someone. He's a person who shows up in Sunset Bird for a single step - only showing up thrice - and then is entirely gone without his own Step 4. His DLC costs more than any of Cove's Step DLCs and the player already knows Cove, already has spent two steps with him, thus has far less incentive to get Baxter's DLC over Cove's own Step DLCs.

Then, despite Baxter appearing once in Cove's Step 2 DLC and twice in Cove's Step 3 DLC, most players won't experience the former (either due to focusing on Cove or not wanting to dance) and Baxter can be largely excluded in the latter if he happened to leave a bad first impression on the player.

And let's take it a step further. While Derek, like Baxter, doesn't have a Wedding DLC like Cove does, Derek can get into a marriage pact with the MC as early as Step 2, he can be dating the MC throughout nearly all of his Step 4, and the MC can agree to them moving in together before the ending.

Baxter has none of that. His DLC's story is steeped in drama and the earliest the MC can properly get together with him is after the wedding. There's no chance at a proposal (such as what can happen with Cove's Step 4, where they MC can date and then propose within an equally short timespan), no opportunity to move in with him, nothing.

He takes time, work, and actual money to get into a relationship with, whether platonic or romantic. It's a level of investment that not everyone would be willing to put in for someone, especially when only one Step 4 can be chosen out of the whole bunch.

Baxter's insecurities come from a very real place. His parents treated him like a child, all while expecting him to behave like someone their age, and they deliberately picked a town for him to go to that was near the ocean he feared (where it was unlikely for there to be people his age around) to keep him in check. In his mind, he's "broken" and incapable of being with anyone long-term.

Furthering that, there's a joke he makes about "being too late" if the MC and Cove are in a relationship by the time he appears, back when he wouldn't have considered himself a worthy partner anyway (also a bit of out-of-universe humor over how the MC couldn't get together with him whether they wanted to or not, due to being unable to break up with Cove). Despite that, he's pleased as punch to see the MC dating/married to Cove and hopes the best for them regardless of his potential attraction.

Baxter puts forth so much effort to try and make the MC's last summer in Sunset Bird memorable with the thought that he won't be seeing them ever again. The potential relationship he can have with them is the most stable he's ever had and it scares him when they make him feel wanted and important. All the while, he's convinced that the MC's friends and family are "better" than him and he'll only bore the MC if he remains in contact with them.

With his DLC, the MC - the player - get to prove him wrong: an MC who is liked by everyone and loved by up to three different interests, but end up choosing him in the end. Cove and Derek are "easy" and the MC has undoubtedly spent more time with them in comparison to Baxter - who would feel that either guy could make the MC happier than he could - but they have the chance to show that he is the one that makes them happy.

Baxter is so absolutely amazed to be in a relationship with the MC that he willingly takes in all the shocked reactions and potential backlash from everyone else due to his five years of going no contact. He's regretful when he finds himself back in old habits and eager not just to message the MC multiple times per day after they return home, but also to take time off to go visit them after his Step 4 is over.

I think that makes for an incredibly special experience: to have someone who comes last out of the three possibilities, doubts his true potential, and eventually realizes how misguided he is. It's not about who got the most time with the MC, or who got "dibs" on meeting them first, or what can be accomplished the quickest in their time with them.

It's about the MC forming a bond with someone, picking him despite the difficulties/limitations because they love him that much, the work he's willing to put into it in return, and finally the happiness that comes out of it.

For those reasons and even more, the Baxter DLC is by far my favorite.

#our life #our life: beginnings & always #olba #baxter ward

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 5 months

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After General Anesthesia

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: hospital times, fluffity fluff, mentions of sex, poly representation so if you're not on board with that byeeeeee, some explicit language Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You wake up in the hospital, groggy from the anesthesia, to two of the most beautiful women you've ever seen doting on you. Imagine your surprise when it turns out you're dating. Both of them.

Your ears and nose woke up before the rest of you. The beeping of various monitors, that sickly-clean alcohol smell. You knew before you’d opened your eyes that you were in a hospital. You’d spent too much time in hospitals with your brother not to know. You blinked against the fluorescent lights, wincing at a sudden, sharp pain in your leg.

Your head still felt fuzzy, and you didn’t remember why you were here. But your confused thoughts were interrupted as one of the most stunning women you’d ever seen in your life rushed at you, kissing your face, cupping your cheeks, and grasping your fingers in hers.

“Honey, she’s awake!” Alex called to Casey, her glasses slipping down her nose as she smiled softly at you, worried hands fluttering over your face, your arms, your body.

Casey quickly occupied the space next to Alex, leaning down and holding the palm of your hand to her flushed face. “I swear to god, Y/N, if you ever scare us like that again…”

You were dreaming. You had to be dreaming. Because a hot woman fawning over you in a hospital bed was unbelievable enough. Two hot women? That was the stuff of dreams, not reality. You had no idea who they were.

The doctors had told Casey and Alex to expect some temporary memory loss and confusion after the general anesthesia. They’d told you, too, but of course you didn’t remember.

Your words felt heavy as they fell out of your mouth, jumbled like marbles. “What’s going on?”

“You broke your ankle, sweetheart, remember?” Alex responded, scooting her chair closer to the bed so she could sit next to you and hold your hand. “But it went septic. You were very sick.”

“Yes, and you scared the hell out of me,” Casey finished, grasping your face and planting a firm kiss on your forehead before sitting down, too. She leaned over the bed railing to rest her head on your thigh, looking up at you.

You’d never felt so flustered and confused in your life. Two women. Two women holding your hand!? Touching you!? But as confused as you were, all the questions in your brain were drowned out by one, single, all-consuming thought: so, so beautiful. You felt like you’d been hit head-on by a dump truck of hormones and emotions.

“You two…” you started, words slurring like you were drunk, “...are so pretty. Like, wow.”

They shared a confused glance as you continued to ramble.

“Please tell me you’re single?” you asked, trying to wink and blinking instead. “At least one of you?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Alex’s mouth, and Casey was barely holding in her laughter.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, holding up a hand and gesticulating wildly. “Let me try something. I’ve been working on this.”

Casey’s shoulders had started to shake with laughter, and Alex’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

You hit them with your very best finger guns. “Hey, girl. Are you a savings account? Because I’m accruing interest in you.”

At this, Alex and Casey burst out laughing, falling into one another, equal parts delighted by your post-surgery high and relieved that you were really and truly going to be okay.

“Wait! I’ve got more!” You waggled your eyebrows at Alex, and the way she looked at you, you knew–even in your doped-up, memory-loss state–that there was no need for pick-up lines here. She was already yours. Hook, line, and sinker. But since you had it prepped: “Hey, girl. It’s just you and me in the sheets tonight. The spreadsheets! Let’s budget, baby!”

Casey was laughing so hard she was snorting, and Alex was gingerly wiping tears from under eyes, trying to smudge her mascara. You felt like you were on cloud nine. If you could do nothing else in your life except make these two women laugh, you’d die happy.

“Come on,” you needled, smiling ear to ear. “Look at me, I’m adorable. I’m charming. You know you want to give me a chance.”

Alex coughed, trying to pull herself together, and Casey leaned down again, placing her chin on your leg and staring up at you lovingly.

“Y/N, you know we’re dating, right?”

Your eyebrows shot up and you stared at her. Her auburn hair that looked soft as the surface of water. Her eyes. Her body. “Me and you!? Are dating!?”

“No, we’re all dating,” Casey explained, gesturing between the three of you. “Me and you and Alex.”

You glanced at Alex to confirm and she nodded, smiling cheekily.

Your jaw dropped as you took in this new information. You put a hand on your head as if this was all just too much for you. And, in your current state, it kind of was.

“Me!?” you asked, glancing between them. “You’re… both of you!?”

They nodded, grinning and trying not to laugh.

“Holy shit,” you said, spurring another fit of laughter from the chairs next to your bed. “This is crazy!”

You sat and thought for a few minutes, mouth gaping.

“You alright, love?” Alex asked, running her thumb back and forth across your wrist.

You leaned toward them, as if to share a secret, then gasped sharply at the pain.

“Ow!”

“Jesus, Y/N! Lay back!” Casey complained, trying to sound stern but really just sounding worried. She stood and gently shoved your body back down into the pillows. “I think we broke her brain, Alex.”

“Psst!” you hissed at them, your impaired brain feeling inexplicably salty about being left out of their conversation.

“What, you dork!?” Casey exclaimed.

You squinted conspiratorially at them. “Do we… you know?...”

Casey and Alex swiveled their heads to look at each other, then collectively burst out laughing again.

“Oh, yeah,” Casey assured you.

“We sure do,” Alex added.

“All three!?”

They nodded at you, still chuckling.

“Wow. Jesus fucking Christ. Am I dreaming right now!?”

“Believe it or not, no,” Casey said, watching as your eyes fluttered between open and shut. You needed to sleep. She could tell.

She ran her thumb across your eyebrows and down the bridge of your nose, back and forth, back and forth. A surefire way to put you to sleep. Alex and Casey knew all your tricks.

You exhaled deeply, trying so hard to keep your eyes open.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Casey whispered lovingly. “When you wake up you’ll remember.”

You mumbled as you drifted between sleeping and waking. “I’m not tired. I can’t be tired, I have two girlfriends to take care of.”

Alex and Casey smiled at one another. Alex stood and wrapped her arms around Casey’s waist, planting a kiss on her cheek as they watched you fall asleep.

“Two girlfriends,” you continued, your words losing volume and speed. “The nicest, smartest, prettiest girlfriends. So pretty. So many boobs.”

“God, I wish we’d recorded this,” Casey whispered, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before leaning back in her chair.

Alex dropped her phone onto Casey’s lap, the screen showing an active voice recording.

Casey fist-pumped silently, pulling Alex down by the collar for a quick kiss.

“I love you,” Casey said, unlocking Alex’s phone to send herself the recording.

“I love you, too,” Alex chuckled. She foraged in her bag by the door before pulling her chair close to you, propping up a book with one hand and holding yours with the other. “I love our girl, Case.”

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Casey observed, smiling softly and shaking her head at your drugged, sleeping form. “How’d we get so lucky?”

“Pure, dumb luck,” Alex decided, flipping a page and absentmindedly rubbing the back of your hand.

Casey stood and stretched, then slumped onto the sorry excuse for a couch in the corner of the room, kicking off her shoes.

“I’m exhausted,” she groaned, pulling off one sock and then the other. “It’s a good thing we weren’t both out of town this weekend. I was up all night with her before she finally agreed to go to the hospital. Stubborn asshole.”

“Reminds me of someone else I know.”

“Shut up, Alex,” Casey protested, grinning, before throwing a sock at her.

“Why don’t you sleep?” Alex suggested, ignoring the sock on the floor next to her. “Get some rest, honey. I’ll wake you when she’s up again.”

Casey nodded and folded her arms over her chest, letting herself drift off, snoring softly as she always did and always swore she didn’t.

Alex set down her book and looked at her two sleepy girls, knowing there wasn’t a thing in the world she wouldn’t do for you and Casey.

“So fucking lucky,” she whispered, drawing your hand to her lips to kiss your knuckles.

#casey novak #alex cabot #casey noak x alex cabot x reader #alex cabot x casey novak x reader #casey novak drabble #alex cabot drabble #casey novak one shot #alex cabot one shot #casey novak fluff #alex cabot fluff #svu #law and order svu #sickfic #polyamory #poly triad #throuple #poly representation

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the-cosmic-teapot · 2 months

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To Be Loved By Nanami Kento

Nanami x reader

WC: 10,705

TW: Slight age gap (4 years), Canon-compliant, fluff, angst, canon-typical gore, big emotions, Nanami is such a gentleman, drinking, reader gets very drunk (Shoko), kinda steamy but no smut, marriage, family, Not a happy ending (ANGST!!!)

*Not proofread (my husband said his word limit is 5,000)

Summary: The story of how you and Nanami fall in love.

A/N: Hi pals, it's been a minute (like a couple months, oops)! This has been in the works for the majority of that time, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it until now. Let me know if you all like the longer fics or if I should break them up into parts instead. Also, I am looking for more proofreaders, if you are interested message me. As always, feedback is welcome!

P.S- The reader has a cursed technique that is using electrical energy and the gloves are what is used to conduct the energy.

~Cosmic

June 2012

High school graduates are left with difficult decisions to make upon the end of their education. Differing from a typical student, graduating from Jujutsu High in Tokyo meant alternate career options; choosing to become a sorcerer, or leaving the world of Jujutsu for a mundane job. As you pack up your home of the past three years, you ponder this quandary as boxes of memories are put away one by one. On one hand, you were trained alongside some of the best sorcerers in generations, and, if we’re being honest, you’re one of them. Now on the other lives a normal life, and a normal job. One where you don’t face nearly as high a mortality rate. You could find love, have a normal family, and you could live in ignorance of your fellow sorcerers’ sacrifices.

Moving out of the dorms at Jujutsu High was bittersweet, you have a lot of memories with your friends, and even a sparse few with Gojo– as annoying as he can be. You found a nice apartment right outside of the business district in Tokyo and you were even up to get promoted to a grade one sorcerer. Things are looking up for you and your new independent life.

Before you were able to fully get the rank of grade one sorcerer you needed to do a few missions with current grade one sorcerers, which is now what you were being sent to do. Usually, you worked with Mei Mei because your personalities meshed well, unlike your fighting styles, but this time was different. Before you stood a tall, well-built man with blonde hair in a suit. The tan suit was a bit plain, but his bright blue button-down and patterned tie really stands out. Ijichi explained what grade-one curse this man and you needed to eradicate in an abandoned nursing home in Osaka. The man, Nanami, is to pick you up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight as opposed to driving through the night to get there.

As you packed a small bag with a few necessities– the return flight was the following afternoon– you wondered why it took so long to meet Nanami. By the end of your second year, you had met most all of the grade one sorcerers from one gathering or another, but not Nanami. You had a few options now, you could look him up on social media or ask Gojo about the very muscular man. You decided on the former because Gojo would endlessly tease you for asking, plus you could stalk him online from the comfort of your bed. From your extensive research, you learned that there was not a trace of Nanami online other than a post from Gojo a year ago that tagged a deactivated account. Now you either have to ask Gojo or the even more embarrassing option of trying to make small talk with Nanami tomorrow. You were at a loss, was teasing from Gojo worth learning more about the undeniably attractive man? Nanami seems the type to not talk much, so small talk may not even tell you more about him.

Your phone dings as the latest episode of a trashy show’s credits roll. You didn’t have the number saved, but you could quickly tell it was Nanami because of the overly formal language and punctuation of the message. He asked about where he should pick you up and if you wanted him to grab coffee before getting you. As you respond you also internally scream as this man keeps getting more attractive and you’ve met him once. Is it weird to be this attracted to a man you’ve just met? You suppose it doesn’t matter much, it was just a superficial attraction at best now.

The following morning you wake up and get ready as usual, skincare, a little makeup, and finally getting dressed. You grab the overnight bag and your backpack for the trip there and head down to the lobby to wait for Nanami. After doing one final look over to make sure you weren't forgetting anything you finally leave and lock up your apartment. When you get to the lobby Nanami is already there holding his phone, probably about to call you.

“Ah, good. You’re punctual, do you have all of your equipment ready to go?” You give a quick nod knowing you placed your sleek black gloves in the front pouch of your backpack. “Good, let’s go then,” Nanami said. He was in another suit, not a hair out of place. Without another word, he took the overnight bag and began to walk out to his car.

He placed your stuff in the trunk of the modern black car and got the passenger side door for you. God, he truly is a gentleman. The interior of his car is clean and smells like a new car scent. You noticed a pastry on the middle console and two coffees in the cup holder after getting comfy for the quick trip to the airport.

“I got you a strawberry Danish, as well as the coffee, I hope you like it,” Nanami says as he buckles in and starts the car. He adjusts his glasses, and checks before backing out of the 20-minute parking spot.

“Actually, I’m allergic to strawberries… but thank you for the coffee and thinking of me!” You said with an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling bad that he wasted his money on you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Nanami spoke. “I’ll keep that in mind next time” You give him a small ‘hump’ as acknowledgement.

The drive to the airport is quick, the bright lights of Tokyo pass by in a blur together in a rainbow of color. You wonder what this mission will entail, this was a grade-one curse, so Nanami could handle this alone if needed; theoretically, you should be able to do the same. Being this close to Nanami was strange, it felt almost intimate in the dark morning. You could smell the cologne he was wearing and the heat coming off of his body. He smelled amazing, woody and smokey, with notes of whisky.

Soon enough you notice Nanami pulling into a parking garage and getting a ticket and finding a parking space. Getting out you go to grab your overnight bag but Nanami already has it in hand with his.

“I can get my bag if you want.” You said quickly. “You really don’t need to.” You say to the back of the tall man as he walks away.

“It’s fine, it’s not heavy.” He said plainly, walking towards the walkway to the check-in desks. His steps are quick and driven by efficiency. You could tell he will be much more professional than Mei Mei, and way harder to get a read on.

As the plane lands you listen to the flight attendant about the typical unloading procedures, you worry about the mission and whether you will make a fool out of yourself in front of a grade-one sorcerer, especially one as attractive as Nanami. You remember this feeling when working with Mei Mei for the first time too. After you get your backpack from the floor you reach into the overhead compartment for your other bag but Nanami already has it in hand.

“I told you I’ve got your bag, '' Nanami says, bending down to get his bag on the floor. You shivered at the thought of him being so close to you.

“Okay, if you really don’t mind,” you say blushing slightly, moving to get off of the plane trailing after Nanami.

When you leave the airport the sun is shining and there is a small breeze. It ruffles Nanami’s hair making him look even more divine than he already does. He hails a cab to go to the hotel so you can check in and go over what intel you have on the cursed spirit. The cab ride was uneventful at best, but your anxiety was through the roof. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat and the sweat covering your palms.

You zone out sitting on one of the chairs with your and Nanami’s things while he checks into your rooms. Suddenly, he appears in front of you with a disgruntled look across his sharp, perfect features. He explains that the hotel screwed up and only has one room (and one bed) available at the moment, he runs a hand through his pristine hair and sighs.

“We can look for other hotels in the area if you are uncomfortable sharing a room, or I can sleep on the couch,” Nanami says in his usual tone. “The woman at the desk said that the former may be unlikely because there are a few conventions in town.” He runs a hand through his hair again, staring down at you through his glasses.

“I don’t mind staying here, but I can take the couch.” You say it is not fair that he has already done so much for you. “I can sleep almost anywhere.” You say, which was a little lie, but it’s one night. Plus, you are considerably smaller than Nanami, he towers over you and he is broader than you because of the bulk of his muscles.

“We can talk about sleeping arrangements when we get settled tonight.” He says after a moment of silence. Nanami walks away back to the desk and finishes checking in.

He comes back with two keys in hand and moves to get your bags. You look up at him and take the cards so he has his hands free for the bags. The walk to the room was silent, as was moving around to get settled into the nice room. There is a sort of living room then a small hallway with the bathroom on one side and a closet on the other and finally, the bedroom section was at the back. The bed is massive, most likely a king, and there is a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the foot of the bed. You stand at the window taking in the view of the city and ponder how this mission will go. Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves you move back to the living room area with Nanami sitting on a comically small couch.

“So, the nursing home isn’t far from here, we can walk there,” Nanami said, looking at the packet with all of the information gathered for this mission. He moved over and motioned for you to join him on the couch. As you sit next to him you realize how small the couch really is, it’s more of an oversized armchair. “The curse shouldn’t take too long to exercise, but there are bound to be more, lower grade curses.” He adjusts his glasses and hands the packet to you as he moves to get up.

You look over the packet and see that the building has been abandoned for a few years after the owners were convicted of selling deceased residents organs without the families’ knowledge or approval. The building has recently been the site of the disappearance of teens, which has made more teens want to break in and do whatever teens do when they break into buildings. The local police have put locks on the doors and tape up to discourage more teens from entering, but this did little to dissuade them. This is why Nanami and you were called here, the 10 missing teens were concerning and the confirmed presence of a curse made this case a top priority for the higher-ups in Jujutsu society.

Nanami lowered the veil over the condemned building and you slipped your gloves on, as you both took in the large structure. It was at least three stories high and there was mention of a basement for laundry from the packet. The smell of mold and mildew hit you in the face as soon as Nanami opened the door. There was graffiti all over the place and vines and weeds sprouting up from the cracked concrete and broken windows.

You mention splitting up to make the search go quicker, Nanami told you to focus on looking for the missing kids while he looks for the grade one curse. Of course, this is not how the mission goes, you run into a horde of grade three and lower curses in the basement hallway. As you fight them off you begin to hear the sobs of a few girls. You make your way to a locked door where you very clearly hear crying, knocking on it, and saying you were here to help. When the door opens about five girls no older than fifteen are trembling and latching on to you for dear life.

You introduce yourself to them and tell them that your partner and you will try your best to get them out safely. They all mention seeing some of the others they were with being dragged away but not killed in front of them. You shoot a text to Nanami about the girls you found and begin to lead the shaking, but not crying, girls out of the basement and to the outside of the building. Nanami joins you a few minutes after getting the girls out and mentions how you did well.

Going back into the buildings after talking to the girls a bit more to gather more information about the groups they came from. After another hour of searching you find the bodies of three of the boys, all drained of blood leaned up against a wall on the ground floor. It was shocking to see that a curse did not mutilate the young boys. You move on to the next floor where you run into Nanami and he mentions finding two boys on the verge of death that he brought outside and tended to their wounds.

Wandering around a bit more you finally come across the grade one curse, its cursed energy was intense. The spirit looks like its melting bodies together, one pile of flesh with multiple eyes and appendages. The largest of their eyes is brown and vertical in the center of the mass and quickly takes notice of Nanami and you and begins to attack, flailing arms and legs towards you and Nanami. You were first to strike the curse with a zap of your cursed technique directly to the center eye. Nanami, quick to follow, slashed a few limbs off with his blunt sword. Flowing through the motions of a fight, zaps, a few punches, and maybe a kick to the curse was the easy part. The more difficult part was knowing if you were doing enough to impress Nanami or at least not look like a complete idiot in front of him. With a final right hook into the curse imbued with your technique, the curse jolted back and collapsed into a disintegrating heap on the dirty floor.

“Good, you did well,” Nanami says calmly while swiftly dispelling the blood from his blade in a singular smooth motion.

The walk back to the hotel is significantly less awkward for you mostly because you were actually talking now, and not weird small talk. This was an actual conversation, about what you enjoy, what books you like, and so forth. You had a lot in common with the stoic man, you both enjoyed cooking and reading, much preferred over going out. You were beginning to toe the line between a schoolgirl crush based on superficial attraction into a full-blown crush, born from knowing his brain. There are a few outcomes, all but one of which will fragment your heart into millions of pieces. This is dangerous territory you are beginning to tread.

Back at the hotel you shower and take time to get the sweat and blood off of you. The hot shower felt like heaven on your sore muscles and the steam began to fog the mirror. You wash your hair with your shampoo and conditioner while you think about the day. The thoughts quickly drift from the nursing home and the teenagers you saved to the dashing man sitting outside. He is hard to not fall for, he’s charming and his looks could rival that of a man sculpted by the gods. In addition to his stunning looks his personality seems to be a perfect fit for your own. The list of Nanami’s attributes just seems to grow with the amount of time you spend with him.

Meanwhile, the blonde man sitting outside on the couch begins working on the report for the case. He begins recounting the day’s events, typing it all out in the correct format. All of the events from what was known to the final death count of the curse. Once again, Nanami’s life became mundane; getting sent on missions, exercising the cursed spirit, typing up a report, and repeating. When he got off of work he would make dinner, maybe try a new wine, most nights were the same for him. Being sent away from Tokyo was a nice change, but not much of one, now he would just have dinner out. However, now there was someone else with him. Someone who he wants to get to know, someone who he can see as a friend.

He has thought of dating, but with his re-entrance into the world of Jujutsu that will be difficult. There is no way for him to have a “normal” life when he faces death every day. He cannot put someone he loves in a position to mourn him, he has been down this road before and it hurts. Honestly, part of the reason Nanami left after graduation was because he didn’t want to see more of his colleagues fall; moreover, he did not want to see his juniors fall even more so. Despite this, he found himself back in the world of Jujutsu; sitting here with you in the shower.

When Nanami was told he would be paired with a semi-grade one sorcerer he thought the person would look more intimidating, not the small, cute form he met the day prior. He was pleasantly surprised this morning when you were right on time when he came to pick you up. In the car, he could smell your hair products– vanilla and jasmine– as well as notice how you anxiously fidget with your hands. You were efficient in the airport, which he admired very much, as opposed to Gojo, who would stroll in an hour before his flight with little care about missing it entirely.

Nanami finishes the report and he hears you step out of the shower. He stands, stretches, and then heads for his bag to gather his clothes to get ready to shower. As he makes sure he has grabbed all of his necessities– underwear, pants, and a top– his phone dings. Sitting back on the bed with his stuff sitting neatly on the dresser he reads a text from Gojo asking about how you both were getting along. Nanami opted to send a short, nondescript text on how you performed today.

When you finally leave the warm, steamy bathroom you see Nanami sitting on the bed tapping away at his phone, presumably texting. You move your stuff into your bag as your stomach growls very loudly. In your squatting position, you make eye contact with Nanami who now has his clothing in hand to shower and clean up for dinner.

“I’m going to excuse myself, I’d suggest looking up where you want to eat,” Nanami says standing to his full height, making you feel smaller as he has to tilt his head further down as he does.

“Okay, I can do that,” you say, zipping up your bag and grabbing socks and your bag with your wallet and other necessities to go out.

As Nanami stepped into the still-warm and steamy bathroom he could smell your lotion and perfume. Everything smelled like you, even the other towels that are folded under the sink; it’s a smell that is just as intoxicating as the most expensive bottle of wine he’s sampled. He peeled his blue shirt off his body and began the shower, the hot water and steam fogging up the mirror again. Slipping out of his trousers and underwear he steps into the shower with a sigh. He could smell you even more in the shower, the hot steam lifting the remnants of your hair products to his nose directly.

Nanami thought about the day and Gojo’s text. As with most things, Gojo most likely had another intention than the one Nanami initially interpreted. Nanami could not let himself wonder what it would be like to pursue you in any capacity other than friendship; not even for a moment. There is no denying you are attractive and he could tell that you shared a lot of his interests. He pushes these thoughts of what can never be out of his mind so he can finish his shower and get to dinner.

You go with a small sushi place with good reviews online and Nanami truly did not mind you picking. Initially, you had given him three options and he was indifferent to all of them. This was new to you because when you went with Gojo he would insist on going to his pick, given he always paid so you had no qualms.

Walking alongside Nanami was strange, his muscular frame towered over yours and looked ten times more intimidating than you with just his resting face unobscured by the armless glasses he wore. The evening air was cooling down from the high temperatures of the day and a soft breeze flowing and it made Nanami’s hair flow slightly from its perfect position atop his head. He was in a light green sweater and light-wash jeans, which was such a change from his typical suit and tie. Casual suited him, as well as his scent without cologne, it was fresh and kind of minty.

Getting to the restaurant you seat yourself at a nice table near the window. A server stops by to give you menus and welcome you to the establishment. As you look over the menu you fail to notice how Nanami looks at you. Your hair was pulled back with a few strands falling out around your face, framing it nicely. He thought about what a normal life would be like, how it would be to be in a relationship without the threat of death, and most of all what it would be like to be loved by someone. He once again found himself pushing these thoughts out of his mind.

The night flows seamlessly from dinner to a little cafe for coffee and dessert. Conversation hardly stopped from when you sat down for dinner to now, in this cute little cafe with cat-themed decor adorning the walls. You were the last two in the cafe with the barista cleaning the counter and display case. This is a night you didn’t want to end, everything has been amazing, from conversation to food, and finally Nanami. The more time you spent with Nanami the more you wanted to spend with him. His presence is intoxicating.

As you walk back to your hotel there is a light air between you both. The moon is bright and shines on the pair of you. He is close, very close, his arm is close to brushing with yours. To an unsuspecting eye, you looked like a beautiful young couple.

Getting back to the hotel room faced you with the dilemma of the one bed. Nanami initially said he could sleep on the couch, but seeing how large he is compared to the overgrown armchair that had to be out of the question. You could take the couch, but something told you he would never let that happen.

Nanami once again let you take the bathroom first. You dug through your bag for your shorts and oversized tee shirt to get changed into. When you open the bathroom door you see Nanami’s toiletries on the counter opposite your own. What would Nanami be like to live with, being able to see your things with his? He seems like the type of person who has a solid routine and rarely deviates from that. After washing your face and undressing you fold your pants and top neatly to put on for the trip home. The silky shorts felt nice after your legs had been confined all day and the tee shirt fell over the hem of them perfectly.

Nanami is waiting on the bed with his sleepwear folded neatly beside him. When he looks up at you his hair falls away from his face, most likely from the lack of product. He is so handsome in the dim lighting of the hotel room. You both begin to speak only to stop when you realize the other wants to say something. You smile slightly at the usually awkward situation.

“You can go first,” Nanami said, standing to his full height. His hair shifting subtly with his change in position.

“Oh, um, I’m all done in the bathroom,” you said, fidgeting with your clothing you still have in hand.

“Ah, I was going to say that you can take the bed because I really don’t mind,” He said in that deep voice. The voice that could make angels weep.

“That couch is too small for you, if anything I can actually fit on it to sleep,” you say as you move to place your clothing on the dresser opposite the bed. “We could also share the bed if you really won’t let me take the couch,” you say without thinking of the implications of what this fully means.

The air seems to stand still as you both process what you just said. Nanami is a man you just met no more than twenty-four hours prior, and you mentioned you could share a bed. If this were anyone else you would call them crazy for how risky that is with a strange man. Given, Nanami is not entirely strange, he seems to have some set of moral compass given how he is dead set on taking the couch. Your face is completely flushed red and Nanami is sporting a light pink blush as well. Why did you have to say that?

“I, um,” he paused, coughing a little, “I don’t mind taking the couch,” Nanami says, slightly blushing at the thought of sleeping next to you. The smell of your soap and lotion still stuck in his nose and mind, the sweet notes of vanilla and the floral ones of the jasmine would keep him up all night. Nanami also knew he would be too stressed trying to be respectful of your space that he would not sleep at all if he had to share a bed with you. “The couch will be okay for one night, I promise I will be okay there.” He finishes still sporting a faint blush across his sharp cheeks.

You take a breath trying to calm down. “Are you sure?” You asked for a final time, still feeling guilty he will probably not get any sleep on the couch.

“Yes, I would not have said so if I didn’t mean it,” Nanami says firmly, looking at you directly.

You both hold eye contact for a moment, the air thick between your bodies. It feels like you both want to say something, but words don’t come to either of you. His hazel eyes are intense as they still don’t leave your face. You feel your heart rate spike from being under his gaze. Your face could rival a prize-winning tomato for how red you are; Nanami is faring better, at least on the surface. All of his thoughts from earlier, all of the thoughts of a normal life were flooding back into his mind and he couldn’t shove them away fast enough. You are dangerous because there is something about you that makes Nanami feel like he could be with you in that way.

The moment is ruined by the phone ringing in the other room, flashing with the extension from the front desk. Nanami takes another second, keeping your gaze before he answers. You are not paying attention to who is on the other end because you are trying your hardest to calm down. It feels like you’ve just run a mile without prep with how you need to catch your breath.

“That was the front desk,” Nanami cuts through your thoughts with his clear, stern voice. “Another group canceled their reservation, so a room on the second floor is now available,” he continues, clearing his throat. “I need to go to the front desk to sort everything out, but now we both have a bed,” he says walking to put his shoes on.

Nanami is gone for twenty minutes, but it feels like an instant. You try to resume your nighttime routine while he is gone, but you keep getting distracted by your thoughts of that moment. Your flushed cheeks and his intense stare seared into your mind as if it were branded there with a hot iron.

When Nanami comes back into your room he silently packs his things to move into his own room. You observe him, being as still as you can, scared to move too quickly as if he will disappear like a stray cat. Once all his things are packed he stands tall in front of your seated position on the bed. His posture is impeccable, as he tells you his room number and how the hotel comped one of the rooms because of the inconvenience. As you look up at him his hot gaze is already on you, as if he were studying for an exam. You quietly respond with a soft ‘okay’ and ‘Good night’.

When you wake the next morning you feel calmer, more at ease than the prior night. You were so warm up last night that you took another shower just to try and calm your buzzing body and mind, not that it did much. Nanami was not much better, he was thankful to whatever deity granted him a room away from you. His thoughts were muddled and the clarity he was used to was gone. As he finally drifted to sleep he thought of how the atmosphere shifted in that instant before the phone call.

Nanami let you know he would meet you in the lobby around 8 to catch your 11 o’clock flight. As you leave for the airport you do a swift look over of the room to make sure you didn’t forget anything. The room felt so much more empty sans Nanami, his large frame taking up physical space, but his aura taking up infinitely more. His presence is warm and calm, much unlike your own anxious one.

The morning trip to the airport, as well as the airport itself, passes by in an instant. Now you sit at the gate waiting for your flight home; Nanami is on the hunt for coffee, as the hotel only had drip coffee. You are wasting time staring at the pages of a book you weren’t reading, too lost in thought. As a hand with a take-out coffee cup impedes your view and the smell of fresh pastry hits your nose.

“I got peach this time,” Nanami says with a small smile, handing you a bag along with your coffee. He is back in his jeans and sweater from last night, much as you are in the same outfit.

You take the coffee and bag and give thanks to the man now eating his own. The rest of the morning goes much like this, quiet and at ease. There is no tension between you, and you wonder if this is what it is like to date Nanami. Are all of his mornings quiet and tranquil?

Nanami drops you off at your apartment and, as the true gentleman he is, gets your stuff out to hand to you. As you walk away from him you can feel his warmth leave you. This trip was a whirlwind. Nanami is attractive and his personality is unmatched by anyone you’ve met, but he is a coworker now. Plus, he gave no indication that he is interested in you, outside of that moment. That moment could have been anything and he is hard to read so you chose to match his level of professionalism. At this point, the best you can do is friends, which is okay.

April 2014

So much has changed in the past two years after graduating high school. You’ve gotten to know yourself more, honed your fighting techniques, and become better friends with former classmates and coworkers. Soon after your mission with Nanami, you were promoted to a full-fledged grade one sorcerer, you gathered from Gojo that Nanami’s recommendation was glowing.

Currently, you are sitting opposite Gojo in a cafe as you both talk about your plans for your upcoming birthday. The lanky man sitting across from you suggested going all out, after all, you are now an actual adult who can drink. Your speed was more like a small group of people and dinner, not the rager Gojo was already planning. Try as you might Gojo is truly an unstoppable force, and his party planning is quickly getting away from you.

“Gojo, I am not having a massive party, my apartment is only large enough for a few people,” you sigh. “I’ll have dinner with a few friends, but nothing more,” you sternly say to the white-haired man.

“But that’s so boring, we did that last year,” he whined as if your birthday was supposed to entertain him.

Most of your afternoon went on like this because Gojo is, well, Gojo. On the bright side, he did pay for your coffee and treats. You have some paperwork to finish, but other than that you are free for the weekend. Gojo drops you off at your office muttering something about leaving it for Monday.

As you quickly work through the sparse papers on your desk you hear a firm knock, clearly Nanami. Gojo would just burst in and Shoko’s knocks are short and quiet. In the nearly two years you’ve known Nanami, and in that time he has become one of your closest friends. He is the one you go to new museum exhibits with and the one you try new cafes with after said museum outings.

“Come in,” you say, not looking up from the last form you needed to fill out. You sigh for a moment as Nanami’s footsteps enter your office.

“Hey, I saw you were still here and I wanted to see if you wanted to leave together,” Nanami says, looking down at you with a peacoat draped over his arm. “That is if you are almost done.”

“Oh, umm, yeah,” you say, still not looking at him. “I just need to sign off on this and submit it,” you say sighing as you stand to get your stuff. “Where were you wanting to go?” You ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“I was thinking of that new ramen place near yours,” He says holding his hand out to take your bag, “but I am up to suggestions.”

“Great, I just need to run by Yaga’s office to turn these in,” you say smiling at him as you turn off the lights and close your door.

The walk to Yaga’s office is the same as it always is, hallways blurring together. You are looking through the papers making sure everything is in order and Nanami is lost in his own mind. In the time Nanami has known you, you’ve nestled yourself into his life seamlessly. After that first mission in Osaka, the pair of you worked on a few more local missions until you were a full-fledged grade-one sorcerer. Even after that, you made a point to spend time with Nanami, to be his friend. That is something he admires about you, you put so much effort into everything you do; sometimes to your own detriment.

You have an aura to you that draws him in, something that makes Nanami want to know everything about you; not just the superficial things anyone can figure out, but the more intimate things like what your nighttime routine is and how you look when you first wake up. These things are small, but he wants them; he wants you in your entirety, mind, body, and soul.

Nanami came to these conclusions one night after drinking with you, Gojo, and Shoko. He initially turned down Gojo, but when you asked he couldn’t find it in him to decline when he looked into your bright, beautiful eyes. While going out is not his preferred way to spend a night, especially on a Thursday, he thought your presence made it bearable. Especially when you would join in on teasing Gojo with Shoko after a few drinks. After that night Nanami vowed to keep his feelings to himself because you didn’t deserve him, he is a broken man who cannot promise you tomorrow. In his mind, being your friend was better than not being in your life at all.

You were finally able to talk Gojo out of a big party at a club in exchange for dinner at your favorite place and a few drinks afterward. Music is loudly blaring from your phone as you get ready in the bathroom, hot water running over your figure. You think of what to wear, taking into consideration the temperature and the cute-to-comfy ratio of your outfit. When you step out of the shower, you go through your normal routine, taking more time on makeup and hair. Now you stand in front of your closet wondering what to wear. You could go with jeans and a sweater, but that’s what you wear when you normally go out; this is a special night, so maybe a little discomfort is okay. You pick out a short, light pink dress with poofy mesh sleeves and a flowy skirt. You also opt to put stockings with a criss-cross pattern on them under your dress. As you situate the stockings at the top of your thighs your phone dings and lights up.

‘Hey, I was thinking we could head over to the restaurant together so you don’t have to walk alone’ read the text from Nanami. It is not unusual for Nanami to pick you up to go somewhere, but it doesn’t happen as much as you’d like.

After that first mission with Nanami, you were thankful he seemed to want to be friends too, but never anything more. In the past two years, you’ve only grown to like the tall blonde more. He makes sure that you don’t overwork yourself, but rather that you get paid for the work you complete. When he can he also delivers coffee and a pastry. With every coffee delivery, you felt yourself fall a few more meters, you have yet to hit the ground.

You shoot a short ‘yes’ and go about finishing your look for the night. Thinking of Nanami makes you heat up, more than usual that is. There are a few reasons for this, but the main reason being you’ll look like you’re going on a date walking to the restaurant together. That thought alone made you squeal like a schoolgirl.

A curt knock rings through your apartment, signaling Nanami’s arrival, and pulling you out of your head. As you answer your door you notice Nanami has a gift bag in hand, presumably for you. You signal for him to come in and greet him, mentioning something about not being quite ready yet. Digging through your jewelry box for a necklace you ramble about your day to Nanami, who responds with grunts and nods, not that you could see him as he is in the living room.

Nanami fills you in on how his day has been as you walk side-by-side to the restaurant. He is self-conscious, something he has not been since high school, because you look amazing, and he just has a dark grey sweater on with nice pants. The dress is just short enough to see the upper parts of your thighs, but not so short that it is immodest. Nanami tries to not stare too much, but he really can’t given how well the stockings hug your things. The plush fat of them bludged slightly from the restriction from the stockings. This outfit is driving him insane– you are driving him insane. Just for a moment, Nanami allows him to wonder what it would be like to have you look this good for him, and him alone.

As you reach the restaurant you stop Nanami just shy of the entry, so as to not obscure the entry. He gives you a questioning look, and you just stare back at him with wide eyes. Words fail to escape your mouth as you look into his dreamy eyes. You try to start a sentence multiple times, but nothing ever reaches your mouth. Of course, he looks amazing, the sweater with the collar from a button down underneath. As you finally find the words to say Gojo begins yelling from down the block. You break away from the moment with Nanami and turn just in time for Gojo to pull you into a hug. Shoko is not far behind the lanky man as she holds two gifts, one hers and the other probably Gojo’s.

The host seats you all at a booth in the corner of the restaurant, and lights dim for the atmosphere. You slide into the space next to the wall and Nanami follows suit, sitting close to you at the smallish table. Gojo is directly across from you and Shoko is across from Nanami. Conversation flows, as do some drinks with dinner, and the food comes and goes. You feel a light buzz from the two drinks– one from Gojo and one from Shoko– as you prepare to pay your bill. The waiter comes back to divide up the bill and you all hand in your cards and discuss where to go next, as the drink portion is to appease Gojo.

The bar Gojo chooses has soft music playing and comfy sitting areas, the best for conversation. Nanami offers to get you a vodka cranberry, your drink of choice, while you find somewhere to sit. Shoko, being the woman she is, kept getting round after round of drinks. You are certain that you are mostly alcohol now, you cannot see straight and you didn’t want to try walking, in fear that your choice of platform boots will make you fall over.

Nanami can tell you are out of it, your eyes are not focused on anything in particular, and you are no longer talking in more than one-word answers. He closed out at the bar and told Gojo and Shoko he was taking you home, so as to not cause you more harm in the morning.

As you focus on Shoko complaining about some of the new changes to her duties from the higher ups you feel Nanami’s warm hand on your back. He looks down at you with concern, not that you can particularly tell right now. His deep voice is calming and rich, like the most decadent chocolate as he bids Gojo and Shoko goodbye. He makes sure you have everything, including the new mug from Gojo and the two wine glasses from Shoko.

When you step outside with Nanami still holding on to you the cool April air hits your face, causing you to shiver slightly. Nanami opts to hail a cab, mostly because he is not sure how far you can walk. As one pulls to the side Nanami puts you in the back and walks around to the other side for himself. You cling to him as soon as he sits, and you are not wanting to let go. He tells the driver your address and just lets you cling to him as if he is your lifeline.

This is nice, your hair smells just how it did when he first met you. Nanami once again lets himself think of what it would be like to have this all the time; you pressed against his body while you go to a shared home. He thinks back to what you were trying to say before dinner, before Gojo ruined it– typical.

The ride to your building is quick. Nanami pays and tips the driver and practically hoists you to stand. He can tell you are close to crashing, your body heavy, and your movements lethargic. At this point, he thinks about carrying you, as it may be easier than standing at an awkward angle holding you up, but decides against it so as to not cross any boundaries.

When he opens your door you struggle to take off your shoes and leave them in a pile on the floor, a problem for later you. You drunkenly stumble through your apartment with Nanami in tow as you try to undress. The zipper on the back of your dress seems infinitely further than when you zipped yourself into the dress. You break down and ask Nanami, who is standing outside as you change, to help you because you just want to go to bed. As he opens the door he sees you sitting on your bed swaying slightly. He unzips your dress and turns around to give you more privacy, but your perky butt and back are displayed in the full-length mirror he is now facing. You stand still for a minute, in your stockings and lacy pink panties with a matching bra before stumbling into the bathroom. A red-hot blush expands across Nanami’s face as he tries to not stare like a pervert, but there is something about how your ass looks in the lace panties that makes him insane.

Nanami leaves to sit on the couch, so as to not invade your space, trying to calm down from seeing you in such a state of undress, after all, he is just a man. For a third time tonight, he finds his mind wondering what it would be like to see you like this for him. What would it be like to undress you and feel how your soft body would squirm under his touch? What noises could he pull from you? How would you sound moaning his name? He shakes his thoughts away and busies himself with getting aspirin and water for you in hopes of getting rid of his little (massive) problem.

As you reemerge from the bathroom you have no more makeup on and are now in an oversized sweatshirt that reaches the tops of your thighs. You move to lie down and get comfy as Nanami has water and some aspirin in hand for you in the doorway. He gives you the pills first, then the water and you mutter a thanks while yawning. Making sure you don’t need anything more from him, Nanami heads for the door when he hears you, in such a soft voice, ask him to stay. In his tipsy state, he almost misses it, but not quite.

“What was that?” He asks, making sure his ears are in working order. His eyes intently search yours as you answer.

“Can you please stay with me?” you ask again, this time a little louder. “You don’t ha–” He cuts you off with a very quick acceptance and begins to make his way to the other side of your bed.

The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and unbelievably dry throat. You reach for the water on your nightstand and gulp what’s left down in a hurry. Taking a breath, you take in your room, and the large man still asleep next to you. He shed his sweater and button down and is now in a form-fitting white undershirt. Sitting up next to this god among men you take a moment or two to admire Nanami’s form; his massive arms holding one of the cutesy stuffed animals you keep on your bed. Oh to be that stuffed cat.

You get up to get more water and scrounge something to eat from your sparse pantry as your memories trickle back. Your face heats up when you set the tea kettle on the stove as you remember practically begging poor Nanami to stay with you. Given, he wouldn’t have done something unless he wanted to, that much you knew. Does this mean he sees you in a romantic way? Or was this more of him wanting to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit?

Nanami wakes up and quickly realizes he is not in his home, but rather your home. He also realizes you are not in bed with him, but your spot is still lukewarm. The smell of toast and tea wafts into the room as he sits up in bed. As he looks around he sees the stuffed animals strewn about the room, most likely his doing as he slept, as well as the cute white cat he currently holds. You consume his thoughts, millions of them racing in. Why did you ask him to stay? Why did he stay? Could this mean you wanted him too?

Sitting at your small table you have tea and toast, with a cup and plate on the counter waiting for Nanami. You have to talk about last night, but more so how you feel about the typically stoic man. There is no going back to before he slept in your bed, his warm body feeling like the missing puzzle piece in your life. He looked so peaceful sleeping with the sun peeking through the curtains of your room and landing on his sharp features.

Nanami walks into your main living space in his light blue boxers, looking like a Calvin Klein ad. You offer the tea and toast on the counter to the god of a man standing in your home. He takes the seat opposite yours and just looks at you. Your hair is pulled back with a clip with a few pieces near the front falling out, framing you in such a beautiful way. The sun softly shining into your home makes you look ethereal, your beauty outshining Aphrodite.

“I’m sorry,” you say as he takes a sip of the tea. “For last night that is,” you finish avoiding his eyes. You take a deep breath before continuing, “You should know, I like you,” another breath, “in a more than friendly way,” you say, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes. The weight of your words and emotions sit on you like a stone as you await Nanami’s rejection.

“Can you at least look at me when you tell me you love me?” Nanami asks with a small smirk on his pink lips. His eyes meet yours, which are full of sorrow.

“What,” you respond, taken by surprise at his comment. Your brow furrows as you ponder what he could mean. Your sorrow is replaced by confusion.

“For such a smart woman you’re quite dense, aren’t you?” He said still teasing you. “I want your mornings, afternoons, and evenings.” Nanami stands and moves to stand in front of you, his large body looming over you. “I want to be the man you look for in a crowded room, the one you get all dressed up for. I want you– all of you.”

You stare up at him, confused at his sudden burst of affection. His usual stoic demeanor was gone, now replaced by a soft expression on his sharp features. He holds your eyes, waiting for your response.

“Nan-” you stop yourself, now would be the time to use his first name, “Kento, I do look for you in every crowded room, you’re the one I want to give all of my time to.” You stand, still dwarfed by Kento’s massive frame.

Neither of you says anything for a moment, rather just processing what just happened. He leans closer to you and you meet him halfway, having to stand on your toes. The kiss is tentative as if you are both scared that this is some form of a cruel dream. Once your lips touch his everything feels at peace, you have no thoughts other than Kento and his soft lips on yours. As you pull away from the short, but sweet, kiss you both cannot stop the smiles that threaten to break your faces.

He goes in for another kiss, this time with more assurance and passion. His lips are hot and needy as his hands begin to roam your body. Kento’s kisses get more needy and his hands pull at you more and more. Large hands grab at your plush ass as he lifts you to his hips, instinctively, you wrap your legs around his muscular waist. You continue to make out while Kento carefully moves the both of you to your bedroom.

The next few weeks are filled with getting to know Kento in a deeper, more romantic way. As time passes with him you fall even deeper in love, as does he; the only difference now is that you are not scared to hit the ground because he’s there to catch you. You get to see him, who he is at his core, what makes him tick and it is a true honor. There are so many things that are uncertain in your life, but you know Kento will be a constant.

Kento does not believe in soulmates, there is no reason this cruel world would give people that luxury, but you are the closest thing to his. He never thought he would be allowed to have you in the ways he wanted you, but here you are in his arms. The Morning sun shines through his blinds causing you to snuggle closer to his chest. Kento debates getting up and making you breakfast, but decides against it in favor of holding your naked form against his own, just for a little longer.

August 2016

Kento finishes tying his bow tie and does a final look in the bathroom mirror before turning off the lights and leaving to find you. You are in the bedroom sitting at your vanity in a pretty white dress, something shorter because of the less-than-traditional wedding celebration. The dress has short sleeves with lace detailing at the ends that match the lace on the rest of the dress. You look up at Kento as you finish putting your makeup on and smile at your soon-to-be husband.

“The car is almost here darling,” Kento tells you, offering you a hand, a smile matching yours. “You look stunning,” He says, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“So do you my dear,” you say drinking him in, his white form-fitting shirt and light gray suit make you drool at the thought of taking it off of him later tonight. “Ready?”

“More than anything else,” Kento says, the smile still not leaving his perfect features.

The ceremony is short and intimate, just what you and Kento wanted. Nothing too extravagant, but still filled with love. After the ceremony, you and Kento go to a late lunch at your favorite restaurant and just enjoy the day as a married couple. You both sit in a cute little cafe with coffee and dessert. Every once and a while there is the soft clink on Kento’s mug from his ring, the one that matches yours. With each clink, your stomach does flips because you actually got to marry this man.

The rest of the evening is something out of an old film, the couple strolls through the city streets, lit by the moonlight and shop lights. Kento’s hand in yours, you talk about something while he looks like a lovesick puppy. He has an uncharacteristic soft smile across his features because of you. The walk back to your shared apartment is serene and feels right. Nights like this are what you live for, they are simple, but it’s the small moments that make you fall even more in love with Kento. The way he makes sure you have at least two meals a day that are nutritious or the way he makes you feel like you are the most important person in the world– because to him you are.

November 2017

Nights with Kento are quiet and beautiful. On this particular night you lie on his bare chest post-coitus as he strokes your hair gently. You fidget with his wedding band that matches yours, just content to be with him at this moment.

“Hey” Kento says in a soft voice to grab your attention, “how would you feel about having kids?” He asks, looking down at you. “Mine specifically” he clarifies.

“I would love to have your kids, but do you really think we’re ready?” you ask not knowing if you were ready for such a big change to your life. “I mean, we would need to get a bigger place and work seems to never stop.” You ramble on for a little about your anxieties of parenthood and Kento just looks at you with admiration.

“We have enough to buy a townhouse or condo if that is the biggest concern,” Kento says, softly petting your hair.

October 30th 2018

You are abruptly awoken by a loud cry from down the hall of your pristine townhouse. The noise is not foreign to you, as it once was, but more of a routine, a signal to get up and prepare to feed or change the small girl, Yukie, lying in her crib. Kento usually handles the random 3 AM cries, but he has been so worn out recently because he has been training another student, as per Gojo’s request. As you get out of the warm embrace of your husband he grunts and moves to his stomach.

Just a few doors from your own is your daughter’s, who is in the cutest pink and green flower onesie. You pull her from her crib and get situated to feed her in the comfy chair in the corner of the obscenely pink room— Kento’s doing. The monotony of feeding pulls you into your own thoughts now that your bundle of sunshine has quieted down.

Having a kid with Kento has made you want more because of the attentive husband he was during your pregnancy and how amazing of a father he is. He never complains about getting up in the middle of the night or having to do his errands with her strapped to his chest (seeing him in the baby bjorn for the first time almost made you jump him in the middle of the kitchen). Kento is truly the ideal man to have your children with because of his evercalm disposition, which you saw crack when he held your daughter for the first time in the harsh lighting in the hospital room.

In the morning you feel light and airy, as if you are floating a few centimeters off the ground as you are making eggs and toast. Kento and your daughter having tummy time in the living room; her bright laugh and babbles are followed by Kento’s soft chuckles and coos encouraging her. Mornings like this are the ones you live for, even if you are exhausted and have bags the size of checked luggage under your eyes. The quiet mundane life is all you need to feel complete, to feel at peace with yourself and the world.

Kento’s voice breaks through your thoughts, “Love, I have to work tomorrow night.” He says strapping your daughter into her high chair. “I know you had some cute costumes and plans for Yukie’s first Halloween, but this is unavoidable.” Disappointment evident in his voice as he runs his hand through his hair.

“Is everything okay?...” You trail off wondering what is so important that they would call Kento in when he’s supposed to work less because of his daughter. “I mean, I know there are more curses active around holidays, but do you really have to go in?”

“Yaga said almost everyone active is needed, not much else though.” He says looking at you while Yukie plays with his fingers. You can’t help but feel anxiety creep up in the back of your mind.

Thoughts are coming in from all over the place, what’s going on that Kento needs to work? Of course Kento is one of the best sorcerers, but is this a mission he needs to be on? What is going on?

The following evening you make a quick dinner so Kento has something on his stomach for what will probably be a long night ahead of him. As the rice noodles are finishing Kento walks into the room with his suit and tie on. He looks as good as the day you met him all those years ago. Kento gets two plates down with utensils and glasses for himself and you, as well as mashed peas and carrots for Yukie.

This domestic bliss will return after this mission, at least until the next year, when Kento needs to go back full time. Yukie is giggling as Kento is tickling her on the floor before getting her into her chair for dinner. He is her favorite person in the entire world, she will always reach for him when he comes home, drop everything the second he comes into her line of sight.

As you set the plates down on the small dining room table Kento comes with Yukie’s bib and food in hand. The rest of dinner is filled with babbles from Yukie and light conversation as you and Kento dance around the elephant in the room. Kento brings up wanting to take the last two weeks in December off to finally travel to Malaysia; which you fully agree with because you could both use a change in scenery.

Kento starts to gather his equipment and leave after Yukie is put down for bed. The house is silent, and you are stuck in your head again. It is highly improbable that Kento will get seriously injured or killed, but that is always a fear you have given your shared line of work.

“I should be home by tomorrow morning, dear.” Kento says, bringing you back to Earth in his calming smooth voice. He pulls you into his chest as he holds you close for a little while, planting kisses to the top of your head occasionally.

“Just come home to me Nanami Kento.” you say looking up at him with a small smile playing on the corners of your mouth.

“I love you.” He says before letting you go.

You fill the rest of your night trying to not stress over the mission Kento is on, but most of your attempts of trying to relax are futile. The one thing you find does help is propping up with your laptop in Yukies room with a small lamp giving off a soft yellow light and looking up Malaysia hotels and tickets to surprise Kento with when he gets home.

As the hour shifts to around 3 in the morning you feed Yukie one more time before heading to bed. Knowing Kento he will be upset if you screwed up your sleep schedule just for him. You quickly shower and change into a silk pajama set before lying down and falling into a dreamless slumber quickly.

You wake up around 9 to the sound of your doorbell ringing. Kento is still not home, but maybe he is getting ahead on his paperwork so he can spend the rest of his time with you and Yukie today. The house is cold, as you slip a robe on to answer the door. When you get down the bell rings again as you open the door to Ijichi, who is already fully bowed down.

“I’m very sorry to inform you…”

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oddly-casual · 3 months

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Gaap Goemon appreciation post/ Character Analysis

because I need y'all to hype him up as much as I do.

I was a fan of the Mairimashita Iruma Kun anime many moons ago, and just recently I got back into it. Finished the manga. Walked away loving the entire Misfit class. Most of all, I see a criminal lack of Gaap content. So, here's why I love Gaap and why I think you should too.

By all accounts, there isnt a whole lot of focus or information about Gaap that goes beyond the depth of a kiddy pool. (It's like that for most of the misfits tbh...) Still, Gaap gets more focus than most.

Kindness and care:

The thing about Gaap that stands out the most, is how much of a natural caretaker this kid is.

He greets everyone he meets with respect. Often using the honorific "Dono" Which google tells me translates to "Lord" or "Master". Almost every time he greets somebody he always has an offer of Hell tea and onigiri. He always makes sure to take care of his guests and his friends. This kid has no shortage of manners. So polite.

In the Harvest Festival arc, Gaap is the one who goes out to save the other students even when Agares has valid points about why rescuing a bunch of demons they dont know wouldn't benefit them in any way. In the festival, where the entire point is to be a cut above the rest, what did Gaap do?

We see little examples of Gaap's kindness. How he defends his friends and is usually on the front lines whenever someone's well-being is cause for concern.

This boy is the mom friend who always had a painkiller and a stack of bandaids on hand. He's such a mom friend that he canonically fights with Jazz when it comes to taking care of their classmates. (They both have a caretaker complex.)

It's also the way Gaap responds to stress! In the Heartbreaker arc, Gaap is paired up with two first-years who won't stop fighting. This obviously stresses the boy out, because he had high expectations of getting along with his first years, but it didn't turn out that way.

The first thing Gaap does is try to offer them food, something we see Gap do to Agares when he snaps at him. When the offer of food doesnt work, he instead tries to assure the first years that everything will be fine. Even if Gaap isn't confident, his first instinct is to try to appeal to and take care of people. Even if that's not what they want.

It’s interesting, because Gaap doesn’t physically get in between them, like you would expect him to do. He avoids conflict when it gets physical, despite being such a capable fighter. (Though when it comes to saving others, he has no problem acting.)

Friends and Habits:

We get to know Gaap the most when he's around other people. Obviously, because he's a secondary character. I think another aspect of this is because Gaap is a social creature, he thrives around people. We rarely see Gaap standing alone and this makes sense because his goal is to have 100 allies.

In the demon world, we know that demons usually dont care about saving or helping others if it doesnt help them. Nor do they have the drive to see their efforts to the end, because they get bored rather quickly. Gaap breaks out of this status quo, along with the rest of the Misfits, by stubbornly pushing towards his goal even when the fruits of his labor dont bloom right away.

The biggest showcase of this drive is the person Gaap takes care of the most, that we know of.

Chapter 111 shows us that Gaap came to Agares' house every day. check it, every day. Gaap would go out of his way with breakfast and pick Agares up so he could make it to class.

Agares clearly doesnt want to go, but Gaap takes him anyway, refusing to leave him behind. From what we can guess, he's been doing it before they started training together. Which could mean Gaap didn't know this kid, but saw he wasn't going to class and went to go take care of him. (Classic extrovert adopting their introvert friend).

We see how that kindness affects Agares as a result. Agares feels guilty when he snaps at Gaap and goes out of his way to visit Gaap when he doesn't show up for class. (This could also mean Agares went to class on his own, without Gaap having to force him.)

Agares was also willing to help the people Gaap saved. Even when telling Gaap not to go out and save those people, Agares still houses them, keeps them safe, and even plans an escape route for the other students when things look bad. It's a lot of hassle for a character who hates being bothered. Gaap's kindness is contagious, even if it's not obvious at first glance.

Oh, Maybe He's Kinda Fucked Up?

No one escapes childhood unscathed.

Gaap is a caretaker, he does it happily. Even so, when you put yourself in the position to take care of others, there are parts of yourself that fall into neglect that you dont realize.

After the Heartbreaker arc (Chapter 272), Gaap is noticeably absent. We find out later, what happens when you fuck with the nice guy too much.

Maybe it was his crushed expectations, the stress of failing and losing, or maybe Gaap was just tired of being nice but he goes apeshit. Accidentally slipping into his Wicked cycle and nearly driving two students mad with his fucked up face.

We learn that showing your true face is a big no-no in the Gaap household. It's literally written on the walls, and Gaap feels immense shame and embarrassment that he broke a family rule.

He hides his face in his hands, and puts a bag over his face when Agares comes over. He's afraid of hurting someone again, even though the stress of those events have passed.

We dont know his parents' reaction, (because aint no way they dont know) Whether Gaap was disciplined by his parents or not, Gaap put this huge weight on his shoulders. Not blaming the stress of the situation, but blaming himself for losing control.

Gaap specifically said, “I panicked”. Which could mean that with all the stressors, he snapped and just lashed out. Gaap didn't willingly enter his wicked phase, I think he just gave in to his instincts. His bloodline originally started by warding off predators with their maddening appearance. What is panic if not your brain responding as if your body is in danger?

Despite Gaap reasonably getting upset, he still feels terrible for the trouble he caused and the students he hurt. The first thing he did after waking up was to ask if he could apologize to the first years for mentally scarring them.

Gaap’s ambition is to make 100 allies. It's pretty sweet. When a teenager says it(Gaap looks 17 yrs old), It just sounds like he wants to have friends. Pair this up with the fact that Gaap rarely asks for anything in return, and suddenly his wanting a ton of friends makes sense for someone who looks his age. Gaap takes care of people because he wants them to like him. (Even if he can drive them away with how much he cares.)

I have no idea where this desire comes from. If it's something his family drills into him, to be sociable and network, or if it's just a personal goal because of his ugly ahh face.

Regardless, this moment makes me want to lie down on the road while it rains:

Despite how much his ambition means to him, he is willing to isolate himself as long as it means no one else gets hurt. This speaks to his good intentions. It isn't just about the popularity or all the favors he could have from knowing so many demons. It's about forming genuine relationships with other demons and providing them a soft place to land and build community.

Look at my son, he tries so hard.

My final point:

Look at how cool he is. This is Chapter 76, my boy came out the gate swinging with powerful bloodline magic. He's got the position, he's got technique, he's got flare. What more could you ask for?

Gaap started out as rank 2, and since then has had no problem leveling himself up. Gaap always stays on his feet (Hence his nickname Busy Body), not letting himself fall behind his classmates. He aced his training and had since learned to use Wind as a companion and not as a tool. He even developed a full-range attack where he can pick which targets get hit by his swing and which dont. He is leveling up in the world. Dont hurt em now Gaap.

Conclusion:

I'm the equivalent of those parents who show off pictures of their kids from their wallet.

Gaap as a character, in the story he's in, isn't anything really new or groundbreaking. Even still, in a story like Mairimashita Iruma-Kun, the Misfit class are demons that are different. We get to learn why they're different, and how they learn to overcome these challenges despite how they threaten to hold them back.

Gaap is a good kid that you watch succeed from the background. We see him struggle and fall apart, but he never stops caring about others in that process. He's that good-natured kid in your life that you hope succeeds because in a cruel world, they make the decision to be kind.

If anyone made it this far, slay. Even if you never noticed Gaap before, I hope you have a new appreciation for his character. Nishi took time and love to write him out, I think that deserves attention too.

#character essay #character appreciation #m!ik #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #gaap goemon #agares picero #manga panels #To the three Gaap fans out there I hope i did our boy justice #He's just such a sweet kid #Can you tell how the manga affected me? Is it obvious?#Kinda tempted to do posts like this for other characters because this was fun to write! And I also like reading about characters I like.#We all love an underdog story and some of us were the kid that felt out of place growing up and for me the Misfit class is like a comfort #Like the best case scenario yknow?

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matan4il · 7 months

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Daily update post:

The Wall Street Journal is reporting that a message from Yahya Sinwar (the Hamas leader inside Gaza) was passed to Hamas leaders who live outside of it, and the essence of that is not to worry, because Sinwar believes they have Israel exactly where they want it. In other words, when Hamas is estimated by Israel to have at least 12,000 of its terrorists killed, and despite the fact that they could stop the death of Gazans by releasing the Israeli hostages and surrendering, Sinwar doesn't see any issues with where the war is at. I think the most important part is this: "According to the report, Sinwar also told the Hamas officials that the terror group is prepared for Israel’s expected operation in Rafah, the Gaza Strip’s southernmost city, and is relying on the high civilian death toll reported by the Hamas-run health ministry to cause enough global outcry that Israel is forced to withdraw" (my emphasis). At what point do people realize that they are serving the interests of Hamas' mass murderers, kidnappers and rapists?

A few days ago, I wrote about the attempt to allow aid trucks into northern Gaza directly from Israel, instead of bringing it to the south, and waiting for Gaza-based elements to deliver it to the north. This means an escort of Israeli soldiers is accompanying the trucks. This is the route the aid trucks cross:

Today, these aid trucks were stormed by a huge crowd, and according to the IDF, many people died from pushing and trampling (at the link you can see aerial video footage of the stampede), not an unheard of phenomenon when a huge herd of people all rush in at the same time. On top of that, some Gazans were also advancing at the soldiers securing the aid trucks. The soldiers felt undr threat, and they opened fire at those charging at them, but according to their estimate, this accounts for only 10 of the dead. Still, you can count on the anti-Israel crowd to adopt a narrative that, immediately and without investigation, calls this a massacre and blames every single death on Israel, not on Hamas, which started the war that made even aid supply into a dangerous and complicated situation.

Here's a reminder that even in the middle of the war, when no one is paying attention to it, Israel continues to demolish illegal homes built by Jews. But you're never gonna hear about it, not even during more normal times, because it doesn't fit the anti-Israel narrative, so anti-Israel sources will only ever tell you about it, when Israeli demolishes illegal homes built by Arabs.

As threats to British Members of Parliament (MPs) are rising due to threats from the anti-Israel crowd, the UK has allocated bodyguards to some of them, along with 31 million pounds designated for the security of British democracy. If some of the most powerful people in Britain are that scared, what do you think Jews there are going through? Indeed, today we heard that 72 million pounds are meant to help secure Jewish centers and institutions in the UK. The problem is that until the root of the problem will be tackled, this is just taking care of the symptoms, instead of curing the disease.

Israeli security forces have stopped two Palestinian cousins, one 17 years old and the other 29 years old, from carrying out an independent terrorist attack. I refer to such attacks as independent in order to point out that they're not a part of some greater plot, unlike every single terrorist attack on Oct 7, which were all interconnected, and rocket attacks since, which are launched as a part of the war that Hamas started waging against Israel. However, some of these attacks ARE connected to Hamas. Apparently, these two cousins contacted Hamas in Gaza to get help in committing their intended crime.

This is 59 years old Michel Nissenbaum.

He made alyiah on his own from Brazil when he was 13 years old. Friends say that coming to Israel saved him. He worked in hi-tech, as well as a tour guide, and volunteered with Bedouin kids. Here he is with one such group:

On Oct 7, Michel heard that the Re'im IDF base was under attack from Hamas terrorists. Knowing that his granddaughter was there, visiting her dad, Michel decided to go there and get her out. While he was making his way to the base, he stopped responding to messages. His granddaughter was rescued from the place hours later, but Michel himself had disappeared. He's believed to be kidnapped in Gaza, but his family is scared, because he wasn't spotted in any of the pics or vids released by Hamas.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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the-raven-lady · 1 month

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Learning that one of the effects of microdoses of Astartes blood is that it prolongs a regular human’s life is very interesting. It makes me think about Astartes specifically giving a human some of his blood so that they’ll live longer.

An Astartes, an Apothecarion specifically because they can better monitor the effects of their blood and administer it to a regular human, giving small doses of blood to their unaware human companion. It can range from some blood slipped into their everyday coffee or administered by needle with the excuse of it being a booster shot, all of it done in the pursuit of granting you a longer life. He has a particular fondness for you so why shouldn’t you live longer, there is a whole bunch of worthless nobles exceeding their natural lifespan with rejuvenate treatment, so why not his favourite human? Your time together shouldn’t be limited by your frail biology, not when there are means to work around that inconvenient reality. He wants your company, he wants you by his side, he want to see your smile and not have to contemplate just how much longer he‘ll be able to see such a sight. Sure, giving you his blood causes you to become quite ill, but it’ll pass with time, he’s just guaranteeing that you and him will have all the more time to be with one another.

I saved this because I wanted to write for it, and I think I went a little crazy because this was just supposed to be a short drabble.

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: White Scar Apothecary x serf!Reader [gn]

Warnings: Pregnancy mention and eating, nothing much really

Word Count: 1085

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual

Working as an Apothecarion’s human hand came with many benefits: a comfortable bed, high-quality food, and constant companionship amongst them. It was a stark difference from your time as a serf in the Imperial Palace. The Astartes that came and went rarely paid you any heed then, but now they were downright respectful of your place. Akoghlanlar's ‘assistant’.

You’ve learned that the White Scars had a civility to their barbarism that legions like the Space Wolves lacked. Their savagery in battle didn’t translate over into downtime. They knew when to be ferocious, and ferocious they could certainly be— razing the battlefield like incarnates of lightning itself— but outside of the hunt they were shockingly tranquil. Importance was placed upon calm discipline.

The Akoghlanlar had found you during one of the Great Khan’s visits to Terra, shuttling resources to and from the Swordstorm. You had entered his domain, and each time you returned with more supplies, you felt his eyes on you. Always watching, ever observant.

The ‘adoption’ (if you could call it that) into the White Scars had come as a surprise, and you’re still not even sure if it had actually happened in an official capacity, or if the son of the Khan had simply decided right then and there that you were his. The Apothecary, who you would come to know as Sarei, simply handed you a cloth bag containing a uniform too large for you. Confused, you were notified that you would be staying aboard the ship. The event still baffles you to this day.

Compared to Terra, working for the Fifth was far more eventful. The tribal nature of the White Scars made them wary of your presence on the ship as you traveled around, but for the most part, everyone respected your place beside the Akoghlanlar. Sensing your apprehension, Sarei made a point to deliver your meals to you himself. The act was out of the ordinary, but you weren’t the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Over time, you morphed from what felt like a pet into someone you could actually call useful. You were far too small to help Sarei in most of his endeavors, especially repairing his colossal Dreadnought brothers, so the majority of your tasks revolved around cleaning, maintaining stock, and accounting for resources used. It was only when Sarei was asked by one of his brothers to look over his personal serf that you had truly found your niche.

It was outside of Sarei’s duties as Akoghlanlar to aid baselines, but you had recognized the symptoms of a pregnancy immediately. Nausea, breast tenderness, cravings, fatigue, and most damning, lack of menstruation. The sons of the Khan had been surprised when you spoke it aloud. The poor serf was not.

You had wisely chosen not to ask any questions.

Since, you’ve become the unofficial go-to for the marines aboard the ship when their personal serfs had any troubles. Sarei sourced books on baselines from other medicare, and you started the thirty year journey that landed you where you are.

“I feel like I’ve been seeing you here forever,” an older serf mentioned one day. You had been patching up her arm after she received a sprain from overuse, warning her to let the astartes do the heavy lifting.

“I feel like I’ve been here forever,” you comment, massaging the swollen forearm of your client, “I’ll be turning fifty soon.”

She gave you a smile, but there was something about it that irked you. “You look really good for fifty.”

You would have accepted the compliment for what it was, if not for the tense furrow in her brow or flicker of doubt on her face. You play it off with a practiced shrug. After placing her arm into a sling, you sit back and let your patient go, politely waving her off.

Her words didn’t sit right with you, putting a voice to something you had long been wondering yourself, and for days you mulled them over. You caught yourself staring at your reflection from time to time. At most you would place yourself as mid-thirties, but even that had felt like a stretch. Other serfs your age had been slowing down, joints aching and skin less elastic. They began to struggle with their day to day tasks.

But you remained spritely.

Today feels no different, standing before a vanity wash station. You run a finger down the skin of your cheek, feeling the texture of the pores and light dusting of hair. The face in the mirror is nearly unblemished by time. Fifty years, and yet you’ve barely even begun to develop crow’s feet. You shake your head. You really shouldn’t be so concerned with your seemingly superb genetics; you should be grateful you have them in the first place.

Sarei returns to the bay with your lunch, frowning when he sees you staring at yourself again. “Despite your efforts, you will never catch it blinking,” he rumbles, placing the tray of food down onto your human-sized table.

You huff a laugh and turn to look at him. Thirty years haven’t changed the Akoghlanlar at all; astartes aged gracefully. The lightning bolt scar on his face is the same deep shade of bronze, brown eyes as sharp as ever. The same wrinkles that had been there since the day he found you are present, never deepening. The only change you can find in him is that his tamed beard has grown longer.

A growl interrupts your thoughts, and you place a hand over your stomach, walking over to the table to sit and eat. The smell of the meat called to you. Sarei watches thoughtfully, wrapping his palm in gauze.

“Did something happen on your way over?” you inquire, gesturing to his hand as you take the first bite.

Sarei shakes his head. “An old wound that refuses to remain closed.”

You nod and focus your attention on your meal, making sure to get as much gravy as you possibly can on each bite of the tender roast. It helped to mask the iron tang of the gamey meat.

The Akoghlanlar smiles at you fondly, then turns away to look over the accounts of the legion’s gene stock. He cleans off his sidearm as he does so, removing the traces of his blood from the blade. It pleased him to see his assistant looking so well.

He would tell you why some day, but for now he was simply glad you wouldn’t perish like the last.

#me? write something short without adding too much background? unrealistic.#white scars #white scar x reader #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #horus heresy #warhammer 40k x reader #wh 40k #raven lady writings #raven lady answers

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 9 months

Text

It’s one in the morning let’s talk Six of Crows analysis - it feels like it’s been ages since I did any analysis, which is like the entire point of this account so sorry about that but here we go: We should talk more about Adem Bajan you guys okay because first of all he effectively comes to represent the vast majority of everyday people in a clear juxtaposition to both Inej and Van Eck, but he also is in a position of far less choice than I think we give him credit for.

As a reminder, Bajan is a young Suli boy (presumably somewhere around 19 but we have no confirmation of that) working in the Van Eck household teaching Alys music. He is highly implied to be having or to have interest in having as affair with Alys, and was Van Eck’s chosen jailer for Inej at the beginning of Crooked Kingdom. Van Eck claims he made this choice because he thought “a Suli boy would be most conspicuous” when he was attempting to lure Kaz into a trap to save Inej, but it was also an inarguably smart decision in that, as Inej even comments herself, Bajan was easy to talk to, made her feel nostalgic, homesick, and alone, and very nearly succeeded in drawing information out of her without having to restore to torture. If anything, resorting to torture was Van Eck’s major mistake at this point but that’s really a conversation for another time. Bajan is a really interesting character because he doesn’t want to hurt Inej and specifically encourages her to tell him things so Van Eck won’t escalate things further, but when Van Eck does escalate things Bajan is unable - or possibly unwilling - to stop him. For this Inej calls him a monster, and when he claims he did nothing replies “no, you’re the man who stands idly by congratulating himself whilst the monster eats its fill”. She draws a Suli phrase on him that effectively means he’ll be rejected by the community forever and his spirit/soul won’t be accepted, and she describes it as the worst fate or something along those lines sorry I can’t remember exactly. But what’s the most interesting thing is that even though he claims not to believe in any of it Bajan gets noticeably upset by this and says “that’s not fair”. Inej is surprised that he’s this soft, and there’s a very clear juxtaposition between the lives they have lived.

BUT - let’s look at this from Bajan’s perspective. And remember - this is important - Bajan is not described as an employee of Van Eck’s, but an indenture. An indenture. So Bajan is a young boy indentured in a foreign country to a man as high up in the country’s government as you can get and who has clearly been illustrated to the reader as a terrible person on several different levels that I won’t dissect in too much detail right now. He appears to have acclimatised himself to Kerch surroundings and acts with elevation above his status, because that’s what he has to do to survive in the upper echelon of a deeply classist society that actively diminishes and disapproves of his culture. (<<if anyone wants references for that let me know and also I’ve written about it quite a bit before so that’s kicking around on my page somewhere) He refuses to speak to Inej in Suli because “it makes me maudlin” and my question to you is: is he rejecting the language to further attempt to fit in and as a product of internalised prejudice, or because it’s so incredibly painful to be half-connected to a culture not only that he has forced himself to reject but also that he feels he can never safely return to? Probably both. He tells Inej he doesn’t believe in Suli superstition, religion, or culture, and yet is deeply upset when she uses it against him. Is this because he actually does believe, or wants to believe, in the Saints and the Suli interpretation of them but has rejected them for survival and the supposed betterment of himself? Possibly.

Bajan strikes me as very similar to Jesper in the way he presents himself as free, flirty, and casual, but had a considerable weight to almost everything he says and considerable pain hidden closer to the surface than he may have realised. I think there are parallels between him and Inej if we want to see them, but also a very stark difference in the way Kerch and Ketterdam have treated them. Bajan may not be privileged but even as an indenture he has - or at least as far as we know has had - a far safer and kinder experience than Inej has. This could be related to gender since the hyper-sexualisation of Suli culture is mostly centred on women - “the Menagerie always stocked a Suli girl” (I’ve intensely analysis this quote before so I won’t now but ugh there’s so much to say) - but we do know there are young boys captive at the pleasure houses as well although less commonly and it’s also possible that this difference is linked to Bajan’s decision to turn his back on Suli culture in order to appeal more to Kerch society whilst Inej continually embraced her culture and arguably became more religious in response to her experiences.

This is complicated because I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Bajan. I understand and support Inej’s perspective and everything she saw whilst in a far more dangerous position that he was, but is it possible that this was a lonely boy who saw someone he thought was like him and tried to communicate with her the only way he thought was safe? You are completely isolated in a foreign culture and hate yourself for having suppressed your own upbringing in order to survive, but now you meet someone else who yes, is in more danger than you, but who you might be able to help so that she can help you in return. You aren’t safe to speak freely and so you subtly tell her that you are an indenture, hoping she acknowledges that none of this is of your free will and because you know that she was indentured too (and remember from a societal pov there is very little understanding of what indentured girls at the pleasure houses actually go through and although that doesn’t excuse ignoring Inej’s trauma it may explain why he doesn’t fully acknowledge that their positions aren’t equal), you tell her that speaking your own shared language makes you feel maudlin, hoping she realises that you desperately miss your homeland and using your language makes you feel even further from your family than you already are because you can’t share it with them. She doesn’t seem to be taking any of it in, your employer has every intention of hurting her and you don’t know what else to do, so you make a last plea: you ask her about home. You think you’ve already made it clear that speaking about home is painful, so you ask her about it to invite that pain, to share it, so you both understand. But it fails, because she only sees your employer puppeteering you. You openly beg her to tell him the truth so that he won’t hurt her but she refuses to comply, and after all of your efforts and your desperate attempts to connect and beg her to help you both go home, her response is to turn your home against you and banish you from it for eternity. So when you see her the next morning, how could you possibly look her in the eye?

Bajan did not make all of the right choices in his brief time on the page. He didn’t. But maybe he was trying really hard, and he had no other options left.

Anyway I’m not saying this is definitive one way or the other it’s just an interpretation but I find him a very interesting and very sad character and I although I support all of Inej’s actions in these scenes from her point of view I do find myself wondering how she appeared to Bajan and how he felt in the aftermath.

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awarmcupofmilk · 1 year

Text

Gojo x reader "Broken Mirror"

afab!reader

summary: you knew gojo was the one. gojo wasn't so sure.

content warnings: breakup/sad, angst, deviations from gojo’s past arc

word count: 1,226

note: hi lovelies, I'm back! I'm thinking of turning this into a series, thoughts?

please don’t repost, edit, translate, use, or copy my works on any platforms (if you’d really like to please reach out – reblogs are welcome)

You’d known for a while Satoru was the one.

When he’d thoroughly humiliated the elders through cheeky comebacks and downright threats because Gakuganji made a remark about your way of dress off-duty.

When he called off classes for the day to host a hot dog eating contest, just because you were having a hard time with your sister getting engaged---fresh out of high school.

When he literally saved your life on that mission.

But what sealed the deal was this adorably clueless look on his face, set so vividly apart from his usual smirks and sneers, when he got daifuku on his cheek.

You were in love. And in it bad.

At first, you knew you were alone in your convictions. Satoru hadn’t ever prioritized love and you didn’t think you’d convince him otherwise. You told yourself it was fine, that you’d date for a few months, maybe a year and then move on for the better.

But you don’t move on from the strongest.

You couldn’t taste anything else once you’d had him. Nothing else held appeal.

You kept telling yourself it was fine. You were still young, you still had time to date without a future. But the smell of his aftershave, the way his hair curled behind his ear, his distaste for alcohol. It all drew you in, too deeply, and you wanted it too badly.

Satoru would stiffen when you brought up the future.

He was happy to make plans for Friday date night, but anything about revisiting the clan or moving in or god forbid, marriage had him giving non-answers and changing the subject at the first opportunity.

It was a stabbing pain, seeing the look on his face, and a few times after a particularly sobering conversation you’d almost considered ending it. But he was so sweet. By all other accounts he was a wonderful boyfriend. Chivalrous---opening the door for you, insisting on paying the bill, unfolding the napkin at restaurants to cover your lap. He genuinely listened. And yes, he had a slight habit of being a little too friendly with no doubt interested women, but he’d always own up and do better when you called him out. And you just clicked. So effortlessly, so seamlessly. So, you told yourself it was fine.

You had your whole life ahead of you at twenty-three. And you knew, any third party would tell you that you were being unreasonable. But you loved him. You were sure about him. Surer than you were about most things. Maybe anything. You used to be so cynical about marriage. You didn’t buy anything about soulmates or true love or the one. But Satoru was it for you. You just knew.

But the more you wanted him, the more anxious you were to hold on, to not lose him. You found yourself asking, “Are you going to break up with me?” As a joke from the outside but in truth a deep fear, seeking opposition or confirmation, you didn’t know.

And Satoru would always respond easily, with that trademark suaveness, “Not planning on it.”

You asked more and more often, and whether or not Satoru noticed, more and more anxiously.

And each “I don’t see that happening,” each “No” followed by a soft kiss sold it to you more. You stopped telling yourself it was fine. You’d be together forever. You were sure of it.

Things weren’t perfect. You two had your rough patches and fair share of fights. But you wanted each other enough to make it through anything. If the you from a few years ago could hear yourself, this madness probably would have been put to an end. But you loved him. You loved him in that cliché, film way that looks manufactured in hindsight. But it felt so raw, so pure, so real. You’d be together forever.

Soon, despite yourself, you began hinting. Rings. Nice houses. And even, though you were now appalled at the memory, babies. Not to be had then, of course, just for the far-off future. You could be patient if commitment was promised.

And for whatever reason, Satoru played along. He started engaging in talks about the future, even though he used to say he didn’t want to make these promises, didn’t want to plan so far. You had reminded yourself of what he used to say, that look on his face when you brought up plans. But for some reason hidden to him and you, he bought into it too. He started fantasizing with you. Of course, to you it didn’t feel like fantasizing. But he seemed to want it, almost as badly. You thought his face lit up picturing your lives together in the next few years. You thought he smiled a little wider, laughed a little louder.

He wants this too. You told yourself. We’ll be together forever. You said.

You told this to yourself like a mantra, and soon it became indisputable truth.

✧

“Hey,” you started, leaning on Satoru’s shoulder. You snuggled closer to him on the couch and pulled the blanket over your shoulder. “Does it ever bother you that I ask about the future?” You said.

Satoru stiffened, and your heart dropped.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You know, like do you not like talking about plans long-term?”

You were fishing for an easy answer, some artificial reassurance, a “No, I like it fine.”

But he paused. You couldn’t breathe.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to make promises.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. It sounded like you had let out a breath. A small cough.

“I mean, it’s kind of fun to fantasize,” he said.

You hadn’t realized how much the word “fantasize” bothered you. How seriously you took your “plans”.

“But I mean, I can’t promise what will happen in a few years,” Gojo continued.

You felt dizzy. “You don’t see us together in a few years?” You asked. It sounded like a whimper and you hated yourself for it.

“I just mean I don’t know what my life looks like in a few years.”

“Oh,” you said again.

There was silence. You’d stopped resting on his shoulder and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You pulled the blanket off and fidgeted, eyes glued to your lap.

“…where do you see this going?” You finally asked. Quietly.

He let out a breath. “Look, I’m going to be honest, I’m twenty-four, I can’t make any commitments right now.”

“Oh.”

You felt oddly calm. “Um, thanks for being honest with me,” (finally, you thought).

“Sure,” Gojo said.

“So we have an expiration date, huh?” You asked.

Gojo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this is going to end at some point.”

“I mean, I’m not making a decision right now about the future,” Gojo said, you thought he shrugged. “I still want to be with you now,”

But he didn’t understand. That was the point. You’d decided on forever without a second thought, and he just let you. But sooner or later, when he decided it was time to experience life without you, he’d leave you behind. You didn’t want now if you couldn’t have the future.

You didn’t meet his eye. “Gojo, I think we should end things.”

It’s funny how the things you love the most can shatter in an instant.

✧ Masterlist ✧

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redvexillum · 2 months

Text

A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.”

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing.

All for research, of course.

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–”

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.”

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean?

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary.

The definition of Mid was…

Below average.

Not good.

Mediocre.

Boring.

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being…

Being….

Boring.

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.

She was going to get so cancelled.

That he would make sure of.

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.

You should…go out and fuck someone.

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.

Everything about your life was the same.

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.

Retail therapy.

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from [email protected]

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.

Subject: (no subject) Dear Bitch, Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it. Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are. And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID. Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning. Fuck you. P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message?

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both.

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠

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yeoja-dream · 8 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort

Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader

Content Warning: Woman in danger, roofie mention

Word Count: 3,500

It was a miserable fucking night. Granted it had also been a miserable fucking day, The rain had come down in sheets all throughout the day and well into the night, bringing the temperature down considerably. It was certainly summer, but as your thigh-high boot clicked against the wet sidewalk, you swore you could see your breath.

I just had to fucking go out. You grumbled internally, shivering in your mini skirt and leather coat. It should have been plenty warm enough for a summer night, but even the weather seemed to be flipping you off today. Let’s just get black-out drunk, hook up with a stranger, and forget today ever happened. You hyped yourself up while rounding the corner to your favorite nightclub.

The line was sparse, on account of the rain you supposed. Not that you ever really had to wait in line for this place anyways, you knew all the bouncers and if any gave you a hard time, you’d flash a little cleavage and be on your way.

Despite the minimal line outside, indoors was as lively as any other Saturday night. The DJ tonight was someone local, you overheard, not bad you mused, moving through the crowd to an empty bar seat. Mostly trap beats, but his remixes were decent and the dance floor reflected his musical proficiency.

“Y/N” The bartender, a salt and pepper man in his 40s regarded you warmly. “What will it be tonight?”

“David.” You said back. “I thought you had a date tonight? I was expecting to see Vanessa. Sure the usual.” You slid your card forward, starting your tab.

“You drink so many cosmos we are going to have to start calling you Nebula, you know,” David said, picking up the ingredients to your drink. “Vanessa and I switched. Date bailed. She must have known you were coming in and got jealous,” He added with a wink.

“You flatter me.” You replied. “Nebula is too metal of a knick name for such a girly drink.”

“Eh,” David replied, sliding your glass toward you. “I’ve seen you, you could out-drink any man in this place. Makes me feel bad for your wallet.”

“You and I both.” You said, sipping on the pink liquid. “It’s good. Strong. Make yourself something, it’s on me.”

“And that’s why you are my favorite customer, cheers,” David replied, before sliding off to the other end of the bar, busily helping other patrons.

The bar seats here spun, a trait you always appreciated for easy people-watching. Picking up your drink and swiveling your seat around, you surveyed the crowd like you did most weekends. Mostly, it was boring. You watched them have fun, be messy, get into arguments, meet new friends, new lovers, it was fun, like watching a TV show of what your life could have looked like if things had been different. Some nights you’d spot a creep, someone slipping drugs into drinks or stalking ex-partners and you’d alert the bouncers to kick them out. Some nights you’d chat with someone silver-tongued and deep-pocketed to keep you interested, some nights that person would talk you into bed.

It was cyclical if you had to really psychoanalyze yourself. The theme: unfulfillment, dissatisfaction, and unhappiness. It was easy, much easier anyway, to find comfort in these fleeting, temporary flings, to find purpose in playing superhero and saving a drunk woman from a creep, to find community in the transactional relationships held with people like David. But maybe you were thinking too much about things again, what the hell did you know? You were there, in that nightclub, just like everyone else.

You swiveled around again, signaling to David you were ready for your next cosmo. He had it ready just as soon as you could raise your hand.

“Looks like you got something on your mind tonight. I’ll keep ‘em coming,” David said handing you your next drink.

“Thanks.” You said, taking it from him. “Don’t forget to make something for yourself!” You called after him.

“I love drinking on your dime, don’t worry about me~” He replied with a hand wave.

Before you can turn back to your self-centered musings, a zip of light darted through your periphery. Magic? It had been a minute since you had seen someone else use it, but surely you had to be mistaken right? Why would a place like this have magic?

You snapped and turned to the side, scanning the patrons carefully, but it only took a few seconds to realize who it was who had been casting. A man stood in the corner, tall with dark, masculine features, his shoulders were broad, his chest and torso the perfect V. He wore a plain, dark, fitted t-shirt that showed off large, corded arms. He was the picture of masculinity, attractive by anyone’s standards, and as you regarded him now, he was entirely silhouetted in magic. The silver, translucent aura was unmistakable. Glamour magic.

He had to be an incubus right? The only other creatures capable of glamour magic like that are the tirions, but those were exceptionally rare. You could relate to that. As you pondered the possibilities, you noticed a small, curly-haired blonde woman, undoubtedly human by the way she seemed in awe of this male. You needed to get closer, you decided slipping off your seat and pushing through the bodies until you were in earshot.

“So, why don’t you finish your drink and we can enjoy a few more at my place?” The male voice spoke.

“Well, I - I - I uh, f-f-friend I, uh…” The female voice spoke, a mix of slurred speech and nervous babbling.

Another wave of magic pulsed from him.

“I think we should get out of here, beautiful.” He insisted again.

“I think… that is… okay.” The female replied voice halted, disconnected. Stiffly and robotically you watched her put her drink on the bar top, then equally as robotically begin turn around and begin to exit.

Incubus or tirion, you would be damned if you would let them feed here. You too put your drink down on the bar top and made your way to the exiting couple.

“Hey! Girl we were looking everywhere for you!” You walked right up to the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. You were admittedly a bit rusty, but your connection to magic was as inherent as the ability to breathe. You called forth your magic from deep in the ground, willing it to run through your body. You could see the magical charm this male held on this woman, and while willing your magic into a sword, you severed the charm.

The woman blinked up at you, dazed and confused. “The rest of us are dancing over here!” You now link arms with the woman, her considerably smaller frame putting into perspective how powerless this woman was to this male. As you begin to walk away with her, the male voice calls out from behind you.

“Hey.” The voice is stern, flat, and deep. More noticeable to you, however, is the overwhelming rush of glamor magic that washes over you. You will your magic up, shielding the smaller woman from its power.

“Hey sorry!” You turn around. “We came out as a girl's night and we wanna keep it that way! No hard feelings!” With that, you pull the woman with you and away, towards the exit.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart. Are those your friends over there?” You ask the woman. She nods in response.

“Come on, let's say goodbye and then I’m going to walk you to a cab.” You lead the woman to her friends, who all in a drunken stupor thank you for taking care of their friend, and forget to ask why it is she needs to leave. It is probably better that way anyway.

You lead the woman out the door, up the stairs, and out into the cold rainy night. You held the umbrella for the two of you, walking in complete silence.

“The taxi rank is around the corner, but this time of night and the weather I’ll bet it's empty, so I’m just going to call ahead.” You said to no one in particular. You weren’t sure if she was really listening, but you felt better saying something.

Sure enough, when you rounded the corner, the taxi rank was completely abandoned.

“Figures,” you grumbled, watching the poor, shivering woman stand next to you while you waited, the sound of the rain hammering on your shared umbrella punctuating your silence. Wordlessly, you shed your leather jacket and place it over her shoulders while you wait, willing the magic from the ground to keep you warm. It was totally against the rules, but hey, it had already been a weird night.

“Do you remember your address?” You asked the woman. She nodded in response.

“Do you have enough money to get home?” Another nod.

“Did you drive to the club?” A shake this time.

She didn’t want to talk, obviously, and another extended silence descended upon the two of you.

The woman broke the silence this time.

“What happened to me?” She asked, voice sounding hollow, hurt, and confused.

“You were roofied.” You replied, matter-of-factly. “The man you were talking to was very bad, which is why I’m making sure you get home.”

“I’ve been roofied before. It didn’t go away in one second. I spent the whole night puking. You touched my shoulder and the fog lifted. Isn’t that crazy?” She spouted off, looking up at you for support answers.

You knew what she was looking for, and yet you couldn’t give it to her. “They’re coming up with new drugs all the time. Maybe this one clears your system crazy fast. I am really sorry this happened to you.” You replied.

“Thank you for helping me.” She replied, and as if ordained by a benevolent ruler, the taxi pulled up. You helped her into the car, wished her a good night, and saw her off before turning on a heel and marching back to that nightclub. You had a bone to pick.

-----------------------------------------------

Where the bumping music of the club before gave the area a cool, hip-hop vibe, now contributed to your fuge state fueled by rage. The male, miraculously, was stood in the same spot, tied up in conversation with another man. An accomplice perhaps, you thought. You’d figure it out as soon as you rocked this dude's shit.

Pushing passed the crowd and shoving the man he was locked in conversation with aside, in a flash you willed your magic up to protect your fist and you let loose the meanest right hook you could muster, for that woman and all the other women you were sure this scum had victimized.

Your fist collided solidly with his jaw, knocking him over and staggering him. You hit him hard enough that the bystanders around you audibly reacted. The male straightened back out, rubbing his jaw in pain. Looking down at you in what could only be described as bewilderment.

“I would say there is a special place in hell for people like you, but you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?” You spit at the male.

“So what if I do?” The male replied, voice rich and baritone. “What’s it to you?”

“There are clubs for people like you.” You replied venemously.

“And you…?” He replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“I am not here looking for prey.” You said, looked at him with a disgusting look. “Just because you can’t hack it in the supernatural clubs doesn’t mean you can just come out to the human clubs looking for easy pickings.”

“Do you condemn the wolf for breaking into the lamb pen? Or do you just understand that the wolf, too, needs to eat?”

“Ask a sheep farmer what he does to wolves in the lamb pen.”

“Is that what you are to them? The farmer? Watching over the little sheep? Or perhaps you are just a little puppy, barking at the big bad predator” He leaned in closer. “There will come a day when your pathetic little yaps won’t be enough to chase away the big bad guy, what will you do then, little puppy?”

“Get. Out.” You said through gritted teeth. “Or so help me I will put you back where you came from.” Rage, pure rage coursed through you, mixed with magic, you felt it zapping and prickling at your skin, your hair standing on edge as if the lighting was about to strike.

“Now now, no need to get so wound up.” He started pushing past you, before stopping to continue. “I was going to hurt you, for taking my dinner. But now, now I hope to meet you again very soon, little puppy.” He finished, walking out the front door, a swagger in his footsteps that made you want to blast him from behind with every bit of radiant damage you could physically muster.

“Hey.” A different male voice snapped you to the present. “You’re going to call attention to yourself. Just accept it.”

Another wave of glamor magic washed over you, a different spell though, a calming one you readily identified having used it before. You allow the stranger's magic in, the new stream slipping in, soothing your breathing, calming your heart rate, and slowing the stream of magic through your body, before exiting.

“You were about to make us all do the electric slide.” The man said with a chuckle. “Sorry, dated reference. I am kind of old.”

“Me too.” You commented, still internally reeling from the events of the last hour. “It was funny, thanks for the hand.” You turned to him, finally. The man who was keeping the incubus engaged. You were calm, but you were still warry. You regarded him more carefully now, he too was exceptionally handsome, but in a less brutalistic way than the incubus was. He was also shorter than the incubus and considerably more lithe in his frame. His baggy streetwear and half up half down hairstyle betrayed a surprisingly strong body, you were willing to bet, however. “With that being said, who the hell are you?”

“That is a complicated question with a complicated answer.” He replied. “I am sure you can relate. Shall we?” He gestured to two conveniently empty seats sitting on the corner of the bar.

“You drink cosmos, right?” He said handing you a pink cocktail. You looked at him incredulously.

“On a normal night, I don’t accept drinks that I didn’t watch David make, after all that what makes you think I’m going to accept this?”

“Oh my god, you are so right. You know what I will drink this don’t even worry about it, I’ll flag the bartender and you order whatever you want and I’ll pick it up.” He replied, pulling the drink back to him.

After a few minutes, David walked up to your end of the bar, regarding the two of you silently.

“What will it be, sir?” David asked the man.

“Whatever the lady will have.”

“Whiskey. Top Shelf.”

“Coming right up, ma’am,” David replied, pouring a glass and sliding it to you. With that, he made himself scarce.

“How do you know the incubus?” You asked the man, keeping your tone flat, disinterested in case they were buddies.

“Not at all, to be frank” He replied, sipping on his Cosmo.

“When I walked in after getting that woman home, you seemed to be engaged in lively conversation with that man.” You said, bemused. “What was it that you were discussing?”

“How we were going to hurt you.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“And how was that?” You asked.

“Well, he was angry when you left with that woman, really angry. I had a feeling that you’d come back and I wanted you to get your revenge, so I placated him with stories of how I would help tear you limb from limb and eat your insides in front of this whole club, the usual.”

“Uh-huh.” You replied, skeptically. “And why should I believe that? Maybe the two of you are waiting to jump me as soon as I leave out that door.”

“Nah, you’d kick my ass.” He replied. “Besides, I have this.” He held up a clear, tear-drop-shaped glass pendant on a cord around his neck. Suspended in the glass were a clear liquid and a red liquid, yin and yang. “Because of this, it is impossible for me to lie.”

“Obviously you are going to have to prove it.” You replied, scoffing and sipping your whiskey.

“Easy.” He replied. “The sky is purp-” Before he could finish, red and blue light pulsed from the pendant, and the man doubled over in pain, grabbing his chest. “Pigs can fl-” and again, before the man could finish the sentence, he doubled over in pain clutching his chest.

“You could have programmed it to react that way with certain voice commands.” You replied back, still skeptical.

“Hard to convince, that’s fair enough.” He replied, shrugging. “Tell me to say something, and I will say it, scouts honor.”

“Okay…” You replied, thinking for a moment. “Tell me I’m ugly,” you said with a smirk.

“You’re ug- ak!” The same reaction as before.

“Thank you I know.” You said, flicking the hair off your shoulder. A devilish smile crept across your face as another prompt crossed your mind. “Say this one and I will believe you.”

“Anything.”

“Say I have a tiny penis.”

He looked at you incredulously, but nonetheless began “I have a tiny pe- ah! Enough please believe me this hurts!”

“Good to know~” you chuckled. “Alright George Washington, what are you doing here anyway? What are you?” You asked him.

“I am a vampire. As for what I am doing here, that question is a bit more difficult to answer.”

“Are you looking for prey? Just like that incubus?”

“What? God. No. I don’t need to look for prey thank you very much. I am very much mated.”

“Mated? But you’re hanging out in a human club?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, start the bigger picture then if the smaller picture is hard. What is your name?”

“Jeon Jungkook. A pleasure.” He extended his hand.

“Y/N. It is steadily becoming a pleasure as well.” you shook his hand. “What brings you to this city, Jeon Jungkook?”

“I live here with my mates,” he replied. “Most of us work in the city, myself included. I sing.”

“Oh wow!” you recoiled in surprise. “What do you sing? Do you perform?”

“No, it's a little hard to be a public persona when your face is never changing, ya know? I do backup vocals and I am the voice behind a few recording artists, some big some small.” He shrugged.

“Some big?” You asked.

“I can’t really talk openly about it. I’ll tell you another time.” He added with a wink.

“Fair enough.” You replied, taking another sip of whiskey.

“I was right behind you, by the way.”

“Hm?” You replied.

“Maybe I should back up a little.” He started. “I’m here, in this human club tonight, because I was called to be. By whom or what I do not know, but I knew I needed to come in. I arrived shortly after you did, I think. You were already drinking at the bar, people-watching. I saw the magic too, and I saw what he was attempting to do to that poor woman. You and I stood up simultaneously.”

“You want a congratulations for thinking about stopping a rapist?” You scoffed at him.

“No. No, I am explaining myself poorly. I am trying to say I had your back. I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You said, giving him a half cheers with your glass.

“At first I thought that this is what I was called here for, to save you or to dispatch this creep, then I could fuck off home and be the hero. But then I saw how powerful you were. How readily the magic came to you, how you bent it to your will like you were folding paper. It was only then I came to understand, that I think I was called here to meet you. And I am extremely glad I was.”

You glanced at his chest and then, at the pendant hanging on his chest. The light remained dark, and when you slid your gaze up to meet his, there was an intense sincerity there that made you blush and shy away.

“I am not really sure I understand what it is exactly you are getting at.” You state looking down at the melting cubes in your whiskey.

“I think I might, but I will need you to go with me on this one.” --------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi-ya this one has been cooking in my brain for like 3 years so enjoy plz! I am just going to post parts one and two consecutively because fuck it they're finished and the Ritalin hit and so I WROTE. I'm working on Intertwined, I just had to get it straightened out from this story because of their similar themes but we good, let me cook. I will update the tags as WHAT each member of BTS and Y/N as it is revealed but for now, no spoilers eheheh. Put what you think they're going to be below!

#bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader smut #poly ot7 #ot7xreader #foundfatedforever

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