#even beyond just romantic feelings right. like i can think of a lot of times where i shut myself off from other people

[miserymerci]

Fluffy February Day 11: Quest - The Monkey King and The Monkey

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: Sun Wukong, Nezha, Jade Emperor, MK

(Lots of mentions of MK but actually pops up near the end, Sunburst Duo, Harbinger of Chaos MK, Alternate universe)

Word count: 4971

Summary: (TW: mentions of execution of a child) Takes place after the Samadhi Fire was separated from Red Son. In an alternate universe, Sun Wukong is summoned by the Jade Emperor, who gives him one final task: Wukong is to kill the Harbinger of Chaos before he can lay waste to Heaven— and the rest of the universe. But this has to be a mistake. The Harbinger of Chaos is just a little kid. Wukong’s next decision would be a lot easier if he didn’t want the Harbinger dead, too. (Inspired by The Horse and the Infant animatic)

Wispy indigo reached across the sky; rich, deep, and stunningly royal amongst the full galaxy beyond it. The stars glittered and winked, as if the world’s problems were only a fleeting thing to them. The night slept along. It would have been difficult for it not to, Wukong realized, since the sky in itself seemed to be a lullaby.

He could call it a painting. It had that look after all; like it had been touched up to perfection; like the splattered stars randomly lined up right where they were supposed to be. But Wukong didn’t consider himself an artist. So, then, would it really matter if he thought the night was beautiful or not?

What a strange thing to think. He should be rewarding himself with a good night’s sleep. Instead, here he was mulling over creation. Ridiculous. 

“Wukong, I know I’ve already said this, but thank you,” came a familiar voice.

Wukong snorted to himself and turned to smile at his ex-sworn brother.

“I don’t mind the thanks– this’ll be the only time I get to see this side of you, so I’m enjoying it the best I can– but you were just about ready to go for my throat a few hours ago,” he said.

The Demon Bull King’s sincerity wavered at the tease, but he had always been an honorable opponent. He shook his head to keep the annoyance at bay and titled his broad nose up at the stars.

“This was important to me. Meeting Lady Iron Fan felt like my new beginning– if you’re going to make that face, look at me when you do it. I know you’re a hopeless romantic, simian. Hmph. As I was saying… meeting Lady Iron Fan felt like my new beginning. And now I’m here with it laying in my palms, and I don’t want to hang on too tight or cradle it too carelessly,” said the Demon Bull King. “I want to be tactical with every step I take. The possibility of losing Red Son to the Samadhi Fire… it was… not an ideal thought. I had worried you weren’t taking it as seriously as I was.”

The Mystic Mountain did have a view Wukong could appreciate (when they weren’t in the middle of sealing an inextinguishable fire). But the colorfulness of it all quickly became sorrowfully bland. Wukong frowned at the twisted feeling and eyed the Demon Bull King. He had turned away to somewhere Wukong couldn’t see.

Wukong imagined it would have been where Lady Iron Fan, their son, and the others had spread out their own camps. With the journey too far and the extraction of the Fire too exhausting, it had been a practical decision to stay the night. Even Nezha had stayed; not by any other compelling force other than being a good sport to those who couldn’t simply bounce off to heaven.

The Demon Bull King’s eyes glinted with the surrounding stars. The look on his face was soft, like an old dog born on the streets. 

Wukong remembered distant times where the young Demon Bull King had been eager to crush bones on the battlefield; where he had dreamed of only power and control; when family had been something the Demon Bull King had laughed at. 

He turned away.

“Look at you, being a sap. It’s an… interesting look on you.”

“It’s hardly something I want you getting used to,” the Demon Bull King snapped. “In the morning, we will part ways and carry on with our existences. I have respect for you tonight. But what I do tomorrow and the days after will be separate from your shenanigans.”

Wukong could say a few different things to that. ‘When did things change?’, for one. ‘I can’t understand how you feel’, for another.

“Well said.” he settled on. He picked at a furry knot that had formed on his wrist and then groaned. “It’s not like I’d find any joy being in your inner circle. You’d drive me crazy with your incompetence to boil pasta.”

The Demon Bull King huffed and then grumbled.

“Sorry, what was that?” nudged Wukong.

“It was one time!” 

Wukong’s fur bristled at the tone, but grinned knowingly. This was familiar territory. He was very good at dancing this dance. 

“You boiled it twice as long as we told you to.”

“We put in double the pasta! It should have been double the time!”

“It doesn’t work that way! If you put the pasta into boiling water at the same time–”

“No! That doesn’t make sense. If you cook a thick slice of meat and a thin slice of meat, the thicker slice is going to need more time–”

“–because the heat is spread out! It’s not touching the outside and the inside at the same time.”

The Demon Bull King snorted, glanced back at his family with clenched fists, and then shook them in Wukong’s general direction.

“It is,” he said.

“Okay, it is but the pasta is like a million thin slices of meat so–”

“–it equals one thick slice of meat.”

“It’s admirable that you’re willing to die on this hill even though you’re wrong,” said Wukong smilingly. 

“You irk me with your breathing.”

The Demon Bull King had obviously chewed more than he could swallow. He didn’t enjoy lengthy conversation to begin with, and had only prepared himself to say thank you and promptly scatter. The more Wukong went off-script, the more frustrated the Demon Bull King would become. 

That was one thing that hadn’t changed about him. Wukong hid a fond smile at the thought.

He coiled and uncoiled his tail, sighed quietly, and then said, “I think I’m getting a little tired,” even though he wasn’t.

“Me too,” agreed the Demon Bull King, even though he wasn’t. 

And that was it for the night– maybe even the rest of Wukong’s life. There would likely be no other times like this; a group of these warriors united under the stars; because the “battle” had already ended, and the rest of their lives readily laid in wait. Could he return to Flower Fruit Mountain and get fat off fruit for the rest of his life? It was what he had wanted, before. But the times had changed, and the desires had changed, and the people had changed… 

But he was alone before he could find the words.

‘And that was just it, was it?’ he thought, watching the Demon Bull King return to Lady Iron Fan’s side with certainty. Things were moving before he was ready. He couldn’t pick up the pieces and place them back like pawns. “Forever” was much too long of a time for him to protect.

The last thought twisted in his belly. It squirmed, hissed, and Wukong suddenly felt sick with anger.

“…The sun, the sun,” Wukong murmured through his clenched teeth. He took a peek at the lazing moon and lashed his tail. “You bring us colorful light. You beautify the lovely flower of our soul.” 

Wukong had believed it to be a lousy lullaby when his Master had taught him it. Tripitaka hummed it to himself first, caught the attention of a curious monkey, and sneakily recited the tune to his hyperactive pupil. Now, Wukong glanced at his sleeping form next to Ao Lie and passed quietly.

“Today we grow under the sunlight,” he mumbled, raising his hands and finding his cloud had obediently appeared at his side. Something twinkled on its surface. Maybe stars, maybe just a trick in the moonlight. He blinked the illusion away and settled into the cloud’s weightless surface.

“Tomorrow we will create a colorful world.”

The sky continued to spin.

“Wukong.”

Wukong’s eyes flung open. He shot frantically to his knees, felt the cloud disperse below him, and in the space between him and solid ground, his tail lashed out and sprung him back to his feet.

Nezha’s serious expression didn’t budge. 

“Come on,” said Wukong, “I still got it.”

“Not if you’re letting anyone sneak up on you like that in your sleep,” replied Nezha, helpfully. He gestured his spear behind Wukong, urging him to look.

Ao Lie smiled a cat-like smile behind him and waved. He looked a little pale and might have been sweating more than usual, but nothing to call for concern. Beside him, Sha Wujing sipped what was probably tea from his chipped little cup. Wukong nodded politely at them. 

On the other side of the site, the Demon Bull family had already left– no goodbyes were exchanged, only an air of respect– and Wukong’s twisting belly threatened to rear its ugly head again. The morning was still pink and yellow, young and new. It didn’t surprise Wukong that two warriors had woken up bright and early for the trek ahead.

“What’s wrong?” asked Wukong. 

Nezha glanced back at the two pilgrims, then lifted his brows. “Private business, meant to be discussed privately.”

Wukong sniffled, but Nezha’s facade left little wiggle room; the poor prince’s fingers tapped anxiously against the shaft of his spear, hidden to the untrained eye, obvious to the Great Sage. Something was brewing behind the scenes. If it had anything to do with Nezha, then it had something to do with Heaven. 

“Go ahead,” said Lie, snapping Wukong out of his thoughts. He smiled at him brightly. “We’re only waiting for the Master… err– Sannnzanggg– to wake up. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I left without saying goodbye, but it was a pleasure seeing you again, Wukong.”

“And Bajie,” added Wujing. The fins along his jaw fluttered as he took another long drink of his hot tea. “He hasn’t woken up yet.” 

Lie huffed humorously, probably thinking over the previous day. He blinked at the snoring pig and then said, “yes, well, but it’s not like he did anything but stare the entire ritual.”

Nezha narrowed his eyes expectantly at Wukong and clenched his weapon. 

“Right, then,” said Wukong, “tell the Master my goodbyes for me. ”

Briskly, Nezha turned and began to stride away from the group.

“Wow! Impatient today, huh?” called Wukong. He picked up into a jog to catch up and slipped in front of Nezha, beginning to walk backwards. “I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the pilgrims, but I think you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Missing your holy, phoenix down-stuffed mattress in Heaven? How’re your joints? Stiff?” 

Nezha wrinkled his nose (likely in warning) before finally stopping just underneath a jutted-out slab of stone; a defect in the site’s structure, perfect for a top-secret discussion.

Wukong tilted his head. 

Usually, Nezha was straight to the point. He knew his duties and he knew how to do them, but something had shifted in the air– and Wukong’s worry shifted with it. 

“Something must really be wrong if you look so… dejected. Cheer up, Nezha! It’s not like the world is ending,” he said. 

“The universe is ending.”

“Hhhphhh… rough night?”

Nezha finally ripped his gaze from the stone behind Wukong and glared.

“Yes, actually. Can you stop being a fool for a moment? As you can probably tell, there’s a lot to say about this, and I’m trying to… find the right words.”

“Right,” said Wukong, “then let me help you out. I have a hunch that Heaven needs help from their old buddy the Monkey King to hunt a scary monster threatening to tear down the heavens. How’s that sound?” 

“It’s more than that,” insisted Nezha coldly. He hung his head, sighed, and then steeled himself. “You’re infuriating, Sun Wukong. The only reason I’m before you right now is by orders from the Emperor. I respect you for your friendship with the Great Monk, but I advise you not to test your luck.”

The dawn shimmered against Nezha’s spear as it rocked back and forth from his fidgeting. Just beyond its point, Lie hovered over Sanzang just as he had when the Great Monk was still under their protection. Old habits die hard. Wukong understood the rigid behavior of Nezha when faced with duty and pride.

“I thought I had already served the sentence Heaven gave me.”

“This isn’t a sentence. You are an ally of Heaven,” Wukong made a face at that, and Nezha continued sterner, “and that means that the Jade Emperor may summon you as he pleases. What he may do if you do not answer his call remains to be unseen.”

Now that Wukong thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to reminisce over retired warriors. A threat to the universe simply meant another round for the Great Sage. He wouldn’t have to return to Flower Fruit Mountain just yet.

Wukong leaned back on the stone, twirled his trusty tail, then smiled.

“Fine. I’ll take the bite.”

The perfect, crisp air filled Wukong’s lungs and lingered like smoke.

“We have the enemy contained deep in the palace,” one of the guards was saying, probably someone of high-importance, but not high enough to matter, “where the Emperor will be waiting for you.”

“Seems like extra effort to bring me in if you’ve already got the guy,” said Wukong. He sniffled, caught wind of unripe peaches, and rubbed at his nose. 

Heaven never changed much. The scents were the same, the lights were the same, and even the tiniest of pests couldn’t wiggle their way through security. If anything, the number of guards out in the garden seemed to have doubled the last time he was here. 

Wukong smirked and titled his head up.

“While we have the source of the problem, the universe’s destruction has already been set into motion. The Emperor believes that our captive is our only way of discovering how to place everything back the way it was.”

The marble steps of the palace tapped under Wukong’s feet. His eyes peeked down to catch sight of any blemishes on the floor; smudges, cracks, anything out of place really; and only found his reflection.

Really? Were the floors that shiny? What overkill.

“If I’m not supposed to be finding this universe-destroying demon, then what am I supposed to be doing?”

His escort hesitated. He looked up at the heavens for assistance, fixed his helmet, and then continued with a brisk shrug, “uh, not my department. Sorry, sir. Please just follow me.”

Wukong rolled his eyes.

Heaven had plenty of secrets, but only few could really keep their mouths shut about it. Maybe he should have been more on-guard about the whole thing. This could have been a trap to imprison him, or an ambush behind the Emperor’s back. But that didn’t make sense. Nezha might be a strike to the shin, but Wukong didn’t think him to be deceitful.

The air went chilly the further down they went. Something like fog began to build, dewy on Wukong’s fur and itchy between his chest and armor. Marbled flooring twisted to stone; first neatly placed in a silly little flowered pattern, then turning chipped and askew. 

He stepped over a particularly deep hole between two old stones. For a moment, he wondered if the flash of scuttling legs in the crevice were real or just his imagination– but then the smell of mold and dust washed over him.

“What a cruel place to keep your prisoners,” said Wukong, quietly. He blinked at the rows of torches and let the raspberry hues guide his eyes. 

The guard hummed. Maybe he was still flustered about his close-fumble earlier, because he wasn’t making eye contact anymore. 

They passed through the hall. The cells enclosed them from both sides.

“Only the worst of the worst are here,” said the guard. “The ones who have tried to bring down the Jade Emperor directly receive very long sentences. Not all of them live to see the end of it.”

Wukong eyed what looked like splintered bones between some bars. Then, he smiled.

“Ran out of mountains to use?” he asked.

The guard nervously cleared his throat.

Very little signs of life remained in this deep, forgotten prison. The spiders here would die from empty webs. The bones of past sentences were picked clean and likely crumbly to the touch. Only one other being lurked the cells, far against the corner, just before they reached the arch at the end of the hall.

A demon with bright, orange eyes grinned at him in the darkness.

Wukong slowed. He looked over long fangs and slithering hair. With a blink, he quickly caught up to his escort.

“Go in,” said the guard before Wukong could ask about the strange demon, gesturing to the entryway. He shifted his feet. He looked a little like a board; maybe a penguin; antsy and tense in the newest shift in the air. With a deep breath, he announced into the doorway, “Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven!” 

Something rumbled. Fog blew out like a breath and swayed Wukong and the guard.

Wukong frowned, gave the guard a parting glance, and entered.

Wukong enjoyed biting more than he could chew. Not only was it a fun challenge, but the risk kept his muscles used, his mind spry, and his heart young. It was like eating peppers for the spice and suffering the kick afterwards. Wukong could risk it, because Wukong always survived, and death could never claim him.

Despite that, Wukong wouldn’t say he was “getting old”. It was honestly more of being “forever young”. The Great Sage couldn’t just retire. Retiring was for old people and fighting dogs– but he supposed that if he said that, it would mean that the Jade Emperor would have to retire. And soon.

Wukong looked over the blue-purple ombre cuts that were splitting at the seams against an undefeatable entity and instinctively stepped back.

“What happened to you?” he blurted, and then promptly nipped that disrespect in the bud. “Uhhh– errr– hi.”

The cuts– Wukong noticed stars shimmering in them, almost like a galaxy– warbled and sang like a winding clock.

“Hello, Monkey,” replied the Emperor. He said it almost like he was spitting it out, but Wukong tried not to take it personally. There could have been a number of reasons right now why he was being snippy. 

The great force neared from the opposite side of the room. The fog, chilly to the bone, twisted in the space between.

“Hi,” said Wukong again. He blinked and cleared his throat. “So, what’s the problem?” 

“You are here because Heaven needs your personal experience to help get rid of our prisoner.”

“Get rid of?” echoed Wukong.

“It can’t be killed,” said the Emperor, and Wukong’s eyes gleamed, “not in the normal sense. Yet it is too destructive to be imprisoned. Our only choice is to have it eradicated. As an ‘immortal’ yourself, you would know a thing or two about finding the loopholes in such matters.”

Wukong cocked his head and considered that. Killing an immortal? Just about everyone in Heaven was immortal. He had tried once, failed, and paid the price for it. And then he went on an entire quest to learn how to not kill people. 

But this prisoner– this immortal– was immortal in a way that even Heaven couldn’t decipher it, much like how they couldn’t decipher Wukong’s layers of immortality. Except this immortal was… worse? Worse enough, at least, to not risk even the five-hundred-years-under-a-mountain punishment. 

“What have they done?” he asked.

“Their existence is what threatens the universe.”

‘That doesn’t make any sense. Can you stop beating around the bush and tell me what’s really the problem?’ Wukong wanted to say, but the Emperor was brief for a reason, answering only what Wukong asked, and leaving the unknown unknown. Wukong needed to be clever if he wanted the full story.

“Like a harbinger?” 

The Emperor tilted his chin up and said, “what an interesting choice of words. Yes, I like that. It’s a harbinger.”

“What of?”

“Chaos, I presume.”

“You don’t know?”

“I know better than you will.”

“Who sent it?”

“The Goddess Nüwa.”

That startled Wukong’s train of thought. He cringed, shook his head, and settled his hands on his hips.

“The Goddess of creation? She made humanity and now she wants to destroy it?”

“You fail to understand me, Monkey. My problem is not with Nüwa, it’s with her rebellious children. Will you lend me your aid or not?”

This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. The last thing Wukong wanted to be was a pawn for something he didn’t understand. The Master had urged him to think before he got too cocky in combat, and boy was Wukong thinking now– thinking about how much he was likely missing from this narrative. 

‘The sun, the sun’, Wukong thought.

A deep grumble started in the Emperor’s throat, almost debating with itself. Wukong perked up, interested, but tried not to show it.

“I do hope you know,” said the Emperor, “that the Harbinger threatens all life– all existence– including yours.”  

“…I doubt it,” said Wukong. He blinked– because his reply had blurted out of his mouth without much thought– before adding, “What I mean is that I can survive without food, without water, without air, and no blade can ever fatally puncture me. I can’t die; no name in The Book to change that.”

The Emperor quirked a large brow, then asked, “Do you think you’re exempt from the ‘entire universe’?” 

Oh.

Well, maybe not, since Wukong lived in this universe. But he’s always been exempt before. The thought of something Wukong had never even met ending not only everyone else’s existence, but his as well? Come on.

…right?

Granted, he shouldn’t make it all about himself. His mind wandered to the other pilgrims, who didn’t have the mercy of a long life that Wukong (thought) he had. Then, he thought of his old brothers, and found that that had only been a drop of poison for his growing doubts.

This could have been a trick. The Emperor may have just wanted to use him. Something cold traveled up Wukong’s arm– likely the cool fog catching up to him– and his mind turned to the only thing he could think straight on.

Nothing could kill Sun Wukong.

The Staff chimed and twinkled. It extended from his ear and dropped familiarly into his hand. 

“Where is it?” he asked.

The Jade Emperor’s face didn’t twitch. Part of Wukong had expected a look of triumph, or a twitch in his resolve, but that didn’t happen. The Emperor took two or three long strides (or floated, Wukong couldn’t tell), lifted his cape, and swooped it where he stood. In its fluttering wake, a cradle of leaves and moss popped out from the drab colors of this forgotten room.

Wukong, immediately, wanted to drop his weapon.

“No,” he spat, suddenly very angry, “No! Do you think this is a joke?”

“If you think I’m trying to play tricks, then I can advise you to close your eyes, count to ten, and look again.”

“You’re…,” Wukong started. He bared his teeth, taking in the Emperor’s challenging gaze before forcing his attention down toward the Harbinger. 

The little monkey in the cradle looked up. It had been sleeping innocently, and it fluttered its eyelashes at the sudden light. Now, it was blinking those honey eyes at him. 

“Hi,” it said in a tiny voice, fit for such a tiny thing.

The end of Wukong’s staff clinked against the stone floor. 

“What is going on here?” he said, ignoring the child. He could feel his fur prickling with anger at the stale scent of Flower Fruit Mountain coming from it, weak and caked with something earthy and milky, but there.

“Do not forget what I’ve told you. The Harbinger being a stone monkey shouldn’t influence the facts; it’s dangerous, Monkey, and it’ll only grow to be our enemy if you allow your feelings to complicate.”

“A stone monkey!” cried Wukong, “my stone monkey, even! Born on Mount Huaguo! You’ve stolen it!”

“A Harbinger of Chaos!” shot back the Emperor, and Wukong willed himself to stay quiet. The little monkey shivered at the whipping fog. It reached up to Wukong with little hands, but he was quick to dodge them. “I urge you to think straight, Sun Wukong. Your similarities to it may have been the reason I chose you to meet me here, but the similarities end with your ability to change. You had opportunities, Monkey, but this one is doomed from the start. There is no changing what it will become. If you cannot see that, then you are as foolish as you were underneath that mountain.”

That cold, twisting anger curdled in Wukong’s belly. He ached to give the Emperor a piece of his mind. ‘Find someone else to do this’ he wanted to say, ‘how dare you shove the duty onto me’. But a voice, little but powerful, was chanting; ‘this thing will kill you. It could kill you. You need to kill it first’.

Wukong’s mouth went dry.

The little monkey cooed. Wukong, on instinct, tilted his head at it, and found that it was staring intensely at Wukong’s tail. He flicked it nervously. The little monkey giggled at the way it twisted. 

“Mnkey,” it squealed, proudly, “mnkey!”

Wukong could feel the Emperor’s gaze on him. He was in the spotlight now, not the Harbinger, and whatever steps he took had to be perfect. What he wanted and what the Emperor wanted were quickly becoming blurred lines. Did the staff stay or go? Did he swing now or later?

“You want me to kill it?” he asked, stupidly, just to make sure.

“Yes.”

“I…” Wukong quickly tried to pull anything from his head, “I don’t know how, but if I could just have time to figure it out…”

The Emperor’s wounds warbled. Wukong watched one split further, cautiously, and he feared for a moment that he would just have to start lashing at the little thing. How cruel it would be if he had to force himself to stay here until it perished.

But then, the Emperor said, “Make haste, then. We can’t afford to waste the precious time that remains. Take the thing. Bring it wherever you’d like; the middle of nowhere, under the sea, to your mountain; find a way to get rid of it. I will have a member of my court check in on you daily.”

Daily? Eugh. How was Wukong supposed to relax when all he could look forward to was one check after another? They might as well be trapped down here for all of eternity. 

“Right,” said Wukong, looking at the monkey, “yeah, rodger that.”

The monkey– Wukong didn’t want to call the monkey ‘it’ anymore– must’ve liked something that came out of his mouth. They smiled at him with itty bitty teeth, and Wukong felt cold at the way his heart melted.

“Right,” he repeated. He sent a fleeting glance at the Emperor before removing his cape.

The air here was chilly. The monkey’s fur was raised by the goosebumps forming on their skin, so he wrapped the poor thing with his cape and brought them up to his chest. 

Something like a “thank you” mumbled from the monkey’s mouth. They tried to grasp onto Wukong’s fur, but the swaddle was too constricting, and his chest plate blocked any further attempt.

“I expect to see you soon, Monkey,” said the Emperor.

Wukong only nodded. He didn’t want to be in this foggy room anymore.

The Harbinger likely didn’t understand the conversation that had just happened. They looked too young to formulate too many words, much less distinguish between more than a couple– but sensing the tone was probably different. They were blinking at him as if spooked. Maybe they were clever enough to realize that they might have not been completely safe after all.

When Wukong left the room, the first thing he heard was a soft exhale. 

He turned and glared at the prisoner. 

“What?” he snapped, and the little monkey tensed. They cooed, as if trying to calm him down, and he pointedly ignored them.

“Nothing,” insisted the snake demon. But his voice was bubbly– giggly, almost– and he smiled toothily at Wukong. “You’re just an interesting character, Great Sage, just as I expected you to be.”

Wukong frowned. He couldn’t entertain this demon. He, too, had been a prisoner of Heaven once, but this one would likely go mad before he was freed of his misery. Wukong had gotten lucky. Wukong didn’t feel entirely lucky.

“Are you one of Nüwa’s children?” 

The demon tilted his head. There was a hint of surprise that flashed across his eyes, but it may have been more amused than anything else. He tested the weight of the shackles around his wrists. They clinked, scraped against scales, and then settled.

“Aren’t we all?” he replied. 

The Harbinger giggled. They must have thought his striking, glowing eyes were interesting. The snake demon smirked at them in return, lifting his fingers to wave them at the little thing.

Wukong, suddenly remembering that this whole story was lost to him, felt horribly like a pawn. He readjusted the child in his arms and briskly headed toward the stairs.

What would Wukong do? Was he to head back to Flower Fruit Mountain? That might be the best course of action– to regather himself from this unexpected event. Then again, he had no idea if the Harbinger had powers; like laser eyes, or fireballs. Maybe keeping them in a collapsable mountain wasn’t very smart.

“You bring us colorful light. You beautify the lovely flower of our soul,” he murmured to himself. The Harbinger pressed their head against the cool chest plate to listen. Wukong’s chest tightened. “Today we grow under the sunlight, tomorrow we will create a colorful world.”

[my-current-obsession]

My hyper-specific type when it comes to otome guys:

- Absolutely pathetic - Cannot speak to a girl normally to save his life - Tries to be calm/aloof, but turns tsundere when flustered enough - A good and pure man at heart, yet does some questionable things - ...Little Red Riding Hood???

[todayisafridaynight]

GENUINELY so funny AraSawa occurred to you too for the hanahaki tags, but thinking about it, I appreciate both scenarios for different (but related?) reasons.

Because I've personally always found the base concept of hanahaki aesthetically immaculate, but impossible to relate to or take seriously. They don't love you back Specifically In A Romantic Sense so your options are either to DIE or have a surgeon come in and delete love.exe? Lol. Lmao even. Couldn't be me. Of course, to each their own, but sort of like what you were saying with Aoki and Yumeno, it's just not something I'm ever going to "get."

With MineDai, something I love about the canon dynamic is that I really don't get the impression Mine's even pressed about Daigo loving him back. Of course, there's a degree of "pining" as shown in his first character story, but it's also immediately subverted in that what Mine was pining for is a simple workplace friendship that would be more reflective of their status as oath brothers in his eyes. Like, fair enough, all things considered, right?

And in spite of the arguments that could be made here, I honestly do believe him overall when he says his love for Daigo is selfless and without ulterior motives. Even with his desire for friendship, it's super important to me that he resolved to never impose that upon Daigo unless it was what Daigo wanted. That's why Daigo had to be the one to initiate their friendship instead.

It's just refreshing, because often the execution of these types of concepts feel sort of adjacent to incel rhetoric in forcing two people together inorganically to lessen the "suffering" of one. Especially with the life-or-death nature of hanahaki played-straight pushing it to an extreme, and especially with the enormous backlog of fan-content where Mine is primarily only concerned with his own desires. But for Mine, because it doesn't cause him Suffering to not be loved back romantically (at least as far as he knows), "the problem of hanahaki" would not about The Pain of Unrequited Love, but a physical manifestation of extant problems.

It'd be about obliviousness, it'd be about miscommunication, it'd be about saying he's fine when he's not, it'd be about how the emotional barriers he puts up only serve to hurt him when his needs are unmet (kind of what we were talking about RE: Katase and past relationships; super excited to dig in and reply btw, I'm just rushing the Yokoyama clip for tomorrow), it'd be about workaholism and the need to overachieve in order to feel accomplished, loved, and wanted, and how all of that might intersect with physical illness.

That I can relate to and take seriously, because ignoring symptoms and keeping them to yourself so as to not inconvenience others really can kill you. Your crush not liking you back? Uh, not so much. But it's certainly not all gloom and doom either, because all of those things can be as comedic as they are tragic. So I think the Short, Sweet and Funny approach would be perfect.

And with AraSawa, it's kind of Just Works, right, precisely because it's another thing for Jo to endure in silence and make excuses for. "Just pretend it didn't happen. Brush it under the rug. That's what you do with secrets." It's so good as a representation of guilt and secrecy. And this is pretty much rehashing something my friend said (not about these two specifically) but if he just came clean, it might stop, but instead he continues to hurt both of them. The flavor.

In the case of Hanahaki for Mine and Jo, I do think and agree it would more be a matter not of their 'beloved' not liking them back, but just the fact they themselves either refuse to openly acknowledge the feeling, or don't try to confront the feeling and do something about it. It's more so an issue of themselves being so focused on being useful and overworking themselves that they give themselves sickness (that sickness spurring from that unspoken of love and the inability to express it because they don't know how to and whatnot)

Maybe it's just because I generally try to see things silly and funny, but yeah I dunno: letting your own overthinking or not wanting to be a disturbance just feels better than what's traditionally done with Hanahaki

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Zoro is fuckboy material.

Sanji is boyfriend material.

Shanks is husband material.

Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.

Earlier I refused to elaborate.

Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.

dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth

Zoro

He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.

Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.

He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.

There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.

Sanji

Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.

He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.

He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.

It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.

Shanks

You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.

His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.

Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.

Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.

Mihawk

Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.

He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.

He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.

But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

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[earthtooz]

x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+ﾟ

in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?

warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<

a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.

you weren’t doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment you’d used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion. 

your heart races- as it does whenever he’s around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.

“wanna date?”

you’re speechless. malfunctioning as you register what he’s saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.

out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rin’s kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?

“uhh, why?” you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.

fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didn’t phase him, not one bit. “isn’t that what two people do when they like each other?”

yeah, romantically. you don’t even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lock’s official team.

you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on. 

the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.

“okay cool, so what should we do now that we’re a couple?” he asks.

you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. “well, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?”

“do you need any help?” he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.

“no it’s fine, thank you though.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah! i don’t want to bother you.”

“well if you do this all by yourself, it’ll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.”

when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close he’d come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little. 

“you know how much i hate waiting. it’s such a pain, so let me help out and you’ll get done faster, right?” his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.

“fine,” you say with a smile. “if you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagi’s ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.”

the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that you’ve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you can’t help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.

if only the internet and ‘#nagi seishiro’ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6’3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise he’d come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.

being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasn’t one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.

you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon. 

sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement. 

whatever. now’s not the time to think too hard about it because you’re about to go on a date with nagi seishiro. 

after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoever’s listening that he can’t feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands. 

“tired, nagi?” you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back. 

“yeah,” whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. “let me take you out.”

“where to?”

“a night market? it’ll be fun.” 

“sure.” 

at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes, 

after grabbing your bags and setting out, you’re violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lock’s soccer player who has taken the world by storm. it’s a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, you’re thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when you’re relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.

the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.

it’s not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your ‘situation’ with nagi. 

the possibility that nagi was using this ‘relationship’ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships. 

except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.

so what’s the appeal behind using you? 

a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole ‘we should date’ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.

if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.

you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.

fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.

“sorry about that,” nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. “i wasn’t expecting paparazzi to be right outside, they’re such a pain.”

“it’s okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,” you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. “stuff like this happens when you’re famous, mr soccer hotshot.”

he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: “does that impress you?”

“why wouldn’t it?” 

you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words. 

“so… where’s this night market? i didn’t know tokyo had many night markets.”

“just in shibuya.”

“won’t it be busy?”

“yeah,” he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: “does that bother you?”

“no not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.”

“‘s won’t be so bad with you there.”

for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that he’s made your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then he’d be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today. 

he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way. 

upon arrival, you’re glad to see that there aren’t too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.

“oh, they have lemon tea,” nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6’3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the maker’s face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.

“two lemon teas please,” requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture ‘two’ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.

“hey, you’re that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?” the owner’s gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.

“oh. sure.”

you take the picture for them, counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldn’t help grinning as well. “i’m putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?”

“coming right up!” 

“did you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?” you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.

he meets your eyes, “yeah, ‘s there something wrong with that?” 

“no, not at all. i wouldn’t mind some lemon tea right now. i’ll pay you back.”

“don’t worry about that,” nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. “everything’s on me.”

“but-”

“-it’s on me.”

the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and you’re compelled to take it, though reluctantly.

“are you two a couple?” the owner asks.

nagi nods, “yeah, we are.”

“ah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,” he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.

“i know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.”

“thank you!” you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two. 

after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, you’re eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.

you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you. 

“oh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,” he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.

“that’s cool,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.

“yeah, he’s a cracked character. been wanting him forever.”

“are you gonna pull? i wanna see him.”

“really?” 

when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesn’t take long before he’s purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the ‘draw x10’ option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.

you’re snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. “no way.”  

“what?” you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. “did you get him?”

“yeah, on the first go,” he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. “that’s never happened before.”

“no way! you’re so lucky!”

nagi’s face erupts into a small smile, and you’re caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.

this feels criminal. 

“nah, i just think you’re my lucky charm.”

a quiet squeak of ‘is that so?’ is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. “so,” you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. “can i see your characters? all of them?”

“all of them?” nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.

“yeah.”

“i showed them to you the other week.”

“okay, well show me this new character then.”

“as you wish.” 

he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagi’s stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.

the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his. 

every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. 

reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see ‘#nagi seishiro’ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ‘nagi seishiro with a new lover?’ shine in your face.

it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold. 

at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your ‘blue lock’ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.

a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately. 

reo: is that you with nagi? 

you: yeah! 

reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything. 

you: haha 😐thanks reo 😐

reo: did he take you to the night market last night?

you: yeah! it was fun :)

reo: that’s good, nagi’s been waiting forever.

reo: don’t break his heart 

you scoff at the irony of reo’s last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, you’re swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6’3 athlete with their bodies. 

“are you really dating nagi?” isagi begins before you could even fit in a ‘hello’.

“uh… yeah?” you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, it’s just that one party is more infatuated with the other.

“damn. i didn’t think it was real,” mutters chigiri. “are you sure? he’s not like… paying you to do this, right? you like like him?”

“yes?” you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. “i’m not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.” nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. “please, no more questions, it’s way too early for this.”

“you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,” reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.

“finally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!” bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.

“see you at practice, nagi!” 

the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.

you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.

“good morning, nagi,” you greet.

“hey, i got you coffee.” instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. “i hope it’s still warm. i’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

“you were waiting for me?” 

“yeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.”

you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.

“i’m sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,” you confess, “but thank you. you’re very thoughtful, nagi.”

his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. “you take public transport to work?”

“i don’t want to pay for parking and everything. it’s not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.” 

the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. “let me pick you up from now on.”

“no, it’s fine. i don’t want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-”

“-i want to.”

your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble ‘ok’ before slipping your hand out of his. you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty. 

after a moment, you regain your senses. “you should be going off to practise. don’t make ego mad before the day even starts.”

he groans, “won’t you come and watch? i’ll feel a little better if you’re there.”

“i have my own work to get to but i don’t have many checkups today so if i can, i will.”

“i suppose that’s good enough,” mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone. 

“work hard, nagi.”

you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.

after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, you’re a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.

nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row. 

you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever it’s nagi’s turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you weren’t at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.

15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.

“why hello there, soccer sensation,” you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.

“hi.”

“you going to go for lunch?”

“yeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?”

“i brought cup noodles but i don’t mind. don’t you want to go with your friends?” 

“you’re better.”

“please shut up, that’s so cringe,” you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. “let’s get lunch together then.”

“let me get dressed,” the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. “what’s up?”

beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. “does your hair not bother you when you practise?” you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. “it’s getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.” 

gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, it’s still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.

then, you gather nagi’s front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, you’re pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought you’d see nagi like this.

when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.

“can i keep the hairband?” he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.

“it’s just a hairband,” you say.

“so you won’t miss it right?”

“no, i won’t-”

“-okay, epic,” he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. “can i get changed now?”

“yes, go.”

whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you can’t help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no one’s fault but your own.

nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.

nagi, your loving ‘partner’ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because it’s like an immediate ‘full heal’ but you just think that he’s too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that you’re the next best thing.

whatever. at least he’s cute.

“i hardly see you nowadays,” he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace. 

you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. “i’m sorry, i don’t have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i don’t get home until 6:30. then i’m practically out like a light.”

he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. “well, tomorrow’s a saturday. can i take you out?”

“i don’t know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so i’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“be serious.”

“i am free tomorrow.”

“sick. keep it that way.”

“even if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?”

he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrow’s date with nagi. 

he’s still wearing your hair tie around his wrist. 

true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, it’s the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, you’re a little stunned by the amount of disguises he’s wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, you’re not sure whether he’s going to attract more attention or blend in.

also, when you’re 6’3 it’s hard to avoid eyes.

“hey, i’m supposed to meet someone called nagi, he’s got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?” you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. “i’m just kidding.”

nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. “your boyfriend is right here,” he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine. 

“so he is,” you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. “what’s with the disguise?”

“i don’t want anyone to ruin our day out so i’m wearing this.”

“ever so thoughtful aren’t you?” 

when you take a step back, nagi’s careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders. 

“should we get going?”

“yeah.”

the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.

“it’s finally spring,” nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. you’re surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. “the cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.”

“i like the cold weather,” you say. “it’s easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.”

“that is true.”

“do you like spring?”

“yeah, ‘s my favourite season.”

you didn’t think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. “why’s that?”

“it’s a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i don’t have to do much nor think about much.” 

such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, it’s a comforting quality and aspect to have. 

“plus it’s your birthday season,” you add. 

he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: “it’s my birthday season.”  

nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isn’t the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.

the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before you’re led to get on one of the boats. 

“so… are you liking the date?” nagi asks when you’re out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.

“i am, i’ve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but i’ve just never found the time,” you confess. “i’m glad that it’s with you. thanks, nagi.” 

he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. “it’s okay, i s’pose.”

“you’re so cute,” you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.

“stop,” he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.

a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.

“i wanted to give you something to mark two months,” he tells you and you feel your heart drop.

“wait what? two months? i didn’t know we were celebrating that!” (because you spend too much time fretting over the day he’d tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) “i didn’t get you anything, i feel terrible now-”

“-it’s not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.”

“nagi i can’t accept this, this is too good-”

“-i insist.”

“but i don’t have anything for you-”

in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that you’re stupefied into silence. “i. insist.”

you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought. 

a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. it’s in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldn’t have been cheap.

looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, you’re silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that it’ll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. “you shouldn’t have.”

“i wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.”

you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.

“where did you learn to be so romantic?” you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt. 

“shoujos,” he answers shamelessly.

“ah.” makes sense as to why he makes you feel like you’re in one. “can you help me put the necklace on?”

the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. “y-yeah, of course.”

“thank you.” 

when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses. 

“how do i look?” you ask, turning back around.

“beautiful,” he says, no louder than a whisper.

eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck. 

“nagi, look!” you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. “should we take one?”

“sure,” he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated. 

when it’s your turn, there’s hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash. 

“you guys are so cute!” the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadn’t regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back. 

glancing down at the photo strip, you’re stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.

you might explode or something. 

“cute,” nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. “i still have one place i want to take you.” 

“do you?” you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled ‘private picnic rooms’ with various price ranges according to the number of people.

once again, he claims to have a reservation and you’re led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running. 

“you… really outdid yourself,” you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.

you’re not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.

“so you like it?” 

“i do. i love everything you’ve done today, you’re too good for me.”

“not true,” he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.

your relationship doesn’t make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic? 

picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression. 

he’s so cute, you could pinch him.

your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagi’s hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.

“aww you look really cute with pink!”

“ya think so?” 

“yeah! you’re so pretty nagi,” you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close you’d gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.

then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagi’s beauty from an angle you hadn’t before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro. 

he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.

your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagi’s lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul. 

did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isn’t into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?

why does he look so hurt when he didn’t?

this was all so confusing.

tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagi’s satisfied.

you don’t notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you won’t find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagi’s apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his ‘to-watch’ list.

“stay the night?” asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen. 

“oh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then i’ll get going,” you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him. 

“oi. don’t ignore me.”

with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. “i can’t.”

“why not? we don’t have work tomorrow.” 

“i know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.”

“you’re not botherin’ me. there’s so much space here, it feels empty without you.”

“nagi-”

“-won’t you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?”

the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.

in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.

“okay, seishiro.”

he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. “yay.”

you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be. 

“stay the night, please?”

how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? “okay, seishiro.”

“yay.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“hey seishiro, are you ready?” you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).

“yeah. let’s go-” he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. “-whoa.”

heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when he’s close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. “like what you see?”

he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. “we don’t have to go to isagi’s,” he mumbles. “how do we feel about staying in?” 

“don’t. your best friend is hosting this party, can’t you at least show up for him?” 

the white-haired sulks. “but you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?”

you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriend’s lazy attitude. “isagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?” 

“fine.”

twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagi’s place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did. 

truthfully, you were looking forward to isagi’s party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldn’t exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.

bachira’s cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets he’s had upon arrival. 

“hey it’s the couple of the century!” he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachira’s compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. “lookin’ good as always!” 

“yo, where’s isagi?” the white haired questions.

“around, i’ll take you to him c’mon!” 

the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.

walking around the hallways of isagi’s, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. it’s not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.

“hey!” the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. “it’s good to see you, y/n, how are you?”

“hey chigiri, hey reo, i’m good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagi’s really outdone himself,” you greet.

“yeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,” reo chips in. “nice outfit by the way, you served!”

“oh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.” 

“so… where’s nagi?” the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. “didn’t he come with you?”

“yeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.”

after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagi’s whereabouts might be. you thought he’d come and find you after a while but guess you’ll search for him first. 

informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that they’ll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagi’s friends sitting too close for comfort.

when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you can’t put your finger on.

then he looks over at you.

the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear. 

you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, he’s not really yours and it’s moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his-

“-where are you going?” comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, you’d know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that he’s spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory. 

you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.

“i-i thought i was interrupting something,” you stammer, looking into at nagi’s doe eyes.

“you didn’t. actually, you made it better by coming,” he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. “that person wouldn’t leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.”

you return the hug, trusting his words. “glad i came too.”

nagi pulls you out of the water.

“can we leave yet? i don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“just a little longer. i haven’t even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.”

he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.

you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him ‘happy birthday’, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, you’re pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.

with a laugh, you give in.

nagi doesn’t really know how to dance but you can’t help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays. 

hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.

this time you don’t feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion. 

instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as he’ll allow and even then, you’ll cherish every last part.

you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.

parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and… love?

snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining… this. 

you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. it’s immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way you’re about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you don’t forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?

for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when it’s him you’re running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.

for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagi’s house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.

“why do you keep doing this?” he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. “why do you keep running away?”

you’re stunned. he’s hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet. 

“am i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.”

“i-i’m confused,” you stammer stupidly. 

he grows even more perplexed. “you’re confused? i’m even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, you’re trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesn’t feel like you like me at all sometimes.”

“no!” you blurt out. “it’s not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even… love you? it’s just…”

as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.

this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet you’ve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him. you’ve been hurting him this entire time and you don’t know how to begin explaining why.

well… no other option than with one word at a time.

you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. “i didn’t think we got together based on genuine feelings.”

he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching. 

“i thought you were using me to- i don’t know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldn’t believe that you would want me for me,” you ramble, only stopping to breathe. “these few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like ‘surprise! i’ve never liked you’ before leaving me. i don’t deserve someone like you and-” 

“what?”

you shut up.

“you thought you don’t deserve me? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard. you’re perfect. i was the one that got lucky.”

“lucky? you? really?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “you’re like a gift sent by fate.”

that renders you speechless for a little. there’s more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe that’s for another time. 

are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe you’ll start floating too. 

“also, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?”

“i don’t know! you asked me out really abruptly- i’ve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!”

“i see.”

“yeah.”

more silence.

“so… you love me?” nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment. 

“i guess i do,” you grumble.

“hey, don’t hide from me,” the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. “i love you too.”

“really?”

“yeah.”

“that’s cool.”

“it is.”

you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“sei, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?” you ask when nagi’s mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.

he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. he’s sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and you’re a little envious of how comfortable he looks. “i was until i realised you weren’t there. i was waiting for you to show up.”

“well i don’t really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.”

“i see.”

“why, did you want me there or something?” you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.

“why else would i walk all this way?”

“a stunning 50 metres- i’m so sorry for your perilous journey,” you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.

your role as blue lock’s official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you aren’t their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed. 

after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. “i can go to the field now. there’s probably tape changes that i need to do.”

nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. “yay.”

“you need to be warming up while we’re at it.”

“aw. okay.”

the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?

stepping in to the field, you’re overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lock’s home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.

“y/n!” isagi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. “what’s up?”

“hey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,” you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: “go continue warming up.”

he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.

“so what’s up?”

“i just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?”

“that is my job so come over,” you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being. 

whilst you’re unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him. 

“do you want pink or blue tape?” you ask, holding up the two options.

“pink.”

the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagi’s ankle.

“how are you and nagi?” he asks.

“we’re good,” you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. “both been busy cause of the season but it’s fine.” 

“that’s okay, you’re making it work!” he reassures, “well, nagi is really happy.”

“is he now?” you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagi’s ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.

“yeah! always talks about you to us.”

“does he?”

“of course, why wouldn’t he? swears you’re the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.”

your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall. 

finishing up on isagi’s ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. ‘don’t work too hard!’ you yell out after him.

after retaping chigiri’s knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of ‘hurry up!’ yelled at your white-haired partner.

“gotta go,” he says breathily.

“wait, shouldn’t you take this off?” you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist. 

“do i have to?”

“you can always rewear it after the match sei, it’s not a big deal.” 

“fine. i’ll see you soon then.”

you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. “go. i’ll be watching, my superstar.”

his eyes shine. “cheer for me, won’t you?”

“of course i will. i’m your lucky charm,” you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.

“can my lucky charm give me a kiss?”

cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps that’s just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.

“go line up!” you command. 

nagi grumbles something before stepping away, “i’ll score for you.” 

he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism. 

sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.

when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you. 

as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.

it’s not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the referee’s whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.

“where are you?” one medic begins asking.

“the stadium. we’re in the middle of a match,” comes rin’s gruff tone.

“you are?”

“itoshi rin.”

“how many fingers am i holding up?”

“four.”

“what hurts?”

“my fucking face,” rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. “shit.”

taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medic’s area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully it’s not serious and he won’t need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was. 

in your panic, you don’t register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like ‘look at that cutie. reckon i could cuff ‘em?’ where his friend replies with a ‘yeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workin’ as a nurse and shit’, geturing to you.

nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.

the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagi’s train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition. 

blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. he’s moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that you’ve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?

maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.

however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagi’s jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. he’s never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.

only you could do this to him.

and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him

when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched. 

nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and… do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine. 

he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.

“can i kiss you?” nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much he’s been running around.

short circuiting for a moment, you reply: “but everyone’s watching.”

“let them.”

you’re well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?

the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.

you adore how scandalous this feels.

his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, there’s an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts ‘NAGI’ along the back. everything descends into chaos. 

an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. it’s different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.

nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them. 

and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagi’s here?

the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes. 

“mine,” he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.

the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and ‘#nagi seishiro’ has taken the internet by storm once again.

this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, you’re absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.

speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth. 

shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. he’s adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.

“oh. why are you awake?” he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.

“body clock,” you say. you’ll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.

“turn it off and go back to sleep.”

“fine.”

“c’mere,” nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.

it’s not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.

shuffling back towards him, he’s quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in. 

“my body hurts,” whines nagi. “so much.”

“what do you want me to do about that?”

“massage later, please?” 

“is that all i am to you?” you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.

“maybe,” he sings.

astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. “we’re breaking up.”

“no, don’t do that,” nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. “don’t be mean.”

“oh sure because i’m the mean one,” you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. “you’re trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.”

“i didn’t mean for that to happen. i’m just too good,” he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. “and i love you too much to hide it.”

you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. “go back to sleep.”

“‘k. goodnight.” the second nagi’s head hits his pillow, he’s out like a light. 

it’s a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isn’t enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times. 

if it’s you he wants, then you’ll happily grant it.

the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

[justwonder113]

Head over heels - Lee Know

part 2

Warning: Mentions of drinking, Minho is a bit tipsy but he's sober by the end of it. Rader is getting hit on by some weird dude. Slightly suggestive at the end. Minho is staring at the reader's chest. GN reader. Not proofread. Please tell me if I missed anything

Word count -1.8k

Masterlist

A/N- I'm finally back!! Thankfully I got over the virus and more than dedicated to write as much as I can. I have many ideas and can't wait to write all of them. Thank you for all the love and support you've given me it truly means the world to me. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. If you have any requests too feel free to do so. Take care of yourselves, love you all❤️

When is the right time to say that you're head over heels in love with someone? Perhaps when they do something really romantic and/or selfless. Something probably really kind and generous, something really cool... Probably not when they are dazed from having a bit too much to drink and look like they are about to fall asleep any given second now, right? Yup, you were definitely weird, probably the main reason you and Minho clicked this well. Okay in your defense you knew you were smitten with him for a while obviously, who wouldn't fall for him? it just downed on you though how down bad you actually were.

Really though. To think that you would realize that you're in love with your best friend when his like anywhere but this world is beyond crazy, even for you.

"Pretty boy do you want me to bring you some water?" You asked after seeing him blink slowly yet another time. You were at this club Hyunjin had invited you at. The music was blasting on the full volume and everyone was having the time of their life, well maybe except you and Minho. Normally you would be also be having fun with your friends but now everything felt a bit dull. Maybe because you didn't drink anything. You had bad flu earlier and you just didn't feel like drinking today. As for Minho, normally the drinks didn't get to him that easily, but he wad been overworking himself a lot lately and due to the fatigue even such small amount of alcohol as two or three shots got to him pretty easily.

Minho looked at you with dazed eyes for a second or two, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Something glimmered in his already sparkly eyes and he gave you a small smile. God, he looked so squishy and cute like this you wanted to pinch his cheeks. Not that you would, he had this tough persona to keep. Also not to sound weird but you didn't want others to notice how cute he was. Let's just say you wanted to gatekeep him for yourself.

After Minho gave you a small nod you got up and headed to the bar. There were a lot of people in line so you would probably have to wait quite a while to get something as simple as glass of water. You texted Minho that this could take a minute or two and started waiting for your turn. Meanwhile from the corner of your eye you saw someone shamelessly check you out, like, could they be any more obvious about it? You prayed that he wouldn't approach you while you also crossed your fingers for the bartender to hurry up. You decided to ignore it. You didn't see anything.

Unfortunately your prayers hadn't been answered, the sleazy man decided to approach you, honestly the audacity some people had. You tried to keep your distance but it was all in vain. The man stood in front of you now. He even made a show of slowly checking you out. God what a pig. You really tried your best to compose yourself, you really didn't need to make a scene now.

"Hello. Gorgeous can I buy you a drink?" God even his voice was so annoying. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep calm. With the most polite voice you could muster you answered that you were good and that you were with someone. But the dude still kept pestering, making your blood boil even more. Who the hell did he think he was? You had enough of this, you were about to warn him that you would call the security on him, when hands wrapped around you. You stiffened for a second, but relaxed when you noticed that it was Minho. The strange man grumbled. "Shit, boyfriend of yours?"

Minho answered before you could, his hands tight around your waist, his glare cold as ice. "Yes, now fuck off." The man was about to argue but Minho's death glare shut him up quickly. The man slithered away to disturb someone else you guessed. You noticed to yourself to nitify security about him. He seemed shady.

You turned your full attention to Minho, who kept hugging you and now had rested his head on your shoulder. He still felt sleepy you guessed. "You took too long." He grumbled after a few seconds of silence. You turned your head and kissed the top oh his head. Minho grunted again. "Sorry pretty boy. Let's get you that water." You took a step towards the bar but Minho stopped you.

"Don't want it anymore."

You fully turned to Minho and started closely examining him, his face was unreadable though.

"Hey, how are you? Are you okay?"

"Just tired. Can I stay at yours?" You thought for a minute jokingly which Minho didn't really appreciate which he showed by softly pinching your side. Really, what was up with him being all cute today? You couldn't help yourself and you gave him a little peck on his cheek.

"Sure." Minho didn't say something, and you couldn't read anything on his face. He held his hand towards you and after you held it he started leading you to others so that you could say your goodbyes.

The walk to your house wasn't long. You appreciated the comfortable silence between you two. It was peaceful. You also loved how extra protective Minho was over you, he didn't let go of your hand whole way. Your heart felt like it would burst from joy.

You sighed in relief once you walked into the safehold of your house. It felt so good to be home. Like the two youthful people you were you immediately started getting ready for bed. You of course on top that pestered Minho to drink plenty of water before going to sleep. You didn't want him to wake up with a hangover. Surprisingly he was being obedient. You also couldn't help but admit that sleepy Minho was absolutely adorable. To you he just looked so soft and squishy all you wanted to do was to cover his whole face with kisses. And from the way how whiny he was, telling you that you should hurry up already and come to him he would most likely let you.

You didn't know when you crossed the boundary between being friends and well something more, but here you were now. You were always touchy with each other and flirting was a regular occurrence too, you didn't know when these playful banters became meaningful and made your heart flutter, you didn't really know when did you get so extra affectionate but you loved it if it meant that maybe you two could become something more.

You tried to get ready for bed as fast as possible, but the chains you had worn today didn't really let you. They managed to get stuck and you didn't really feel like going to sleep in them. So you turned to Minho who laid across on your bed. Diagonally like a sweet person he was. He had changed into the sweats and oversized shirt he had left at your house, but as it seemed he got lazy to get under the covers. "Min can you help me with these?" You asked sweetly as possible. Minho didn't answer and you thought that he fell asleep again laying diagonally on your bed, but he got up after a couple of seconds. He looked at you with unimpressed eyes waiting for you to ask what you wanted. You motioned towards your bundled up chains. Minho grumbled again but immediately started working on it.

The chains were more tangled up than you could imagine. Minho kept grumbling about how he should just snap them but still kept diligently working through every knot. You had no idea how did they get so tangled up on your neck. You got curious on what was taking so long and looked down and only when did you notice that upper buttons were open and you were showing quite a decent amount of cleavage. You felt shy for a second but then as if on cue you noticed how Minho's eyes kept shifting down towards your exposed skin. Let's just say it was a nice ego boost. Subtly as possible you even straightened up a little so you could show off your assets better. You didn't know if Minho knew you did that on purpose but his eyes sure did appreciate the sight. You didn't even realize you were staring at him, before he looked up and your eyes met. Suddenly you felt lost at words. How was he so gorgeous? You could use every word in dictionary and still it wouldn't be able to fully express his beauty. You wondered for a second if he was aware just what he did to you. God, you could just stare at him for hours.

"I did it." He spoke calmly as he placed your chain on your hands. "I think I know how you should thank me." Was it you or was he really close? You could even feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes couldn't help but shift from his eyes down to his pretty lips. What were you even doing? Minho noticed your wandering eyes, his gaze also shifted down to your lips.

His finger touched under your chin and slowly lifted your face so that you were eye to eye again.

"What do you have in mind?" You found your voice after a few long seconds of being rendered speechless.

"I want to kiss you so bad." Minho's confession sent shivers down your spine. Good thing that you were sitting on your bed, you felt like you would fall otherwise. You felt like fanning yourself, your whole body felt so hot.

"What's stopping you then?" You quipped back, he was so close now with each breath your lips slightly grazed each other.

"Nothing." His voice was raw with emotion. You didn't even get to say anything, his lips were on you in matter of milliseconds. The kiss was raw, passionate. It ignited you, you felt alive now that you had the taste of his lips. It was everything and so much more, it was like he tried to convey his feelings with this kiss.

Guess you were not the only one head over heels for the other.

[randoimago]

May I ask for Astarion, Wyll, Shadowheart, and Gale having a 'Wait, why am I jealous?' realization of their romantic feelings for Tav? (For the record, Tav is romantically interested in the companion, too, because I can't handle angst right now 🥲)

Realizing They Have Feelings

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Might be tiny hints of angst just because of character backstory mentions, but I did my best with these for you!

Astarion

He doesn't get jealous. People get jealous because of him. And yet, the way he sees one of the harpers at Last Light look at you. That look of reverence for saving them.

One that almost looks at you like a god and a face that flusters when you catch their stare. Astarion, feels the twisting in his gut and it causes him to pause.

Yes he's flirted with you. He's lied and said he's into you. But now, he's not sure it's lies anymore.

And that scares him a bit. With how uncertain the future is, his survival, dealing with Cazador, well it's just a lot of uncertainty and does he even have the time to think of his feelings? Well, Astarion is nothing if not selfish.

Of course he knows your feelings towards him and that makes his admittance a bit easier on his part. The confessing about his intent on manipulating you was a bit harder to get off his tongue especially with the hurt you display.

But you accept his apology and Astarion is so lost on how an actual relationship or whatever you both have is supposed to go. But he's happy to explore it with you.

Gale

Gale flirts with you quite a bit. He doesn't even hide the fact that he finds you attractive. You have a very attractive face, why would he hide his affection? But it never really was anything beyond just simple flirtations.

And then he sees how that tiefling blacksmith smiles at you, how you smile back and he can't help pouting.

For a split second, he's a bit frightened that the weird feeling in his stomach is the orb before he sighs in relief that it's just jealousy.

And then he gets more pouty at the fact that he is jealous. Perhaps his fondness of your pretty face is about more than just your face.

It takes a bit of practicing his speech, redoing certain sections and sighing loudly at how ridiculous this is (but he also finds the amusement in it too).

Eventually, he tells you the truth of his affections. His harmless flirtations had evolved into actual romantic feelings towards you. And the brightest smile crosses his face as you return them. Now you just got to help him not explode and you'll be great.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart thought she was ready to kill Lae'zel before. But now she's hearing comments about your scent and how the gith wants to claim you.

The cleric can't help but scoff and take a sip of one of the thousands of bottles of alcohol that you have in your pack for some reason. Maybe she could throw one of the copies of Traveler's Guides books at her since you have so many copies for some reason.

What Shadowheart doesn't understand is why she's so upset. You're an adult, you can make your own decisions and enjoy yourself with whomever you wish.

And yet, you saved her. You've accepted her silence and wish to keep secrets. And it's at that moment, Shadowheart realizes that she's jealous and she can't help scoffing again because how did she get so pathetic?

She wants to stay silent, keep her feelings a secret as well, but she can't hold them back. Especially when her secrets are revealed to you and then you ask about her favorite flower of all things.

Her feelings end up coming out and instead of turning away and rejecting her (like she expected of all her reveals), you accept them as well. And even reciprocate. She's going to need another bottle of alcohol and this time, she hopes you join her in the drink.

Wyll

He's not really one for jealousy. A dash of disappointment, maybe, but he's got enough demons and devils that he doesn't need to think about the green one.

That's why whenever he sees you flirting with another, well it does give him some disappointment that perhaps he is too late due to his slow realization.

There's also some self consciousness that comes with it too. After all, Wyll isn't as charming or handsome as he once was with the new horns growing out of his head.

Still, he can't help but cherish the memories he had when asking for a dance and you agreeing.

Considering he had gotten this far with a dance, Wyll decides that he might as well tell you his feelings that have been slowly, but surely growing.

Imagine his surprise when you accept him, half-devil appearance and all. Wyll can't help finding his worries silly in hindsight, but he'll laugh at himself later. After he's had that dance.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[chaosisalwayscrying]

NSFW ABC’S

⇥ synopsis : nsfw abcs for chris (my man)

⇥ warnings : smut/suggestive themes

⇥ extra : this is also late but my mom has not left me alone long enough to actually write these on time 😭😭

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

   hes so good at aftercare!! like he is so so gentle. asks before pulling out and SPRINTS to get a rag to clean you up with, or if youd prefer he turns on the shower and helps you get clean before dressing you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

   chris loves his hair, he loves how you tug on it as hes eating you out, and he loves the way you play with it when hes draped on your chest

    chris loves your ass and hips. he loves the way your ass jiggles when you walk up the stairs from his room, loves the way it bounces when you ride him, and he loves seeing his handprints on it

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

   never used condoms, youve been on bc since chris suggested starting to have sex. he obviously asked you about condoms multiple times in the middle of sex, scared youd changed your mind and he just forgot (bless his heart)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

   LOVES LOVES LOVES when you blindfold him. loves not knowing whats gonna happen, he also loves how it heightens his other senses

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

   had 2 bodies before you, so he had some experience under his belt, but he still asked you what you were comfortable with

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

   doggy and reverse cowgirl. backshots are his absolute favorite thing ever because he can easily smack your ass and grip your hips hard as hell. he also loves watching your ass bounce as you bounce on him im reverse cowgirl, turns him on so bad

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

   nothing is serious to chris, hes cracking jokes left and right. only sometimes will he let it be more serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

   hes shaved not bald. has DEFINITELY let you use wax to make designs in his hair 😭😭

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

   can be romantic but doesnt do it often, hes not very good at it. praises you to the max to make up for it when hes trying to be more serious 😇

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

   he did it a LOT before you got together, but now that youre together he doesnt as much anymore. you do enjoy sending him nudes so he can send you videos of him jerking off in return tho

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

   mommy kink ‼️ he calls you ma outside of the bedroom anyway, but if hes feeling like being a sub hes whining out mommy every other word and LORD ITS HOT

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

   anywhere. if matt and nick are gone, hes a big fan of bending you over the kitchen table. in public he will literally follow you into the dressing rooms and press you up against the mirror

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

   literally anything. if its a serious situation hes not even thinking like that, but accidentally look at him the wrong way and hes hard, squat to get something, hes hard, change in front of him, hes hard. (bless his horny little heart)

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

   brat taming, doesnt like the idea of punishing you or having you act a certain way 24/7

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

   this man could happily spend a year of his life buried between your legs. will literally eat you out until youre spent beyond belief. he doesnt mind you sucking his dick but he would much rather have you bouncing on it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

   fast and rough 95% of the time, but he can absolutely be slow and sensual if thats what you want. his pace depends all on you, you say go faster? hes going faster immediately. you say slow down? hes slowing down without a complaint and pressing a kiss to whatever bit of exposed skin he can

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

   LOVES LOVES LOVES QUICKIES. at a party? youre going to the first bathroom he can see without a line. at the mall? dressing room. at a restaurant? bathroom.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

   chris isnt opposed to experimenting, hes down to try most things once, but he does have a list of hard nos.

   however, he will take as many risks as he possibly can that youre ok with

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

   3 or 4, doing so many sports as a kid paid off because he has an insane amount of stamina. can go three rounds without even faltering, sometimes the fourth isnt possible cause he gets tired, but if hes REALLY horny he can go for four

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

   he owns none but you own a dildo and vibrator. he likes using them on you to tease you, and he likes watching them use them on yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

   chris loves to tease but if he can see you arent feeling it he stops without you having to say anything (hes observed all your signs during and not during sex so he can read you like a book)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

   sort of loud. if hes giving you backshots hes grunting and groaning but hes not being quiet about it, and if youre riding him, hes moaning and groaning and whining loud

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

   saw a tiktok about this couple doing a clone-a-willy, and very eagerly asked you if you would what that 😭 (clone-a-willy is this thing where you make a silicone mold of your dick and mail it to the company to make a dildo out of and they send it back)

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

   CHRIS IS THICK. he isnt too long but the thickness makes up for it. definitely needs to stretch you before even thinking about putting his dick in you 😭

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

   9/10, dude is ALWAYS HORNY, but he knows when to be serious and can go from 9/10 to 0/10 real quick

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

   falls asleep so fast, but he would never let himself fall asleep before you were both back in bed and comfortable.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630 @sturniolololover @stqrnstars @cicicinquistausa @tylerthecreatorsrealwife

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

hello! i’m not sure if ur taking requests but maybe an astarion x bard! tav who is neutral good? ik in game he hates it when we’re nice, so i’m wondering how you think he’d handle a tav who is not only kind but also not really interested in sex

Oooh, I like this! Time to bring out the bitchy cat energy. Because he is a bitch. Lot of Act 1 in game references here btw. Sfw, but y'know, Astarion sad boy backstory is always looming. Also conveniently ignoring the canon fact that Astarion doesn't know how to swim because I can~~~

~

Astarion supposed he could have come across a worse rag-tag crew of undesirables to associate with. It was made clear, disturbingly quickly, that he wouldn't have made it out here on his own. Not with the goblins and cultists lurking around every corner. And a damn vampire hunter for gods' sake.

Astarion could have done much worse than this merry-band of weirdos. Like laying dead in a ditch for instance. That said, it didn't change the fact that he was quickly growing tired of their leader's antics.

You were just so annoying. So selfless, in one of the stupidest ways he had ever seen. For one thing, why one earth would you ever trust a gith or Shar priestess? Or a vampire spawn for that matter. How no one had stabbed you in the back yet was beyond him, considering how you gave them every opportunity to do so.

Not that Astarion would, or at least not yet. But he could. Easily, considering all the misguided trust you had put in him.

But despite your flaws, he had to admit that you were capable, that much was clear. You were strong, quick, witty, and not above deception to keep the peace. He.... liked that about you, in a way. The extent to how far you would go to save others. It was courageous, as well as incredibly stupid, but he could respect it.

Slightly.

it helped that you were a cute little thing, even with the aggravating sunshine personality. Cute enough for Astarion to start thinking of... certain options. You would be easy to manipulate, he was sure of that. Enough so where his life could become one of your top priorities. You already seemed to like him, without him turning on the charm. It would be so easy to get you wrapped around his finger, with nothing but a few shiny words and some pleasant bed-warming. Nothing that he hadn't done before. And if anything, your absurd levels of kindness could.... make everything a little more pleasant than what he was used to. Gods willing.

And tonight seemed as good a time as any, considering everyone was still on a high from being the tiefling's heroes. You were excitedly talking at him, adorable in a frankly infuriating way. Or maybe the wine was working on him more than he had anticipated, he wasn't quite sure. But... your smile seemed extra enchanting tonight.

Enough so for him to get to the point after you asked how he was feeling, "I'm just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun."

You cocked your head at him, innocently confused as he continued, "You know, we could always make our own entertainment darling. Get a little closer, so to speak."

"Sure!" You said, jumping on the opportunity faster than even Astarion had expected, "Can we do it now?"

Astarion blinked, pleased if not a bit surprised. He's not wholly against giving the camp a show, though the children still lurking about definitely put a damper on things. But maybe if you went far enough away...

"And can I choose what we do?" You asked, a wide smile on your face.

Astarion laughed, delighted at just how easy this was going to be, "Depends on how adventurous you're planning on being."

He hadn't expected you to grab his hand, easily intertwining your fingers with a smile, "I can show you."

Astarion hadn't been prepared for the quick escalation of events, but he was happy to abide by it. He nodded his head, giving your hand a small squeeze before saying, "Then lead the way."

And lead the way you did, right to the Waypoint of the swamp. Not exactly the most romantic place to be having sex, but Astarion had done worse. That was until you conjured the dancing lights, the dreary darkness suddenly transforming what should have been a putrid bog into a dreamy landscape, filled with flowers and freshwater.

Astarion looked to you, eyes wide, "How...?"

"We purified it!" You announced with a massive grin, "We did it this morning, before the party. Halsin and the other druids came down, I amped up their magic with a fantastic song, and bam! No more stench of the hag. Isn't it pretty?"

That... sounded exactly like something you would do, sweet thing that you were. Astarion nodded as he looked around, a little touched that you brought him here at all.

But as nice as the gesture was, he wasn't here for strictly fun. He had a plan, one that you were doing a wonderful job of putting into motion. Considering how you were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head.

You looked at him expectantly, laughing a little when he rushed to join you. But before he could get his underclothes off, you were stepping away from him and... jumping into the water?

Astarion stared as you sputtered up to the surface, wiping your face with a loud laugh, "My gods, it's cold!"

"What on earth are you doing?" He called out to you, cautiously walking towards the water, "Are you trying to freeze to death?"

"Oh, hush!" You said, waving your hand in the air with a splash, "If we can kill an entire goblin camp than we can handle some cold water. Now get in already!"

Had he mentioned that you were aggravating yet?

But he hadn't made it this far to back out now. Besides, this was far from being on the list of the worst seduction tactics that he had to endure. Though it may have been the oddest one. Astarion couldn't remember a single time that jumping into a purified water pool led to lovemaking. But there was a first for everything. Though it didn't help that the water was indeed freezing.

"For fuck's sake," Astarion cursed when he came up for air, "This is your definition of fun?"

You giggled as you swam towards him, stopping to wrap your arms around his neck with a smile. Another unexpected move from you, a factor that he hadn't expected, but found oddly endearing.

You were playing with a lock of his wet hair, twisting it between your fingers as he wrapped his arms around you, "Well the fun part hasn't started yet."

Astarion laughed softly, his eyes zeroing in on your lips, "Is it about to start now?"

"I think it is," You whispered back, "You ready for it?"

"More than you know," Astarion murmured, leaning in to finally connect your mouth.

But before he could press his lips against yours you were dodging him, giggling as you whispered in his ear, "Good. Let's race."

And then you were pulling away from him entirely, diving under the water just to show back up a few feet away, a manic grin on your face, "Whoever gets to the opposite bank first wins!"

And then you were off, swimming away. You little cheater. Astarion didn't even think as he want after you, a childish competitiveness taking over. You still won, of course you did with that large of a head start, but he managed to beat you on the second and third try.

By his fourth win you were officially pouting, which only devolved into a splashing fight from there. One that he gracefully let you win.

It was all so stupid. Completely juvenile and beneath him. But then why was he having so much fun?

Eventually, you both got out of the water, opting to sit on the bank as you talked. Just... talking. Nothing more, and about the silliest things:

"If Halsin can turn into a bear, do you think I could learn how to grow an extra finger or two? It would make the lute playing so much easier."

"If you don't mind looking like a freak than sure. Are you thinking of literally growing them or having them attached?"

"If, and just hypothetically, Lae'zel and Shadowheart fought to the death, who would win?"

"Darling in all honesty, I think it would just devolve into lesbian sex."

"If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would it be?"

"...I think it would be here."

It was a startlingly fun conversation, one that had Astarion being sincere in ways that made him uncomfortable. But that didn't stop him from participating. The two of you talked about anything and everything until the sky started to lighten, both of you leaning into each other as you watched the sunrise.

That was something Astarion would never tire of, how beautiful the light and sky looked at the start of the day. Part of him still couldn't believe that he was able to see it at all, after two centuries of darkness. But now here he was, sitting on a peaceful riverbank after talking the night away, almost like... like he was a person. A real person who mattered. With someone who somehow thought the same.

You sighed, your head resting on Astarion's shoulder as you watched the pink sky, "We should head back soon. Before anyone starts to worry."

Astarion nodded, his heart clenching the slightest bit when you pulled away to stand. He... didn't want this to end. Not yet. Not when he-actually now that he thought about it, he hadn't done anything in the past eight hours that he had planned. The two of you hadn't even kissed, despite the fact that you had spent the vast majority of the night wet and in your undergarments.

How in the hells did that happen?

Astarion was still trying to figure that out as you tossed his shirt and pants his way. He stood, hastily putting it on while he struggled to figure out what to say next. He was completely off his usual script, at a complete loss as you re-opened the magical waypoint.

You turned back to look at him, that same sweet smile on your face that you had been wearing the whole night, "You ready to go?"

Astarion wasn't the type to stutter, but that's where he found himself when he blurted out, "I- wait- I mean, is that it?"

You cocked your head at him with a tiny frown, one that Astarion wanted off of your face immediately, "Did you not have fun?"

"I didn't say that, but it wasn't exactly the fun that I was referring to," Astarion said as he closed the distance between you, regaining a fraction of his usual forced confidence. Why were you so good at making him feel off-kilter?

He took your hand in his, reverting back to the seduction tactics he knew as he used his other hand to tilt your chin up, "I was thinking something a little more... intimate."

"I know what you meant," You said with a little laugh, giving his hand a small squeeze, "But my way seemed just as enjoyable, don't you think?"

"Darling, that's not exactly the point I was trying to make."

"Oh, I'm aware, but it was mine," You said easily, standing on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you Astarion. It was fun, and I hope we can spend more time together like that in the future."

And just like that you were pulling away again, letting go off his hand to step into the portal, the feeling of your lips against his skin still lingering as you disappeared. Despite himself, Astarion brought his fingers up to where you kissed him, standing there like an imbecile as new feelings started to course through him. Emotions that he had no names for.

Maybe... this was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would.

[cobaltperun]

To Never See You Again

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: She was unattainable, radiating with blinding beauty that went above and beyond her appearance. And though you knew you shouldn’t, you flew too close to the Sun, hoping one day she would look at you the way you looked at her. (Set right before Scream 5)

Warning: Angst! And I don’t usually write full on angst with no happy ending, but I tried. Big spoiler, since I know some of you prefer to be warned about this, Reader dies. Also, a request, you know who you are, love you!

Masterlist

Word count: 2.2k

Growing up in Woodsboro didn’t exactly come with a lot of perks, in fact, it came with occasional Ghostface lunatics terrorizing a very specific group of people. Somehow, you didn’t care much about that, as cruel as it might have sounded you simply weren’t related to any of the victims and it’s been years since it happened the last time. You hardly even remembered all the panic and fear permeating the town, you were, after all, just a child back then. Also, you weren’t a fan of horror, despite your best friend being the biggest horror fan you knew.

You didn’t dare to try and get into horror, fearing it would make your feelings for the girl even more obvious than they already were. Because Tara Carpenter wasn’t just your best friend. She was the strongest person you knew, going through abandonment after abandonment and still finding it in her to let new people in. She was gentle, accepting of anyone who wasn’t against her or her friends, and she was fiercely loyal and protective. Willing to throw herself at anyone if it meant keeping someone she cared about safe. And you loved her, you’ve been in love with her for years, yet you never said anything, because…

Well, Tara didn’t feel the same way.

And honestly, a part of you felt like you weren’t worthy of her love.

It wasn’t anything Tara did or said, you just felt like she could do better, and that she deserved better. It wasn’t even your self-esteem, you hoped, it was more the fact that Tara deserved perfection.

So, that was where you were. Sitting in her living room with an almost completed school assignment between the two of you. She looked so focused on it you dared to look at her a bit longer than you usually did.

“Y/N?” she suddenly said your name and you jumped, embarrassed that you got caught staring, but Tara just laughed a bit. “You can tell me if I have something on my face,” she rubbed the corners of her lips, trying to find the nonexistent smudge.

“There’s nothing on your face, T,” you laughed, looking away to avoid meeting her puzzled eyes. “You just looked kinda cute,” you tried to brush it off.

Tara rolled her eyes. “You always say that,” and you did, you very much did often say that. In fact, you complimented Tara as much as you could, as much as it was acceptable for two friends. And she gave you compliments in return, but you knew there was nothing romantic in them. And there wasn’t anything particularly romantic about your compliments either, you meant them, she deserved to hear them, and you knew you would compliment her even if you weren’t in love with her.

“It’s true!” you defended yourself, turning to once again look at her and seeing that slightly mischievous look in her eyes. She was teasing you, thinking the compliment wasn’t completely serious, but more of a friends encouraging one another. You couldn’t blame her, regardless of how lovestruck you were you thought you were fairly good at hiding your feelings for her.

“Sure, it is,” she brushed it off and somehow, for whatever reason you felt compelled to just tell her everything.

“I like you, Tara,” you ignored how hot your cheeks felt, how small your voice sounded, how loud your heart was beating, pounding against your chest. You ignored all of that and waited, suddenly finding the floor between your feet to be the most interesting floor to have ever been made.

“Well, yeah, we’re friends, I like you too, Y/N,” she said, puzzled over your decision to just suddenly blurt that out.

You should have taken the way out. She was serious. She didn’t realize what you meant. You should have accepted the chance she was unknowingly giving you. But you didn’t. “As more than a friend,” you told her, because deep down you felt guilty for having these feelings for her, for threatening to ruin your friendship, and for looking at her the way a friend shouldn’t. How long would it take for you to start blurring lines, to hug her as the one you were in love with instead as your best friend.

She needed to know. She had every right to know.

“As more- oh!” she gasped as she realized what you meant.

You dared to look up, to look her in the eyes. She looked surprised, but there was no anger, no disapproval in her eyes, just acceptance and apology.

“I’m sorry, you’re important to me, but just as a friend,” she didn’t move away from you, she kept the same distance as before you confessed.

“No, I didn’t expect you to! You deserve much better than me, anyway!” you tried to tell her, to make her known it was fine, that you never expected anything from her. Sure, you hoped. Who wouldn’t? But you didn’t expect her to return your feelings.

Yet, Tara frowned, scooting a bit closer and looked you right in the eyes. Her eyes, her big, expressive dark eyes were filled with anger. “Don’t ever say that again, you hear me, Y/N? It’s not about deserving more than you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, I just never thought of you that way, you hear me?” she said it so firmly, without a hint of doubt, with so much conviction you didn’t have it in you to argue against her words. “Okay? I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, but it isn’t because of you, I swear. There is nothing wrong with you,” there were no lies, no dishonesty in her words, Tara was completely honest, and you found yourself nodding.

“Please don’t apologize, I’m the one who blurred the lines,” you weren’t trying to make her pity you, you genuinely wanted to help her as well, because she was going to feel sorry, no matter what you said, and you wanted to lessen that feeling as much as you could.

“We’re okay, Y/N, you can’t decide who you fall for,” you could tell she wanted to tell you more, but she held back and that may have broken your heart more than her rejection.

Something did shift, she was holding something back from you, and she never did that before. And you knew you had to leave, to give her space and let her think things through. “Would you look at the time, I should get going,” you lamely said and just barely noticed the sadness in Tara’s eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to tell you something, maybe to stop you, though that was wishful thinking on your part.

In the end, she just nodded, getting up almost at the same time as you did and walking you to her front door. You stood there for a bit, silently taking the night in. It was late, close to midnight. You weren’t supposed to stay at her place for this long, but working on the project took more time than either of you predicted. Finishing it might be a bit awkward, but there wasn’t much work left to do, so you’d push through it.

At least your parents were out of town, so no one was worried about you. Even if they were, they likely would have guessed you’d sleep over at Tara’s place instead of walking back home at this hour. Well, either way, they weren’t home, so they couldn’t worry.

“Bye, Y/N,” Tara told you as you walked down the stairs. You turned around and saw she was smiling softly, her bright eyes still filled with an apology or not returning your feelings.

You smiled back at her, accepting her decision completely. You weren’t owed a chance at a relationship, no one was. Heartbreak hurt, but judging by Tara’s reaction you could still stay friends, though it would probably be best to keep your distance for a bit, just to let the feelings still in your heart fade for a bit. “Bye, Tara,” you said, raising your hand to wave at her as you took a few steps back. And then you turned, walking down the road through the darkness, you glanced back and saw she was no longer there. Of course she wouldn’t be, as much as she tried to be strong for you, you knew the talk was emotional for her as well, she needed her rest.

And then, just as you turned around you caught a glimpse of a cloaked figure and a white mask and before you could even realize what was happening you felt something sharp cutting through your flesh.

You didn’t hear anything but the pounding of your heart in your ears as you reached up, your bloody hand touching the mask. You looked at the eyes, barely visible in the darkness and saw cold, almost angry gaze bearing down upon you as you collapsed to your knees and the figure of death took your life.

~X~

Stabbed.

Gone.

Dead.

You were dead and Tara couldn’t remember the last time she cried her heart out the way she did today, at your…

Fuck… how could this happen?

Maybe you could have been saved, if anyone found you in time, but you were already dead when your body was found in the pool of your blood in the early morning. Cold, alone, with the killer not even bothering to hide your body or move it from the sidewalk. You died all alone, less than quarter of a mile away from Tara’s home, and she didn’t have any idea. She didn’t dare to call you, to make sure you came back home safely, because she didn’t want to make things even more awkward, she just sent you a text, one you never even opened, and she just thought you didn’t want to open her message. She thought it was a justified reaction. She didn’t think twice, even as the dread filled her. She thought it was dread of what’s to come, of how your feelings and her rejection of them would affect your friendship.

She was no stranger to losing people. First her father, then Sam, but they were, as far as she knew, alive. You were dead, there was no hope of fixing the relationship, of making up for the time that would be lost from now on.

She lost you. And she cried so hard she nearly had to use her inhaler, she cried and sobbed until there were no tears left to cry.

It wasn’t like she suddenly realized she had feelings for you, that she loved you back, or anything like that. She didn’t. She never looked at you like that, and she wasn’t in denial. She lost a precious friend and she grieved for a friend. And when she wondered if she should have done something differently, she wasn’t thinking about her feelings, but just letting you go home that late.

Because she had the same feeling she had when Sam was about to leave, that unexplainable dread that something important was about to be ripped out of her life and that she had no control over it as she watched you leaving. And Tara hated herself for that, she hated that she didn’t act on that feeling. She didn’t want to make it awkward between you two by asking you to watch a movie, let alone spend the night because of how late it was. She just turned you down, after all. And then she came to a conclusion the dread was just her reaction to what would happen between the two of you now, and she relaxed, letting it flow through her, instead of holding it in. How foolish was she to believe that? To not insist on making sure you came back home safely?

She could never look at you the way you looked at her, but she would forever regret that her last words to you were. ‘Bye, Y/N,’ such meaningless words, small, so ordinary. And Tara feared those were the very last words you ever heard spoken to you. Thinking of them now, they were even chilling last words to hear, so innocent and not in any way sounding like the final words. She wished she could have told you something else. She wished she could have properly explained to you that her rejection didn’t mean the end of your friendship, that she cherished every moment you spent together and that you were one of her best friends, if not her best friend.

She didn’t though. She thought she’d have time. That she would let you process everything and then try and see if the friendship could be continued or if you’d prefer to keep your distance. She should have known better.

She should have known better.

She should have never left anything unsaid.

The sound of landline phone ringing in the kitchen broke her out of her thoughts and she reluctantly got up from the sofa to answer it.

[inumkii]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ idiots to lovers - yuta okkotsu x reader

bullet point scenario

genre: fluff!! idiots to lovers (obviousllyyy)

wc: 1.3k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: i figured it was better if i posted this instead of letting it sit in the dungeon (my collection of drafts that’ll never see the light of day)

okiee yuta timeee

i love annoying misconceptions and (falsely) heartbroken pining

the way i see it is that yuta strongly admires maki’s strength and resolve that, to you (who’s hopelessly pining after him), it can get mistaken as romantic ..

and it doesn't help that panda likes to be annoying about the two of them together ,,, it just all deflates your mood a little bit whenever you see them together 

and you know you have no right to be sulking about this,, maki and yuta are your friends.. it shouldn't matter if they did like each other,, it's not something you could control

but you just desperately wish that yuta could look at you with the same level of admiration that he has when he talks to maki about sparring or whatever it may be

hell, he could barely look you in the eyes

it makes you a little sad seeing everyone’s friendship with yuta develope rapidly throughout his time at jujutsu tech,, but when it comes to conversing with you, things still feel a little different 

its not like you two are merely acquaintances! you wouldn't hesitate to call okkutsu yuta a friend of yours,, but it's a simple relationship. not much complexity beyond your conversations during missions or gojo’s lessons

unfortunately for the both of you, you’re unaware of yuta’s affection for you

the reason why he doesn’t look at you with the admiration you wish for is because he can’t even look you in the eyes without getting too flustered ….

poor boy

he’s definitely gained a lot more confidence after joining jujutsu high, but it's still not enough to muster up enough courage to ask you to lunch or even have an in depth conversation without him getting too red in the face

he doesn’t know why you have this affect on him,, his previous relationship had been so easy- then again the carelessness of childhood was not a luxury he has anymore. though it was simpler, he knew he didn't have the mental capacity at such a young age to be overthinking shit like he does now

to add on, your friendship with toge has him struck with the familiar worries that you experience with maki

catching a glimpse of the spectators during his spar from the field, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he sees you seated a little too close to inumaki up on the bleachers. 

“how long have yn and toge been friends?” he questions maki in the midst of their spar as he blocks her oncoming attack

“oh those two? just as long as we all joined jujustu high” maki switches to the defensive as yuta charges forward. yuta moves to strike her but maki smirks, “though i think they oughta start dating sooner later”

her words cause yuta to freeze for a split second and she shoves him to the ground, effectively placing herself on top of him. she holds her staff to his neck, signaling her win. one point for maki

she laughs in victory before lowering her voice back to her previous volume.

“i was kidding, by the way. there’s definitely no feelings between them” she helps the defeated (and visibly embarrassed) boy off his feet, “clearly there are for the two of you, however”

she struts back toward you, panda, and toge to retrieve her water, leaving yuta a flustered mess on the ground

and in that whole instance, you hadn’t heard any of that conversation 

you had been leaned up against toge murmuring your complaints so panda, mediating the fight ahead, couldn't hear you

“they look good together” you say in self sabotaging pity

toge only shakes his head and disagrees

“okaka”

you’re sure he’s just doing this to make you feel better about yourself

“shes so pretty,, how couldnt he like her” you wail pathetically. toge is so fed up with this but its not he can just tell the other side how you felt (he would never rat you out like that though),, but hes certain yuta likes you back and that you're over analyzing him too much

he places a hand on your shoulder and waits for you to look up at him

the expression on his face tells you clearly, ‘you need to stop’

you sigh. toges right, he always is- but it still doesn’t do anything to quell your fears

and low and behold! your thoughts are interrupted by maki’s victory laugh. she was on top of him, rendering him unable to move

god you wished that was you………

you bury your head in your hands in utter frustration and groan. this is the worst feeling- you know you’re being stupid but jealousy is a disease and you’re dying over here!!

yuta swaps out with panda, who was waiting eagerly to fight the victor 

he joins you guys up on the bleachers, seating himself beside toge. he quickly notices your distressed figure

“is,, everything alrigjt?” he asks tentatively 

to his dismay, toge answers for you with a hum. this causes yuta to be a little peeved when it's him answering in your place- he tries to ignore it

you and inumaki seem way closer than you would ever be with him,,

but to yuta’s delight and your demise, toge stands up from between you (he doesn’t think he can stand to be sandwiched between the pining idiots anymore)

your blonde friend lets out a noise, motions to the line of water bottles at the bottom of the bleachers, and promptly leaves

yuta takes this opportunity to scoot himself closer to you, who’s still slumped over + wallowing away

“what were you two talking about?” he asks, trying to gauge why you’re sulking

you have to choose your words carefully. you couldn't just tell him you’re upset over something trivial like his spar with maki

“i’ve just been frustrated” you mumble vaguely

“frustrated?” he inches closer to you, trying to mimic toge’s proximity from before. he questions you with the utmost sincerity

“yeah. sorry i dont really know how to elaborate” you lift your head, deciding to stop staring holes into your shoes. you’re trying so hard to make this conversation not awkward- but your short answers don’t help your case at all.

“its alright, you dont have to talk about it if you dont want to” 

if there's one thing you love about okkotsu yuta, it was how sweet he is

for the first time in the last hour or however long you had all been out on the field, you let out a genuine smile

“thank you yuta, i appreciate you” 

his ears turn pink within a split second but nevertheless, he reciprocates your smile

the problem with conversing with you is that most of your conversations were too short

he could get so lost in your smile at times he finds himself silent, forgetting to carry on whatever you were talking to him about

this time he manages to snap himself out of it

“did you wanna hang out after practice? i mean- if you’d rather be alone right now that's fine to!” he knows he left the option to decline open but he hopes you didn't take him up on the latter,,

“that sounds nice.” you’re biting back a stupidly large grin 

neither of you notice that maki and pandas fight had already concluded or that inumaki had been gone a suspiciously large amount of time to just grab a drink of water 

makis smiling at the two of you up in your own world while toge almost sighs in exhaustion, 

“sujiko” 

(finally)

being around the two of you was quite a taxing event for them both

panda, on the other hand, is finally catching on- eyes shifting back and forth between you and yuta and his friends at the bottom of the bleachers in disbelief

it was an unspoken understanding between toge and maki that they should avoid panda becoming aware of the sprouting couple to avoid some- awkward comments, though he meant well

well, there’s no hiding it anymore with the two of you hopelessly blushing at each other + toge and maki’s shared smirks

before panda could say anything to disrupt the moment, his two friends were already dragging him off the field to avoid him opening his big mouth

“they wont notice we’ve left” maki says with a chuckle

“salmon”

[angelnumbing]

whether you like it or not, YES, obsessively reading love/your person/crush/FS/etc. tarot readings is bad for you.

even if you’re just reading them for fun (like i was), you have to really think about it. first, every reading you click on requires some kind of energetic connection with the reader. if you read/watch multiple of these things a day you’ve got a bunch of strangers all up in your energy all the time and that’s just not going to be a good thing. buying personal ones is included in this.

youtube randomly recommended me a video of a woman explaining that we as clients come to these readings because, most likely, our situations are so unfulfilling or confusing so we seek answers through tarot. this is natural imo and isn’t a sign of bad character or anything, but we have to accept that some things are meant to be a mystery to us. beyond that, a tarot reader (especially one doing PACs or collective readings) can only pick up on the energy of the querent. the other person’s energy cannot be picked up on without consent, which means that tarot readers read your energy and the way you interpret your person’s energy. this means that if you see your person as hot-and-cold and are holding onto hope for a connection that clearly isn’t working, the reader is going to tell you exactly what you’re thinking because the only way that 3rd party person’s energy can be accessed is through the footprint it leaves in your aura.

not only does this mean that — if you consume these readings often — you’re consistently getting told a false one-sided narrative, but it also inherently establishes its own reward system that keeps you coming back for me. for example, you tell yourself that your person likes you (and maybe they do!) but they’re scared of their feelings for you which is why they ghost you. when you receive a reading that says this, it affirms to you that you were right, and the reading was “accurate”. worse than that, these readings and your dependency on them can easily be used to justify clinging on to a relationship or connection that isn’t working. your person goes cold and you run to a tarot reading basically to be told that there is some hope, actually, and now instead of dealing with the difficult feelings that come with romantic disappointment and growing through that, you’re stuck in the stagnant state of waiting for reality to match up to the picture in your head. realistically, the healthiest thing for you to do is move on from this person and work on yourself.

this isn’t to say that all tarot readings are terrible, because i don’t think that at all. tarot can definitely be a great tool for self-discovery and just for getting some direction in life. i also don’t think there’s a problem with doing love readings for yourself as long as it’s not constant and obsessive.

if you find yourself looking for affirmation from these readings, you should instead shift your focus to readings about your shadow self, where you need to grow and heal, and other things like that. we cling on to these lackluster connections because of something in our past that makes disappointing people attractive to us. i know a lot of you on here are very defensive about your precious PAC readings, but the fact of the matter is that you read them because either your love life is nonexistent and you have to consume what is essentially self-insert fanfiction to cope (i’m not coming for you bc i’m in that camp) OR you do have some connection with someone but they are falling short or disappointing you in such a way that direct communication is not possible and you have to turn to an outside source for some kind of answer.

at the end of the day, if you actually care about yourself, you’re going to have to do the (very hard) work of finding security in yourself and who you are. these readings and any relationships you have or aspire to have are never going to replace that. and frankly a few of you seem to put too much weight on the meaning of these readings. i remember someone said they don’t bother to put any effort into their current relationships anymore because they “know” their current partner isn’t the one bc it doesn’t match up to what they’ve read in FS readings. at some point you need to use your common sense. the readings get hundreds of notes and thousands of views and there’s no way you can rationally justify making decisions like that based off of something meant to apply to everyone who watches and not just you specifically.

i’m making this post because i’ve stopped consuming readings like this and i actually feel so much better mentally and spiritually. they actually are fully capable of making you completely delusional as well, which in some contexts isn’t exactly a bad thing but it’s not a great state to be in when it comes to your interpersonal relationships. ultimately i hope that i’m able to at least of few other people break their pattern and kickstart a genuine healing journey.

i don’t use this app often, tbh so if you get mad in my replies you might as well take it up with god because i’m not looking and if i am looking i’m not caring at the same time. toodles!!

[cu7ie]

what do you think toman boys are like in relationships like loyal or nah

content: discussions of cheating, general relationship head canons and love language discussion towards the end.

I think Mikey doesn't cheat because he's lazy. The kinds of relationships he likes are ones of great emotional depth and the actual physical steps required to find someone suitable, hide it from you or eventually break it off is too much. Doesn't have the mental capacity for that level of espionage, the emotional strength to lie to someone's face like that. Toman Mikey does not have that dog in him, Draken has taught him too well. Bonten Mikey has no problem fucking other people however! Not a sad thought in his mind or tear in his eye, might even think about you while he's going at it and wonder if you'd notice the taste of someone else on his lips when he gets back to ya. Sanzu seems like a hopeless romantic with obsessive and possessive tendencies. I don't think he'd cheat but he also has high expectations and probably strict rules for a partner. Doesn't like overly friendly touches and certain attitudes.

Respectfully, I think Bonten Sanzu fucks other people and will laugh in your face about it. But his inclination to do it more rests solely on the idea of it bothering you; he likes making you upset and to some extent grows irritated with the idea he's so invested in you emotionally that a chunk of his pleasure is derived with tormenting you in such a way, but it's a vicious cycle... He finds a soft body to indulge in, but can't help but think of you while doing it.

Nahoya fucks man. I mean.. like I don't think he really pursues concrete relationships in the first place. He likes something ambiguous he can't put a name to, the fun of it is the attention, you know? It's the assurance of something he can come back to, because if nothing ever starts it can't end.

Souya is the complete opposite of his brother. Sometimes he can put in a lot of faith in little time, and he can turn up with the shit of the stick right - and it's the worst, because he can't help but be so genuine. He's just not a liar, doesn't have it in him really.

I think Draken is very loyal. I don't think he'd cheat like cheating on Emma with you or vice versa.

He's very reliable, he's sticking around just because he thinks it's the proper thing to do. Even if he was in love with someone else entirely, if he has an obligation to a partner he will honor that first and foremost.

I think that Baji is… questionable? It's not emotional cheating he'd participate in, I just feel like he's a simple-minded, high sex drive kinda guy. He'll feel... bad about hurting you so much, but also has trouble comprehending why it might hurt. He loves you, isn't that more important? If you don't care that he has sex with other people, y'all should be cool.

Kazutora is possessive above all. I think he considers you less and more about how he needs to keep you close to him more, and he really does like you, just works harder and not smarter.

I think takemitchy is very loyal.. but idk .... I feel like ....

He's only loyal to Hina because she's the only girl interested in him. I feel like if he had Catherine situation - like there was a girl trying to seduce him away from Hina, he'd eat some shit like that up. He's brainless. Not entirely a dick-thinker but he doesn't always use the right head you know???

Mitsuya and Chifuyu are pretty straight laced. Their dedication to people is obvious in canon relationships and I don't think much changes beyond that! I think they differ in their demonstrations of affection, however:

Mitsuya performs acts of service and is a huge gift giver, especially after he gets into design and fashion in his later years. Too often though, sometimes he can neglect a good old fashioned 'i love you' in favor of grandeur and extravagance. He hopes that in any case, you'll love the things he gives you - knowing he didn't get gifts a lot growing up, it's more important to him than you'd think.

Chifuyu is an opposite to him. He is very open with saying I love you to the point where he'll say it in front of other people and follow it up with a kiss (or six), and most regularly he can be overbearing with his PDA - forgoing gifts to emphasize spending time with you and physically being there for you.