#playlist drabbles

[humblemooncat]

For the playlist thing: 6, for U’lohi

Love an orange himbo cat

Yeeeeeeeees, Lohi my beloved himbo. He loves you too. <3

Whiplash by Black Math My playlists just chose violence today, huh?

U'lohi had paid a visit to Forgotten Springs to deliver some things to the Nunh and decided to stay the night. He settled in to his old home for a restful sleep, and awoke to a familiar voice rousing him.

"Mmmmrp... 5 more minutes..." he grumbled from under his soft covers.

"Ah ah, it's nearly sunrise, and you promised me I'd get to watch it with you today"

An orange mop of bedhead emerged from beneath the blanket, eyes blinking and bleary. "Mmh... Thancred?"

"Last I checked" he chuckled, "I was told to come fetch you, but I know you've got your morning rituals, so come on"

Lohi slid out of his bed, laying on the stone floor for a moment as he blinked up at the hyur before him. He gave a long, languid stretch before finally getting to his feet.

"Fancy a quick spar once the sun rises?"

"You know I can't say no to that" Thancred clapped his shoulder, "You'd bug me about it all day if I don't"

Lohi gave him a cheeky grin, slipping on the cloth he called a shirt and grabbing his travel pack.

"Last one to the lookout buys breakfast on the way home!" he yelled, already halfway out the door.

"Oh no you don't-"

---

Before long, Thancred found Lohi's head in his lap, looking up at the stars as they faded from view and made way for the sunrise.

"... and can we get those flaky pastries with the chocolate in them? Those are my favorite!"

"Yes, yes, just remember I don't have the deepest pockets. We can't just bring back a buffet" he sighed, ruffling Lohi's hair.

"I know! Just those few things, promise!" he looked up at Thancred, eyes glittering like an excited child before redirecting his attention entirely to the horizon as he righted himself to a sitting position. "Look! Here she comes!"

He pointed to the sands, and the warm glow of the sky beyond as the sun rose over the landscape. Watching the warmth rise only a moment before bowing his head in prayer for the day ahead.

"There. I asked her to watch our steps today and grant us safe passage back home" he jumped up to his feet, "Sparring time! Then I promise I'll go back with you"

"Alright, let's get it over with"

---

"It's been too long since we last sparred! I've learned quite a bit from my mentors since, I'm excited to show you!" he hopped from foot to foot, hands up and readied.

"I don't know, I've won the past few bouts last I recall" Thancred said, readying himself as well.

An eerily sinister cackle left U'lohi's all too relaxed form, "That'll stop today, I assure you"

"Alright, show me. First to the ground loses"

Thancred blinked but once and Lohi was gone. He felt a wind at his back and turned just fast enough to see the end of Lohi's tail curling around his back.

"Shit..."

"You did say to show you"

The match ended about as quickly as it started as Thancred was knocked clean to the ground. Lohi practically skipped over to him, helping him up.

"Lucky me you know how to pull your... kicks. Otherwise I think I'd've actually been knocked clean out" he said, grasping Lohi's forearm to pull himself up.

"I'd never hurt you, trust me. Just a good push to knock ya over" Lohi gave him a grin, "Now, about breakfast-"

Lohi's a sweet, dumb boy until he's put into combat. Then he becomes a spry, fast little shit. :3c

"I'd never hurt you, trust me" is gonna come back to haunt me come end of ARR though. Technically it's only because he's possessed. It's fine...

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

“Stop moving your fucking head,” you growl. Wriothesley sits on a bench, black compression shirt drenched in sweat after his spar in the fighting ring. There’s a cut on his head, just underneath his hairline, that you dab at with some antiseptic and a cotton pad. 

You still think that he should have called Sigewinne, just in case, but he was adamant that she didn’t need to bother over ‘something as small as this.’ Granted, he wasn’t hurt too bad— it was just the aftermath of a small accident between him and his opponent in the ring, after all. No broken bones or the like, just some bruises and scuffs. You were just worried over him.

“I’m fine, you know,” he tries to tell you again, trying to duck away from the cotton pad to look you in the eye. You scowl again, grabbing him with a hand on his collarbones, dangerously close to the base of his neck. Wriothesley immediately stills, and you resume. 

“I know.” You keep dabbing until the last of the blood is gone, and there’s just the cut left. It’s not even that deep. You doubt it’ll even scar. “Just… just let me worry for you for a little bit, would you?”

He swallows. You can almost feel the movement of it against your hand. You know of his history— of how he’s barely had anyone give a shit about him his entire life. You wonder if he’s ever had anyone patch him up or worry about him like this.

You think of a much younger, much more baby-faced Wriothesley having to bandage his own bloodied knuckles in some dark corner of the fortress of Meropide, and your heart aches. 

“Okay,” your Wriothesley finally says, voice quiet. He stares at you in a way that you cannot decipher. In a way that is softer than you’ve ever seen him look at anything before. 

Your hand transfers to his shoulder, and one of his own comes to hold it in place. You press a kiss to his nose, then either of his cheeks, then end it sweetly on his lips. 

The kiss doesn’t drag on very long— it’s quick and chaste, little more than a peck on the lips. But Wriothesley still smiles at you when you part.

“You sure you’re fine?” You ask, hand cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch the way a cat would lean into the sunlight. 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs. Turns his head. Presses a kiss to your palm, locking eyes with you the entire time.

“Okay.” You’re breathless, never breaking eye contact with him. “Okay, that’s good.”

You feel his smile against your skin, then. Tender and sweet. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing you near. His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“For patching you up?”

“For caring, baby.”

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[leyyvi]

The crisp, slightly cold air brushes your cheeks as you roll down the passenger window and tilt your head out. You glance up at the blur of streetlights that follow the wind. Your hand bends to the breeze as you poke it out from the window, waving it up and down with a long sigh.

Levi warns you to not stick it out too far and be careful. Your hum of acknowledgement makes him grumble, but he continues speeding down the empty city streets. within a reasonable speed of course, just under the limit on the sign that passes your vision.

He likes going on drives late at night, as he's told you before. Something about coasting down the road in the dead of night with all the windows down feels therapeutic. Sometimes he takes you with him, it's more fun to have you occupying the seat next to him, relaxed and staring out the window like you've never been in a city before. He mutters under his breath how you keep making these cute expressions.

His fingers tap on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song you decide to blast on the radio, even if it's not the kind he usually listens to. He's happy enough seeing your smile, stealing glances at how you mouth the lyrics to the songs silently.

You close your eyes, folding your arms over the edge of the window and leaning your chin in the crook. Levis hand always finds its way on top of your thigh, crawling over your skin the exact same way as usual. It starts with an adjustment on the center console armrest. His pinky is the first to graze your skin, then his ring finger, middle, index... Then the whole palm.

His hand stays at the top of your thigh for a few moments before he gives a squeeze. You always wonder if he's waiting for a sign of approval for his hand to be there in the first place. Though it's not like you've ever protested it.

You fall asleep like this, with the breeze on your face, drifting through your hair as the window is half rolled up. Accompanied by Levis fingers brushing along your thigh in a rhythm that almost seems to match the beat of a song on the radio.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: Intolerance, toxic religion, parental relationship, Jungkook taking off his clothes 😮‍💨🤲 very dumb reader.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on Tumblr and my first BTS one. I know, it's embarrassing. The story isn't that great, and it probably shouldn't be the first one I post here, but the characters took on a life of their own without my consent, and I've been writing this since 2022 (fuck), so here we are. Please keep in mind that English is not my first language and that the reader is extremely annoying. See you on the next chapter! Thank You.

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

I organize the things from the bazaar as I go through the accessories spread out on the table. It's a calm easy task and I've done it more than a thousand times, so even with my eyes closed the job is done masterfully. My mother is next to me, quietly, listening to music on an old radio that she refuses to throw away. It seems that, since it's a radio she got as a teenager, the object has a deep meaning for her and she doesn't even like the thought of exchanging it for something more modern. I hum along too, trying to tune my voice in some parts where the music gets harder and the notes get higher.

Usually on the weekends, every Sunday, my mother and I go to church and the bazaar after the service, to raise money and help the pastor's project. Pastor Leen is a good man and always helps everyone in need, so this semester, during these last months of the year, he has been focusing on the animals that live on the streets. Everyone in the community who goes to church participates and helps in whatever way they can, whether through donations or fundraising, like my mother and I do. That’s why we gathered some clothes and items for the church bazaar, and with the sales, we can do our part. It's exhausting, but rewarding in the end.

During the week, I study at the university in my town and work at the library, so there's not much time for rest, but I like having a busy life. Although I know that, for some people, my idea of a busy life might not seem busy at all. At twenty-one, I’m supposedly supposed to be somewhere else in the world, enjoying my youth and partying with my friends, but strangely, I never wanted that. Whether it’s because of my mother, who always instructed me not to follow that path, or because I’m just introverted, I’ve never gone to parties or had adventures that I could look back on later. The most out-of-the-ordinary thing I've ever done was drink beer when I was eighteen and regret it the next day, feeling guilty for being influenced by a friend.

I’ve never left this town. I’ve never dated. I’ve never been to a party. I haven’t done many memorable things in life. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll regret not having these experiences someday, but I’m so tied to the way I live my life that it’s hard to change, even just a little. Habits are hard to break, whether for better or worse. I’m pulled from my thoughts when the store door opens and Mrs. Jeon walks in with a smile on her face and two heavy bags in her hands. I quickly get up intending to help her, but my mother is faster.

“Good morning, Eunji,” Mrs. Jeon greets my mother, letting out a relieved sigh as the weight of one of the bags is lifted from her hands. “Good morning, Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Jeon. How has your week been?” I ask, taking the other bag from her. I peek inside and notice that it’s full of men’s clothes, judging by the size and the predominantly dark colors.

“Radiant, actually. My son arrived in town last night,” she says, her smile widening. I’m surprised because I didn’t know she had a son. Mrs. Jeon moved to town six years ago, and I don’t recall any son visiting her or her mentioning him. This is the first time she’s spoken about it, at least in front of me.

“Your son, Jungkook?” my mother asks, curious, and our neighbor nods, still beaming. “Doesn’t he live in Seoul?”

“Yes, he does. But he’s been expanding his business, and I invited him to visit, and coincidentally, he decided to open a branch here,” she explains, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. My mother instantly flashes a smile. An interested smile that I know all too well.

Of course, because I’ve never dated, my mother is always trying to set me up with someone. Not that I want her to. I never asked her to make all this effort, much less to convince the church ladies to introduce their sons just because I’m single. It’s embarrassing, as if I’m not capable of finding someone on my own without my mother’s help, but she doesn’t listen, even when I had an honest conversation with her asking her to stop trying to play Cupid.

"What kind of business?" my mother asks, and I try not to roll my eyes. For a woman of God, she worries way too much about money and status. It's a controversial topic that has led to arguments between us in the past.

"He's a tattoo artist. He owns a tattoo studio in Seoul," Mrs. Jeon explains with a proud smile, and my mother's face immediately turns serious. The charm of a potential son-in-law is lost. Of course, no one is ever perfect enough for her—or for me, in her eyes.

I love my mother. She’s strong, and many times I look up to her when making important decisions, but she judges people too harshly. Ever since she joined the church when I was younger, she’s changed. She changed her clothes, the way she speaks, and even her thoughts. I can’t even remember what she was like before, and even though all these changes were a support for her after my father passed away, some aspects of the situation still bothers me. The fact that she believes people are going to hell just for having different opinions and ideas is one of them. Of course, I don’t argue with her about it and rarely express my point of view. If she knew how I really thought, I’d be a princess locked in her room, with no peace and even less freedom than I already have at home.

"He's a tattoo artist?" my neighbor nods, not noticing the bitter tone in my mother's voice. I decide to step in, anticipating some sharp comment from the woman beside me.

"Mrs. Jeon, thank you so much for the clothes and for your help. Just today we had three customers, and the clothes you donated sold very quickly," I interject, changing the subject. The tension in my shoulders eases as my neighbor shifts her focus to the bag in my hands.

"Oh, no need to thank me. I want to do as much as I can to help the animals. I adopted a puppy last week and I’m in love!" she says, placing her hands on her cheeks with joy, and I can’t help but smile. Mrs. Jeon is one of the few older people from the church that I enjoy talking to.

"What’s his name?"

"Gureum. He’s an angel," she says, forming the small size of the puppy with her hands.

"Gureum? Don’t tell me he’s all white," I guess, laughing at the name.

"He is!" she laughs with me, jingling the keys in her hand. "Anyway, I hope we get plenty of donations this month. I can't wait to see the results of our work."

"That’s true, Misuk. This month the winter will be harsher, so we have to act more quickly this year," my mother continues, and the conversation shifts to the church project. I feel more relieved as the minutes pass and Mrs. Jeon leaves. Not because of her, of course, but because of the situation itself. My mother is very straightforward and usually says what she thinks, no matter who it hurts. I don’t want my relationship with our neighbor to be ruined just because my mother doesn’t know how to hold her tongue.

"Did you hear what she said?" Eunji asks, her eyes wide, one hand on her chest as if she’s deeply shocked. "Her son is a tattoo artist! Do you think he has those awful marks all over his body?"

"Probably, Mom," I sigh, trying to focus on the clothes Mrs. Jeon just brought. "And Mom, don’t talk like that. She’s our neighbor."

"Even so! Y/N, that only happens when parents don’t know how to properly guide their children. How can a mother, who goes to church, let her son go down such a horrible path in life?"

"We don’t know how her son lives, and it’s none of our business, Mom!" I try to keep calm as I fold a large black T-shirt, but then I remember that before organizing the items, we have to wash them, and I couldn’t be happier about that.

Usually, the clothes are washed at our house, and my mother still has to stay at the bazaar for a while longer. Honestly, I don’t want to be around her listening to how good of a mother she was just because I go to church and don’t have a tattoo on my arm. It irritates me, and it’s hard not to let her notice, but for the sake of peace, I try my best, nodding and agreeing with all the nonsense she says.

"Mom, I’m going to take all these things home and get everything ready for the bazaar, okay?" I try to force a smile, but my face feels stiff. My head is throbbing, and I can’t wait to get home. I’ve been out of my room all day, and there’s nothing more exhausting than that, at least for me. She murmurs in agreement, probably annoyed that she can't keep talking badly about Mrs. Jeon’s son, but I don’t care and just leave.

I regret it a little halfway home because the bags are heavy, and even though the distance isn’t long, it’s hard to carry all the clothes by myself. I arrive home out of breath. The sky is overcast, with dark gray clouds covering it, but I’m sweating as if I just ran a marathon. I laugh a bit at my lack of fitness, promising myself that I’ll start the morning walks I keep putting off, and I head to the laundry room to start organizing the clothes.

When I open the bag, I’m surprised by the items. Not only are they of good quality, but I’m also certain they don’t belong to Mr. Jeon. He dresses well, but not in this style. I can hardly imagine him wearing black jeans or a heavy jacket. I’m intrigued by who the owner might be, but I don’t waste time pondering it, too tired to unravel mysteries that aren’t even important. I leave the laundry room once everything is organized and head to my room, throwing myself onto the bed.

My room isn’t particularly special or different, but what I love the most about it is the bookshelf filled with books covering almost the entire wall. It was my dream from a young age to get a job and buy every book I was interested in, and luckily, that’s been possible since I started working at the library. It’s the perfect job for me, even if it’s temporary. I’m studying literature to become a teacher, and I can’t wait to start working in my dream job.

I sigh and pull my phone out of my dress pocket, too lazy to take off my clothes and go shower. I groan, placing my hands over my face, knowing there’s no escaping it after being out of the house all day. There’s no way I’m going to bed like this. Reluctantly, I get up and untie my hair, which falls in waves, heavy against my neck.

I bend down to grab the hem of my dress and start pulling it up, feeling even more tired. Today was such a long day. I can’t wait to go to bed and sleep until tomorrow. I take off my socks, lifting one foot behind the other, and as I head to the towel inside the wardrobe next to the bed, I unhook the bra that’s been bothering me all day. The relief is so immense that I let out a sigh, touching my breasts with my fingers and playing with my nipple, hardened by the cold air.

On my way to the bathroom, I stop and look at the window when I notice that the neighbor’s window—the one that had never been opened until now—is, in fact, wide open. I need a few seconds to realize that there’s someone on Mrs. Jeon’s balcony, and worse, it’s not her on the other side. It’s a man. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life.

I hide behind the bookshelf in my room, afraid that he might think I’m spying on him, but for some reason, I keep watching him with curiosity, hypnotized by the way he moves around the room and among the furniture. His dark, wavy hair falls over his face when, out of nowhere, he starts pulling his shirt over his back, taking it off lazily while focusing on the phone in his hands. He gives a small smile, almost as if he subconsciously knows the effect he’s having on me. My heart beats hard against my chest, and my breathing quickens; my mind fills with fantasy images of his pink lips and large, seemingly soft hands.

He is... gorgeous. Different. With tattoos all over his body. One of his arms is completely covered in designs, and his chest is adorned with images that I can’t quite make out. My mouth waters as my eyes roam over his strong back and shoulders. His pale skin glows under the dim light of the yellow lamp, and it’s hard to catch my breath. It’s like observing a work of art. A forbidden work of art, I know. It’s wrong. But I can’t convince my mind that I should stop. The man, still a stranger, smiles at his phone as the screen lights up his face. Unlike his body, which exudes sensuality and is intimidating, his smile is sweet and gentle, and the most charming I’ve ever seen. He tosses the phone onto the bed, unbuckling the leather belt around his waist and deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans. That’s when the trance that literally had me delirious breaks. I slam the window shut, desperate at my own madness.

What was I doing? How could I have seen a stranger stripping like a complete pervert? I feel so bad, guilty for having crossed the line and done something as wrong as this. I gulp, covering my face with my hands. I let out a tortured sigh and feel my heart racing uncontrollably. I am sweating, as if I had done a heavy workout, when in fact, I had been standing still the entire time. I peek through the gaps in my window to see the room in Mr. Jeon's house, but I can't see anything anymore and I don't have the courage to open the curtains and try to look at the man again.

It's the first time in many years that I have felt something like this. Could it be desire? I can't remember the last time I felt anything like this. I recall having a small and first crush on a boy at school, something innocent, when I didn't even know what it meant to like someone romantically or as a friend. This was, throughout my life, the only consistent experience in recent years. It scares me that suddenly I feel something different for someone, even if it's minimal. I let out a sigh and cover my face, embarrassed by my own behavior. To make things worse, I'm not even wearing clothes. I rush to the bathroom and close the door, staring at myself in the mirror. I am so dazed that even my cheeks are dark red. I close my eyes tightly and head to the shower, trying to let the water wash away my thoughts. It doesn't work. I spend the whole night gazing at my bedroom window, full of images that I can't forget or erase.

I have a normal day after the almost exhausting night. I study in the morning about different approaches with children on the autism spectrum, which I find completely interesting and complex, and then I work in the afternoon at the college library on campus. This is actually great because I can study even during my work hours with free access to all available books, which has saved my life in recent months. The first semester of classes was tough, but this second one has been terrible, with piled-up assignments and deadlines that are almost impossible to meet, at best. My life has revolved around this routine, and the ordeal of exams hasn't even started. On my way home, I stop at a convenience store to buy something to eat and bike towards my house, which, honestly, isn’t very far but is extremely tiring.

I get home exhausted, collapsing on the sofa almost immediately. My mother appears from the kitchen with a serious face and a tense expression, as if something very grave had happened.

"You won't believe who invited us to dinner." she comments, placing one hand on her hip.

"Who?" I ask, just out of courtesy. Besides not being hungry, I'm not interested in the subject, too stressed with college stuff to pay attention to my mother.

"Misuk."

"And what's the problem, Mom?" I roll my eyes. Until yesterday, my mother had no problem with our neighbor, and now she acts like the woman is forbidden or not good enough to be her friend.

"Did you forget, YN?" she asks, crossing her arms. "Her son, the one from Seoul, will be at the dinner."

I turn pale, my mouth dry. How could I have forgotten this? College has consumed all my thoughts during the day, but I would never forget that man. The man I saw through the window is Mrs. Jeon's son, I suppose. I concluded this after spending the whole night mulling over my thoughts and reliving that body and face, which I can’t even recall without blushing. I’ve already eaten at college and feel satisfied, but the first thing I do when my mother mentions the dinner is smile.

"I’ll go with you." I affirm, unsure. If my heart raced so much from a distance of Mr. Jeon's son, I can't imagine what will happen if I see him up close. But I'm so curious that I can't avoid it. I want to see him. I want to prove that everything I felt last night wasn’t just a product of my imagination tainted by romance novels.

"The truth is, I wanted to cancel the dinner."

"You didn't cancel, did you?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. My mother shakes her head, which makes me sigh with relief.

"No, but I'm curious about the guy. I want to see what he's like and make a better judgment about him. I just ask that you don’t get involved with that kind of person. He’s a tattoo artist and lives alone, so young. Who knows what he does alone in a city like Seoul." she says, and I agree with a noise in my throat.

I’m also curious about him, Mom, but not for the same reason as you. I stay silent as I go upstairs to my room. I look for some slightly nicer clothes without much expectation but I don’t have anything different from conservative or old. I feel sad for no reason and convince myself that it doesn’t matter what I choose to wear; a man like the one I saw last night will never be interested in me, no matter what I put on. I quickly shower, then, after my mom calls me from downstairs, I look at myself in the mirror, staring at the dark blue dress that goes down to just below my knees. I roll my eyes and simply go, with little enthusiasm.

My mom has a bowl with a freshly baked cake, and after saying it's for the neighbors, we head out. It’s the house next door, but the short walk feels like an eternity to me. My heart races as we approach, and I let my mom lead the way, walking ahead. She knocks on the door with three taps, and we don’t wait long before Mr. Jeon appears. He’s a man in his fifties, but very handsome and friendly, wearing a long-sleeve shirt and comfortable house slippers. He smiles at both of us, still holding the doorknob and giving us space to enter.

"Good evening, Eunji, good evening, Y/N." he greets us. I nod, a little embarrassed. Unlike Mrs. Jeon, I don’t see him often, as he is very busy with work and doesn’t attend church regularly.

"Good evening, Yejun."

"Good evening, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for having us." I smile, genuinely grateful. I truly like the couple, as every time I see them, they always treat me very well.

"What a polite girl, isn’t she?" he says to my mother in a joking tone, then looks at me kindly. "You don’t need to thank us. We love having you two here. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable."

"I brought a cake for after dinner." my mom says with a smile. "Where is Misuk? I want to give it to her."

"She’s in the kitchen, finishing organizing things. Shall we go there?"

I follow them in silence, having little to do. My mom is more accustomed to the environment, as she comes here a few times for church meetings. I take a few steps toward the kitchen when a noise on the stairs catches my attention. Then he appears, and like magic, everything I felt before resurges, ten thousand times worse. I catch my breath as I see him slowly descending the stairs. He is much taller than me and different from what I imagined, now up close.

His eyes are dark, bright and large, which strangely complements his sharp jawline. His lips are a beautiful pink that makes me run my tongue over my mouth, enchanted by their apparent softness. Pink is now my favorite color. He exudes a powerful aura with his heavy clothes and his body built like a big mountain towering over me, but when he smiles, I am captivated. His smile is sweet, friendly, and inviting, making me want to get closer. However, the thing that catches my attention the most is the eyebrow piercing. My God. What a man.

"Hello, how are you?" he says with a boyish smile, and I blush instantly. I try to maintain a mantra in my mind, repeating several times: calm down, calm down, calm down! "My name is Jungkook, are you my mother’s neighbor?"

"Y-yes." I stammer and almost instinctively close my eyes, frustrated with myself. He smiles even more, squinting his dark eyes as if he finds me amusing.

"Nice to meet you. What’s your name?" he asks with a soft voice, and I feel embarrassed for not having said my name earlier.

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you." This time I don’t stammer, but I speak so quietly that I fear he might not have heard me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. My mom talks a lot about you." he says, confirming that yes, he did hear me.

I open my mouth to try to say something, but suddenly my mother appears. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. I wanted more chances to talk and discover new things about him, but all I was managing to do was look like an idiot who hasn’t left the house in years, completely antisocial. My shoulders slump, and I follow my mother to the dining room in silence, feeling embarrassed. I can almost feel Jungkook’s presence behind me, but I don’t have the courage to turn around and glimpse his expression. I almost automatically remember him taking off his clothes, showing the tattoos that are now hidden, and I flush even more, almost choking on my own saliva.

"Good evening, Y/N!" Mrs. Jeon smiles at me, already seated at the table. I feel guilty for almost drooling over her son earlier but I smile, greeting her in the same way.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jeon. The smell of the food is delicious, as always." I say, seeing the vegetables on the table and the meat next to it that looks divine. If I hadn’t eaten earlier, I’d be attacking the food, with respect, of course.

"Always so sweet, Y/N." she smiles. "Please, have a seat. Jungkook, sit next to her." she requests. I try to not choke again, just nodding, watching the man I am incredibly attracted to sit to my right side.

His parents and my mom engage in a lively conversation, and I try to pay attention in case they ask me something, but the truth is, I can’t follow along at all. Jungkook eats in silence and occasionally answers my mother’s questions, which I’m sure are meant to gather more material for judgment when we get home, but I can’t follow any of the reasoning. Besides being handsome, polite and kind, he also smells good.

With the clothes he wears and the tattoos decorating his body, I would swear his perfume would be woody and strong, but it’s quite the opposite. His scent reminds me of spring, or nature like a field full of flowers. It’s a scent I could absorb all day. Lost in thought while I play with the fork on my plate and the cabbage kimchi I served myself, I don’t notice him coming closer to me and my ear. My whole body shivers with his breath. I try to not make it too obvious, but I think it’s in vain since I hear his soft laugh even closer to my neck.

"Do you want to go to the kitchen, Y/N?" Jungkook asks in a whisper so close that I look around just to make sure no one is watching, especially my mother, who seems to have already formed a prejudiced opinion about him.

"Why?" I ask in a whisper, confused.

"I want to ask you something." he smiles crookedly, which makes me even more disturbed. I nod, still unsure about what I’m agreeing to. He quickly stands up, and I almost instantly follow him. When we get to the kitchen, he turns around quickly, watching me attentively, crossing his arms over his chest.

"W-what do you want to ask me?" I swallow nervously.

"I was thinking whether I should talk to you about this, but after meeting you tonight, I think it’s for the best, anyway." he says with a serious face. His previously relaxed attitude changes completely, as if all the fun from earlier had drained away.

I become worried, my mind filled with questions, until something occurs to me. What if last night, somehow, he realized I was watching him? My body turns to jelly at the thought, and my heart beats faster as I look at his face. I would die, seriously. I would fall to the ground and never wake up again. My hands tremble as I wait for his question.

"Are you and my mother very close?" he asks in a whisper, this time with a weak voice, looking at his own intertwined hands. I nod in agreement, even more confused. Since Mrs. Jeon moved to my city, we’ve become something like friends, despite the significant age difference. I consider her, even if mistakenly, like a mother.

"Yes. I think we have a close relationship. Why the question?" he shifts uncomfortably. He tries to smile but can’t. I am worried but silent, waiting for his answer.

"My mother is sick, Y/N." he says quietly, with a weak voice. My eyes widen at the news. I never imagined this is what he wanted to talk to me about. From his seriousness, it seems to be something very grave. "That’s why I came to the city. She had depression years ago and last month she tried to take her own life for some reason."

"She didn’t tell anyone, I’m sure." I say as much as I can, still shaken and shocked. Mrs. Jeon seems so happy lately that I could never imagine something like this. My eyes fill with tears, but I try to contain the flood of emotions inside me, embarrassed to act this way with a previously unknown person.

"I know. I was shocked when I found out." he explains, running his fingers through his dark hair as if he were tired. "She wants to spare people from the situation, but I wish everyone could know and support her. She shouldn’t be thinking about anyone’s well-being right now, except her own. That’s why I came to Busan, to take care of her."

"I understand." I whisper with a lump in my throat. I want to take his trembling hands and assure him that everything will be okay, but I don’t have that much courage. I wish I were casual and authentic and had the ease to simply say what I’m thinking. It’s the first time that not being this way makes me upset and sad. I wish I could be someone else right now. I wish I could help more.

"I apologize for bringing this up so suddenly. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening. I’m sorry." he smiles awkwardly, puffing his cheeks, and a previously hidden dimple appears. His face turns red and I can’t help but like him even more.

"Don’t worry. Really. Thank you for telling me the truth. I want to help in any way I can. I'll try to keep her company more often."

"Thank you so much, Y/N." he smiles, with his eyes shining. "I knew it was a good idea to tell you the truth. I knew I could count on you."

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

[yeahtimesten]

a playlist for art donaldson ✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

a cute lil playlist for artie bae :3 this is what i think the vibes would be in a relationship with him. it’s a lil cutesie, cheeky, vintage, and sickeningly sweet

hello it’s me - todd rundgren think of me you know that i’d be with you if i could i'll come around to see you once in a while or if i ever need a reason to smile and spend the night if you think i should

touch tank - quinnie he’s so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry

steeeam - shelly touch me the right way baby and i’ll do it again i’ll do it again

sara smile - daryl hall & john oats when i feel cold, you warm me and when i feel i can’t go on you come and hold me it’s you and me forever

la la love you - pixies all i’m saying, pretty baby la la love you don’t mean maybe

cape cod kwassa kwassa - vampire weekend is your bed made? is your sweater on? do you wanna fuck? like you know i do

to know him is to love him - amy winehouse and i do, and i do, and i do oh, i'll be good to him, ill bring joy to him oh, everyone says there’ll come a day where ill walk alongside of him

sweet - cigarettes after sex it’s so sweet, knowing that you love me though we don’t need to say it to each other, sweet knowing that i love you, and running my fingers through your hair it’s so sweet

real love baby - father john misty i want a real love, baby there’s a world inside me got the key, just use it, just if for a minute

this must be the place - talking heads out of all those kinds of people you’ve got a face with a view i’m just an animal looking for a home and share the same space for a minute or two

i live for you - george harrison all this time my thoughts return to you give my love, that’s all i can do wait in line til i feel you inside yes it’s true, i live for you

there is a light that never goes out - the smiths take me out tonight oh, take me anywhere i don’t care, i don’t care, i don’t care

harvest moon - neil young because i’m still in love with you i wanna see you dance again because i'm still in love with you on this harvest moon

bed chem - sabrina carpenter where art thou? why not uponeth me? see it in my mind let’s fulfill the prophecy

bodyclosetomine - bones first time i met you your beauty almost made me pine now all i want is your body close to mine i swear on everything, i will do you right

our house - crosby, stills, nash, & young staring at the fire for hours and hours while i listen to you play your love songs all night long, for me, only for me

a/n - yayyyy i hope you guys fuck with this vibe!! lots of song on this list that are coming from his point of view. sara smile is definitely him when he’s had a rough day at practice or is stressed about finals or going thru insecure thoughts and he just neeeeeds you with him in bed stroking his hair ;-; or ur having a bad day and he’s just reassuring you how much he loves you and needs you and wants to see u smile

[itslynzbitxh]

. °•★•°∵ the playlist sally face would make you ∵°•☆•° .

sally face x reader playlist

i love seeing these but i feel like most don’t include enough metal, so here’s a version with the some bands sal and larry canonically listen to (based on larry’s backpack).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the first time sal heard this after he met you, he almost cried before quickly wiping his tears so that larry couldn’t see. this song reminds him of how lost he was until he met you. you truly are his better half.

this song makes him think about how intoxicating you are to him. you’re so beautiful and stunning to him. he loves every inch of you. he never quite feels like he’s good enough to deserve you, so he always finds subtle ways to ask you to reassure him.

this song reminds him of how you helped pull him out of a dark place. it reminds him of all the shit the both of you have been through. he would do it all again though if it meant being with you. he’d do anything for you in a heartbeat.

he loves screaming this in the car when he’s alone. he feels so passionately about you that it’s hard for him to put into words. his feelings for you make him feel like he could explode. “i won’t let this build up inside me” reminds him of the promise you two made to always communicate. so even when he struggles to put his thoughts and emotions into words (both good and bad), he still tries for you.

he learned this one on guitar for you. though he hated singing in front of you at first, he eventually worked up the courage. this song makes his heart swell with love for you, so he was a flustered mess when he first showed it to you, but your reassuring smile and adoring eyes quickly melted away his embarrassment.

every time things get tough in nockfell, sal asks you if you want to run away together. you always smile at him and roll your eyes, but he’s always serious. he’d drop everything for you if you asked him, but you care about him far too much to take him away from his friends and family.

he doesn’t believe in the afterlife, but this song makes him hope that it does exist just so that he will never have to be apart from you.

[haespoir]

try again: ldh.

never not, pt 2!

⨯ pairing: ex!haechan x reader

⨯ word count: 1.4k 

⨯ summary: sleeping with your ex wasn't the best idea when you're too much of a coward to face him after. thankfully, haechan's anger seems to be enough courage for the both of you.

⨯ warnings: uhmmm no content warnings that i can think of... fluff n angst is all i've got.. haechan is desperate and reader gives in easily... just like me fr

⨯ playlist: try again, jaehyun / clementine, grantperez / wayo, bang yedam / universe, thuy 

⨯ extra content: part one

⨯ a/n: finally... part two is here!!! i hope you guys enjoy it.. i wanted to include more angst... but i couldn't do it. feedback is always greatly appreciated 🩵

. . .

Waking up to an empty bed has Haechan livid, like absolutely enraged. No one could calm the male down, not that they even wanted to try. It was an unspoken rule to just let Haechan feel his emotions; the male felt everything so intensely that it was useless to even attempt to help. 

He couldn’t believe it. If there weren’t bruises scattered along his neck, he would have believed it was some horribly fucked up dream. It was so cruel of you to leave him like this. Even if he had more than a few drinks the night before, he was honest and true in his intentions of wanting to talk. Maybe somewhere along the way the execution was messed up, but he was determined. 

Which is why he gives himself time to cool off. Barging into your apartment when he was seeing red was not a wise decision, he knew that much at least. Haechan was not the same immature kid he was when you guys began dating, and he wanted to prove that to you. 

He did. 

He really did. 

But old habits die hard. 

haechan [1:05 pm]: i gave you three hours since i’ve woken up  haechan [1:05 pm]: answer the damn phone  haechan [1:05 pm]: you’re not getting off the hook that easily haechan [1:30 pm]: don’t leave me on read  haechan [1:30 pm]: i know where you live  you [1:31 pm]: is that a threat?  haechan [1:32 pm]: it doesn’t have to be  haechan [1:32 pm]: talk to me haechan [1:32 pm]: please  you [1:36 pm]: tomorrow  haechan [1:39 pm]: not a fucking chance  haechan [1:40 pm]: i'm coming over you [1:50 pm]: the code is the same

You weren’t sure how you were going to prepare for this one. The walk of shame out of Haechan’s room was already enough emotional torment for the day. You weren’t ready to face him. You couldn’t think of a single excuse, and you knew Haechan was ready to eat you alive. 

Before you can even stop it, the tears begin to pool. You don’t even attempt to fight it as you sit on your couch, the tears rapidly decorating your cheeks. How did you tell your first love that you were a coward? How did you tell him that you loved him so intensely it scared you? At some point during your first year of college, you had begun to spiral when every icebreaker in a class involved Haechan. 

What do you like doing? 

Hmm, you usually watched your boyfriend's game with his friends.

Who’s your closest friend? 

Oh easy, Haechan. 

Girls night? 

Sorry, you were hanging out with Haechan. 

Being so dependent on him was terrifying, but you knew that you couldn’t stop. So you had to cut him off; there were probably better ways to go about it, but you didn’t give it much thought. 

It was so unfair to him. 

You can’t even begin to fall down that rabbit hole because there’s a sudden pressure on the couch next to you. Haechan was faster than you thought; in fact, it was probably a record speed for Haechan to arrive somewhere. He was someone who enjoyed being fashionably late, anything to make a grand entrance. However, for once, he decides to enter quietly. After all, the fact that the code to your apartment was still his birthday was something that he hoped had more meaning than just being a memorable set of numbers. 

“Why are you crying?” You flinch visibly at his tone. You remind yourself that you did this to yourself. Haechan had months of pent-up frustration, and you were prepared to take the entire thing. 

That was a lie, by the way. 

Because you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. “Do you want a snack? I bought some clementines recently.” You’re deflecting; you both know it. Without giving him a chance to even reply, you rush to the kitchenette in your studio apartment. Once you’re far enough, you steal a glance at Haechan. 

Seeing him spread on your couch like that squeezed your heart in ways you could not describe. He looked like he belonged there, like there was no place in the world better than your couch in your small apartment for him to be. Even now when you feared that this would turn into a screaming match and that you both would be left with a hurting heart once again, you knew that you would always love the man who sat in your living room. 

He was your universe, your everything. The fact that two years had gone by did not change the connection between you two. It was like you had never left his side; you were his perfect puzzle piece. 

And you prayed, as you gathered a few clementines and a plate, that you hadn’t ruined it completely. 

Once you’re seated next to him again, you allow yourself the small distraction of peeling the citrus for him. Without realizing it, you’re both sitting in silence; you’re peeling the small fruit and handing each piece to Haechan. It’s like you’ve fallen into a familiar routine. He takes each piece of fruit without much thought, savoring the tart flavor. He swears it tastes best when you’re peeling it for him, even going as far as to remove the pith for him. He always complained that the small strings were too bitter. Someone as sweet as him shouldn’t be eating it, you used to say. 

Unknowingly, Haechan’s anger seems to disappear as the nostalgia creeping through his body appears. After all, he was always him when he was with you. 

“Why did you do it?” His voice is small when he speaks as if eating had drained him of all the anger coursing through his veins. 

“I had to. You consumed my every waking thought,” you reply, feeling the tears beginning to well up. “It’s such a shitty excuse, I know. But I should not be in my general ed classes thinking of marrying my high school sweetheart.” Your attempt at a joke is poor because it’s true. That was something you both knew; there were many nights where you two had laid in his bed, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you discussed married life. 

But when you realized just how deep you were, you became scared. Terrified. It was so overwhelming to be in love with someone like Donghyuck. The fear of the unknown had beaten you down. 

“That’s so unfair, and you know it,” he says in disbelief. So he was right last night. “I had spent so many months thinking I did something wrong; that there was something wrong with me. You made me think I was unlovable.” 

Your heart breaks into a million pieces at his words. Had you done that to him? How could he even look at you right now? 

“Oh, Hyuck,” you sniffled, letting his nickname slip into your vocabulary as if it had never left. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Your hands are cupping his face, wiping the tears that spilled from his eyes. Your fingers smelled of citrus as you wiped his tears. At that moment, your love was an offering of your soul and sincerity, an act that spoke volumes to him. “Forgive me,” it declared, “I love you so dearly.” 

“That has never been the case. I don’t think there’s a single person who hasn’t fallen in love with you at least once in their life.” You can only hope your sincerity reaches him.  

“Well, there’s Renjun…” You roll your eyes at his attempt to be humorous, feeling a bit better knowing that whatever was going on in his head wasn’t bad enough for him to not crack a joke. 

Without a word, Haechan is wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his head into your shoulder. “What about you?” he murmurs. “How many times have you fallen in love with me?” 

You chew your lip, not fighting your instinct when your hands go to his hair. “I don’t think I could count,” you say. “I fall in love with you every day.” 

“Even now?” 

You hum, pressing a small kiss to the crown of his head. “Even now.” 

That seems to satisfy him. Quickly, he’s pushing onto the couch, the plate of citrus quickly forgotten as he cuddles into your side. “We’ll be alright, right?” It’s a question, but you think it’s more for him than it is for you. You hum again, intertwining your fingers with his. “I want to try again.” 

This time you don’t fight it. After all, you were his clementine. His inevitable lover. 

[ink-n-shadow]

[ DEMON!GHOST PLAYLIST ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where it's a playlist dedicated to our favorite demon but it's mostly just sleep token songs

𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

𝜗𝜚 call me little sunshine — ghost 𝜗𝜚 rain — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 (don’t fear) the reaper — blue öyster cult 𝜗𝜚 give — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 mary on a cross — ghost 𝜗𝜚 sugar — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 about a girl — nirvana 𝜗𝜚 chokehold — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 the hand that feeds — nine inch nails 𝜗𝜚 bite marks — ari abdul 𝜗𝜚 alkaline — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 closer — nine inch nails 𝜗𝜚 descending — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 dumb — nirvana 𝜗𝜚 granite — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 jericho — sleep token 𝜗𝜚 mummy dust — ghost 𝜗𝜚 the summoning — sleep token

[yuwuta]

peds surgeon yuuta??? u cant say things like that i need to jump. the cartoons, the glasses, of course his freaky ass would have a thing for u calling him doctor okkotsu i need to die id wanna tease him sm and be all over him but i cant think of anything if its in a hospital how did the greys anatomy ppl made it work?

the grey’s doctors were FREAKS LMFAOO bc there is not space to be doing all that in the on call rooms…. honestly yuuta is probably too busy to even try anything with you in the hospital 90% of the time… he’s either in surgery or buried in the research library or falling asleep standing up 😭 sometimes you two pass each other in an empty stairwell and have time for a kiss or two, but never more than that (also because yuuta has very little self-restraint when it comes to you… if he allowed himself more than that, then it would be much harder to stop…) 

sometimes the two of you will fall asleep in the same on call room. yuuta will page you there and by the time you arrive he’s already half asleep, it’s probably his only nap in the last 24 hours, so you do your best not to wake wake him when you cuddle up next to him. you get a few hours of bliss in his arms before his pager is waking the both of you up, and he’s got to scurry downstairs to the peds floor and in his hurry he doesn’t realize he’s snagged your lab coat instead of his own, and it’s only when he’s haphazardly slipped it on and the arms are too short and the shoulders are too tight that he figures it out. it’s too late by then, because gojo is the attending on this case which means he doesn’t miss anything, which means he’s the first to giggle and tease, poking at your name embroidered above the breast pocket, “oh? i didn’t know the two of you got married already! oh and you took her last name, how noble, yuuta!~” 

[humblemooncat]

9 for the music meme!

Hi friend, thank you for the number! <3

Looks like we've got sweet baby Rhala this time! Enjoy~

Saturn by Sleeping At Last I'm so sorry for this one

Tucked away from the ice and snow, the two lay in a warm bed, recounting stories until sleep took them.

"You should have seen it. A whole other world, ripe for exploration!" Rhala exclaimed, hushed though he may have been, "And the flora, gods it was so stunning! I just wanted to while away my days studying it all!"

"It must have been a wonderful adventure, my dear!" Haurchefant mimicked his hushed excitement, "A whole other world, who could have known!"

Rhala softly chuckled, "It wasn't all fantastic, but the fantastic things were well worth remembering"

"They always are. Especially if they brought a smile to that beautiful face of yours" Haurchefant reached out to stroke his cheek, "I wish I could have been there to experience them with you"

A sudden rush of icy cold wind cut a path across the same cheek, the warm blanket below him giving way to partially-melted snow.

"As do I, my dearest..."

"As do I..."

HI HELLO NOT ME SOBBING TRYING TO GET THE LAST SHOTS AFTER NOT VISITING FOR A WHILE (WITH THIS SONG ON LOOP) AND FUCKIN' FRANCEL MATERIALIZES AND GIVES HIM A PRAYER BEFORE TURNING TO ME AND SAYING "It never gets any easier, does it?"

I sat there in silence after he left for like 5 minutes before I was okay enough to pose.

Fuck.

No buddy, it sure does not.

After the events of Heavensward, Rhala often comes to visit Haurchefant's grave to tell him of his adventures, bringing with him a bouquet with flowers native to where he traveled.

And there are times he falls asleep there, just for a while. And he dreams of a lifetime where they could be together again...

Unlike Ki'to, having had other people he's fallen in love with. Haurchefant was the only one with whom Rhala let down his guard since his time in Sharlayan, and when he died (and after Rhala passed out from using up most his aether trying to revive him) he has not found someone with whom he'd open up to since.

There is a tentative peek from behind the walls with Raha on occasion. But that will take a lot of time.

[th30ra3k3n]

looking at you makes me stupid.

[madaqueue]

playlists

what a waste | "army dreamers" x kate bush

synopsis: on what would have been his twentieth birthday, you visit geto's grave

pairing: suguru geto x reader

themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. death/loss.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: here's some angst bc i've been in a mood for the past few days and am allergic to being happy!

The grass is damp under your skin, the rain from this morning clinging to your clothes, the smell of wet earth lingering despite the absence of clouds in the sky. This is the closest it’s gotten to raining on this day in years, what would be a sign of late winter opening into spring, but today it just feels dreary and cold.

Sighing, you place the bouquet of lilacs - his favorites - onto the stone, careful to not cover the plaque adorning the granite. At this point you could recite it in its entirety without needing to see it, the words burned into your mind from the countless days you spent reading and rereading it, hoping that the shape of the characters would finally make it sink in.

Suguru Geto

Cherished and loved.

The epitaph still feels halfhearted, empty. Even though you and Satoru spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, everything you came up with felt hollow, unable to capture his essence. You wanted to do him justice, but you just couldn’t; he’s more than a plot of land and some words engraved in stone.

Of course, it’s a moot point: the grave is empty, anyways. After the fight against Toji, Shoko had to completely destroy his body, the risk of it being used maliciously too great. A shudder runs down your spine as you picture it, the cruelty of using your best friend’s corpse for something malevolent.

Would he notice? Would it bother him to know what had happened to his flesh? What makes a person, anyways; is it the body, or is it something else? You hope he doesn’t mind what had to happen to him after his heart quieted and his breathing stilled.

Are you at peace, Suguru?

You can’t help but wonder if, after everything, death brought him a respite from the pain he endured while alive. You knew the nature of his cursed technique, the necessary consumption of evil; in absorbing it, did it make him, too, evil? Was he plagued by the darkness he was destined to destroy?

You hope not. Despite the wickedness he witnessed, he nevertheless dreamed, hoping for a brighter future.

–

“What did you wanna be when you were a kid?” you ask through a mouthful of ramen.

Suguru sits across from you in the booth, forearms resting on the table as he eats his lunch. “What do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“What did you want for a job? There’s no way you wanted to be a sorcerer,” you chuckle. “Like, I wanted to be one of those people who makes the cool brick patterns along sidewalks.”

He holds back a laugh at your answer. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I ever really thought about it.” He pauses, taking another bite of his food. “But I guess if I had to pick, probably a musician or something, maybe guitar, I always liked how they could make something sound beautiful with just their hands,” he muses softly.

“I could totally see you on a sick guitar,” you grin.

“Yeah, but I got my cursed technique too early. I never really got a chance to do anything but this,” he shrugs. “Maybe in another life.”

“Maybe,” you smile.

–

Now, the guitar you picked out for him, an acoustic one crafted in dark wood, sits in the back of your closet collecting dust. You were supposed to give it to him for his birthday. He was supposed to play it. He was supposed to be here, be alive, be celebrating with you.

Pain shoots up your palm as you look down, realizing your hands have been clenched into fists, your nails beginning to draw blood. Shaking out your arms you take in an uneven breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself.

All the things he never got to do.

“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper to yourself, placing a bloodied hand over the grass covering his grave.

He should be here. He never even got to turn twenty, never got to have kids or the family he wanted, hell, he was just a kid himself when he died. Just a fucking kid.

–

“That…that can’t be right,” you stammer. “There’s no way.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru places a hand on your back, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I - fuck - I couldn’t save him. I was too late.”

“No, no, no, no,” you begin to spiral, gaze rapidly shifting over the ground as you process his words.

Suguru was dead. Killed by a man named Toji Fushiguro, trying to protect the Star Plasma Vessel, the one who was supposed to assimilate with Master Tengen.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened,” Satoru chokes out, “But…I saw his body. He’s gone.”

A scream echoes down the corridor - was it yours? Everything feels far away as Gojo wraps his arms around you, sobs racking your body as you cry into one another.

–

Shaking your head, you wipe the tears that have begun to fall as you remember the day you lost him. Despite the years that have passed, you remember it like it was yesterday, the way the setting sun covered you and Satoru as the night air came in, unable to move from that spot as you wept together.

The sickest fucking part was that it didn’t even matter.

When Riko Amanai, the Vessel, was found dead, they just got a replacement, another body to stand in for Master Tengen’s needs. They told Suguru to protect her with his life and he did, but ultimately the loss of hers was inconsequential to the upkeep of Jujutsu society; just as one flower died they plucked another.

But they couldn’t regrow Suguru’s soul.

–

Four men.

That’s how many it took to carry his body from the basement of Jujutsu High. You watched in silence as they passed you, unspeaking, unwavering, unbothered as they bore his weight.

It feels wrong, somehow, like he should be heavier. He always had this gravitational pull, this universe-sized soul that drew everything to him - shouldn’t they be able to feel that?

How heavy is a body? How heavy is the grief it carries?

–

“Hey,” a voice pulls you back to the present, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky as you ground yourself, idly tugging at the dirt beneath you. “I’m glad to see you,” Satoru greets warmly as he walks across the graveyard towards you.

Since the last time you saw him he’s aged, the creases around his eyes deeper than a twenty-year-old’s should be, an air of sadness clinging to him like wet clothes after being caught in the rain.

“You too,” you smile as he sits next to you in the damp grass.

Neither of you explicitly make plans to see each other here every year, yet you both tacitly know you wouldn’t miss this, the annual reconvening one you simultaneously cherish and dread. Suguru deserves to be celebrated, but it’s also a reminder of the time he didn’t get, the birthdays cut short when his life was stolen from him.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, content without speaking as a cool breeze picks up, dusk settling in.

“He should be here,” Satoru mutters, his knees tucked up to his chest.

“I know,” you murmur as you lay on your back, gaze unfocused on the darkening sky above you.

Another momentary pause falls between you.

“Did you love him?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully. “Did you?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Satoru?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think that was enough, that we loved him?”

He tilts his head to look down at the grave that separates you, the lilacs you brought now lightly covered in a layer of dew. Sighing, he brushes away the tears that had been forming along his lash line. “I hope so.”

“I hope so, too.”

He reaches an arm out to you, holding your hand in his as you both place your empty palms onto the dirt.

“Happy birthday, Suguru,” you whisper.

[teastainedprose]

Homelander x fem!reader

Reader making a mix tape for Homelander and explaining the symbolism of making a mix tape

"You-" Homelander's voice cracks as he holds the cassette up for inspection. "You made this for me?" "Yeah, I just thought you might like some of these songs and I know the cabin has an old cassette player, so I just thought..." You trail off, cheeks turning brighter the longer you stand there. Homelander is staring at the tape, held between forefinger and thumb. He's blinking rapidly. "You don't have to listen to it, or whatever-" You start again, nerves putting a small quaver in your voice. It's stupid, is left unsaid but you think it all the same. Previous partners have said as much. "No, no. This is a cassette tape. You even decorated it." He flips the cassette over, taking in the designs across the label and the extra stickers. Lots of stars and stripes. Campey and cute. "You took the time to use this old tech for me?" Finally, Homelander's eyes settle on your face. "Ah, yeah. I just wanted to make you something. It- It wasn't so hard. There's software that makes mixing tracks easy and transferring it to a cassette only takes the proper wiring," You go on in a rush, eager to explain that tidbit from your hobby now that Homelander is watching you with a bit of wonder. He doesn't say thank you aloud. That's not his way. Instead, Homelander tugs you close to nuzzle his nose against your own before kissing you.

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: 626 words, seungcheol x reader, angst, infidelity, break ups

‘no, i won’t do it’ seungcheol stands in front of the door, blocking your only exit ‘i won’t break up, i refuse’

you’re so tired ‘get out of the way’ you say weakly, just wanting to go back home.

‘please’ his voice falters ‘please baby, it was just one kiss. one. it meant absolutely nothing. please you have to believe me’ he’s crying now, gripping your shoulder as he shakes you desperately.

just one kiss — the story of just one kiss with famous k-pop idol had started as another post on an anonymous gossip site. user cherry0912 had written she’d kissed celebrity S at a nightclub.

“when he realised we were fans he paid for all our drinks!!! and then somehow we started dancing together and then…we kissed. everyone, kissing a celebrity really is everything you can imagine”

first brushed off as a delusional fan, the details in every follow up post had started to get very specific; then she posted that picture — the one your friend takes as proof when you’re kissing a famous idol in a club. everything was blurry and dim and most said you couldn’t tell it was him but you knew immediately. call it a woman’s intuition. guilt-ridden, he had confessed thinking you would forgive him. after all, it was just one kiss. the only silver lining — if you could even call it that — was your relationship was not public. so at least you’d been spared that humiliation.

‘let me go’ he loosens his grip, dropping his hands ‘and get out of my way’

seungcheol knows, he knows once you walk out that door he’ll never see you again.

‘please don’t do this’

your fatigue is suddenly consumed by a fit of rage ‘YOU DID THIS!’ you scream ‘YOU! you ruined it. not me. how could you-’ your voice breaks ‘how could you do this to me’ you break down, falling to the floor and start crying, wailing like a little kid who doesn’t know how else to express their pain.

you cover your face with your hands and cry and cry until seungcheol slides down, pulling you into a familiar hug. you let him. it feels so safe and reassuring in his arms that you forget for a second that he’s the one causing you this pain.

‘i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything’ he holds you so tight, trying to bridge the irreparable gap between you both. then he pulls away, holding your face in his hands, his eyes filled with a sudden resolve ‘i’ll fix it. i can fix it, i promise. just- just don’t leave me’ he looks at you hopefully, desperate to get through to you. it doesn’t work, you just can’t look at him the same anymore. you start to stand up as he pulls you back down ‘no, no, no, don’t go. let’s talk about it’

‘there’s nothing left to talk about’ it was true. everything to say had already been said. you’d been arguing for hours now, going through all the motions — the screaming, the crying, the silence. ‘you hurt me, you intentionally hurt me’ you shake your head ‘i have nothing left to say to someone who could that me’

‘but, i- i don’t want to break up’ it sounds more like he’s telling him that.

‘well’ you push him off you, not able to stand his touch anymore ‘it’s not just up to you’ and get up. he just sits there, staring at nothing as you walk past him and head to the door. your hand shakes as you grab the handle.

‘please don’t leave me’ you hear his voice, soft and sincere ‘don’t leave..’ it almost pulls you back. the door clicks open and without even turning around to look at him one last time, you walk out.

‘please..’ he pleads to no one, realising what has just happened. he turns around, watching the door shut slowly, knowing your chapter too has closed with it.

[reticenceofladyeva]

hoax viii (my winless fight)

Chief Hakoda is everything Iroh expected him to be. A tall, broad man, he limps toward the snapping shirshu with his spear extended. His men walk behind him, cautiously.

Iroh slides down the side of the beast and hits the ground with a thud. He turns to Jun, instructing her to meet his nearest contact for her pay and slipping a lotus tile into her palm. She isn't thrilled about it, that much is clear, but she leaves this old man to face the Water Tribe.

Iroh bows. He hopes that this means his grandson is with family, but history has taught him to temper his optimism. "Hello, Chief Hakoda," he says.

The Chief narrows his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

Iroh chuckles. "You and your fleet of southern nonbenders are famous in these parts. I am hoping you can help me."

Lowering his spear (but not his guard), the Chief looks him up and down. Iroh knows he passes well for an Earth Kingdom man, much better than Zuko with his unmistakably bright eyes, but Chief Hakoda is a well-traveled man. Just the same, the other man is also a fair one. "What kind of help are you looking for?"

Iroh takes a deep breath, careful to limit the details of his mission as much as possible. "My grandson and his parents went missing from our camp while I was away several weeks ago. The trail led here. I was hoping I might rejoin them."

Although the Chief looks as though he's about to reply, he doesn't have the opportunity. A woman, long, wavy brown hair blown about her face by the wind, has caught sight of him, and then she's running, crying, "Uncle!" And then Iroh has his arms full of Katara, who hugs him so tightly he can't breathe, and he squeezes her back until she gasps for air. "Uncle Mushi," she says, pulling back and giving him a warning look. "I thought we'd never see you again."

Resting his hands on her shoulders, Iroh looks into her eyes. "I am glad to see you are unharmed, Katara. Where are your boys?"

Unexpectedly, Katara's face twists into a snarl. "Lee decided to go home," she says, and Iroh feels like he's taken a punch to the gut. "Kova is napping. He'll be up soon."

He pulls her back and hugs her again, this time more gently. "I am sorry, Katara," he whispers.

"I'm sorry too," she replies, and though her voice is broken, he can feel the slow simmer of fury bubbling underneath.

He feels it in himself, too.

[yeahtimesten]

a playlist for patrick zweig ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

i made a playlist thinking about this man and idk this is what i think it would be like… to be with him i guess? this playlist is sexy, sweet, angsty, passionate. i hope yall see the vision…. enjoy :3

fall in love - phantogram love it was enough to recognize to see i was the reason you feel sick inside

washing machine heart - mitski baby, will you kiss me already? and toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart baby, bang it up inside

always forever - cults you know you’ve got me in your pocket you don’t just have to wait around you know i’ll keep you in my locket just come here and we can settle down

juna - clairo why would i let you in? but i think again i don’t even try, i don’t have to think with you there’s no pretending you know me

kingston - faye webster it’s the thought of you that slightly scares me but it takes my breath away, forget what i was gonna say the day that i met you i started dreaming now i write em down if i remember in the morning time

step on me - the cardigans oh, i think you’re holding this heart of mine (my heart is yours) squeeze it apart, that’s fine

roi - videoclub, adéle castillon, mattyeux (english translation of lyrics) the lasting days, fleeing the night, i traverse your skin, i traverse the city the sweet smoke from your mouth leaves, escapes day by day when i reign in the night, im alone with my sins

air supply - sweet trip don’t make me smile if you don’t intend to only make me try if you can pretend to

everybody here wants you - jeff buckley and our eyes locked in downcast love i sit here proud even now you’re undressed in your dreams with me oh, i’m only here in this moment i know everybody here wants you

trash magic - lana del rey boy, you wanna go to my motel, honey? boy, you wanna hold me down, tell me that you love me? boy, you know that i have really never loved nobody but you?

perfect girl - marreux you’re such a strange girl the way you look like you do you’re such a strange girl i want to be with you

glory box - portishead just give me a reason to love you give me a reason to be a woman i just wanna be a woman

talk show host - radiohead you want me? fucking come on and break the door down i’m ready

margaret - lana del rey (ft. the bleachers) if you’re asking yourself, “how do you know?” then that’s your answer, your answer is no you gotta run, gotta run, run, run, run, like your heads on fire

heart to heart - mac demarco to the days we spent together to all the times we played a part in each others lives heart to heart

i’m your man - leonard cohen if you want a father for your child or only want to walk with me another mile across the sand i’m your man if you want a lover i’ll do anything you ask me to and if you want another kind of love i’ll wear another mask for you

i dunno what i’m doing on this account lol, i watched the movie super late and have been using my main acc to read fics and snoop in the fandom but i made this playlist and really needed to share it with lyrics so here!!! perhaps, if you want explanations or little blurbs based on any of these songs or others, send me an ask and maybe i’ll do something with them!!!

i’m also not sure if posts like this are interesting at all, but i’m also putting together playlists for tashi and art atm!!!