#that was the most AWKWARD conclusion i have ever written for a post but i love it. and also i had no other idea how to end it...

[aspaceinthecosmos]

Are you a Neptune enjoyer? well I've got some news that will ruin your day! (:

(yes, this news is a couple weeks old now, I had this sitting in my drafts and forgot about it)

We all know Neptune. the beautiful dark blue, windy planet, the farthest planet in our solar system, discovered by math, etc. etc.

[ID in alt]

right?

WRONG.

turns out, when voyager 2 imaged Neptune, the photos were processed in false color to better show the clouds in its atmosphere. While astronomers at the time all knew about this color change, throughout the 34 years since then, the sentiment got lost. Neptune was depicted as dark blue in everything from children's books to university books, and everyone took it as fact that Neptune was, in fact, that shade of blue. But it isn't.

In true color, Neptune is a much, much lighter blue, coming in at only a few shades darker than Uranus (cursed, i know).

Above is the false color image compared to the true color image, while below is true color Neptune compared to true color Uranus [IDs in alt]

anyways I hoped you enjoyed this session of cursed space news with jupiter! smash that like button and subscribe for more *awkward thumbs up*

[rehmes]

Nothing Solitary about Us : ⋆༘ Wriothesley / reader | headcannons . oneshot

‗ content / trigger warning: bigger story / reader background not fully mentioned, reader is a refugee, Wriothesley swooning (in his own way), thoughts of self doubt, fluff/angst?? Like a weird mixture of the two, not beta read, we die like Wriothesley's adoptive parents. ‗word count: 4k ‗ author's note: If you saw when I accidentally posted this the first time . . . no you didn't! Apologies if it's ooc, a little long, or has errors in spelling. English isn't my first language and this is the first time I've written for Wriothesley! Any suggestions to improve will be much appreciated! :D

Wriothesley could still remember the day he saw you, the day that you had come into the Fortress after, purposefully, committing a crime to gain some sort of refugee status; Why you thought to come to a prison, of all places, to receive such a thing baffled him the most. And it had baffled him for the longest time until you had told him why:

You and The Duke first met when The Duke wasn’t even The Duke; Meeting as cellmates in the Fortress, having been put in the same age group for practically everything that the Fortress had to offer at that time. Which wasn't a lot, and with Wrothesley’s lack of enthusiasm to even look in your direction, it made everything a lot more insufferable. But, Wriothesley didn’t know that; He was just intent on staying out of your way and not causing any more trouble for himself. Likewise, the thought of making friends with you did creep into his mind but so did the doubts that you might hate him after you figured out why he was sentenced here. So, it took a lot for Wriothesley and you to actually begin talking, despite being paired for a lot of the backbreaking activities. And, Wriothesley does still remember that day, too: It was after a tiring shift, where you were both thoroughly whipped out and about to crash at the dinner tables. You both had used coupons to buy food, and didn’t even have the energy to sit at different tables, muchless to open the containers containing your dinner. It felt as though every muscle in your bodies had been torn, limb from limb, muscle from tissue and bone, it was excruciating… and you were about sure you could appeal to the Iudex about this being considered some sort of child labor. Maybe even murder if they kept pushing you both like this. Luckily, you guessed, Wriothesley looked a little better in shape than you did, but he was not far lagging behind. With shaking hands he reached out to open his dinner for the night, to only pause and stare down in horror at what was on his tray. It made you nervous to even peek into yours, seeing the way Wriothesley’s face contorted; A corner of his left eye tightening, his eyebrows furrowing down to create visible creases along his forehead, and a scowl you’ve only ever seen when someone bothered him. A look of pure disgust.

Yet, you still checked yours away. You didn’t know that Wriothesley had glanced up to see if you had gotten the same horror as he did, and by some god awful prank (or pure disluck) you also had the conglomeration on your plate. Some weird, mysterious meat that sat on the plate, sometimes twitching like it was still mooing, sometimes resting as meat should rest. Equally unappetizing and making your hunger even more apparent, as you were tempted to taste the horrific creation that came out of that unsanitized kitchen. “You know,” Your voice caught Wriothesley's attention, as his had drifted down to the plate of food in front of him. His eyes shot up and barely met yours, “it could be worse?” You shrugged your shoulders in a joking way, giving Wriothesley an awkward look paired with an even awkwarder smile. He was a bit baffled at your conclusion, “It could be worse?” He questioned, calm and steady, confused and a bit curious on where you were going to go with such a statement.

In his fatigue, he had broken the one rule he had set for himself in this place; Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make yourself known, don’t make any friends. In his fatigue he didn’t believe answering you would be so wrong nor did he believe that you two would ever speak again after his point, so why not entertain you… and himself.

“At least they didn’t puke on our plate?” The joke fell from your lips with the weakest chuckle you could muster. Your eyes drooped and the pain was evident in the way your eyes shined ever so less than normal. Wriothesley was about to respond, yet you managed to get at it before him; “You know, where I came from, if you didn’t have a fire you had to eat your fish cold! Like, ice cold. And there was nothing you could do about it… other descale the thing and pray you didn’t just eat your last meal.” “Is that right?” Wriothesley cocked an eyebrow up, unsure where you had come from yet didn’t enjoy the images that came into his head. Well, one was particularly funny and it was the thought of you trying to bite into a frozen fish and hurting your teeth. Not like he wanted that to happen, maybe. “Well, don’t give the kitchen staff any ideas or maybe they’ll just import that from your weird homeland.” It had been a while since Wriothesley had laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly alongside you. The conversation was a ridiculous one, especially when first conversations usually went along the lines of introducing yourselves to each other. Yet, oddly to Wriothesley, it felt about right. And from that day, Wriothesley was sure he didn’t know of a day where he didn’t talk to you. Even if it started with a small greeting in the hallway or pointers on how to do a job more efficiently, small conversation gradually turned into the two of you chatting for hours eating lunch or dinner and even trying to talk after lights out. It finally felt like you had escaped your past and had a friend in a place you named your refuge, and Wriothesley finally felt like he had met someone (though this feeling was slow and gradually coming) that would accept him, despite his past doings.

Wriothesley interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the table, and nestled his chin on the finger net he had made. His eyes were softer than usual, yet that piercing blue. Back then, when you two had simply been inmates trying to work out your frustration and struggles with the world; Now, you laid on the couch in Wriothesley’s office in the fortress, with his coat draped over you like a blanket, napping. From outside eyes, you both would look like the perfect couple, yet he hadn’t even managed to ask you the question yet; But, he had an inkling you understood, just as he did, how he felt about you. Otherwise, Wriothesley couldn’t fathom why you decide to spend your nights in his office, keeping him company, when you could be in the nurse wing with Sigewinne or doing “orderly duties” for the fortress above on the surface. It made a small smile twitch onto his lips seeing you, you always managed to do that; But, it also bubbled the age old question in his mind . . . is this life good enough for you? Wriothesley is usually a calm man, a collected one, who didn’t often question why people came to the Fortress and simply gave them a second chance at peace – well, more frankly, at life. He understood how such a thing could quell the anger that simmered in convicts and made it his life work to make sure everyone was treated as fairly as they worked for. Yet, you? You were a different question. He still wasn’t sure why you had come to the Fortress in the first place, yet had deduced from several conversations you came from the Snezhnaya. Sure, he could go into the room lined with file drawers with the reasons why convicts had been placed into captivity, but that room was one, far too crowded for his taste, and two, he didn’t wish on peaking into your personal life. At least, without your permission. 

Yet, still, the thought always crossed him on why you were here – by choice! Not that you walked in and checked yourself in, yet you committed many crimes to be noticed in Fontaine, trailed in court, then admitted to your crimes to be placed into the Fortress. The thought of doing such a thing made him cross his arms and lean back in the chair, his eyes more settled on your sleeping form and the way his jacket hugged the curves of your body. You always looked so happy on the surface, to see the sky and breathe the fresh air. Wriothesley wouldn’t want to keep you trapped in the Fortress. “I’ve never seen you so pensive before, Duke!” A voice suddenly appeared besides Wriothesley, causing him to jerk out of his train of thought. He sat up straight, a little suddenly, as he quickly turned to notice the all too familiar nurse of the Fortress: Sigewinne. The Duke played off his thoughts with a chuckle, “Ah, yes, well, I was thinking about something, Sigewinne.” He would half-heartedly joke, as the nurse gave him an all too unamused look. ‘No shit’, was what he was sure she was telling him in her head, but he only responded with a cool snicker. “Well, the tea you ordered from Liyue arrived at the Fortress and I came wondering if you wanted some,” The offer hung in the air, and Wriothesley knew the nurse would tag on a remark. “But it seems like you may need to talk out some problems.” She wasn’t an expert on human emotions, but she was better than spilling his mind to an inmate, Wriothesley guessed… or maybe even you. A pensive hum left the Duke’s lips as Sigewinne walked over, a hop away from skipping, and settled her tray with tea onto his desk. Promptly, she would nestle herself properly into a chair on the other side of Wriothesley’s desk, hands resting over her stomach and a pleased smile on her face.

“Go on, Wriothesley! I’m open ears.” Chimed the Nurse. Though only playful sarcasm came from the Duke as he poured himself a cup of tea, “Hmm, talking about my emotions? That seems like such a fun topic.” He knew it was needed, if not wanted. Even more so when Sigewinne didn’t seem too pleased with his half-hearted answer; As she pouted her lips and let out an extensive huff; “As the nurse, I care for everyone in the Fortress and that includes you too, Duke! Please, don’t make my job any harder than it needs to be.” There was an earnest tone in her voice, and Wriothesley knew she was getting better in her studies.

Even more so when she shook her head after his moments of silence, “Your eyebrows are frowned and your eyes rest everywhere but me or,” Wriothesley’s eyes drifted to you when Sigewinne pointed you out. You had shifted in your sleep, now laying on your back. You were peaceful; It made his eyes soften. He remembered when you used to have trouble sleeping by yourself, never feeling safe enough… Now you were sleeping like nothing in the world could ever hurt you. Like those fears of the past were nothing but fears. And they were; Wriothesley will make sure of it.

Sigewinne’s eyes had drifted off to you too. She was silent as she surveyed the way you slept and then the way Wriothesley lingered his attention on you. “You’re still debating whether or not to tell her, huh?” “And where did you hear that?” There’s the cheeky Sigewinne that Wriothesley knew. Of course, he knew her more caring side as the Nurse but he had a hunch that she also knew about why he had been so “thoughtful” – to put it colorfully. Though Sigewinne would shake her head and smile, “You’re very obvious sometimes! I think even Miss Clorinde knows!” That wouldn’t be good. Not at all. “Does she now?” But Wriothesley had to remain cool, collected. Now, it wasn’t that Wriothesley was embarrassed for others to know of his crush on you – well, by this point, it’s lasted so long he was sure he could dub it love, but better safe than sorry if you didn’t return his feelings – but he was simply cautious about other inmates knowing. After all, you were still technically one of them, an inmate. Your sentencing had been for about three years, maybe four, but you never left. You had chosen to stay since the first day you came, technically giving you a life sentence on your own will. So, if the other inmates know about the two of you – or well Writoehsley’s feelings – it could put your life in danger. There was a tick of silence again, something Wriothesley was rather fond of sometimes… like in this case. Yet, his eyes did not miss Sigewinne standing up from her chair and striding over to where you rested on the couch. There was a careful, cautious, way she held her hand out as she checked you.

“She’s still asleep,” Sigewinne noted.

And Wriothesley hummed in response, “I couldn’t tell.” Where was Sigewinne going with this, Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed slightly, though they were not harsh.

“Maybe she’s dreaming about you, Duke!”

Wriothesley is a hard man to crack. He was the Duke of the Fortress, a peacekeeper among the convicted, and yet sometimes when he was with you he couldn’t help but be that ever so lenient. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you after Sigewinne had come skipping into his office late one day while you were in her Medical Bay. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, being in the Fortress there were few people to speak to you with the kindness Sigewinne does; And you two often had conversations, even nights where you would have quote-on-quote sleepovers. Yet, today you went due to a headache. And, no less than an hour later, Sigewinne came skipping into his office like she had won the lottery – and Wriothesley half-entertained such a ridiculous thought. “What’s the good news, Nurse Sigewinne?” Wriothesley played along with her bubbly demeanor; Enjoying the change of pace from his slow, meticulous work which dragged on for hours on end. He swore to himself when he was half way done, he would go check on you, yet he was only a ¼. Luckily, seemingly, the news had been brought to him. “Well, they’re doing a lot better! It only appeared to be a headache due to not drinking enough water, but that tends to be normal.” Sigewinne reported as she came to a halt beside Wriothesley’s desk. “But, she also spoke rather colorfully about you!"

“Oh?” Wriothesley’s curiosity peaked, though a voice also nagged him about respecting your privacy. “Is that a good thing, or perhaps a bad thing, Nurse Sigewinne?” He knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him much, as there still was patient confidentiality, even in the Fortress. But, by the way Sigewinne’s face beamed and the way her hands animatedly rested upon her hip, he was sure she was about to tell him to shoot his shot… once again. He thought it was enough she had gotten the others to bug him about it, while also still placing stickers upon his back, but he couldn’t stay angered, or even annoyed, at them for long. Or at all. “I can’t say much, but I say you have a very good chance of landing her, Mr. Wriothesley!” Sigewinne beamed, and Wriothesley swore her smile went ear to ear.

Wriothesley was a private man, as private as one can get for being the Duke of a prison, yet you can always tell how he felt about a person from his actions. He was, and is, a man of few words … he always had been since you two were teenagers. And you never failed to take notice of it. Especially when he first began to give you some favor. 

Of course, it was nothing too big, nor grand, when you were teenagers going onto young adults. It was small gestures that would brighten up your day ever so slightly more, like holding open the door for you or walking closer when a nasty group of inmates sent creepy looks your way. He had even gotten into a fight with one of them after they approached you. Wriothesley had walked away for a second, going to get you both your lunch, when he turned around to see the guy grabbing your arm. Seeing you wriggle and writhe under the man’s disgusting touch was more than enough for Wriothesley to send a nasty blow to the side of the guy’s head, which caused him to crack his head open on the floor below.  It had been one of the few complications he had gotten into while at the Fortress, and he never regretted it. At least, that’s what he constantly told you and you had to believe his word. But, that event had been the first time that you felt some sort of pang in your heart regarding the, now, Duke; And it surely wasn’t the last. Especially after you were sure that Wriothesley was sending signals your way constantly by his small actions that always made you feel safer, closer, to him.

Yet, you had always had your own reservations on confessing to the Duke; Mostly having to do with where you came from, why you had left, and who was currently looking for you. You didn’t want Wriothesley, no matter how many times he defended you and said he would punch someone’s lights out if they messed with you, to get hurt because of the people you used to know. So you always waited for him to confess… and then tell him the dangers. But, day by day you compiled more and more reasons as to why Wriothesley might love you, and many more reasons why you loved him back. For one, he was a complete gentleman; To that, while he tended to be a little short and cold, he very much made it apparent that you could tell him anything, or even just lean on him if you needed. When you two walked, sometimes his hand would rest on the small of your back rather than your waist, and he would open the doors for you when you entered a building. Then there was the glares to the inmates who tried to mess with you, which was a little less fun to deal with, but a comfort nonetheless, and the visits to the Medical Bay he’d personally take to check up on your well being. There was, of course, a lot more that Wriothesley did that always made you feel special, more than you could ever count in a lifetime. And you were sure if things were different in your life you would have confessed to him long ago about the feelings that continuously welled in your chest, like a rapid river bashing against a dam begging to be freed yet never feeling such freedom. Man, wasn’t that poetic? 

“Hey, we need to talk.” Wriothesley’s voice was like a net, catching your attention and bringing it to shore – bringing you back to the present moment and back to Wriothesley. You had been at lunch, having brought up your meal you bought with coupons up to Wriothesley’s office and was currently toying with it on his floor. You would usually be sitting on the couch, waiting for the Duke to spare some attention to you which he tended to grace you with more than others. (Seriously! You had watched Neuvillette have to sit and wait for about an hour or more to speak with the Duke as he finished up some paperwork. It was slightly painful). But, you decided to not test your luck that day and possibly stain Wriothesley’s couch with… whatever you were eating. Honestly, you were so lost in thought you had forgotten what they had served, and now looking at it, it was too much of a mess for your brain to piece together. “A talk? That’s never good,” The sly comment shortly dropped from your lips, a snicker across your face as you glanced up at the Duke. His arms were crossed in a somehow pensive and relaxed (you weren’t sure how that's feasible, but he made it work) fashion as he leaned back against his chair, having taken his eyes off of his work for the first time in a few hours. Unknown to you, he hadn’t been able to complete some of the papers that flooded his desk because his mind kept drifting back to you. You. God, you were so perfect in his eyes. Even if he logically knew that no one could be quote-on-quote perfect, he sometimes chose to ignore that fact for you. Only you, really. 

“Nah, I think you’ll like this one,” Wriothesley continued, a chuckle present upon his lips that gave his stubble some light. When was the last time he shaved? The thought crossed your mind. You didn’t mind it, of course, you always enjoyed his stubble, it made him look more handsome in your eyes. But, even so, his looks weren’t enough to evade your skeptical side glance and the cock of your eyebrow. Even if Wriothesley snickered, knowing you had been checking him out a little; After all, he sometimes purposely lets his stubble grow out for you. Wriothesley was a man of few words, and even sometimes his words tended to fail him. So, there was a brief moment that his eyes lingered onto yours, and yours lingered right back to his. A beat, maybe even longer, before he stood from his desk and strided over to where you sat on the floor, kneeling down to your height. And, being so close, you could almost see all the words that were swirling in his head in his eyes; The regrets yet also momentums that wanted to pour out, yet he kept locked inside, as he reached a hand out and wiped a smug of food from your cheek. To others, his face might have seemed cold or indifferent, but you could tell there was some sort of attentiveness in his eyes that gave him away. It always had. And, just like Wriothesley, your own eyes and body always tended to give you away to him. The way your eyes crinkled ever so more when you laughed at one of his poorly delivered jokes. The way you always entertained the joke of Sigewinne being your shared child, much to her dismay, and the way you always naturally floated to his presence when he was in a room.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that, right?” Wriothesley would tease, as a crinkle appeared in the corner of his eye. You knew what he was talking about and it made your heart flip. Both in a good way and a bad way. You would feel guilty putting Wriothesley into the fire that you had forged, which burnt down everything you had ever known beforehand. And yet, you were unaware that Wriothesley was equally as revered as confessing to you due to the likeness that the Fortress might become your shared home. He didn’t want that life for you as much as you didn’t want your life for him. And yet, despite that, Wriothesley was shooting his shot, as despite all the uncertainties that clouded both of your minds, there will still always be a shared affection for one another that wouldn’t fade easily, if ever. So, you snorted and confessed, “You’re not much better yourself, Duke.” Despite your mind screaming at you differently.

And, it was strangely peaceful to get that heavy weight off your chest, even if it felt like your heart was being crushed all the same. Though, if you were able to weather your own struggles with anyone, you know it would be with Wriothesley – in turn, Wriothesley knew that if push came to shove, you’ll be there to lend him the extra strength to deal twice the blow. And so it always felt right, in your hearts, for you two to be together. Yet, why did that new found heavyweight only grow heavier?

Home | Masterlist

[ripeteeth]

Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

Thanks, @danpuff-ao3! You’re always a treat to see on the dash and I hope you’ve been having a lovely break <3.

I’m always a bit awkward with these, both from an itching sort of discomfort with staring my own artwork in the face, and I think from a lifetime habit of denying compliments out of a feeling of guilt or fear. So! I’ve had a glass of wine (and an edible) and I’m going to try to kinder to myself. I might be in the mood to talk right now. (Honestly, that’s a good sign. One of the big elements of my recent writer’s block has been an inability to express myself in any written way, even tumblr posts and comments. Maybe this is why I hit twitter so hard.)

My five favorite fics. Not my five best fics. Not my five most popular fics. My favorites. Hmm.

5. blood, bones, and butter | MDZS/The Untamed] SongXueXiao | E, 12,443

“A relationship, deconstructed. Served three ways.”

Ah, Yi City, that deliciously painful Shakespearean tragedy echoing Wangxian’s romance. The specific notes of obsession, revenge, love, and grief that run through these three make me completely unhinged. I love the quiet service and stoic devotion of Song Lan, the otherworldliness and power of Xiao Xingchen, the unchecked brilliance and cruelty that fill up Xue Yang. The Yi City fandom is easily one of the most incredible fandoms I’ve ever been a part of, full of uniquely talented and deranged writers and artists who love to really explore the dark edges and nitty-gritty of these character and let them be their fucked-up selves. The appeal of SongXueXiao isn’t to make it better for them, it’s to see how much you can make it worse.

It’s two pretty classic tropes: a first time after meeting at a bar, and also a story told from alternating POVs. I really wanted to focus on trying to carve out distinctive interiorities, like their motivations, their assumptions, their fears, their memories, and allow the reader to draw their own conclusions without spelling these all out outright. I’d recently rewatched Rashomon, and I love how the understanding of an event can be so differently shaped by each person’s POV and I wanted to show their first night together in that way, moving the lens over the night a few times, before it gets clear. It was a really fun process to focus on and I think it’s one of my best pieces of recent writing.

4. in search of the wind | Good Omens | Crowley/Aziraphale | E, 27,112

After the World Doesn't End, Aziraphale is not returned to his body. Crowley tries to find a way to get to Heaven's fast-shut gates. Aziraphale tries to find his way back from the sky (and back in time).

I remember writing this almost immediately after the show aired, in that heady summer of 2019, when I feel head over sweaty heels for that charming demon and his delicious epicure of an angel. This is essentially how I saw canon going on, this is the headcanon of my soul. Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen season 2 yet? It was a pleasure to write, almost like knitting together different scenes, different pieces of history, like an extended version of the s1s3 cold open. It’s Aziraphale without a body, unmoored in time, turning up at different points along his and Crowley’s history, and realizing that his friend is in love with him. That his friend is heartrendingly in love with him. I love stories that play with structure, striking different chords each time.

I couldn’t write this kind of story again. This belongs to a very specific time.

3. White Light, White Heat | Harry Potter | Snape/Harry | E, 32,107

“In 1347, Benedictine monk and scholar Severus Snape goes to fetch a young man joining the abbey. In 1347, rumors come of a strange and unrelenting plague from the east.”

An AU set in a fourteenth-century Benedictine monastery in Britain during the period of the Black Death where the two men develop a bond through a special sort of crucible. Snape, as always, falls in love with all the grace of a cat being given a bath. As dark as the material is, this was a pleasure to write. I had so much fun describing the setting, peppering fun little facts like a Pop Up Video of Medieval History. I wrote this in a fever-fueled three weeks, absolutely obsessed with getting it down exactly as it was in my head. I loved writing the monster theme and using it as almost a leitmotif for Snape. There’s probably a literary term for that. Is there? Anyway.

2. the body as anagram | The Terror | Crozier/Fitzjames, Crozier/Ross] | E, 3090

“In the dark, it doesn't matter which James is in his bed. As long as Ross doesn't speak, the illusion holds true.”

I took the title from a passage on J.G. Ballard’s Crash by Baudrillard in Simulacra and Simulation: “Technology is never grasped except in the (automobile) accident, that is to say in the violence done to technology itself and in the violence done to the body. It is the same: any shock, any blow, any impact, all the metallurgy of the accident can be read in the semiurgy of the body — neither an anatomy nor a physiology, but a semiurgy of contusions, scars, mutilations, wounds that are so many new sexual organs opened on the body. In this way, gathering the body as labor in the order of production is opposed to the dispersion of the body as anagram in the order of mutilation.”

There’s something a bit haunting about the parallels of the two men who held the intimacy of Francis Crozier’s friendship. The name. The confidence. The bravery. The charming manner and handsome face. I love the idea of a Francis who sails out pining for one man and returns home loving another, switching between true love and placeholder. And I’m notoriously a slut for both proxyfucking and Gremlin!Francis, who just can’t stop pressing on the wound of his grief. It’s not the drink but it may as well be, for all this is good for either he or Ross, but Francis is a fool in love with a dead man and he does what he does to get by.

Something about this came together, from concept to finish, in a way I’m quite happy with. It was fun to play with concepts and free associate from them, focusing less on plot, but more on the vast empty grief in Francis’ chest. Everyone here knows this is a bad idea. No one is having a good time.

1. Revachol Calling | Disco Elysium | Karry/Kim | E, 35,321 [WIP]

“Somewhere in Jamrock, a church burns. A study in Kim Kitsuragi.”

Sometimes you just feel the next part of the story in your bones. When I first played Disco Elysium in 2021 it hit me in an incredibly familiar, emotional way. There’s something somber and hopeful about it. The writing is sardonic, dark and humorous. It’s nearly cynical but it’s cynical with a sad old smile, because cynicism is born through disappointment, and through not quite being ready to give up. I think we can all find ourselves in it, in one way or another and, like many, I’m hopelessly in love with Kim Kitsuragi, a wild creature who’s built himself within thousands of rules. I can’t play the game without craving his side of the story, his interiority, his history, so I grab at the little crystals of information, such as his secret love of Speedfreaks FM and his past with Eyes, and I try to imagine it might go. This is my sequel to the game and, more than anything, this is my love song to Revachol, a character of a city, and one that echoes vastly in all those of post-Communist country and family.

For some reason, this fic is extremely visual for me and usually in a Wong Kar-Wai sort of fashion. Think the saturated aquamarines of a neon diner sign. Think a studio apartment with cheap wallpaper and the yellow-orange flicker of sodium lights. It comes alive at night, when Kim is left alone with his thoughts, running out of rules to keep him safely in. I love that Disco Elysium has such a vast world to explore. It’s an endless playbox.

And this is also, in a way, a bit of an elegy to a belief I’d once held in a motherland, and do not anymore.

I’m almost done with Chapter 8, so hopefully it will be up soon <3

Tagging! @jaggededges123 @soft-october-night @wildcard47 @rcmclachlan @brawlite @zaxal @pearwaldorf @kiingbooooo @darcylindbergh @et-in-arkadia @itsevidentvery @iodhadh @iamwestiec @mia-ugly @laurashapiro-noreally @pinehutch and anyone else who wishes to!

[wot-tidbits]

1 to 1 adaptation

Disclaimer. This post has no point to change minds. Your mind is already made up and no one will change it. This is written for the sake of my own mind.

Look at the crybabies! They want 1 to 1 adaptation! Oooh, they do not know how adaptation works! Cry, little bigot, cry!

Hello and welcome to the most manipulative sentence that the WoT fandom has ever coined. A sentence which required 8 billion people on Planet Earth to suffer from amnesia simultaneously. Yes, even the person who uses it.

What logical conclusion a sane person can make after hearing the following scenario:

Listen to me, pal. In the last 24 years there are dozens and dozens of fantasy adaptations starting arbitrarily with the Lord of the Rings as the biggest mainstream success. Some of them got successful, some of them were not. People liked some and disliked others. No big deal. People watched the same adaptations over and over. For two decades and dozens of adaptations. For what we know, pal, people did not live in a cave. They got full access to books, cinema and television.

Enter the WoT TV series. All of sudden these people in question must live the last two decades in a cave with no access to cinema or television. They must watch the WoT TV series as their first adaptation. They do not know how any other previous adaptation looks like. They must suffer from amnesia and to forget all other previous adaptations in the last two decades and cannot compare with them. I am the telling you, this is the only logical conclusion, pal, that makes sense when you hear that a person does not know how adaptation works.

What you say? Remove any detail of that scenario and my house of cards is ruined? Imagine that all these people have not gotten out of the cave and it would be fine.

Imagine that such person exists. For real. No, actually I have better idea - imagine that there is a person who firmly believes that such scenario is possible to happen in any turning of the Wheel. Oh, what you say, I probably see such person every day in the mirror. Well, this is awkward…

Do not worry! I have the ultra giga mega argument in my sleeve! The bigots said that “iTs nOt liKE iN tHE b0oKs”! Yeah, this will show those losers! Definitely!

Yes, this argument worked excellent when the bigots cried about the Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter or Game of Thrones season 1-4! What, it did not work? It did not work at all? Are you sure? Oh, no, you did not suffer from amnesia and you all remember how well these adaptations were received by book fans? And that no one tried to explain the bigots how adaptations work because it seems they knew it very well already? Are you sure that millions of toxic people did not hide in their caves and stayed there in silence? What? It is not how the Internet worked in the last 24 years? You must have heard about “HARRY, DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE”? Yeah, what? The people who made fun of this difference between the movie and the book weren't mocked and bullied into silence? I am truly shocked.

Hey, I have another suggestion. You know these millions of people who liked their adaptations and knew how they worked what about that they died in mass extinction and now the thousands of people who cried about WOT TV show are completely new and have nothing to do with the old ones. What? They are the same people? Are you sure? 24 years is not enough time for mass extinction? Listen, pal, I assure you they are not the same! They want 1 to 1 adaptation! I am sure of it! No one has ever heard of that before in the long decades of adaptations! They must be new.

You and me, pal, both know that such thing does not exist. These losers believe that and they cannot provide previous examples to compare. Do you see how smart I am? Pat me one the back. Please, pat me on the back. They cannot….WHAT NOW? You started going around and have asked them about it already?!?! You asked dozens of these bastards? How dare you! I wouldn't never get close to these bigots! Do not believe anything they say! It is a lie! What? They gave as examples as great adaptations the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and the first 4 seasons of Game of Thrones. Every single time? Every single time. Well, this makes it easy. They are truly completely insane as I told you. Don't they realize that none of their examples is 1 to 1 adaptation?!? It doesn't make sense to whine that it is not like in the books and at the same time every single bigot to demand adaptation on the level of the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and the first 4 seasons of Game of Thrones. These adaptations are different than the books. It does not make any sense. They must be wrong. No, no, no, no, it is definitely not me assuming that the bigots want 1 to 1 adaptation. IT IS BLOODY THEM! They cry about it! I do not. Don’t you realize what will happen if the whole time we mocked the bigots for believing in unicorns and it turns out that we are the ones who believe in unicorns?!?! Madness! Do not let them breath! Mock them how arrogant they are! How they do not know how adaptations work! After all, did not you hear? Even Brandon Sanderson doesn't know how adaptations work! A person who you never assumed such thing and you used him as undeniable example of support for the show in the previous two years. Amazing, right? No, it is definitely not me. I still do not hear patting me on the back, pal. They must believe in 1 to 1 adaptation. Otherwise all of this unjustified censorship and mocking for years will be proof of my hypocrisy.

Someone should have told the same to the angry fans of the Avatar: TLA animated series before whining about the movie adaptation of Shyamalan. Why nobody tried to mock these fans then? Why I should know the answer of that?!?

Or maybe we should move closer in time with House of the Dragon. People were angry about that production too. What? Book fans loved the adaptation despite the changes and the casting controversy? You didn't hear that right, I assure you. These bookcloacks whine about every adaptation! Just like they ruined the Sandman! What? They did not do such thing either?

Ok, ok, ok, hear me out then. Winter Dragon! Yes! Oh boy, how much it was despised! Right? See! There was so much whining from the bookcloaks back then… What? Not just from the bookcloaks? What do you mean every single fan thought it was bad adaptation? Nobody pointed that they do not understand how Winter Dragon worked? No one mocked fans that they wanted 1 to 1 adaptation with the prologue? Everyone simultaneously knew what a bad adaptation looks like when they saw it? Are you sure you remember all these events right? Maybe you have some kind of amnesia, pal. You sure sure? I start suspecting you are one of those bastards, aren't you?

No, you are not? How convenient! Then how many more examples of fans of the source material who miraculously understand how adaptations work you will throw at me? Did you not hear me the first time?!? I AM NOT WRONG! The bookcloaks are wrong!

In conlcusion.

The sane person in question after hearing it: Yes, 1 to 1 adaptation is sane and logical conclusion based on the evidence of plenty of dozens of fantasy adaptations in the last 24 years.

We live in an age of wonders where fans of the Percy Jackson's TV show tell the people who watched the Percy Jackson's movies that they do not understand how adaptations work. These two adaptations are separated by merely 13 years apart but suffering of amnesia as we all know is eternal.

Let the Light keep you safe. LightOne

[nanlaria]

2023 Fanfic Wrapup

How many stories did you post?

Since this was the first year I’ve attempted posting anything of my writing online, I had a pretty easy answer: 32, with a whopping 186,402 words, according to AO3.

2. Which ones were your favorites?

My favorites to write have to be the ones for Rurouni Kenshin. As much as I enjoy the characters, I really enjoy the history and doing the research for the era. I find the Bakumatsu era fascinating. The coincidence of two completely unrelated countries (Japan and USA) having their internal Civil Wars at nearly the same time – without any form of relationship – blows my mind. The culture, the language, and the intensity of the times are engrossing.

3. Which one was the most satisfying to write?

Oof. They were all satisfying in some way. The most satisfying of all? That’s so hard to even weigh. For different reasons, I could say Bombs, because physics and chemistry are fun to learn; Walking Wounded because it’s one of the longer ones, but still coherent and complete; I’m Fine because it was the first one I managed to keep under 2k words!

4. The most difficult?

Through Fire and Shadow – and it’s the most difficult because it’s not complete; it is original characters based on a D&D campaign I ran for the previous two years. The campaign may have ended, but I have yet to complete the story. It’s also one of the more … adult themed stories I’ve ever written. Awkward, but yet completely appropriate for the story I want to tell.

5. Rec something that you're proud of.

I’m ridiculously proud of Ring of Fire, Ring of Horror. The six part/chapter (whichever) story is a MacGyver (2016) fanfic not based on any particular episode. I did a lot of research for this one, including maps, trade statistics, regional history, times, travel ability, distances for different vehicles, not to mention botany and chemistry (because Mac has to use some chemistry to blow something up). I put a lot of effort into that story, and it made me happy to have it come to a conclusion.

6. Wow us with whatever big thing you might want to work on next!

Next big thing? I still have several things to finish! Whumptober 2023 gave me so many ideas that I started and have yet to complete. I guess my ‘next big thing’ would be to finish all the loose story lines I have dangling!

Thank you @rosieblogstuff for the tag! I'd tag people, but I think you already got the ones I know.

[rancidjuno]

1,2,4,5,7, 34, and 50 from the barrissoka ask but for kenduli 😍

Ty for asking !!(I’d never shut up about them if I could) – for anyone curious this is based on Bailey’s barrissoka ask game! I will try my best to answer these well without too much word vomit <3

How did they fall in love?

I think for Kenduli that’s an interesting one because, as childhood friends there’s always beenlove there—it’s just it manifesting as romantic that’s more tricky. I go between ideas on this, but keeping things mostly canon compliant I would say Luminara would only allow herself to think of Obi-Wan like that post Barriss’ betrayal. At that point she’s facing the reality that if you want someone to know you care about them sometimes you have to tell them that – and after Barriss, Obi-Wan is probably the person she cares for the most.

That’s not to say they haven’t been together in other forms prior to that, I am very pro the Luminara and Obi-Wan friends-with-benefits arrangement that could have existed from when they are much younger. For Obi-Wan I think it’s more of a steady build than a sudden realisation—he’s got terrible luck (RIP Satine and Qui-Gon) when it comes to the people he loves so I think he’d keep a distance, wait for her to initiate that if she ever wants to. He loves her, and she him, and they always have—but taking that next step is something he’d leave in her hands.

Who fell first?

It’s a similar thing here where there is no strict falling as much as it’s this steady incline of affection and familiarity. That said, I think maybe it manifests more in Luminara first in unconscious ways. For teenaged Luminara, I think my favourite hc is that she has an underlying envy that manifests in ways she wouldn’t understand—for example, when it comes to Satine, she is not jealous of Satine or the relationship that she and Obi-Wan have but potentially of the bond, the closeness that she wouldn’t ever allow herself to have that young. So I guess that could count as falling first? Not that she would know it lol

Obi-Wan knows this, and so he would never push. But hey, maybe if Luminara had been more open before he met Satine they could have gotten together much sooner? So, in conclusion, I think they’ve both been that way all along.

Who would confess first and how?

I’ve written a few versions of this and I think my favourite is when it’s not a confession of love, it’s a confession of possession. And in that case, it would have to be Luminara. She loves her friends, maybe she won’t use that word but Obi-Wan knows that, Quinlan knows that—what the real confession is, the thing that plagues her, is the desire for fidelity, and in turn possession. Friends-with-benefits is fine but it’s when she wants him to herself that confession comes in.

To be clear, I don't mean possession in a: oh my god he's so possessive (Anakin) way! I just mean it in the claiming of something, the claiming of Obi-Wan's fidelity.

Obi-Wan’s played that game before, he felt it for Satine but that didn’t work out—these are feelings he’s been through and understands. And he can’t force Luminara to be okay with those feelings, there are many Jedi who would never be, so it would be his kindness to not say anything until she does.

First kiss, and how would it go?

This one’s fun because it’s another I’ve written a few different ways, but I would say it’s probably when they’re quite young—like the 15-17 age range. It’s pretty harmless, a bit awkward like most first kisses are but it’s not only their first kiss with each other it’s also their first kiss ever so that’s to be expected lol. The safety of having those experiences with each other, who they trust so implicitly, leaves an affection between them that’ll never disappear.

How would their first date go?

I mean, these fools have been going on dates all their lives—their first date was probably a toddler play date lmao. But if we’re talking a proper date date then I think they’d keep it simple. He cooks for her, they just talk for a while, maybe go out for a long walk after. Their daily lives are full of such chaos that the calm of their relationship is incredibly important.

It wouldn’t have been an official date because Luminara’s emotionally constipated and Quinlan probably tagged along but when they’re in their twenties I think they had a bit more of an outgoing taste, like bars and clubs. Maybe that’s me projecting, but the experience of barely being able to think with the music blasting and being surrounded by so many people would probably be something they’d both enjoy at that time. They’ll grow out of that one, though, lol

Who’s more likely to get jealous if someone makes a pass at their partner?

Neither Luminara nor Obi-Wan strike me as particularly jealous people. I mentioned that Luminara has an unconscious jealousy of Obi-Wan’s ability to be open when they’re young but that’s not really targeted at any person other than disappointment in herself. The core of their relationship is an unshakable trust, and because of that neither of them have any concern about the other betraying them in any way.

That said, it definitely depends on how the pass is made. If it’s just a little harmless flirting then I think they’d just find it amusing, maybe even encourage it a little, but if it’s like a physical grabbing or something that clearly makes them uncomfortable then the other would step in. So maybe Obi-Wan, just because Star Wars has lots of sexism (really cool move I hate it), and if anyone ever made an inappropriate pass at Luminara he would shut it down pretty quickly even though she’s very capable of doing it herself. But it’s more concern for her safety than it is jealousy, if that makes sense?

What are some songs/quotes/poems/stories/movies that make you think of Kenduli? I always write and draw to music so there’s a lot of stuff I associate with them even though there’s no real connection. I have Star Wars playlist that is just like by default kenduli songs in my head. Beyond that though, not really! They’re very unique as a pairing to me, and that’s why I like them so much.

[astrowaffles]

📝 How many words do you have posted?

🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?

🔮What's your favorite plot twist you've ever written?

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

🎭What genre of writing comes easiest to you?

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

🙊Your coworkers or classmates stumble across one of your fics, but don't know you're the author. Do you fess up? Or keep quiet?

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

🤷‍♀️What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off?

💪What motivates you to write?

😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

📈Which are your top three most popular fics by bookmarks?

😁What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

🎵Do you make playlists for your fics?

It's taken me so long to start actually answering my asks that I've completely lost this ask game to the depths of the internet. Thank you, Past Jammie, for adding the questions as well as the emojis!

cut because this is gonna be a long one...

How many words have you posted?

154,487 as of 16/09/2023

What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?

Any comment saying 'THIS IS MY NEW FAVOURITE THING' ... I'm lucky enough to have received a few, and I'm proud to have converted readers to my various delulu agendas.

HOWEVER, in recent times, I got a comment on The Final Incident. It was very long, but it essentially boiled down to the commenter not having a good relationship with their family, and Gojo & Megumi having healed them a little. I thought that was beautiful, and I was so honoured to be part of their comfort...

What's your favourite plot twist you've ever written?

I don't write plots, or twists, so this is hard. In fact, I've come to the unfortunate and very boring conclusion that this is an impossible question :(

Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

The Megumi-Isn't-Breathing Incident. It's one of my sadder fics and not at all what I usually write, which makes me extra proud because I think it came out beautifully. Sometimes it's awkward to read the comments, though, because they just point out that my gojo kinnie is showing...

What genre of writing comes easiest to you?

Chaotic fix-its where nothing goes wrong and everyone's friends. I like to think I'm good at writing ridiculous, pointless dialogue that goes on for years.

What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

Gojo Satoru is the strongest, he is untouchable, he can do anything anywhere any time. He has Six Eyes and ten fingers and four limbs but he isn't quite human, is what he always thinks.

Your coworkers or classmates stumble across one of your fics, but don't know you're the author. Do you fess up? Or keep quiet?

I stay ABSOLUTELY SILENT FOREVER. What they don't know can't hurt them

What is your perfect writing environment?

Silence, no people around me, but in a comfortable place like my room. I am easily distractable and my best work is bashed out in one sitting.

What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off?

My Gojo & Megumi series. I wrote it because it's niche and there isn't enough content, but suddenly it's become my most popular work? I'm The Gojo and Megumi Guy to some of my readers. It's insane. I think more people are coming to the fandom due to Ep5 of Season 2, but it's still mad ....

What motivates you to write?

A good idea. If I have an idea, I can't rest until it's written down somehow, no matter how hapehazardly. If I'm uninspired, absolutely nothing will happen, even if the plot is all pre-planned out.

What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

a) being scraped for AI or having someone steal my work, b) being permanently banned from A03, and c) Being Discovered by irls.

Which are your top three most popular fics by bookmarks?

The Megumi-Is-Gojo's-Son Incident

The Megumi-Isn't-Breathing Incident

The Megumi-Is-Tired Incident

What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Comments, and asks are a close second. I love it when people interact with me!

Do you make playlists for your fics?

Only if I'm really into them but I don't want to write anymore. I have a playlist for the megumi & gojo incident, and a general iwaoi one.

Thanks for the ask!

[just-nc-tea]

Hiii Patty!

Before I start yapping, I want to ask how you are feeling. I hope you are feeling well, and enjoy the summer weather (I hope the weather is good where you live).

Soooooo, I just wanted to say that your writing is amazing, and you are such an amazing writer. The way you write emotions is incredible, and every fic you have written is a masterpiece. What I loveeee about your writing is that you always manage to build an amazing world and characters. I also really love that you write long fics, and I personally really enjoy them, because then there is more space for character development and world building, which you do incredibly well 💗 I'm also really excited about the next part of Sacrifice! The story is sooo interesting already, and I can imagine how incredible it will be later on. I do have a question though, what is a Virethar exactly? Is it something you yourself created? I know that throughout the story it got explained and introduced, but I'm still a little confused🥲 I'm also a little curious, how long time does it usually take to plan and write a story? I've been experimenting with writing longer fics (and fics in generally), but I always get stuck at planing or at the start of writing. I haven't posted anything yet, because I'm never satisfied with how it ends. Do you have any tips for what I should focus on, or any tips for what helped/helps you when writing? If you don't, that's also okay! I know that I yapped so much, I hope it's okay though😭

- Lily

Hi Lily!

Thank you so much for asking! I am doing okay! I am very stressed by uni and work rn and have gotten rather bad news recently so...not good, but okay lmao. I am really looking forward to June 14th to finish up my semester so I can finally catch a break! The weather has actually cleared up this week! We had very gloomy weather here. It felt like October, honestly. Which is probably why I was feeling like writing a vampire story that takes place in the winter lmao. Thank you so much for saying that. Really. It's insane that you feel like this. I struggle a lot with portraying emotions so every time someone is like wow you did that so well I am like lmao, thank you!

I struggle a bit with writing shorter fics, because I kinda need the world-building. I don't really know how to write without the universe built around the main character, since somehow every character has his or her story, right? It's like going to the supermarket, and in theory everyone is an NPC in your view, someone you see once and they fill the space, but at the same time they are a real person with a real life and a story (can you tell I love daydreaming about other people's lives?) And just like any NPC, every main character has their own complex back story I love to develop and think about. Most of the time, I don't really have a big plan where the story is going. I do know the main points that will happen, but how. My characters just do stuff, and then I am surprised how they did indeed get to the conclusion where I want them to get to. Many of my stories are insipred by real life events that have happened to me (I have loads of unpoublished stuff that no one will ever get to read lmao) For example "do you think I am fragile" is based very much on myself, since I am struggling with...well the same thing Y/N is but I dont have a hot hockey playing boyfriend lmao. "Nine and three quarters" is inspired by me moving out, and it being kinda weird and awkward with my roommates in the beginning but now we're pretty close. There will most likely be references to my real life in every story I write.

I usually take like two to three weeks to plan out bigger stories. I usually have an idea for a story and then I'll start with planning out the idol's character's backstory and then I think about what kind of lover would be a good fit ( I also tend to use MBTIs). And then, since just living normal lives is boring, I think about a trope. I haven't been in a relationship myself so I kinda stick to what I've seen or read. Usuall,y I do write like small scene snippets of scenes I want to have in the story. And then I think about the plot itself. I put it into bigger blocks and then smaller chapters within, paste that in a Google Docs and just start writing whatever scene I feel like. I tend to rewrite parts rather often if I notice I am not completely confident in continuing. I'll scratch like 10k words and start again.

I have a big miro board where I plan out how the world is supposed to work out and add or reference stuff from. This, for example, was the timeline Gantt chart I had for the DA stories. I have sth similar for the soulmate thing I am planning out right now!

When I just start writing without planning out at least a bit of the worlds and don't have my character charts, I tend to be very unproductive and struggle a bit. I've been working on a request for like an eternity now since I was like oh just a drabble let me start writing, but then I realized after like half the story was done that I have no proper idea of the characters and or what I am actually writing about? Like how the story I supposed to end? And I started again. Deleted everything and started from scratch. I was planning on posting it soon. Honestly, it depends a bit on my mental state and how much stress there is. (I am so sorry anon)

For the Virtehar! Let urself be surprised! I can't tell you essential parts of the story that you will find out later on! I did create it myself and I am still kinda defining everything? I posted part one and then read through my plans for pt. 2 and went nah I hate all of this and scrapped the plotline so I might change some things. Whoops.

I was just very excited to see if the idea itself would be received well lol. But considering its most likely a bit the wrong format and the main focus in the beginning is on Nicho and not Sunghoon the engagement is likely to be a bit slower! But that's okay and it's still insane if even one person takes the time to read and leave me a comment, I'll be happy and thankful lol.

If that is ever the case with your writing!! Don't let yourself be too disappointed. Engagement on tumblr is vastly different depeding on the time of year and weekday you're posting ( I am rn trying around a bit with what length, which day and which time of the day is the best to post) and the trope...and if you include smut (people on tumblr are very horny) . Yes ik external validation is really really great and it can be discouraging to not get much but that will happen. I don't really know how to play the Tumblr game completely myself. I know I should be a bit more active and like find moots but I just simply do not know what to post if not fic related lmao.

I have yapped a lot now and I hope it was just remotely helpful! Lots of Love Patty ♡

[sublime-beyond-loss]

The weirdly profound lucid TSP dream I had several months ago and the strange coincidence that followed

Originally I only told @give-soup-please​ about this because he enjoys reading about crazy and interesting TSP dreams like this, but several weeks ago I brought this up in the chat of my TSP streams, and since I did, I figured it's about time I put this up somewhere more permanent. I do feel a little awkward putting this out into the world in a slightly more public fashion since it does go pretty deep into my own insecurities by the mere nature of what this dream represents. However, if there is even the slightest chance someone might get something out of this, I figure it's worth it. Plus the odd coincidence that followed makes this whole thing all the more interesting, but I'll get to that at the end of this blog post.

This TSP dream I had was one of the most lucid and weirdly profound dreams I've ever had. When I woke up from it, I immediately sat down and wrote out everything I could. This blog post will be a slight touching up of what I wrote.

I was using the jump glitch to mess around in the apartment ending and at some point I fell through the map, only instead of falling forever until the game resets, I fell into a completely unused map. There were no narrator lines to be found, and no sound effects outside of Stanley's own footfalls. The place looked like an odd mix of a TSP map and the later parts of Portal once you break out of the testing chambers.

While the area was fully enclosed and complete enough that you would never break the illusion and see out into the void beyond the level, the collision data was spotty at best and I'd often fall through the floor in places only to be reset back to the beginning of the level. I was stupidly eager to explore what seemed like a piece of unused content that nobody else had found or documented yet. Once I started to map out where you'd fall through if you weren't careful, I made my way deeper and deeper into this dark, eerie, and incredibly quiet place.

At some point I noticed something though, because it was inevitable that I'd fall through the floor all of the time because there was no way to predict where the collision data would not be present. As I'd fall, before the reset would hit, I could sometimes see something start to render in the void. I soon realized that if I could find the right spot to fall through the map above, I would be able to fall right into whatever this was that the game was trying to render in the distance.

Through much trial and error, I pulled it off and ended up in a completely new map below the existing one. It was generally the same as the first in looks. A mix of TSP and Portal, just with an entirely new layout. I continued with the same task for awhile that involved seeking out a new layer rendering below the current one.

Several layers in, as I'm running around exploring, I come to a sudden dead end. There was nothing there, but I still felt as if there was a presence and I could feel it watching me. A Morrowind style text box opens up, and frustratingly, I was not able to read all of what it said before it would move on to the next layer of text. Still, I end up having a weird sort of voiceless conversation with the text box.

For anyone not in the know, this is what a Morrowind text box looks like:

It said that it was glad that I had been looking for it and that it was glad I had finally found it after so long. It likes that I keep searching for meaning in this game that was deliberately written to offer zero conclusive answers. It enjoys all of my interpretations about the game because it makes it feel more like a real being. My thoughts and theories give it shape.

I, of course, can't help but wonder if it's the narrator I'm speaking to, or hell, even the settings person. It replies to this question by saying that if I have caused The Death Of The Author, then it must be the new author given shape by my own perception of the meaning to be found within this game. It acknowledged that to search for and make my own meaning in this game is exactly what makes it so compelling to me. It then lamented that it does not have a voice of its own, because I don't speak much and it can't have any other voice than my own.

It then said, ‘You fear that you will never create something as meaningful as what other people have already made before you. You want to make something that makes others feel the same way your favorite interests make you feel. But you struggle with the idea of it because you feel like all of the relevant stories that could be told have already been told. You were born at the end of history where all ideas have already been explored and what little creativity remains only exists to be packaged and sold at a premium. What can you bring to the table that hasn't already been said? You feel too stupid, too foolish to have a story worth committing to paper, and if you did, what if you failed? What if the publishers reject it? What if the audience doesn't like it? What if you are the fool you've always feared yourself to be? You can't handle the thought of it. Still, you feel like time is running out. You are getting old. The world is falling apart. You want to do this before the world comes crashing down around you, and even though you don't believe it, I know you will pull it off someday. I would not exist if that were not the case.’

‘Everyone has their own narrator speaking inside of themselves, really. Everyone has that voice trying to make a story out of the meaninglessness of their life, before they return to the dust they came from, as they spin around on this tiny rock in a vast expanse of nothingness. It was from that nothingness we came and will inevitably return. Even if you fail at your life goal, does it matter? You will be forgotten someday, just like every person who came before you. Maybe that sort of autonomy isn't so bad. Maybe it's okay to just exist in meaninglessness and to return to that void having accomplished nothing. The out of bounds void of this game isn't much different, and you will keep exploring this nothingness, trying to make your own meaning out of it until it all fades away. You've always been a person who likes to break games and explore what lies beyond, even though you know there is rarely anything out there for you to discover, other than the meaning you prescribe to it.’

It was then that a fucking Skyrim werewolf of all things manifested out of nowhere, jumpscared the fuck out of me, slashed at me and caused Stanley to fall over in a haze of red like at the end of the zending when he completes his final jump. Everything went black and when the game reloaded, I was back at the very start in Stanley's office. I go back to the apartment ending, jump back into the area below and continue exploring while trying to find that entity again. I get increasingly frustrated as I fail to find it. All I occasionally come across are a few textures that look like scribbled text on the wall. 'Thank you for giving me meaning', 'Thank you for making me feel real', 'Thank you for searching', and going with the weird Elder Scrolls theme that this dream seemed to really like, 'Thank you for persisting in this doomed world'. 

Which probably relates to this: 

I eventually get so frustrated it wakes me up and I'm left with an intense feeling of surrealism.

What happened after just makes me wonder about somethings. That day upon waking up from that dream, feeling inspired, I boot up The Stanley Parable and get the jump glitch to see if there’s anything interesting to find. I, of course, try getting out of bounds in the apartment ending to see if there is anything to find, but I had no luck. But, after messing around awhile, I find this:

I swear my blood ran cold when I ran into this. It was so eerily similar to the dream I literally had just had. That dark, profoundly eerie quietness of my dream with only Stanley’s footfalls making any sort of sound. As I wandered around that place, a thought occurred to me. If there was ever a game where the out of bounds void would reveal itself to be a malevolent entity of its own, it would be The Stanley Parable.

And that lead to me making this:

So, yeah.

[its-monster-mash]

i know you havent written for doomhead in a while but i found one of your older imagines posts and i was wondering if you could perhaps write something for doomhead with a blasphemy kink? him as a priest or anything like that. thank you and have a nice day <3

ABSOLUTELY!!! I LOVE this request; Blasphemy is kind of ✨My Thing✨ so I was really excited to write this!! It’s been a while since I’ve written in Imagine Format, so I apologize if the pacing is a bit awkward. It does start a little slow, building up to WHY Doomhead is a Priest now, and why The Reader crossed paths with him.

Summary: Doomhead has to relocate following a loss at 31, ends up masquerading as a Priest in a small town. Reader is the Survivor of 31, who skipped town because she thinks that if she told the truth, no one would believe her and she’d be arrested for the murders of her band mates. Reader of course ends up at the same town as Doomhead.

Content Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, Blasphemy Fetish(of course), Implied sex

Fake Priest!Doomhead X Survivor!Reader Imagines

Blasphemy Kink

• This was the kind of conclusion to The Yearly Festivities he hated most; wholly unsatisfying without so much as a glimpse of the last target’s face. No fun when they’re too good at hiding.

• To top it all off, this of course meant he had to go on the move again; after all, he hadn’t seen them, but he’d bet the sneaky little rat wouldn’t forget the sight of him. Probably went straight to a Police Sketch Artist...he had to reinvent himself if he wanted to keep doing what he does best...go someplace no one would ever expect.

• He was wrong though. You, the Sole Survivor of that year’s game of “31”, didn’t go to the Police...you didn’t go to anyone. Who would believe you? At best you’d be institutionalized for your “Delusions”, at worst...well, you’d be damned if you were going to give that pompous shitdick judge the opportunity to look you in the eye and charge you with the murder of your band mates.

• It wouldn’t be too big a leap; it was no secret that you’d been at each others’ throats for months now. No one would care enough about a group of small-time musicians to actually care about the truth.

• No, it was best that you “died” with them. Getting a fake ID was easy enough, now you just had to find a new place to start over...

• When you finally felt like you were far enough from home that no one would recognize you, you stopped at a town off the highway...way way out in the middle of nowhere.

• The people seemed friendly, but not friendly enough to bother asking questions, and that suited you fine. It wasn’t exactly what you were used to, but that’s kind of the point isn’t it? This little haystack hick town would be the absolute last place anyone would expect to find you...if anyone bothered to look in the first place.

• You weren’t exactly the most religious, but in small towns like these churches tend to have their grubby little hands on just about every aspect of life; you figured they’d be your best shot at finding someone to point you in the right direction as far as a job goes-shit, maybe they could help you into some cheap housing. You really weren’t picky at this point; hard to feel safe sleeping in your van after Satan’s little Halloween Party.

• Besides, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten; and Sunday Morning Services tend to conclude with coffee and doughnuts, so it was unlikely to be a total bust.

• It was unseasonably warm, so you were able to slip near silently into the building through the propped-open door; settling neatly into a pew in the back row where it would be easy enough to wait out the God Talk.

• You had intended on ignoring the sermon, maybe even sneaking a little nap, but the Priest’s voice carried through the echoing halls with a flourish reserved for men who love to hear themselves talk.

• He was more performing than preaching, the rhythm of his voice doing absolutely nothing to lessen the lewd undertones of Solomon’s “Song of Songs”. You had heard it plenty of times when you were made to attend church as a child, and if it was genuinely written about Capital-G God like the Priests say, then God had a seriously nice set of tits.

• You took notice of the old ladies in the front row nodding along; no doubt this was the highlight of their day...not that anyone wants to admit to being hot for the Preacher.

• When it came time to take communion, you fell in line with the rest of the community, receiving a few sideways glances. Not that you really faulted them for it, you were after all, a bedraggled stranger.

• When you get close enough to the alter to really see the Priest your heartbeat quickens; something deep and primal within you begs you to tuck tail and run, but by the time you will your legs to function it’s your turn.

• The Priest smiles at you, almost smugly, and bids you kneel at the velvet alter; you think you must be imagining the sadistic gleam in his eyes.

• You do as he asks, too deep now to decline without looking odd to the townspeople.

• You look up at him helplessly as his hand cups your face a bit too tenderly, a shameful heat pooling between your thighs when his thumb coaxes your mouth open. He tips the silver chalice to your lips just long enough to give you a taste of horribly dry wine.

• Your instinct is to recoil with a gag, remembering the awful church wine of your youth, but he doesn’t let you go, gazing down at you expectantly with the communion wafer pinched between his long fingers.

• It feels indecent the way he’s looking at you, and you can’t help but feel as though he gets off on this, the Power Imbalance of his position. You can’t help feeling like Prey under his predatory eyes, but you were never one for reverence.

• You let your tongue slip out, just a bit more than necessary; teasing if he’s hot for this, hardly noticeable if you’re wrong. You shudder as he presses the wafer to your tongue, holding it there a bit longer than he has to while his eyes threaten to drown your own in their intensity.

• “Partake of the Body of Christ, and May his Peace fill you with Salvation,” he says as his fingers slip from your mouth.

• “Amen,” you say, according to custom, face flushed from the sultry tone of his voice.

• You gather yourself, mentally dressing yourself now that his gaze has left your form as you hurry back to the pew; your fellow churchgoers none the wiser in regards to the indecency of your exchange; perhaps you’re the one imagining things.

• Once the service is over, and your teeth are cracking the glaze on a delicious locally supplied doughnut, you feel a firm hand cup your shoulder.

• “Coming home, or passing through?”

• The Priest’s voice catches you off guard, the warm twang piercing through you and making you shiver.

• He explained that he himself was a recent arrival, and that it is a pleasure to meet someone else who plans on making this...quaint little town home.

• You can’t help but feel like he’s studying you, appraising, looking for something he won’t say out loud. “You seem awfully nervous in a House of God.”

• You admit to him that you haven’t been to church in quite some time; you only came because you need help, and you’re not sure where else to go.

• You meant material assistance; shelter, a job, but his gaze pierces you where you stand. “Yes, of course. The Church, such that it is, can aid you with those things...However, Confessional is always open for matters of the Soul.”

• You sleep in the Church that night, a cot made up for you in the room where the extra books are kept; you feel safer than you have since you escaped that Hell Hole...and yet you can’t fall asleep.

• The Priest’s words and strange nature claw at you, and you begin to wonder if maybe you should Confess; Priests are forbidden to speak of what they hear in confessional, right? You never were one for Religion; your family spoiled that for you, but you did make it out of that twisted game alive, and only a little wounded...relatively speaking...maybe there was a higher power looking after you.

• Maybe you were just lucky.

• Your chest tightens as you reach for the handle on the small wooden door; you were never claustrophobic, but after squeezing into such a tight space and waiting out the Killer Clowns for a painful three hours, you’re a bit on edge entering the tiny candle lit room.

• You apologize, unsure of what you’re even supposed to say. You know there’s specific rules to them; but like much of your childhood, those memories have been blocked out for a long time.

• “Bless Me Father, for I have Sinned.”

• His voice startles you, making your heart pound. You hadn’t honestly expected anyone to actually be sitting in the booth this late, and the whisky smoothness of his voice reminds you of your sinful thoughts during communion. You’re glad he can’t see the flush to your cheeks.

• “Bless me Father, for I have Sinned,” you repeat, trying to still your racing heart. “You...you can’t share this information with anyone, right? Whatever I say is between us?”

• “Between us and God,” he replies, almost cheekily.

• “Right,” you sigh, satisfied that this won’t come back to bite you in the ass.

• In truth, he believes you’re about to confess your lust for him, and he’s already thinking up all the ways he wants to disgrace your body in the eyes of a fairy tail god. He plans on sweet talking you, assuring you that your desires are a gift from ‘The Lord’. He wants to make you his private whore, a secret ‘between us and God’...Your actual confession hits him like a club to the chest.

• You tell him all about 31, the grizzly deaths you witnessed, how you mercy killed your band’s keyboardist after finishing off the fucker who put a chainsaw through her gut; how you skipped town, and how you’re absolutely terrified the cops wouldn’t believe you if you tried to fess up. All is silent, and for a moment you’re terrified you’ve grossly misjudged the sanctity of Confessional, and soon you’ll be locked up at the police station...

• You reach for the door handle, attempting to make your escape, skip town like you did your home, but to your surprise the door is ripped open, and the Priest forces his way inside, clicking the lock shut behind him.

• He’s too tall to stand fully in the little room, and your body is crushed against the wall, knee bent awkwardly against the wooden bench seat.

• His hand’s around your throat, his breath hot against your ear. “Well well, Sweet Eurydice, you escaped The Underworld, but it seems as though Orpheus looked back. Do you remember me?”

• Your chest aches from the torturous pounding of your heart, sheer terror enveloping your senses. You hadn’t seen much from your hiding place in 31; your glasses broken and blood dripping into your eyes, but in this moment, trapped in Confessional with the man, there’s no question as to who he is.

• You remember hearing those horrible people announce him from your hiding spot. “Doomhead,” you whisper, because that’s what they called him. You remember watching him gut your Bassist, taking his sweet time setting up a gruesome sculpture for the others to find. You also remember him going absolutely mad trying to find you after he had killed the others; and the way he threw a fit after ‘Game Over’ was called.

• “You cost me a pretty penny...see, I don’t win, I don’t get paid. The folks up top pay me a lot of scratch to do what I do best...but only if I get the job done.”

• You shudder, struggling against him to no avail. You are going to die here.

• He squeezes your neck a couple of times to get your attention, as though he had ever lost it. “Easy girl; it’s too late now, game’s over. I kill you now and all I get is a mess to deal with. I don’t need to kill you, you said it yourself you can’t go to the cops.”

• “Then what the fuck do you want from me?” You choke out.

• He catches your ear between his teeth, just a bit too roughly, and you gasp. “You were pretty bold on the Alter today,” he muses, his free hand fiddling with the button on your jeans. “I want to make you see Jesus.”

• You’re not sure whether to be disgusted with yourself or relieved that the terror you feel is giving way to your earlier lust, but you make a decision.

• Fuck it.

• Before he has a chance to react, you grab the back of his hair and yank, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

• “Bless Me Father for I am About to Sin.”

• A maniacal grin splits across his face, his fingers finding their way into your pants. “A-fucking-Men.”

I’m thinking about actually writing this out into at least a One Shot fic (full smut; not ending where the Imagine ended); let me know if you(or anyone) are interested in a full fic!

[jasmariswonderland]

Assorted Lore Part 11 ~ Danica And Her Dorm Leaders As Of Book 6

Hello everyone!

So, this was going to be a special birthday post for Danica, but after looking at all I have planned for her that day, I decided to share this now. 

I think it’s pretty clear by now that I am a huge Pomefiore stan considering most of my twst ocs are Pome students. And with the conclusion of my fic and the last part of Book 6 now out in EN, I thought I’d share my current headcanons for probably the most complex relationship in my twst oc universe: Danica’s relationship with her dorm leaders. 

How Danica see’s Vil and Rook is probably the thing that has gone through the largest amount of changes since I first began writing her story back in February. And honestly causes me so SOOOO much brainrot that it’s not even funny! Theirs is honestly one of the most fascinating dynamics I’ve ever written for one of my ocs, full of ups and downs, triumphs and tragedies. 

But let’s start at the beginning. Naturally, spoilers for the end of Book 6 ahead. 

🏹🦢Danica’s Relationship With Rook🦢🏹

To say Rook was immediately taken with Danica would be an understatement. They first meet after orientation and without realizing it, she inadvertently let him indulge in his favorite pastime when she snuck off and he had to hunt go find her. Though they got off to an awkward start, Danica was also taken by Rook’s charm and poetic personality and his frequent praise helped ease her anxieties. Especially when Vil was being more critical of her. In addition to frequent praise, Rook would also give her useful advice and help her out when he was able. She was grateful for his kindness and allowed him to photograph her occasionally and sometimes even watch her when she practiced ballet. 

However, Danica was not aware of how he would sometimes come to her room when she was sleeping and sing to her. Or how when he gifted her a new pair of pointe shoes, they were a perfect fit because he had measured her feet when she was sleeping. Rook also gifted Danica the ribbon rosette that she wears with her dorm uniform, though this gift was anonymous and she never realized he was the sender. Rook and Danica’s relationship stayed pretty platonic until right before winter break when his actions started to take on a more flirtatious feel. 

Danica was certainly interested in him, but she was also interested in Vil and wanted more time before deciding which one she liked best. But Rook was the first of the two to actually express interest when he “accidentally” ran into her during winter break when she was visiting Sunset Savanna to hang out with Taima and Lilianne. Rook and Danica end up spending time alone at his villa and even share a kiss. He proposes that they become lovers but she was still unsure about her feelings and asks Rook to give her time to decide. He accepts this but their relationship becomes way more intimate after this. 

Unfortunately, Rook’s actions towards the end of Book 5 ultimately forfeited his chances to be with her. There are hints to their relationship deteriorating throughout Book 5 but the major things that cause it are when Rook votes against both NRC teams and when Danica finds out that he had been flirting with several of the girls on the RSA VDC team. Most of the girls on the RSA team are non-human and Rook couldn’t help himself. Danica was especially hurt to catch him flirting with her friend Minette, a charming cat beastman. She was also very put off by his apathy towards both her and Vil’s insecurities as well as his infatuation with Neige. She began to wonder if Rook was being insincere about his feelings if he could so easily flirt with other girls. And also wondered if he was lying all the times he praised her if he can really put someone like Neige above her and Vil. Even after all the three had gone through. 

In the immediate aftermath, Danica refused to speak to Rook and had Sidonie speak to him on her behalf. However, after the charons stormed NRC and took Vil, she temporarily was forced to set aside her anger long enough to follow behind him with Epel and Yuulan. She claimed only to be tagging along for Yuulan’s sake but deep down, there was a part of her that was genuinely concerned for his safety. But even after they met up in the forest, Danica refused to speak to Rook and was even more upset when they visited another one of his family’s homes because of the bittersweet pre-book 5 memories it brought up for her. 

While infiltrating Tartarus with Yuulan and the Pomefiore Trio, they are confronted blot phantoms and have to fight them off. At one point, Rook is put in immediate danger and when it seems he’s been critically hurt, Danica breaks her vow never to speak to him when she expresses worry for his safety. This is the beginning of them repairing their broken relationship. 

Eventually, by the end of Book 6, they do manage to reclaim a small fragment of their friendship with Yuulan’s help. They are now on civil terms but will likely never be as close as they once were as Danica now realizes that Rook’s fickle nature would only result in him breaking her heart again. And whether or not Rook truly loved Danica, we will never know. 

~~~

👑🦢Danica’s Relationship With Vil🦢👑

From the start, Danica’s relationship with Vil has always been an interesting one. He was already aware of her family, had seen Fiona perform in a ballet once, and had varying opinions on Ledelle Cosmetics products. Danica for her part always admired Vil and had a girlish crush on him in middle school that she eventually grew out of. When she arrived at NRC, she continued to admire him but kept her distance so she wouldn’t seem overly fawning or insincere. But she soon caught his eye with her tenacity, goals, and personal charm. Compared to other freshmen, Danica has always been in Vil’s good graces and he’s certainly kinder to her.

But because he also saw a lot of potential in her, he held much higher expectations for her and was far from pleased with her shy, introverted nature. Over time, Vil concocted several “tests” for Danica that, while never obvious, were supposed to help her become less self-conscious and afraid of judgment. He arranged these tests not only to help her see her own potential but to discover it for himself. Vil genuinely grew to enjoy learning how talented and determined Danica was and truly wanted her to be less self-conscious. And this was long before he began taking more personal interest in her.

Some of his tests involved her performing in front of people alone, dancing for magazine reporters visiting pomefiore, and helping out with the nrc Halloween stamp rally. She passes all of these tests and eventually, under Vil’s teachings, truly learns to be less fearful and shy. After living most of her life in the shadow of her older sister (exacerbated by her death), Danica was beginning to develop a complex regarding weather or not she was truly as talented as people would say. Or if she was only talented because of Fiona.

But Vil helped her learn to see her own value and as their friendship developed, not once compared her to Fiona. While their relationship was far less flirtatious, Vil came to develop a genuine respect and interest in Danica and by Halloween, was contemplating the idea that their relationship could become more. Throughout November, Vil would seek out her attention more often and they began spending alone time together, having private yoga sessions, discussing ballet and theatre, and Vil even giving Danica her first lessons dancing pas de deux. 

Unfortunately, during winter break, Danica did a photoshoot/commercial with Neige Leblanche for her family and Vil’s anger and jealousy on the matter put a dent in their developing relationship. Vil was especially concerned about Danica interacting with Neige because, while his feelings for her were genuine, Vil was beginning to see Danica as a means to an end. 

Right before the beginning of the school year, Vil confided in his father about some of his insecurities about his constant villainous typecasting and his general insecurities about how the world viewed him. His father mentioned how his own public image softened after he married and fathered a child and doubly so when he was widowed and began raising Vil on his own. From this conversation, Vil got it into his head that the right partner for him could similarly endear him to the public and help soften his “villain” image. Vil initially tried to forget this idea because he felt it was manipulative and he honestly never thought he’d find someone to love that would meet his exacting standards. 

That is until he met Danica.

To make matters better, before Book 5, most of Danica’s traits held similarities to the White Swan that she’s half twisted from. Beauty, tenderness, and, above all, innocence. Danica seemed like the perfect candidate to help fix Vil’s image and their dance during the new years masquerade fully confirmed this when public opinion began to shift to seeing Vil in a romantic, heroic light. And truly the most beautiful one of all. 

As VDC prep began, Vil became obsessed with Danica maintaining a perfectly pure “white swan” image. Desiring to use their budding romance as a way to show the world that he was no longer fit for the role of a villain, but of a hero, a prince. Because in the eyes of Danica, his innocent white swan, he was all those things. And it was his greatest hope that Danica would win the VDC with a sugary sweet performance befitting a white swan. Typecasting her in the public eye as the ideal princess to stand by the side of a hero. Ironically, this was the exact same thing the public had done to Vil for most of his life. Unfortunately for him, Danica had her own ideas for what she wanted for herself, not desiring to be typecasted in this way even if it was more positive. 

Danica’s decision to go against him regarding her VDC performance was a devastating blow both to Vil and their relationship. Not only was he upset about his plans not working, but he also had a genuine fear that Danica presenting herself in too provocative a way might doom her to the same public vilification that he was all too familiar with. Only after his overblot, and after nearly losing Danica to the very poisoned curse he set off, did Vil see the error in his ways. He saw Danica’s disdain for Neige and realized his fears that he’d take her from him were unfounded. And realizing how much he hurt Danica also made Vil realize that in the same way the world villainizes him for his beauty, he had done the same to Danica on a smaller, but more personal scale. He now understands that Danica is already worthy of his love, faults, and all, and that she doesn’t need to be a pure and sweet princess for him to play prince for her to have value. 

Vil’s time in STYX captivity allowed him to think more about how he’s treated Danica, with the result that their reunion is an extremely heartfelt one. While infiltrating Tartarus, they didn’t have much time to discuss all that happened between them but there was a noticeable shift in how they regarded each other. And when Vil’s appearance was drastically changed after his dive into the Underworld, Danica was his greatest (and only) source of comfort as they were returning to NRC. 

In the end, Danica and Vil are two incredible people who are also very broken and flawed. But while the world might put them in narrow, unescapable boxes, only when they can see each other past their labels as full human beings can they truly be together. As of the end of Book 6, they are attempting to do just that. And while Danica is very hurt by Vil’s actions and she hasn’t fully forgiven him, she understands now why he acted the way he did. The VDC may have left their relationship damaged, but it also has the greatest potential to improve. 

And maybe, just maybe, even become romantic in time. 

[leviiattacks]

Boxer Levi & Coach Reader

author note :: i lost the ask for this, but this is not good at all. quite literally the worst thing i have ever written /srs anyways,,,,, anon said they wanted me to post it no matter what so i hope you do enjoy whatever this is,,, the pacing is non-existent and it has not been edited 👍🏼

requests are always open :-) i promise i am usually better than this,, anyway i may just use this as a rough outline for a fic 🤔

word count :: 5.4k....... yeah......

you and levi become acquainted with each other in university. it’s all very cliche if you do say so yourself. he steps in playing the role of good samaritan heroically saving your wallet and wordlessly he hands it to you even after running for the thief. the man doesn’t do as much as pant in exhaustion.

his stamina is…never mind that, his reflexes are out of this world

he expects a thank you because anyone else would expect at least a token of gratitude shown via words but the sentence you want to ask only ends up trapping itself in your throat

it comes to the point where he nods understanding maybe you have a sore throat or just don’t want to thank him at all

eyes flicking to his hands you immediately lunge forward taking your chance.

almost immediately you feel regret for holding onto the wrist of a complete and utter stranger without permission

“your stamina it’s great!” the man turns to you, he isn’t smiling but he’s definitely intrigued by the sudden change in behavior

and that’s where it all begins

levi’s horrible at getting to know strangers, even worse at forming bonds and connections. maybe that’s why he doesn’t warm up to the idea of having to deal with new people and new settings all at once

“i hope you’ve met your coach this is aman-” introductions are cut short by levi stubbornly interjecting in the middle of your sentence 

“i have, but is she you?”

pursing your lips an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, you look around uncomfortably wondering what he means.

“well, no?”

“then i won’t box.”

?????

you don’t even know what to say??? here you were thinking maybe he would be a little more cooperative than this.

his index finger points right at you and he takes a step forwards. his shoes come into contact with yours and you find yourself holding your breath apprehensively.

“i won’t box unless it’s you in charge.”

that is when you and levi formally meet for the first time. you are but an inexperienced coach and he, an inexperienced boxer.

“i’m getting drinks you want anything?”

“oh no don’t worry i’m good!!” you smile at levi and he nods his head venturing off to buy himself a bottle of sparkling water

levi has had you coaching him for a few years now

really he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more than respect for you. respect for the way you stay back late with him to train, respect for the schedules you make him and he’s most definitely respectful of your boxing knowledge

sure out of the two of you he’s more physically capable but it doesn’t change the fact that he becomes frustrated when he’s told he has to spend a day without you.

it’s not like you think that levi cares or anything, nothing sappy like that.

he just probably hates, no, despises having to listen to anyone else’s instructions. he finds that they somehow sound demeaning or less sincere.

every instruction you give him has a reason behind it. you don’t beat around the bush and he’s stated before that he enjoys that he knows he’s developing his skill set and progressing when he’s with you.

the olympus ring - one of the largest boxing competitions known to man is approaching soon and if levi manages to place in the top two his career is set to sky rocket in no time at all

that thought makes you feel unusually nervous

worry gnaws at your mind and you wonder about whether or not he’ll replace you after the competition concludes. after all who wants a coach with little fighting experience? all you really know is from your family. your brother and father had been professional boxers years prior.

you have no doubt at all that levi will place number one that’s for sure but you really hope he doesn’t find a replacement for you.

you’ve never had much faith in your coaching and to be left behind in the dust hurts you a tiny bit but you never bring it up because you know what? levi progressing in his career will make him happy :-)

levi’s happiness over yours and it’s not good to be selfish you suppose >:(

“y/n.” he’s waving a hand in front of your face, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today and he’s caught on

“you awake?” he asks again.

upon receiving no response levi’s now waving his hand with more tenacity

“wake. up.” he flicks at your forehead and you stir a little finally coming to your senses once you see him leaning up above you.

he looks taller than normal from this angle and your cheeks blaze, he has a habit of walking around shirtless whilst training and doesn’t realise the effect it has on you

“i- yeah good totally good. just thinking.”

“thinking about?” levi kneels to the floor looking you in the eyes and your mind falters wondering when it was he began to sit so close to you. it feels like it was just yesterday when the two of you used to eat lunch separately out of embarrassment.

the silence stretches for a second too long and his eyes narrow suspiciously leaving you to think on your feet

“i well, you have a press conference soon and i have to think of transportation and-”

“coach. i can deal with that.”

you’re a little stunned when he says that because he’s never tried to take away from your responsibilities in the past. is this a hint that he no longer wants you around?

“but it’s my job?” you reply back feeling threatened

“but you’re always doing it. i can figure it out this once.”

without even hearing the rest of what you have to say he stalks back towards his punching bag leaving your chest empty

he’s definitely thinking of replacing you is what you think

really this should not be getting you worked up.

you’ve known levi for years, you should have faith in the fact he trusts you but you find yourself indulging in self doubt more often than you intend to

guilt fills you as you scroll through the multiple job listings in front of you but you have a justification. this is your lifeline, you can’t afford to lose your source of income and it’s best to be prepared

however there’s no real amount of preparation that can get you used to the prospect of not seeing levi every day

he’s sort of just made a space for himself in your daily routine

chewing at your bottom lip you can’t get through one job listing without thinking about him and you shut your laptop down thinking tomorrow will be a better day and you’ll check back in then

why does levi even matter?? he’ll officially be an ass when he dumps you of your position?? who cares about him???

but that doesn’t stop you from caring and now you’re hunched over your closed laptop trying to understand what it is that’s making you feel this way

maybe it’s the whole attachment you have with him??

he is the very first person you’ve ever coached that’s true

he’s made you proud and allowed for your name to get out there in the boxing world

maybe that’s what’s holding you back from looking into other jobs

but that reason doesn’t make much sense

you should still be frustrated with him.

AND

you most definitely should not care about how he’s doing OR worry about who’ll patch him up when he ends up stupidly injuring himself during practice (he does that a lot)

“why do i care so much for him?” you type into google thinking there’s no person on this earth that can help you with this predicament now

honestly at this point asking AI is probably going to have to be your only reliable option

tapping on one of the first links you hope to find your answer

“what happened? yeah, you had sex?” pops onto your screen and you tap off as quick as possible.

no. you did not have sex. oh god, you haven’t even touched levi much. the most you’ve done is lace your fingers with his and offer him a hug

are you meant to have… had sex???

is it wrong for you to feel that way withou-

okay enough. this has got nothing to do with sex and your feelings are still valid. maybe you are right and you’re attached to him that’s it!!! right?

scrolling further down you nearly give up until you reach another link titled “the science of caring for those who don’t care for you.”

rolling your eyes you still hesitantly tap praying you find some sort of answer

and an answer is what you find that’s for sure

staring you right in the face in bold letters

1. you feel responsible for that person

not really, he’s very independent.

2. the person is a family member

absolutely not

3. you could be romantically attracted to the person in question

…….

romantically interested?? no. that’s wrong. not true. incorrect. not right. just not real. you are not romantically attracted to levi

,,,or are you?

that does explain why he makes you feel jittery, it explains why you shivered the one time he engulfed you in a hug at his first championship

it also explains why you feel burning jealousy when a celebrity shoves their number into your hands asking you to pass it onto levi. they don’t even look at you like you’re a human being. you’re just a messenger pigeon

they’re worlds away from you. you forever stuck in your tracksuit and them - those beautiful models in skintight dresses and heels to match are stuck in a world where everything they want is handed to them. that includes men

you know it’s not their fault and you’d kill to be like them too but you guess the whole sweaty tracksuits and boxing daily has just become your niche

nonetheless levi is a man. a popular man.

and he sure as hell has no romantic interest in his clumsy, uncoordinated coach

sighing you huddle yourself into a ball choosing not to think about it anymore

but you know you’ve already come to your conclusion

you like levi ackerman more than a coach should

and it’s taken you years to take notice of it

when you became a coach you never really thought people would talk about you much

you were clearly very wrong about that. you and levi are both hot topics on discussion forums and boxing panels. luckily for you levi finds no entertainment in such forms of boxing and so never glances at them

he’s completely unaware of all the online comments. to be honest you’re happy he’s oblivious to it all. he doesn’t deserve to deal with spiteful, mean spirited jabs

you’re less like levi and find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news articles and boxing q&a pages. it’s interesting to see what people have to say on social media

but these days all the searches for your name are filled with “replaced soon?” and “not good enough to coach ackerman?”

the headlines are cruel jokes but again you’re willing to handle taking the brunt of the press’ force instead of levi. yes, even if it hurts you.

“what you reading?” levi peers over your shoulder and you nearly throw your phone away to the other side of the room but instead you choose to grip at it tightly and shove it into your chest

you grin hiding the screen away. “something private.”

levi doesn’t look like he believes you, he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you need anything because frankly you do look slightly distraught but he decides against interrogating you

“oh okay. i’ll be back. you want anything from starbucks?” he asks.

at that moment you wish he asked you if you wanted to talk about what had been bothering you

but you know even if he did ask you’d deny his help

the olympus ring’s official press conference is one in which many rivalries will be established

levi has always had an issue with zeke jaeger one of the top contenders in his division.

it’s a long story......

one which includes the purposeful injury of a mutual friend in order to sabotage his career

you remember it all, the way you had to physically hold levi back from pouncing at the man. it had been one of the most difficult things you had to do

erwin was your friend too and you wanted him to receive justice. part of you wanted to let go and allow for levi to attack zeke with his all but you chose to be levi’s coach before you were erwin’s friends

if he wasn’t going to make good decisions for himself you would do it for him

if you had let him go through with that rash choice he could have risked suspension and suspension could completely halt some careers. suspension almost always led to shorter longevity and motivation

and so that’s why you always shift to levi’s side when he walks past zeke. there’s no way you’re taking a chance. knowing levi he could lose his cool and completely pummel him with an upper cut

so that’s what you’re doing right now. trying to edge levi to the other side of the hall but he does no such thing.

“coach, do you have to be so cautious with zeke?” he finally asks with a bland look on his face

you wince a little when he doesn’t use your name and it looks like he notices the reaction. he makes no commentary on it

“this is my job. let me do it properly.” you explain nudging him to the side so your path doesn’t coincide with zeke’s

levi looks at you poking a tongue in his cheek clearly not amused nor happy

“i’ll do what i want.” and with that said and done he walks on ahead. you take note of the fact that despite saying he’ll do what he wants he does in fact comply with your instructions and walks in the opposite direction and into a nearby convenience store

sighing you rummage through your backpack trying to find your meds

your head has been pounding since you’ve arrived and you hope to fit in at least one nap

looking up to survey the area the street is clear and there is no sight of zeke. you feel at ease at that discovery, not only does he cause you discomfort but he’s a general displeasure to interact with

his tuft of dirty blonde hair irks you to no end and you’re up for no conversation with the man who who ended erwin’s career

he’s the last person you want to ever initiate small talk with.

but fate is a weird thing is it not? because as soon as you’re sure you’ve escaped the clutches of zeke jaeger you hear a chuckle behind you

“well if it isn’t levi’s side piece?”

a hand lands on your shoulder but you shake it away immediately

jaw clenching you try to ignore zeke as best you can but he continues to taunt you

“imagine if levi got an actual coach and not a whore to fuck in the gym?”

turning to face him you see him midway through shrugging his shoulders

believe it or not there had been a time where you and zeke were good friends. a time where he hadn’t let fame get to his head.

so for him to refer to you like that does make your heart sting a little

“cat got your tong-”

and there it is

the long overdue punch

it hits him right in the jaw without warning and you’re tripping trying to stop levi - who might you add has shown up from NOWHERE.

you thought he was shopping?????

“you know if i needed to swing at him i could have?!?” you whisper shout at him completely infuriated that he’s possibly thrown away his chance of competing

“you weren’t going to though.” he says plainly and you can’t deny it.

you don’t have it in you to swing at zeke.

levi doesn’t choose to inflict more pain on his opponent and instead kneels beside him leaning by his ear

you don’t know what he whispers - you’re completely out of ear shot but it’s not even thirty seconds later till levi rises and saunters away seeming content

shooting zeke an apologetic look for the over the top beating you’re surprised to see him look...regretful?

whatever levi said you wonder what it was

it’s been a solid fifteen minutes of you walking behind levi

his back is all you’ve seen so you have no idea about his mood and it’s not that you’re intimidated or anything but peering in just to look at his face is a little odd so you choose to stay a suitable distance away

“y/n.” he says finally when he reaches his hotel room.

fishing through your backpack for his keys you’re surprised when he holds your wrist to stop you

“listen to me.” he sounds calm but slightly on edge

“has zeke always said those things?”

twiddling your thumbs you awkwardly laugh

“well no, we used to be friends. remember how i told you ages ago? he was so cool back then and yeah i miss that zeke :-) but i don’t know what’s up with him.”

you’ve never really told anyone about how you feel about zeke’s hostility so you’re getting KINDA emotional right now thinking about the friend you miss

“i mean to ask, since you started coaching me has he always said that?”

“it was a bit before that but yeah. it’s no big deal at all. people change, zeke changed. i can’t do anything about it.”

moving to find his room keys again you don’t expect for him to hold his grasp

looking up at him there’s a look of simmering anger on his face

“why did you never tell me he said that about you?”

running a hand through your hair you’re only getting anxious having to deal with this in the middle of a hotel hallway

“levi. everyone says that about me. me and you are always together, all sorts of stupid rumours spread.”

“so why do you have to deal with all the malicious comments?? it’s unfa-”

“levi, the world has never been fair.”

handing him his keys he looks between you and them. he’s deciding if he wants to continue with his questioning

ultimately he decides he’s heard enough

a few hours have passed since the incident. neither you or levi have had the courage to come out of your separate rooms to discuss anything

you know you’re going to have to break the quiet and go through his possible press conference questions with him. even if you don’t want to this is your job after all.

so that’s how you end up sitting cross legged on his bed in your pyjamas. levi’s still in the shower so you’ve welcomed your self in. it’s common practice between the two of you to do so

after the one time he walked in on you naked…there’s practically nothing to hide from each other

scribbling a few ideas down onto your notepad you’re curious of what the press have in store for him this time

“yes exactly my thoughts” the sound of levi’s voice is coming from the bathroom, you suppose he’s had to take a business call and think nothing of it

“y/n?” he scoffs and you assume at first he’s calling out for you but then things take a turn for the worst

“sometimes i think about not having y/n coach me that’s all… there’s nothing wrong with that?”

oh.

so your suspicions were correct.

glancing down at the interview questions in your lap you jot down a note at the bottom

hey couldn’t stay for long but try to review the press conference questions on your own if you have the time! :-) much lov good luck, y/n !!!!

and then you retreat.

you don’t know if you make it up but you swear you hear knocking at your door during the night. you aren’t too sure but whatever it is disturbs your sleep.

stretching outside of your room the next morning you’re drowsy and beyond exhausted. you don’t even notice levi come outside.

one of his knuckles is rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. has he not slept well?

“i tried to wake you up but i guess you were asleep?” his statement comes out as a question. you’re not used to levi exhibiting much emotion at all and right now he seems unusually inquisitive.

“i was sleeping.” not even sparing him a second of your time you give him a rehearsed smile and walk off towards the hotel cafe

you can’t find the energy to even look at him

the hall is lined up with barricades to prevent possible assault or injury and you’re behind the stage with levi

the two of you have yet to say another word to each other since this morning. levi’s buttoning his shirt up and you’re looking around for his necktie. the least he can do after yesterday’s confrontation with zeke is to look presentable

“tie?” he asks over his shoulder

throwing it at him you hear a grunt of annoyance. he must have disliked that.

“can you help me with my cuff links?”

breathing out of your nose you feel anxious. you’ll have to get really close to him to do that.

but again you have to.

you take them from his hands and stand in front of him. you don’t really know how to go about this, what way is there for you to appropriately position yourself?

he’s sat on a backstage bench and checks the time on his phone “we’ve only got a few minutes left.” he’s clearly requesting that you hurry this up but you can’t seem to do it you’re completely frozen in place

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks

“nothing.”

he doesn’t have to know you know

“something’s wrong.”

“we’re in a hurry it doesn’t matter.” yanking him by his right sleeve you slot one of the cuff links through the slits in his shirt.

levi silently observes you fiddling with his sleeves, you can feel his stare burn into you. even as you’re moving onto the opposite side you can see from the corner of your eye that he hasn’t stopped staring

“was it something i said to you?” he asks again

a silence drags between the both of you and you debate on whether or not you’d like to enlighten levi with the information you obtained yesterday night

“more like something you didn’t say.” you finally respond.

thrusting his arm back at him his hand lands onto his lap and he opens his mouth to respond only to be cut off by an announcer

“THIS YEARS OLYMPUS RING CONTESTANTS MAY ENTER.”

crowds can be heard cheering outside but levi still hasn’t ripped his eyes off of you

“go on, maybe you’ll find a new coach after the press conference.” your bitter smile tells him all he has to know and his face visibly drops realizing what has happened

“i–”

“mr ackerman to the stage. i repeat mr ackerman to the stage!!”

he’s torn between staying behind and explaining himself or leaving to head towards one of the most important press conferences of his life

his teeth tug at his bottom lip as he looks between you and the entrance to the stage

“go levi.”

and he does.

levi’s sat on one of many chairs on the panel, he gulps taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. he’s not even nervous about the press conference, that can wait. he doesn’t know how much you’ve heard and how much you’ve misinterpreted what he’s said

he finds it weird at first that he’s even worried because you and him have a professional relationship

but then he has to stop himself from smacking the back of his own head. he knows that much isn’t true, hell if it was a strictly professional relationship he wouldn’t be walking around shirtless to get your attention

he wouldn’t lace his fingers with yours when he was nervous either 

he wouldn’t let you tend to his injuries and scold him if this was about being professional, he doesn’t tolerate being scolded by anyone but if it’s you he’ll take it

when it’s you scolding him for fucking up one of his fists it feels okay, it feels right. he feels warm inside knowing that you have to care for him if you get that angry 

he sighs feeling exasperated waiting for the last person to join the panel and get this question and answers segment over and done with

zeke makes his obnoxiously late appearance but levi doesn’t have it in him to roll his eyes. evidently he’s still stuck on you and thinking about apologizing as soon as this is finished

zeke sits right next to levi and some members of the crowd whisper amongst themselves

“have they made up?”

“think there’s gonna be another brawl??”

“i hope not they’re both my favourites…”

one of the reporters right in front of the stage but behind the barricades is the first to speak

“as we all know there has been an unmistakable sense of tension between two of the most promising contenders this year. mr ackerman and mr yaeger. would you like to put the rumours at rest?”

the question makes levi clench his jaw, zeke rolls his hands into two fists feeling just as frustrated. this is boxing not a reality tv show who cares what the terms of their long broken friendship are?

zeke nudges levi’s knee with his and levi returns the movement.

for now they’ll call a truce. it seems that both he and zeke have more pressing matters to attend to

“me and levi are bros. i’m frankly upset such a rumour started in the first place!” the crowd is mumbling again and the reporter himself is stunned by the unexpected response

“i admit that a fight which some may have saw yesterday was my fault. i had made some inappropriate comments towards his coach to get at him. it was a malicious move on my part and i hope people don’t think him and i are mortal enemies because of this bump in the road.”

zeke is so well spoken when he wants to be that levi feels self conscious sitting there having said nothing.

“mr ackerman? would you like to comment or?”

levi’s eyes light up, this is an opportunity to have you hear him. he doesn’t have to wait to explain when he can throw hints right now. you may be giving him the silent treatment but you wouldn’t miss this press conference for the world

sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat levi looks directly into one of the cameras pointed at him. he’s sure you’ll be able to see him from backstage.

“me and zeke have no other disputes apart from that i assure you. i simply value my coach greatly and so i acted rashly yesterday.”

the reporter nods along feeling pleased with the answer.

a few more questions are thrown around to the other contestants, levi sits there bored out of his mind until at the last minute before everything is just about to wrap up he’s asked a question once again

“regarding your coach, have you thought of a replacement if you win the championship?”

levi presses his lips together not understanding the question

“why would i replace my current coach?” where on earth has this question even come from??

“rumours have been flying around regarding lack of experience and the fact you’re outgrowing each other now. it’s all over boxing discussion forums.”

your hands are embarrassingly shoved into your pockets as people pass behind you backstage offering you pitiful looks. maybe wearing your bright pink team ackerman tracksuit wasn’t the best choice because everyone can hear what’s going on up front

levi’s memory flashes back to the number of times you hid your phone behind your back and awkwardly chuckled saying nothing was bothering you. he understands what you were hiding now

his mouth twists into a scowl, he knows you’re a few meters away listening to all of this and hearing it coming out of a stranger’s mouth is probably upsetting you

“i plan to stick with my coach till the day i die.”

you sit up not believing what you heard, it entirely contradicts what you heard last night

some journalists are jotting down notes, members of the audience are leaning forward listening intently

“well, why is that?” the reporter presses on

levi twirls a pen around in his hands staring off into the crowd.

“i don’t think anyone else could tolerate me.

you bite back a laugh because you know that’s true :-)

“they’re a person who saw potential in me when no one else did.”

he chuckles to himself.  “your stamina it’s great!” his witty imitation of you is rather accurate

“that was the first thing coach ever said to me.” he pauses allowing himself to reminisce.

“but i did want to drop my coach the other day.” he admits.

hearing him confess to it should make you mad, you should be pissed off right now but you can’t manage to feel that way at all

“i said it because i wanted them to relax. i never really understood the magnitude of the criticism they were receiving until recently.”

levi’s staring directly at the camera and his eyes pierce into yours, it’s as if he’s actually looking right at you

“i’d be lost without them, so i want to say to the one person rooting for me backstage, thank you for everything you do for me :-)”

you’re covering your face with your hands feeling the blush creep up your cheeks now. GOD what is he doing??? you may as well be the same colour as your tracksuit, you’ve never heard him be this sentimental in his entire life

“so no, i won’t be replacing my coach any time soon. if anything i should worry about my coach replacing me.”

levi ackerman...

he’s a HUGE idiot if he thinks you’ve ever thought of seriously replacing him

levi presses his arms against your sides when you’re both alone and in the solitude of his hotel room.

“i’m sorry for thinking you wanted to fire me.“ you mumble it into his chest feeling much too embarrassed to look up at him and say it

“also i may as well say this now but i have a fat, massive, huge crush on you “

after that you awkwardly laugh to yourself. you both kinda stare at each other and you’re meant to regret telling him how you feel right now but you don’t. having that weight lifted off your shoulders feels amazing.

"you don’t have to like me back or anything and i know you don’t like me back obviously you probably like that one actress- what was her name?? the one with the long black hair she gave you her number at a fundraiser dinner. you’d both look cute together, have i said that??”

levi gives you a blank look

“i threw her number away.”

you’re open mouthed feeling completely shocked, she’s gorgeous??

“HUH?? HELLO WHY? LEVI ACKERMAN, HAVE YOU EVEN SEEN HER??”

“i have but is she you?”

the all too familiar words from years ago ring in your ears 

nostalgia hits the both of you in waves and levi takes you in for another hug. your heart hammers in your chest and with your face pressed against him once again you can feel the irregular beat of his heart too. 

that is when you and levi formally meet for the second time. this time you are but an experienced coach and he, an experienced boxer.

:-)

[sultryvodka]

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙚! 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙢𝙖𝙮 4𝙩𝙝

warnings: mild swearing, mildly suggestive (if you squint lol)

| armin - colt - eren - jean - porco |

armin arlert

• i think most, if not all of us, agree that armin looks like the type to get all flustered with PDA & shy away from his emotions --- HOWEVER.

• rather than being all over you, he finds himself most comfortable with holding your hand or having an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

• he wouldn't mind you being clingy though 👀

• would occasionally place a gentle peck on your forehead, cheeks & his personal favorite; the palm of your hands.

• you guys' dates would mostly end up being in a library, café & restaurants with a nice warm atmosphere.

• i bet he would be the kind of guy to take you to the beach whenever you're stressed out in hopes of calming you down.

• gets very defensive when his friends tease you, if a man could bark his friends away, it's armin arlert.

• this lad over here would establish a routine with you (with your consent & opinions ofc)

• mondays to friday mornings are centered on school, you guys do your own thing at school & walk you home while making sure to stop by a convenience store for snacks, assuming that you guys don't live together yet.

• both of you make it a point to check on one another to make sure you guys aren't wearing yourselves out.

• which leads me to the conclusion that your parents grew very fond of him & treats him more like their child

• when you guys are having a sleepover, this whole lowkey facade of his takes a 180 and the second you reach the bedroom he'll shower you with cuddles and kisses.

• you would watch movies (mostly rom-com just bc armin makes it work okay) tucked in a warm futon with popcorn and candies between you two.

• armin strikes me as a very studious guy and he does this to ensure you guys' future together ^-^

• all in all armin cares about you so much and he doesn't mind being vulnerable to you. he is your safe haven, and so are you to him.

colt grice

• okay can we talk about how this perfect man deserves some more attention

• colt, my man, gives me disney's prince florian vibes. the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, & just an absolute dream.

• he's the kind of guy to take you to the park, a greenhouse, & WORKSHOPS!!!

• given the idea that he is in fact a shy little baby, he is actually pretty active with you. every date you guys have is different. mans has a quest planned out for y'all.

• at school i think that you might be the one to initiate skinship. doesn't have to be kisses on the lips, it's more of gently trailing your index on the back of his hand or rubbing a hand on his forearm when he gets a little anxious.

• the type to peek through your classroom's door because bubba's too shy to ask someone to call for you 🤧

• colt, in my opinion, is very domestic in private, now don't get me wrong he may be a little too shy in public because he isn't used to it but i promise you he takes on the nurturing role of the relationship more than you are.

• he helps you with cleaning, folding your clothes, and god if you guys get periods, he's got a whole pouch in his locker just for you.

• he doesn't do it intentionally, he happens to know you so well that he notices the slight change in your moods & cravings.

• colt often reads a book while you guys cuddle during the afternoons once all the work is done, he'd make you tea or whatever you want. he hums a tune, probably from old disney movies that his brother falco used to enjoy as a kid.

• your parents are more invested in your marriage than you and colt combined.

• okay, now if you happen to have a baby or a toddler somewhere around the house, someone keep this man from turning into a putty.

• as much as colt acts prim and proper most of the time, he has his moments where he just wants to be an entire mess. perhaps sleeping past his usual waking time, indulging in more snacks than usual. you know, loosen up? yeah, that is a side of his that only YOU will ever be allowed to see.

• so yes you and colt would be labeled as the: put-together couple who needs a little bit of adventure every now and then.

eren jaeger

• i hope i don't ramble too long because i love him sm

• mr. loverboy over here is a simp for you, more than you are a simp for him! he is not afraid to show you off and shower you with flattery. now he does this because he feels so lucky to have you.

• he can be a little cliché (well maybe not as much as jean --- more on that later), like he'll randomly interrupt your vacant class with a gift box he put together, & a bouquet. yes. (carla helped him pick out flowers from her shop)

• he's the type to crash his lips with yours in the middle of campus when you achieve something or when he does, vice-versa. if he plays in one of your school's teams, there just HAS to be a bet that if he wins he gets a kiss... or more... or something else.

• dates with eren are usually random than planned. like it pops in his head and he'll inform you right away. he respects your vacancy too of course but if you aren't he might pout just a little bit.

• his ideal dates are prop shop dates, going to hotspots, amusement parks, antique shops! & maybe late night drinks at a quiet bar where you can both enjoy the solace of the atmosphere.

• on special occasions, he does plan ahead. usually it's something on the simpler side. candlelit dinners at home or somewhere you guys both enjoy dining.

• if eren's had a bad day, best believe that he will run to you for comfort. only you can help keep his aggressive response to anger at bay.

• if given the chance he would take you around the world, he's that passionate in making sure you live a little

• hear me out... you and eren would probably have the most philosophical conversations, just laying on your backs beneath his room's skylight? heavenly.

• eren can get a little poetic expressing himself & i believe that it's just wonderful. no one can describe their feelings as good as eren.

• his favorite look of yours is when your eyes beam with excitement, it usually happens when you spot something that you used to enjoy as a kid or when you're concentrating on one of your hobbies.

• he's a very touchy person too, his hands are usually on your stomach/waist, his kisses are random & they linger for awhile.

• when you're asleep next to him, it's his habit to solemnly watch you while his own drowsiness starts to take over.

• eren is passionate & sometimes people might take it the wrong way. one of the reasons eren loves you is because of the way you understand how he is. mutual growth for y'all ♡.

jean kirschtein

• jean is not afraid to pull a live performance for you, you see this man is at the top of the world when he's with you. from 80s hits to recent releases this man will blast his playlists catered for you.

• dates with jean are certainly spent on concerts, (him & eren bond over chase atlantic don't argue with me) music festivals, thrifting & late night drives!!!

• personally, i don't see jean as very gimmicky unless you guys are with his friends, he takes you very seriously and you are his top priority.

• at school i think he's definitely one of those flirtatious boyfriends. the kind who would not miss an opportunity to blow you a kiss or throw you a wink. he can be a bit of a dork, who wouldn't be? if he can get one of your rare smiles 🥺

• jean's the type to ask his pals for help when it comes to styling. not because he dresses badly but he's too focused on getting a flush on your cheeks. he's a hopeless romantic.

• if you guys happen to stay at home, he'll definitely serenade you with the amount of songs he had written recently just for you.

• since he bonds with sasha and connie, his jokes are either dad jokes or something that went viral on tiktok. he's the perfect balance of goofy and mature.

• if you aren't much of an active person he wouldn't mind being lazy with you and insist on a diy spa day at home.

• it's just netflix with a tub of ice cream and face masks on.

• since jean is quite the romantic, he would be into couple outfits or items that aren't cringey obv and probably doesn't mind using your perfume or vice-versa.

• jean probably asked you out during one of his gigs, offering you a single rose afterwards.

• he's the type to leave you random post-it notes if he visits your house. just random phrases or doodles. and boy does he pick you up every single day on his smexy motorcycle.

• he'll bring you coffee and breakfast to-go. this man's spoiling you baby.

• aside from that, i feel like jean would make you hand-made gifts with the help of his momma. he thinks it's sentimental when you make your presents because it's one of a kind.

• jean does all these things because he's 100% about you being a constant person in his life. he loves how he can be whoever he wants when he's around you, i'm certain you guys wouldn't have it any other way either.

porco galliard

• porco can be a dick if he wants to not to you though, this tough guy turns into putty just for you. he definitely loves being treated like a baby.

• at first he might come off as cold because he isn't used to the whole romance thing and he gets flustered with the slightest pecks so you might have to initiate at first.

• but once you guys get through the awkward phase this boy would straight up greet you with a passionate kiss and does not give a damn about everybody who witnessed it. he might even have a stupid smirk on his face.

• like eren, i feel like porco would be very passionate and intense. he doesn't say much but he definitely shows you just how much he adores you.

• speaking of friends (: reiner would tease him every second of the day. i bet he would team up with bertholdt to annoy this poor boy. annie and pieck's not much help either.

•whenever you're stressed, porco would run you a bath and give you massages very often. he'll sit on the edge of the tub while he runs his hand through your hair.

•his type of dates would be watching at a cinema or a drive-in, going to the mall just to look around,he's a simple guy.

•if you guys happen to have an argument, porco would distance himself for a few minutes to a few hours just to process the situation and avoid anything his aggression might cause.

•he knew that if he wanted you guys to work he needed to be better.

•he would come back though and hold you in his arms while you guys talk it out.

•i bet he's one of the aot characters who would be an athlete, so most days you'll end up watching him practice.

•overtime, porco would be more open to being intimate in public and post stories of you two just doing things most couples do.

•he's proud that you're his and he's all yours.

•porco is a great guy and he would do anything just to make you smile.

i hope you guys liked these~! let me know who you guys want to be in the second part. requests are open and as always, stay safe! - 🌸☁️

[mythicamagic]

Unorthodox: a Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome is pleasantly surprised to receive a present from Sesshoumaru for White Day... until she glimpses the contents inside her gift box.

AN: Written for the Sesskag 2021 Big Bang event on tumblr! @chierafied​ 

I was paired with @milomai-art​ and here’s their lovely artwork: https://milomai-art.tumblr.com/post/648766972634513408/unorthodox-mythicamagic-inuyasha-a-feudal

Rated K+

Words: 3,000

You can read it on Ao3, Dokuga or fanfiction.net. 

Unorthodox

Valentine's day had come and gone, with a notable difference this year for Kagome compared with the last lonely three;

Her return to the Sengoku Jidai.

To celebrate reuniting with her beloved friends, she'd gone all out. Everyone received gifts, right down to Myoga and Jaken; no one had been excluded.

For all her efforts, however, she expected nothing in return. Though she'd explained the concept to the Inutachi, Sango and Miroku were much too busy looking after their children to keep track of dates, Shippo was often away at Kitsune school and Inuyasha had been absent as of late. Besides that, since their relationship had ended, the subject of Valentine's had become an awkward one. She'd had to stress the platonic intent behind her gift to him.

Therefore, Kagome had pretty much forgotten all about White Day by the time it rolled around.

Exiting Kaede's hut with a tub of water in her arms, intending to give the old miko's horse a good scrub down, she dug in her heels the second exquisite silks, armour and a fur pelt registered- having blinked into existence before her. Kagome gaped, swaying. Water sloshed, some spilling to their feet.

"Uh hi," looking up at grave, handsome features, she arched a brow. Sesshoumaru stared at her fervently. "Nice to see you, Sesshoumaru," adjusting her grip, Kagome sidestepped him and flashed a warm smile, used to his minimalistic approach to conversation by now. "Do you need something? Inuyasha isn't here. I think he's helping the next village over repair a-"

"I am not here for him."

Kagome noted his succinct tone, sounding more defensive than usual. Setting down the wooden tub carefully, she straightened, tilting her head. "Then what are you here for?"

"White Day."

"White... ah!" Kagome gasped, "that's right! How did you know about that?" she blinked, noticing he looked extra grumpy today. His jaw ticked, golden eyes narrow. Slowly, the miko brightened. "No way. Did you... get me something?" she breathed, strangely touched.

Of all people, Sesshoumaru had remembered? Was she dreaming?

A hand thrust out stiffly towards her, balancing a small box upon his palm.

Accepting it with thanks, heat touched her cheeks. Weird. She really shouldn't be indulging this- or feeling kind of happy. It didn't mean anything to be pleased, right? Was she even allowed to feel warm and fuzzy towards her ex's brother?

Opening the lid, Kagome tried to squash her excitement- peering down. Slowly, she reached in, retrieving a silky soft thing.

It appeared to be made of something long, silver and fine, the material woven into a pretty design. A bracelet of silk, if she could hazard a guess.

"Um, thank you," Kagome raised her gaze. "What's it made of, out of curiosity? It's very soft."

Sesshoumaru appeared pleased, preening a little. "Only the finest material."

"Really?" she stroked it. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble on my account."

He scoffed, midsummer gaze smiling slightly as his tone became haughty and prideful, "it was no trouble to use this one's own hair."

Kagome dropped the bracelet back into the box. "Whut?"

Lithe fingers combed indulgently into his fall of lustrous silver hair, "you need not be alarmed. The strands grew back quickly."

That isn't what's alarming me, Kagome silently screamed. Now that she was paying attention though, the pale bracelet really did resemble the demon lord's long flowing locks.

Her hand recoiled a little from the box. "W-well, um... thank you very much," Kagome said thinly. "It's a very thoughtful gift. Truly."

Sesshoumaru's keen, piercing eyes roved over her strained features, voice deepening. "If you do not wish to accept it-"

"N-no, I do! I'll wear it right now!" Kagome grabbed it madly, fiddling with the thing while repressing a shudder. She tried and failed to secure the clasp, stiffening when large hands closed over her hand.

The demon lord leaned forward- that same hair currently being secured around her wrist falling free from behind a pointed ear. Silver strands draped down like a gossamer curtain, tickling her flushed, sensitive skin.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, expression unreadable.

Shifting her wrist, Kagome observed the threads of hair wrapped around it. His bracelet felt odd, the concept totally foreign. However, she could feel how much the gesture meant to him. She didn't fear offending him because of his dark temper- more because she cared about his feelings and wanted to nurture any hint of a bond between them.

"Thank you," Kagome said. "No one else brought me anything today, so I'm...I'm grateful."

Even if it was the weirdest thing she'd ever received. A bracelet made of hair wasn't exactly traditional.

Straightening, Sesshoumaru's lips thinned as his eyes flickered with confusion.

Kagome blinked, wondering what else he'd envisioned her saying.

"Hn," inclining his head regally, he pivoted sharply and began stalking away quickly, giving a swift kill to the conversation.

---

Without a frame of reference for how long he desired her to wear it, Kagome tugged her sleeve down to hide the bracelet from curious eyes during the next few days. She tried to ignore the sensation of hair continually brushing her skin.

"I wonder if it means something important," Kagome examined it while sprawled out upon a grassy hill, taking a break from her miko duties Kaede had started dishing out ever since her return.

Sesshoumaru had seemed extremely serious while giving it to her. Then again, the gift could've meant nothing. Maybe his hair was just THAT valuable in the Daiyoukai's opinion. She snorted, twisting her wrist and watching silver threads catch on sunlight, making it shine white. "His ego is big enough. I'd believe it. Heh, maybe he'd also give me one of his eyelashes, or a fingernail or..."

Why was Sesshoumaru heading towards her?

Sitting up and fussing absentmindedly with her hair- removing a few stray leaves- Kagome felt heat flood her face.

Okay, no- she shook herself, putting a firm lid over the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Too strange. Enough of that.

The Daiyoukai stopped a few feet away, expression detached. Kagome knew by now to ignore it in favour of looking into his eyes. They were intent and unblinking today, hinting at his seriousness.

"Hi," she said, patting a spot next to her. "It's rare for you to visit the village again during the same week. What's up?"

Sesshoumaru cocked his head to the side at her odd term. Kagome bit her lip, finding it endearing. Her attention strayed, noticing yet another box sitting innocently upon his hand.

She paled. Oh no.

Gracefully sweeping himself down onto one knee- he thrust the new box out towards her, giving Kagome a dizzying sense of Déjà vu.

I was joking about the fingernails. Please be something normal. Please.

Accepting it gingerly, blue eyes flicked up towards him. "White day is over, you know."

"This one is aware."

"So...why the new gift?"

Sesshoumaru pretended to be interested in the gentle bubbling stream not too far away. "Because it pleases me to give it to you."

He was so difficult to figure out. Not wanting to squash his newfound sense of generosity, Kagome carefully removed the lid.

The contents did not look promising.

Trying not to jump to conclusions, she reached in and removed the long necklace. A single solitary tooth hung from the chord.

"Ah," Kagome squinted. "Open your mouth a sec."

Sesshoumaru's lips parted wordlessly, mouth opening wider to reveal a gap where one of his sharp canines used to be.

"This...is yours?" she asked weakly.

Sesshoumaru closed his mouth and nodded primly. "It will serve you well, should you have need of it."

In what way would I ever have need of a tooth? a wrinkle marred her brow as she considered it, coming to a small realisation. "To make a sword from?"

"Hn."

Well, that explained a small piece of the puzzle. In a very 'Sesshoumaru' way- it almost seemed a little sweet, practical even.

However, this did not help assuage her naturally squeamish reaction while looking at the freshly plucked tooth.

"Thanks," she said lamely. "I-I'm sure it'll be very useful if I visit Totosai in the future."

Her answer didn't seem to be what he was looking for. Sesshoumaru's gaze flitted from her to the dangling fang. "Females... prefer jewels, make-up or clothing, I suppose."

Kagome scratched her cheek, "depends on the lady- but you really don't have to worry, Sesshoumaru," laying a hand over pale knuckles resting upon his knee, she gave a squeeze. "I'm touched you're being so thoughtful. There's no need to give me anything else though, I have more than enough."

His nostrils flared, jaw setting stubbornly. He drew himself up to stand, "you are too modest."

Feeling thoroughly discombobulated, Kagome could only watch as he pivoted with all the grace of a dainty dancer, stalking away with billowing sleeves.

---

For two weeks, Sesshoumaru continued visiting the village at random intervals. His flair for turning up at the most unexpected times made it difficult for Kagome to anticipate his visits. Sometimes he'd arrive bright and early, others- nearing nightfall. Occasionally he'd visit Rin, but their interactions seemed distracted. Rin would whisper fiercely to him while gesturing in Kagome's direction, but he'd ultimately leave without speaking a word to the miko.

It was odd, confusing. She'd used to think of Sesshoumaru as a fairly straightforward demon. As of late, he'd been downright unpredictable and... flakey. She kind of missed their previous easy interactions when she'd pick herbs and prattle on while he occasionally offered a word or two. His silence had felt comfortable rather than awkward.

I don't know how to get that back, Kagome thought sadly.

A chilly wind passed by, breeze rushing around her exposed neck. Adjusting her miko garb, she sneezed, shivering a little. Autumn would soon be on its way.

The heat of an intense stare sent a new chill down her spine. Kagome turned, sensing it- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing at her intently.

Was it her imagination, or did he seem absurdly pleased? As though struck by a revelation.

As was typical behaviour for him, the demon lord began walking away without a word.

---

Trudging back from training in the woods, Kagome shouldered her bow while walking around a thick tree- only to quickly stop, almost bumping straight into polished armour.

Sesshoumaru stood before her, holding another box. This time it was larger, more of a rectangular shape.

"M-more?" Kagome squeaked. Her heart thundered. It felt like so long since they'd last spoken.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head gravely, "hn."

Biting her lip and somewhat dreading what cast-off part of him could be inside this time, Kagome grasped the lid and removed it- only to slam it abruptly back down.

"What… what is that?" she asked thinly.

Sesshoumaru's lashes fell shut and slid open in an unruffled blink.

"My fur."

I thought as much.

Kagome removed the lid with trepidation once more, lifting out the lush, soft coat. Even while her hands sank into the cloud-like material, blue eyes remained wide with distress.

Sesshoumaru seemed to guess her line of thinking. "It is discarded fur that I have shed, not cleaved off. Do not worry."

"O-okay," she said thinly. It's still weird though. Too weird. Imagine if I'd made a coat of shed skin.

It was so odd that Kagome felt a line needed to be drawn, placing it back into the box and numbly accepting it from him. "Sesshoumaru… I have to put my foot down now. I appreciate your gifts but I can't accept any more."

He stiffened, the burning embers in his eyes freezing into glassy orbs.

Kagome rushed to explain, "it's very sweet of you, and I appreciate the thought. I'm just not, uh…sure they're suited for a human. Besides, you seem to be worrying about what to get me instead of talking to me. I'd rather we just spoke like old times instead of this awkwardness."

"I see," he said stiffly.

She took a step forward, eyes widening when he took one back and turned. "This one did not intend to give you things deemed inappropriate and unwelcome. Farewell."

"Wait-!"

Too late, Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hand.

Kagome grit her teeth, sighing and balancing the box on one hand. Damn it.

Slowly, Kagome lowered the box onto a tree stump and gingerly lifted the coat. It felt lush and divine, her hands disappearing within the sheer volume of fur. Sliding her arms into the sleeves and putting it on, Kagome wrapped it around herself, feeling like she were enclosed in a giant fluffy cloud. His static youki brushed her skin intimately, fanning out from the strands.

It was big. It was a little ridiculous. It was wonderful.

Kagome groaned, burying her face in her hands. Sure, the idea of him collecting his shed fur to sew into a coat was strange by human standards, but actually wearing the coat, she now understood his simplistic intent.

He'd just wanted her to be warm.

"You're such a weirdo," she grumbled, blushing and dipping her nose into the fur. It smelled like him; wild forests, with the hint of refined smoke from a pipe.

Maybe she was weird too.

---

He was absent for an entire month.

Sesshoumaru figured it would help ease the sting of rejection. The second he caught Kagome's fragrance, however, it was like an old wound had been ripped open again.

His lips thinned, firmly keeping all emotion locked tight behind a placid mask as he visited Rin.

Chatting with the girl allowed him to soothe his stung ego for a while, distracted by Rin's news about the village and her training. Occasionally she would mention the miko and his chest would tighten again. How pathetic of him.

Once his cup lay empty and Rin mentioned the need to leave in order to assist the older miko, Sesshoumaru took his leave.

Stepping foot outside Kaede's hut, however, he froze.

Kagome stiffened before him, swathed in furs- his furs- he dimly noted.

More than that, lithe fingers curled around the fang resting at her collarbone. The silver bracelet of his hair caught the light before disappearing beneath the length of her sleeve.

Kagome's cheeks heated, and she thrust out a box, letting it rest on her palm.

"I asked around," she muttered. "Inuyasha was clueless, and Shippo kept laughing whenever I tried to ask him what was going on. Luckily Myoga happened to stop by," blue eyes pinned him in place. "You could've told me what all the gifts meant instead of leaving me in the dark."

Sesshoumaru did not accept the box just yet. "I thought my intentions were achingly clear."

Embarrassingly so, for a proud demon.

"Not for humans!" she huffed, lowering her hands a little. "I was confused the whole time! How was I supposed to know that you were giving me a betrothal bracelet, or that the fang was for any half-demon children I might have when they need a sword? I kind of figured out the coat, but I didn't know it represented your intentions to provide for me."

Sesshoumaru stared. Oh. Perhaps he should've listened to Rin about courting the miko after all.

Cheeks scarlet, Kagome sighed, lifting the lid of her box off and removing something from inside.

"May I?"

Sesshoumaru nodded dazedly, golden eyes widening. His entire being thrummed, heart picking up speed.

Shifting closer, Kagome pushed some dark locks behind her ear, the length slightly shorter than usual. Sliding a black bracket around his striped wrist, Kagome swallowed. Her hair had been woven into a band much like his, though nowhere near as intricate.

The demon stared at it, fixated. Baser instincts purred.

Molten gold eyes slowly raised to pin her with a disarmingly reverent look. He spoke no words of poetry, no love or longing, but it was there, he hoped. Abundantly clear. Kagome seemed to recognise it for what it was now.

She smiled a little, hugging her arms and scuffing her foot. "Don't get the wrong idea; I'm not saying I'll jump into marriage with you, but it turns out I'm kind of interested in dating you. Really... interested," Kagome forced out, obviously embarrassed but soldiering on. "If it's okay, we could...do that," she finished lamely.

Sesshoumaru took a step forward, invading her personal space. She blushed exactly the way he'd hoped she would, babbling. "So the uh- think of the bracelet as a dating bracelet! Maybe down the line it could...it could become an engagement thing," she murmured, voice dimming in the wake of his proximity.

"Hn," honeyed eyes smiled, careful claws unfurling to find her chin. "That would be pleasing," he uttered in a faint rumble, tipping his head down. "I accept."

Satisfaction rolled through him fiercely as she tilted her head just so- lips meeting and brushing feather-light against his. Emboldened, Kagome's hands found the collar of his hankimono just as he took her by the waist as though entering a dance, tightening.

Sesshoumaru let his eyes flutter shut, inhaling sharply through his nose. He could smell her so bright and clear—the sweetness of tangerines, faint, exotic soaps—and her mouth so warm. Kagome kissed him, firmer, hand finding his hair- fingers curling. His breath began to roughen the longer their kisses went on. His heart chanted the truth of it all- 'yours.'

If the foolish woman wanted him, he'd already given himself to her. The ticklish brush of her hair claiming his wrist made him smirk against her mouth, glimpsing his own band of white around hers and revelling in a plume of possessive pride.

Perhaps it was unorthodox by her standards, but they were not exactly normal themselves. And so, Sesshoumaru drowned himself in the curious, raw newness of the strange miko, surrendering to all the oddities that would likely follow during their strange courtship.

End

[floralseokjin]

Sandeul finds out 

⇢ memoirs of a mistake timeline 

[saga index] [drabble index]

kim seokjin x reader // suggestive // 1,308 words 

“Okay. I need to go home,” you sighed, rolling onto your front to reach over the side of his bed for your underwear. He was pretty sure it was there anyway. He’d ripped it off in such a rush, he couldn’t quite remember. “I have to ace this test tomorrow.” 

“Sorry. Did I keep you?” Sat up now, you glanced over at him as you clipped your bra around your back, catching the smug smirk across his face, only to his surprise today you didn’t feel like chewing him out. Maybe it was those three orgasms he’d given you this afternoon... 

“Trust me. I’d rather spend my time doing this.” 

He watched you stand up, wrestling on your jeans, your boobs jiggling about. If he wasn’t so beat he was sure his dick would start stirring again. He was weak when it came to your body – just you in general actually. 

“Oh yeah?” He was only in his boxers, still laying on his bed. 

He caught you checking out his chest but didn’t say anything. Hoody over your head now, your muffled voice told him off. “Don’t get cocky.” And then he could see you again, grinning his way. He liked it when you grinned. You’d been doing it a lot more around him recently, which he took as a good sign. 

“I’ll see you in a couple days? Recovery time, right?” You asked. Ever since you’d began having sex at his place and not his car, the frequency had tripled – if that was possible. You’d rush over as soon as Sanduel wasn’t home, making the most of the free time. (Although, you liked to call it secret time, but whatever.) 

“Sure. Don’t want him to drop off.” He looked down at his crotch as he spoke. 

Even though he couldn’t see you, he just knew you’d rolled your eyes. “No third person.” It weirded you out but he just found it hilarious. “Sorry,” he apologised quickly. He didn’t want to push his luck. Oddly enough, he thought you two had some sort of friendship developing right now…

He watched you shove your sneakers on and stood up, finding his sweatpants hanging off the bed where he’d yanked them off in a bid to get inside you as quick as possible. “Hey. I’ll walk you out.” 

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows slightly raised in shock. “You don’t have to.” 

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled. “Well, I’m not going to let you see yourself out, am I?” 

Your face lit up as you laughed along and he felt a twang inside his ribcage. He hoped he wasn’t getting heart burn… “Oh, gentleman. Bang me and then bid me goodnight at the doorstep.” 

He carried on chuckling, not bothering to put on a shirt as he walked towards the door.  “Don’t forget dine you too.” Cup ramen and sandwiches went down a treat. 

Walking out of his room and across the short distance of the hallway that opened up into the living room, you following closely behind, the colour from his face drained when he spotted his best friend stood awkwardly between the sofa and the chair. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Sanduel greeted, eyes wide when he saw you pop out from behind Seokjin’s back. He felt you freeze, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He was a mass of panic and dread. You hadn’t wanted anyone to know, you’d been very clear on that, and now look… you’d been caught red handed.  

“Sandeul,” he said, voice painfully tight. 

“Hey,” his friend repeated. The air was suddenly stuffy. Seokjin had a horrible feeling the tips of his ears were red. 

“Hi.” He heard you say – to his surprise. 

To Sandeul’s surprise too. His eyes jumped to your figure and he forced himself to smile. “Hi.” 

Seokjin wanted the ground to swallow him whole everything was so awkward. He felt you turn to look at him. “I’m just, uh, gonna go.” 

He forced himself to look at you finally, nodding his head way too hastily. “Yeah, uh…” 

“See you,” you rushed, and off you went, nodding in Sandeul’s direction awkwardly as you passed him. 

“Yup. See you.” The click of the front door as you shut it echoed inside Seokjin’s head, and then his best friend was ogling him – wanting answers. 

“I’m very confused.” 

“Fuck sake,” Jin groaned, running his hand through his hair. This wasn’t good. 

“That wasn’t real,” Sandeul shook his head. “None of this is real.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Suddenly, he was on the defensive. 

“Just how?” Sandeul was baffled. “I imagine she wasn’t in there to help you study considering you don’t share any classes together.” 

“No, you’re wrong. We had to study the anatomy of the naked body,” he smirked. 

“Fucking hell, dude,” Sandeul exclaimed. “She is so out of your league.”  

“Is not.” Now he was really offended. “We’re on par.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jin.” 

“Hey man, don’t be a dick.” 

His best friend laughed. “I’m not. See?” He paused to clap. “I applaud you. But she did kinda run off when she saw me.” 

“She had to go,” Seokjin mumbled. “just don’t tell anyone about this, okay? We want to keep it quiet.” He sounded obviously desperate. 

“We?” 

“Yeah, we. It’s a thing we have going on.” He shrugged. “It’s going really well.” 

“Huh? You’re together?!” Sandeul’s volume emphasised his shock. 

“No!” How had he jumped to that conclusion? “We’re just hooking up. A lot.” 

Sandeul used his hands to mimic his brain exploding. “Mind. Blown.” 

“Remember, don’t tell anyone.” His eyes were wide. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if only Sandeul knew? The sex was so good, you couldn’t just end things because one person knew about it… Right? He was sure he could convince you it was all okay, because well, it was okay. 

“As if anyone would believe me anyway,” Sandeul laughed. “You’re secret’s safe with me. She seemed to be very into you, so who am I to judge?” 

Seokjin felt his cheeks heat up at his best friend’s insinuation, despite feeling smug about it… Yes, he’d heard you both have sex, which was sort of weird, but it was good to get confirmation that you were into him… 

Walking back into his room, he picked up his phone to call you immediately, only to see you’d already tried the same. 

1 Missed Call (6 minutes ago)

He sighed to himself and hit redial, psyching himself up. He couldn’t let you end things. You just about had enough time to say his name before he was rushing in. “Hey. Before you say anything, Sandeul is keeping it a secret, okay?”

There was silence on the other end. After a moment, you spoke. “Are you sure? How do you know?” You didn’t sound mad, just hesitant. 

“I asked him to.” 

He didn’t like the sound of your small, unsure sigh. “Seokjin, I don’t know about this –”

“He’s my best friend, I trust him.”

Another silence, plus a heavy breath. “Fine.” 

“Really?” He couldn’t hide the shock from his voice. 

“Yeah.” 

He was a little lost for words, not expecting that to have been so easy. He’d been so sure you’d want to stop hooking up… “So, we’re okay?”

“Yes, we’re okay,” you chuckled. “I don’t know him, but I know you and I trust you, so…” 

“You trust me?” Now he sounded smug. 

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

“I won’t.” It was time to behave again. 

He heard you groan. “How long do you think he was there for?” 

He chuckled lightly. “I don’t know but I’m pretty sure he heard us…”

“Noo,” you groaned louder. “I can’t come to your place again.” 

“Hold up, you have too.” He insisted with a whine. “I can’t go back to fucking in that car again. Please.” 

Written 2021.   Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[personasintro]

blue side | jhs drabble

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; you see your ex at your friend's wedding, awakening some feelings at the simple sight of him

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨; hoseok x reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, little bit of angst, exes to lovers au

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.3k

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: strong language, mentions of sex

𝘢/𝘯: requested, I came to the conclusion that I can't write short drabbles they always get longer than I want them to be

It’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful and charismatic he looks.

Two years is a long time since you’ve personally seen him, even though you got a brief glimpse into his life through stalking his social media. In your defense, it’s only occasional whenever you feel weak and curious about his life. Fair to say, it’s not something you’re proud of.

Fortunately, your ex-boyfriend keeps his Instagram account public, which makes it easier for you to look through his profile every now and then. He keeps most of his life private, even though his account is public, but he still shares a fair amount of pictures which describes his personality. Most of them are pictures of food, him in the distance where you can barely make out his face and a few snaps of the sky. Personally, the picture of his hand holding a cup of coffee with his name written on it, is your favorite. The silver watch and veins disappearing underneath, what seems like an elegant shirt, has something to do with it.

From what you remember, he doesn’t post often, sometimes goes even three months without posting anything. It sounds creepy, but you’re sure most exes do shit like this.

And you haven’t stalked his Instagram, or any social media, ever since you found out he’s going to your friend’s wedding. It’s understandable. It’s your mutual friend who invited you both, little did you know Hoseok would bring his ass from Japan back to South Korea. You’re just being bitter, of course he’d come to Namjoon’s wedding. But considering Japan and the work offer that broke your relationship was so important to him, the thought of him actually coming here never crossed your mind.

It kind of hurts that he came to Namjoon’s wedding, left his precious Japan, but couldn’t do the same thing for your relationship. No matter how many times you’ve told yourself not to think about it, you just couldn’t but feel anger boiling inside of you. Or maybe it’s the sight of him, noticing how freaking good he looks in suits. His hair seems to be darker than the light brown he was sporting when he broke your heart. He’s glowing, his eyes crinkling exactly the way you remember, showing a full set of teeth as he quickly covers his mouth before his loud voice erupts in the ballroom. His face seems to be chubbier, not in a bad way though. He looks healthy, another thing that irritates you, even though your brain screams at you.

It’s been two years.

Of course he moved on and lives his life.

What have you expected? Him looking miserable?

Yet, you don’t feel any hatred towards him. Yes, he’s someone who’s painful to watch, especially when it brings all the months of trying to put yourself together right back. However, you haven’t been living badly. It’s not like your whole world revolved around him, even though he was the only man you truly ever loved. Deep down, you know he’s not a bad person. It’s just the pain of knowing he chose a carrier life instead of you. That’s what hurts to this day.

And when somehow, your group of friends pushes you to the circle of his, there’s no escape other than to be met with him face to face. During the actual ceremony, you sat far away to even notice him, even though you tried extremely hard to stare at the bride and groom. But now, when your eyes glance at his own, you find him already staring at you. A very cautious greeting leaves his mouth first, as the true gentlemen he always presented himself as, and a very dry greeting comes out of you before you can even try to fake a certain kind of politeness.

Before the atmosphere could become any more awkward, one of your friends starts to chat, gaining everyone else’s attention. They all catch up, as you silently pray for them not to ask you a question about your life. The last thing you want to do is to share it with Hoseok. It’s not like you’re ashamed of your life, or care too much about what he thinks and if he knows about it, but it feels uncomfortable.

Silently sipping on the pink champagne is a better idea, while you politely listen to anyone that’s talking, giggling when it’s needed but your mind drifts elsewhere. With each sound Hoseok’s mouth makes, is like a wave of nostalgia and nausea hitting you at the same time. He affects you and your heart, despite of those two years of not having him in your life, like it never happened.

“How’s work, Hoseok-ah? I’ve heard you got promoted. Congrats man!” Taehyung, one of Hoseok’s friends, speaks up sipping from his own champagne as he gently slaps his shoulder in a praise.

Hoseok’s lips stretch into a wide smile, looking down into his almost full glass, something you recognize as a hidden shyness. He has always felt shy as soon as someone complimented him for his hard work. Despite of his reaction, he has felt a huge appreciation to whoever gave him a few words of praise or encouragement. He’s just too hard on himself, well, he used to be. It’s not like you know him. A lot can change in two years. Even peoole can.

“Thanks,” he scrunches his nose, before he grins at Taehyung. “I got promoted just last week.”

He gets a round of happy gasps, another set of praise words which you just ignore by gulping all of your champagne. Maybe you should be less obvious, but you don’t really care. You can’t look at him, not when the topic of discussion reminds you of everything the two of you experienced together. You’re not a bitch. You don’t wish him to be sad and fail all of his dreams and achievements he has set for himself. But you’re also a living person, a human who’s not perfect with real emotions, and you do feel a sour emotion in your chest when you hear them talking.

For all you know, he might be over the moon that he got rid of you. In a way, you were just an obstacle that stood right between his dreams. You just thought three years of dating would’ve been more valuable to him. Maybe that’s what hurts the most.

“Wow,” you speak up, not even regretting it as you feel all the eyes on you, including his. “Congrats, Japan must be treating you right.”

It’s the damn champagne, the third glass you had and should’ve declined when that goddamn waiter offered it, that’s making you so blunt and outspoken. By the way Hoseok eyes you, he probably knows that by now. He’s watching you, and this time you don’t budge your eyes from his, stubbornly staring right back at him.

“What city was it?” The city you left me for. “Noho?” you ask with a fake interest, tilting your head to express it even more.

If not all of them, most of your and his friends, aren’t stupid and caught onto your tone and jabbing at your ex-boyfriend. The fact it’s in front of them all causes Hoseok’s smile to freeze as he clenches his jaw, still staring at you.

“Naha,” he drawls out, “It’s Naha.” he corrects you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Same thing,” you mutter, waving him off in disinterest but you still catch onto the way Taehyung’s eyes widen.

You notice him whispering something to the man next to him, before all of them just excuse themselves and walk away from the two of you. Your own friends betrayed you like that, not even glancing at you as you stare in disbelief at their backs.

“Why would they leave?” you mutter, trying to hide your shock and panic that rises inside of you.

What you don’t expect is, to Hoseok actually hear you and have the actual interest to answer.

“I think we all know why.”

Your head snaps his direction, eyebrows furrowed as he stares with the same intensity back. It brings you back to all your little arguments during the period when the two of you were dating — both of you are stubborn. The arguments were never too drastic or serious, you and Hoseok were just too stubborn to apologize or talk about it first.

Hoseok was acting like nothing happened, but he’d always snap back if you managed to get out a sarcastic remark. It would go back and forth, until he’d come to you just to cuddle you and whisper a soft apology in your ears. You did the same thing, making sure he knows you hate when the two of you fight about pointless stuff. Your relationship was far more important than Hoseok forgetting to buy groceries or not picking up his dirty clothes off the floor.

He’d kiss you all over your face, covering every inch of your skin with his soft lips to prove his apology, until he’d make love to you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear for the whole time. You knew how serious and sorry he is about the whole situation, especially when he buckled his length into you with gentle and swift movements, making sure you feel every inch of him as he slowly rubs your walls. Even thinking about it makes your cheeks flush, it’s like you can’t still feel his pillow like lips on your own, yet it seems distant and foreign.

Looking back at him, his tense expression relaxes as if he just changed his mind to say something else, and asks a simple question instead. So simple, that it leaves you breathless.

“How have you been?”

You want to be angry at him so bad, but when you’re met with those brown eyes that look nothing but friendly and warm, you can’t bring yourself to be mad or annoyed. Still, you hold your head high with a sour tone behind your words.

“Great,” you inform him, too intensely for your opinion, but it doesn’t matter. “I’ve been great.”

Maybe the huge effort of trying him to believe you is what makes your stomach clench in a discomfort, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you. Like he sees right through your little white lie, but then you’re remembered. This is Hoseok, Jung Hoseok, who knows you like the back of his hand. Or used to know you. You haven’t changed much, you’re still the same person, just with a broken heart.

“That’s good,” he drawls out, and you mentally curse at yourself for trying to sound too happy. He clearly doesn’t believe you. “Are you still with that guy?”

And just like that, Hoseok leaves you breathless and knocking all the air out of your lungs again.

It took you some time to dive into the dating life again. It’s not something you were looking for, it’d be stupid while another guy was constantly on your mind. It’d be unfair to your potential future boyfriend, or just a guy you went on a casual date with. So you waited, it took you a year before you were introduced to a guy by one of your closest friends.

Tim is her colleague, a very charming and polite man, that you were dating for four months. Four months full of amazing dates until you broke it off. As much as those dates where adventurous and amazing, enough for your mind to shut Hoseok out off it, it felt like your relationship wasn’t going anywhere. Yes, maybe four months were a short period of time to do such a drastic decision, but you just weren’t feeling it. It was better to break it off with him before he caught serious feelings, not that you don’t think he wasn’t serious about you. He was, he just deserves a better woman who’s going to love him much more than you ever did.

But you kept your relationship private on social media, not that you were trying to hide him. Not at all. You didn’t post any pictures with him on your Instagram account, it wasn’t nothing intentional. You just never took that many of them.

And still, Hoseok knows about Tim, or at least that you were dating someone. And he calls him ‘that guy’.

“How do you even know that?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at him.

He’s the least person to talk about something. The beautiful brunette on one of his photos is the exact proof of it.

“Just because I lived in Japan, it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. We’ve got a mutual friends, Y/N.”

By the usage of your name, your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at him with doe eyes before an annoyed expression crosses your features.

“Mutual friends,” you scoff, “You mean Namjoon.”

It’s evident Namjoon is the one who spilled beans about your only relationship after you and Hoseok broke up. And for a moment, Hoseok’s eyes widen by the realization that you figured it out, even though it wasn’t anything hard to realize.

“We’ve got more mutual friends.” he reminds you dryly, trying to save the situation but you only chuckle in response.

“Namjoon is the only one who keeps talking with the both of us on a daily basis,” you remind him back, causing him to just sigh in defeat knowing there’s no point denying it. “And no. I’m not with that guy. And his name is Tim.”

He visibly widens his eyes at that, before he nods. “Good,” His eyes widens one more time, coughing before he speaks again. “I mean--not good, I thought--“

You raise your brow, trying not to snort at his blubbering and nervous state. You don’t ask him about his love life, the possible answer might not be what you were looking for.

“I get it, you don’t have to, y’know, be a stuttering mess.” you point out, the tip of his ears reddening as he nods awkwardly in response.

There’s a silence for a moment, your hands sprawled against the silk silver material of your dress on your thighs. You look away from him, not having the heart to look at him for any longer, and as you open your mouth to excuse yourself, he opens his own.

“Can we talk?”

You hide the shock, shoulders tensing as you look up at him. “We’re talking.” you tell him slowly, noticing the different glint in his eyes.

Oh, shit. He wants to talk. Not just a casual awkward talk between exes.

“You know what I mean,” he says, the slightest cringe making its appearance on his face, almost as if he's hurting. “I miss you.” he confesses, completely surprising you as he looks alarmed.

“You what?” you ask slowly, not believing you just heard him saying that he misses you.

“I miss you.”

He doesn’t miss a chance to say it again, this time with more confidence and if there was one of the waiters passing by, he’d ask for the whole bottle of wine to chug it down. He’s been embracing himself to talk to you ever since he decided to go to Namjoon’s wedding, knowing you’re invited and going.

“Why are you telling me this?” you breathe out, unsure of what to say.

But your heart says it all when it beats faster, appreciating how those three words sounded from his mouth with that silky and raspy voice. Is he drunk? Why is he telling you such a thing after two years of not communicating with you? On the other hand, he looks completely sober and serious as you see the determination behind his eyes that used to shine with gentleness and joy.

“Because it’s true.” he murmurs, his eyes solely set upon you.

“No, I mean-- why are you telling me this after two years?”

“Because I’m an idiot and it took me two years to realize that my life isn’t what I wanted it to be, if you’re not in it.”

You finally understand the term when someone says ‘it hit me like a bucket of cold water’ — that’s how you feel right now.

“What are you saying? You just can’t come here after such a long time and tell me all those stuff! What do you expect me to do? Welcome you with open arms?”

If he’s embarrassed by the sudden raise of your voice that would catch other’s attention sooner or later, he doesn’t show it and looks at you like a kicked puppy on the street instead. He expected your reaction be like this, he knows you and it doesn’t matter how much time has passed. You haven’t changed and if he could, he’d be the one embracing you with open arms even through your sudden outburst.

“No, I wasn’t expecting any of that,” he tells you, outstretching his hands in peace, or to calm you down, you’re not sure which one it is. “I came here because of you.”

At that, you snort and scoff right after as you stare at him with a raised brow. “Oh please, this is Namjoon’s wedding. Of course, you’d come if the time and your job would allow you to.”

“I wasn’t about to come. Yes, Namjoon invited me and I told him that I won’t probably make it. I don’t know what came over me but I asked him if you’re coming,”

“You asked him if I was coming?” you chuckle, Hoseok’s face cringing by the bitterness behind your tone.

“I was asking him about you all the time.” he admits quietly, eyes scanning your face as you let his words to sink in.

You know Hoseok barely lies, his ears get all red and you can see the frustration on his face right away if he does. But there’s none of it, straight honesty thick in his voice and determination mixed with sadness on his handsome glowy face.

“Why?”

It’s a simple question, yet you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before he opens his mouth.

“Because I couldn’t stand the fact that I don’t get to see you or hear your voice. I messed up. I fucked up so bad by leaving to Japan, by leaving you. I thought I was doing the best thing for me but I was wrong. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t believe I was fucking stupid enough to let you go.”

All the emotions that were buried inside of you makes your hands tremble as you try to clutch them in your hold. The tears are brimming in your eyes but you blink them away, staring at Hoseok who looks just as painful.

“Stop, you can’t say things like--“

“Why can’t I? I know this may not be a good time or place, but I had to get it off my chest. Seeing you right now--I just couldn’t wait.” he cuts you off, but still offers a weak smile in apology when he sees your deep frown.

You’ve always hated whenever he interrupted you, it makes your heart jump over the fact he remembers.

“What do you want me to do? You’ve hurt me, Hobi.” you murmur, happy your voice didn’t crack.

He stutters over his words, eyes widening before he looks down in a shame. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t blame him for choosing his career life, you’ve always known how important it is for him to prove himself to his parents. And you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. Although, it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he told you he’s got a new job opportunity in Japan. He expected you to move there with him, but you couldn’t. And when you’ve told him that, he ended things with you. It was mutual, and the most hurtful thing you’ve ever experienced.

The memories of you crying yourself to sleep, pillow damped with your tears are so fresh, that it almost hurts just thinking about it.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you want me to leave, I will. If you don’t want to see me ever again, you won’t have to.”

Something about how he talks about you not having to see him ever again makes your heart crack. “I don’t hate you, Hobi.” you tell him quietly, watching a hope crossing over his features.

“You don’t?”

“Of course not,” you try to muster a smile, “I could never hate you, no matter how hurt I was. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do. This is so all of a sudden. Aren’t you living in Japan?”

“Not anymore,” he answers, smiling when he sees your confusion. “I’ve quit.” he shrugs, causing your eyes to almost buldge out.

“Quit? But you just told Taehyung that you got promoted.”

“I did, but I declined the offer. I just didn’t know what to say, I didn’t think he’d bring it right in front of you,” he explains, causing you to chuckle when he scratches the back of his head in a mere embarrassment. “I’m moving back to Korea and I’ve got a few job offers already.”

You nod, confused how joyful your heart feels at the new information.

“What’s your plan then?” you cough.

“To win my girl back,” He doesn’t waste a minute, answering your question right away while you almost choke yourself on your spit. “I mean... if you let me to.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stutter, shaking tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You caught me off guard.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand we can’t go back to what we used to have, nor I expect that from you. I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” he smiles sadly at you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“I’m not angry at you,” you tell him, causing him to smile and nod. “I’ve missed you too.” you admit, noticing how big his eyes look.

“You have?”

With a slow nod, you’re shocked when your body is enveloped in a strong arms, your face pressed into his suit as the scent of his fragrance hits your nose. You recognize it immediately, it’s the one you complimented him so many times, causing him to use it all the time. His arms are strong, yet gentle around your frame as you smile into his chest when you feel a soft peck into your hair. He apologizes under his breath, whether it was for the innocent kiss into your hair or just in general, you just shake your head and hug him back. It feels nice to feel him again, not be in his arms.

And even though, you’ve no intention of going back to dating him right away, you know what your heart pleads for. It’s him. It’s always been him, and being so close to him right now just proves it. It proves that even after those two years, you still love him.

He softly pulls away, hand itching to caress your cheek but he stops himself in midway which makes you blush.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, tone cautious and insecure about your possible answer.

It makes you smile, wanting to squeeze his cheeks and kiss those pouty lips. When he sighs, ready to apologize and tell you to forget about it, it feels like you know exactly what’s on his mind. So you interrupt him before he can utter a single word.

“Yeah, I am.” you answer, grinning at him which causes him to open his mouth in shock.

“Y-you are? Yeah, okay. Is coffee okay?”

He clearly thought your answer would be the opposite, and it makes you giggle at his distressed face.

One thing he probably doesn’t know, is that no matter what he’d propose would be the perfect idea for you.

“Coffee’s perfect.” you answer, causing him to visibly sigh in relief as he touches his chest, exactly where his heart is.

Giggling, you lick your lips as he smiles down at you with adoring lips.

“Can I have the dance?” he stretches out his arm for you, causing you to groan which he laughs at.

He knows you hate dancing, especially when he’s so good at it. It makes you look like a total fool. But still, you don’t miss the opportunity to be close to him again, as soft classic music fills the whole room. You place your hand into his and nod in response, causing him to hesitate before he kisses the back of it, your heart screaming at you as you smile at him.

He leads you to the dance floor, one hand placed in yours while the other one holds your waist in a soft and gentleman manner. As you both start to dance, letting your bodies move into a slow and sensual music, both of you don’t look away. You stare at each other, with Hoseok licking his lips and you biting your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to taste them. But as the gentlemen that Hoseok is, he doesn’t make a move even when you press yourself closer to him.

And when he chuckles at your attempt to get closer to him, he holds you even tighter as he stares lovingly down at you.

It takes you a few minute of dancing, before both of your mouths are pressed together, kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

In the distance you hear all of your and Hoseok’s friends cheering for the two of you, both of you are too busy making up for those two years. However, you still have a long way to go, and you’re getting that coffee tomorrow.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.