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#they were doomed from the start bc they met at the wrong time
microwaving-my-ocs · 2 years
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this story is turning into FL x brainwashed ex-fiance. fantastic.
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cashmakozume · 3 months
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— seeing double
ᯓ m.list
␥ introductions (twin telepathy)
⭑.ᐟ warnings: swearing, sibling fights, characters saying 'kms', harsh banter
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kageyama yn
— a first year film production major, constantly competing to make sure she graduates with honours
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"you want to be partners for this? no thanks, i can score on my own."
kageyama tobio
— a first year music major, stealing hearts with every song he releases
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"my songs sound good? that means a lot to me."
hinata shoyo
— a first year sports psychology major, somehow passes every module despite skipping classes to sleep away the party fatigue
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"ooo, there's a party? count me in."
sugawara koushi
— a third year communications major, wants to fucking quit but it's his last year so he has to thug it out
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"can i just pay somebody to write this essay? yeah yeah, i'll use my brain."
kuroo tetsurou
— a third year marketing major, believes that he is just learning methods of manipulation
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"wanna bet i'll sell this place out? get your wallet ready."
hitoka yachi
— a first year visual communication major, second guessing all her assignments but scoring every single time
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"wait did i read the brief wrong? i think i'm right though."
the groupchats
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彡 sugawara grew up being neighbours with the twins, and they look up to him as a older brother (miwa treats him like he's part of the family)
彡 yachi lives at home with her mother, not wanting to leave her alone (also bc she can help her with her assignments but don't tell her lecturers)
彡 yn loves to attend her senior's short film premieres, so sugawara introduced her to kuroo who proudly took charge of all the marketing for the student films in school.
彡 yn edited all their contact pictures to have ribbons bc she feels like it's cute
彡 yn journals to procrastinate her school assignments and gave all of them a scrapbook to start journaling
彡 sugawara only has one page filled and it's just demonic drawings bc he felt a sense of impending doom after hearing an email notification from school
彡 all the first years met during the orientation camp they had over the holidays, and they clicked right away (sugawara and kuroo were somehow part of the committee that ran the camp)
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miyako talks
— how are we feeling about this!! it adds so much character to them and i feel it rounds them out more!! let me know your thoughts!
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𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ taglist [open]
— @staygoldsquatchling02 @garfieldissocool @krak-jj @yuminako @punkhazardlaw @lacunaanonymoused @bbybibi @spikeandset @theviperess @whosmarjj @froyaoya
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browzerhistory · 10 months
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anyways Personally i don't think it's possible to meaningfully separate the self from the body/world and thinking of them as independent entities can create serious issues in later lines of thinking.
i say this as someone who has several 'selves' (system) but all of us have been undeniably changed by our body and the environment it's in. we wouldn't be who we are now without the very specific conditions and events that shaped our bodies and personalities.
it can be argued whether someone is more predisposed towards certain traits and activities from birth, but even then, the way you're raised and how much access you're given to those activities, as well as how much you're allowed to express those traits, matter deeply in shaping the person you are.
it's why i struggle with "what if you were born a different sex/richer or poorer/in a different country/etc.?" type questions bc the answer you'll get from me is inevitably "the person in those circumstances would be so fundamentally different and unrecognizable when compared to me that i don't think it'd be fair to say they would still be me." you know?
take a relatively small example, like if my parents decided to enroll me in a different kindergarten than the one they did. i would never have swapped schools in elementary, which kicked off my anxiety disorder hardcore but also made me gain wonderful friends who i wouldn't trade for the world, and unique experiences that shape the way i adapt to situations today.
or say i went to physical (heavily masked) school during the 2020 school year instead of taking online courses. i probably wouldn't have fully split into a system and i wouldn't have missed my best friend's last year of attending the same school as me before moving away. but i also wouldn't have rediscovered one of my oldest, most beloved special interests, nor would i have met the short lived but wonderful community online that helped me realize i was trans.
what i'm trying to get at is that the popular concept of the Self or the Soul as this immutable, eternal force that drives a person's actions and is predetermined before they're born really doesn't line up with reality. not only in the context of how much your environment changes you, but how much you can change you. humans are creatures of habit, sure, but you can make and break habits with relative ease most of the time.
(i started crossing my z's in third grade because i thought it looked cool. i stopped listening to an artist i used to adore because he said some shit things and i've barely missed his music. lately i've been making an effort not to step on certain floor tiles in the hall just because. i know most things aren't this minor or easy to change, but it's just an example.)
as far as theories on the self go, mine is a pretty easy one to spiral on. especially since, before i started thinking harder about it, i thought there was this Special Thing that made me Me and no one could take it away, so when i considered the possibility of my me-ness not being inherent to my existence, it freaked me out.
but as i thought about it more, i found the thought really... comforting, somehow? maybe it's because i'm trans and a system but the idea that there's the True You you have to want to be (and if you're not then something is wrong with you) feels really restricting. people are always changing, even moment to moment. it's not a bad thing to be constantly changing, that's just what being alive is like.
which brings me to another point (that i probably should've made earlier but whatevs) that also lines up pretty well with my political views: nobody is doomed to be a bad person forever, even if they've done bad things in the past. (i could make a whole other essay on the ways punitive justice just Doesn't work and how annoying it is to see in leftist spaces all the time, but i'll breeze past it for the sake of this post not becoming a novella.) my point here is that while yes, vengeance and punishment for harmful actions does feel great and can very occasionally help, the sustainable and humane way to approach harm is through restorative justice and rehabilitation (for lack of a better word).
nobody is born evil and nobody is doomed to be evil and hurt everyone forever. this is true both in the sense of restorative justice, where the person who did the harmful action(s) can be trusted and expected to change their behavior, and in the more personal "you are not bound to suffering for all your life" sense. if you break your arm, do you set the bone or cut the whole limb off?
the concept of the self, when wielded as a tell-all unchanging revelation of a person's "true nature of violence/harm" can be and is used against already marginalized and oppressed groups to justify that oppression. this is a more political gripe, sure, but it's one of the reasons i think my theory holds up better. saying "people can't change if they've done bad things..." is a very good way to get people to accept "...so anyone who does a bad thing should be locked up forever/socially isolated/killed/etc."
idk. it's probably a Capitalism thing - something something making a product of yourself and products have to be consistent - but the attachment to a One True Self really grinds my gears in a way that i haven't been able to put into words until recently.
i understand the desire to have something that makes you fundamentally You no matter what, but the way i see it, it'd take one tiny change in your past to turn you into a completely different person. that doesn't mean you're not real or that nothing you do matters, it just means the world is as much a part of you as you are of it. it's worth thinking about sometimes.
(also please talk to me about this more i could go on for hours about the idea of the self and our relationships to our bodyminds and etc)
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songtwo · 2 years
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for years i would beat myself up thinking i had made all the wrong choices - wrong school, wrong city, wrong career and there was no way i could've possibly controlled that but i would just wish i had been born someplace else that wasn't as fucked up as it is here and the future terrified me bc there was nothing clear about it and around me things just seemed to get worse and worse. then around mid summer 2022 i started to accept things as they were and even though i was not happy or content i knew I couldn't stay that way so I started making peace with the good things - my mom, my pets, being able to go to school and living in a city that was a little less awful than others. and this is not in a law of attraction live laugh love manifest girlboss etc kind of way but soon afterwards things started looking up. i got an internship at a record label, i met the love of my life and applied for my current job as a music journalist - all within the span of one month. and from then on life has just been wonderful. I'm starting to achieve my dreams and i finally feel loved and seen and overall it's been perfect.
so again this is not in a live laugh love kind of way i think me being trying to be positive and good things starting to happen was a coincidence but the point is: for the longest time i thought and even hoped i would die before 23 and i genuinely believed i was doomed to live a miserable and lonely and meaningless life and now my dream life seems more possible everyday and i hope i get to live until 95 and im the happiest I've ever been. so i think what I'm trying to say is things eventually do get better. it will take years and it will feel like forever but it does get better and its like when rainer maria rilke said life has not forgotten you!!! it might take 21 years or 30 or more and life might take unexpected turns and everything will feel hopeless but i really do believe things will turn out okay eventually and there is nothing u can do but hold on and stay strong and it's so cliche and annoying but it is true and there is always art and hot beverages and loved ones to hold your hand and keep you company while you wait for the sun to shine again
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inkofamethyst · 2 years
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November 11, 2022
I actually did the worst on my open book popgen exam lol (not that it mattered anyway).  I’m in a good place grade-wise, I think.
You know, all of these programs conveniently leave out the fact that not only do you have to submit a personal statement, but you have to also write four, five, six other little essays on random (they’re related) topics.  Like,,, HUH.  I just thought I’d pop in with a quick “boy howdy I wanna be a scientist, a woman in stem, a personified bunsen burner” and then be met with a round of applause and a stipend but apparently that’s not enough these days.
Also some of my apps are asking about my sexuality and that was definitely not a thing four years ago and like idk I know some ace folk feel like they fit in the queer community and that’s totally fine and I love my little hahaheehee’s on acetok but putting it in writing (yes, I recognize the irony considering the nature of this blog)???  FIRST of all I don’t know if this is real or if it’s purity culture-induced guilt.  I could get married and it all falls away and suddenly you’ve got a sexual being on your hands (one in need of therapy tho bc I’ve heard it’s a difficult switch to make).  SECOND what if it changes.  I dunno I just.. there is no truly permanent sense of self and.. ugh.  I mean I could say I’m aro/ace and they’ll be like “wow so she won’t be distracted by boys she’s a safe bet” but what they don’t know is that I’ll be distracted by everything else.
On a lighter note, listen.  I get it, LMM maybe wasn’t at all what we were expecting from Hermes.  I love the jokes, I think they’re silly because, ultimately, that man is a dork.  A theatre kid (who makes pretty bangin music ngl).  All adult theatre kids deserve ridicule.  No exceptions.  Obviously I want him to do well because I want the show to be good and I trust Rick.  I love the silly jokes, but I feel a little bad bc we’re circling back to that time on tiktok when Hamilton had just been released on D+ and everyone was watching it and making fun of the guy even though he wasn’t doing anything except loving being on stage.
And, breaking news, it turns out that I may not get into that education class after all which kind of sucks.  I have to wait until the start of next semester to see if the section has seats available at which point anyone will be able to register.  Until then, I’m registered for a greek art class in its place.
Lastly, it’s surprisingly easy to slip into supporting eugenics and I blame this on the fact that geneticists find eugenics to be so abhorrent and such an uncomfortable part of the discipline’s history that it’s rarely actually discussed or taught.  And this is the same problem with minimizing slavery or the holocaust or the treatment of indigenous Americans.  Those who do not learn and critically consider history are doomed to repeat it.  Scientists have an ethical responsibility to go beyond providing data.  They must nip misinterpretations in the bud by addressing the context of their work.  We read an article (more like a saga of articles, it was the scientific equivalent of a fight over twitter) in popgen which got me completely wired by the way that it used eugenics rhetoric without addressing that issue explicitly, and that feels so much more irresponsible than saying your a eugenics advocate outright (my prof had to assure me that the author was not, in fact, a eugenics guy).  I just... science doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and we live in an age where information is readily available to any person at any time.  Scientists need to keep that in mind and consider the social ramifications of their work, especially if it relates to humans.  Neutral science does not exist!!  We’re all influenced by the context in which we are raised!!  Anyway, back to the original point, eugenics should be taught sensitively in science classes so that people understand a) how to detect the warning signs of a budding eugenics-based argument and b) why they’re wrong to begin with.  Only then can we civilly discuss issues like how to mitigate the problems of the (fairly theoretical to begin with) human genetic load or whatever.
Today I’m thankful for the walks promenades I took last night and tonight!!  It was decently warm and I just needed to blow off some steam (we’re a mere week into daylight savings and I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate how sunset starts at 2 pm I hate how I feel down more often now).  Plus CRC3E38 was released yesterday and I tore through that thing on my walks.  I’m thankful that there’s a big open area on campus where people often frequent so I feel safe walking at night.  I’m thankful that I, a patron of the arts, went to see an (free) a capella show tonight, a lovely and uniquely collegiate experience.  I’m thankful that my cello-friend liked my arrangement draft!!  Finally, I’m thankful that I know people who will straight up tell me who the red flags in my field of choice are because I was definitely unknowingly flying close to one.
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olivieraa · 1 month
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I've a busy few days ahead but can't start anything for another 3 so I'm wasting time by doing this for my own curiosity cause why not
so my abridged run-through with my niece continues, and I have a few opinions on the abridged series this time around
but before the opinions, I wanna figure out the timeline (not highly in depth, but partially, bc it'll still be a long post even without me going into depth).
2007-2008 - is when I believe the show started.
the channel itself was made in 2007, but ep 1 doesn't have its original date under it as it is a reupload. the reason I know is bc ep 31 says 2008, but eps 1-30 say 2009 which is obviously wrong. I do remember Konami or something kept getting LK's videos flagged.
oh and these eps during this time were uploaded weekly.
I think, and its not definite, that I may have started watching the show around the time when these eps came out:
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2010 - is when I personally got into the show. there's a CHANCE it was 2009, but I'm going with 2010 for simplicity's sake.
my life during 2010. I was just finishing up school and was about to move to our 6th house. I'd just turned 18 as well. I remember joking about the abridged in school with some friends. in fact, I skipped school a lot and chilled in a friend or two's house while we watched it, and then referenced it a lot. when I turned 18, I went to my first nightclub that night and on the dance floor, Bad Romance by Gaga came on and instead of singing "love love love I want your love" I sang "tush tush tush right on my tush" bc I'd honestly forgotten what the real lyrics were. I was even poking my friends ass. she liked my lyrics better (she had no idea what it was from tho lol). but yes 2 days later I moved away and began my first of my four years of isolation. the abridged itself, anime in general, online friends and tumblr became the winning combo for the following 3-4 years of my life, from 2010 (when I moved away) to 2014.
so I was online a lot for those years. I lived in nowhere land. imagine your house smack dab in this with one neighbour, as an 18 year old
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so yes, I was online a lot. I had time to be. I had time for anime.
still 2010 - the first time I can see a big gap are these eps from 2010 during the Noah arc (aka season 3 of both ygo and ygo abridged). 48 being ep 1 of the Noah arc
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48 - Aug 2010
49 - Sep 2010
50 - Nov 2010
51 - Apr 2011
so the first couple of Noah's arc eps were monthly, like usual. like how I always knew then. and then there was a bit of a jump 4 eps into Noah's arc at ep 51. but here's the thing... LK filled up a lot of space around this time with side videos. from song parodies, to the evil council of doom, to con promo vids, to just fun extras. majority of which I forgot about until right now
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I esp forgot about these, they defo need a rewatch
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but I'll wait till my niece is back over cause she'll definitely love that first one.
2011 - I met LK twice at two different cons during when those above Noah arc eps would've been coming out at that new slower pace, so I know he was at peak busy that specific year and the episodes were hotly anticipated at the time. so he really was doing his best. uploading not monthly anymore but still releasing fun vids in between, AND going to cons. plus like, his own personal life and issues to deal with. so it was all still steady going.
online wise for me after I'd moved, I was frequenting youtube the most to talk to people (and fanfiction for alone time lol). but mid or late 2011, I joined tumblr the same time as those youtube friends, so we chatted on here the most and youtube got lost in the abyss. and so during 2011, during my new tumblr time, ep 52 and 53 came out. and yeah, ygo was what my online friends and I found the most common ground in and that included the abridged series. the ygo fandom was growing on tumblr because of the abridged.
so ep 53 was in July 2011 but then a big gap happened and episode 54 was FEB 2012
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2012 - I met rp!Florence the exact next day, Feb 8th, so I'm thinking the release of this ep (LK's first ep in after a 7 month gap) inspired the decision behind making Flo? idk.
(so I now know, thanks to making this post, that when I was online in 2012 rping and shit, the Noah's arc was near ending. but also, it had completely stopped its monthly drop at this point, which I remember was annoying, y'know, rping with an abridged character who had to take more from canon!ygo than abridged!ygo bc there was so little to go on. the pro side of that tho, is that you'd get really excited when an ep did appear. more so than before. tumblr pm went like this
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so that above ep (54, Feb 7th) up to episode 58 were all done in 2012. almost like an ep was dropped per weather season. and I remember this one so well because
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I got a tonne of anon messages calling my Joey 'Susan' :')
so it went from weekly, to monthly, and then as of 2012, once every 4 months.
2013 comes along - and... the first episode of that year is in JULY, and the second and only other one in 2013 was September. again, this was during my constantly online rp time. so when they did drop, it really was like
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2013 had just two eps. that's it.
aaaaand... it's kind of been that way ever since. so I was right in thinking it was 2013 when the eps slowed down and became the official beginning of the rarely out eps. the past 10 years now LK will release just one or two eps a year. no side videos either, no con promos (idk if he goes to cons but he defo doesn't promo them), he did a bunch of Marik Plays Bloodlines but then stopped that and it hasn't been updated in 7 years. and he officially moved onto talking about wrestling and reviewing YGO GX.
and so here's how I feel.
first of all, the Noah's arc was out way earlier than I thought it was. I know it was still going in 2012, but I thought it started in 2012, when in actuality, it was going for 2 years, since 2010. during the time I was in school! I was shocked learning that. I also consider Noah's arc to be the worst arc, but I didn't think that while watching it back in the day, just upon rewatch
watching the show now in my 30's and passing it onto my niece (she's prob too young for it but she does love the kid friendly jokes, also she thinks I'm like Kaiba and she's Mokuba) it has a heavy nostalgic feel to it ofc. like I said, it was around during very specific times in my life, when it needed to be basically, and during the past 10 years, it became the "oh hey, a new ep just dropped on youtube" show that you don't think about UNTIL an ep drops. you're not waiting for it. it just appears. and when it does you're like :))) and you pick up from where you left off bc its easy enough to do without looking back on past eps bc its... well its a parody. there's no solid "plot"
to "review" it in a sense.... ok. in 2012... I was just happy to have an episode bc like I said, they weren't monthly anymore. and there was always something funny about them. whether it was one joke or four jokes. however, I didn't notice it then, but the quality dropped significantly (but luckily picked up by the end of 2012 and did eventually get better)
so where the bad starts imo... if you watch this episode (the last episode RIGHT before the Noah's arc, an early 2010 ep), its full of classic moments
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its highly quotable and its memorable. this could be due to LK's favouritism towards Marik so he puts his best jokes onto Marik like "use the celtic guardian aibouuu" to "a rhetorical WANKER" to "you tell 'em, honey!" and then the Stand By Me singing. its a v good, memorable ep.
ep 47, the first ep of Noah arc, follows it and it... just goes downhill. all of Noah's arc is quite bad, and the main problem I found while rewatching, was that the jokes were draaaaagged out. the penguin thing, the stairs thing, Tristan being a "funny guy", and lots more. it was annoying. and the additional voice actors weren't good either, with the exception of two of them sounding almost exactly like the dub voices, so I'll give them credit for that
now like I said, LK was at his busiest in 2011 (which would have been exclusively Noah's arc eps which are the worst eps), and it was straight after Noah's arc that he uploaded less frequently. and he was diagnosed with depression which probably affected him during this whole arc and so he basically knew, to give out the quality people wanted, he had to resort to taking more time for himself and uploading less. and for his health it was obviously the best decision, but even for his channel it was too.
so to repeat - end of 2012 saw the end of Noah's arc and I remember this ep dropping and everyone quoting it
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and also this one like I already said
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they still weren't LK's best but they were better. and the abridged was important to me in 2012 eps considering I had an abridged partner, so we were always happy to get new content.
this 2013 ep to me was the return of classic abridged
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it was so good that my friend at the time changed her username to one of the quotes from the ep. and why was it so good? bc there was a 7 month gap between this ep and the last, and like I said, uploading less frequently ended up working wonders for LK. he had time to plan it well.
2014 - end of season 3 (noahs arc and battle city combine. just 3 eps that year
2015-2018 - season 4
2019&2020 - nothing
2021-2025 - season 5, ongoing.
so anyone that has seen the original YGO knows season 5 has two parts. the grand champion ship part that nobody likes (14 eps), and the Egyptian arc which finally gives Bakura the spotlight (26 eps).
he is currently still in that first part, and has prob 3 more eps left of it.
so yes, he uploaded nothing in all of 2019 and 2020, which I honestly would've thought during the pandemic it would be the change he'd needed to be able to upload more frequently. but nope, it was all this instead
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he only returned then in 2021 and so far has released just 4 eps from 2021 to 2024.
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that Joey one being only a couple of months ago.
so its for sure at a super slow once a year pace.
ngl, I am curious about his mindset, but this stems from my own ignorance, and I'm sure with a bit of research (and profile stalking) I could probably figure out why its so rare. but I don't care that much despite this post. like I can say - why doesn't he upload a slight bit faster (nobody is out here waiting for an ep a month, but at least 3 eps a year?). or I can think - does he still think fans from 15 years ago are gonna stick with him to the end? does he think his fans are that die hard?
but again, being ignorant - idk how youtube works. idk how creators get paid. idk if he gets paid for the eps. idk if he gets paid more (or only) for non eps (and so therefore abd eps are the last things he wants to do bc no pay). idk if this is his job or he has a day job. idk what his current health status is. idk if he's still doing the eps just to finish the show or bc he actually likes doing it. idk how he views the fact that majority of old fans are prob not around anymore. idk if he's actually online all the time, just not on youtube.
I don't know.
I quickly checked just there and he's still frequenting twitter
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but also
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what
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there's drama in the abridged world????
I'm.................. so out of touch.
how active is the abridged fandom even. are they all gen z. are they all offended by the old jokes, I assume so tbh
I'm bewildered, don't care enough, but still curious
for another day I think........
BUT ANYWAYS. yeah, I just needed to waste time. this show was special to me at one point. never thought I'd be watching it with my 7 year old niece. she's addicted. she can't wait till bed time. this is her bed time story. Joey is her fave, so she was raised right. ...even if that's a different type of Joey it still applies.
I... think I'll be watching this show up until it ends. I'm not really a social media person. Im not subbed to many on youtube. but I never unsubbed LK so I see the eps drop randomly sometimes a year. and in another 10 years (I mean at this pace, probably) I'll most likely still be watching it. I'm generally smiling the whole time anyways
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Okay, so I finished BTLIO almost a day ago (ahem, at night) and still hasn't recovered.
Swallowed it up in one go, laid on my tear-drenched pillow.
Actually, I like how I knew they were doomed from the start but I kept trying to believe they might make it through djdhjdbs I like how you make me question the obvious outcomes. Right person, wrong time, wrong circumstances, I eat it up.
I dunno. This just feels very personal. Bc I've had a fair share of online friends in my life and with most of them I haven't talked for years and I can't even remember their names. I don't even remember what we talked about most of the time. But I'm grateful we stumbled across each other.
And like I have my uni friends now and I'm 99% this will go down the same path. We don't have any shared bond outside uni. I take this as philosophically (well, shared hatred for philosophy is one of our bonds) as I can and try not to dwell on it too much. Just enjoy our time as much as I can and not part on a bad note. Not all relationships aren't supposed to last long.
So like. You hit the bull's eye.
So this feels personal and like my fave fic of yours bc if how good you portray emotions and how logically it ties and–
Fuck u, I'm crying again. Thank u for it. Wish u inspiration for the upcoming fics in the series.
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hello Lys. Hi!!
Thank you so much 🥺🥺
Everyone knew these bitches were doomed from the start and yet I played yall lmao. Feeling very evil and fun right now sjsjsjsjssksk
But thank you for loving this fic. It’s sweet (in kinda sad way) that it resonated so much with y’all. I’m happy you all found yourself seen.
I hope you get to keep your online/uni friends after the uni ends. It’s a very difficult transition but I hope y’all can maintain the bond and love.
And it’s a nice thought, I guess, that even briefly, you met some people.
Thank you again, babygirl. 🥺🥰❤️🌈🌻
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1kook · 4 years
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BORN SINNER III
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→ MASTERLIST
summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k
banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons​ !! ty ty ty!! <3333
notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu​ *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3
in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series
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He gets your text the following Tuesday morning. 
Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver. 
It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else. 
From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work. 
He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone. 
[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰
[❤️]: after my last class of course
Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow. 
Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again. 
He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?
The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears. 
You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”
And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—
And of course, he had felt… something afterwards. 
This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning. 
First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?
But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good. 
(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)
From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life. 
He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you. 
It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands. 
You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word. 
You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him. 
But still. 
Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.
He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess. 
If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning. 
But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience. 
Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned. 
Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants. 
He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet. 
But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord. 
But he’s scared. 
Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you. 
And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character. 
But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t. 
His phone buzzes in his hand—
[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️
—and his decision is made. 
Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors. 
Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs. 
“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up. 
In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—
“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.” 
You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”
By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you. 
He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease. 
As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“
“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.
It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”
You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean. 
“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes. 
It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead. 
A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness. 
And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there. 
And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything. 
“__?” he says before he can stop himself. 
You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you. 
You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. 
Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?” 
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Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained. 
It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind. 
Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words. 
You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before. 
Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.
Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch. 
His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”
It sounds flimsy, even to you. 
“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”
You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.
His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.
Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him.  With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.) 
“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”
“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh. 
His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.
He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed. 
Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.” 
It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that? 
Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”
In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so. 
But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not. 
Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.” 
It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.” 
If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place. 
In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion. 
It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later. 
Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car. 
What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.
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Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his. 
But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?
“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“
“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.” 
And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly. 
Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out. 
There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different. 
It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you. 
Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you. 
And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity. 
The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up. 
By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his. 
Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content. 
All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you. 
By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that. 
But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long. 
You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm. 
It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back. 
“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”
Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open. 
He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. 
When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again. 
A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?” 
Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips. 
Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again. 
You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now. 
Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once. 
Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”  
And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in. 
He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t. 
Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms. 
“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?” 
Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough. 
By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”
Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist. 
He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him. 
But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl. 
The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple. 
Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror. 
The sight of him is… weird to say the least. 
Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface. 
That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down. 
In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side. 
Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck. 
Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day. 
Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close. 
You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday. 
It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips. 
It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself. 
“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him. 
His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?” 
It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him. 
The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”
And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.” 
His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space. 
Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“
His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin. 
You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 
Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you. 
But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it. 
It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress. 
It felt good.
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nulfaga · 3 years
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i would love some food (fun facts) about miss neneldi if you feel like sharing. i like her *holds my hands out like a poor orphan beggar*
Omg hiiiiii. ABSOLUTELY it would be my pleasure <3
Im terrible at itemized lists so for the record, this will devolve very quickly <3
so i created neneldi way later than orph, he dates back to like 2016ish and then around 2018 i was like how fun would it be if he just had an evil twin. Except the evil twin is actually talented and successful. And HER hubby gets to live. Anyway things have gotten more nuanced since then (orph's situation has gotten better and neneldi's situation is definitely not all sunshine & roses) but that's the germ of it
the reason i paired her with lucien at the start was 10000% spite. I was like yes i see all your willowy delicately unhinged (usually much younger) whitewoman listeners and i raise you a fat brown gnc woman whose loose screws are extremely not cute. (i was also very intentional abt not having her do the canon oblivion dbh questline—swerving around that weird teacher/student dynamic; she's an established speaker who came up in the brotherhood at the same time as him. that was all very much intentional.)
Anyway then i actually started thinking seriously abt what would be necessary for them to make an interesting couple (what shared history/backstory, and also how to flesh out luciens personality to complement hers. Or clash horrendously w/ hers. or both.)
Wait hold that thought. this has all been meta, let me actually say something abt miss neneldi herself. She grew up in a household where she was very much the black sheep...like her mother, father and brother are all just hearts on legs. Like super empathetic and emotional and warm and sensitive....i see neneldi as autistic so growing up in that environment was like—she was very much loved but her needs were not met at ALL.
Like case in point: she and Orpheus grew up (ages 5-14) in the imperial court and since their dad Talin was the eternal champion, there were always guests or chroniclers or Talins interregnum-era friends visiting from the other side of fucking tamriel. Or it's private tutors or extracurriculars or some other nonsense, like 24/7. And neneldi, who in her very early years was a perfectly calm (if not bubbly) child, begins to be constantly irritable and reclusive. Her parents tease her abt it, very gently, and ofc they love her regardless, but don't realize that the "irritability" is the sign of a child who's overwhelmed all the gd time like all the time. sensory wise, socially, emotionally.
the family moves out to anvil around 3E 409 (when the twins are 14), and things are slightly quieter, but the damage is pretty much done. As in. Neneldi has internalized the message of "im doomed to feel like shit all the time and my family either doesn't notice or won't help me" and her parents have settled into the mindset of "something's vaguely wrong with our daughter but we still love her very much" and orpheus has concluded "my sister is really mean."
so it's mostly this state of mind that defines the rest of her life (at least so far, i don't really know what all happens after like 4E 1). even once she begins to recognize and manage the things that set her off, and she has all the calm and quiet she could want, getting her to ask for help or explain what's upsetting her is like pulling teeth—bc she will have decided ahead of time that no one else is going to get it/be able to help, why waste her breath etc etc. it makes her tremendously self-sufficient but it also makes her very hard to get close to.
The way she joins up with the dbh—at sixteen—is very calculated but also an extremely teenagerish impulse. she'd taken an interest in alchemy from the age of like. twelve. so once in anvil she's constantly workshopping formulas, poisoning stray animals and the like—she has no friends in anvil (due to her "meanness" and poor social skills) and a beautiful supply line of obscure books from the imperial city. So she starts reading up on the dbh like really reading up, fictionalized dramas about sexy assassin guilds but also (alleged) accounts from anonymous members, even a copy of the dbh charter, five tenets and all. and there's like this constant undercurrent of FAMILY. looking at the world in a profoundly different way etc etc. And her in the throes of "my terrible life is forever no one loves me" and all that, just kind of books an inn in the next town over, poisons somebody (never really hashed out who or how. i used to be very fixated on making her likeable and justifying all her actions but nah i think she fully just picks a random target.) and goes to sleep in her best dress. and the rest is history lmao
she and lucien actually bicker a LOT about execution methods—which is funny, because while she's the one who joined voluntarily (his brush with the dbh was. entirely accidental), she has a loooot of scruples abt keeping her hands clean, everything going according to a strict plan etc etc. Meanwhile he's a fuckin silence of the lambs adrenaline junkie like yes vivisection yes dismemberment. Make a statement. He's not happy unless he's caught on the 18th floor of a legion watchtower, going toe to toe with an armored guardsman while wielding a shitty little beltknife and then risking everything to stay and prop up the dude's body in an appropriately ironic position. Bloody handprint mark of sithis etc etc. Style. Neneldi thinks he's out of his fucking mind (and he feels the same way abt her. love wins)
What else. Miss neneldi exists at a delicate intersection of asceticism and frou-frou. Like she takes no joy in cooking for herself and basically lives on cold water, cigarettes and black coffee. and as mentioned she's a very minimalist assassin. However. She absolutely hates the cold dank pits that the dbh seems to be obsessed with, she is always the first person to board over the walls with antique rosewood and install a useless hearth with no chimney that can only take magefire. Put up crushed velvet drapes that cannot possibly lead to a window. Etc.
ok I'm gonna leave it here for now because again bulleted lists very quickly slip from my hands but if there's anything else u want to know...;)
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baepsaesbae · 4 years
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Ethereal Encounters
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Pairing— Angel!Seokjin x Demon!reader  
Genre— Smut +18, comedy, light pining, supernatural au, angel au, demon au, time traveling (this was inspired by Good Omens by Neil Gaiman)
Warnings— oral (m and f receiving), explicit unprotected sex, death (but not really important), somewhat religious talk bc well they’re an angel and demon??
Word Count— ~6.3k
Summary— Since the early beginnings of mankind, you have been tasked with overseeing them and ensuring chaos befalls them. However, you meet an angel who has been tasked with the same duties, only obviously he’s supposed to ensure their wellbeing. How will you deal with him?
A/N— Happy Halloween everyone! This fic is part of @bangtanshadowfamily’s project Moonlight Manor. I had a blast writing this, please let me know what you guys think! Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for making such an angelic banner. 
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The story of Cain and Abel in the biblical Book of Genesis is well known by many throughout countless generations. The basic rundown is that Cain became jealous of Abel and murdered him. Tragic. However, what isn’t well known is that divine powers were involved. This was where it all started between you and him.
“How dare he. You’re the oldest son. You should have God’s favor,” you whispered into Cain’s ear.
As a high order demon, you were tasked with creating calamities for the stupid creatures that God loved oh so very much. What better way to ensure mankind would be doomed than introducing murder. Even better, the murder of ones own brother. Yes, your plan was ingenious.
“You need to gut him. Gut him like you would the animals you eat. God would have no choice but to cherish you instead,” you continued.
You started to feel the hatred swell within Cain. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his hunting knife. He marched out to the field where his brother was and struck him down. You watched all this transpire with a grin of satisfaction painted across your face.
“Oh no. It appears I’m too late,” you heard a disappointed voice behind you.
Whipping around quickly, you turn to see a defeated looking angel. He was quite handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and lips that formed the perfect pout. You despised him the moment you laid eyes on him. Of course, he’s in a corporeal vessel. His true form would be too much for any mortal to see, and they would combust on the spot. Your corporeal vessel was that of a woman. You figured it would make swindling humans easier later on.
“Who the hell are you?” you snarled.
“Me? Oh, I’m the angel Seokjin. I was sent by the higher ups to oversee the progression of mankind. I was told to make sure they weren’t led astray,” the angel rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Interesting. I was sent by my higher ups to make sure that mankind would be led astray,” you muse, “It seems that we have quite the conflict of interests.”
“It would appear so,” the angel had his eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“Well Jin--”
“That’s not my name. It’s Seokjin--”
“I don’t care. That’s too long.”
“Too long? It’s two syllables!”
“Who has that kind of time, Jin? Not me. Anywho, my work here is done. Since this place is under both of our jurisdictions, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” you gave the angel a wink before vanishing from the scene.
That was your first of many encounters with the angel Seokjin.
                                                        200 CE
The crowd roared with fervor as the gladiators fought to the death. You were one of the happy spectators watching a man get pummeled to death with the butt of a sword. As the man’s skull was caving in, you heard someone sigh beside you.
“There’s no need to be that cruel. He should cut off the poor fellow’s head and just end it already,” you heard a man say.
“That wouldn’t please this crowd at all. They’re all here because they want to see a spectacle. Chopping someone’s head off at the beginning of the fight would be sooo boring,” you turn to the disgruntled man, “I mean, you gotta pay to watch so--oh my god it’s you.”
The angel beside you was just as radiant as on the first day you met him. Even dressed in Roman apparel, you could tell there was something otherworldly about him. The angel returned the same shock as his eyes grew wide when they landed on you.
“You! You’re the one who started the downfall of man!” he accused.
“Well actually it was the snake that tempted Eve. I wish I could take credit for that. What have you been up to? Jin right?” you greet him as if he were an old friend, slinging your arm around him.
“Wrong. My name is Seokjin. I’ve been overseeing mankind. As I was instructed to,” Seokjin answered while trying to wiggle out of your grasp, “But it seems like no matter what I do, humans always resort to violence. You must be very good at your job.”
“They’re all shitbags like that. It makes my job so easy! I don’t even have to lift a finger,” you brag.
“There are some humans who have nothing but love and compassion for other living creatures--”
“Gross,” you interject.
“--so my faith in humanity is not lost. I think I’ve begun to realize why Father is so fond of them,” Seokjin rations.
“What’s your reasoning?” you inquire.
“Humans like to resort to violence quite often, like you said. But they also like to love and cherish those important to them. I think the free will that they have makes them remarkable,” Seokjin is lost in his own thoughts.
“An angel who has his own opinions? Dangerous territory buddy,” you laugh.
“Oh? Why is that dangerous?” Seokjin’s face contorted in confusion.
“Nevermind. Forget what I said. See ya around, Jin,” you’re about to disappear before Jin called out to you.
“Wait! You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That hasn’t been sitting well with me for the past couple centuries,” Seokjin shyly confessed.
“Aw, you’ve been thinking of me for centuries? What a sweetheart. I’m ___, Mother of Murder, Enslaver of Mankind, and Tamer of Dragons,” you bow.
“Tamer of Dragons? I’ve never seen one,” Seokjin tilted his head.
“Probably because they’re not real and I was messing with you. The other titles are real though. I’m kind of a bigshot downstairs. That’s why they keep me up here. See ya around, angel,” you vanish out of sight.
“___. She doesn’t really seem like the demons I’ve been told about,” Seokjin pondered.
You had a couple more run ins with the angel Seokjin, but unfortunately they were all in passing. The two of you would catch a fleeting glimpse of the other before one of you would vanish. Your time on Earth was starting to bore you. Up until you decided to wreck some havoc.
                                                       1350 CE
The black plague, also known as the Black Death, was sweeping across Europe. It had already taken millions of lives, and still had more to go. This catastrophic pandemic was beyond devastating. And you couldn’t be happier. Cart after cart rolled through towns and villages, each one filled with the bodies of the deceased or nearly deceased. The screams of those in agony was music to your ears. You skipped cheerfully along the streets. You couldn’t be more pleased with yourself. After all, the Black Death was your brainchild.
“___!” you stop in your tracks.
“Jin? Jin! How lovely to see you,” you greet him with a warm smile. You started to grow fond of him through the years. His curiosity and sincerity always amused you.
“It’s Seokjin, not Jin. I’m honestly quite worried,” Seokjin sighed.
“About? The humans?” you peer up at him.
“Yes. This plague has gotten out of hand. Sure, humans get sick and die all the time. They’re frightfully delicate. But this? Millions upon millions dead? This must be the work of some...some sort of demon!” Seokjin exclaims before calming himself, “I apologize for my outburst. This whole situation is just too worrisome.”
“You’re right. You must be a sleuth or something,” you say nonchalantly.
“What? Right about what?” Seokjin’s eyes widen.
“This IS the work of a demon. Me! This is all my doing! Pretty impressive no?” the horrified look on Seokjin’s face encouraged you to continue, “So get this. I was bored outta my mind one day, right? Then I started thinking about all the organisms on this planet. From tall to small. Then I realized that bugs are completely on the bottom of the food chain. Very unfair, wouldn’t you say?”
“I suppose so, but God intended--”
“Sure sure whatever. I took it upon myself to give bugs a little advantage. Specifically, fleas. I experimented for a bit then settled on giving some of them the ability to infect their prey! Truth be told, I had no idea that the rats they sucked on would become feral. I just thought they’d get sick and die a horrible death or something. Who would’ve thought they’d go around biting humans? Am I the best or am I the best?” you wiggled your eyebrows at Seokjin, who was still staring at you with horror.
“You caused all of this, ___? And it was all an accident?” Seokjin was trying to process what you told him.
“Yeah basically. All because I wanted to make the playing field a little more fair for fleas,” you nodded.
“That’s funny,” Seokjin said curtly.
“Oh yeah? What amuses you so, my angel?” you ask playfully.
“You wanted to help fleas. Fleas. Some would say it was an act of compassion,” Seokjin grins.
“What? No! No, I was just bored. I thought it would be something I could occupy myself with. Don’t look too deep into it, Jin,” you turn away, in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks.
“Sure sure. Whatever you say, ___. At least you’re probably getting high praises in Hell,” he pats your head fondly.
“Shut up, angel,” you say before vanishing. You couldn’t take the embarrassment any longer. Compassion? From you? No way in Heaven. And what was that? Jin patting your head like you’re some sort of friends? Even though he was growing on you like a tumor, you hadn’t considered him a friend before. Well. Maybe you had. You just didn’t want to admit it. Life can get pretty lonely on Earth for an immortal being. At least you guys have that in common.
In an attempt to befriend Seokjin, you searched for him. Up until now, it has always been him sneaking up on you. You found him in a small village that had just about been completely wiped out by the Black Death.
“Hey angel,” you pipe up, causing him to jump.
“Ah! ___! Hello, you scared me. What can I do for you?” Seokjin smiled, his cheeks bunching up like fresh bread.
“I was wondering if you’d like to get a bite to eat? We can sneak into the nearest Royal family’s kitchen and find something good?” you ask, looking at the ground.
“Eat? We don’t have to do that though,” the angel’s signature confused face took hold.
“Yes I know that. But we’re on Earth now and until the end of time. Or until we get called back. Might as well indulge in Earthly pleasures right?” you try to reason. Your pride would be hurt if he declined.
“Indulge? Isn’t that sinful?” Seokjin said apprehensively.
“I didn’t realize a loaf of bread was sinful. I’ll be right back, just gotta drag yeast into Hell,” you mock. To your surprise, Seokjin laughed. As corny as it is, his laugh sounded like a mixture of bells and a choir of angels. It was truly euphoric.
“To be quite honest, food is one of my favorite things on Earth. I’m fond of desserts in particular. Hearing you suggest eating made me reconsider if it’s a sin or not. But you’re right. A bite of food won’t hurt anyone!” Seokjin concluded gleefully.
That was the start to the tradition of eating together after every encounter.
                                                        1943 CE
Although technically mortal enemies, you both enjoyed the companionship now and again. Hearing about each other’s lives never got boring. Seokjin himself was somewhat of an enigma to you. He was childlike in the sense that he was curious about everything, and loved learning about new things. He was also simultaneously serious about everything. Any time he tried to make a joke, it was always lost on you. You soon learned to fake a laugh for him because...because you kind of liked the way his eyes lit up when he was pleased with himself. He always found you entertaining. He admired your confidence. You were the epitome of devious, but even so, Seokjin believed that there was some good in you. You in turn believed there must be some bad in him. At least enough that allowed him to continuously hangout with a demon.
You sat alone in a German cafe, gazing out the window on a gloomy day. You listened intently to the conversation behind you. Nazi soldiers were discussing the satisfying feeling that accompanied terrorizing those who didn’t belong in Hitler’s utopia. You scoffed as you bit into your streusel coffee cake.
“Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice asked.
“Jin, my darling angel friend, of course you can sit there. I wouldn’t dare let anyone else sit with me,” you smile mischievously.
“It’s Seokjin. Not Jin. Why must we go over this every time?” Seokjin sighed.
“I think the nickname puts us on friendlier terms,” you devour what’s left of your cake, “Oh sorry, did you want some of that?”
“Should an angel and a demon be on friendly terms? And no thank you. Actually, I brought you a little surprise,” Seokjin makes a small decadent box appear from thin air, “These are your favorites, if I recall correctly.”
Your eyes grew wide as you received the box, “Is this…? JIN!!! I haven’t had these in ages!” you cheer gleefully as you open the top.
A familiar sight of perfectly baked macarons laid gracefully within. All your favorite flavors were there: coffee, chocolate, lemon, and other delectable flavors. You breathe in the sweet scent of the goods before choosing your first target. You sway happily as you take the first bite.
“Gift giving is definitely something that friends do,” you say with your mouth still full, “Would you like some?” you offer the other half of the coffee macaron.
“Then I suppose we are friends, ___. I’m happy I ran into you. There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jin takes the other half of the macaron, “World War I was atrocious enough. But now all of this World War II business is even more despicable. I was wondering if you had an idea about when this will end. It has been breaking my heart to see all of this horror unfold.”
“So the macarons were a peace offering for information?” your eyes narrowed, chocolate macaron in hand.
“I was in the little French village that made your favorites and thought it would be nice to bring you some. Talking about World War II was actually an afterthought,” Seokjin said. That made you chuckle. Jin was being honest; he’s incapable of lying. If he ever tried, it would never work on you because he was god awful at it.
“I’ll believe you for now, angel. To be honest, the humans did this themselves. I was sightseeing in Mongolia when Germany invaded Poland. I knew that Hitler guy was no good-- I specialize in that-- but he’s damn near as evil as a certified demon. I can’t take credit for any of this. I like creating chaos. It’s what I do. But I find this highly organized genocide distasteful,” you admit.
“A demon finding genocide distasteful? Amusing. See? There must be some goodness left in you. I guess you don’t know when this will end then?” Seokjin asks.
“Not a clue. And don’t you ever say that I have goodness. That’s bullshit. I’m the baddest of the bad. Don’t forget that,” you sneer.
“There’s no need to get hostile, my friend. I should get going. I’ve been trying to help the victims in any way that I can. Needless to say, it has been very busy for the past few years. This was a nice little break. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Seokjin smiles and bows respectfully before disappearing out of sight.
“The pleasure is all mine, my darling angel,” you say quietly to the empty space before you.  
                                                     Present Day
“That girl over there looks rather ravishing, doesn’t she? It’s a shame that she’s here instead of your girlfriend. Unless…,” you pour thoughts of infidelity in a random guy’s mind.
You sensed that he was nervous the entire night, and after observing him for a bit, you finally realized why. This man was out clubbing with his friends in celebration of someone’s birthday. His girlfriend isn’t one for going out (or having any sort of fun, from what you can gather in his mind) and he’s been eyeing this one gal the entire night. He was on the fence about whether or not to make a move. Luckily for him, you were in the vicinity that night. The alcohol pumping through his veins made him even more susceptible to your persuasions. You only spoke those few words to him before he made his way over to the girl, who immediately proceeded to grind on him.
“Infidelity huh?” a familiar voice said.
“It’s the easiest sin for men to commit. Women are too tempting for those who can’t control their lust. And by that, I mean probably 99% of all male humans,” you shrug, “It’s my duty to lead humans astray, remember?”
“Of course, how could I forget?,” Seokjin chuckled, “It’s amusing to me that the one who caused the Black Death is now sitting in a dingy nightclub telling intoxicated men to cheat on their significant other.”
“Would you rather me tell him to murder her? Would that please you, Jin?” you raise an eyebrow threateningly.
“Oh dear heavens, no. Please don’t do that. But if you were to do that, I can always intervene and protect the poor girl. And please. It’s Seokjin, not Jin,” the angel pouted. You loved his pout, it made his supple lips look even more delectable. Wait. What are you thinking?  
The two of you sat in a booth inside the dimly lit nightclub. After ordering multiple rounds of drinks, Seokjin finally felt loose enough to strike up a conversation. You had been too lost in your thoughts regarding how you felt about your angelic companion to talk.
“How have you been, ___?” Seokjin asked.
“Same as ever. Chillin out, traveling, creating mischief wherever I go. My favorite thing to do nowadays is to fuck up cell phone receptions in really popular areas. The animosity goes through the roof!” you explain.
“Sounds...exciting,” Seokjin takes another sip.
“What about you, angel cakes?” you gaze at him fondly.
“My flower shop has been coming along beautifully! I mean, I want to keep all of the flowers for myself but I guess part of running a business is selling your goods. You should come by and see it. I even have some nightshade. I thought of you when I acquired it,” Seokjin smiled.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush. I’ll come and visit your shop soon,” you finish your drink, “It kinda sucks though,”
“The drink? We can order another--”
“Not that. I’m living the best life I could possibly ask for. The world is literally my playground. But I’m kinda bored. I’ve plunged from the Mother of Murder to inciting infidelity just for the drama. I feel like I’m burnt out,” you pout, sinking into the booth.
“Maybe finding a hobby could help? I like plants, so now I collect and sometimes sell them. What do you like? Come to think of it, I don’t think I really know much about you at all,” Seokjin realizes.
“I’m hurt. We’ve been friends for what? About 6000 years?” you dramatically grasped your chest.
“Friends? You consider me a friend?”
“Are we not?” you retorted.
“I suppose we are. What an unlikely friendship. And one that our bosses will never know about,” Seokjin grins, “Can I ask you something? As a friend?”
“Sure thing. Jin, my best friend in the whole wide world, what do you want?” you bat your eyes at him.
“How did you fall from Grace?”
Hearing the question sobered you up immediately. You never thought Jin would care about you enough to ask such a personal inquiry. It’s akin to asking someone ‘hey, what’s the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you?’ out of the blue. You were staring at your empty cup when Jin spoke up.
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I’ve just been so curious--”
“It’s fine. I was just shocked that you wanted to know me on a more personal level,” you laugh nervously.
“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends,” Seokjin said seriously.
You take a deep breath before answering, “I was curious. Just like you. I didn’t understand why God was so obsessed with the stupid little humans. They were so vile, so vulgar. Even if they knew right from wrong, they sometimes willingly chose what was wrong. I was confounded. Apparently asking questions is the same as undermining His authority. They thought I was going to grow my own free will. An angel who can think for themselves is a threat. And so, down I went. It was a pretty long fall actually. The landing was pretty unpleasant,” you try to lighten up the story.
“I’m sorry, ___,” Jin took a hold of your hands, “At least you still have the wings of an angel.”
“Yeah but they’re all black and tattered now. Yours are still beautiful and pristine.”
“I think your wings are beautiful too,” Seokjin said softly. You realized he was still holding your hands. You slowly retreat from his grasp. You don’t know how to handle the praise coming from the angel.
“Thanks, my darling angel. Anyway. This place is getting kinda boring. You wanna get dessert?” you suggest.
“You know me so well!” Seokjin agreed.
You found yourselves in a nearby gelato shop. You treat yourself to a coffee gelato, while Jin got chocolate gelato. The pair of you opt to sit outside and soak in the city life.
“I thought you didn’t like chocolate? I remember you turning your nose up to the best chocolate I’ve had in my life when we were in Switzerland,” you noticed his chocolate gelato.
“I like the chocolate flavor, but I don’t like chocolate,” Jin said casually, “I love strawberries, but I don’t like strawberry flavored things.”
“You’re so strange,” you let out a laugh. Jin laughed with you, his stoic image started to fade away. Afterward, you both sat comfortably in silence. Being in each other’s company was satisfying. It helped ease the loneliness that you refused to admit you had. Pondering your loneliness alongside your friend had your thoughts drifting to an interesting concept.
“Do you remember that time we decided to indulge in Earthly pleasures for the first time all those years ago? That decision was probably the best I’ve ever made. I love food,” you break the silence.
“I do remember that. I think I’m obliged to say that doing the Lord’s work was the best decision I’ve ever made. But I guess I didn’t really have a choice,” his voice trailed off, “Besides that, eating food with you was probably my best decision too,” Jin smiled, revealing his bread cheeks.
“What if we indulge in a different Earthly pleasure tonight?” you suggest calmly, licking at your gelato.
“Other than food? What do you mean?” Seokjin’s eyes widened with curiosity.
“Haven’t you wondered why lust is such a strong motivating factor for humans?”
“I believe they reproduce for the survival of their species--”
“That’s not what I mean, you silly little angel. I’ve heard from several succubi that they really enjoy sex and--”
“Lust is a sin, ___. It’s literally one of the seven deadly sins,” Seokjin interrupted sternly.
“I said that humans are driven by lust. If we hypothetically partake in this, it would be for research reasons only. Wouldn’t you be of better service to mankind if you could understand them better?” you reason.
Frankly, you don’t give a damn about mankind. Never have and never will. The thought of getting intimate with the angel Seokjin has sparked an excitement in you that you hadn’t felt in ages. Persuasion is your forte, and you’re sure as hell gonna do your best to win him over. Seokjin was silent as he pondered over your proposal. His face was unreadable.
“I’ll admit I have been curious about it. I don’t understand why humans crave it so much,” Seokjin admitted. A smile slowly formed on your face.
“Does that mean you’ll indulge with me? Just as you did when we ate together all those moons ago?” you take his hands in yours.
“Fine, ___. I’ll indulge with you. But purely for research purposes,” Seokjin said firmly.
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This city had been your dwelling place for the past couple of years so you had your own place. You giddily led the angel to your apartment. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. Seduction wasn’t part of your job, so you never partook in such activities. It was mischief alone that was your specialty.
When you finally arrived at your apartment, you instructed Jin to wait outside for a couple of minutes while you tidied up the place. With a snap of your fingers, your humble abode was free of any trash and not a speck of dust was to be found. After wondering about what would help set “the mood”, you decided on lighting candles. You figured the dim lighting would help create a sensual atmosphere. The final touch was slipping into promiscuous black lingerie. You had a complete set: stockings, garter, corset, and a bra. You twirled in front of a mirror and was satisfied with the look. You felt like the epitome of a seductress. You made your way to the front door and swung it open, striking a seductive pose. You nearly burst out into a fit of laughter when you saw Jin’s eyes wide with shock and mouth agape.
“You...you look...nice,” Jin stuttered.
“Come on in, my darling angel,” you waved a single finger at him.
Seokjin timidly stepped inside. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom; the walkway was lined with candles. You closed the bedroom door behind Jin as you heard him gulp nervously.
“You scared, Jin?” you teased. Jin couldn’t make eye contact with you. You could barely see his faint blush in the dim lighting.
“No. Maybe a bit nervous. I thought we would just get down to it,” Jin let out an annoyed sigh before finally making eye contact, “And it’s Seokjin. Not Jin.”
“Go straight to fucking? Without foreplay? Aw you really are such a little angel, aren’t you? You sweet sweet vanilla baby boy,” with each word you crept closer to him, eventually wrapping your arms around his neck. He smelled like a mixture of warm honey and wildflowers. His scent was intoxicating. You couldn’t resist any longer as you planted a gentle kiss on his neck, causing him to groan lightly.
“Oh? You like that?” you whispered sweetly.
“I never realized our corporeal bodies were so sensitive,” Jin replied quietly.
“You’re still so tense, angel,” you observed as you massaged his broad shoulders, “I can help you unwind. Part of the fun of sex is indulging in the pleasure, so I’ve heard,” you say as you guide Jin to the bed.
“Let’s make some things clear,” you say as you straddle Jin, “Firstly, you can touch me. I don’t wanna be doing all the work. Secondly, don’t be afraid to act on any urges. I can assure you I can handle whatever you wanna do. Lastly, do you trust me?” you ask. Jin blinked blankly.
“Generally, I’m pretty sure a demon is never to be trusted. But since it’s you, I guess I’ll make an exception. I trust you, ___,” Jin said sincerely.
“I’m touched,” you smile, “Now take off your shirt and pants,” you demand, climbing off of him. Jin complied. Left in only his underwear, he sat on the bed awaiting your next instructions. You soaked in the sight of him. He was fit; his physique had your mouth watering.
“Perfect,” you say, seductively crawling back on top of him.
You lock eyes as you straddle his hips. You lean in slowly, eyes wandering to his plush lips. Jin does the same, leaning towards you ever so slightly. Your lips met gently. After relishing the tender moment, you kiss him more intensely. To your surprise, Jin met you with the same intensity. His hands started to wander as well. Starting with a firm grip on your ass, his hands traveled slowly up to your breasts.
“I don’t think I can fully appreciate you with all this on,” Jin breathed heavily after he broke from the kiss.
“What a cheeky angel. Be patient, love,” you notice a change in Jin’s eyes. There was an intense gaze of lust pouring from his dark brown eyes. It turned you on.
You laid him down and whispered, “Now the fun can begin.”
A blindfold manifested out of thin air and into your hand. Jin looked at the object curiously. He didn’t protest when you wrapped it over his eyes. You smiled at the fact that he truly did trust you.
You kissed him again. You couldn’t get enough of his velvety soft lips. You dared to slip your tongue in his mouth delicately. Seokjin pulled you closer to him as he reciprocated with more aggression. His boldness caused you to let out a small moan.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Seokjin stopped immediately after he heard you. His genuine concern caused you to chuckle.
“I don’t think you’re capable of hurting me, sweet boy. Keep doing what you’re doing,” you say before going back for another kiss.
You reluctantly pull away from Jin’s sweet lips, gently placing wet kisses down his neck and along his chest. You kitten lick one of his nipples as you pinch and twist the other. Jin seemed to enjoy this as his breathing became uneven and he let out tiny moans.
You travel further down to position yourself between his thighs. His erection was obstructed by his underwear. You tug it off, allowing it to free itself. The length was impressive, and his girth was just as satisfying.
You slowly started pumping your hand along his shaft. As soon as you held him, Jin shuddered. You were amused by how sensitive he was. You gave his tip a few kitten licks as you hand was still slowly dragging along his cock. This caused Jin to shift underneath you, and his soft moans were getting louder. You stopped teasing him as you took his entire length in your mouth. Being a divine being gave you small perks such as not having a gag reflex. You sloppily bobbed your head up and down his cock, listening to his sweet groans of pleasure. Hands soon grip your hair, and now Jin was guiding your rhythm.
“Ahh ___... I think I’m gonna...my body feels weird,” Jin muttered between groans.
Without warning, Jin released his load into your mouth. You were surprised by the sudden outburst and pulled away too late. What didn’t land in your mouth splattered all over your chest.
“Huh. So angels can ejaculate. Wild,” you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “You don’t taste half bad, angel. But you did get my lingerie messy,” you tsked.
“I think I’m starting to understand why humans enjoy this so much. Sorry about your clothes, I guess you have to take them off now,” Jin proposed.
“I suppose you’re right,” you chuckle. With a snap of your fingers, the lingerie magically vanishes.
“I wanna feel what you felt,” you whined.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.
“What else would you do?” you teased.
“You could sit on my face and I can reciprocate the oral sex,” Jin offered.
His straightforward way of talking never ceased to amaze you. It was no surprise that he would talk this way even in the bedroom. You grinned as you positioned your thighs on each side of his head.
“You sure about this?” you ask.
“Sit on my face, ___,” Jin said impatiently.
You slowly lowered yourself onto Jin’s face. You carefully made sure you that the lips lined up. You rested your intimate part gently on Jin’s lips. You shuddered with delight as he licked a long gentle strip along your pussy. Jin began to explore you with his tongue.
“You’re still too far away,” he grunts as he places his hands on your hips and roughly pulls you closely to him.
His nose was buried in your pussy at this point. He darted his tongue in and out of you, causing you to gasp. He brought his hand around to play with a nub located above your opening. Somehow, he figured out that this little nub was extremely sensitive, as you nearly doubled over when he applied pressure on it. You could faintly hear a low chuckle under you as the pressure on your clit increased. Jin’s thumb ferociously played with your clit as his tongue flicked inside you. Your legs began to shake and your moans got louder and more drawn out.
“Jin! Fuck that feels amazing. Don’t stop. My body is starting to feel weird too,” you cry out.
Soon enough, a wave of euphoria coursed throughout your body as you released your juices all over his face. You fell beside him, chest heaving.
“How was that?” Jin asked, licking around his mouth, “You don’t taste too bad yourself, Mother of Murder.”
“You flatter me, angel. You didn’t correct me when I said Jin!” you observed, taking off his blindfold.
“I actually thought it was pleasant. Hearing you moan out my nickname like that spurred me on for some reason,” Jin sighed.
“Oh so you like when I moan out your name? You’re such a naughty angel,” you jokingly admonish, “We still haven’t gotten to the finale yet.”
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.
“Yes, my darling angel. I want you to fuck me now,” you say curtly, “How do you want to take my virginity?” you bat your eyes innocently at him, spreading your legs out.
“Like this would be fine. I think I’d enjoy seeing your face,” Jin leaned down for a passionate kiss, complete with tasteful tongue usage.  
Breaking the kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance. He gazed at you tenderly before you nodded at him, signaling for him to proceed. He slowly slipped inside, and you relished every inch of him. The new sensation of the stretch was a bit painful at first, but it soon was replaced with a foreign bliss. You let out a low moan when he finally bottomed out. Eyes fixated on each other, Jin wordlessly began to thrust in and out of you. The bliss was enjoyable, but you craved more. Jin was going too slowly for your taste (even though it was an impressive pace already by human standards).
“Faster. Harder. Fuck me harder, Jin,” you pleaded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.
Jin complied, now thrusting with more force at a faster rate. Jin was having a hard time controlling himself, as his grunts started to mix with your moans. You clawed at his back, leaving red streaks across it. Jin suddenly hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper. You let out a high pitched squeal at the sudden switch up. You began to feel a familiar tingle in your lower region.
“Jin, I’m close,” you panted.
“Me too, my darling demon. Let’s finish together, shall we?” Jin replied, sweat dripping from his brow.
It only took a couple more thrusts before you both reached your limits. You felt Jin’s hot cum fill you up as he let out a final groan. You could barely hear him over your own lewd cry as your orgasm hit you hard. As your juices mixed, Jin collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him and held him tenderly against your chest. You laid together in silence for a while with synchronized breathing before Jin broke the silence.
“Do you think I’ll fall from Grace now? I indulged in the sin of lust. I don’t think the guys upstairs will understand that it was for research purposes,” Jin sounded worried.
“Do you regret it?” you asked quietly.
“Oddly enough, no. It was fun. I’m just worried because I’ve been an angel since the beginning of time. I don’t know how I’ll be anything else,” Jin admitted.
“Have your superiors ever checked up on you since they plopped you onto Earth?”
“Only once, close to the beginning. I never realized that they never check up on me. Does this mean they won’t find out?” Jin’s voice started to pick up.
“I won’t tell your superiors if you don’t tell mine! Although, I don’t think mine would care that much,” you laugh, hugging Jin closer to you.
“Deal. Wow, I really just made a deal with a devil huh?” Jin laughed at his own joke. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kiss him on the forehead.
“You know...we don’t have to part ways just yet. Stay the night. Let’s snuggle together and pretend we’re humans in love,” you whisper to him.
“Sure, I’ll stay the night. You don’t have to be human to know what love is, you know?” Jin crept up to kiss you gently.
“Shut up, angel. No more mushy talk. Just cuddle me and so I can fall asleep faster,” you snapped.
You switch positions so that you could nuzzle yourself into Jin’s chest. You both fell asleep in each other’s embrace, in each other’s arms and wings. You’ve never felt more at peace than this moment, in which you and Jin were entangled in each other’s wings. Neither of you noticed it, but your wings got a little lighter that night. Neither of your noticed, but Jin’s wings got a little darker that night.
Published October 31, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.
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oftenderweapons · 4 years
Text
Mold Me New (1) – Taehyung
A Small Town Swoons story
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Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Wordcount: 3.2k
Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life
Rating: 18+ (for future smut and explicit thoughts)
Hello to my readers!!!  Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe! 🥰✨
In this episode: Introducing the reader’s backstory, exploring her life as a wife and then as a single woman who is slowly getting to know herself as an individual person.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are mild curse words, a bit of a sad vibe regarding falling out of love and getting a divorce, description of several bad dates and good ones that end badly, mention of getting drunk, mention of sex toys, mention of one night stand.
In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines, and in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.
I forgot to mention, bc I’m dumb and bc we’re becoming one body with two souls, but this chapter (as most of the decent, edited things I post) was beta read by the magical @joheunsaram​ (she’s recently lost her previous blog and she’s rebuilding it, please go say something nice and YOU SHOULD FOLLOW HER SHE’S A QUEEN ,,,,, my queen 🥺✨)
Enjoy 💜✨
Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 
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When you fall in love with someone, the feeling is like entering a chocolaterie. The scent engulfs you, full and rich and sultry, igniting your senses, the heat making your skin glisten in a light sheen of perspiration, making you exceedingly vulnerable to pointless stuff, like the way your lover exhales. Or their hands skimming your arms.
At least, that was what your best friend had told you.
You had none of that. To you love was a daisy being twirled under your nose, sharing cotton candy, the smell of crisp apples, flannel sheets, the sound of dead leaves crackling under matching footsteps, a sturdy but shiny steel band around your finger suddenly substituted by a golden one.
That had been the beginning of the end. When practicality and simplicity had turned into conventionality and disinterest.
When gifts stopped being things you loved and became things he thought you loved. And then things everyone loved.
When love became a chore, that's when everything crumbled. When kisses became just a good morning and a welcome back, when there were no more laughs echoing in the kitchen, when leaves kept falling but it was your footsteps alone making them crackle, when flannel sheets kept feeling warm but still something was missing — because someone was missing — when suddenly there was no more time for fairs and cotton candy, when daisies became roses, Love stopped making sense. It stopped having a meaning for you.
You were no longer sure of the life you had built with the man of your dreams, the boy you had fallen in love with when you were eight, the guy who had walked with you across the corridors of your high school, who had made you twirl under the lame disco ball of your prom, who had gone through college finals with you, who had spent three summers making your hangout spot into a home, turning the small old shack into a proper place for you to build a new life together. He was your first kiss, your first valentine, your first time. He was the man at the end of the aisle, the man who would walk with you until the last of your days.
But one day he started running and you still walked.
Or maybe you were both running in different directions, no longer on the path to the same destination, your priorities somehow switched.
Of course, it wasn't his fault.
It wasn't yours either.
You had both participated in this small unraveling, and you had both expressed the intention of changing, of finding compromise, an in-between, without either of you actually making the effort of fixing your trajectory, small habits and old pet peeves pulling you even farther apart.
The attempts — multiple ones — were painstakingly embarrassing. There were tears on both sides as you wondered what had caused this sudden rift that separated you — except it wasn't sudden, only your realisation was; the crevasse had been there for way longer. Maybe it had started as a small chipping the very day you met him, and it wasn't until now that you realised how the small sign had turned into an ominous presence, and then into unfathomable, inevitable doom.
And then the divorce.
It had been disgustingly easy, both parties agreeing on the procedures.
You didn't want the house. And you didn't need it. He didn't either.
Selling it had been exceedingly painless, you had shared the money, since he wanted to offer you stability. He already knew you would both suffer and he didn't want you worrying about rent. He was still your friend, after all.
Going back to being alone scared you at the beginning, until you realised that few things were truly bothering you. At least there wasn't this ghost of a human making you doubt all of your plans. You could plan dinner five days ahead or improvise. You could go to the restaurant as a last minute deal. You could go on long walks without the 'I'm sorry baby, emergency' making you rush back to town.
It felt like a bit of a liberation.
And your family's bookshop was doing well enough, since it was situated near the college and it also offered printing service.
Of course there were bad days. Sometimes you woke up searching for a body beside yours, however that feeling had significantly subdued after you had gotten used to the new bed. You missed human contact, being close, intimate with someone, having someone who knows you that deeply.
And then the true nightmare.
Finding someone new.
You were genuinely uninterested in dating. You had given it a go and it had sufficed.
It wasn't your world.
How could it possibly be?
You had never dated. You had basically offered your heart to the person that has always owned it. It's not like you had any experience in that labyrinth that is dating. All those unspoken social norms and the pining and tension. You only knew the comfort of a warm hug, the beauty of a kiss sparking from innocence and affection and slowly turning into steady, warm passion. You didn't like infernos, you liked candles. You liked the domestic hearth. You liked moderation.
And dating was all about extremes, from strangers to 'I'm inspecting your throat' on date one. And then suddenly it's date three and the same guy who brought you to a pizza place and a diner is suddenly going out of his way to bring you to a pretentious, expensive restaurant as a way to propitiate the possibility of you dropping your panties.
You had allowed this foolery only three times. Apparently all the suitable suitors were either really prone to pushing the pedal or had a passion for tongue gastroscopies.
The first one, Albert, had been quite the gentleman on date one. On date two he started making inappropriate jokes with a heavy body shaming undertone — a bit cliché for the stereotypical gym rat. And on date three he had dropped all pretenses at politeness and had outright palmed your ass in public, which made you rightfully uncomfortable. As you pointed that out, he proceeded saying that after all it was your third date and it was time to loosen up a little.
You didn’t even bother staying for dinner, left a bill on the table and left.
No matter the first disappointment, you decided not to let that disrespectful fool slow you down. And since your best friend knew everything about rat headed number one, you allowed her to set you up with one of her colleagues after she reassured you he was nothing like the one before.
Except somehow he was. The first date was at the local pub, and you somehow found yourself getting along well, his jokes were funny and he had good timing, he was relaxed, confident but still a bit clumsy and shy. He could be a good candidate.
But that was before he pushed his tongue to your tonsils as he kissed goodbye.
You gagged.
On date two he admitted you weren’t exactly his type. You were glad to reciprocate the statement after he told you his dream was having four children and a farm, alluding to the fact that his bride needed to be the perfect housewife.
You were pretty adamant that was not the kind of future you wanted for yourself.
Candidate number three was a guy you had met while grocery shopping, and somehow he had impressed you in an absolutely positive way on date one and two. Everything had been perfect, he was kind, considerate and well-mannered. Date three had been innocent, simple, down-to-earth. And then date four. Perfect dinner at his place. He had made you swoon and he had a very pretty cat he was very affectionate with.
He was the first man you had felt desire for in a very long time — almost eight months after your divorce.
The sex had been decent for being a first time.
And then he had entirely disappeared and never texted or called you back, which didn’t sit entirely wrong with you. You wished him all the best but you were actually glad. You liked being you and doing your own thing: having someone too much down your neck, getting in a relationship, having to check in with another person again felt more like a burden than a win.
Maybe it was just a coping mechanism to avoid facing the fact that he had been someone you could have liked, someone you could have built something with.
You were a happy woman, and it’s not like you really felt lacking or incomplete, like some of your single friends felt. And you had no intention of starting a family anytime soon, no matter if your old high school classmates had begun popping out kids left and right. You were more than happy to live the teen and early-twenty years you had spent in a relationship.
You were getting to know yourself in a way most of your friends didn’t have time to — you could already see them going through a midlife crisis after their kids became old enough to navigate life by themselves, which meant no more need for overprotective, and sometimes borderline suffocating, mothers, who suddenly found themselves with too much free time and too little tasks to complete.
Knowing your needs made you a stronger, better woman, and solitude had gifted you a level of introspection and balance that you doubted they could ever reach; maybe that was an arrogant consideration, but you knew there was no way knowing and loving yourself would ever bring you to crying over disrespectful, ungrateful youth whose only fault was that of growing up out of their mothers’ plans.
Unfortunately, there was no way your family — especially your grandmother — could ever tolerate the idea of you not needing a man and a family to be happy.
“Oh, come on, isn’t it time for you to bring a nice fellow back home?”
You shook your head as you and your grandma took a walk along the river, the sunny March afternoon feeling way too nice to stay at home. “Granny. There’s no people like Grandad anymore.”
“Oh, darling. You’re starting with the wrong role model. Not even back in my days we had men like him. He was the exception.” She nodded to herself with a sweet smile, remembering the husband she had lost a few years back.
“It’s so frustrating. And after all that happened… You know how it was. We were together for years. He was the only one I had. I don’t even know how to do these things. And books cannot teach you stuff like that. The more you read, the more you realise that most of these men had never even seen a rom com.”
“Oh, come on, but you have the internet these days! Can’t you find him in there? You have all these phones and computers and everyone has them, there must be a good one in the internet.”
She always said that “in the internet”. Like it was a physical place.
“I don’t even want to look in there, Granny. There are so many dangers in there.” You shuddered as you thought at the funny instagram pages where the people posted screenshots of the worst descriptions. All the embarrassing playboys and the fishermen and the lame wanna-be poets.
“Right… How can you know he is really is a person?” She considered, patting your back proudly. “You’re pretty. And you’ve always had the most perfect bum of all your cousins. Just like mine!” She grinned cockily, giving a playful smack to your ass, making you laugh loudly.
“It won’t last long.” You said, looking down. Solitude scared you sometimes. Being old and alone could be hard on the spirit and you had a feeling that old hag you would curse your dumb arrogance and inconsideration. However, for now you were still somehow making it through. Your divorce was finalised almost ten months ago. You could still consider yourself just fresh out of it.
“You’re smart. And I’m sure you have a lot to offer. You’re a good woman, and you’re far from being too old. There’s never a thing such as too old. Don’t let yourself be fooled. Look at me.” She said. “I’m still living a good life. Herbert has left me but I’m still here. Walking. Cooking. Drizzle keeps me good company.” She smiled sweetly at the mention of her dog, a lovely large poodle elegantly strolling at her side, its light grey fur finely trimmed by your grandmother’s expert hands. She had been a hairdresser for decades: learning how to keep Drizzle’s coat had been a cup of tea for her and he’d kept her distracted from grief after your grandpa passed away.
Her face formed a meditative pout. “Maybe you should just get a dog. Or even better, a cat. You’ve always looked like a cat child to me. So quiet and focused, like you knew some secret that nature would speak to you alone. You were always so attentive as a child!”
You smiled and looked at the path under your feet. Drizzle stayed unbothered as a loud, angry dachshund walked towards him, barking annoyingly. You had never felt sympathy for that small evil breed.
“I think I could get a kitten one of these days. Or a cat, from the shelter.”
“I’m sure you’ll find it in the internet!”
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“So we’re really doing the party thing?”
“Listen, baby. It’s gonna be your first party as a free woman. Real mind blowing birthday sex.”
“I’m not a virgin, you know?” You stared at your face in the mirror, spreading some moisturiser over your forehead, inspecting the small lines there. You shrugged and let them be.
Maybe you would spend your best years single and find a sugar baby in ten or twenty years. Wait, weren’t those called toy boys?
Who cares.
Maybe it was time to get the post-grad you had always dreamed of. You would need to check your bank account before making that decision — maybe finally telling yourself yes could be the real birthday gift. That is, beside the huge dildo waiting in your drawer. Not being attracted to men or women didn’t mean you didn’t like sex.
You just found it difficult to imagine being with someone.
“Darling I’d bet an arm and a leg he never gave it to your right. You just need a bit more experience.”
All you needed was a hot bath, some candles and a good book. No man, no one night stand, no birthday sex could possibly make you as happy as decent jazz, wine and a novel.
“Why aren’t we doing that wine tasting at the winery out of town?”
“Because I want you choking on cheap alcohol, having all the fun you didn’t have on your twenty-first birthday because you were planning your own wedding. And I bet you’re the only one who wasn’t fucked in the bathroom of the Wickhead.”
Terry could be incredibly crude, but you loved her nonetheless. You loved her even more for it. She had never hidden anything from you, she had told you even the most embarrassing details of her own life. And she had always been the kindest, most faithful friend: she had driven you way out of town when you were eighteen and your period was late and you needed to buy a pregnancy test without all everyone and their dog knowing; she had chosen your wedding dress for you, spotting it and telling you it was going to be the one before you could even see it. When your marriage had started crumbling, she had spent countless nights with you, keeping you company when your husband was busy with his business trips. Though Terry had insinuated cheating, you knew he would never break your trust like that, and she had decided to trust your better judgement.
You had simply fallen out of love with each other.
And when you had moved into your new apartment, Terry had helped you repaint the walls and build the extra bookcases and install the shelves and fill your wine stand. Before leaving she had grabbed an unfamiliar box from her car, placing it on top of your bed, opening it and spreading out a set of “single necessaire”, as she called it. A couple toys, lube, condoms. To celebrate your re-found sexual promiscuity, she had said, though you objected, it was hard rediscovering something you had never had.
She had shaken her head and left you to “familiarise” yourself with everything.
“You know I’m not exactly a party person, Terry. This will end badly.” You said, sitting on your bed with your back against the headboard, your legs stretched out before you.
“You can allow yourself some fun once in a decade, you know?” You could hear her scoff on the phone.
“But I do have fun. Book. Wine. Bingo!” You explained, rolling your eyes as the booed.
“Come on, do it for me. Do it for your single friend who wants to get drunk and possibly sixty-nine? Please?” The other thing wrong with Terry is that if you ever met her in person, you would face the sweetest five foot three and a half — she insisted on the half — human being you could ever meet, with pretty wavy blonde hair and wide, sweet green eyes, the most boopable button nose and a sprinkle of freckles on her golden skin. She literally glowed in sunlight and her flowy gowns always made her look like a goddess: you could see men fighting for her, dying for her and going to war for just one of her gentle smiles.
“Don’t you have a FWB for that sixty-nine thingie?” You asked with an exceedingly inquisitive tone. It had been a while since she last updated you.
“Dumped him.” She replied curtly.
You tutted before exhaling. Emotionally constipated people — what’s wrong with them?
“He’s dating someone since he was ready for a relationship.” Terry sounded a bit colder than usual.
“And you weren’t?” You asked. You felt your tone hesitate with slight concern. You knew she would just put up a wall and ignore your question.
Fortunately, she didn’t. “I’m not ready to talk about that. It’s complicated, Frog.”
She was hurt and wanted a distraction.
“Okay, Terry. We’re going to get rip roaring drunk this Saturday.”
The line went silent.
“You know I love you right?”
“I love you too, sweetie. Now go to sleep, you have an early shift tomorrow.”
The line went silent after you bid each other goodnight, your body settling underneath the sheets once you realised your eyes were fluttering shut  as you tried to read a few pages to put yourself to sleep.
Placing down the book, you hugged the extra pillow, settling your face in the corner between your sleeping pillow and your spare one, the heavy woolen comforter acting like a weighted blanket. You placed another pillow behind your back, making a soft cocoon all around you.
Yes, sometimes you still missed being hugged to sleep.
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The taglist is open!
Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7
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sithapprenticemaul · 4 years
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Hunter ; Hunted
summary: Din thought this would be a simple hunt, that he would succeed where others had failed - he was wrong. Din Djarin has met his match.
word count: 1.5k
pairing: Din Djarin x Sherrif!Reader
warnings: a brief fight, mentions of bruising and cuts
a/n: I was literally cuddling my cat when I got the inspiration for this. reader is so sassy and this is gonna be a slow burn. part one of four or five i think. also my first reader insert which i was so nervous to write bc I've never written like this before. please let me know what you think!
When Greef Karga slid the tracking puck across the table, he had warned Din of the challenge of this bounty. Brushing it off without a second thought, Din eagerly accepted, the staggering amount credits offered worth whatever trouble he could possibly get into. This was an Imperial bounty, and the money would greatly help The Tribe. The small village was out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest spaceport being a three-day journey away by speeder, even longer on foot. Din left the Razor Crest hidden safely in the nearby mountains and made the rest of the journey on foot to not be spotted. The element of surprise was key in his work. Humans and aliens of various races traversed the small village, going about their daily lives. Children played, vendors sold, creatures barked and brayed. None seemed fazed at the sudden appearance of an outsider, let alone one clad so heavily in armour. That should have been Din’s first clue that this hunt was not going to go the way he intended. Din approached the weathered tavern with annoyance and frustration in his stride. He was tired, sweat dripping down his back, the Tatooine twin suns baking him in his protective second skin. He stopped just outside the door, the thrum of the taverns patrons inside making its way to his ears. Taking a moment of respite in the shade of the awning, he readied himself for the challenge ahead of him. He swung the door open, and for one of the few times in his life as a bounty hunter, no one turned to look at him. No stares, no hushed whispers or folk scurrying out of his sight. Just lively chatter of folk enjoying food and drink and the whipping of the wind behind him. The Tavern was dark and dusty, just as one would expect from any building on Tatooine. Din’s target was sitting right in the middle of the bar. He could feel eyes watching him now, but no one made a move to stop him as he approached her. You sighed deeply as you heard the door swing open. You’d fought off many credit hungry hunters who had tried to drag you to your doom before - this would be no different. The floor creaked under Din as he stopped just a few steps behind his bounty, curious as to the events that would unfold. It wasn’t common for him to have bounties that wouldn’t put up at least a little bit of a fight. That should have been Din’s second clue. “At least let me finish my soup”, you said slowly, your voice not betraying the anxiety coursing through you. “This is the best that Kintara has made in a long time.” You winked at the bar tending Pa'lowick in front of you as you tipped your head back and slurped down the last of your lunch. Setting the bowl down in front of you gently and wiping your mouth with your sleeve, you lazily swung yourself around to look at whatever bounty hunting sleemo had come through your town this time. Leaning back casually, you took in the sight of the man before you. He was tall, armour in varying shades of brown covering most of his body, a shining silver helmet hiding away his face. His hand was gently trained on the blaster on his left hip. The Amban sniper rifle was still strapped to his back, indicating this was not meant to be a long and drawn out fight. He wanted this done quick. He made no move toward you - yet. The hubbub in the tavern continued as you and the Mandalorian stared each other down, neither of you giving an inch. And then he spoke. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.” The corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly at the vocoded words - typical bounty hunter, always assuming the oncoming struggle would be difficult on you. You, the poor helpless bounty that would help to line his pockets. “I’m not going anywhere, Hunter.” you spoke coolly. “I suggest,” you started as you rose from the barstool, “that you get going before you regret stepping foot in my town.” “Not going to happen. You’re coming with me, warm or cold.” he replied shortly, his voice betraying no hint of what emotion he was feeling. His body was tensed, rigid, awaiting your next move. Din couldn’t help but feel a little fascinated by his bounty and her sheer defiance in the face of danger. What had she seen in her life when a trained Mandalorian did not frighten her? Din frightened everyone. You smoothed out your tunic as you stood, subtly uncovering the blaster in its holster on your hip. You were just a few steps from the hunter. You stepped closer, taunting him into his next move, eyes unwavering. Din kept his eyes on you, suddenly becoming aware of the silence that filled the room but unable to tear his gaze from you. His third clue. He grasped his blaster in anticipation. Someone was about to get shot. You drew up to your full height at the sight of the hunter’s hand on his blaster, your eyes betraying the fury and irritation you now felt. You would not be intimidated by this outworlder on your planet, in your town and in your bar. Especially not during lunch. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you....” In a fraction of a second all hell broke loose. Tables and chairs were knocked over; glasses and plates smashed as the patrons of the bar drew their hidden weapons, taking aim at the Mandalorian from all around him. You knew better than anyone that at this close range he was going to hit you, you at least made sure the blaster bolt wasn’t going between your eyes. You twisted your body and dove to the floor as the bolt hit you in the right shoulder, stinging outrageously before you landed amongst the wreckage on the floor.
Din didn’t have a chance to fire again, his blaster falling from his hand as he held them up in helplessness as someone behind him kicked him to his knees. He was cornered, guns, knives, and other makeshift weapons at every angle around him. While his armour could protect him from a range of weapons, it would do nothing to save him from the knife dangerously close to piercing his body between his armour plating. Had he known the whole town was armed he would have brought more weapons. You hauled yourself up, hissing at the pain as you palm your injured shoulder to stem the bleeding. Another shirt ruined. You stagger back to the centre of the room to get a better look at your assailant. Din was doing his best not to panic, a task made increasing difficulty with all the sharp objects being pressed into his body. He could feel a makeshift blade digging in dangerously close to his rib cage. The bartender, Kintara, had a rifle aimed, not at his head, but at the unprotected flesh between his head and his shoulders, covered only by a few layers of fabric. “I say we kill him now and toss his body in the pit and be back before dinner,” grumbled a voice from behind him. He dared not say a thing, waiting for you to make the next move. He was a Mandalorian, a proud warrior, a fine bounty hunter and he would not resort to bargaining for his life...yet. “Easy Karma. Let’s find out what our trigger-happy friend here knows first,” you spoke clearly for all to hear. An order disguised as a suggestion. You were the law around here. He watched as you sauntered over to him, cradling your injured shoulder, equal parts furious, amused and intrigued at the events that had just unfolded. Din’s breath caught in his throat as you got the closest you had been, crouching down to his level. This was his first real chance to look at you, the woman he was to bring in.
You were beautiful, like a sunrise to be seen nowhere else in the galaxy, or so Din thought. Your hair was dishevelled, yet your face was girlishly aglow with accomplishment, despite the few cuts and bruises forming from your brief brawl.
Your eyes had a mischievous twinkle as you fluttered your eyelashes cheekily at the captive Mandalorian. Your mouth held that familiar small smile. He recognised that smile. It was one he wore many times after a successful hunt.  It was the smile of a predator who had cornered its prey.
“Knock him out and bring me Nebala. I’ll deal with this one myself,” you spoke calmly, standing to your full height and surveying the damage to your bar.
Din didn’t have a chance to protest before a dart hit him in the neck and he slumped with a thud to the floor.
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kirishwima · 4 years
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for the soulmate AU thing could i ask for 8 or 9 with jumin?
ok so i had to go with no. 9 bc...the potENTIAL!!!
9. Anything you draw/write on your own skin appears on your soulmate’s.
* Jumin used to love waking up to little notes and doodles from his soulmate when he was younger-they first started appearing when he was about 9 or 10, first at incospicuous places like his wrists or forearms, little notes like a ‘hi!’ or a smiley face and whatnot
* He’d smile at the little doodles and messy handwriting, writing back with thin line markers and fine handwriting, be it a greeting or a smiley face with cat ears, there’d be a little exchange between the two at least once every day
* But as he grew older people started to scold him for the ink on his skin, his teachers would frown, tell him to cover up, his dad and whichever person he’d be dating at the time would roll their eyes whenever they saw doodles of cats on his arms, be it once he or his soulmate drew.
* “There’ll be a time and place to meet them”, his dad would tell him, giving him a wet cloth to wipe the ink away, “you can write down a formal letter to them at that time. Until then, keep your manners, please” he’d suggest, only it was never a suggestion, not really, the ‘please’ so ironic on his lips it dripped venom.
* With everything going on around him, Jumin’s replies to his soulmate’s doodles became sparse and cold, until they started to stop all together.
* Only...his soulmate didn’t seem to give up.
* They’d write something to him every day, asking if he was ok, if there’s something wrong-they were worried at first, wondering if something happened and that’s why Jumin had stopped replying. 
* One day he was washing up, preparing for the day when he saw big bold letters on his arm-’ARE YOU OKAY?! :(’ it wrote, and he sighed down at the words, grabbing a pen from his desk to make a hasty reply. 
* “We’re too old for this”, he scribbled down on his wrist, “stop it”, and with that he covered up his arms with a striped shirt, ignoring any further communication.
* His soulmate persisted, writing on their arms, on their legs sometimes-once Jumin found an angry face doodled on his inner thigh, staring angrily up at him as he went to take a shower. He bit back a smile at the thought of his soulmate furiously doodling that only for him to see, carrying on with his shower as normal.
* One day though. One day.
* He woke up as normal, only his alarm hadn’t gone off, hence he ran through his daily routine, not even stopping to take a glance at himself in the mirror-he brushed his teeth as he got dressed, and ran to the elevator that took him down to the parking lot and to his limousine, ignoring the odd stares his bodyguards gave him, the raised brow Driver Kim had the moment he laid eyes on Jumin.
* It was only when he reached his office, where Jaehee awaited him, when she gasped, choking on her sip of coffee as he walked in and greeted her, asking for his morning report.
* He could’ve sworn she was laughing, but before he could ask what’s so funny, she simply turned around, running out of his office before rushing back in a moment later, a compact mirror in hand.
* “Sir I-I think you really need to see this” she said, pushing the mirror in his hands.
* With a frown he took it, bringing it up to his face.
* On his forehead, with big bold letters, were the words ‘CAT LOVING MEME’ written, along with a doodle of a cat on his cheek, a crudely drawn...something, on the other cheek.
* Jumin blushed a furious red, sinking down to his knees. He’s not one to be embarassed, not one to be bothered by what other people think of him-but to think that his soulmate is also sporting this same face right now, possibly running around town with the same words and doodles on their face...?!
* He sighed, asking Jaehee to cancel all his appointments for the day before he looked around his office for an appropriate marker.
* “C&R main office, tomorrow, 8a.m. Ask for Jumin Han, and don’t be late.” he wrote on his arm, as big and clear as possible. If this is how his soulmate wanted to play, then so be it. He’d scold them for this behavior, and ask them to stop-it was high time they met anyway.
* That night Jumin was unable to sleep, nursing a glass of wine in his hand as he walked around the house, looking to his arms longingly. Would his soulmate really not reply to his message, even after that whole fiasco? Did they even see his message? What if they didn’t? What if they did but didn’t show up? Why...why did Jumin even care so much in the first place?
* It was late at night, or rather early in the morning as he lay down on the couch with Elizabeth in his lap, his shirt abandoned on the floor as he’d looked all over his arms and chest for a response, but to no avail, when he felt a prickle on his wrist, right at the pulse point.
* He lifted his hand, looked at the fluttering beat where a response was finally scribbled.
* “I can’t wait to see you, Jumin.”
* The man was already smitten and he had yet to even meet them, hoooo boy
-listen i love these doodle-soulmate AUs bc im a menace that constantly writes on myself so my soulmate would be doomed to memes on their hands 24/7 lmao
-send me a mystic messenger headcanon for character(s) reactions!-
-soulmate headcanons list-
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THE HERO YOU NEED
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. Chapter Two .
- Chapter One here -
if there were ever anyone close to being the personification of perfection, it would be Cedric Diggory.
The older boy was a hit with the first-years, and everyone else actually. He was kind and informative, making sure the younger ones were made to feel welcome and comforted. You watched with interest as he animatedly explained how the Hogwarts staircases worked to the crowd of students behind him, fiddling with your wand as always. Following behind slowly, your mind began to wander as you blocked out the noises surrounding you.
Hufflepuff was a choice you’d made after careful deliberation; their house values most matched what you wanted yourself to achieve as a wizard. You were no stranger to the history of Beauvais wands; their propensity for dark magic contributed to much of the doubt surrounding Seraphina Picquery in her earlier days. But she made her place, as will you yours. Your dream was to become a living counter to dark magic; someone who could strengthen all aspects of magic through extensive study of its usages, dark magic included. Your wand was powerful, and held exactly the kind of power you needed if you were to be able to research your goals as extensively as possible. Magical application was one thing, but learning how magic affected the body as thoroughly as possible would prove to be an invaluable asset to the fundamental understanding of magical power to begin with. Hufflepuffs were similar to Pukwudgies in that sense; their members were often curious and good-natured, usually going on to have careers that were based in care.
After the incident as a child, you wanted nothing more but for others to never have to go through such a thing again, even if you had to study the usage of the very dark magic you were so afraid of.
A sudden emptiness beneath you snapped you out of your thoughts, your body suddenly being jerked back and into open arms.
“Are you okay?” 
Frantically panted the lips near your ear. Your heart was pounding, and all thoughts in your head flew out the window. What on earth happened? Why...
“You nearly got yourself killed! Were you listening at all?” that same voice scolded. You finally snapped out of your thoughts, turning your head only to meet with someone’s chest. Your nose met with a soft, warm and good heavens, he smells like caramel --  neck before trailing upwards, coming face to face with one very flustered Cedric Diggory. Desperately piecing your scattered brain together, you realized that you two were standing just a foot back from where a staircase had previously been; now just an empty abyss that you’d nearly walked right into. 
“I’m so sorry!” you stuttered.
“My mind was elsewhere.” 
“And was elsewhere worth nearly falling to your doom?” he raised a brow. You almost apologized again before you noticed the suppressed quirk of his lip - he was making fun of you. You rolled your eyes and pulled away, only just registering how close you two still were. He let his arms fall from around your shoulders, his hand lingering in your hair for just a moment before brushing it off your shoulder as it fell. 
“Maybe,” you teased, resuming your trailing of the first years, now following behind another well-meaning senior.
“Was I that boring?” Cedric grinned, twirling to face you as he walked backwards. The irony of the boy who just chided you for not watching your step walking backwards just to speak to you was not lost on you, and a mirthful smile painted your lips. His cinnamon-brown locks were swept out of his face, cheeks seemingly forever flushed a lovely red hue. You’d known him for all of two minutes and could already tell he possessed a magnetic charm. He reminded you of one of your friends back at Ilvermorny, Ben, and the smile on your face grew wider.
“Not really, but if you were half as klutzy as you are charming, I’d think I was in the wrong country,” you replied thoughtlessly. You could tell from the confused look on Cedric’s face that the sentiment was lost on him, so you rushed to fill in the blanks.
“I mean -- you remind me of my friend is all. For all the charm that oozes out of Ben, I swear he lacks the same amount of grace,” you sniggered, delighting at the thought of your awkward (yet somehow still immensely popular) friend. 
“You guys are around the same age, too.” you added. 
Cedric slowed to a stop in front of you, forcing you to stop as well. He leaned in close, close enough for you to smell the sweet scent of the chocolate frogs on his breath that he’d no doubt eaten on the train -- before bringing a hand up to rest on your head.
“All I’m getting from that comparison is that you think I’m charming,” he said. Face burning, you brush his hand aside as he lets out a loud laugh, stepping back. You feel him sling his arm around your shoulders as you guys start walking again, a rather familiar act for such a stranger. You found yourself rather comforted by his presence, a welcome reminder of the warmth of your friends back home you’d been missing. 
“Rather familiar already, Cedric?” you ask pointedly. Cedric raises both brows at you this time, tightening his grip.
“I’d say we’re best friends already, wouldn’t you? You even called me Cedric!” he joked.
“That’s because I’m an American,” you rolled your eyes. “It’ll take some getting used to the whole last-name-basis you lot like to use. It seems too...unfamiliar.”
A blast of cool air hit your face as your group passed the Great Hall once again, seeming to come to the end of its tour.
“Well, I’d be glad to be a familiar face for you,” Cedric offered. “First name basis and all...(Y/F/N)?”
You let out a giggle at the questioning tilt of his head, before nodding enthusiastically. 
“Thank you,” you said gratefully. “You don’t need to pity me though. If that’s what you’re doing.”
“Not at all,” he responded. “I think we’re on our way to becoming best friends already, actually.”
The cheeky grin on his face was enough to break down the last of your walls, a smile blowing across your face as well. As you two chattered away, a certain blonde haired boy was watching you from across the hall. Still ~salty~ about your abrupt change in attitude during the two of you’s conversation earlier, you’d been on Draco Malfoy’s mind ever since. And when you were sorted into Hufflepuff house, he’d decided that you certainly would fit in amongst those muggle-loving, tree hugging weirdos anyways. But despite that, he still felt a weird thump in his chest when the sorting hat was finally placed on you; as if it would agree with him that you needed to be amongst Slytherins, where you truly belonged. And seeing you laughing alongside Cedric Diggory reminded him of a few hours earlier, when you were laughing with him — or maybe at him, but whatever — and he also decided he didn’t like that. Draco almost found himself marching over to confront you before he remembered that Cedric Diggory was a full three years his senior, and a skilled enough wizard that by the time his father heard the news he’d have probably already spent a few days in the Hogwarts infirmary, hexed to oblivion. While cursing his age and how it’s the sole thing keeping him from giving you a piece of his mind, Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when you suddenly turned and made eye contact with him. Giving him a large wave, the smile on your face suddenly convinced Draco that he’d do anything to see it again, and any earlier rudeness on your part was thrown out the window. Weren’t you angry still? Wasn’t he angry still? Lost in thought, Draco didn’t notice his friend coming up behind him until he felt Blaise’s hand drop heavily on his shoulder. He flinched, immediately turning his back on the Hufflepuffs across the hall. “What are you staring at, man?” Blaise inquired. “Nothing at all,” he said defensively, moving his body even more in order to block his friend’s view. The other boy looked at him in suspicion before shrugging, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before steering him towards the doors. “Flint’s talking about organizing the tryouts for this year,” said Blaise. “We should go check it out.” Nodding his head along to whatever else Blaise was mumbling in his ears, Draco felt the annoying compulsion to turn around once more. Stifling the persistent feeling, he swaggered out of the Great Hall. But, he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were still on him or on Diggory.
A/N: this chapter is shorter because as I said in a previous post it’s been sitting in my drafts and I just wanted to get it put out. This is also really more of a bridge chapter. My MacBook crashed so I wasn’t able to write more and I got annoyed with my phone bc I feel like it inhibits my creative juices :( I’ll try and get ch 3 out soon! Lmk if I should create a tag list :)
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phoebehalliwell · 3 years
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Hello, I just wanted to say I'm a major Charmed fan and love all four sisters! That being said, as much as I love Paige, I've still always hated that Prue had to die (even though it's been over 20 years, I'm still not over it), and I hate even more that Prue and Phoebe's relationship never had a chance to truly recover from her lie about Cole. Also , I think could see why you shipped Prue/Jack, there relationship certainly had a Moonlighting like dynamic to it, didn't it?
yeah wait we did just clear the twenty year anniversary of prue dying in may huh crazy how time works but like. like okay because ik the whole the way the story goes was ~they didn't know if they were killing off shannen or alyssa~ they left it ~open ended bc they didn't know which sister would die~ but like. they knew. oh bro they so knew. like dude. phoebe got a hot new steamy love interest filled w drama and intrigue who was like integral to the plot after basically two seasons of being love-interest-less prue got what? justin?? prue got an episode coming to terms w the fact she will die. like. they knew okay. and like. what breaks my heart is prue as a character like deserved So Much More like she deserved to break free of this narrative of matriarchal sacrifice that she had been locked into like prue practically had to sacrifice her childhood to raise us yeah yeah but like bro there are genuinely so few places where she got to like actually experience life outside of protecting her sisters and then she died protecting her sisters like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. like bro u knew u were going to kill her and you end her & phoebe on that. even if we're sticking with the narrative they didn't know which sister would die there was the very conscious choice to end the narrative on that. so like. 🤬
of course like. tbh. i don't think prue & phoebe's relationship needs to like fully like "recover" from cole i don't think this is nearly as big of a rift as say roger bc i think between the past three years like they've really grown as people and have a new respect for one another that really had yet to be unearthed in it pilot but it's still like. like phoebe was in the underworld trying to save cole when prue died (& piper almost died!!) and we never do see her grapple with that. like even when we're sowing seeds of doom by making cole the source and have phoebe go full dark side like even in the midst of tanking phole we never bother to get some good old fashioned anger self hatred and making the wrong choice like. like that good have been really fun.
but then!! circling over 2 prue/jack bc i do really love prue/jack i think like my favorite thing about it is like. just like how fun and stupid it is. like. like okay so for starters i will say i love the idea of jack as the one to be prue's first real love interest after andy because with andy like you really did have this whole childhood friends to lovers this deep mutual understanding and trust and love and passion like definitely set up to vibe like soulmatism and then he fuckin bites the dust. but like. it's 1999. it's shannen doherty. she can't be an shw forever like you need your female characters to have love interests that's just kind of the way the world works but how do you top andy? how do you beat like the love of her life her perfect man? do you try to go well here's her perfect-er man,, this one's even better than before!! that we did so many countless times with phoebe no because that shit's fucking stupid instead they said here's jack sheridan & he fuckin sucks. & i love it i really do for starters excellent representation for women who are into lame ass guys like i know it's easy to say like haha i'm into guys and aren't they all lame but i'm talking specifically a man being lame is what makes him unreasonably sexy it's a mental condition i know i suffer from it it's bad but it's also like. really funny. but it's also bad. but that's not the point. the point is prue/jack was always supposed to be something kind of stupid something with an imminent expiration date you know? this is not andy. i mean from the moment we met andy we're like hearing wedding bells right from the moment we meet jack we're like ew wtf lol??? like both prue And jack know goddamn well entering this relationship that this is pointless. this is only here to end. and yet!! in spite of that!!! genuine love blossoms!!!! like. whether or not prue was ever in love with jack is definitely debatable i don't think she ever was like in love with him per se mainly because she didn't like. she didn't want to be. she didn't want to do love again that wasn't the point of this relationship so she's not gonna do it. and then for jack theoretically it should be the same thing because like he does constantly play it so nonchalant like he's not head over heels fucking in love with her but he is!!!! he took this relationship that was meant to be casual and stupid and over in a month and he fuckin blew it man he fell So So In Love With Her. like. drives me crazy it does i love that dynamic. and there was something there from prue's side too like. like over and over again she's telling him like you're not the guy for me you're not the guy i'm going to end up with But right now you're the one i want. like. like she has this vision definitely this andy-like figure someone who will you know be the stable father to her kids and her steady husband for many many years to come and her brain's going yeah no way that's jack but at the same time she doesn't care??? like, she likes him right now? she wants to spend time with him right now??? like fuck that potential future mr. right because he's not the one prue wants to spend time with right now she'd rather spend the night with jack like!!!!!! there are some vastly underrated dynamics going on with pruejack that definitely make me start munching on drywall every time i talk about them but like Oh My God. them <3. lol.
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ribinapan · 4 years
Text
meteorgazing
hello everybody here is an original piece of writing i was kinda proud of bc im trying to post on social media more.
prompt - aliens receive signals from Us (as in the US)
they are from proxima b and i will give more worldbuilding info if yall interested ok here we go :’)
--
one - meteorgazing
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notes -
opi - (two earth days)
rings - (eleven earth days)
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We get a lot of meteors.
Reason 50678 the surface isn’t safe-- no atmosphere means no pushback. Rocks hurtling from the sky aren’t quite uncommon. There’s not much damage to anything but what they hit. Of course, while it’s scary to watch, it doesn’t do much but cause a roofquake-- a rumbling beginning from the Seeing Dome to the rest of the tunnels. There’s been some incidents, some injuries and some deaths- like everything, it’s something swept away as a horrible- but normal- natural disaster, and most of the time it’s not much more than a little shiver. Really. People in the city at the time tend to gather just to watch. There’s something memorizing about watching a hurtling ball of rock slam into the face of our planet at high speeds while completely ablaze.
Even with the commonplace activity of gathering in the center of the city to watch space rocks fall dangerously close to our Seeing Dome, however, I never thought we would go so far as to make a surface dome just to watch one of the biggest showers yet to date. It was dangerous enough as is-- really, it was-- so I wasn’t particularly interested to watch in any case- yes, a little bit curious about it, but the feeling was quickly stomped out by fear and replaced with a sense of resignation. There was always Holowatch-- a projected hologram from your home holodevice to show you the news-- mostly surface stuff, or from City Twenty, where the biggest political station we had throughout the cluster of cities was placed.
But then there was Ama. Ama, with his bright eyes and his huge grin, practically shivering with excitement as he rushed me in line to get a ticket. We didn’t have enough money for the usual, so he entered us into contests basically any chance he got-- I wasn’t worried, and no way by all the gods would they curse me so much by--
“Elli! I got it-- look, I got two!” Tickets waved in the air for the first ever surface dome built specifically for watching meteor showers in our tunnel, I felt my heart sink as I made eye contact with Ama, beaming more than I had ever seen before.
There was something about Ama and his excitement that just pulled you in and shoved away your rationality. The way he smiled made you feel like you had to do anything to preserve it-- maybe because it was so hard to get him like this, maybe because love blinds you to even the stupidest of ideas. I flattened my sweatshirt against my chest nervously and grinned back, taking my ticket out of his hand. Three rings until disaster and we had free tickets to watch.
For the next three rings, every opi I woke up to a message about strange noises coming from a sector we call Terra, holding a planet that astronomers deemed safest and most habitable for intelligent life like us. Or about giant meteor showers. Or about how rare we are to get huge rocks falling from the sky hurtling at the surface in a desperate attempt to show us the way to our doom and them staying the size they do. And it was adorable, really. Usually it was me, and usually it was seventy messages about something boring from me, and so with a sense of duty I read everything Ama sent and poured as much excitement into a response as I could. 
We’re going to die! Screamed my brain, but by the sun god was I dumb enough to be happy to go along with it.
We weren’t the only tunnel with a surface dome ready for the watching, either. City Twenty had the biggest, and far on the other side of the Habitation Line was 9296- the longest lasting surface dome with even a small bit of surface travellers living on it. Of course, they had underground homes to sleep in, but they spent most of their waking hours up on the surface. Everyone knew about it, and Ama swore he wanted to be one of them one day. I wondered how it’d feel to be watching this from there-- normal? Did they see meteor showers all the time? Were they afraid it might hit the dome every time they saw one screeching towards them faster than an Aquatrain? Not for the first time and definitely not for the last, I closed my eyes to sleep before we went up to our tunnel’s first surface dome with only one thought, an absolute certainty: oh my gods, we’re going to die.
When I woke up, I found myself wandering to Ama’s home with an even stronger sense of resignation and a desire to not be alone with it. Immediately upon arrival, I was met with the most excited four-eyed gaze I’ve ever been locked in-- and there it went again, I knew I was going to do this and be just fine with it.
His chatter continued, rising as the time got closer to head up to the surface dome, and often I found myself opening my mouth to share a fact just to keep him going.
“Did you know space tastes like rubusberries?” I heard myself saying, “Do you think the rocks taste like that, too?” He stopped for a moment, frozen on the sidewalk on our way to the train to the surface dome just to stare at me. Bubbling up with laughter, he tossed his head forward in a snort,
“Are you planning to taste the meteor, Elli?” My face heated up in embarrassment, but I bit my tongue and then shot back a response. “Maybe! I mean, it’s good research! A lot of things can be identified through taste!” “Local child just up and dies because they went outside to taste a space-rock.” “At least I’d know if it tasted like rubusberries!”
Rubusberries stayed the topic for a bit longer, the topic clinging to our tongues until it faded away into excited shivering as we stepped in line for the train. It hit me like a solar flare, making me bubble with anticipation that I really was excited, too- I wanted to see it, and I wanted to see Ama see it. The voice screaming ‘we’re going to die!’ finally dulled down to a whisper in the back of my mind.
Hey, at least it’ll be interesting.
Once on the aquatrain, I watched the train-tunnel fill with water as Ama listened to the rest of the train’s quiet, excited chatter. My hands gripped the edges of my seat as I watched it slowly bubble up above my window, bracing myself for the kickback of the train shooting through the water. It was interesting technology, really, but the amount of malfunctions I’d read about had me uneasy every time I was on one. One glance at Ama told me he didn’t as much as I did- if at all- so I bit my tongue and watched as the train suddenly lurched forward, shooting through the water and up towards the surface.
Here we go.
Suddenly, there was a chaotic ball of energy at my shoulder, pressing his hand against the window as we watched ourselves shoot up towards the danger, up towards new experiences and life on the surface yet to come.
“It’s funny we’re going full circle. Surface to underground to surface.” I murmured.
“Now we know what we’re doing. We hadn’t evolved enough before. The sun god knew we’d kill ourselves up there.” He replied simply, and the casual tone of his voice made me choke on laughter.
“Then why are we going up there now?” “To prove him wrong out of spite!” Cheered Ama, leaning over me to press both hands against the window. “Look, there it is!”
Look I did, and like he said, there it was. A giant, metallic door that looked unopenable by any number of Centaurians, and yet it slid open and let the water slosh to the side as the train pressed forward and through it, coming to land and slide against the top of the tunnel as we made our way to the surface dome entrance.
I won’t lie. I screamed.
“Elli. Elli, we’re fine! This is how trains work! Elli!” Climbing the rest of the way to the entrance was much less scary, as there were stairs and stairs are solid and won’t explode under too much water pressure, certainly since there’s no water. A muffled voice boomed over speakers we couldn’t see, giving us directions we couldn’t hear-- and then the crowd started moving, so we followed. Metallic doors that looked a little more manageable by Centaurian hands slid open with a slow, painful screech in front of us- and there it was, above the slope we were climbing: another Seeing Dome. This one above the tunnels.
Ama basically squealed-- and as I was jerked away from the line by excited hands, we pushed our way to the front as Ama stared at the stars above us. Closer than ever now, our feet hit red dust and we looked up to see the sky now only separated by a dome and not red rock all around us. It felt scarily empty-- up here, there were no tall walls or caves all around us. From every angle, there was sky.
“This is literally amazing.” He breathed beside me. “Yeah.” I said back with much less air, absolutely slammed by a feeling of sheer surrealism. You could see so far-- the dark line and the light line, where the heat and cold gods warred from afar. The horizon was much more beautiful in person than in pictures.
“Elli, look!” We were now the only people standing by the entrance, the others wandering to the edges of the Seeing Dome to get a better look. To my absolute dismay, however, what should’ve been the safest spot to stand-- right beside the exit-- was where a small meteor was heading, sending itself straight at us. 
Ama watched it with wide eyes. I watched it with a wince. It was beautiful-- it really was, watching them streak the sky, and the surface, and our Safety Dome, but watching it hit with a Clank! still gave me a shiver.
Wait.
Wrinkling my nose as I squinted up at it, I tugged Ama’s hand as my feet began to move on their own. Following it as the burning ball of-- well, whatever it was, slid towards an unoccupied side of the Dome, Ama stumbled behind me. “Elli, where are we going? We’re going to miss the rest of it!” “It shouldn’t have made that noise.” I said back, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Elli, you’re nuts.” “It was metallic. It clanked. Ama, it clanked. That’s not a meteor. That’s something someone made.”
And suddenly we were both speeding towards it, Ama whooping and me with my head spinning, stumbling and hitting the side of the dome as we stared down at a mess of melted metal and a white substance bearing a strange, rectangular logo-- red stripes and a blue corner, with what looked like misshapen stars decorating the blue bit. Strange text in bold letters sat above it, smeared and burnt as the capsule remained aflame.
“ALIENS!” Ama shrieked, jumping up and down. He punched my shoulder. “Take that, everybody! ALIENS!!!”
We weren’t the only ones who found something.
Holowatch was projected all over the city as capsules popped up all over the planet. 9296 got two. City Twenty got one. Another surface dome found half of one. Cities were rushing to build more or get Centaurians on the surface to find more. They came with garbled audio-- messages we couldn’t understand. But what sent everyone reeling was the one we found-- it was the sound of another animal, not the intelligent life that kept trying to talk to us. Something big-- something that sounded like our own creatures, a series of clicks, whistles and pulsed calls. Biologists rushed to identify it-- but it was soon determined not to be one of our own, just something close. It was big, most likely lived underwater, but used the same noises ours did to get around-- they used sound for navigation.
There was no doubt about it, there was life on Terran.
“We discovered aliens.” Ama wouldn’t stop saying. “Not us.” “We found it first!” “9296 found theirs thirty-two blinks before we found ours.”
“Second! We discovered aliens second!” “...Fine. Second.” “Aliens, Elli!”
“I hear you, Ama.” I said with fake exasperation, watching him pace around his room. 
“We found it. We should get to see what they do with it.” “We are literally children, they weren’t going to let us help.” I said slowly, eyeing him suspiciously as he stopped walking across the room. He looked up at me and grinned.
“Am-- no. No, absolutely not. Whatever you’re thinking is a big, fat, nope.”
He continued grinning, taking a step towards me as his expression melted into something akin to affection mixed with excitement. The mischief was there-- I could see it. Feel it. But rationality slipped away as he grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s just try to sneak around. It’s not like we’ll even get anywhere with it!”
I let out a heavy sigh as I quietly threw my life into ruin. I unleash the sun god upon you, aliens. Why do you do this to me?
“...Fine.”
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