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#and resent each other for living the life they want to live
shinelikethunder · 5 hours
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i don't actually think teenage Dean Winchester would be spurned-lover-style jealous of teenage Sam's girlfriends i think based on his s1 behavior that it's far more likely he went "HELL YEAH my little brother is DATING he is going to SLAY at this and i'll make sure of it," unilaterally appointed himself Sam's wingman, had to be beaten back with a stick from micromanaging his brother's love life, and probably lovingly fantasized about all the hot chicks Sam was gonna hook up with and all the things they'd get up to because let's face it, who wouldn't fall head over heels for the guy? (speculation about kissing practice, which of course Would Not Count as anything except making sure the little nerd did their family proud, is left as an exercise to readers who are so inclined.)
also probably the closest thing to a jealous shitfit he pulled involved one (1) time Sam ditched a hunt to be there for his then-girlfriend's Important Life Event, and it'd be like 40% loudly-expressed "he should be putting his FAMILY first" and 60% ferociously-suppressed "we don't get to just DO that! if i've accepted only ever being able to date super casually for a few weeks at a time before we blow town then where the fuck does he get off thinking he can just PRIORITIZE this COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP BEHAVIOR bullshit. that i tooootally don't want or care about anyway. because it's for SISSY NORMIE LOSERS, not a tight-knit clan of ULTRA-COOL SECRET MONSTER HUNTERS like us"
like i think Dean did accept much more readily, long before he could even realize the ramifications of what he was accepting, that the way they lived meant the Winchesters' only long-term relationship option was "rampant emotional incest that we don't have to acknowledge as long as we all only bang girls," but he also canonically had all kinds of festering resentment about missing out, and was aware on some level that their lives required the sacrifice of a lot of things he secretly longed for (and made a lot of noise about devaluing in favor of What's More Important)
and the toxic cocktail of that + envy of Sam's ability to just go "nah fuck expectations i want something else" + boundary-challenged investment/enabling/policing of each other's heterosexual exploits as a bulwark between their family dynamics and The Unspeakable + freakout over the early warning signs of a difference in values on family loyalty + inchoate terror of losing him to the outside world one day + unthinking idolization and projection along the lines of "well of course this girlfriend would take him away from us and wrap her entire life around his if she could, i mean, have you met him? who wouldn't want that? this is WHY we have to keep it casual and not get girls' expectations up"...
...the entire dynamic of Dean being Sam's number one hookup cheerleader but also perceiving signs of romance/commitment as a threat... s1 Dean trying to have a hand in pushing him towards actual romantic prospects anyway, because he's worried about Sam grief-spiraling and has reluctantly accepted that the rupture in the family is about things Sam genuinely wants, even as Sam's grief is already driving him to the conclusion that they aren't worth the cost and meanwhile the brothers have spent all season bonding even closer and more claustrophobically as adults...
well, i think all that is way more interesting, and in many ways even more fucked-up, than applying bog-standard jealous boyfriend tropes to the absolute mess of their upbringing
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full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?
The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC
Julian
He's sorry
There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect
He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be
Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you
But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy
The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it
And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone
Asra
Oh, how they used to miss this version of you
There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now
But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back
And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love
As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation
He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are
Nadia
She's ... humbled, a little
The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city
But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates
You're ... normal
Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was
Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out
So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband
All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth
Muriel
Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him
There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent
Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -
What do you see when you look at him?
The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator
Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner
He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other
But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him
Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow
Portia
She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed
Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed
Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look
And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed
Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you
And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her
She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now
And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now
But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first
Lucio
Oh. Ohhh boy
You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self
But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more
And he doesn't like the way you look at him
There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best
You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better
At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him
He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first
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hadesoftheladies · 2 days
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too many people view (uncritically, esp when it comes to feminism) separatism as this isolating, individualistic thing where people who don't want to participate just pack their bags and move to a far off country. that isn't what it is at all.
separatism is about re-centering the individuals of a certain community so as to strengthen the community. so that a community focuses its energy and resources on itself rather than on outsiders. it is, quite literally, about building and expanding community. it's not merely about escaping men or banning men, it is about relying on women, building a community of women, centering women, making it so that women are not dependent on men because women got them. you see how that's qualitatively different right?
like it's not so much about cutting off your father or brothers, but about spending deliberately more time fortifying your relationships with other women in your life. whether helping them out financially, donating books, giving advice, buying their stuff, giving energy.
when it comes to revolution of any kind, they die quickly without a strong sense and presence of community.
one of the biggest wrenches patriarchy has thrown into women's liberation is poisoning female community. consciousness-raising is difficult because every new generation of women is cut off from the one preceding it. younger girls are taught to resent women and view women with suspicion. they are male-centric in that they believe males will protect, love, provide for and cherish them only to have a rude awakening sooner or later.
bridging that disconnect is going to take practicing varying degrees of separatism. for sharing of knowledge between women and girls is hampered by male presence. you've all seen this happen. when a man or boy enters the picture, conversation between women is crippled. we start censoring ourselves.
censorship is a huge issue feminists face at every turn, and it's worse because we experience this censorship not just via government or public forums where men are in charge, but in our interpersonal relationships. and not just in our interpersonal relationships, but by our own selves. only female community brings out the honesty in us and gives us the courage to speak out and think freely. we all know this.
separatism is not only imperative to women's health, it is imperative to consciousness raising. it's not about living in a male free utopia but about centering women in all things so that women's community is strengthened and prepared to take on their oppressors and patriarchal society (and so that it survives retaliations). girls don't need to be totally isolated from males. they need to have predominantly female (not feminine) influence in their lives. they need to be in a place where they do not depend on males or cater to them. they need to be female-centric. learning female-philosophy and perpetuating authentic female culture.
that's separatism.
and the good news is that feminists are not the first oppressed group to employ separatism. black liberation movements employ this as well and are strengthened when they do. it's how they won some of their most vicious battles. lgb communities also utilize(d) separatism and it strengthened their communities. they had to de-center the narratives of their oppressors and rely on each other instead of begging their oppressors for scraps. they won because they gave themselves to each other as a community.
separatism works. over and over again. liberation takes time, but it has always needed separatism.
i just keep thinking about how communities can disrupt and change society, y'know? like how even in the throes of capitalistic/imperialist/white supremacist greed, small communities find a way to take care of each other financially and physically. culture predates economy, even while economy can beget culture or poison it. i love how small communities can just say "fuck you" to the presiding ruler and create within themselves micro-economies to keep each other alive. economy is just, after all, a social agreement/condition.
women are the ones who will liberate women. keep investing in that and it'll pay off.
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secretmellowblog · 1 year
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My husband is a man who collects things he can use. A pistol, a pocket-watch, a woman's love, a wife....
I'm obsessed with That Scene(tm) between Katya and Andrei in the California Director's Cut Rerelease of Goncharov, so I did a lighting study inspired by the film's Art Deco Posters! Little details like Katya never referring to her husband by his first name really add to Andrey and Katya's tense dynamic, which is one of the most underrated parts of the movie imo.
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eggtqrt · 3 months
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the thing about the charming siblings is i want to make them tragic. you're perfect, I wish I was perfect. you're allowed to not be perfect. I resent you for being perfect. I hate you for being imperfect. I want to be a boy. I want to be a knight. I want to be you. I could be better than you. I wish your destiny was mine. I wish people loved me the way they love you. I wish she loved me the way she loves you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I love you. I miss when we were friends. we never talk anymore. do you even care? you know nothing about me. you took my destiny. who am I? I'm supposed to be the responsible one. don't leave me. get away from me. when did you grow out of being a little kid? i miss home. the only place that feels like home is you. do you love her? do you love me? brother. sister. i was supposed to protect you. I'm sorry. I forgive you. nothing will ever be the same again.
it's about perfection and performance. it's about playing roles. everyone has their role to play. what if i want to be something else, something more. it's about femininity and masculinity. it's about not fitting in to either. is it about who you're supposed to be or who you want to be? I did it for you. I didn't ask for that. I'd burn the world for you. you never cared about me. I think of you always. there isn't room enough for all of us. i wish you'd never been born at all. I couldn't live without you.
#the thing about dexter and darling is they have a lot of parallels#they both thought their love interests (raven and apple) liked daring#they both wish they were like daring (though in different ways)#neither of them have a confirmed destiny#but at the same time dexter gets to be a prince and do the things she wants to do#and i think Dexter is sort of jealous of her because as another prince he gets compared to daring more#Dexter resents his siblings for being seemingly perfect and he also resents darling for how she doesnt even have to be perfect#bc she doesnt get compared to daring in his eyes#darling does feel the need to be perfect though and resents that she can't live the life she wants but her brothers get that life#daring TO ME has a superiority complex to cover up his flaws bc hes severely scared of being imperfect#but at the same time he wishes he was allowed to be imperfect bc the pressure is killing him#hes relied on false bravado for so long that he doesn't know who is without that especially when he loses his destiny#so he resents darling for her effortless confidence in who she is#i think they all used to be super close and daring felt like the one who needed to protect his siblings#but they grew apart as they got older and started to resent each other and he lost that protective instinct#but they all miss when they were closer#i think daring realizes he was “supposed” be the one protecting his siblings once darling starts protecting/saving him#to darling its too late for him to protect her bc she can protect herself and doesnt want to be protected#to dexter though i think a part of him wishes daring stood up for and protected him more#they all desperately need to be flawless but its killing them#and they all desperately want to be each other#and they all just want their siblings back#but they can't go back to when they were children#and they can't understand each other as they are now#but they love each other anyways#even as they resent each other#eah#ever after high#ignore that i wrote 50 million more things in the tags#i realize this may be out of character or whatever but idc
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jemmo · 2 years
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i love that the whole of that final ep is just all these characters setting themselves on the path of healing, that none of them are magically fixed, but instead are all committing to creating a world where not only they can heal, but where they can stop others from hurting. because it was never about a single person’s journey, it was about how a system managed to hurt and repress and ignore everyone in it, and how it’s only them wanting and fighting for better, for themselves and for the people they care about, that has the ability to destroy that system, and set in place a community that includes everyone. it’s only after the sun and moon have crossed each others passed, once the world has been shrouded in black, that clear blue skies can be seen again.
the eclipse, i love you.
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humanveil · 5 months
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discussion topic: dean winters comes back to cameo. on a scale of 1 to 10 what is the animosity level btwn brian and elliot
#need to know if i'm alone in thinking that it wouldnt be as explosive as fics make it out to be#terminal svu brainrot#like okay yeah yeah. I Get It. but also.#what reason does elliot have to resent brian other than misplaced self-hatred#assume they see each other. Assume Elliot Knows. yes i imagine he's pissed but is all that anger not directed at himself first#the girlies love a fist fight & okay yeah it Could be fun BUT. is brian not a stand in for himself?#would elliot not be hurting brian in lieu of hurting himself#is brian's hypothetical animosity not born from feeling defensive of LIV#lasting remnants of resentment because HE was there HE was with her at her lowest and he KNEW he wasnt who#she really wanted but he did it anyway because he loved her. he really did love her!#idk. i dont think they'd be friendly exactly#but i struggle to always buy the extreme hostility#like they're meatheads but also they are standing there tense as fuck gritting their teeth trying to rein it in for liv's sake#also cannot believe im saying this but i think there is a level of maturity w brian with this specific issue.#like he lived with elliot as the third person in his relationship the same way kathy lived with olivia as the third to her marriage#this is the man who was THERE who helped clean up her apartment and sat in that court room and told her she was the love#of his life and then followed it with 'you were never going to bear your soul to me'#like. do you get it. or is my memory of 2.0 that poor that i am wildly misreading the sitch
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pepprs · 1 year
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beaver gnawing on wood noises
#purrs#delete later#this is gonna be a bad / hard post and i’ll have to delete it. like it feels like in making it im invoking cosmic forces to show me karma or#idk like being an ingrate or whatever. but sometimes i find myself on social media rabbitholes looking at instagram pages of.. women who#like really genuinely appear to be good moms to their kids. and love them for who they are and don’t try to make them anything different.#and who celebrate their quirks and stuff. and even share interests with them at the bare minimum. and it just makes me want to sob. like the#knot in my throat. i shouldn’t do it bc i just hurt myself but it’s like. im so lucky i have a mom and that she provides for me. and i know#there are valid reasons for that being all she can do. but also why can’t she… idk.why can’t she ummm love me. or celebrate me. or find#magic in me. or at the very least accept my humanness and be open to me like giving her feedback on stuff. even tonight at this panel this o#one woman was like yeah my two daughters call me on stuff and im like you’re right. if i called my mom on stuff (and i do) she would give me#the silent treatment (and she has) or eviscerate me (and she has). and people in my work life and on here call me endearing and say all#these things. but it’s like none of it can fill up the absolute aching pulsing void that is… my mom. my mom!!!!! is just a person i live#with anr resent most of the time. who has hurt me so badly. and i could have had a mom who like. let me sing and didn’t mock me for it.#and who came in and said goodnight to me and my sister instead of leaving us to o ur own devices because we’re twins and we had each other.#and 14 years ago today was the day that fully cemented in that she could not be that kind of mom and would never be. and i know she tried so#hard and i know she has been hurt and is still hurting. but i just want to scream. like everyone deserves a mom who loves them for who they#are and shit. and how fucking unfair is it that.. like it sounds so selfish and entitled. b it how fucking unfair is it that i got a mom who#im afraid of and then there are people like fucking… m*lissa err*co and sh*ron wh*atley (those are just the famous ones) who by all#appearances seem to be like.. not only loving but open. seeing their children as human and magic all at once. instead of a war prize and a#symbol of their own hardships or whatever. like it’s just so fucking unfair. i hate that this is the way things are for me and that it will#never change and that if it ever does i have to be the one to change it or i have to heal from it and let go of it. like FUCK that! i want#love from my mom! FUCK the fact that she can’t give it to me!!! she has to!!!!!! but she won’t. idk. delete post <3#like so genuinely i should not be even typing these words bc god is gonna smite me now lol. but my heart is howling#and the shitty thing is i don’t think i’ll be able to be that kind of mom if i ever become one bc of how badly all of this has hurt me. and#bc of all that i don’t even think i want to become a mom anymore bc i don’t want to be the reason a child feels this way or grows up to.
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mayclair · 2 years
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the whole max and mike’s lives being foils of each other’s is so insane to me bc its like. for mike max is a representation of everything that could have happened to him if his mom left his dad earlier on (and what can still happen when you look at the way things are between them) and for max mike is a representation of everything that she could have had growing up if her mom hadn’t decided to leave her dad as fast as she did
#there is no way they don’t resent each other for it just a little bit. no fucking way sorry#mike knows max grew up with a shittier home life but still wishes his mom had the guts to do the same her mom did and left his dad bc#at the end of the day there is a little bit of bitterness towards both his parents for not making their relationship work out specifically#towards his dad bc his mom is actually involved in his life and did try to pretend that everything was normal when it wasnt which directly#ties into his desperate attempts to make his relationship with el seem normal to both of them when its not bc theyve both never been normal#they dont even know what normal really IS which also ties in to his very deep fear that the two of them will end up like his parents and so#meday he’ll become his dad and he doesn’t know which one is more terrifying so instead he blocks it all out in True Mike Wheeler FashionTM#and just keeps wishing that his mom left his dad because maybe if there was a distance between them when he was growing up maybe things wou#ldve been different maybe he wouldnt be this much like his dad#max on the other hand LOVES her dad they had one of those relationships where he wasn’t neglectful but wasn’t a great parent either but she#still loves him for trying and while her mom did try she gave up after a while while her dad didn’t. that was the real dealbreaker for max#and while after all this time she keeps saying im going to run away to cali and im going to live with my dad. but its not just the need to#see someone who cared for her the most during her early years its also the childish hope that her mom will notice that shes missing anf#come looking for her and that maybe when her parents finally meet again they can reconcile and get back together bc that is really all shes#ever wanted in her life since she was a kid and she feels bad for it bc she knows that her mom and dad’s relationship was never supposed to#last but she still wishes and wishes which is why that little bit of bitterness against mike will never fall away no matter how irrational#it is bc its like. his parents dont love each other but are still together for their kids. why couldnt my parents do the same? was i not en#ough reason for them? and this ties into her breaking up with lucas over and over again bc shes seen her parents and how they never fought#for each other and shes afraid that somewhere along the line her relationship with lucas will turn out the exact same and hell leave her so#its better to just leave now before it gets serious then later when it will hurt too much but lucas keeps coming back for her which makes#her realize that maybe it doesnt have to be like that maybe they wont be like her parents#anyway this is incoherent as fuck but shane mandej voice IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS#mike wheeler#max mayfield#stranger things
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anon-confesses · 2 years
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I want kids more than anything, But my girlfriend. Doesnt- I can have kids on my own since I'm a girl but. I'd risk losing her
I don't. Know what to do. My entire life all I have ever wanted is to be a mother. Thats all I want, Thats all I've ever wanted. I love her and I don't know how to come to a compromise
.
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Okay but Donna. DONNA. She gets to live her life with both her husband AND her platonic life partner. She'd wanted to be with him forever and now she CAN. She gets both a permanent romantic and permanent platonic partner. Who like each other. Who don't resent the other's existence. Do you understand how MONUMENTAL that is???
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popamolly · 2 months
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‘PRETTY GIRL!’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
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summary. lucifer gets jealous and wants to remind you that you belong to no one but him.
warning. smut, overstimulation, established relationship, you and lucifer are married, alastor gets flirty with you, lucifer is a soft dom, vibrator, squirting, semi-public sex??, please don’t fuck where people eat/make food lmao, 18+ minors dni, kinda proofread sorry
author’s note. this is a 500 followers special! thank you all so much for the constant love, enjoy sinners.
𖤐 MASTERLIST
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Lucifer and you had been frequenting the Hazbin Hotel ever since the tearful reunion between father and daughter. You didn’t mind, in fact, you encouraged it not just because you thrived off seeing your step-daughter Charlie and your husband happy but also because you would take any excuse to step out of that dreadful palace Lucifer and you called a home. It was just so boring and bland there where as the Hazbin Hotel was always lively and filled with some life threatening chaos that was exhilarating.
Now that you were back at the Hotel, you helped around whenever you could with enthusiasm. You were in charge of hanging up the banner that welcomed the new sinners but alas, the fixture was to high and your darling husband wasn’t anywhere in sight to help you.
As if sensing your distress, Alastor appeared from the shadow on the floor next to you with a wide grin, “Would you like some assistance, your majesty?”
“Yes, yes thank you.” You allowed Alastor lift you up onto his shoulder by your waist so you could tape up the banner. Once you found your balance, you began to quickly tape up one corner of the banner, trying to ignore the way Alastor’s fingers grazed along your thigh as he held you in place.
This was all a spectacle to be sure because you had no doubt that the radio demon could have manifested into something taller to help tape it up himself but you were sure this had something to do with his resentment toward your husband— though their feelings toward each other were mutual, “A little to the left Al…perfect, thank you.”
“Hoho, what is this?” The sound of your husband’s voice had you turning your head slightly to look at him just as Alastor set you back down on your feet with a knowing grin.
“Well, I—”
“I was only helping this darling damsel in distress as her husband was no where to be found,” Alastor’s grin widens as he turns to you with a respectful bow of his head, “If you need anything else, my dear. Anything at all. Do not hesitant to ask.” His staticky tone left a hint of suggestiveness that you picked up on and it left Lucifer practically seeing red. You cursed yourself being so caught up in helping Charlie that you didn’t mind accepting Alastor’s help for the simplest of tasks.
As you looked at Lucifer you realized that you should’ve maybe gotten a ladder before you even thought about letting the radio demon touch you because now you were going to pay the price for it.
And pay you did.
“W-Wait, Lucifer..!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pure bliss as Lucifer rocked his hips into you even though you already came You both still had a whole task of things to do before the new sinners arrived at the hotel but Lucifer couldn’t wait. The moment you stepped into the nearest room, which was the kitchen, he pounced on you. He laid you on the marble island counter, fumbling with his pants belt.
“What were you going to tell me? Not to worry about that freaky bastard?” Lucifer loomed over your figure with that playful grin, his tongue sticking out as he spread your legs wider for him, "What's wrong? hm? I bet he wishes he could fuck you like this.”
"I—fuck— was going to say that he was only helping me!" You part your lips, "P-Please, right there—!"
“Was he now?” Feeling that you were about to cum, Lucifer picked up the pace, his hand around your throat as he ruts into you ruthlessly. He was so pissed, so jealous— how dare that radio demon flirt with you? Touch you? Who did he think he was?
"You hear that?" Lucifer brought his hips back only to snap them forward again, the squelch sound that came from how wet you were had your whole body heating up, "Listen to how wet you are and that’s all because of me."
You felt that coil within you about to snap with an orgasm. Your legs trembling and toes curling as you felt it approaching fast. Lucifer was not holding back tonight and the overstimulation you felt had your mind going into a haze, "please, please, please!"
"c'mon gorgeous," Lucifer let out a low groan, tossing his head back, "fuckkk, cum for me again."
At his words you came, a small scream leaving your throat as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Still coming down from your high, Lucifer gives you a couple of seconds to recover before moving his hips again. He materializes a vibrator in his hand before placing it directly onto your clit.
You shuddered, hand moving down to grip his wrist as tears escaped your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, "Lulu, p-please—!"
"I know your limits," Lucifer says with that prideful smile, his voice dominating, "Move your hand."
Your move your hands to grip your thighs, the built trust between you was enough for you to see this mind blowing pleasure through, "W-Wait, I'm going to— ah~!"
Lucifer lets a glob of spit leave his mouth, you felt it hit directly onto your naked cunt, watching as his saliva coats your already soaked clit and slides down the sides of his length before pressing the vibrator into you harder, "You're going to cum for me again."
You shake your head, pathetic sobs escaping past your lips, "I don't think I c-can Lu—!"
"Yes you can sweetheart, and you will," His words cause a shiver to go down your spine. "Look at this sloppy pussy taking my cock so well."
You look up at Lucifer with pleading eyes, your hand resting on his chest as if to push him away, your nails pressing tiny crescents into his skin, "I'm g-going to c-cum—! Don't stop, r-right there—! Fuck!"
The sight of you crying and succumbing to the pleasure was exhilarating in Lucifer’s eyes. His beautiful wife was a sobbing, drooling, trembling mess before him. You were dick drunk and high off pleasure, your words coming out in broken fragments.
Just as he was getting flustered at the way you were presented before him, he couldn't help but think about Alastor in so close proximity to you. Had he thought about you in this way before? That question alone made Lucifer’s mind come up with endless possibilities, making the jealousy rise within him as his blood boiled.
He thrusted into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room as he made sure to angle his thrust, repeatedly hitting you in all the right places. He pressed the vibrator impossibly deeper into you, making you arch your back with a sudden scream,
"L-Lucifer!"
With one final thrust, Lucifer had sent you spiraling over the edge as you squirted around his length, making his thighs and the counter wet with your essence.
Lucifer pulled out of you quickly to slap his cock against your clit, rubbing it against your folds harshly to relish in the lewd sound before thrusting back into you slowly to cockwarm you, "There you go love, good girl.”
You trembled, a string of hiccups leaving your mouth as Lucifer laced his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as if he didn't just fuck you dumb,
"You did so well for me, darling."
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Meanwhile on the other side of the wall sat the bar Husk was currently stationed at with Angel, who’s jaw was nearly on the floor at the sounds that just came from the kitchen, “Did we just hear the big boss man and his lady gettin’ it on in there?”
“Nope,” Husk denied it. After all, ignorance was bliss, “I didn’t hear a thing.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.
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emmafrostyyy · 6 months
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y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...
sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me
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It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.
She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.
Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".
They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.
In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.
Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.
She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.
Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.
I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo
Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.
I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.
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They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.
They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.
Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.
Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.
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lovelybrooke · 7 months
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Yandere Gojo and Getou x reader headcanons
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I haven't completely finished the manga, very far behind in fact (Chapter 93), so please no spoilers. But I wanted to write something about these two because they are so yandere coded its insane (also because I wanted to see something involving them that wasn't smut). I'm letting you guys decide if this is platonic/romantic.
Masterlist
Gojo and Getou believe they are better than everyone else, they're stronger than everyone, smarter than everyone. It was a well-known fact that both of them thought this way. So, it's why so many of their peers thought it was weird their best friend wasn't a sorcerer.
You were a pretty normal person. You went to a normal school, had a normal part time job, even had a pretty normal family. In truth, neither of the two could remember how they met you. It's almost like they blocked out their life before all of you were together. Maybe it was when you were their server at a cafe they loved to frequent after missions. Or when you bumped into them while trying to get to school on time. Or when they were hanging around your neighborhood for what they said was "work." Either way, what's obvious is the two can't get enough of you.
When you officially become their friends, they both make the decision not to tell you about their lives as sorcerers. They know you'll probably resent them for it in the future, but it's the best way to ensure your safety. They couldn't risk you getting mingled in with any potential curses that would want to get at them. Even if anything tried to kill you, they'd obliterate them without a second though.
You sometimes question how they both know so much about you, and they honestly think it's the cutest thing ever. Neither of them tries to hide their less savory tendencies, why would they? You're their best friend, of course they'd want to share clothes with you, and go to school events that they weren't invited to with you, and bad talk your other friends right in front of your face. It's what comes with being friends with them, you should expect it by now.
While both of them are similar in many ways, there are aspects that each of them has that are purely their own. Gojo is mysterious in a lot of ways, acting dumb about a lot of things only for his demeanor to instantly change if you or Geto are threatened. You don't know if you should be afraid of him or not, but something about Gojo says it doesn't really matter.
Getou, on the other hand, is sometimes less scary than Gojo. He teases you less, doesn't agree with Gojo's ridiculous ideas as often, and, at least for a while, is more emotionally available than Gojo. It's not that Gojo doesn't care about you, but he isn't as good at dealing with emotions when compared to Geto. However, it sometimes feels as though Geto sees right though you, right into your soul. Even when you try your best to hide something from him, he knows what you are really feeling, sometimes a little too well.
Gojo and Getou don't always see eye to eye about you. Sometimes, especially after though missions, arguments spark up about you. The more obsessed he grows, the more Gojo wants to tell you about curses and Jujutsu sorcerers as a whole. Getou doesn't think this is safe however, believing that it instantly put you at risk. Gojo says they can protect you, while Getou reminds him you're weak, and they you'll always be at risk if you know the truth. Their arguments never lead everywhere, it only leads them back to you.
After the situation with Riko, you notice a large shift in your relationship with the two. You no longer see them as much, but when you do, they're rarely together. In a way, it's like their personalities swapped. Gojo became more reserved as Getou became more hateful. He suddenly started talking about people like they were a disease, not even trying to hide it from you. It put a huge strain on your relationship, even when he'd hug to tight and swear to you that you were different from them, you were better.
Getou disappears soon after that. Gojo becomes closer with you, often to the point of feeling suffocating. You've always had a feeling that Gojo knew what happened to his dear friend, and chose to keep it from you, for whatever reason. But regardless, you both feel the strain caused by Getou's absence, and it damages the last bit of a friendship you had with Gojo. After graduating, you left, needing to leave, needing a break. Gojo tried to convince you to stay, but you had your mind set.
Today, you were much older, both of you were much older. You don't remember much from your time with Gojo, but oh boy, did he remember you. He often when though his favorite moments with you in his head, whenever he needed a moment of peace. He regrets letting you leave. So, when he hears you're moving back home, he couldn't be happier. He won't let you leave him this time, he stronger now, he can protect you better.
When you do move back home years later, you meet up with Gojo. It's fun, he's happy and boisterous, and you don't think you've laughed as much as you did when you first back up with him. Though, you couldn't help but feel like someone, or something, was watching you. It was familiar, but terrifying at the same time.
---
A/n: Sorry that the ending sucked I didn't know how to end this. I would love asks for jjk but just keep in mind that I'm not that far in (chapter 93)
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bitchlessdino · 6 months
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hello! 🤍 can i request a bad boy type wonwoo having a soft spot for also a cold type reader?
like they always acting so cold towards other people and even both of them acting like they hate each other.
and people are like "oh there is no way they can date", but wonwoo is only kind to reader and viceversa even without them noticing
Oh, and they dont even realized their feelings until reader feels jealous when they saw wonwoo with someone else and thats when they realized about it, but are afraid to said something since reader doesnt know how wonwoo will react
Kinda angst maybe, but fluff at the end
take your time btw! 🤍 it is also totally okay if is not possible, hope you are having an excellent day 🌸
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Pairing: wonwoox gn!reader Genre: slight angst, fluff, slice of life Word count: 6.3k tags: mentions alcohol, childhood au, biker!wonu, frienemy!wonwoo, possible love triangle, reader called a bitch, presence of violence and imminent danger, analogy using car wrecks, mc and wonwoo stilling living with their parents as adults because that's normal ok, kinda messy, intimates kisses Summary: Hard to maintain a good acquaintanceship if it started off on the wrong foot, but Wonwoo tries to do just that, no matter how much you resent him from childhood. Now reunited as adults, you're questioning whether your negative impression of him has stuck since being away or have you grown up just enough to realize how much between the two you have changed? author note: this was collecting dust but finally she is here. just in time for wonwoo to be in my bias list 🙂
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
You will never willingly be associated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
His mom had just happened to be someone your mom knew. Someone that she hadn’t talked to or seen in a long time. Long enough to have built their own families and have their kids without realizing it. It was as if they fell back into place. A long-time childhood friendship that quickly rekindled in a grocery store one day. From that day on, your families were inseparable. As long as they were still friends, you’d see each other every day.
“Why would I babysit some weirdo kid? I have better things to do.”
The problem was he wanted nothing to do with you.
When you met him the first time, you were a child barely getting around to a bike without training wheels, and Wonwoo was meeting the first stages of fungal acne. He was a bit older than you were then and his mom had given him the duty to look after you, the neighbor’s kid. The neighbor’s weirdo kid.
His mom bragged to yours about how good of an older brother he was to his younger brother, Seonwoo, but that seemed that seems to be his limit. Having freshly turned a teen, it all made sense. Wonwoo didn’t know you, and all of a sudden in his growing years he’s stuck taking care of a kid he knows by association. Understandably, he’d have that teen angst.
You didn't mean to overhear. You just happened to eavesdrop behind a pillar that day in their obnoxiously nice house when you came across him and his mother talking privately. Admittedly, you hadn’t made the best impression, but you were any kid in their single digits: annoying, talkative, maybe skeptical. But you were a kid. A kid that got their feelings easily hurt.
Despite saying such hurtful words, Wonwoo listened. He treated you with care–consideration almost–following his mother's orders, but you didn't make it easy for him. Every group breakfast, every dinner, every ride to school. You became relentless. You knew how he really felt about your situation after all. Your mind was made up at that point.
If he wanted nothing to do with you, you wanted nothing to do with him. 
“Keep walking.”
Your eyes barely glaze over at the unfamiliar figure before waving off your hand as if dismissing a nuisance, which in this case was accurate. The unsolicited stranger scoffs, getting up from his unwelcome seat, hacking and spitting on the spot on the floor next to your chair. “I don’t fuck with bitches anyway.”
You roll your eyes as you shoo him away with the flick of your wrist again, then feel another unwanted presence join you in your once peaceful solitude. You tightly shut your eyes in frustration before taking a deep exhale, finding silence impossible under your circumstances. “I don’t want to hear it, Jeon.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you hear Wonwoo arrogantly chuckle, shrugging off the thick leather off his shoulders and setting them on his lap as he takes a seat.
With your back turned to him, you imagine the pristinely lit smile on his face he gives when he’s amused, a rarity in these parts with the exception of you, someone he’s known long enough to recount every blemish that once appeared on your face. He watches you finish the rest of your drink, the bob of your throat shifting before you pull the glass away from your lips. Your resting bitch face is still intact after all these years.
“Good, keep it that way.” 
Wonwoo could have chosen to keep the peace as he said he would, but it was just too easy with you. Even after you’ve left for college and come back, he acts as if nothing has changed. In his eyes, you were still that same angsty kid who always has something snarky to say when he’s around. And man, did he always have just as smart a rebuttal. “It’s just, that was the fifth guy you’ve scared off—course, the guy was a moron—but you like dying alone, Frosty?”
Frosty. The Snowman. Much unlike the jolly creature, however, you were given that name being somewhat of a cold character, particularly to Wonwoo and anything he witnesses face the wrath of your harsh but honest judgment. 
You begin getting up from your seat, scowling at the abhorred nickname, the prediction of this dinner a mistake an accurate calculation. “Should’ve known you’d run your mouth. Tell mom I’m heading to the store across the street.”
Your mother was so proud to have you back home for a period before you’d find a new place again, and she insisted on holding a small intimate gathering at bar type restaurant. That meant sharing the space with other patrons, the Jeons, and unfortunately Wonwoo, who only grew more irritating than you last remember. 
“I’ll tell her, but I’m coming with.”
The caretaker role he was bestowed upon so long ago seems to resonate with him still, insisting on trailing behind you with nonchalance. To which you answer with a brash:
“Fuck off.”
Your eyes go to the back of your skull the nth time tonight before you’re off on your stroll, noticing the annoying scrap of Wonwoo’s heel following behind you after he waves your mom and the rest of the party farewell. You ignore him, darting towards the antique shop that warms your stomach with nostalgia, hearing the wind chimes clang when you enter with a cool musk breeze to follow.
“That all you have to say to me? Even if you hate me, there has to be some…sentiment.” 
You finger through the old hardcovers, eyes scanning over the aged wood of the shelves until they move on to the glossy wood of the cuckoo clocks on the walls. “Not even a little bit, Jeon.”
There’s the breathiness of his scoff that lingers in the musk air. He crosses your arms, the leather rubs loudly against itself. “Well, that’s sad to hear,” he responds, not sounding sad at all.
“Don’t you have an actual sibling to bother? Why are you being a nuisance to me?”
He simply shrugs. “Seonwoo isn’t back from his work-study just yet. Plus he’d be happy to know I kept you company.”
Unlike Wonwoo, Seonwoo was actually tolerable, pleasant even. If you were envious of Wonwoo for anything, it was having a nice little brother like Seonwoo. You weren’t exactly close but he was a nice kid, a lot nicer than Wonwoo anyway, and not at all that annoying kind of nice that chirps every two seconds.
You sigh. “Now that’s actually sad to hear.”
“I knew you’d say that. You always liked him better than me.”
Only because you never liked me in the first place.
“Mmhmm.”
“Oh my god, Wonwoo?”
A shrill voice beckons from the store entrance, an older version of a girl from your adolescence runs towards you both. “I thought I heard your gorgeous voice. Gorgeous face as well as always, how are you?”
Gina also grew up in the same neighborhood you both did and was typically nice, but around Wonwoo, she seemed to lose all train of thought since all her eyes could train on was him. She bats her eyelashes the same flirtatious way several years ago, and instinctively her body is drawn to him like mosquitos to blood, drinking in masculine appearance for all its worth.
If you were anything like her, you’d get it. Wonwoo is an attractive man by society's standards, but the truth of the matter is you can’t stand him. And you know deep down he can’t stand you. His fake politeness isn’t fooling anybody. Okay, that is a lie. His fake politeness doesn’t fool you, but his limitless charm made everyone else weak in the knees.
“Good, good.” He nods cordially, a smile drained from his face only leaving a straight stare, eyes only landing on Gina momentarily before they return to you.
Gina finds his gaze’s target before the light is slightly dimmed from her initially bright eyes. “And you too. Oh gosh, you must’ve got back too. Can you believe we’ve both graduated from college?”
You wonder if she does, considering you did graduate from the same university.
“Yeah, it’s…crazy.” You answer, sounding unintentionally sarcastic.
Gina awkwardly chuckles, eyes back on Wonwoo as if they never left. “All we need is Seonwoo and it’s like the musketeers again, huh?”
Hardly the musketeers when she only ever stalked Wonwoo the entire time. You’re surprised you didn’t find she didn’t follow him all the way to the bathroom too.
Wonwoo’s cold expression is a steel cage that lacks interest. He blindly nods, mumbling “sure,” and not giving any other sign of continuing the conversation.
“Well, you guys should totally make it to my housewarming party. I’m inviting all the other guys from the neighborhood. Invite Seonwoo too! It’ll be a nice way to catch up.”
“We’ll think about it,” Wonwoo answers, giving her another curt nod.
“I’ll be really, really grateful if you did.”
There are stars in her eyes, like a treat is dangling in front of it, that treat being a six-foot body of steel and perfect Wonwoo.
 “Right,” he grunts.
She finally waves you both goodbye before making it past the glass doors with a quirk in her step.
You continue to peruse the rest of the store, picking up that one wooden statue that’s never been sold, or if it has, it keeps getting returned. It makes you wonder if it’s cursed. “Just reject her already and let her move on. Even I feel sorry for her.”
“I’m not ready for the aftermath of all that.”
You really have to unlearn that eye roll of yours. You could tell it’s giving you a headache. “Of course you aren’t.”
“You’re not going, are you? The thing she mentioned?”
“This the first time you met me? Of course, I’m not going. You are?”
He shrugs. “A party never hurt anybody.” 
“Without an address?”
He pulls out his phone with a notification as clear as day, Gina’s Instagram handle ushering him with details of where the party whereabouts. “Who said I didn’t have an address?”
“She really needs to find a hobby.”
Wonwoo chuckles, tucking the phone back in his front pocket. “Ready to head back now? Unless you want to look through the store a second time.”
You groan. “Stop policing me. I’m going home.”
“I’ll take you.” 
You raise your brow. “On your fucking death trap? No thanks.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms, the leather of his jacket speaking out of turn again. “You say that as if people aren’t begging to the back of my Harley.”
“Only people with a death wish.”
That goes on for some time until you make yourself walk the mile before your feet give out. Wonwoo obviously is the first with a smile on his face before he forces you to get the rest of the couple miles on the back of his bike, which was admittedly prettier in person than the photos your mom showed you. 
There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you get on—no doubt regret—questioning the proximity. “Hold on,” he says, to which you answer, “fat fucking chance.”
Your spiteful words are wasted as you find yourself tugging on him as you speed off on the vehicle from hell on the freeway.
“You’re an asshole!” You scream from your lungs.
“And I told you to hold on!” He screams back, a wide smile on his face you have no way of seeing.
You desperately wrap your arms around his torso, your life flashing before your eyes like a movie. All you hear is the wind in your ears while the traffic lights are hardly visible through your tightly shut eyes. You feel your soul leave your body, thinking nothing but the idea of an afterlife. If there was one good thing about the predicament you’re in, it’d be that he can’t see the terror in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much you want to scream bloody murder.
Before you know it, you arrive home safe and sound, the gas stopping at the curb of your house. He abruptly uses the bike break and you crash against broad shoulders, and you exude bumbling idiocy as you cling to him like a baby with separation anxiety. Oxygen finally enters your brain and you recognize your compromised position, forcing your grip off of him. You unbuckle and shove his helmet into his lap as you get off, a permanent scowl on your face. 
“Fuck you.”
“Glad to see you haven’t changed, Frosty.”
You don’t forget that encounter back then and you never get a chance to with your mom finding any excuse to see the Jeons day after day since your arrival. If that perfect apartment with affordable rent were to drop at your feet at a perfect time just when you so desperately needed it, it’d be now.
“Bring that in over next door. The Jeons will be thrilled to see their fridge stocked. And remember I’ll be gone until the morning.”
“We just gave them homemade wine yesterday. Mom, just because they live next door doesn’t mean we always have to plan to meet. We see them anyway.” You grab the cumbersome container of whatever it was anyway and hold it to your side like like a football, a strained expression on your face.
“You need to understand the value of lasting relationships. That’s why you’re still single, honey.”
You roll your eyes, groaning as you trod off, not wanting to start up another one of lectures why you're in your mid-twenties room with hardly any men in your books let alone in your court. Better off facing Jeon Wonwoo again than that, you guess.
You knock on their familiar white door, awaiting an answer from the other side. Soon enough you hear a masculine voice, but a voice that isn’t quite Wonwoo’s. The boy's fresh face on the receiving end piques your interest, an expression telling of a life of light and ease. Seonwoo stares back at you with a smile before politely waving. “It’s good seeing you! Been a minute.”
You find yourself returning a gesture, relaxing your arms. “It has. Mom wanted to send things over. Again.”
“Of course. Come in.”
You leave the box of goods in their fridge, feeling the presence of the younger Jeon follow behind you like a benevolent puppy. “Did you get in yesterday?”
“This morning. Early flight.”
You grin. “Singapore doing you good, I see.”
“Nothing like home though.”
You softly chuckle, “Yeah, there isn’t.”
Your conversation is cut short with another family coming down the stairs, one that looks ready to leave. They meet your eyes in amusement and his steps begin to falter in turn. “I saw you yesterday.”
“Don’t you dare make a joke about me missing you. It wasn’t funny any of the first five times.”
He’s smug as expected, entertained by the fact you’ve kept count. “I won’t, but it won’t make it any less true.”
You scoff. “Live in reality for once in your life, Wonwoo.”
“I will when you do.” He comes to the kitchen—briefly passing by you to do so and grazing your forearm—to fill a glass of water and downs it, his signature jacket thrown over his shoulders. He let out a refreshed sigh in your direction and put it away as soon as he finished. “I’m leaving now. When you change your mind about missing me, I’ll be at Gina’s party. Might actually find some fun there while you’re at it.”
The door closes behind him dramatically and your attention is right back on Seonwoo, the successful bystander. “Your brother is annoying.”
The young man smiles, finding the nostalgia in that small event. “Reminds me of the good old times.”
“Well, I should get going.”
“You’re going to the party too?”
You shake your head. “Not the slightest bit interested. Just trying to keep myself busy while I’m still in town.”
“Plan on leaving already? You just got here.”
“I can’t live on my parents forever. Need to make a living of my own you know.”
He softly laughs, a warm light enveloping his presence. He always seems to emit pure joy. Like there was nothing that could ruin this kid's day. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still self-reliant.”
You can’t help but smile back, “… Wouldn't be me if I wasn’t. I'll see you later, kid.”
You walk back home and go on with the rest of your afternoon by carrying on the duties of a college graduate with no job: endless job hunting. You let yourself go on that way for an hour, already bored by rereading your applicant details and sending in copies and copies of cover letters and documents. Your eyes have started to see stars shooting from either corner, warning signs of mental fatigue.
Shaking the numbing feeling, you shut off your laptop and notice the time on the clock. In the back of your mind, you’re remembering that party Wonwoo ended up going to. These parties weren’t by any means rare, but it had been some time since you let yourself give into environments as such. You said you wouldn't go but in dire situations of weary silences, perhaps it would hurt to take a second in a new subsubspace. Something to take off the edge of the weight of your undetermined future.
Against your initial better judgment, you force yourself out of that house to enter that very party you said you wouldn't go to. So like Gina to make an event over a normal thing like this. You don’t put much thought into what you wear and leave the house and when you arrive late as you were, you are unsurprised by the huge turnout. Five seconds in, you’re already regretting the 10 bucks you paid via UBER to get there.
The house was so Gina. As expected of one of the daughters of the wealthiest families in town. As you enter, all you hear is music, loud and rambunctious voices and laughter, and shouts of barely adults chugging whatever concoction in those house party solo cups. It all quickly reminds you of college and high school, times in your life you were relieved to know were over.
Why did you decide to come again if you knew this was going to happen?
You try ignoring the voices that seem to recognize you, evading and walking through the place for a potential drink to buzz you out of self-consciousness. If you were going to be in a place like this, a drink was warranted by all means.
“Wonwoo, come on!”
Gina’s voice, easily distinguishable, resonates from the other end of the room and sees how her presence bounces like a kite in the wind. You look in the direction of her gaze to find the person she seeks, ultimately having Wonwoo being dragged by the wrist, his hair sweeping the swift breeze of her force.  You were a bit relieved to see him, someone who is more similar to you in ways you’d never willingly admit.
You feel the urge to approach, curious how he’ll handle this one, but intentions all change of a brisk move, changing setting immediately. One second Gina looks up at him with doe eyes that speak longing and ache, another second her arms are looped around his neck and she pulls his lips against hers, massaging against them naturally as if rehearsed. Your feet stop, watching the unsightly scene like it’s a car crash as if in slow motion, taking you only a second to realize he hasn't yet let go.
Slowly then quickly, your chest pulls up like a marionette doll before it drops in a lump, repeating until the sound of your heart is rapidly pounding into your skull. You don’t understand it, but you don’t want to either. Swiftly, you duck back and turn your head in the other direction, having seen enough.
Then panic ensues.
People are harder to brush through than you realize. Colliding each one was like speed bumps in your way of a smooth departure. You were bound to have one person take a drunken offense to your rash movement and there it was: a subtle push that led to a spilled drink that stains the shirt of a man big enough to frighten children if he approached.
“Watch the fuckkk ya goin’!”
You don’t bother with the importance of apologizing or even acknowledging him. You realize it too late when he pulls at your collar back towards him, strangling you at the throat.
“S…stupid bitch can’t even see…fucking ruin my—hic—deink”
Your hands come around his grip, attempting to pry him off. “L-let me go. The fuck?”
“The fuck you say to me piece of shi—ah!”
He finally releases you when Wonwoo appears from behind him, tossing him out like an old ragdoll with no weight. The drunkard comes crashing down to the hardwood floor and before he realizes the cause of it, said cause whisks you away with his gril looping around your wrist.
“You’re going home right the fuck now,” Wonwoo grumbles, dragging you out of other guests' way and right out of the door, once again leading you to his motorcycle. “Bike now.”
“Wonwoo, what the fuck—“
“You aren’t an idiot. You knew what was gonna happen if I hadn’t stepped in. Now get on before fee fi fo fum finds out we left.”
“I’m not getting on that death trap again!”
His glare pierces right through you. “I know you'd rather be at home than here. Especially with the probability of becoming a statistic. Get on.”
He is right for the most part and even you’re seeing through your nonsensical defiance. Reluctantly, you follow his lead, knowing he’s left you with no other choice. You endure another near death experience, this time clutching on to him less resistantly unlike last time all the way back home. It is when you’re at the foot of your door you only realize the keys that were supposed to be in your pocket but left on the kitchen counter instead.
“Shit.”
Wonwoo quickly puts the pieces together. “No key?”
You shake your head, embarrassed slightly over your feeble appearance. “No, and mom won’t be back until the morning so I’m screwed.”
“Alright. You’re sleeping over.”
You scoff looking back at him, wondering whether he’s in the right state of mind to make that call. “You’re kidding.”
“Not unless you’re okay slumbering at the footstep of your door.”
Another choice made of your hands. You discouragingly follow after him as he unlocks the door across the street. Seonwoo was evidently still home with his loafers by the foot of the door but dead asleep upstairs in bed. 
“You take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he offers nodding in the direction of the living room.
“No thanks, I’ll take the couch.”
He groans, giving that irritated look. “Don’t be difficult and just sleep in the damn bed.”
You huff, strutting over towards the couch. “Sleep in your own damn bed, Jeon. Stop treating me like you’re my babysitter.”
He follows after you, crossing his arms like an annoyed mother, “You’re really gonna be like this?”
“I’m not being like anything.”
“You know what?” He grabs the throw pillow off the couch, “Fine. We’ll share the couch.”
“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrow back at him.
The smug smile on his face says it all, knowing there was no rebuttal to follow. “Neither of us will take the bed, we’ll both will take the couch.”
Before you can argue, he ascends the stairs for more bedding and comes back to toss you a blanket and pillow. He keeps one of each for himself, sprawling on the other end of the massive couch, gesturing you to do the exact same. Cautiously, you mirrored his image, crawling under your borrowed blanket. Despite your feet not touching, you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the close proximity, forcing you to crunch up your legs and bring your knees close to your chest. 
Wonwoo’s eyes drop in place, nuzzling into his thick blanket. “Good night.”
“Whatever.”
He softly scoffs with a smile, basking in the silence. Meanwhile, there was you, wondering why you listened to his instructions so willingly. You sigh, your eyes glued to the ceiling counting every bump and curve of its textured surface. 
“This is stupid it’s literally 10 pm”
“Sounds like bedtime.”
You peek back at him, his eyes still closed. “You did not go to a party to plan on sleeping at 10 pm.”
“You don’t know what my plans are. Sleep now.”
“I could’ve handled it, you know,” you argue.
“I bet you could’ve,” he responds dryly. “Wasn’t gonna take that risk though.”
“I’m serious…you didn’t have to, especially since…”
“What?” 
“You know,” you take a moment to form the words, “whatever that was with Gina.”
You hear him scoff, shifting on his side of the couch. “Nothing was happening with Gina.”
You let out a parched laugh, in disbelief of the words leaving his lips. “Wow, that lie comes so easy, does it?”
“Believe what you want. It’s not what you think anyway.”
“You’re so…obnoxious,” you sputter.
“Thank you.”
“So when did that happen? You and Gina?”
He huffs hot air out of his nose.“There’s no me and Gina. I don’t know what you saw, but…it’s nothing.”
“You were kissing.”
“You could call it that.”
“For a while,” You add.
“Just enough for her to find closure.”
“And did she?”
“Saved your ass before I could find out.”
You have no response to that and you let the silence take over for a few minutes. After those few minutes, Wonwoo was the one to break the peace.
“You asleep yet.”
“No, it’s not even 11,” you answer exasperatedly. 
“Well, I'm tired.”
“Go to sleep then.”
“You should sleep before I do.”
“Why?”
He shrugs, “I'm supposed to take care of you. It’s what your mom would want.”
“Why? I'm a grown adult.”
“I don’t think an explanation is needed.”
“Ever heard of personal space?”
“Make some smart decisions and I’ll consider it.”
“You’re such a dick,” you grunt, turning away from view.
“I’m only trying to protect you.”
This shit again. You pushed yourself up from the couch to sit up, fuming in his direction. “Because your mom asked. Okay, I get it, but you’re not obligated to anymore because I’m your mom's friend’s kid. Just stop.”
“That’s not why–”
“Stop lying–”
“I’m not fucking lying,” he says matching your stance. His gaze meets yours in anguish, urging you to drop it. 
You scoff, lying back down in a sleeping position with your back turned towards him. “Whatever.”
“...Despite popular belief, I’m actually concerned about you sometimes.”
“I guess…I don't entirely find that hard to believe.”
“Thank you. It’s not like I hate you.”
“Sure,” you answer, voice basted in sarcasm.
“I don’t.” You hear his body shift back down on the couch, finding comfort between the leather cushions.
“Then why are you such a dick.”
He sighs. “Sorry.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“...Sorry.”
You ponder to yourself, wanting to turn back the clock to the earlier conversation for unknown reasons. You turn your body, seeing how his body mimics your body seconds ago, back turned, eyes closed, and facing the couch. “So if not Gina–”
“There’s no one,” he cuts off, “I mean, I'm not seeing anyone.”
It reassures you. Not that it should’ve. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Okay.”
You’re unsure when you drifted off, you only remember it being mid-conversation that your vision started to blur, followed by darkness and soon the light of the following morning. You wake up in Wonwoo’s house unexpectedly alone, quiet enough to hear the sound of a pin dropping. You enter the kitchen, parched, and you find a plate of food. You approach cautiously, catching a glimpse of the note, immediately catching on to why it was so damn empty. 
Went to get stuff done. Keep yourself entertained for a bit. - Wonwoo and Seonwoo
With an impish grin, you quickly run your fork over and over into the balanced meal and nourish your body, but slow down as your subconscious reminds you of last night's events. It wanders to your impulse to attend a party out of sheer boredom, stumbling upon an unexpected scene, before immediately trying to escape it before you are caught. The kiss becomes a scene stuck on replay, playing the image like a broken record. You did not black out, though you wish you had, considering your uncalled-for badgering of Wonwoo’s relationship status you shouldn’t have cared less about. Yet do.
You try bruising it off if you can help it, quick to leave, and relieved to find your mom home to let you in. Your day begins a new, and with a new day, she already has stuff for you to do. You’d be annoyed if you weren’t so grateful to be let back in home, remembering to grab your keys this time as you left the house again following her request for grocery shopping. 
You drink in the town for the first time since being back, questioning yourself why you hadn’t done it earlier. The block isn’t that different since you left, perhaps more greenery and flowers, but otherwise everything looked the same. Same old town, same old stores, the only thing difference was the people. Fine lines got deeper, toddlers now taller, and you now a stranger. Even the grocery store has changed managers, one adolescent bag boy at a time.
Even long finished with grocery shopping, you’re still wandering the center of town, circling in steps of the alternating tiles of the ground. For a moment, you free yourself from your thoughts, your worries, your ambitions, and live in the moment. It had been so long since you felt like this. You expected the feeling to emerge in college but that had been just another thing on your plate and suddenly you’re reminded of Wonwoo. Knowing him, he’d like this sight of you, proud to see you experience another emotion for a change.
Then your eyes flit back to the scene several meters from you. He reappears in your vision just as he has in your thoughts, only now Gina embracing him, squeezing the life out of him just as the life is squeezed out of your chest. He meets your eyes, his pupils expanding, before lightly pushing the poor girl off of him, but not in enough time to stop you from trying to escape again.
“Hey!”
You ignore him, letting your feet take you where it guides you. You’re blind to the incoming obstacles, brushing past pedestrians, shoulder everybody you meet, and you barely register the busy road before your feet make an unexpected halt. You hear the blaring honks until you’re pulled out, face crashing into their shoulder, arms coming around your in strong enclosure.
“Are you stupid? Why are you running into oncoming traffic?”
You shove him off, heart beating louder in your chest than any bike ride he’s taken you on has, and you’re seething in an emotion that you never expected to be in. Never in this lifetime at least. “Wonwoo just stop. Please.”
“I’m not doing anything. I don’t get why you’re trying to push me away.”
“I’m just sick of this. Of you. I can’t do this.”
“Why? Why? What do you think this is?”
“Just, leave me alone, Wonwoo.”
He sees you trying to walk out on him again and he doesn’t let you. Taking you by your arm, he pulls you towards him, leaving only the width of your forearm as his gaze pierces right through you, brimming with a mix of concern and utter anger. Frustration. Impatience.
If there was one thing about Wonwoo, he may have looked like he came from an anger management class, but he did manage it well. When he didn’t, your feet would feel glued to the concrete, frozen in the fire of his eyes, for once fearing what the man had to say.
“You know what? No. I’m not letting you do this? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you hate me so much–”
“God,” you groan, “it would be so easy if I just hated you.”
“Then what is it? You don’t hate me. You don’t like me. What? I’m wracking my brain trying to understand you–”
You don’t let him finish. You aren't sure what was in the breakfast you had today but you find yourself pulling him by the collar to meet his lips only to push him away in that instant, barely a whisper of his presence in your mouth. You clamp your hand over your mouth before finally treading away shocked by your actions, scurrying away.
He doesn’t follow you and you don’t blame him. You retrieve your once-abandoned groceries from the intersection to then find your way home. Rain is close to follow, drenching from head to toe. As if things couldn’t get any worse.
When you get home, you’re alone once again. The door shuts with a clang and you’re left in your self wallow, regret burning the back of your throat. Your back slid against the wood, a deep exhale expelling from your lungs. “So that’s what’s wrong with me.”
Like clockwork, you feel a knock erupt from the same door. Conceding to whatever was on the other side, you brush yourself up from the ground and turn the knob, only to be taken aback. Wonwoo, wet like made from glass with his locks swept over his head, stands before you panting. On either hand is a bundle of flowers barely protected in the cellophane it came with when he bought them and his cell phone he’s death gripping in his hand, no doubt damaged by the rain.
You blink back at him, lips parting in confusion. “Wonwoo…You’re wet.”
“Likewise.” He invites himself in and sets the flowers on a table nearby, not even for a second letting his gaze stray from yours. “You left me hanging there. Kiss a guy and walk away like he means nothing?”
You shake your head in disbelief, processing this, him. “Why are you here…with flowers?”
“I really do have to spell out everything for you, don’t I?” he responds smiling.
The squelch of his shoes trod in your direction, the invisible string connecting you two shortening. Preventing your evasion, you feel the palm of his hand against your back and your lips crash in a lingering reunion. The squeak of his slippery leather doesn't make it past your ears, distracted by the heat of his lips in the clash of the coolness of his rain-stained skin. 
Your hand crawls up his neck to press him closer, feeling the strength of his arms wrap around you tighter before shutting the front door effortlessly with his foot. He lets you pin him against the door, lips tight bound to yours, and relief settles in his stomach as you show no sign of pulling away. He finds himself whispering a word of gratitude in every language, smiling against your lips. “No more excuses…I’m not letting anyone get in the way. Not even you.”
You finally break out in a smile, brushing it against his lips before reclaiming them, not minding the wet leather.
You spend the rest of the day in each other’s company. You put away the groceries before the room temperature worked against their favor and got yourselves changed out of your rain-dampened clothes, throwing them in the dryer. Even if he lived right next door, you allow him to wear your most oversized shirt after he insisted he should, watching the cotton fabric cling to his broad shoulders with the hem just hitting him at his hip bone.
Man, he’s a large man.
“Kinda snug.”
You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to hold yourself back. “You can get clothes next door. You’re just a few steps away.”
He grins, approaching you. “It’s raining…I could get sick.” His long arms land on either of your shoulders, reminding you of that cat that knew too much in a childhood cartoon. “You don’t want me sick…”
“You wouldn’t get sick taking two long strides to your house, Jeon,” you respond, rolling your eyes, unable to meet his.
“But you’d take care of me if I was, right?” 
You roll your eyes, accepting his advances of a hug and feeling his chin fit in the crook of your neck. “Kiss a guy two times too many and he follows you around like a stray cat.”
He grins. “You like it. Don’t act like you don’t. You probably even like my bike and you’re not telling me.”
“Okay well, no. Those are two separate matters.”
His arms wrap around you tighter before reuniting your lips, such tenderness and sweetness in his gaze as he thumbs over the curve of your cheek. “You don’t deny that other thing.”
“I thought was already point blank. You know, when I didn’t push you away, kicking and screaming.”
“Yeah, but,” he shrugs, his cheekbones only getting higher. “Hard to come by something nice from you. I want to hear it.”
You sigh, giving in. “Fine.”
Your head fit between the divide of his chest, hearing a quickened pulse underneath it. You close your eyes as your hand strokes against his back. “I have… feelings for you. Maybe for once good feelings. Just don’t get cocky about it.”
Overwashed with calm joy, he takes you tighter, inhaling the soap in your hair. “Too late.”
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mothmansboyfriend · 2 years
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I miss being a young adult online no job no money laughing all day and only having a breakdown like every 2 months. Every day the sun rises is a tragedy now I just want to go back to giggling over the phrase “learning via osmosis” and drawing for 14 hrs a day just for fun and feeling kinda like a loser but not caring bc I could spend the day making myself happy. Nothing in my life is changing yet everything is getting worse at the same time and I’m so tired and I’m so scared ion wanna do this for 60 more years I just wanna grill for god’s sake
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