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oddinary4bts · 7 months

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When the End Comes | ch 2 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: moving, curses, alochol, explicit content: female and male masturbation, pain kink (Jungkook), mentions of blowjob and penetrative sex

☆word count: 8.7k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: I don't even know what to say about this chapter, just that I FEEL their pain so much :'( justice for my babies

☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

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But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

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Thursday, July 6th

Days and weeks have passed. Apparently, even months have. Jungkook hasn’t really noticed – he’s been stuck in a daze, stuck replaying your breakup over and over again. Wishing he’d begged you to stay, though he could tell that nothing would have been fruitful.

You had made your decision already.

He hasn’t done anything since you left. Hasn’t left your apartment except for looking for a new one, when Yoongi forced him to go. Because alone, he can’t afford the one you had together. And it’s too filled with memories anyway.

All the pictures on the shelves by the window, turned towards the wall the night you left. The echo of your laugh, in every room he steps in. The ghost of you, just a silhouette he can’t ever reach when it’s dark and his mind is playing tricks on him.

The night you left, he thought it was a joke. A sick, twisted prank, and he believed you’d come back. When hours passed and dawn approached, he got up from the spot where he was sitting in, near the door, and turned the pictures towards the wall before heading to bed.

He hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed, and he’d slept with Bam directly on the floor.

A few nights later he’d made an actual bed with blankets on the floor, and he’s been sleeping there since then. But not tonight – tonight he’ll try sleeping in bed, in his new apartment.

A space that shouldn’t remind him of you too much.

He’s packed almost everything before today. He had nothing else to do, and it served to keep his mind busy during the long hours of the day. At night he usually has nothing to keep his mind from going to you, and he thinks he’s stuck in the moment when you left.

It’s a looped film in his mind, a horror movie that will forever haunt him.

The boys are helping. They brought most of the boxes he’s packed to his new place already, a small studio in the same building as Yoongi and Kiko. It’s on the other side of town, far from where he built a life with you, and he really hopes your ghost won’t follow.

Though he doubts he’ll ever escape it.

Everyone is currently doing a trip to the other apartment, except Jungkook and Yoongi. Mostly because Jungkook has been standing in the empty living room, save for the pictures on the shelves.

You left with the couch and the dinner table, telling him to keep the TV even though you were the one to buy it years ago. And that day you came to pick up your stuff…

Another haunting moment to add to the long list that’s been tormenting him since you broke up.

He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw clenching as the familiar ache takes over his heart. He doesn’t want to cry today – at least not before he’s alone in his new place. Because he hates how his friends are concerned, hates that he can’t just stay home alone.

None of them understand the sorrow that’s been plaguing him – hell, all of them except Jimin are happily dating. A dirty, ugly part of him hates them for it, and he’s been trying to distance himself.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, startling him.

Jungkook’s hand falls to his side, and he forces his eyes open. Yoongi is next to him, an eyebrow cocked in question. “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to put these in a box?” Yoongi enquires, and Jungkook clenches his fist as Yoongi’s pointing to the pictures.

“I can take care of it.”

It takes him a few seconds before he does get in motion, and he heads to the shelves. There’s already a box waiting for the frames, one Taehyung put there earlier before Jungkook told him not to touch anything.

“Do you want help?” Yoongi asks carefully.

Jungkook steels himself as he grabs the first picture. He already knows which it is, from its placement on the shelf. It’s one of his exhibit’s pictures. The one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. It’s the sunset from the living room of the apartment he’d found for you.

Seeing it hurts, but he barely pays attention to it, carefully putting it in the box before grabbing the next one. There you are, cheeks red and smile bright in the snow of December, and he feels like dying as he remembers the name of that one.

‘Where I learned to love again’. It feels like it’s laughing at him right now, like life is having a good laugh at his expense. He wants to throw it away, to burn and watch your beautiful form crumbling into ashes.

Instead, he puts it away, before moving to the next one. He thinks he goes blind – he doesn’t see the next pictures. Doesn’t focus on any of them, and lets the ache take over his action, over his heart. When he’s done, he realizes that the apartment is once again filled with voices – none of them being the right one, and he wishes to be alone.

Wishes to be allowed to crumble, to let himself be carried by the wind.

The rest of the day is a blur. He barely remembers getting to his new place, riding shotgun next to Jimin while Taehyung and Namjoon talked about something on the backseat. Jimin was silent, respecting Jungkook’s need to not speak, and maybe it’s for that reason that Jungkook says yes when Jimin asks if he wants some company when the others finally start filing out at the end of the day.

They all hug him tight, tell him that they love him and hope he’ll like his new place. With everything placed, Jungkook knows that he’ll always hate it, because it lacks the only thing that he truly wants – you.

And he’ll never have that again.

“Want to order something?” Jimin asks.

Jungkook is sitting on a kitchen chair, watching the condensation on his glass of water when Jimin speaks. He raises his head – his friend is scrolling on his phone, and he shoots Jungkook a look as he remains silent.

“Sure,” Jungkook finally answers. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Jimin nods. “There’s this great dumpling place nearby, and they deliver.”

“Oh.”

If Jimin notices Jungkook’s lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t mention. Because Jimin is a good friend – he’s been one of Jungkook’s closest friends for years for a reason after all.

“Pork and green onion works for you?” Jimin asks.

“Sure.”

“I’ll get the marinated cucumbers too.” Jimin pouts at his phone as he focuses, and then his gaze darts once to Jungkook. “Anything else you want? They got bobas too.”

Just thinking about drinking boba makes Jungkook feel nauseated, so he shakes his head no. Jimin purses his lips, nods curtly and then says the food is on its way.

His statement is followed by silence, until the front door opens as Yoongi returns with Bam, as promised. Kiko was taking care of him all day, since she and Yoongi live in the same building. Yoongi promises that Bam was a good boy, and then he leaves again, nodding his head at Jimin.

As if to say ‘thank you for being here’. Jungkook hates the gesture, hates that he let Jimin stay, but he figures he can always just ask him to leave when they’re done with the food.

He had to eat anyway, right?

Needless to say, his appetite has been off, since the day you left. He’s been working out more though, something to keep his mind busy, but he’s been unable to eat like before. Jimin forces him to eat half the dumplings though, and Jungkook reckons that even after everything, dumplings still slap.

Not a lot of things in life still slap without you around.

One thing that does suck is, Jimin tries to make conversation through dinner. He asks Jungkook if he has any project coming up, if he ever plans on returning to Europe. The answer is easy, and Jungkook gives it without an ounce of hesitation.

“No.”

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, as if surprised by his answer. “Why?”

Jungkook grits his teeth, but offers no answers. He thinks it’s obvious – he’s been hating the European continent ever since the night you left because he can’t bring himself to hate you instead. So he directed it to the place that took you from him, and so far it’s been keeping him going.

“You know…” Jimin carefully says. “We’ve all been avoiding talking about it. But how are you even doing, bro? Every time I see you it’s just…”

Worse. He’s convinced that’s what Jimin was going to say, and he doesn’t blame him. It’s worse every time because he has been getting worse. As if adding another mark on the calendar equals to adding another on his heart, and the wounds haven’t had time to heal.

He doesn’t think there’s enough time in a lifetime to heal from losing you.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook lies easily.

Bam offers him salvation, barking by the door. As he rarely does, Jungkook gets up, a frown moving on his features. Jimin lets him go, even as Jungkook mumbles he’ll take the dog outside. His friend remains silent, and Jungkook is able to slip into the evening without Jimin pressing him about the lie.

As Jungkook had assumed, Bam just needed to pee, and probably barked because of the unfamiliar environment. Jungkook debates taking him on a walk, hoping Jimin would be gone by the time he comes back, but it feels too cowardly, even for him.

So he takes Bam in right away – the walk would have been hell anyway.

Jimin hasn’t moved while he was gone, and Jungkook tries to avoid the conversation by cleaning the table, putting away the empty dumpling container in the recycling bin after he’s rinsed it thoroughly. He feels Jimin’s gaze boring into the back of his head, but he does his best to ignore it.

“You shouldn’t drop your job in Europe,” Jimin suddenly says.

Jungkook whips around from his spot by the counter under which the recycling bin is. “What?”

“Isn’t it…” Jimin winces, shaking his head slightly. “Listen, this will be tough love, but isn’t it losing everything if you just… drop it too?”

Jungkook sees red. “Get the fuck out.”

“Bro.”

“Get the fuck out,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each word.

“We’re just worried about you,” Jimin says carefully, still not moving from where he’s sitting.

Jungkook has half a thought that he could carry his friend out if he wanted to, but surprisingly enough his heart breaks in his chest, tears blinding his vision.

“I just can’t go, okay?” he chokes out, and his nails dig in the palm of his hands as he clenches his fists hard. “I just can’t.”

Jimin watches him carefully, before sighing deeply. “Okay. It’s okay. There’s plenty of stuff you can do here too.”

Jungkook gulps, blinking the tears away until Jimin is clear in front of him again. “Can I…”

He stops, because he knows he shouldn’t ask. Knows he shouldn’t care, yet he can’t help himself. Jimin doesn’t press, waits for him to be able to speak. It takes longer than Jungkook thought possible, and he has to shut his eyes and lean against the counter before he finds words again.

“Can I ask how she has been doing?” he voices, words falling softly, almost soundlessly, in the space between them.

“Jungkook…”

“Just,” Jungkook lets out, eyes shooting open. “Please tell me she’s okay.”

Jimin’s silence is telling enough – you must be going through it too. It fills Jungkook with bitterness, with something vile and disgusting that tastes like bile on his tongue. Because you don’t get to be suffering, you don’t get to have made this decision and suffer from it.

Why the fuck did you make that decision then?

“You know,” Jimin starts carefully. “You guys were together for a long time.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks. “Why did she do this?”

And then the tears are moving freely, and Jimin quickly gets up to hug him. Jungkook rests his forehead against his friend’s shoulder as he breaks in the embrace, like he’s been doing for weeks now.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jimin promises when the tears recede and Jungkook stops trembling, as if his body, too, is too tired to keep on breaking.

Strangely, he gets the feeling there’s nothing left to break anyway.

“How?”

Jimin remains silent for a while, as if searching for the exact right words to say. Jungkook doubts they exist – how can someone repair a broken heart such as his?

“Life finds a way,” Jimin eventually chooses to say. He pulls away from the hug, though he still holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders. “Life always finds a way.”

Saturday, July 15th

You’re tired. Have been tired. Think you’ll forever be tired. A relentless exhaustion has settled over you like a mantle of snow settles on the land during the months of winter. With it comes an unshakable cold, and even though it’s summer you’ve been cradling your hoodie to your frame, draping yourself with it as if it’ll chase the cold away.

The cold is never going to leave. You think your heart turned to ice in your chest, and it pumps freezing blood into your veins. You’ve been trying to warm up, but heat is a mirage to you, an illusion you can’t reach.

Heather and Bridget are hosting a dinner at their apartment today. You’d wanted to avoid it, but considering they offered you a room for a few weeks before you found a new apartment, you couldn’t say no. Yet you dread the moment you’ll be faced with the other girls, some of them your friends because they are dating… his friends.

You’ve been trying not to think about him too much. It’s hard – he’s lurking at the back of your mind, a reminder of your failures. Of the places where you went wrong, the mistakes you committed. Not that the breakup was a mistake – you think you made the right decision, or at least you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you have.

But you didn’t lie to him – you love him. Still do, though now it’s more like grief. Though, what is grief if not the next step in the eternal timeline of love?

You worry at your lips, bury your hands in the pocket of the hoodie. You fumble with your keys as you wait in front of the door, as you try to knock but find you’re unable to. Because it means talking to them, it means pretending that you have been able to eat or sleep for weeks.

You reckon Heather and Bridget know, to a certain extent. Saw you wither like a flower when autumn comes, though you think now you’re settled in deep winter.

You think it’ll pass. You doubt a pain like this can last – no soul can withstand it forever. But that would be admitting that he was your soulmate, and you aren’t stupid.

Soulmates don’t exist. Because if he was, why then was the distance enough to break you up?

You sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of your feet. You take a steadying breath – it does nothing to help.

You’re a coward. You’ve become a coward, and you think it might be because you put all of your courage in that night weeks ago. It broke you, broke the steel you used to be able to drape yourself with.

Now you’re stuck in the never-ending winter, withered and lifeless.

“Y/n!” Jo says, and you startle.

You turn your head to the side to see Jo as she’s walking around the corner, and she smiles at you as she makes her way towards you.

“Hey,” you reply as your throat goes dry.

If he has a best friend, or at least a female one, you think it’d be her. They’ve been friends since before you reconnected with him, since before you even knew her. Seeing her feels like it’s wrong, but then again everything has been feeling wrong lately.

“Did you already ring?” Jo asks as she stops next to you.

You purse your lips, shaking your head no. “Huh,” you let out. “I was about to.”

Jo nods, and you think she immediately senses your unease. She’s a good person though, and an even better friend. She doesn’t say anything, and she rings the door for you.

You don’t know what to tell her. All that you can think of is, if someone has news about him, it would be her. She’s the only one you believe there’s a chance he’s been honest to.

Before you can say anything, the door opens and Bridget ushers you inside. You realize that you’re the last ones to get there – you usually never are. Usually always make sure to be the first, only so that you can help the hosts.

It seems losing him changed that.

You greet everyone half-heartedly, quickly moving towards Jiho. Jiho hugs you, tells you she’s happy you came. You can’t return the sentiment, so you offer her a tight-lipped smile as Heather announces that dinner is ready.

Their chatter is lively. You feel like you’re watching the scene through a frosted window. Like you’re stuck in a blizzard, watching people reveling in the warmth of the other side, wishing somehow that they’d share it with you. And it’s not that they don’t try; multiple times throughout dinner the other girls try to talk to you.

You reply, you always do, but there is just so little to say, so little words your brain can conjure up. It’s like your thoughts are slower – you’ve been that way at work too. You’re lucky, you haven’t been working on anything big in the last few weeks. But next week you will be, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to do it.

At least Harrison is on the case with you. As one of the most talented junior partners of the firm, you think he’ll be able to manage the case even with you at his side.

You eat what you can, though you’ve run out of appetite before you even broke up. You force yourself, mostly because you don’t like how Kiko’s looking at you. How you notice her leaning to speak in Jo’s ear more than once during the meal.

You’re aware that they’re speaking of you – do they hate you as much as you hate yourself?

You doubt they can.

When dinner is over, you offer to clean the dishes. Jo ends up on washing duty with you, and you work in silence, water sloshing around as you rub the plates clean while she dries.

You’re cleaning a wine glass when she says, “How have you been?”

The question is a simple one. The truth isn’t so, and you wonder if you should lie. You think it’d be a mistake. Jo’s perceptive, she’d see right through the lie.

“I’ve been better,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders as if it doesn’t matter.

That much is a lie, because everything about him mattered.

“I can understand.”

Heavy silence follows, and you pass the glass to her. You hope she won’t speak more, hope she’ll offer you kindness and let you dwell on your mistakes, but you know it’s unlike her.

Indeed, she speaks up after a minute. “You know…” She pauses, and you glance once at her to find her features troubled. “I was wondering… what brought you to this decision?”

You freeze, hands in the water. It’s hot enough that your skin is turning scarlet, yet you barely even feel it. “What?”

“If you don’t want to speak about it it’s fine,” she gently says. “But I’m just concerned about you.”

“Did he ask you to ask me this?” you enquire, accusingly. You frown at the tone of your voice, and apologize as you resume washing the glass you’re holding.

“No,” she answers. “He hasn’t really been talking to anyone.”

You shudder, with horror and compulsion at the person that you were weeks ago, the one that caused him to isolate himself.

“Oh.”

Jo waits a moment, but when it’s clear that you aren’t going to speak again, she says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t prod.”

You wet your lips, swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s okay.”

Perhaps that’s also a lie. Perhaps you believe nothing is okay, nothing will be okay again. But you don’t voice it – it’s all your fault anyway.

“It’s okay if it isn’t okay, you know,” Jo gently says as you hand her a glass.

Your vision blurs, but no tears fall. No tears are left – you cry them to sleep every night already.

“Long distance is a bitch,” is what you eventually say. “You think you can make it through everything, and then long distance happens.”

You want to clench your hand around the third glass, want to feel the shards of it cutting through your palm like the shards of him have been stabbing through your heart. You force your grip to remain loose, lest you stain the sink with blood.

“Like for real, without it we would have been fine.”

You’ve told Jiho the same thing. You think you’ve told him the same thing, but you barely even remember the breakup. Just remember holding onto him at the end, and then winter seeping in through the crevices in your soul.

“I’m sorry.” Jo looks at you kindly when you glance her way. She offers you a sad smile that you want to hate, yet it just makes you want to break. “I’m really sorry it came between the two of you.”

You take a deep breath to tame the aching in your chest, nodding once. “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not.”

She’s right, so you remain silent. Choose to seek solace in a wordless moment, one you spend finishing the dishes. And when you’re done, and she’s wiping the last one, you find yourself asking, “How has he been doing?”

She stops moving, meets your gaze before letting her gaze drop to her hands. “As I said, he doesn’t really speak to anyone.”

“Which means he hasn’t been great.”

You know him enough to know that. She does too – she nods, before shrugging her shoulders. “Jimin and Tae have been making sure he’s okay though. Surviving.”

Because sometimes all there is to do is survive.

You’re relieved that his friends are there for him. It lessens the pain somehow, to know he’s not alone. You aren’t either – Jimin is your friend too and, even though she’s a mom of two, Jiho has been there for you ever since the breakup.

The first time Lisa asked you where Jungkook was though… felt like heartbreak uttered in an innocent sentence. Like the universe had gone wrong, like left and right were interchanged. You were lost then, and you still are today.

All at your expense.

“Good,” you answer.

She looks conflicted, pained – you understand why when she asks, “What about you?”

You clench your jaw out of reflex, as if it’s an accusation. As if admitting that you’re going through frozen hell is wrong of you, somehow. You think it is. After all, this is supposed to be better than the distance.

“I’ve got Jimin too, and Jiho,” you reply, voice strained. “Bridget and Heather too. They’ve been helping.”

Jo nods. “Good. Don’t isolate yourself.” There’s a pause, and her features turn pensive. “And you know, you got me too. You have all of us.”

Tears blur your vision, but like your soul they turn to ice before rolling down your cheeks. “Thank you.”

Smile apologetic, she nods again, as if her job here is done. And it must be – Kiko and Bridget walk into the kitchen, and they clearly don’t sense the atmosphere that’s clinging to you. They strike conversation with Jo, happily, and her stance switches to one that’s more relaxed.

You decide to leave them alone, because these three have always been a little closer to each other than you to them, and you return to the other room, where Chaeyeon, Valeria, Jiho and Heather are lounging on the couches. You debate leaving, debate claiming that you have to work early in the morning, but somehow you choose not to.

Is it a sign that you’re moving on? You don’t know.

When you do leave, later that night, at the same time as Jo and Chaeyeon do, you find yourself walking next to Jo as you head to your respective cars. Lance is picking Chaeyeon up, and she waves you two goodbye as you walk away.

You stuff your hands in the long sleeves of your hoodie, as if the air outside is remotely cold. It is not – there’s been a heatwave around for a few days. Luckily enough for you, a freezing heart seems to be a good remedy for the heat, and you still seek the comfort of your hoodie.

“I was wondering,” Jo says as you near where your car is parked. “Are you still planning on coming to the wedding?”

The forsaken wedding. The thing that set everything in motion – the spark that caught fire on years of your relationship.

You purse your lips, shrug your shoulders. “I think so,” you voice. “Yeah. You two are my friends, even if…”

If you’re closer to him. You don’t say as much, but it’s needless. Jo nods, understanding as ever, and she tells you that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.

You think she’s a fool for believing that you wouldn’t want to go. Because… what’s wrong with wanting to make sure he’s okay with your own two eyes? What’s wrong with needing to see him in another context than this never-ending winter?

That night, you lie awake for hours. Picturing him behind your closed eyelids, only to find emptiness where he should be. The blankets are cold, the fan overhead not needed, yet you can’t bring yourself to turn it off.

Can’t chase the feeling of his absence from your heart.

You seek solace in memories of him, in the thought of his lips on yours. Of the featherlight kisses you used to exchange in the dead of night, when sleep was evading you or him. You must be half asleep – because suddenly you can almost see him here. Can almost hear his voice as he’d call you baby, mouthing the word against your neck before he’d suck on it.

Your heartrate picks up with the memory – they’re flooding in. The smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, the inebriating sweetness of his kisses. You remember the weight of him on you, the press of his knee between your legs.

And then you seek solace with a hand between your thighs, trying to remember how he touched you. How his long fingers always dragged you to a land of pleasure, how he’d managed to keep you there until you were insane with his taste.

You breathe out his name, a soft moan, though it’s almost a plea. A plea for him to appear, for him to never have been gone.

For you to never have pushed him away.

When you come down from the high that finds you in your memories, you lie on your side, holding one of your plushies to your chest. They don’t replace him; they never have.

You end up crying yourself to sleep over the memories, over the July night sky and the dance crew and every night you took for granted, believing that he’d be yours forever.

You cry for your decision, no matter how right it was. Because you know it’ll always feel wrong.

Friday, July 28th

There’s something about work that’s been setting you on edge. That’s been making you want to pull your hair out of your head – if only that was possible. It’s strange; you’ve been thinking about the breakup less now that you’re neck deep in work.

Now that you spend hours upon hours at work, after the usual closing time.

Luckily enough, you’re almost never alone. Harrison accompanies all of those late evenings as you work through the case, as he tells you what to do and you tell him you don’t need his help. He laughs at that – Harrison has an easy laugh. It makes its way to his lips whenever you speak, and it’s been like a ray of light in the otherwise dark land of your heart.

He’s a good coworker. Someone that’s noticed just how bad you are, but that’s decided to not treat you differently. To let you nurse your heart in peace, while he offers you the normalcy of what work should be.

Today, at lunch break, he suggested going out for dinner and drinks, along with the rest of the team that’s been working on the case. Mostly because you’re finally closing in on something that is clearly going to be good, and he believes it’s important to celebrate. You don’t have it in you to say no, and that’s how you find yourself squeezed between him and Anna, the paralegal that you’ve worked with the most, in the booth of a nice pub near the firm.

You’ve been sharing a nacho plate with Harrison and Ian, another one of the junior partners of the firm, and you’re sipping on a glass of the pitcher of sangria that Anna ordered for you and her. The buzzing of chatter and laughter makes the pub into a lively place, and you reckon you like the atmosphere.

You like the plants that cascade from their pots on shelves in the walls, like the hanging lights that shine brightly onto the tables, like the brick wall that gives the pub a nice industrial vibe. It just feels right, different than your usual.

Or maybe it’s the fact that the crew is different. That you aren’t with people that inevitably remind you of Jungkook, even though they shouldn’t.

Harrison’s English accent catches your attention as he says something to Ian – something about leaving work related conversation to the firm. As you turn your head towards the man at your side, he offers you a glance.

Harrison has clear blue eyes. Pale, like they hold the Caribbean sea in them. His eyes are beautiful, sparkling, and you offer him a smile.

He’s quick to smile back, and then he continues his conversation with Ian, who’s decided to speak about sports instead. You decide to join in, even though you know practically nothing about sports, and the two men tease you for it.

There’s no bite to it, yet it feels familiar. Reminds you of someone that used to tease you all the time, and with the sangria coursing through your veins, you decide to jump on the occasion. To let the past be the past, and live in this moment, for once.

Perhaps it holds some sort of salvation for you.

“It’s not my fault if football is boring!” you insist. “It’s just dudes throwing a ball. Who cares about that?”

Harrison nudges you with his elbow. “Hey come on,” he says. “They don’t only throw a ball, sometimes they kick it too.”

He’s got a teasing smile on his lips, and to your surprise you find yourself rolling your eyes. “And the point system? Stupid.”

“It isn’t!” Harrison says, faking offense. “You wound me.”

You cock an eyebrow as Ian laughs, before turning to speak to Sam next to him as the guy asks him a question.

“Aren’t you British anyway?” you ask him. “Why do you watch football?”

“Because I like dudes that throw balls,” he jokes, before realizing that his sentence sounded wrong as you burst out laughing. “Well, not like that.”

“No, of course not,” you tease back.

“It’s just a fun sport,” he insists. “Used to watch it with my step-dad when I was younger.”

Now, the revelation eases the teasing mood that you’ve been diving into, and you offer him a small smile. “Sounds like fun.”

Because you can get that. You can understand the need to love something because someone you loved introduced you to it – dance was that for you, once upon a time. When your mother had introduced you to it, when you were too young to realize that to her, you dancing was just going to be an accomplishment.

Until it became a curse, as you chose to not pursue ballet the way she wanted you to. But that’s old history – even though you still don’t talk to your mother all that much, the hatred you’ve held for her for years after she’s kicked you out is lesser now. Practically non-existent, and you have your therapist to thank for that.

Years of therapy really did help, eventually.

You realize, tonight, how you haven’t really been living since you broke up. You’ve been a mere ghost, a mere winter wind, but tonight you think the air warms up. It warms up into a tentative spring breeze, and you cling to it.

You say yes when Harrison suggests heading to a club after, a VIP one where he’s a member along with Ian. Say yes to the shots offered to you, and you ignore the texts in the group chat with the girls saying that they want to meet up for lunch tomorrow. You focus on the now, focus on the fact that he’s not all you’re thinking of.

No, his big, doe eyes barely exist in your mind right now, replaced by ocean blue and an English accent. At least that’s what you tell yourself as Harrison says he’s a shit dancer, and you admit you were on a dance crew for years.

He cocks an eyebrow, says you’re full of shit, and that’s how you find yourself pulling him to the dance floor, not caring that his hair is paler than your usual, that his smile rings different.

Harrison is not a good dancer. He’s awkward, clumsy, and he steps on your feet more than once as you dance face to face, swaying to the beat of the club music. The flashing lights feel like a haven, like you don’t have to hide in the darkness left by Jungkook’s disappearance from your life.

You let Harrison put his hands on your waist, let him pull you closer, until he’s resting his forehead on yours. Your eyes shut from the proximity, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Somehow, that’s what makes you remember – not the dancing, but the intimacy of the position. It makes you crave another, makes you need to forget, and you’re the one that closes the gap.

You’re the one who kisses him first, and he kisses you back all wrong. There’s something missing – the piercing, perhaps – but you don’t let it deter you. Focus on the swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, and you sigh as you let him in.

But Jungkook is there, in your mind. When Harrison’s hands tighten on your waist, it’s in Jungkook’s hair that you want to thread your fingers through. When he groans softly in the kiss, as you bite his lower lip, it’s Jungkook’s lips that you want to be sucking on.

And you think it’ll always be Jungkook. He’ll haunt you forever – a reminder of your weakness, when it came to the distance. A reminder that, after everything, you’re the one that ruined it.

You’re the one that put an end to what was supposed to be forever.

It aches, coldly. You think your heart barely knows how to beat anymore. It’s erratic, painful, and when Harrison pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes finding yours, you think his irises are made of ice.

“Hey,” he says gently.

“Hey,” is all you can think to reply.

If he sees the torment in your eyes, he ignores it. Guides you back to the table, where he leaves you with Ian and the rest claiming that he’ll get a water for you. And he does – he comes back with two bottles of water, and he hands you one as he sits next to you.

You think that’s what undoes you. That’s what breaks you, spills the content of your aching soul right there on the club’s floor. You don’t know who’ll pick up the mess – the one it belongs to is far away from these flashing lights. Far, yet closer than he was when the ending came. Somewhere in the city, you believe, because you don’t think he’s gone back to Europe yet.

Would he answer, if you were to call him? Would he pick up right where you left off, whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if you haven’t destroyed his beating organ?

You hate it. Hate how, weeks later, the torture hasn’t diminished. Hate how you believed it’d be just a few rough days, when it’s been weeks and months and winter hasn’t changed.

So you do what you do best. You escape. Tell the table that you have to go, and make it outside before Harrison catches up to you. He asks if he can walk you home, which makes sense because you live in the same complex anyway. Not the same building, but Harrison lives in the one across the small square-like courtyard between the three condo towers where you’ve found a place to rent after Jungkook.

Up above, stars twinkle in the sky. They seem unaware that, after that cataclysm of a July night, the story came to an end. Like the universe never meant it, when it put you and him together. Or maybe it’s you – maybe you created a new cataclysm. Wrote your own fate, and all that crap.

You’re getting dizzy. Both with alcohol and spinning thoughts, but luckily enough the walk is short. Harrison grants you silence, sensing that you need it, probably. Because he’s gentlemanly. Not that Jungkook wasn’t – it’s just different.

And you shouldn’t be comparing him to Jungkook, but it’s far too easy. Especially as your treacherous little mouth asks him if he wants to share a drink in your apartment, as you tell him that you feel better now that you’ve breathed some air.

He says yes, though he seems unsure. He seems unsure all the way up to your floor, and even more so as you pull him in a kiss when the door closes behind you and him. Especially as you breathe against his lips, “Do you think you can make me forget?”

After everything is done, and you lie awake next to his naked form, both of you staring up at the ceiling in silence, you know the answer to that question.

And it’s quite simple – no. Because no one will ever be able to make you forget the one you were supposed to be with until you turned to stardust. Until all that would have been left of the two of you was etchings on a stone, and memories in the space between this life and the next.

Harrison is kind – he tells you that he senses you shouldn’t have done it, gently. Tells you that the only person that can make you forget is yourself, and time. And when he leaves, he tells you not to worry about anything. That he can be a friend, if you need it, but that he doubts you want anything more.

He’s right, and you cry yourself to sleep holding onto Totoro and Appa, hoping weeks ago you would have listened to Jungkook when he’d said not to break up. Hoping to turn back time, cursing the linearity of it. Remembering the punctuate events of you and him, wondering how the distance was enough to undo your timeline.

The sun winks at you when it rises, mocking you as night ends, with no answer for you. The what-ifs shine as brightly as the rays of the morning, all of them piercing through your darkened heart.

You shiver and hide your face in Totoro, hoping one day you’ll be able to evade winter.

Friday, August 18th

Jungkook’s first thought when he steps into the restaurant is that it’s too loud. Too bright, with happy couples and smiling families sharing a meal as if life’s never ended, three months and ten days ago. He feels like an imposter – he hasn’t smiled since you left, and hasn’t laughed since before that.

He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, when Taehyung suggested it. Maybe because Taehyung and Jimin can be firmly persuasive, when they decide they’ll do something. Though, this time around, they’re not doing anything.

Anything other than having set this blind date with one of Taehyung’s coworkers.

Jungkook decides to find solace in his thoughts. Away from the bustling crowd of the restaurant, into the cool darkness where he’s been evading since he moved to his new apartment. Somewhere where the pain is lesser, where he doesn’t cry all the time.

That’s where she finds him. A shy smile, rosy cheeks as she voices, “Jungkook?”

He meets her gaze, finds her long lashes as she looks up at him innocently. He’s struck – she’s way out of his league. But so were you, and he’s got a whole story to tell about you now. He looks around as if to make sure the girl was speaking to him, as if she didn’t say his name, before he answers, “I assume you’re Emma.”

Another shy smile, and Emma nods her head. “The one and only.”

Jungkook wets his lips, and when the server comes to bring them to a table, he lets his gaze drop to the ground as he follows behind Emma.

He sits in front of her, feeling odd as she blushes and looks through the menu. Her shyness makes him feel awkward, and he doesn’t know what to say.

With you, he always knew what to say.

He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and then lets his eyelids flutter open so that he can look through the menu too. He thinks, he just has to make it through the evening. Doesn’t have to see the girl again, even though her shy smiles are cute.

She is cute, but she’s not you. No one will ever compare to you.

He takes a deep breath once more, tries to push you out of his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, it’s not as hard. Maybe because his awkwardness is winning over, making him all too aware of every glance the girl throws his way.

They order, barely exchanging a word, until the girl throws him a lifeline. She asks about his photography, admits Taehyung told her about it, and Jungkook settles in his comfort space as he tells her about it, as he answers her question.

It’s impersonal, almost professional, but at least it keeps the pain at bay for a while. He even thinks he’s enjoying himself – by the time they’re eating and he’s drank half of his beer, he does feel lighter. Like he can finally breathe, like the hand clutching his heart in his chest has loosened.

Or maybe he’s just been getting too good at burrowing his feelings deep inside of him. Still, he barely smiles, barely laughs. And he knows none of his smiles quite reach his eyes, and he knows the girl must have noticed. She doesn’t say anything though, focuses on telling him what she does for work, and then goes on to tell him about what it was like for her growing up.

He zones out, nods when he figures he has to, tries to smile when there’s a lull in the conversation. He’s clearly not good at that – he’s never really gone on dates before. Except with Laura, before you, but even that barely counted as a date. Perhaps because he already knew Laura, and he’s struck thinking that the girl in front of him is a stranger. A stranger, yes, but she’s kind. So when she suggests sharing a bottle of wine, claiming that it’s her favourite and that she’s wanted to drink it in a long time, Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to say no.

Even though they’re already done with eating. She does order dessert, and he watches her eat as he nurses his glass of wine, taking sips from it once in a while.

He hasn’t drunk in a long time, and the effects start to be felt faster than usual. Or maybe the beer he drank before the wine was strong. Either way, his head starts swimming with alcohol before they’re out of the restaurant, and he relishes in the feeling.

Revels in Emma’s suggestion to take a walk to clear their head, along the small river near the restaurant. The evening air is fresh, though clouds hide the stars from view. It smells of rain – there are leftover puddles from earlier today – but it doesn’t seem like the sky will cry again tonight.

A soft breeze plays in Jungkook’s hair. He hasn’t cut it in a while. It used to be a lot longer, but he’s not used to it anymore, so it feels weird whenever strands of his hair pass in front of his eyes. He tries to push them back but to no avail: the strands stubbornly always fall in front of his eyes again, and he ends up giving up after a moment.

Turns out Emma is a gamer. She suggests playing some games together the next time they hang out, and Jungkook doesn’t have it in himself to tell her that they, as a matter of fact, won’t see each other ever again. Not because she isn’t sweet – she’s just not what he wants. And he doesn’t even want the distraction.

He did that once, and it didn’t serve him good. Even if he managed to have you in the end.

“What’s your favourite game?” Emma asks as she stops next to some railing overlooking the water. She leans against it, forearms resting on it as she looks at the water, eyes following the ripples in the river.

“I don’t game as much anymore,” he admits. He shrugs, tries to ignore the way his lungs burn.

Because he used to game with you next to him, and he doesn’t need reminders of you.

“Mine is Valorant,” she says, and she smiles at him as if she expected that to make him happy.

“Oh,” he lets out. He offers her a tight-lipped smile, and feels bad when her face falls a little. So he quickly adds, “I took you more for a Sims girl.”

She fakes offense. “What? Why?”

There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and he’s struck silent as he watches it. She seems to take that as a cue for something else, because she takes a step closer to him, eyes dropping to his mouth.

He thinks he’s frozen on his spot when she tilts her head back, tiptoes, and presses a featherlike kiss on his lips. Eyes wide opened, he watches her, until he figures he should be kissing her back.

So he does, hesitantly, as lead forms in his stomach, making him think that he’s going to be sick. Because she kisses him all wrong. Tastes all wrong too, and suddenly you’re burning in his mind, bright magma that moves in his veins until pain suffocates his lungs.

He takes a step back, and Emma’s eyes shoot open, as if startled. They stare at each other for a time, and then she gulps.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t care for her apology. Doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that he feels disgusted with himself. And for what? It’s not like he owes you anything anymore. As a matter of fact, he should be enjoying this. Should be enjoying that even though he was his most awkward self, he still was able to get the girl to kiss him.

Instead, he burns and he chokes on his saliva as he tries to swallow. He wonders why his vision is blurry, and he furiously blinks his eyes trying to keep Emma in focus.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “Gosh, I read this all wrong. I…” she pauses, shaking her head slightly, and it seems she’s been wearing a mask all evening, because it crumples into nothingness. “I just got out of a long relationship, Tae said you too and I just… Fuck I just assumed we could comfort each other?” When he remains silent, she continues, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

She’s rambling, and Jungkook just hears his blood pumping in his ears. When he still doesn’t speak, she apologizes once more, and then tells him that she should go.

He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t even look as she walks away, head hung low in what he assumes is shame. All he feels is the deep burning sensation, as it settles under his skin. Like a sunburn – he wants to scratch at it, wants to rip it from his skin, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re gone, and this ache is all that’s left of you. It’s all that’s left, so he clings to it. Tries to keep it close to his heart, where you belong. Picks at the scab, at the wound, until he’s bleeding all over again, breaking out in the city, where anyone can see that he’s lost you.

He doesn’t know how he makes it home. All that he knows is that he’s in the shower, later, head pressed against the tiles as cold water runs on his back. It mingles with the tears streaking down his cheeks, mixes with the saltiness of heartbreak.

It doesn’t cool the sunburn ache, doesn’t ease the pain in his chest. And you’re everywhere then – in the cracks on the wall, he believes he can see you. Believes he can reach out for you, though what he ends up doing is cranking the temperature of the shower up, until it’s not cold anymore.

Though he reckons he barely can feel it anymore.

So he forces his eyes shut, chases memories of you like a dog chases its tail – round in round, in a circle, because he thinks he’ll always circle back to you anyway. He imagines you, in all your glory. Imagines you’ve never left, imagines you’d still run your hands on his back, still dig your nails in his skin.

He doesn’t even know how his hand finds its way to the base of his dick. Doesn’t even know why he’s horny, why the pain makes him crave you more. Why it makes him touch himself, imagining it’s your touch. And with his eyes squeezed shut, you’re everywhere. The goddess of the land of his mind, and he can almost believe you’re still here.

He grunts, perhaps in pain, and picks up the pace on his dick. He remembers words whispered on your skin, your spit on his dick as you’d swallow around the tip. He remembers your tight walls, clutching him, holding him in as you’d ride him like there was no tomorrow.

He remembers a hot tub and the night that followed, remembers breaking and healing with you. Remembers the darkness of the accident, and the light you’d shine on him. The light is gone now, and only darkness remains. It’s not the same – it’s lonelier, somehow. Because he had everything, and now remains nothing. Just the ghost of what once was, and he wishes he could be taken back to the night on the hotel rooftop, wishes you’d never left.

And when he comes, it’s your name that he moans. Like a blessing, though now you’re a curse. A curse to him, and he wishes the pain would go away, wishes it would stay. Wishes it would bring you back, yet knowing he’d push you away. Because he doesn’t think there is pain as great as what you caused him, and then he curses himself for the thought.

That night, he lies awake in sheets cold as winter, weakened by his broken heart as he chases sleep that never comes.

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shadowlali · 4 months

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hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies

COD AU - Phillip Graves x bed and breakfast owner!fem!reader

[18+] summary: Phillip visits a bed and breakfast from his childhood. He meets the new owner, a sweet soul who helps him grieve. wc: 6.3k masterlist

[photos found on pinterest, all credit to original owners of the photos above]

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, DUAL P.O.V., no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, talks about losing loved ones (grandparent, great aunt, great uncle), soft!graves, pet names, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink (if you squint) a/n: happy new year's! here's my take at a soft (but still commanding) graves <3 thank you all for the support! when i started this blog in august i never though i'd have people read my stuff 😭 may you all have an amazing and blessed new year! also don't read too much into the layout/logistics of the bed and breakfast i've only been to like two or three lol

Phillip’s. P.O.V.

Phillip sits in his idling car, staring at the dreamy, two-story bed and breakfast. It’s covered in a light sheet of snow with a few cars parked in the front. Through the big, front window, he can see the orange flickers of light emanating from the fireplace.

It’s been years since he’s last visited. Despite the welcoming atmosphere of the town and of the house, his heart hammers in his chest. He recognizes the same small grocery store, same tiny post office, same park… but it seems different?

And it is, at least to him. His grandmother, the one who introduced him to this place decades ago, is long gone. It didn’t matter that his parents would abandon him months on end, he had his grandmother and that was more than enough.

They stumbled on this town decades ago, when he was just a boy. Eventually it became a tradition. Every year his grandmother would bring him and every year they would stay in this bed and breakfast. He remembers the hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies and the soft beds. He remembers the older couple who owned the place, how kind and willing they were to include Phillip and his grandma in their holiday traditions.

Then it stopped. He joined the military, was shipped all over the world and only saw his grandma a few times a year. She never seemed to mind, happy to see her grandson all grown up and doing something he loved. The time spent with her became less and less. Lines and white hair, a symbol of a life well lived, appeared on her. It only made her more beautiful to him.

But time eventually caught up to her. Her hands shook when she reached for a cup of tea and it took her longer to walk up the stairs. Phillip didn’t want to stay away anymore. He had already thought of creating Shadow Company to be his own boss, his own commander. And his grandmother’s worsening condition only made him work faster to achieve that dream.

He didn’t see her too often, but she stayed in his home, under the care of a specialized team. Once Shadow Company was built, they had only three holidays together. Three holidays spent in the cute mountain town in the same two-story bed and breakfast. On the last Christmas before her passing, he held in his tears. She was too frail to open her presents. It was difficult for her to walk without assistance and her memory had long begun to fail her.

But they sat in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the chatter of the other guests and family of the owners. He held her softer hand in his and basked in the warmth of the flames and the love of his grandma. She turned slightly in her chair, covered under a mountain of blankets, and stared at his side profile.

Phillip… my baby boy, she had said softly. He turned to look at her, feeling her soft hand cup his cheek. Yeah, gram? I’m right here. A few months after that, once they were back in Texas, she passed peacefully in her sleep. There were hundreds of cards and flowers sent by everyone who knew her. There were people he didn’t even recognize at her funeral. But it was a testament to how loved she was by those around her.

The couple from the bed and breakfast visited and expressed how hurt they were by her passing. Their bodies were also frail and soon after they would pass too. He cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears. A strong, assertive soldier reduced to tears. Phillip walked around his grandmother’s room at his home and wrapped himself in the blankets she would knit. Time passed and he threw himself into his work, not thinking too much about her or the memories.

Even now, many years later, it still pains his heart when he thinks of her. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to see the park and the swings where she’d push him until he felt like he was flying. He doesn’t want to see the snow and think about the snow angels or the snowball fights they used to have. It hurts. It hurts so much to relive those memories.

But he can’t live like this anymore. He wants to remember her and everything she did for him. Phillip wants to grieve properly even if he knows it’ll split his heart wide open. She deserves to be talked about and her memory deserves to be cherished.

Before his surge of confidence fades, Philip turns off the SUV and grabs his luggage from the passenger seat. He jogs across the street, wanting to escape the cold. He reaches the porch, seeing Christmas lights wrap around the front posts. It's past Christmas now, only a few days away from New Years, but he can see the giant green tree with shiny ornaments through the window.

Before he can knock on the door, it swings open. You stand there, encased in a knit sweater and leggings, looking way too sweet and soft for your own good. Phillip is left speechless for a moment, blinded by the smile on your pretty face.

“Hi! Welcome, come on in!” you say, motioning for him to enter the foyer.

Phillip clears his throat and offers you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You close the door behind him, passing close enough for him to smell your perfume. Without thinking he breathes in deep, filling his lungs. He follows you to the front desk, wondering if you're related to the previous owners. As he gives his name and hands over his license he discreetly looks at your name tag. Phillip rolls your name quietly over his tongue, looking away once you take your eyes off of the computer.

“You’ve been here before! Your name is in our system,” you exclaim.

His heart pinches uncomfortably and before he can formulate a response you reach over on the desk and grab a picture frame.

“I thought you looked like the boy in this photo… this is you, right? With your grandma and my great aunt and uncle!”

He takes the picture frame from you, brushing against your soft hands. His breath catches in his throat and tears prick his eyes. It is him with his grandmother alongside what he now knows to be your great aunt and great uncle. He’s a young teen in this photo, at this point already taller than his grandma.

“They passed when I was young but they always talked about you and her. You guys were like a second family to them,” your soft voice breaks through his thoughts.

“They were–they were always so welcoming to us,” he whispers,” I have some great memories from this place.”

He hands back the picture and you place it once more on the desk. You hand him a key and walk around the desk towards the hallway.

“Well, Mr. Graves, I hope you’re able to create some new ones.”

“Phillip is fine, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”

You hum, nodding your head slightly. You ask if he needs help with his luggage and he immediately says no, motioning you to continue walking. He follows you, taking in his surroundings. Not much has changed since he was last here. The same dark wood floors and furniture adorn the place. He sees photos of other guests on small tables and on the walls of the hallway.

He breathes in the familiar scent of the home and lets the warmth wash over him.

“Is it just you here? Do other family members help run the place?” Phillip asks as you lead him up the stairs.

“It used to be my parents, but they left it to me. They said I’m more passionate about this house.”

“I remember how packed it got when I was younger,” Phillip states,” we always made sure to make our reservations well in advance.”

“It was like that a few days ago during Christmas,” you agree,” my parents came to help. I like it though, it’s always fun meeting new people.”

You stop at the end of the hallway and open the door to the large bedroom. A canopy bed with white curtains and fluffy pillows is placed in the center of the room. There’s a large dresser and nightstand in the same dark wood style as the furniture throughout the house. It’s exactly as Phillip remembers.

“I put towels in the bathroom for you and some extra blankets in the storage bench,” you say as you motion towards the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’m down the hall if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, doll. I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Do you want any coffee or tea? I had just taken out the cookies from the oven before I saw you through our camera.”

Phillip laughs, now understanding why you opened the door before he knocked. “No thank you, I think I’m just going to get ready for bed.”

“Alright Mr. Gra–Phillip,” you remind yourself,” Have a good night!”

- - -

Phillip walks down the stairs, seeing cars leave the driveway from the window.

“Bye, thank you for coming! Have a safe trip back home,” you call out through the open front door.

“Mornin’,” he calls out.

You close the door before turning towards him. “Goodmorning, Phillip! How’d you sleep? Do you want some coffee?”

“Good, great actually. Those beds, wow, the softest I’ve ever slept on.”

You laugh in agreement. “Yeah, they did good in choosing that brand of mattresses. Coffee? Or are you going out?”

“Coffee would be great, doll.”

He follows you to the dining room where he sees an assortment of pastries, eggs, coffee, juice, and other breakfast items on the table.

“Any plans for today?” you ask while serving him a cup of coffee.

He takes a moment to think about your question. He really isn’t sure where to begin in this town. There’s a few places his grandmother would take him, but Phillip wonders how difficult and uncomfortable it will be for him to revisit those places without her. It’s difficult enough to be in this place with the memories hitting him at every corner.

“Uh, I’m not quite sure. Maybe take a walk around town.”

You fiddle with your sweater as an anxious look crosses your face. “I found something this morning in the attic. Is it okay for me to show it to you?”

Phillip’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion and he nods. You walk into the kitchen and a minute later walk out with a leather book in your hands. You pull out the chair next to Phillip, sit and open the book to reveal pages of photos.

“It’s their photo album,” you explain,” from all of their guests. I went to look for some light bulbs and accidently knocked over a box. This was inside of it.”

You flip some pages and land on photos of a younger Phillip and his grandmother. Phillip gently grabs the photo album and brings it closer to him. There’s pictures from the very first time they visited to pictures of him and his grandma ice skating at the park. Each flip of the page shows Phillip at different stages of his life and all around town or in the house.

“I can tell by your face that this is as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.”

Phillip nods,” I had no idea there were photos. Why do you think they kept these?”

“I’m not quite sure, they never mentioned anything when I was younger. They only showed me the picture that’s on the front desk. Maybe they forgot about it?”

Phillip nods absentmindedly, flipping through the many pages. Tears prick his eyes and he gets a wave of nostalgia and grief. Before a teardrop falls he quickly slams the book shut and pushes it back to you.

“Thank you, uh, for showing me this,” Phillip murmurs as he stands up.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Phillip,” you stress,” the last thing I wanted to do was make you sad. I just wanted to show you these because I know it makes me feel better when I look back through photos.”

Phillip stops in his tracks with your words.

“It makes you feel better?”

You nod quickly, standing up from your own chair and walking slowly towards Phillip. “I mean, of course it hurts to think that my loved ones aren’t here anymore. But, I have pictures and I have memories. I talk about them and I visit places we went together and I make new memories.”

Phillip rubs a hand on his forehead, taking in your words. He wonders if this is where he should begin. Seeing those photos made Phillip feel emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. But that’s why he’s here, to honor her and no longer repress his memories.

“It’s–it’s hard for me to think about my grandma. I don’t know how to–to get through this sadness. It’s been so long but it still feels as if it just happened.”

“Is that why you’re here? To process her passing?”

“Yes,” Phillip whispers,” it’s funny, actually. I’m a soldier who’s used to running onto battlefields and dangerous territories without a second thought. But this,” he points to the photo album,” scares me… I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but I feel like I can trust you.”

You beam at him, showing him the pretty smile that’s captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on you. “Of course you can trust me Phillip. And I know we just met but you don’t have to be scared. I can help you if you’d like?”

“How?”

“Well,” you say while walking back to the photo album and flipping to the first page with his photos,” there’s a ton of activities you can do according to these pictures. Like ice skating at the park.”

Phillip scratches his head, not quite up to do things alone. “I don’t know if I want to go by myself–”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

Phillip’s heart skips a beat at your suggestion. “You’d do that, sweetheart? Don’t you have guests here?”

“No! You’re the last one until after New Year’s. I’d love to help you Phillip, but I also don’t want to interfere in any plans or bother you–”

“No, no. That would actually be–be really helpful.”

Phillip smiles back, entranced by the twinking in your eyes.

“Anywhere in particular you’d like to go first?”

The walk to town is straight out of a movie with snow covering the many trees and rustic-like houses. Despite the cold, the town square is filled with people and laughter. Vendors are set up around the park, selling hot chocolate and different foods.

“I’m not sure, what do ya’ think?” he asks.

“How about the ice rink?”

“Only to watch, not actually skate–”

“What?” you exclaim. “No way. We’re getting on the ice!”

You link your hand in his and begin pulling him towards the open ice rink. He drags his feet, suddenly nervous at the idea of balancing on thin blades. He feels like an awkward teenager again, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of the pretty girl he likes.

“Come on, Phillip! You can’t hug the wall the entire time,” you call out.

“I’m not huggin’ the damn— Jesus, fine.” Phillip responds, pushing off the railing and slowly skating towards you.

You start skating backwards, moving farther away for Phillip to follow you. He’s lucky, the rink is mostly empty apart from a few others.

“Where are you goin’ doll? How about we stay in one place–”

“No, silly,” you tease him,” you need to re-learn how to skate. Plus, we need to recreate the picture.”

“Recreate the picture?”

You stop at his question and reach into your jacket pocket. Finally, he thinks as he approaches you. You pull out a stack of photos, the ones from inside of the photo album.

“I brought them so we know exactly what to do. The tree is still up,” you say as you point to the giant christmas tree,” if you stand here I can take a picture and you’ll have a new one. I was thinking you could recreate some of the photos.”

It’s a good idea, a sweet one at that. Even if his legs are slightly shaking from being unbalanced and he knows he’ll eventually make a fool out of himself on the ice, it’s a step in the right direction of the grieving process.

You skate around him and hold up your phone to take a photo. “Ready?”

Phillip stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do. You call out a simple smile but it takes him a moment to do so. He looks around, watching children stumble on the ice and parents or grandparents there to pick them up and push them to try again. He turns to look at people walking through the park, couples hand in hand or children playing in the snow. He feels the wind ruffle his hair slightly and brush across his face.

So he smiles. A genuine smile. One that doesn’t feel forced or sad. He hears the shutter sounds come from your phone and you skate towards him after a few clicks.

“Here, I think these look perfect,” you say as you show him the screen.

“Okay, now it's your turn–”

“No, Phillip. I don’t need any pictures–”

He makes a tsk sounds and grabs your hand before you're able to skate away. “We’ll take one together, that’s my compromise to your idea.”

You roll your eyes playful at him but nonetheless hand him your phone. His pulse flutters on his neck as you lean in closer while he snaps a photo of the both of you. Phillip hands you the phone and you playfully bump into him as you skate away.

“Okay,” he warns,” we’re done here–”

“Show me what you got, Commander.”

After the third time he slips and lands on his butt, you finally decide to leave for the next task. His ego is bruised only a little, the giggles and soft hands you offered every time he fell down were worth the minor embarrassment.

“The hot chocolate your great aunt made was amazing, but I remember liking this one too,” Phillip says once inside the little bakery.

“Her secret was maple syrup and dark chocolate. I haven’t been able to recreate it exactly like hers but I’m still trying.”

The both of you reach the front counter and you order a hot chocolate and sugar donut while Phillip orders a coffee and croissant.

“Coffee? No, Phillip! You need to order a hot chocolate–he’ll get a hot chocolate instead,” you tell the employee.

“Wait–” he starts, but by then the employee has left to prepare the order. “You do realize that I’m a grown man?”

“And? Where’s your childlike wonder? Where’s your inner child, Phillip?” you tease.

You try to pay using your card but Phillip pushes your hand away. “What’re you doin’?”

“It’s my treat, Phil–”

“Don’t be silly, doll,” he gently chastises.

You find a table and sit down, Phillip sliding into the booth right next to you. You cheers his cup and Phillip watches you take a sip. A jolt of arousal hits him the moment you moan at the taste of the drink. Phillip looks away quickly once you make eye contact, feeling himself overheat. He’s usually not so shy around women, quite the opposite actually.

But the emotions he’s experiencing with you are… new. And it’s not because you’re helping him and he’s somehow replacing his grandmother’s memory with you, it’s because you’re sweet. You don’t even know him, yet since the minute you spoke to him you were genuine in your kindness. Here you are now, helping him with your encouraging words and pretty face.

You give him a shy smile and place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards his own cup. “Try it, Phillip!”

He takes a sip, immediately transported back to his childhood. “Yup, this is just how I remember.”

He hears the shutter of a camera and turns to see you taking pictures of him. He takes the phone from your hands and has you pose to take some of you then of you two together.

In just a few short hours, you’re able to help him recreate most of the photos. By late afternoon, snow begins to fall, landing on your cheeks and eyelashes. The both of you are standing outside the bed and breakfast, admiring a snowman left by one of the guests. He’s enthralled, listening to the rasp of your voice while you recount a story of a snowman you built when you were younger.

You tilt your head back, watching the snowflakes drift down slowly from the sky. He watches them land on your lips and soft skin, suddenly jealous that the snowflakes get to kiss you first.

“Anyways, hungry? Phillip?” you ask, a confused look on your face at his silence.

“Right–yeah, I mean yes,” he stammers out, feeling his face heat.

“How about I cook us something–”

“Let me, as a thank you for today. Going out of your way to help me alleviate the pain, let me at least repay the favor.” Phillip interrupts.

“You don’t have to repay–”

“Show me to the kitchen, sweetheart.”

The busy bee that you are, he soon realizes, you do show him the kitchen but immediately begin cleaning the now empty rooms. He prepares a dish he knows too well, roasted chicken and an assortment of vegetables he finds in the fridge. Even with the soft music playing in the living room and the crackle of the fireplace, he can hear you gently humming from the hallway while you sweep.

He sets another pot of coffee and hears a knock on the front door. You jog to the door and open it, saying hello and thank you so much before shutting the door and walking away. Phillip finishes cooking and washing the dishes he used about an hour later and calls you over to the dining room.

“Who knew the Commander could cook?” you praise him.

He smiles at your comment, a slight flush appearing on his neck. “I’m a real jack-of-all-trades.”

After dinner, the both of you sit in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth. He listens as you talk about your New Year’s resolutions, mainly wanting to find the time and energy to travel more. Phillip finds comfort in your voice, allowing himself to fantasize what it would be like to retire from Shadow Company and travel the world with you. It’s crazy, since he just met you, but he allows himself to imagine.

“I don’t even know what day it is today. Once Christmas passes it’s hard to keep track. Oh,” you say after a yawn,” I almost forgot.”

You jump out of your seat and pad quickly up the stairs. He listens to your soft footsteps walk around the second floor, then you come back down with another leather book.

“I know I’ve already airdropped the photos to you, but I thought you’d like this as well.”

He takes the book from your hands and opens it, finding all of the old photos matched to the new ones. It’s the pictures of himself, in front or in the middle of whatever activity he and his grandmother were doing. He flips through the pages, finding comfort in her smile, knowing she’d want him to be happy, to not hold onto the pain but only remember the good times they spent together.

He turns to look at you, uncaring that there’s tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It’s more than enough, Phillip,” you whisper, reaching to wipe away a teardrop with your thumb,” Through your stories and the stories of my great aunt and uncle, I feel like I got to know her too.”

“How’d ya’ get these printed so fast?”

“I had my friend at the print shop do it!”

You pull your hand back but Phillip grabs it, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand and another to your wrist. He leaves his lips there for a moment, feeling the flutter of your pulse. He hears the sharp intake of your breath and places another kiss on your skin. You pull your hand away slowly and stand up, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to look through the photo album. I think it’d be good for you to have some alone time, yeah?”

Phillip nods his head in agreement,“ thank you again, doll.”

Once you're upstairs and he hears the sound of water running from your shower, he allows himself to cry. He traces his fingertips on his grandmother’s face, wishing she were still here. He cries until he can barely see, until the photos become too blurry to focus on.

He cries for keeping the memories locked away in his mind for so many years, for not cherishing her memory. He cries for your thoughtfulness and for your gift. Eventually, he makes his way upstairs and falls heavy on the bed. Exhaustion takes control and he falls asleep, the book still in his hand.

- - -

Reader’s P.O.V.

You’re up early the next morning, like most days. You hear the front door close as you descend the stairs and once you open the blinds, you see Phillip walking in the distance towards the town. He seemed like he appreciated the gift, and you really hope he liked it. The night before, you could hear his sobs and it took everything in you not to come back down and comfort him. But, he needed his time alone.

You finish cleaning up the rest of the rooms, really only needing to put the sheets and towels to wash as you had finished most chores the night before. You’re in the process of starting a fresh pot of coffee and taking muffins out of the oven when you see someone out of the corner of your eye. You turn and find Phillip leaning against the doorjamb with a small smile on his face.

“Good morning, Phillip. How’d you sleep?”

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” he pauses and takes a deep breath before responding,”... good. I had a good night's rest. How ‘bout you?”

“Great!” you respond, a smile spreading across your face.

He places a paper bag from your friend’s print shop on the table. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Phillip pulls out a lavender colored photo album from the bag and presents it to you.

“Oh, Phillip. You didn’t have to buy me a new one! We have a ton of them all over–”

“Doll,” he interrupts,” open it.”

You take it and open up the album, gasping as you see the pictures from the day before. There’s some of you ice skating and of you drinking hot chocolate at the bakery and of course the pictures Phillip took of the both of you.

“This is–wow, Phillip,” you whisper,” I don’t know what to say. This is incredibly sweet of you.”

You flip through the pages for a few minutes, seeing you and Phillip posing. He took time out of his day to not only print the photos, but rearrange them in the album. Your heart beats fast in your chest, the crush you have on him only growing. Without another word you wrap your arms around Phillip. He returns the hug immediately, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m grateful, ya’ know? To you, for being with me while I work through it all,” Phillip says once you pull back,” I still have a lot to do on my own. But you were there, encouraging me to take the first step. The major first step.”

He cups the side of your face and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You’re sure you have a dreamy look in your eyes, completely taken aback by the blue of his.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.

“What–”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes flicking from yours back to your lips.

You nod, meeting him halfway. His lips are soft and plush. Phillip cups the back of your head with one hand while the other is placed on your lower back. You run light fingers through his thick hair, running the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. Phillip groans, pushing his hips into yours.

He grinds his erection into your lower belly and moves his hand to cup the curve of your bottom. You lift up your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. He angles his hips to grind right against your clothed pussy, eliciting a whimper from your mouth.

Phillip breaks away from the kiss, trailing open mouth kisses to your throat. “Let me take you upstairs,” he groans,” please, sweet girl.”

“Yes, yes, Phillip.”

In under two minutes Phillip is able to get you up to your room. You stand at the edge of your bed while he kisses a path over your clothed breasts and down to the waistband of your leggings. He pulls them down, trailing his lips over the soft skin of your thighs. You wiggle out of them, goosebumps erupting on your sensitive skin.

He presses open mouth kisses to your cotton panties, looping his fingers on the sides and pulling them down slowly. You're wet and achy and hot, all thanks to him. You grip the edges of your sweater and pull it off. Phillip stands to unclip your bra, immediately latching his mouth to your swollen nipples. You link your fingers in his hair and tug, feeling his teeth bite gently on your skin.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” Phillip whispers while gently pushing you to lay on the bed.

He brings your hips right to the edge, spreading open your thighs and running light fingers over your slit.

“All wet and swollen just f’me,” he groans.

You nod even though he’s not looking at you, more focused on kneeling and burying his face in your cunt. “Just for you, just for you–oh god!”

He licks a broad, quick stripe from your entrance to your sensitive clit. He does it again, lapping up your juices.

“Phillip,” you drag his name out in a long moan.

“What baby?” he teases,” you want more?”

He slips a finger inside your drooling entrance, moans erupting from the both of you. He fucks into you gently, adding a second finger and swiping his tongue through your folds. Phillip’s tongue swipes up and up and over your clit repeatedly. You twist and squirm your hips, feeling electricity coil in your tummy. You thank the gods that the house is completely empty because the sounds emanating from your mouth are dirty.

“Such a sweet girl,” Phillip coos against your wet skin,” keep makin’ those sounds f’me.”

Phillip curves his fingers and speeds up his movements, the wet from your pussy only making it easier. So soft and beautiful girl falls from his lips the few moments he comes up for air. You feel heat spread rapidly through your body and then you're falling, falling, falling into the abyss, gripping the comforter tightly to hold you in place. He places a strong hand on your stomach to keep you still while you writhe from his tongue and fingers.

“Oka–okay, no mo–more,” you cry out, shaking from the intensity of the aftershocks.

“You made such a pretty mess,” he groans.

Phillip removes his fingers, placing his forehead on your inner thigh. He breathes in deep and places tiny, wet kisses up to your tummy.

“How was that, sweetheart? Wanna keep going?” he whispers, biting the sensitive skin on your chest.

You move your hands to cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. You lick and bite his jaw, cleaning up your mess and leaving behind red marks on his skin. He falls perfectly between your thighs, lightly grinding his still clothed erection on your sensitive skin.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you murmur, sliding your hands underneath his crew neck sweater. “Take them off,” you giggle.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, quickly sliding off the bed.

You sit up and watch as he throws off his sweater and then unbuckles his jeans. While he pushes them down, you bring a hand to his muscled stomach, stroking the heated skin. His cock comes into view and you gasp slightly at the size. You reach a hand down to gently stroke his length, shivering at the feel.

“Don’t worry doll,” he moans,” you can take me.”

He grasps your hand, lay back down, whispered in the quiet room. Phillip climbs on the bed and spreads your thighs to accommodate his hips. He wraps your thigh around his waist and rubs his thick cock between your folds. You reach a hand down and guide him right to your dripping entrance. You throw your head back into the soft pillows, feeling him slide into your messy cunt. He works himself all the way in, his eyes half lidded and jaw clenched.

“Phillip,” you whimper,” you’re deep, baby.”

“Fuck, like if you–if you were ma–made f’me,” he mutters.

Phillip hips fuse to yours and you feel the coarse hair on his groin rub on your wet skin. He stays still, running hands over your thighs and up to your swollen nipples, breathe, baby, he repeats to you. He runs his thumb over your lips, sliding it into the warmth of your mouth.

He stretches you, reaches deep inside of you with his thick cock. You squeeze him, adjusting to his size and the feel of him all around you. He slides back out slowly, gripping your thigh for a better angle. In one swift movement he pushes back in. You suck and bite his thumb, gagging slightly when he pushes it deeper into your mouth.

“Honey, fuck–you feel like honey,” he groans, keeping his eyes locked where you two are joined.

He slips his thumb out of your mouth and moves it to rub small circles on your clit.

“Like that, just like that,” you cry.

Phillip keeps the pace, sliding out and pushing all the way back in. You become limp in his hands, molded by his touch and by his cock. He reaches your cervix with each thrust, kissing the end of you, deeper that anyone else has ever reached.

“Feels good, doll?” he asks, moving faster. “Am I stretching this little pussy?”

Tears fall from the corner of your eyes from the intensity. You nod dumbly, entranced by him. His eyes are almost black, pupils dilated.

“My swe–sweet girl,” he groans,” so tight.”

“So good–i’m so– i’m so,” you stammer.

“I know, baby,” he coos,” you’ve been so good.” His thumb swipes through your folds, gathering your wetness and back up to strum your clit. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

He leans over you, pistoning his hips and rolling your clit with his slick thumb. Your vision blurs then electricity shoots up your spine again. Your mouth opens in a chorus of moans and whimpers. Vaguely, you hear Phillip praise you that’s it, come for me baby, my pretty girl.

He finishes soon after, falling on top of you and burying his head in your neck while he fucks you sloppy through your aftershocks. You feel spurts of warmth as he comes inside of you, marking you. You hear his groans and slight whimpers in your ear while his hips jerk and twitch.

You’re exhausted, body deliciously aching and limp. Your eyes droop as you feel the pull of sleep almost take you. Phillip groans as he leans back, pulling out slowly. You feel the drip of his come slide out of land on the sheets. Phillip uses his fingers to push some of it back in.

“There,” he whispers,” back to where it belongs.”

You roll your eyes but Phillip catches you, slapping your inner thigh. You giggle as he stands, watching while he walks into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth. He cleans the mess on your inner thighs then cleans himself.

“Take a nap with me,” you plead.

“Tempting, but have you eaten?”

You blink, realizing you were in the process of making breakfast before he arrived.

“Eat first, nap later,” he commands, walking to your drawer and pulling out one of your sweaters, linen pants, and thick socks.

Once you’re dressed, he has you wait on the bed while he goes back to his room to change into new clothes. You walk down the stairs together, you, a little more slowly from the ache between your thighs. You push his shoulder as you see him smirk, only slightly annoyed by him.

After breakfast you fall asleep on the living room floor, Phillip setting up the fireplace and placing a mountain of blankets in front of it. You wake a while later, feeling lax but surprisingly energized. You walk into the kitchen, noticing the sun setting from the window.

“I think today is New Year’s Eve, doll,” Phillip says behind you.

You check your phone while Phillip rubs the sleep from his eyes, noticing that it is in fact New Year’s Eve. The days got away from me, you think, leaning into Phillip’s embrace, in the best way possible.

“Will you help me make hot chocolate?” you ask. “I want to try again with the recipe.”

“As long as you teach me how to make snickerdoodle cookies,” Phillip agrees, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Deal.”

By the time both tasks are finished, you and Phillip find yourselves in the back patio, wrapped in blankets with two cups of delicious hot chocolate and a plate of snickerdoodle cookies. The clock strikes midnight and fireworks light up the sky, Phillip gently grasping your chin while he gives you a New Year's kiss.

if you enjoy my work, leave a comment, reblog, or like! thank you for the support, love you! 💖🧚🏼‍♀️💖

#phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #shadowlali

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iraprince · 11 months

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I love the entire concept of Cookie... the look, the fashion, the gender... Would you mind telling us a little more about him? I'm also intrigued about why she's named Cooking with Gorgeous!

HI i would LOVE to talk about george thank you so much. also this makes me realize i've never actually sat down and just made a post unabashedly infodumping at length abt an oc before and it seems silly that i haven't. i ask only for all dear readers to please temper their expectations for this post with the knowledge that i just smoked half a joint before sitting down to answer it. a small one. but still. anyway

FIRST OF ALL FOR THE UNACQUAINTED THIS IS COOKING WITH GORGEOUS, aka cookie or george for short. he uses he/him and she/her pronouns interchangeably!

hi sorry that's not cookie that's a horse in a bridal veil that i. found in my stuff while trying to scroll and find my cookie art. i just got distracted and had to show you. okay no for real here's cookie

he's the character i'm playing in a playtest campaign of the absolutely mesmerizing sapphicworld, an in-development ttrpg!!! and if i'm going to be talking about cookie i feel like i HAVE to say i think a huge amount of her charm and dazzle and charisma comes directly from the charm and dazzle and charisma of the setting i created her for. i know i am laying it on really thick right now but that is on purpose. i want, desperately and unashamedly, for this game to get really popular bc 1. it's genuinely that good. and it's not even DONE yet and 2. i want everyone to get into it so that everyone will make sapphicworld characters and then i'll get to see everyone's sapphicworld characters.

EDIT i'm scrolling back up here and adding a readmore bc this is already getting so long lol. you asked for "a little more" and apparently i have graciously decided this means "literally every fact about cookie that exists in my brain"

SO a lot of the info/tidbits i haven't shared about cookie are i guess gameplay-specific stuff... his title (which is like a class/playbook) is "The Noble Sweetheart," though in sapphicworld "nobility" no longer has anything to do with wealth or class, and is instead entirely about amassing a court purely via devotion/popularity; her subculture (which is like, Who You Hang Out With; drifters, goths, poets, debauchers, cowpokes, etc) is Babe; and her kind (which is like ancestries but in sapphicworld is really just like, a physical form, which u can change more or less at will) is Lunarthrope, which is basically a werewolf!! or more broadly a furry, since u always look like whatever were-animal you are 24/7. just MORE at night, tho i suppose i don't represent that aspect much in my cookie art... ANYWAY i am restraining myself from just sitting here and like. transcribing her entire character sheet. but basically what all this means is that cookie's role in the world (at least at the beginning of the campaign) is "Professionally — no, VOCATIONALLY Hot Person who everyone loves so so so so so so much." cookie really enjoys this role.

he's named cooking with gorgeous because he's an avid cook, and he wants to share that with you, and he's gorgeous!! though honestly the cooking hasn't ended up as important to his character as it was when i first came up with him, lol — but my initial concept was kind of like, what's the equivalent of a bouncy normie recipe blogger/lifestyle influencer but in the context of the lush horny trans deathless psychedelic universe of sapphicworld. and it's cooking with gorgeous, a doggirl dyke with big blue boobs (six of them!!) who is so devastatingly cute and darling that a bunch of people just kind of pledge their fealty to him for no real reason other than he feeds them. and is cute

also her name is def influenced by the fantastic names of many canon sapphicworld npcs! like, quick example list of some npc names off the top of my head: the booty commie, death cybernetic, princess eureka!, the culinary goof (whom cookie dislikes. btw.), pizza friday (whom cookie loves!!!)

cookie is very very determined, and she's ALMOST always very confident. even when she isn't feeling confident, she's still very good at forcing herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other — maybe just while screaming or crying or uncontrollably barking or at least very ardently complaining. he has a tendency to be spoiled and, like, tactless-via-obliviousness, so sometimes he can be grating to interact with, and he has a petty/vindictive streak; but in general he's an AGGRESSIVELY kind person and usually aims all his shrill, cheerful stubbornness directly toward the goal of refusing to accept anything but the best for everyone.

at the beginning of our campaign cookie has JUST received a brand new castle!!!! (chateau gorgeous.) which he doesn't actually "own" bc, remember, no wealth or class in sapphicworld, but he's the ENTHUSIASTIC new caretaker and is chomping at the bit to renovate it so ppl can live there and he can throw a bunch of magnificent parties and basically continue living exactly as he has been, But Even More Fabulous. obviously this is exactly when the main plot threat of the campaign shows up and spoils everything and compels cookie to go on his First Ever Adventure!!!!!! she HAS to save the world otherwise NOBODY will be able to go to the first big party at chateau gorgeous :((((

at this point to prevent myself from just like, giving you guys a play by play of the entire campaign so far i am going to just start listing every cookie fact i can think of as bullet points

🎀 he owns a magical sword in the shape of a giant microplane. it's called The Microplane. he pronounces this "mee-crow-plah-nay"

🎀 george desperately wants to resurrect The Dog-Lich, an entity that once ruled over all beasts from its palace on the moon but was murdered and torn to pieces in a cosmic war far in the past. her attitude towards this desire is 50% devoted lunar cultist, 50% parasocially obsessive twitter stan

🎀 this isn't really a cookie fact but going back to how his title is The Noble Sweetheart — just for a glimpse at party composition, his fellow party members' titles are The Intimate Scholar, The Tentacle Advocate, and The Tw*nk Controversial (the * is the canon spelling).

^ aforementioned tw*nk. its name is Mwah ("pronounced like the kiss you blow at someone you just fucked over"). mwah is played by @/squiddelyfather on twitter!

🎀 mwah and cookie used to be very, very tight, BEFORE mwah became the tw*nk controversial. now that it's so.... you know.... controversial, well. they're still very close, but it has gotten a little stilted and weird (and watching them slowly un-weird it together as the campaign goes on has been one of my fav roleplay experiences ever honestly)

🎀 cookie's other adventuremates, skarligge and delaryn, are both very indulgent towards him. delaryn acts the most grumpy/dismissive about it but is honestly sometimes the worst about spoiling cookie out of anyone in the party (skarligge's player is twt@/clown_dream and delaryn's is twt@/glaiveguisarme and hey while im at it our fantastic gm is the sapphicworld dev, twt@/ddemoneclipse. hi guys i hope u don't mind me chattering abt ur ocs here lol it's just hard to talk abt the best of cookie w/o bringing up everyone else's characters and roleplay also!!!)

🎀 cookie is very VERY sensitive and will burst into tears at the drop of a hat. the precursor to this is her eyes getting So So So Big And Wet And Round. one of my favorite bits to menace the other party members with is when something is not going cookie's way i will lean into my mic and say "cookie's eyes are getting so so so big. they're getting so big and wet and round and shiny. they're so so round and fucking big her eyes are like big wet black glass marbles" and this is like kryptonite to them. this is like getting hit with deadly radiation

🎀 oh speaking of fashion!!!! one of cookie's perks from being a Babe is that she can always change her look whenever she wants. she will ALWAYS have whatever outfit she needs and can quickchange instantly. wait this reminds me i have a bunch of seasonal holiday outfits sketched out and i don't think i've ever posted them here but it'll only let me put one more image in this post. well here have this one

🎀 okay well suddenly i have forgotten all other george facts so that's all for now!!! from now on i will try to just dump oc facts like this more often tho this is really fun. ty for getting me going lol!!!

#my ocs #my art #cooking with gorgeous #sapphicworld

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antimatterz · 10 months

Note

I really love, love, love your self-aware posts 🙃 That one with Bladie, was perfect!!! (I don't know if sending an request again that soon is okay, but i got another idea!) [After looking at your rules again, i am unsure if this request is okay with u. So i understand, if u refuse]

Listen. What if, Blade and Dan Heng would have some kind of rivalry, while they are in the same team. Like, actually trying to show off who is cooler and stuff.

But after seeing their competition, u just tell them, they are both wonderful and strong boys. (I know their heart would melt at that, hehe)

- Anon K🤪

solve what seems unsolveable

dan heng + blade x gn!reader

summary: it's a well-known fact that blade and dan heng cannot stand each other, but as someone who loves them both, you try to create peace.

cw: humor, fluff, rivalry, self-aware au

enyo's note: it's never to soon to request again, don't worry ! this was super fun to write hehe so thanks for sending this in ^^.

content under the cut | masterlist

these two already have a history together, resulting in quite some tension between them. now, it would be easy to avoid conflict; just don't put them on the same team, bringing their interactions to a minimum.

the catch? they both happen to be your favorite characters and you refuse to have only one of them on your team.

of course you know about their rivalry. it's so obvious. it can't be missed. the glares, the way blade keeps trying to provoke dan heng (and the always so calm dan heng. genuinely looks like he's about to snap), the way they refuse to cooperate in battle.

they're both so strong, equipped with your best relics and all, so together with your healer and shielder your team should be pretty much invincible right?

well, sike, it isn't. far from, actually.

your team is completely out of harmony, as the continuous tension affects the others as well. the rivalry is getting on everyone's nerves, making them irritable and out-of-focus.

it gets to a point where they beg you to kick either one of them from your team, preferably blade because he's the detonater while dan heng just tries to avoid conflict.

but eventually even dan heng snaps, giving in to blade's near-bullying.

something new starts, something that leaves you astounded.

instead of continuously going for each other's throat, they're now trying to prove to you who's the best by showing off big-time.

huge numbers of damage fly across your screen as they each try to prove their worth. with each strike, they surpass each other's damage and you can't help but stare at your screen in awe.

even the rest of your team stands back, watching in utter amazement how blade and dan heng mercilessly assault and defeat boss after boss, hitting insane numbers you've never seen before.

they're getting reckless, though, and it's getting out of hand. their health bars are glowing red since they don't leave any gaps for your shielder and healer to step in.

you know you have to intervene now.

you finalize the battle using the pause button and both dan heng and blade look at you in a daze, confused by the sudden interruption of the intense battle that had them completely immersed.

you lead them away from their teammates because it's about time you have a good talk with them.

"guys, this isn't working," you sigh.

they feel a little ashamed as they see the disappointment on your face, but they still refuse to look at each other. especially dan heng looks so done, having his arms crossed and all. so petty, hehe.

"look, you're both my favorite characters and i love you both so much. there really is no need to prove yourself, nor is there any reason to fight. you're both wonderful and strong and i don't want to feel like i have to choose between you two."

your words surely have their impact on them, especially when you pout at them through the screen. in the heat of their rivalry, they totally forgot to take into consideration how you felt.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i was blinded," dan heng mutters.

"you're confessing to us both? spicy," blade smirks, but his slight blush is so obvious lol.

"please try to work together, okay? you'd be unstoppable."

"anything for you, babe," blade grins, and now it's your turn to blush. okay, he still sounds a little hesitant, but it's a start.

"for you, y/n," dan heng agrees with a small sigh.

an idea pops up in your mind, and you smile.

"okay, and now hug each other," you pipe up.

"what?!" blade and dan heng ask in unison.

"you heard me," you giggle. "everything for me, right?"

much to your surprise, they actually oblige, awkwardly inching closer to each other before hugging aversively. the dismay is so obvious, but they're hugging without chocking each other or beating each other to pulp!

smiling widely, you hug your screen, engaging in some sort of interdimensional group hug. you sincerely hope this is the beginning of a new era, one in which your faves could put their rivalry aside and work together, carrying you through the game with ease.

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maxwellatoms · 1 year

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I would love your full thoughts on the AI debate. I think it can become a very useful tool for artists but that’s my non artists opinion

A few months back, I was telling my partner how the AI-generated art at this moment in time reminds me of the works of the Surrealists. The Surrealists were big on drawing from dreams and the subconscious, and came up with a bunch of games and exercises designed to stimulate creativity by divorcing your conscious mind from the artistic process. I said that so far humanity hadn't created a conscious AI, but I wondered aloud if we hadn't created a subconscious AI. I guess that's why some of these programs have names like "Deep Dream" and "Dall-E".

My partner said, "You're so high right now." And I was. But I still think that we created something, and it's dreaming. And it's very much listening to what we're whispering in its ear.

The problem some people have with AI-generated art is that it steals art from actual living and dead human artists in order to create its works. It's considered poor taste among humans to steal someone's artwork and present it as your own. But we are allowed to collage and to nip around the edges of copyrights until we can find something we're actually allowed to do. So it seems like a grey area.

The real problem though, is that it absolutely will steal your jorb. And my jorb. I can definitely see a not-too-distant future where anyone will be able to sit down and spend a couple of days crafting their own full-length motion picture with AI assistance, and have it look as good as or better than anything we've got today. Not everyone is a storyteller, but I think it'll really open up the field for almost anyone to try. The next Stephen Spielberg could be just some sixteen year old kid on the internet, and I think that scares a lot of employed artists. Because even employed artists are just sort of barely employed.

In the end, it just sort of seems like one of those things (there are so many!) that you just can't do anything about. Studios are always looking to pinch pennies, and there's no way the biggies aren't funding research into this stuff. The really dark times will be when the studios have the tech and the public hasn't gotten its hands on it yet. Things are gonna get weird.

Artists are going to have to deal with AI the same way so many other industries will. More and more, I think it's the changes coming for society at large that people dread. We humans certainly don't seem to be very good at preparing for the inevitable.

In the short term, let it inspire you if you want. The way you might let a dream inspire you. Definitely don't claim it as your own work. Maybe every once in a while type in, "Thanks for all of the inspiration, AI. You're really cool." And then hope it remembers your kind words on Judgment Day.

🤷

#ai artwork #contraversy #surrealism

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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

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Summary: Y/N and Harry lose contact after many years and finally run into each other and he invites y/n to his listening party for his album, Fine Line and reconnect.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, oral, hair pulling, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

After breaking the news to Harry about my parents moving, I sat there in silence.

After a few moments he lays an arm over my shoulder and I look over at him, "I'm going to miss you y/n." He says with tears in his eyes.

I sniffle and nod, "I know, Harry. I'm going to miss you. I wish I could stay." I wipe my tears away with my sweatshirt sleeve.

"Everyone at the bakery is going to miss you, too." He rubs my shoulder, "We'll have to call each other every night."

I nod, "Just promise me one thing."

He nods, "Anything, y/n."

"Just follow your dreams of being a singer. Don't give up. I know you can make it." I lean in and kiss his cheek.

He smiles slightly, "I will. I'll get big and famous and I'll find you. I promise."

I get up and walk towards the door and Harry calls out my name. I turn and he walks over to me, "Promise me you'll travel the world like you've always wanted to do."

I nod, "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, Y/N."

And with a simple peck on the lips, I was gone. On a plane with my parents to a new life.

—— Years Later

"This is beautiful." I say tilting my head, "It definitely has a very strong story behind it, don't you think?" I turn to my friend. She tilts her head and nods, "Oh, it definitely does, y/n."

"Something about not knowing who you are and going through the ups and downs then coming out of absolute hell.. knowing who you are." I pause for a moment, my eyes going over every paint line.

"Wow. That's- I don't even know how to respond to that." She laughs slightly, "Are you okay?" I nod and smile, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Let's walk over here."

We walk over, looking around at the other paintings on the walls.

I walk over to this one paintings hanging up and it reminds me of someone. The feelings I'm getting from looking at this piece of art, is the same feeling I remember having when I said goodbye to Harry.

Like something important to you is being ripped away and you have absolutely no control over it.

I find myself smiling as I think of the times with Harry. At the bakery, goofing around in his living room, walking in the park, arguing over stupid stuff, and the first time he kissed me.

God, he was so nervous. It was so cute.

I zone out and go to turn and I bump into the back of someone, "Oh gosh. I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you there."

He slowly turns his head and my stomach drops.

"Harry?"

"Y/N?"

He immediately takes me into his arms and spins me around, "What are you doing here?"

I keep my arms around him, "I'm traveling the world." He laughs, "I can't- I ju- oh my god." He hugs me tighter.

We stand there, in the middle of the art gallery holding onto each other.

He steps back, keeping his hands on my shoulders, "Still as beautiful as ever." His words make me blush, "Harry." I look down and he pulls me into his chest again.

"What's going on here?" Jess asks walking over to me. I smile and step away but still keeping an arm around Harry's waist, "Jess.. this is Harry."

"As in.. the Harry?" Her mouth drops, "No way." She looks over at him, "She never stops talking about you, by the way."

I scoff, "No. I-"

"I never stop talking about her either, so it's okay." He rubs my back and I smile.

"This is straight out of a rom com, dude." Jess shakes her head, "This is crazy." I nod and look up at Harry, "I know. I know. What are you doing in Berlin?"

He keeps his eyes on me, "I'm hosting a, um, listening party for my second album."

I smile, "Second one already?."

"It sure is."

I lay my head on him, "I knew you could do it." He points to me, "I have her to thank. I didn't give up. I wanted to, trust me. But I promised her I wouldn't."

"This is fucking insane." Jess smiles, "I can't-" she shakes her head, "We need to go get coffee and you need to fill me in on the love of Harry and y/n."

She starts to walk to the exit.

"Do you have time to get coffee?" I ask Harry. He nods, "Of course I do." We follow Jess out the door and walk down the street to a little cafe.

——

"So yeah. That's the story of Harry and y/n." I say smiling over at Harry. He nods and sips his coffee, "It sure is."

"So, you told her you'd find her?" Jess asks pointing to me while looking at Harry. He nods, "I did." She points to Harry and looks at me, "And you promised him you'd travel the world?"

I nod, "Correct." She shakes her head and smiles, "Straight out of a rom com." She shakes her head and quickly sets her cup down, "So wait. He's the one who wrote that 'woman la-la-la-la-la wo-woman' song you like so much?"

"Yes, and he's the one who also wrote Kiwi. The one you like a lot."

"Ah. So you do listen to my music." Harry teases, "It's a great album, I know, I know.

I roll my eyes and laugh, "And now, you have your second album." I shake my head and smile at him, "I'm proud of you, Harry."

He smiles and looks over at Jess when she puts her hand up, "So you're hosting a what?" Jess asks drinking her coffee. He runs a hand through his hair, "A listening party. You guys should come. You'll get to hear my new album, Fine Line." He looks at me, "Will you come?"

I nod, "Of course, Harry." I lay a hand on his and his thumb gently rubs the back of my hand, "I won't miss it."

His phone goes off and he reaches into his sweater pocket to grab it, "I have to take this. I'll be right back." He winks at me and walks away.

"Your parents ripped you away from that?" Jess says lowly. I nod, "Yep. Didn't even give me a choice. Just.." I point my thumb into the air.

Harry walks back over, "That was someone from my team, I have to go and okay everything for tomorrow. If you give me your number, y/n, I can text you the details."

I take his phone and add my number, "I'll be expecting a text from you." I smile and hand him his phone back, "Of course you'll get one." He leans down and kisses my cheek, "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"You sure will." Jess says hitting the table, "See you Harry." She waves to him and nudges me as he walks away, "He's still in love with you."

I watch as he rounds the corner and disappears, "And I'm still in love with him."

——

I walk up to the doors with Jess by my side, "I'm so excited." She says pulling on the door, "I've never been to a listening party."

"Me either, so I'm sure this will be an experience." I walk in past her and make our way to where Harry told us to go.

"You made it!" Harry says jogging over to me, "Glad to see you." He wraps his arms around me, holding me until I lean back, "I'm glad to see you."

All I want is to kiss him right now.

He smiles and keeps me in arms reach as he starts to give his speech about his album. I watch as his eyes gleam with happiness and I can't help but smile the whole time.

He glances over at me every now and then and he smiles every time.

He finishes up his speech and walks over to me, "I'm so excited for you to hear this." He hands me a pair of head phones after putting a pair around his neck.

"I'm excited to hear it." I bite my lip and sit down, placing the headphones on my ears.

Harry sits across from me and shakes his head as he smiles.

I can't believe after all these years, I finally have Harry with me again, I promise I'm not letting him go this time.

A few song play that are upbeat and very catchy. The one that starts playing is slow. There's a piano playing. Harry's voice is slow and mellow to start then suddenly it hits me and I start to tear up. I quickly wipe my tears away and look up.

Harry tilts his head and gives me a thumbs up. I nod and smile. This song is kinda sad and it breaks my heart because he sings about what If he's not someone he doesn't want around or something. I'm not sure, it's a sad song to me.

I give Harry a pouty look and my eyes water.

"Falling?" He mouths to me.

I nod and he smiles, "it's okay."

The song ends and the next one is him calling himself an arrogant son of a bitch, and I can't help but giggle.

I glance over at him and he's looking around at everyone who came to listen to his music.

He looks so good in his striped shirt and sweater vest pulled over it. His hair slicked back and the way his chin rests on his hand.

I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts. I bite my lip and close my eyes, listening to the sound of Harry's voice - which doesn't help.

His voice is so sexy and genuine.

I take a quiet deep breathe and look up at him. He's watching me. God, I hope he didn't pick up on me checking him out.

I can feel my cheeks getting hotter as the thoughts get harder to fight off. As young teens, sex wasn't even thought about, I mean, it most likely would have happened but we're grown now and now Harry can probably throw me aro-

Stop it. Stop it.

I smile up at Harry and he smirks.

Shit.

He could read me like a book then, I'm sure he still can.

——

"Well?" He asks eagerly waiting to hear the feedback.

"Harry. That was... wow." Jess says making an explosion noise as she wiggles her fingers around her head.

"Falling made me tear up. But I think you saw that." I smile slightly and look down. He gives me a hug and leans down, "I saw a lot of things." He whispers lowly into my ear, "You're still an open book to me, y/n."

Well damn.

"Yeah- I-" I sigh, "You got me." I laugh and look up at him. He smiles and lightly drags his hand down my back, "We can talk about it over dinner, yeah?"

I nod, "Yes. Please." He smiles, "Okay. Just give me like an hour or two to meet and greet and then we can head back to my hotel." He winks and walks over to the group of people looking at his album.

"Did I hear you're going back to his hote!?" Jess whispers, "Giiirl." I shake my head, "Not like- no. For dinner."

"And dessert." She winks before walking away to look around. I sit back down in the seat and I can't help but smile. My thoughts running back to when Harry and I were together.

He comes over to check on me every now and then and finally it's time to go.

"Ready?" He asks slipping his jacket on. I nod, "Yes I am." I look over at Jess and she waves for me to go. Harry holds his hand out and I take it. He leads me outside and we get into a car.

"My hotel please." He tells the driver. He leans back and turns his body towards me, "So."

"So." I turn towards him.

"What did you really think of it?"

I smile, "Harry. You are amazing. That album.. I don't even have words to explain how good it was." He smiles, "Thank you. It really means a lot. I kept writing and writing and writing. I've wanted to reach out but I've been so busy with touring and-"

"Harry. You don't need to explain yourself to me." I lean up and lay a hand on his, "I understand. Life happened. We grew up."

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah we did." I see him bite his lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. He leans back and smiles, "I've been thinking of doing that since I seen you yesterday."

"Me too." I smile and bring him in for another kiss. This time our lips move in sync and his hands pull me closer to him. My hands slide up his arms and I lay one on the back of his neck.

"I've missed you." He whispers against my lips.

"I've missed you." I say. My eyes start to burn and I lean back and fan them, "Sorry. Sorry." He moves closer to me, "Hey, hey. It's okay."

I lay my head on his chest as he holds me against him. He's quiet for a few minutes before he chuckles.

"What?" I ask laughing with him. He drops his head so his lips are by my ear, "I've been thinking about doing other things, too."

I bite my lip and look up at him, "So have I." He traces my jaw line with his finger and rests it under my chin, "Like what?"

"We'll for starters." I look him up and down, "You look so good today. I mean you did yesterday too, but there's just something about how passionate you are about your music."

He leans in and kisses me again, "Can I show you how much I've missed you?" He kisses back my cheek and down my neck. I tilt my head and grip his bicep, "Mhm. Yes please."

"Your stop, Mr. Styles." The driver says. Harry pulls away, "Don't move." He gets out and walks up to the window, "Thank you."

He jogs around to my side and opens up my door. I get out and he takes my hand and we go straight up to his room.

He unlocks the door and pulls me in with him. He throws the key onto the table and cups my face with his hands, "I've thought about your beautiful face every. Single. Day. Since you left."

"I never stopped thinking about you, Harry. Not once." Our lips connect and it's heated and full of passion. He shrugs his coat off and I drop my bag, kicking my shoes off as we back up to the bed.

I lay down and Harry crawls on top of me, "I've thought about how we never really got to experience certain things."

He kisses down my neck and I gasp as his teeth sink into my delicate skin, "Like what?"

He drags a hand up my inner thigh, "Things like.." he brushes his nose against my cheek, "How you taste."

My breathe hitches in my throat, "Harry."

"How you'll feel against my body." He moves my shirt up and kisses my stomach. He looks up at me, "Do you want me to stop?"

I shake my head quickly, "No, no. Please no." I sit up and bring my sweater up over my head and toss it along side the bed, "Please, by all means keep going."

I lay back and lift my hips as he slides my down and off my legs. He slides his hands up my legs and grips my thighs, "If you want me to stop at any moment, let me know."

I nod and smile at him. He smirks and leans down, planting kisses up my thigh, alternating between each other. He gets closer to the center of my legs and I can feel his breathe.

"I've thought about having you under me. Moaning my name. He hooks his fingers into the band if my panties and starts to pull them down, "More times than I could count, y/n."

"I've wanted you. I've wanted you to have me. Take me. Use me in anyway you wanted." I bite my lip and spread my legs. His eyes flicker down, "Then that's just what I'll do."

He snakes his arms under my legs, my thighs resting against his shoulders.

I moan loudly as he licks between the folds of my pussy. I've craved the feeling of this.

"Fuck, y/n. You taste so fucking good." He pushes his face into me, his tongue going up and down and in and out. His nose rubbing against my clit, causing me to arch my back off the bed, "Harry.." I whimper, "That feels so-so good."

He moves up to suck me clit, his tongue lapping against it. I grab his hair and push his head closer to me.

I'm already ready to cum. I've wanted this for so long, so bad.

"F-fuck." I gasp and squeeze my thighs against his head. He still licks me up and down, eating me out like no tomorrow through my high.

He doesn't give up, he keeps going. And going. And going. Pushing me to the edge of another orgasm. My leg starts to shake as I pull him closer.

He leans his head up and looks up at me, "I can't wait to fuck you."

I let my leg fall off of his back and he crawls up, hovering over top of me. He leans down and kisses me. His tongue finding mine and he groans as I gently bite his lower lip.

He stands up and takes his shirt off, revealing his ever so perfect body that's full of tattoos. I bite my lip, admiring the way his muscles flex as he works on getting undressed.

He slips his boxers off and his hard cock instantly springs free. My eyes flicker down and a smirk grows on my lips.

"I wish we got to experience this before." He says crawling on the bed towards me. His body hovers over mine and I nod and brush hair from his forehead, "Me too."

He positions himself between my legs and rubs the tip of his cock against my pussy. I bite my lip and watch as he slides in.

My lips part and my eyes roll back. My fingers dig into his shoulder as I adjust to him.

"Worth the wait." Harry moans lowly. He tilts my head up and holds the back of my neck. He plants his lips on mine as he starts to slowly thrust.

His thrusts are slow and passionate, which feels even better because this feels so meaningful between us.

"Harry." I moan as I slide a hand up, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, "I love you."

He rests his forehead on mine, "I will always love you." He rests his head on my shoulder as he kisses my neck. His moans fill my ears as he holds me close to him.

He flips us over and wraps his arms around me. We're in a sitting position now which brings us closer. I wrap my arms around his neck as I start bouncing on his cock.

Our lips move in sync, moaning into each others mouths.

"Im so close, Harry." I whimper. I tilt my head back and he kisses and nips at my neck, "Mm." He moans, "Me too."

I start clenching around him which earns more moans from him, "Fuck." He groans sliding his hands down my back. He grips my hips and moves them with me.

I let out a loud moan, pushing my chest into his and clinging to him as my body falls into orgasm.

"Fuck, baby." He grunts and lifts my hips up, I can feel his cum land on my thighs and I can't help but giggle.

"What's so funny?" He asks turning his head. I lift my head up, "We would have been so awkward at this when we were younger."

He laughs and rolls me over to lay me down, "Yeah, I feel that you're right." He goes and grabs a towel and comes back to wipe me off.

"Stay the night?" He asks with a smile. I nod, "Only if we can get dinner now." He nods, "Of course." He walks over and sits down beside me. I curl up next to him, my head resting on his chest and I can hear his heart beat.

"I've missed this. I've missed you." I say tracing circles into his side. He wraps his arm tighter around me, "I'm not going anywhere without you."

I smile and listen to him order room service. After a few moments of just laying with each other, he sighs, "So I have a confession to make." Harry says twirling my hair in his fingers.

"What would that be?" I ask looking up at him. He smiles slightly and sighs, "Okay. I wasn't just at the museum because I liked the art."

"Oh?" I question.

He nods, "I watched your Instagram. I seen you were coming here, to Berlin.. and.." he looks down and smiles at me, "I told you I'd find you."

——

You can find part two here

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

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chloeangelic · 6 months

Text

hi - a little uncharacteristic moment for me but i want to give some encouragement to anyone who's starting out with writing fic + thank my own readers for sticking by me since the beginning. i've seen a lot of people recently saying that they feel like this platform is nothing but a big account circlejerk/popularity contest, and although i understand where they're coming from (i genuinely can't remember who all said it so please don't think i'm shading you if you did), i think it becomes a bit of a self fulfilling prophecy and might unintentionally hinder people from writing and posting cause they might think there's no way anyone will read their stuff if they don't immediately get a ton of traction.

i think many writers might fall into the trap of wanting accounts with large followings to interact, and feeling like they themselves are bad writers if they don't, so i want to remind everyone that readers are the ones who make up 99% of your notes and interactions. i had zero mutuals when i started out, and no other writers reblogged me for like two months - i had my readers who found me through the joel tags and they were the ones i focused on (and still do!) i owe my readers everything, they are the ones who let me develop my writing skills and they are the ones who encouraged me to keep going, so thank you all again 1223423412 times

if you're thinking about posting or writing, please do it! there are so many unique ideas we have yet to see and i promise that there's someone out there who will enjoy what you create. writers take breaks, get busy, etc, but there are always readers looking for new content, so there's no reason to feel like it's oversaturated here to the point of low visibility. if you want to do your own take on a trope, or write an original story with a pedro boy, or you want to do a spin on a character i've written - do it! someone is bound to enjoy it, and many readers don't even realize they've wanted a specific story until it was right in front of them. ok chloe out !!!

#tw discourse lmfao

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lampadarietto · 6 months

Note

hi!!1! i hope u are feeling good today ^w^ just a disclaimer before the actual request, can u give (space) after symbols? like:

i eat dog food today!it isnt so good, ngl ❌

i eat dog food today! it isnt so good, ngl ✅

u dont need to keep up w doing that, but i ask at least in my request. i have some reading difficulty so the space between the letter and the symbol makes reading easier to me. thanks!!1!

anyway- i wanted to ask for a platonic tadc one. jax, caine, ragatha, gangle, zooble, pomni and kinger x teen reader (im not sure if u are used to making multiple in one post, but u can choose just one or somes if u are struggling :3), the reader have a personality similar to a eeve, if u know what i mean. shes kind and caring, a bit energetic and fun-loving, she protects the other characters and give them some weird things she finds around, she smiles a lot and i imagine one trait of her appearance, it being she having a cardboard box in her head that shows her facial expressions by emoticons, like ">w<" and ":0" (u dont need to add that, i just thought its a fun concept to write about). bUT in the other hand... shes not so sweet. she is chaotic and not much as jax but she loves to tease others (like playfully fighting or being playfully mean but never crossing a boundary by doing so), shes stubborn to do things she dosent want to do and shes lazy, she is bold w her feelings and she have a bit of a short temper to some topics (even tho she dosent physically hurt anyone, she does create a beef w them and is sure to show it, by dirty looks and being passive agressive)

anyway, i dont think i have further ideas. so have fun!!1! u can deny this request if u want. its totally ok ^_^

Omg sorry about the symbol thing!!!

Also this is probably my fav request so far because im a big sucker for platonic requests so thank you!

this took like 3-4 hours to write help

₊ ⊹JAX

✰If you like pranking people, you're surely going to ask Jax for help.

✰he's like the pranking master there, just ask and he'll help you!!

✰definitely bullies you at first, kinda depends on how you look and act. Also endlessly bullies you because you're really young. Would not care that you're a 'teen', you're still a little child in his eyes.

✰You're short? im sure you won't mind if Jax puts his arm on your head!

✰Tall?? like, taller than Jax?? Hes gonna kick you behind the knee so you're shorter! (be ALWAYS on guard because this guy kicks hard even when he doesn't mean it)

✰You're like, happy all the time?? He would try to make you sad (as a joke)

✰If you're small, he IS going to throw you at things and maybe people too in certain occasions.

✰If you're arguing with someone, he just roots for you on default. He doesn't even care what it is about or with who you're arguing with, he's gonna trip the person you're arguing with either way (unless it's caine, that dude floats)

✰If you have a cardboard box as your head, he's surely drawing on it or putting stickers on it. Everyone would do that, sure. But his stickers are either offensive or just ugly (will act as if you stabbed him with a fork if you remove them)

✰If you've got long hair (or hair that you can tie up) he'd go like "let me tie your hair, it looks ugly" and pull on it as hard as he can (ultimately making you fall)

✰teaches you comebacks so you don't look like a 'loser' while arguing with someone (please don't use his comebacks they are really bad)

✰might let you see where he puts his keys to various places (like rooms and stuff, yours included somehow) but dont tell anyone or he's going to kick you into the sun

✰Personally, i give rocks i think are pretty to the people i care about. I draw a face on them, and bam here's the gift. If you do that too, but maybe with other objects, Jax is probably going to hit you with it atleast once (not too hard though)

✰If you tend to give lots of gift he's probably going to need a little corner of his room called 'gifts from ___'

✰Some gloinks came into his room once and stole some of the gifts from that corner. Jax never told you (he forgot to..)

✰Steals your food at the dinner table while bullying Gangle because he has nothing better to do

✰If you're in time out for any reason (like swearing too much) he's going to get you out of the punishment (he always fails bruh)

✰The only reason why he fails is that he's bad at coming up with an excuse because it's to get YOU out of trouble. It's easy when he's trying to get himself out of trouble and comes naturally, but it just doesn't with other people.

✰overall really annoying if he actually enjoys spending time with you, would recommend unless you're really irritable

₊ ⊹ZOOBLE

✰Zooble is really chill, they may even become your 'gossip buddie' if you'd like.

✰The fact that you're younger than them makes it easier (for them, at least.) since you can learn alot from them!

✰Pulls up to your door, rings the doorbell and when you open she goes "i HAVE to tell you about-" and just enters your room while he speaks(unless you don't want to, of course)

✰if you have a cardboard box head, they surely wrote 'zooble' on your carboard box and some insults somewhere (mainly for Jax)

✰laughs ALOT when you tease or straight up pick on people (especially Jax)

✰If you see one of his parts not in the place it's supposed to be, please put it in it's respective place! If you've become friends with zooble, they will surely trust you with things like putting back a body part if she doesn't notice it's in the wrong place!!

✰If you swear a lot, they'll probably laugh until Caine puts you in timeout (that's when she knows she's next)

✰If you ask nicely, they will try to find some (digital) nail polish and let you paint their nails (or them painting your nails, they don't mind either way.)

✰Almost chopped some of your hair off once while trying to do a cute hair style (the crab hand thing is really sharp. They didnt mean it!!!!)

✰flips you off on daily basis for random reasons and roll their eyes in the sassiest way possible

✰If you give them gifts, they'll act as if it's horrible but store it in his room later (he's NEVER telling you that)

✰Is grateful when you (try to) protect them from gloinks. Everytime Zooble is around, some gloinks are already there to just steal her body parts! Help her, do something please!

✰Overall very chill, would recommend unless you get offended easily

₊ ⊹CAINE

✰oh boy!!

✰the circus is a place for children. Finally a child or someone close to one!!!!

✰He's very excited. Makes you and the others (Zooble doesn't usually come though) go have adventures! you even got to choose once!!!

✰Again, if you wear a carboard box head he will sign it like hes a celebrity and write a something next to his signing. (his handwriting is really elegant too!)

✰Once made you look after Bubble while he was dealing with... some things and the whole circus was almost set on fire (all thanks to jax trying to see if Bubbles were flammable)

✰If you swear too much, you'll have to go in timeout!!!! (Zooble goes in timeout often)

✰Stores every single one of your gifts even if Jax says they're ugly

✰𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘚 your energy and attitude!

✰Very happy to see you enjoy your time here with the others.

✰If you're a picky eater or dont like the (digital) food chef Bubble cooks, hes surely going to make Bubble cook something of your choice!!

✰If you entered the circus when you were 10 years old or less, you probably had a bedtime before turning 12. If you were up past your bedtime, you were usually put in timeout!

✰Finds it funny that you tease people.

✰Overall much of a father figure if you've entered the circus when you were really young. (like from 7-11 years old)

₊ ⊹POMNI

✰Pomni was NOT expecting to find a kid in the circus.

✰Why aren't you trying to find a way out? You're young, get out of here and live a happy life!!

✰Other than than, Pomni is very shy and awkward at first.

✰She's not.. sure on what to say. To you, to everyone.

✰She's still trying to find a way out so she won't talk to you or anyone at first.

✰After some time, you speak more and more to her until she gets comfortable with you.

✰She chuckles when you tease people, sometimes.

✰will draw on your cardboard box head if you have on and write her name on it.

✰She often talks to you about the exit door, about the real world.

✰"Don't you want to go back?" she literally bombards you with questions of all kind..

✰Try to be friendly with her, please! She's still trying to get used to the circus and it's weird individuals... (ahem.Jax.)

✰i just KNOW that Jax tripped Pomni atleast once. Please don't let that happend..

✰(tries to) Keeps your gifts somewhere in her room, often loses some..

✰Overall really nice when you get to know her. Stutters alot when shes nervous and is still shocked.

₊ ⊹RAGATHA

✰a kid?? here?? Oh my.

✰She WILL tell you about everything you should know.

✰"Oh, be careful or you might-" "This is where we usually-" "don't! Its dangerous!"

✰She tries her best.

✰Shes always there for you! She tries to get you involved in activities, adventures and everything!

✰Writes a happy phrase on your cardboard box (if you have one) so that you're happy, even when not feeling like your best.

✰loves your gifts! Is a little weirded out at first but loves them alot! She keeps them in her room like trophys.

✰Will make your hair look very cute if you let her touch it. She will put bows, ribbons, every cute thing that she think might fit you.

✰Loves to have someone as nice as her (for the most part) and is glad that she's not the only one with a 'cheerful' attitude at the circus.

✰You can protect her if you want but be careful for random sharp things! Ragatha will be mad(not at you) if you accidentally get hurt while you try to protect her..

✰Shes honestly like a mother figure or an older figure you can count on.

✰Overall the nicest person at the circus, would recommend

₊ ⊹KINGER

✰He jumpscared you once.

✰Apologized right after, of course!

✰Kinger is a rather.. paranoid person. He doesn't get out of his impenetrable fortress unless someone needs him, and gets starled easily.

✰At first, he wasn't sure on what to think about you.

✰When you decided to gift him a little handmade insect collection, he immediately thanks you and invites you into his fortress.

✰You two had fun, and he said you could come in his fortress at any time, but to just warn him beforehand.

✰Stores every gift you give him. Could be an insect collection, rocks or handmade stuff. He doesn't care. He collects them.

✰He still jumpscares you (accidentaly) most of the times. He doesn't mean it!

✰He's super convinced that 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞 would've 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 you.

✰He wishes she was still here, just to show you off.

✰Would get amused when you tease people!

✰Please dont let the gloinks just steal his fortress!!!!

✰Overall pretty chill aside from the sudden jumpscares and random screams, would recommend

₊ ⊹GANGLE

✰would warm up to you pretty quickly.

✰Please comfort her when shes crying or when Jax breaks her comedy mask!!! :(

✰Almost always has her comedy mask when she's with you. Shes just so happy!

✰If you try to help her fix her mask, shes going to be really grateful.

✰Stores every one of your gifts.she Thinks they're beautiful!

✰Please teach her some comebacks so that shes not completely hopeless against Jax :(

✰Shes mostly kind to you, but Gangle is also a shy soul.

✰She's like a bigger sister to you.

✰She tries her best to be as happy as she can around you.

✰Overall really nice (but shy), would totally recommend unless you dont like people crying alot

#the amazing digital circus #x reader #tadc zooble #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc #tadc kinger #tadc caine #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha

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