#they finally got their rights. wahoo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clubdionysus · 29 days

Text

[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex

warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(

soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.

He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.

Jimin is yet to notice it.

You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.

And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.

Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.

Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.

Your lips are thin as you smile.

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.

He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.

"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.

They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.

He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.

"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.

Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.

He just nods, though. "Of course."

The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.

"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."

"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."

He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.

He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.

This is something different entirely.

He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."

You nod, as if you knew.

Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.

The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.

He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.

Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.

When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.

"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.

Makes you curious, too.

Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.

He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.

But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.

You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.

"I told you not to be mean!"

You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-

"These are action figures, Gguk."

"They're sculptures."

"Toys."

"Collectibles."

"Collectible toys."

He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.

"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"

And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.

It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.

"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.

"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.

A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.

"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.

His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.

"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.

You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.

Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.

He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.

You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.

"You make them?"

"Mhmm."

"They're pretty."

"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.

His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.

"No disco balls tonight?"

The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."

Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."

And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.

But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.

"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"

The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.

Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.

"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.

In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.

He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.

But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?

He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.

He's been in your position before.

Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.

And so he's kind, instead.

"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."

You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.

There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.

"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.

"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.

All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.

"You slept with him?"

Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.

A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.

Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.

You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.

God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.

You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.

Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.

Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.

"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.

"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."

"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.

"Didn't hurt me like that."

He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.

"You wanna talk about it?"

To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.

The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.

They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.

Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.

You'd worn them for Seokjin.

Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.

You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile.

Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.

They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.

But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.

His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."

Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."

And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.

His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.

You're broken, and it shows.

You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."

"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."

"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."

Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.

Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.

"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."

One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole..."

When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.

"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."

You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-

"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."

"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."

He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"

"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.

You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.

"You...?" He encourages.

"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"

You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.

"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.

Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.

"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."

You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.

"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."

By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.

Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.

He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.

And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.

But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"

"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.

Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.

And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."

You nod. "Fucking sucks."

He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.

He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.

"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."

Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."

"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."

And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.

"Did you at least... yanno?"

Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.

"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"

"That he's a cunt?"

"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."

You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.

You'll never admit to any of that, though.

Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.

"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.

"Me too."

He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.

"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."

You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"

"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"

You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.

And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.

He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."

There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.

"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."

And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."

He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.

But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.

Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.

You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.

You've cried enough.

And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.

It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.

"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"

"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."

"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"

"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.

"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."

"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."

You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.

At least, not a sleepover like this.

Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.

He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.

"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.

Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.

He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.

There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.

He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.

And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

#by holly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk #jungkook x reader #jeongguk fanfic #bangtan #jungkook fluff #bartender!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #jeongguk fic #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

88 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months

Text

Maybanks sister

Series masterlist , previous chapter

Taglist- @cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow

Part 2, Chapter 2- a not so fun sleepover

Summary: it is just your luck at this point. You and Kiara get caught by some weird people in the Barbados after finally getting off ‘poguelandia.’ You’re trapped with your psycho ex. Again. For a second time.

After what felt like a year, finally, someone had come to rescue you guys.

Now, you guys had been saved. You were thankful for whoever this dude was for picking you guys up, thankful to get off this damn island already.

“I got a little guide out in Saint Vincent. I was spotting fish.” He told you guys as you sat down in his plane.

“What were you spotting?” You asked the man, curious.

“You know, the usual. Wahoo.”

You quirked an eyebrow, JJ also seemed confused as he turned to you.

“Wahoo? In September?” You whispered to JJ. He had the same confused look.

“That doesn’t make sense.” He whispered back.

“I’d hang on to something. Gets a little spicy on takeoff.”

“Wahoo doesn’t run in September. Like ever.” You told them all quietly. “Kinda wish it did, cause then we’d have been eating it…” you trailed off. “It tastes so good.”

“Yeah. So whoever this dude is, he’s not a fisherman.” JJ spoke.

“Maybe the run just starts earlier out here.” Pope shrugged.

You tilted your head to the side. “In the carribean? Unlikely. They usually-“

“No, I know what this is. He’s working for my dad. And he’s probably been looking for us the entire time.” Sarah cut you off, everyone turning to her now.

“All right, we gotta find out.” JJ said. “Just gotta look for clues…”

You tapped on JJs shoulder, and pointed to a bag on the back of his seat.

“Hey, Jimmy.” John B spoke, distracting the man while JJ slowly reached for the bag, taking it and rummaging through everything. He opened a book and found a picture, a picture of the coastal venture.

He handed it to Sarah.

“So he was looking for us?” Cleo said.

“Exactly.”

“He’s working for my dad.”

“I say we all jump off.” You pointed down. The plane shook suddenly, you all grabbing on.

“Hey, yall better hold something we got some unexpected turbulence up here.”

“Guys, whatever it is, it’s happening fast. Look.”

Everyone looked out the window, seeing some land.

“That looks like Barbados. I’ve been there with Terrence.”

“Okay.. there’s 7 of us, one of him. You know my vote, we storm the cockpit.” Jj told everyone.

“Idiot. None of us know how to fly a damn plane.” You hit him in the arm.

“I’ve seen pope fly simulators.”

“Yeah, and I’ve flown the fucking Death Star on Lego Star Wars, doesn’t mean I can fly.” You shrugged.

“Well do you have an idea?” He turned to you.

“Something safe..?”

“Why don’t we just wait until the plane lands somewhere safe, and then we sneak out. And if someone comes to mess with us, we mad dog them.” Pope spoke.

“Yeah. I like that way better.” You nodded.

“I like the mad-dogging part.” Jj tilted his head.

“Just put that back. Put it back. Be cool.” Kiara told JJ, John B distracting him again so JJ could put the stuff back into the bag.

“I’ve been going since I was 18-“ he spoke, and heard a sudden noise. JJ had been caught.

“Hey man! What the hell are you doing?” He turned to JJ, slapping him away. “That’s mine! That’s my book, give it back!”

“Fly the plane! Please fly the plane. Please fly the plane.” Sarah said, the plane shaking. You were knocked straight into Cleo who helped you sit back up quickly.

The plane crashed into the water as he struggled to get it up. Everyone screaming as they fell into the back, you all piling on top of each other. The plane filled with water.

“Is everybody good?” You asked them, everyone coughing.

“Jj, wake up, man we gotta get out.” you helped him get up. John B shoved open the door, multiple people coming over.

“Oh no. They don’t look friendly.”

“No, they look very unfriendly!”

“We gotta go, come on.”

They all got out.

“Kie, go!” You told her.

“I’m coming. Go!”

“I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Guys, get out before it sinks!” JJ told you both. Kiara looked at you and back behind you, at the man sinking.

You groaned when she began to swim over, you following.

“Come on, you gotta hurry!”

They all shouted out you both. You helped Kiara get through the plane and unbuckled the man, helping her carry him through the window.

The others were all swimming now.

“Come on guys, hurry up! Hurry up!”

“We got you.” Kiara panted to him, the man unconscious as you both carried him to shore.

“Wait, where are they?” Jj asked, turning around.

“You guys, where the fuck are they?”

“They went the other way.”

You both brought him up to shore, Kiara coughing as you brought her close to you.

“Thank you.” The man told you both, awake now.

“You lied to us. Who are you?” Kiara asked, an Atv interrupting him.

“Oh God. You should get out of here.”

You stood up, helping Kiara up and both of you running away from the men.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” JJ mumbled, watching.

You both looked around, a car pulling up. You both hid by a boat, before getting caught.

“They’re over here!”

You punched a man square in the face who tried to grab Kiara, sweeping his leg and making him fall before another caught your arm. And another grabbing Kiara as you thrashed and screamed.

“Get off!” You shouted, they both dragged you guys into their trucks as you struggled.

“What… what are we gonna do?” JJ asked, teary eyes. “We’re going after them, right?”

“What… what can we do?” John B spoke.

“Where are they talking them?”

“They’re all right there, they’re looking this way we gotta go.” Cleo said and began to swam. The other followed but Jj stayed behind for a moment.

“JJ come on. We can’t save them if we get caught.”

“We lost the others. We’ll keep searching.” You heard a voice over the man’s radio.

Kiara stayed in the bed of the truck, you looked around for a moment before jumping out and before you could even tell her to get out, you were being shouted at.

You ran away, as far as you could. But that wasn’t very far before they caught you again, one of them punching you and knocking you down, your cheek falling right back onto the sand.

“Jesus, dude! I’m gonna have a black fucking eye!” You shouted, groaning as they threw you back into the truck.

“Worth a shot, I guess.” You shrugged when Kiara looked at you in shock.

The pilot came up to the truck.

“We saved your life.” Kiara whispered to him.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m gonna try to help you, okay? I swear, I didn’t know it was gonna be like this. Look, if you don’t fight, if you just do what they say, these guys probably… they probably won’t hurt you.”

“Probably?” You recoiled, making a face at him.

“What did Ward promise you?” Kiara asked.

“Who? Hey, just take my advice, do what they say. Good luck.”

The man got back in the truck.

“All right, let’s go.”

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Jesus, this dude is loaded.” You whispered to yourself when the truck drove up to the house. Kiara and you looked at each other worriedly as you were being walked in.

The house was huge, full of antiques and relics.

“Take them upstairs. The Orinoco room.” One women said, and you both were grabbed by the arm and dragged upstairs.

You shoved the dudes arm off you when you entered the room.

“Inside.”

“Why are we here? Who are you working for?”

“Dinner at eight. I’d clean up.”

“Just tell us what they want!-“ Kiara shouted, but the man shut the door in her face and the door locked.

“Great. This is fun. A little sleepover.”

Kiara looked out the window, and you looked at the dresses hanging up.

“At least they’ve got taste…?” You mumbled, flicking through the dresses. Two red dresses for each size.

“Pick your size.” The note read. You shrugged to yourself, grabbing one.

“Least it gets me out of these clothes.”

Later, the both of you were escorted downstairs.

“You know, this dress looks actually pretty good on me. Think they’ll let me keep it?” You asked Kiara when you walked downstairs, looking at yourself in a mirror.

“Why out of everyone to be stuck with did it have to be you?” She murmured.

“I’m offended. I think it’s a lot better than being struck with JJ. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

As you walked down and were directed into a room.

“Uh, excuse me?” Kiara said to a man, with a shaved head.

The man turned around, his eyes meeting yours first, his face falling.

“No, I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.” Kiara spoke, your mouth agape as you stared at him as in shock.

“What are you talking about? You guys trying to weasel in on my deal? Is that what’s going on?” He walked towards Kiara.

“No fucking way!” You shouted, turning on your heels, holding your hands up and beginning to walk out before a guard manhandled you inside, throwing you onto the floor. “Goddamnit!” You huffed.

“Is there like any other room I can be in? Specifically without him?” You asked the guard, before he slammed the door in your face.

“Seriously?” Rafe started. “You’re so fucking imm-“

“Yes, seriously! Last time I saw you was months ago, and you held a gun to my head and a knife to my throat! How am I immature?” You pointed at him, standing up and getting closer to him, shouting in his face now.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A man said. All of you turning to him now. He chuckled and turned.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked the man.

“Me? My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron. And Ms. Carrera and l/n, I do apologize for the rough tactics of bringing you here.”

He turned his gaze to you.

“And I heard you’re a fighter. And a runner. Roughed up a few of my guys.” He chuckled. “All is forgiven. Please, come.” He motioned to the other room.

Kiara looked back at you.

“Sit down.”

Rafe looked at Kiara and at you, you sneered at him and walked behind Kiara, your arms crossed as you sat down on a chair.

“Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe asked the man.

“Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses. But, the ends justify the means, I’m afraid. Sit. Please.”

Rafe sat on a chair next to you, while you scooted over as far as you possibly could. He exhaled as he looked at you and back at the man.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, fucking right we do.” You scoffed, leaning back in the chair.

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Hey. Hey!” He shouted, hanging on the closed door and messing with the doorknob.

“Oh my God, yeah I’m gonna lock myself in the bathroom, do not disturb me.” You murmured as the man shut the door, Kiara grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

“If I have to deal with him, so do you.”

You groaned. “It’s locked, you dumbass.” You told him when he tried to continue to get it open. Kiara and you walked towards the window, he followed.

“Get off me, man!” Portis shouted.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Rafe asked, watching the man be dragged.

“We know him. It’s Jimmy Portis. He was trying to help us.” Kiara whispered. Singh looked at the window, pulling out a gun.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe spoke, the man dissapearing in the back. All you could hear was the gun firing.

Rafe swallowed, Kiara panted, your mouth hung open in shock.

“This diary. Hey, no bullshit.” He turned to you, “don’t bullshit me. Do you guys have it?”

“I don’t know anything about a damn diary!” You told him. “You sure you don’t?”

“I think I would know if I fucking-“ he started.

“Kie?” You turned to her, voice hopeful. She shook her head.

“No.”

“Well, it’s official. We’re all dying together.” You said with a groan, running a hand over your face.

“Nobodies dying.” Rafe said, glancing at you.

“Yeah? What’s your bright idea then, buzz?” You asked, your arms crossed.

Ouch, went straight for the haircut.

#rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx series #rafe obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x reader

74 notes · View notes

golvio · 8 months

Text

Still thinking about the stark contrast between the general grim, highly-restrained stoicism of TotK Ganondorf’s human form compared to the exaggerated, rapidly shifting moods of “Yippee! :D Whee!! :DD Wahoo!!! :DDD *does a cute little backflip*” and “YOU STOP RUINING MY FUN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL THROW A BIG DIVO TEMPER TANTRUM AND WRECK EVERYTHING!” of his Demon King form.

Guy’s pretty obviously repressed as hell, and I think that’s one of the reasons he always goes off the rails the second he gets a chance to step out of his ceremonial One Special Man role. However, the fact that what he’s repressing feels so…childish, even the violent parts…I’m wondering if the guy ever got the chance to be a child when he was actually little.

Maybe he got yelled at and punished for making simple inexperienced baby mistakes the way Zelda was because he was under similar pressure to Fix Everything and symbolically parent all his adult subjects/family members as a Symbol of Hope that could soothe their fears and anxieties on-demand. (Not to mention Buliara’s mom raised a bit of a red flag about authoritarian parenting styles being common in Gerudo military families). Only instead of just suppressing everything and standing perfectly still and quiet in public while floundering in private like Zelda did, he got extremely skilled at convincing the people around him he was the mature, unflappable, strong, comforting, and eternally available collective cultural father-figure who’d guide them out of the hard times they were trying to hammer him into.

Only…that wasn’t real personal development, only the illusion of development. He encased his true personality in the superficial shell of the sexy manly-man hero that everyone wanted him to be. The second he was able to emerge from that shell without anyone being able to punish him for it, that inner traumatized little jerk immediately started lashing out in revenge at the people who held him to such an impossible standard in an effort to finally feel in control of his own life. It’s like a former child star melting down upon entering adulthood after being denied agency and independence by the studio they’re contracted with and their financially profiting family for so long, only with magic and the forsaking of one’s own humanity involved.

That underlying theme of metamorphosis throughout the game, echoed in Kotlin’s “dream,” could’ve been capitalized on here. The people loved the shiny gold cocoon the weak, helpless larva formed, begging it to never emerge so they could enjoy its beauty forever. But he knows, he knows that if he never breaks open the shell encasing him, he’ll die before he ever gets the chance to unfurl his wings. The form they love is incomplete, shallow, temporary. He’ll die if he can’t discard it. He would rather be alive and horrible to behold than dead and perfect. The people will hate what emerges from their jewel, but in this new shape he can sting and bite back, so let them hate him.

But, also, just…could you imagine if we had a chance to meet The Cocoon and the people who worshipped it, saying how much they love their king while knowing absolutely nothing about him, only to find out he had his own “secret sanctuary” much like Zelda did? Somewhere we could glimpse the soft, hungry insect of his soul that yearned to break free? What we’d see in the pieces of his secret joys scattered around and the scratches of his notes would be something ugly, bitter, childishly self-centered, yes. But in there would also be real passion, real feeling, a real life desperate to finally live that would make the handsome shell brandishing a sword feel hollow, uncanny, and downright off-putting by comparison.

#loz thoughts #totk spoilers #ganondorf #caps warning #gettin’ real speculative here #i doubt nintendo put THAT much thought into this guy #but it’s still a possibility that intrigues me

160 notes · View notes

fran-in-the-deep · 7 months

Note

maybe if u wanna do this request i was thinking right. high school au with hange where they’re super geeky, and reader is popular but was nice to them and reader wants to ask hange to prom! i was thinking it could be a little angsty because maybe they would think it was a prank but they go together in the end >_<

also if u don’t want it to be a highschool au it could be like a college party maybe! i love ur work btw <33

A/N: First of all, thank you so much, this is such a cute request and because it got so long I didn't even get to the party part, I might have to write a second part for that. Then obviously sorry for taking so long, but I still hope you have a good time reading it! I decided on the Collage AU because where I'm from we don't really have an event that has so much significance like a prom and Collage AUs are just my passion now I guess.

1,3k words | Collage AU | mainly fluff, a little angsty | just two idiots in love

Wait, really?

You stood outside, back against the white concrete wall of the building E where the natural sciences where located. A flyer whose aesthetics screamed graphic design is my passion by the way the green letters for End of Semester Party have been printed onto the orange background, the cheap paper already starting to disintegrate in your grasp. Maybe your hands were sweating because you were nervous, maybe because it was the middle of July and you had been standing in the midday sun for about half an hour by now, contemplating about a matter that had nothing left to be contemplated about.

The decision to ask Hange out had already been made weeks ago and every day you spend an hour over lunch with them and the occasional text had you received when the Marine Biology major had found another paper about some weird species with a long latin name, you scrambled for a good occasion to finally ask them out. The problem was just that all of their interests, as much as you adored them and were fascinated, were way out of your comfort zone and you really didn’t want to embarrass yourself on what could be a first date. But then you didn’t want to pressure them into anything they wouldn’t be comfortable with either. You weren’t exactly in the same social circles after all.

Like, you could just go somewhere and people would know you, there was always someone to talk to and that worked out just well for you but-

“Heyyy! Are you heading to the cafeteria as well? We’ll have to hurry up if we still want to find some good seats.”

As you whipped your head around, Hange was leaning against the wall next to you, wearing a t-shirt with a long fish captioned Wahoo (Acanthocybium solandri). You had no idea what this meant, nor how you did not hear them approach you, nor how the hell you were supposed to ask them now. So you didn’t.

“Sure, I was just waiting for you actually.” Well, that was true at least.

“Let’s hurry, I think they have pizza on the menu today.”

Hange waited for you to join them on the way, all too happy to tell you about their shirt. Wahoo was a real fish apparently that often was confused with mackerels or barracudas, but the name was funny.

Over lunch they asked you about your day, letting your rant about how bad group works were and then told you about that paper on this newly discovered sponge they read the last night, but in terms a normal person could actually understand. And when you asked about the other sponge paper you tried and failed reading after they send it to you, their eyes were just sparkling and they were brimming with excitement and it was just so infectious. You had never seen anyone be so happy about a sponge they wouldn’t ever get to see in real life. Just, how were you not supposed to have at least a crush on them?

Hange with their funny patterned shirts for every occasion, who was so unashamedly themselves and passionate about the things they loved while never hesitating to share this enthusiasm and passion with others.

So on the way back to the train station you finally whipped out the flyer as if it was sword to fight this battle with. Just that a crumpled piece of paper wasn’t exactly sharp enough to stand against the absolute boulder of how badly prepared you felt for this. It wasn’t like you to be that nervous. Although apparently now it was.

“Have you heard of the End of Semester Party? The student councils of the different faculties coordinated it together and every faculty will also have booths and games and stuff. So it’s not just about getting drunk or anything. I thought you’d like that, so I wanted to ask whether you wanted to go there with me?”

You felt like you sounded like an 80s teleshopping segment, all that was missing was a look at the camera and listing of the phone number to call to order the absolutely legit product.

“Wait, you mean like a date? You’re not serious, are you?” Hange laughed nervously, averting their gaze.

They thought you weren’t serious. The realization hit you like a cold bucket of water. Or the boulder, or maybe the bucket had this Wahoo fish in it, whatever nonsensical metaphor would be the most appropriate to describe a verbal slap to the face.

Was it because they wouldn’t consider you as someone to go out with? But then they would have just said no, or something nicer to reject you, they didn’t even have to bring up the date. Did they think it was some kind of prank? The kind of things that were always pulled off in highschool? Maybe Hange had bad experiences with that. People were assholes after all.

But Hange was the last person who deserved to be treated like that. Damn it, they deserved all the love and appreciation and being asked out, even if they would end up turning you down. You would deal with this somehow.

“Yes, I’m serious. A date on that party, you, me. I thought we could participate in those games as a team or so. Of course you don’t have to say yes.” At this point you were flailing around with your hands, or at least it felt like it. It felt awkward to show so much vulnerability first, but then, maybe it was the right thing to do. Hanges eyes widened slightly.

“Wait, does that mean you’re asking me out right now?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean.” After this you would be the most confident person in the world, because how the hell would you be able to keep talking now otherwise.

Hange covered their face with their hands. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry. I screwed this up so bad.”

“What? No no, don’t be. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” Some beats of silence, or maybe it was your heart not beating, you were unsure. “If you want, you can think about it for a while. Don’t feel pressured or anything, it’s all good. I just hope we can stay friends.”

“Yeah, of course- I mean, we can stay friends. Ah no, I mean- I’d like to go to that party with you. On like the- the date. The date. With you. You and me. On that date. On that party.” Now Hange was flailing.

“Wait really?” You had this whole communication thing down, definitely. But then, being nervous should be okay. Considering Hange was just as much of a mess as you were.

“Yeah, really. I just didn’t think you’d ask me out. I mean I guess I haven’t really been asked out before? And then you’re so popular and I thought you already were in a relationship… seems like I was overthinking again.”

Hange just gave you the sweetest smile in the entire world as their tension eased and even let out this little laugh that you adored so much and if you weren’t smiling like some love struck idiot yourself you would be surprised. They had agreed and the happiness made you feel all fuzzy and happy and it was perfect despite the awkwardness, because it was just you and them.

“Not only you. But at least now we can be overthinking together. And you really need to tell me where you get those shirts from.”

So that’s what it was, a party, a date. Hange and you.

------------------------------------

A/N: Hange's shirt this time was presented by the following meme from my fish meme folder:

#hange zoe #hange zoe x reader #aot fluff #hange x reader #hange fluff #hanji zoe x reader #hanji zoe #requests #fran-fiction writing

98 notes · View notes

rosy-fox-art · 2 months

Text

God, I love toxic yaoi /j

In more seriousness, yes! I have finally updated my clef and Kondraki designs wahoo!

Design notes under the cut

Kondraki

- I feel like he’s stubborn enough to refuse to wear a lab-coat, but got pestered by senior staff going ‘ ok but we need a way to identify you on sight) so he went ‘ OK FINE’ and made most of the patches on the right side out of spite [ there’s one with the logo, his name, his clearance level].

- The patch on the left side looks like this. It was actually made for him by Dr. Glass. Yknow. Back when he used to actually go to therapy 💀 [he was mandated]:

- He has one earring on his left side… which takes me intooo

Clef

- He has the matching earring on his left side. This is purposeful. The day that one of them has both earrings in my art is the day you know the other has died….

- On one hand there is a ring with an apple on it, and on the other is a ring with a snake pattern as a reference to the whole ‘ clef is the devil’ thing

- Trebel clef tattooed on the inside of one arm

- Yes, yes the bedazzled sandals with the socks were necessary.

- ideally, the drop shadow on his face would shift and consume more of him based on the emotional intensity of whatever scene I’m drawing him for.

- most people cannot tell if the antlers are real or just part of his hat which I think is a testament to how little he takes it off.

#scp doctors #dr. clef #dr alto clef #scp fanart #scp foundation #dr kondraki #benjamin kondraki #chatacterdesign #clefdraki #fanart #art #doodle #these stupid old men

53 notes · View notes

tianhai03 · 11 months

Note

You've mentioned before that Dante is uncomfortable with his demonic heritage, do you want to talk about that?

should probably start off by showing where exactly we see his feelings abt being half demon, so here's where i got that from (this is from pg 249 of before the nightmare, the dmc5 prequel novel. you can find a pdf of it here):

there are other instances in the series where we get hints of him being uncomfortable abt his own demonic heritage, but afaik this is the most In Your Face one. it literally says right there. "he was sick of turning into something else."

it took dante a long, LONG time to get comfortable with his own powers. he probably didnt feel comfortable with it until he got his SDT in dmc5, because this was from his first encounter with urizen. he's been living with his demonic blood that gave him powers, the same power that saved his and many other people's lives, ever since he was born, and yet he was never comfortable with it. i think a lot of people forget abt that very often.

people only see dante when hes the wacky wahoo pizza man, because he rarely ever lets others see the real him; the dante who is probably so sick of the demonic blood running through his own veins he hated seeing himself, let alone his demonic form. i'm sure throughout his life he wished he was just some normal guy very often. it's exhausting having to constantly try to hide yourself from everyone else.

but hey! everything's fine and good now because he found his family again in 5, he finally learned how to accept both his human AND demonic blood as parts of himself (and got a cool new demon form out of it), and he's now on his way to kicking more demon ass with his brother while they fix their relationship. life's finally starting to look good for dante and i'm sure he's happier now :)

#allyanswers #Anonymous #ask #i considered talking abt how all of this is the reason why dante is very transgender coded to me but thats a topic for another post i think #devil may cry #dante (dmc)#forgor to put his tags my bad

146 notes · View notes

qwertycake · 9 months

Text

more qpr fluffy squishy platonic writing prompts! wahoo!! part two!!! :)

Same disclaimer applies as my first post - these are aro- and ace-spec centric, may only work for shortform fiction, and feel free to tweak them to be less specific/more specific to specific characters.

Specific is a weird word lol

Anyways…

“We both get caught out in the rain and wait out the weather under the same shelter, and either we’re meeting for the first time or we have a nice excuse to hang out together” AU

“You annotate a book for me and I annotate it right back for you, and we keep passing the book back and forth until its a mess of affectionate scribbles that we keep on the coffee table” AU

"It's hot outside and you love the heat but I hate it and you're being stupidly nice and sweet to me while I'm a grouchy mess" AU

"I can teach you how to play this instrument if you stop DISTRACTING ME by looking so ENDEARING AND INFATUATED" AU

"Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes" AU

"We're both too tired to take care of ourselves because of sickness/work/school/whatever but we immediately find the energy to take care of one another via making tea and grabbing blankets" AU

"We trade clothes for Halloween and do terrible impersonations of one another" AU

"We have a bunch of unfinished craft projects between the two of us and decide to just... finish them all in one day... 24 itty-bitty hours... oh boy..." AU

"We recreate a terrible low-budget movie together" AU

"On Valentine's Day, we decide to make a bunch of garlic bread and cake, and buy each other flowers in the colours of our respective aro-/ace-spec flags... and then the day after, we buy all the chocolate that's finally gone on sale" AU

“I teach you how to do make-up because for one reason or another you’re unfamiliar with it” AU

“Fake dating and having dramatic break ups over silly things in public for shits and giggles” AU

“So, the world might have just ended… so guess who has two thumbs and a bunker that desperately could use a roommate?” AU

“We’re made to play seven minutes in heaven at a party and after a few awkward minutes of silence we both decide to just order a pizza or something while we wait out the seven minutes” AU

“Hey, you can dance, and I can’t, teach me— no, I don’t care that I’ve got two left feet, teach me!” AU

“We’re both artists, maybe of different skill levels, and we decide to draw/paint/make art of each other” AU

“I’m a night owl and you’re more of a day person, so whenever we stop texting because you have to go to bed, I’m stuck laying awake thinking about you Please Enjoy Waking Up To A Bunch Of Messages” AU

“I’m a day person and you’re more of a night owl but I struggle to fall asleep because I’m stuck thinking about how lucky I am to be your friend Hey I Think I Could Stay Up For An Extra Ten Minutes” AU

“We’re both nervous about going to the gym alone so we try going together… but neither of us have the guts to get out of the car so we just go for a walk or something instead” AU

“You’re super into sports and exercise and I’m just getting into it but you hype me up so I’m less nervous about getting started” AU

“I bake a whole bunch, you cook big meals… at the same time of day - our kitchen is chaos” AU

“It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re hanging out at a party and everyone’s speculating that we’re gonna have our New Year’s Kiss together but the New Year comes and we just do a weird handshake” AU

“Non-Fatal Hanahaki Disease AU where we’re some of the few people who don’t experience it because we’re content with whatever non-romantic thing we have together… but we both have hay fever and are very annoyed by the constant barrage of flower petals around us and have to tell our friends to Please Stop Crushing On The Random Barista At Starbucks It’s The Third Time This Week You Are KILLING US” AU

“We’re both alien test subjects who’ve never met before and have to try and plan our escape - bonus points if the aliens are specifically testing for something like amatonormative like All Humans Fall In Love and we’re the black swans of the research since they apparently abducted Only Romantic Allosexuals Aside From Us Somehow” AU

“It’s midnight and you show up on my doorstep unannounced after a long while of us drifting apart, what on earth happened?” AU

“We’re both capable of granting wishes - you’re the monkey’s paw and I’m the guy who’s stuck remedying all the messed up things you have happen to people What Is Wrong With You” AU

And finally…

“I’m laying on the couch at a party drunk/high/exhausted/whatever and you’re looking after me, having only met me that night - I proceed to ramble about how embarrassed I’ll be when I’m older and think back to how I made a fool of myself in front of someone I wanted to be friends with really badly… but luckily for me, you’re flattered that I think you’re super cool” AU

#certified qwertycake moment #writing prompt #writing #au #otp prompt #imagine your otp #platonic otp prompt #brotp #aromantic #asexual #aroace #arospec #aspec #acespec #ace #qpr #qpp

110 notes · View notes

zooblenation · 5 months

Text

OK GAMERS. ITS TIME. CHESIL DEAL WITH PANDEMONIUM BACKSTORY. for those of you who are new here: this is the fellow doomed to the narrative.

if you haven’t already read pandemoniums lore i suggest doing that first:

sol is also a character in chesils backstory. heres her lore! not a requirement to read to understand but shes my baby:

LETS GET RIGHT INTO IT. I’ll quickly cover his life growing up. Chesil was born into the kingdom of Canema. Ill save Canema lore for another post but heres a quick description. A desert kingdom, located inside the ravines of sandstones cliffs. The ravines were lined with houses carved out from the sandstone, and lead into a crater in the middle. In the massive crater was were the kingdoms royal family and markets were found. Canema was relatively peaceful, apart from the monster problem. Inside these ravines were cave systems loaded with unpleasant creatures who would regularly attack the kingdom. This kingdom has very few magic users in it, the most magic Chesils ever seen is maybe a traveling wizard passing through. This is where Chesils family comes in, they were the kingdoms protectors and monster hunters. (whether or not it was ethical to invade an animals home then wipe them out when they tried to protect themselves is for you to decide.) They were widely famous and known throughout Canema. heres they r!!

First is Otto Mupfordian (biological dad) Winifred (Winnie) Mupfordian (biological sister) and Farrier Mupfordian (dad who married in) . (chesils biological mom is not super relevant. one day ill make an indepth post on the family lore) Chesil was, well, a bit different from them. He was not your RAHHHHHH KILL DESTROY gym buff. If anything he was the opposite. He was incredibly shy and reserved, and would probably fall over if you asked him to hold a shield. He loved his family more than anything, and they loved him back, but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t living in their shadow. Being born into a famous family, it was a bit hard connecting with other people your age. They either expect you to be Just like your family, or only want to talk to you because they want to meet the legends themselves. Chesil lack of social skills made it hard enough, with all this piled on he tended to isolate himself. In the process of doing this, his family became his only support system. They were all he cared about. Chesil clearly did not inherit the monster hunter title, and turned to a more creative line of work. Doll making. Not children’s toys, but intricate detailed Display dolls. He was quite skillful at it too, and due to his family’s connections, he was able to find frequent commisioners. Ok. Time jump. Chesil is 20 years old. He’s not completely miserable per-say, but depressed and lonesome. At least he has his work and family, right? (incorrect buzzer sound) WRONG! Chesil has DEAD FAMILY SYNDROME. The Mupfordians were frequently invited to royal parties, and attended them accordingly. Chesil rarely joined along, parties were overstimulating and Not his thing. One night, his family went out to one. For reference, the Mupfordians lived on top of one of the cliffs, and had a path carved out for their carriage to travel down. Would be a shame if the path became unstable from wear. But haha im sure its fine. Chesil woke up the next morning to see his family had not returned yet. Not to concerning, maybe they got drunk, and decided to stay at an inn overnight. More time passes. No sight of them. Surely they would of sent a message by now if they planned to stay out longer. So chesil decided it was time to head into town an investigate. He didn’t make it very far. Following the road down, he noticed a part of it had fallen away. When he looked over the edge he saw something much worse, the carriage his family had taken to the party. And well. His Family. They did not survive the wreck. His entire world had fallen apart in the span of a few seconds. Chesil, who’s life revolved around his family, did not handle this very well at all. Sure people stopped by to pay their condolences, but he had no connection to any of them. This is where Pandemonium shows up.

Well. Kinda. Up until the week of their funeral, a strange pink cat kept appearing to Chesil. Only ever in the corner of his eye, and never for to long. He thought he was just going crazy. During his family’s funeral, he had a moment of Fuck. This is to much, I cant be here. I cant watch this. I cant do Any of this. I have nothing left. So. He planned to go home kill himself. Chesil snuck out of the funeral early and went home, and started on his note. (visuals for the audience. here is his room. he is writing the note at that desk above the bed.)

While writing the note, he once again saw the pink cat, appearing in his window. (like. INSIDE of the glass.) Instead of immediately disappearing this time, the cat started to move across the glass, and into another reflective surface in the room, and another, and another. Chesil confused and frustrated by this creature he had been haunted by for the past week, got up and chased him. He ran downstairs following this beast as he appeared in different surfaces, until the creature went inside his family’s blacksmith room. He hadn’t dared step foot in this room since they passed, it was to much of a reminder of everything they made. With a deep breath, Chesil stepped in. The cat was no longer in sight as he slowly walker through the room. He called out to the creature, to no avail. When he made it to the end of the room, he noticed one of his family’s shield’s had fallen to the floor. This is where Pandemonium fully reveals himself in the reflection of the shield, and speaks for the first time. “You caught me!” He laughs, “Now its my turn to catch you.” And with that, it reaches a paw through the shield and grabs Chesil, pulling him inside. Erm. I never drew the room Pandemonium pulls chesil into, but I imagine it looks like this. but minus the walls and instead all these stained glass panels are floating in a black void.

Chesil finds himself at the top of the stained glass stair panels, and no cat to be seen. He calls out again, to once again be met with silence. Unsure of what to do, Chesil starts down the stairs, until he is at the round panel at the bottom. (for the audience, i imagine pandemonium is on the under side of the glass panels, following chesil. heres UGLY OLD ART OF THAT. pretend theres a panel between them.)

This is where Pandemoniums walks to the right side up, and Chesil sees him Not in a reflective surface, but in his physical form. Chesil, who afore mentioned has little experience with magic, is Beyond confused, he questions the cat in a panicked tone, asking who he is. And finally the cat answers. He introduces himself as Chatté. (french word for cat. a simple and much less threatening name then Pandemonium.) Someone who is here to help Chesil! And maybe Chesil could help Him im return. Suddenly, the stained glass stairs start moving around them, and form into different shapes, so “Chatté” can share his story of Woe. (once again to the audience, the story im about to share is a Lie. Pandemonium made it up to trick Chesil. Its backstory didn’t change LOL.) He tells the tale of three wizards, who trapped him inside the mirror plane, which is why Chesil has only seen him through Reflections. Pandemonium desperately wants to be free again! And the only way he can do so is if the wizards are murdered. Then he brings Chesils family into the mix, Proposing a deal. Three lives for three lives. I revive your family, and you go out and kill the wizards to free me in return. We both win! Just dont break the deal haha therewillbeconsquences ANYWAYS. Now Chesil isn’t the violent type, but this is his Only Chance. Its this, or go back and kill himself. Begrudgingly he accepts. Pandemonium gives him a mirror, and says it will lead him to the location of the first wizard. Once that wizard is defeated, it will show the next, and so on so forth. Heres what the mirror looks like :33 but pretend those jesters chesils skipping around the middle are Pandemonium.

And poof. Chesil is shot back out of the shield, and everything is suddenly back to normal. His family is back in the house, acting like nothing ever happened. Yay! Well partial yay. Chesil now has the whole murder thing to deal with. He was made aware these fights wouldn’t be easy, and he should train himself in advance. Insert training montage here. He asks Winifred to teach him how to properly use a sword, and shes delighted to obviously. Like damn.. Chesils finally taking interest in fighting!!! During all this, Chesil gets a commission request from a theater actor to create a doll line of herself featuring the outfits shes preformed in. This is just like any other job Chesil has had, some random rich person wanting a doll of themselves. Nothing Suspicious Here. This actor goes by the name of Soleil. (YES. THE SOLEIL. erm i never made a proper design for an actor self but heres a small doodle.)

Sol presents herself as flamboyant and incredibly extroverted. She insists on having a close eye on Chesil’s creation process, finding it fascinating. Chesils used to people checking in, but Sol is definitely the most curious customer he’s ever had. Long story short, throughout the course of Chesil killing the first two wizards, they fall in love. (YURIII) Sol opens up to him more n more as he works on her dolls, and he realizes shes more than just Rich Actor! Shes actually just as insecure as he is, and she worries people only like her for the person she is on stage, her exuberant personality is more of an act than reality. they r shitty teen romance minus the teen part its just cheesy. Anyways keep this in mind, BACK TO THE HORRORS. first wizard battle! i actually have whole battle sequences written for each wizard but i am looking at the length of this already and have decided Ok maybe this can wait for another post. but in summary the wizard battles took place in arenas they created. Kinda like a soul gem in madoka where you get Pulled In. its jn an entirely different realm, so the battles themselves were pretty extravagant and had Crazy arenas. The first wizard Chesil had to kill was Etoile.

erm also heres chesils sword in detail btw. hes kills the wizards with This

The battle was successful and Chesil now has to live with that guilt forever. Yayyyyyyyyy. Onto the next victim. A wizard by the name of Lune

This time, Chesil meets him before seeing him in his wizards clothes. Because unfortunately enough, he was Etoiles husband. Lune comes to the Mupfordians after the disappearance of his husband, asking them for help. He had already been to the royal guards, but he knows the Mupfordians are the pro monster hunters, and hopes that they can keep an eye out for Etoile, in the unfortunate scenario where he may of um. Got eaten by a monster. Chesil is sweating his ASS OFF during all of this, amd seeing the consequences of his actions in real time reallyyyy take a blow on his sanity. To have to see this poor grieving husband knowing He Did it and that he was going to have to kill him Next. And the paranoia of getting caught by his Own family is now lingering over him. But haha. In to far now huh? So onwards into the next battle. Chesil fights Lune and wins. Chesils really starting to slip now. Turns out murder is taxiing. BUT IT GETS WORSE. The third wizard is revealed. Its none other than Soleil herself. The person Chesil has spent the past 6 months falling in love with. (bruh.. i have this whole thing in my mind where over the 6 months chesils craftsmenship of the soleil dolls hes been commisioned slowly gets worse n worse until she’s revealed to be the final wizard and chesil COMPLETELY breaks the doll. representative of his mental state throughout the story haha) Seeing her again after finding out is so. hard. Having to pretend everything’s normal when you know the shitstorm that is about to happen. Anyways Chesil invites Soleil out on a date. Somewhere farrrrr out, and the truth gets revealed. Commence Battle.

Unlike Lune and Etoiles battles, its not Super extra and or extravagant, its just Chesil and Soleil in an arena(tho the arena badass as fuck.), fighting with their weapons. Its much more personal and Real. Sol fights back, but is begging Chesil the entire time to stop. That maybe we can find another way. Chesil is fucking LOOSING IT BRO. And after Sol lands a nasty hit on him he Stops. He Cant Do This. He Cant Kill Her. Its To Much. Sol tries to reach out to help him up, but he instead runs off. He’s in a complete panicked state, and doesn’t know what to do. All thats going through his head is he needs to LEAVE. He needs to take his family and RUN. So he does just that. Chesil runs back home Bloody and fucked up from that battle, begging his family to get in the carriage, they are confused and incredibly concerned, but oblige. And down the hill they start, the whole scene is fast and frantic and before you know it the carriage crashes off into the same spot. Or at least it Almost does, as the carriage flys off the hill with everyone inside, it freezes in mid air. Except for Chesil, who slams down into the bottom.

omfg this art is soooo old and a bit outdated. pretend like he has a massive cut on his chest. but i drew this moment. this whole scene makes me crazy the story Ends how it Began. looping back to the original carriage crash, to show you cant ever really change fate. it’s Inevitable. Suddenly, the world starts falling apart around him. Like a stage set. Chesil is out of his mind running through this world being torn apart as he goes through it, until he curls himself up in a little ball shaking and sobbing. A familiar voice speaks and gentle paw rests on his own paw, it’s Winifred. She tells him its safe now. Its ok. Look at me. When Chesil retreats out of his shell and looks up at her, her warm smile twists into a cruel one, and the gentle grasp on his hand turns into a much harsher one, snapping back his fingers. Owie. Her whole body contorts as she turns into a much smaller form. A pink cat. Pandemonium. “Trying to run away, are we?” His voice echoes throughout the black emptiness that was once Canema. He laughs and goes on his little villain monologue. Tsk tsk tsk. Breaking your deal, well, I guess I knew it was coming. It was designed this way after all. Chesil questions what he means by designed. And the true horror of this whole situation is revealed to him. The revived family he had been living with for 6 months? Fake. The wizards? Fake. Soleil…? Fake. Pandemonium had set him up, created a deal he Knew Chesil would fail. Soleil was planted from the beginning. But god, didn’t it make a thrilling story? Wonderful entertainment. You fell for All of it. A tragic love story, having to decide between his family and love. Epic battles. Almost getting caught. Your descent into insanity. It was perfect. But now its over, and you broke the deal by trying to run. It was all an illusion! In fact Chesil, you never left that chair while writing that stupid letter. It all started from the moment you ran down the hallway chasing me. Your body has been rotting in that seat for months. And now your soul is mine, Pandemonium explains. Before Chesil has anytime to process any of this, he is turned into another one of Pandemoniums puppets and shoved into his mind prison.

hehe YUP HIS MIND PRISON IS HIS ROOM. AND HES TIED DOWN TO THE CHAIR WITH VINES. reference to him never leaving the chair and the overgrowth from the plants in his room consuming him. kicks feet back n forth. Now hes spent the last 5 years in puppet hell. n well. Its a bad ending i know. But this is just his backstory Before our cnd campaign started. He was shoved into the party as his puppet self, and a few sessions in his curse was broken (MOST FUN REVEAL OF MY LIFE. NOBODY IN MY PARTY KNEW HE WAS A PUPPET They just thought he was some crazy clown guy. Turns out hes actually a WIMPY LOSER.) And now Chesil continues his story in the campaign, shoved into a prophecy. Not even I will know where his character will go. Shrugs. Hes currently having a joker arc right now for good reasons but i’ll keep you guys updated as the sessions continue....

OMFG THIS IS SO LONG AND I GENUINELY COULD OF MADE IT SO MUCH LONGER HAHA. I could say so much abt this story BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT ITS MY BABY

#muppysocs #oc:chesil #cnd #furry oc #furry art #furry #clown #jester #\jester oc #clown oc #character design #concept art #AUGH AUGH IM CRAZY #oc:pandemonium #oc:sol

40 notes · View notes