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#(​they also have so much angst potential tho)
cozybells · 6 months
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what if they were meaner and also were in love
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the--firevenus · 11 months
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“I am scared to lose you, when we have finally found each other.”
-Quote from my fav fanfic ever exist, and I've applied it to all my ships ever since <3
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raptureshots · 26 days
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im so. so so sooo happy abt all the. Fontaine appreciation thats been happening recently like!!!!!! AUGHH Frank has been my fav character for a HOT MINUTE and his character is just. really interesting to me... thank u guys...
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szept-sosna · 10 months
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if i wrote a deep introspective fic about nancy and potato and their relationship with affection would i be burned alive? bc their tag on ao3 is barren! BARREN I TELL YOU
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whenthegoldrays · 10 months
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Taylor Swift x my favorite ships • Part 5
Milo Murphy x Amanda López (Milo Murphy's Law)
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peace
"... As long as danger is near / And it's just around the corner, darlin', cause it lives in me/ No, I could never give you peace // And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child"
Danger literally lives in Milo, yet Amanda has not only learned to accept that but also to be part of his support system and help him face living with Murphy's Law. I think this song would fit their more grown-up selves perfectly, what with "our coming of age has come and gone" and "give you a child"
Sweet Nothing
"They said the end is coming; everyone's up to something / I find myself running home to your sweet nothings / Outside, they're push and shoving; you're in the kitchen humming / All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing"
Amanda has lots of anxieties and gets stressed out easily, but Milo, his sweet ray of sunshine self, and his ability to roll with the punches has helped her to face things better. They balance each other out so well 💙
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halforcdad · 2 years
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Thoughts on how they will explain a possible 3 episode Lucy absence?
The first thing that comes to mind that makes sense to me is Lucy's family.
We don't really know much about Lucy. Take it from her, her entire life is just work, gym, and Kate. She doesn’t really have anything else going on (I really thought her being a junior agent and wanting to follow in Tennant's footsteps was gonna be up there, but they seemed to randomly drop that after they futzed with the timeline to give us that Kacy backstory). The only thing we really know about her is that she has issues with her rich family and potentially burned that bridge when she left Texas. Given NCIS: Hawai`i's focus on ohana and the crumbs she was dropping last season (they were her third-most talked about thing behind work and Kacy angst lol), Lucy’s family troubles seem to be shaping up to be her other big long-term storyline. 
Among the bits of bts we've gotten from 2x07 (presumably the last episode she would be in if she were to be absent for 3 episodes) was this interesting little sneak peak:
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(from a bts video a crewmember uploaded, these are tori and yas's stand-ins while the crew is setting up the shot)
Looks like the perfect set-up for them to get personal, like talking about Lucy’s fear of the water or quietly reflecting on her insecurities or her family/childhood (we already have a Whistler focused episode so this could be Lucy’s moment). Like something on the same level of seriousness as the scene where Lucy’s comforting and encouraging Kate outside of the FBI BBQ, but maybe with less anxiety and more chill vibes lol. It could be a great opportunity to finally introduce some substantial Lucy backstory and or a long-term background storyline that isn’t just about her and Kate.  
I know a lot of people theorize that her family has cut her out completely or vice versa, but NCIS: Hawai'i already has one parent-child relationship that started out like that with Wally and Kai so maybe they want to differentiate a little (though they could use that similarity as an opportunity to get them to bond over it whenever that storyline happens, a more in-depth version of 1x04). I could see her not reaching out, but not having their numbers blocked either or still keeping minimal contact with them, birthdays and whatnot. Maybe something happened with a niece or nephew or her parents and she needs to go back and see them. It would warrant Tennant giving her extended personal time to take care of it. Plus, it would be easy to explain why she’s not in the episode at all if she’s back on the mainland and if they wanted to, they could include her without her needing to be on location/the sets via either phone or video calls and she could record all her scenes ahead of time. Though, the cons to this would be that if Lucy was absent from the episode, that means we wouldn’t get to see any of the angsty family scenes! (unless there were flashbacks shown later) and it could turn into a lot of tell not show type story writing which I hate. It would be a neat way to introduce angst though if Lucy is keeping it all in and not telling anybody about what happened even though its clearly affecting her (or if Kate feels hurt that Lucy didn't want her to go with her/isn't telling her either). It would be an interesting bump in the road in a season where she's been building trust and communication with Kate. My dream would be for it to progress slowly, more mentions of her past here and there, her family slowly becoming more present in her life (good or bad), maybe a brother or sister shows up in an episode down the line as a suspect or to visit and that throws her off, but I want the parents showing up to be an unexpected monumental thing that doesn't happen until like at least late s3 or s4.
Each of their cases takes places over the course of a few days minimum and that’s not even accounting for the amount of time that might take place in between them. Unless they threw in a few Nightwatch type cases (which they solved in one friday night and one entire saturday) then I don’t see how you explain away that big of an absence in-story unless you introduce a big storyline like Lucy needing to go back home for some reason. 
Another possibility I’ve seen floating around is Lucy getting hurt in the upcoming episodes, which is very doable and I would not hate it at all. My only potential concern with that is I would want her to have scenes with the whole team and not just Kate while she's recovering. So maybe if she’s in the hospital, Tennant comes by to see her and tells her about the case or the boys throw her a little party in the hospital or they video call her because she’s bored out of her mind. Though, since Lucy’s in the crossover, I don’t know how keen Tennant would be bringing an agent who was recently seriously injured with her to LA on a mission like the one being described in the crossover (Noah is also listed as being in the crossover, but I don’t know if I’ve heard or seen anything at all about him filming out of state). IIRC, the synopsis mentions something about agents being targeted so Lucy being separated from everyone while in Texas could make her an easy target? Or if she hears about Tennant going to LA, it would make sense why she’s the one accompanying her because she’s already on the mainland and would probably be looking for an excuse to leave her family (or maybe she wants to leave Texas to protect them since she’s a target). 
Hell, since we're speculating let's just throw shit at the wall. Maybe they do something wild like Lucy went on a long undercover thing or oh she's suspended because she fucked up.
Of course, they could still go with, “oh Tennant just shipped Lucy off to help another division since she's the only one who doesn't have family they need to take care of in Hawai’i or Lucy needed to help a friend or something it’s nbd,” and have her come back like nothing happened. 
tldr; keeping up with the taras, she gets hurt, they just brush it off casually, or they throw something out of left field
(i am in the camp that if she were to be absent entirely, id lean more on it only being a one or two episode absence at most)
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M25 made my reishi heart stronger than coai
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zarafey · 1 year
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Noooo through reading a fanfic I was forced to reevaluate a relationship in the one I'm writing and now I'm just seeing so many more parallels between those 2 characters and fuck im already putting so many characters together and now there's ANOTHER ONE
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primofate · 3 months
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3 am brainrot
Soulmate, but Genshin Impact Style
Warning: angst (lots of potential to be fluff and comfort ending tho)
Vision "resonates" with each other and a thin red line connects your vision to their vision
Thin red line disappears, frays, or splits off when something is wrong with the connection or the other person
You can use their element and they can use yours. If you are the same element it provides an elemental increase.
Element exchange also stops or weakens when there's something wrong with the connection or the other person
There's a kind of "sixth sense" activated wherein you can kind of feel each other's psyche
Imagining what it would be like for power hungry Scaramouche to find out he has access to another element. Meets a complete stranger and suddenly he's stronger. Starts to keep you close only for that reason, doesn't care much about your well being in general. Then finding out that he can STILL use your element even if the two of you are far apart. You part ways rather abruptly, and he's not sure how long it had been when the red line starts to fray and his access to your element starts to dwindle. He doesn't think much of it, but day by day it gets weaker and day by day the red line disappears a little more. A sudden sense of "If that line disappears I won't ever be able to follow it back to y/n" so he starts following it. He doesn't really notice there's a sense of urgency in him, he tells himself its only because he wants the power back, but when he rouses from a short rest to find that the red line is gone... why does it suddenly feel like he's all alone again?
Imagining characters like Xiao, Cyno and Alhaitham who completely rejects using your element. They don't need yours. They are just fine and all is well using only their own. In a sense they take pride in what they have, and doesn't really care for what power you can give. They aren't interested in maintaining a relationship with a stranger either, because, what for? However, you're slightly persistent in at least getting to know a little about them. Just a tiny bit. But that tiny bit is enough to push them to tell you he's not interested in any kind of chit chat, that he's busy and needs to focus on other things. So you turn away. Out of curiosity one day he tries to use your element. It strangely gives him the feeling of warmth. Like someone's protecting and watching over them (and for someone who always does the protecting, this is a big deal). One day, the line breaks off, there's a clear split and he wonders if all is well. He follows the line back to you, and finds out that you've been spending a good amount of time with someone else. Someone who you smile at very brightly, and someone who is interested in getting to know you. What's he to do? This was his doing. So why does he feel like coming over and snatching you away?
Imagining characters like Diluc, Neuvillette and Wriothesley, astounded but somewhat pleasantly surprised by the discovery. He neither rejects you nor accepts you, but feels a sense of responsibility over you just because of the connection made. But because they have their own things to be busy with, they don't exactly actively seek you out or have the time to check in frequently. Perhaps it's a monthly thing, following the line and looking for you. There's a relationship that looks like the beginnings of friendship. A little awkward, asking questions and fumbling for more questions to ask. Still, something builds, and just when the ice is about to break between the two of you, he follows the line...and somehow ends up out in the wild. Your vision is buried next to a tree, for a moment he's struck with panic that he would find your body buried, but judging from how the red line was still intact, you were most likely safe somewhere... however, he would never see you anymore, nor know the reason why you decided to hide. All of a sudden he wished that he had more time. He doesn't know whether this situation was comforting or concerning. He has you in the palm of his hand, but never close enough to fill the empty gap.
Imagining characters like Zhongli, Dainsleif and Tartaglia, who, despite their appearances is instantly intrigued by the connection. They don't need the additional power, but they keep the connection anyway because they partly feel that destiny is something you can't change. The closeness between you two easily grows and here is when you first approach him with a favor.
"Can you help me with something?"
"Of course. Would tomorrow be a good time?"
There's a bit of a pause on your side. "Tomorrow..." and its as if you look up at him with more sparkle in your eyes than usual. "...Yeah. That'll work. Thank you," the way you say thank you is so sincere and loving it almost brings him to a joy he hadn't felt in a long time.
He woke the next day. The connecting red line was nowhere to be found.
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sorcerersseestars · 11 months
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synopsis: Gojo blames you for the first-years' disaster that the higher-ups caused.
pairing: Gojo Satoru x gn! reader
genre: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff
warnings: mention of death/a corpse, yelling, heavy feelings of self-blame, stuttering (it makes sense here tho I promise), emotionally constipated Gojo, mention of not eating for an extended period of time/being hungry (due to the situation), manga spoilers!! (star plasma vessel arc), indirect confessions
word count: 5.2k
notes: There are some slightly non-canon details. I’m pretty sure that Nanami and Yuji don’t know each other at this point, but let’s pretend they do. Also, I’m insinuating a more seasoned bond between Gojo and Yuji/reader and Yuji - let’s also pretend that they’ve been teaching Yuji for longer at this point, for more angst potential. :) LAST THING - you used to be a very mediocre child/adolescent actor in a few small/bad films. Only relevant for one detail.
Also, Gojo may be a bit ooc here - possibly overdramatic in his wordings - but I really wanted to write a Gojo that loses control of his emotions, since I think it'd be difficult to elicit such a reaction from him. I hope it suits him okay!!
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GOJO HAS ALWAYS had a soft spot for you. In high school, he would regularly volunteer himself to take your blame, even though you never asked him to do it and would practically begged him not to. But, he was frustratingly persistent and would do it despite your many protests. If you ever cheated on an assignment, Gojo would claim he copied yours. If you fumbled during a mission, Gojo would lie in the report. If you both snuck out and got caught, Gojo would say he dragged you out with force. Whenever you would have an argument with someone, Gojo would comfort you afterwards, insisting the other person was in the wrong even when they obviously weren’t.
Although he has eventually ramped down this ridiculous treatment over the years, you will never forget this boyish idiosyncrasy from your younger days.
Today, however, it’s like those days never even existed. You don't recognize the person standing in front of you. You can’t blame him for his reaction – it's wholly natural – but it still jars you.
Today, you fucked up. You fucked up so badly that there's a very permanent, unchangeable consequence to your actions – or rather, your lack thereof. The consequence of your stupidity, the result of your thoughtlessness, lies unmoving in this room. The body of Itadori Yuji, separated from reality only by the thin plastic covering of a body bag, rests on a table only feet from where you stand.
His mentor, one sworn to protecting his students, sworn to delaying his impending execution as much as possible, stands before you. His signature blindfold obscures his eyes, and you can only imagine the wild, swirling gaze you would be faced with in its absence.
Yuji’s mentor – your long time close friend, who has never blamed you in any great capacity for anything through the entirety of your friendship – now looks at you scathingly.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He spits, tone icy.
He's not looking at you as he rigidly hovers over the operating table, but you can feel the intensity of his emotions despite the distance. Words fall out of your brain, and you struggle to string together a cohesive thought.
“I-" You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “The higher-ups told me not to go with them, I don’t know wh–"
He barks out a harsh laugh, cutting off your pathetic excuse. His head is in his hands, fingers roughly carding through his disheveled hair. He pauses in his ministrations to face you: he is suddenly towering over you, broad frame filling even the corners of your vision.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He growls. “Did you stop to think for even a second? Why would they ever ask a teacher to stay behind?”
Tears begin to slide down you cheeks. You quickly wipe them away and will your building urge to break down to go away.
He sighs, his breath leaving him loudly and aggressively. “I don’t understand how this happened. You know how this works, (Y/N)! You know how the higher-ups are!”
“I’m sorry,” You choke out quietly, voice stretched and thin. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back, (Y/N)!” Gojo shouts.
Shoko and Ijichi are silent. Shoko is looking at the ground, her stony expression difficult to determine. Shoko, your friend who always sticks up for you no matter what, especially when dealing with Gojo. Shoko, who hasn’t spoken a single word to you since you arrived. For once, she agrees with him.
Your eyes land on the black body bag laying on the operating table, and you can’t hold it back any longer. Your legs weaken underneath you and you begin to shake. The sobs you’ve been suppressing rip out of your throat. Ugly, choking sobs.
Nobody moves to comfort you. If anything, Gojo’s scowl deepens, and Shoko turns away at your display of emotion.
“I know,” You sob. “I know it doesn’t. I know it's my fault.”
You take a few shaky breaths. “I didn’t know- I didn’t mean for it to happen- I- it’s my fault.”
He slides his blindfold down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. You are about to blurt something else out, but before the words can leave your tongue, you catch his gaze and you’re immediately frozen. His boiling blue irises steal your breath and leave you rooted to the spot. Never in your life have you seen him this angry or even display this much emotion.
“If you keep standing there and crying, I think I’m going to kill something,” He says lowly.
“Gojo,” Shoko interjects in a warning tone.
Gojo bites back, “Why not? We all want the higher-ups gone. It’d be so easy. Shit like this wouldn’t happen anymore.”
Ijichi pales. Shoko roughly says, “Are you crazy?”
He doesn’t answer, and the determined look on his face isn’t necessarily comforting. It seems a storm is brewing – the most powerful sorcerer is being driven to a point.
You’re reaching a point, too – your breaking point. You feel like you can’t breathe. When you inhale, your lungs refuse to inflate past the shallowest of breaths. It’s all hitting you now, clear thoughts rising past the fog of adrenaline that overwhelmed your mind. The reality is that you fucked up, and it’s not fixable.
You fucked up, and there’s no going back in time to change your decision, to go against orders to stay with your students. There’s no way to bring Yuji back.
“Why are you still here?” Gojo says with an exasperated huff, addressing you directly. “Seeing you only adds to my anger.”
You say nothing, your mind occupied only with your regrets. He frowns and tries again.
"Unless you want to dive further into this preventable death," He says coldly. "Leave. There's still a job to be done.”
You barely hear his words. Your brain doesn’t have the energy to collect them, to interpret them, as it hyper-fixates on the horrible hole forming in your heart. Your eyes are wide, pupils enlarged, and you are visibly quivering.
“Didn’t you hear me? You need to leave!” Gojo growls, frustrated at your lack of reaction, believing it to be indifference.
“They must be in shock, Gojo,” Shoko murmurs. “They’re shutting down.”
Shoko’s diagnosis is indeed correct. You don’t hear a single word that comes out of their mouths; your shoulders and heart have grown heavy, leaden, from knowing the fate you led your students to. One deceased, two severely injured. All because of a risk you did not take, an order you did not disobey.
Yuji’s bright smile burns into the back of your eyes, a reminder of what you’ve lost, of the ultimate mistake.
One second, your eyes are on the black body bag, and the next second you can’t see anything, your vision blurred by tears and by speed. You’re running, you realize, legs pumping as fast as they can. Your lungs ache and your legs cramp up, but you can’t will yourself to stop. You can’t think. You can’t catch your breath.
When you inevitably collapse, you don’t know where you are or how much time has passed. It’s just a patch of grass damp with dew, a few maple trees dotting the banks of a small neighboring stream. You’re laying under one of these trees, your arms outstretched so your fingers can comb through the cool, wet blades of grass. You’re vaguely aware the the sun set at some point after you left. Maybe it’s been a hour, or a few more. You have no idea.
You want to scream, you want to cry, but you don’t. You can’t; it won’t come. When his grinning face and determined smile taunt you, reminding you of your sins, you can only screw your eyes shut, willing the torture to end.
Wetness finally runs down your face, and you taste salt. It is oddly comforting. Your hands repeatedly grab the gentle grass, numbing your mind until exhaustion eventually overtakes you.
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There’s a buzzing filling your brain. You groan and roll over, reaching out to your bedside table to grab the offending object. You startle at the feeling of sharp gravel under your fingertips – it’s unpleasantly damp, as well, leaving muddy residue on your hands.
The buzzing starts again, and this time you clearly feel the vibrations through your leg. You sit up, scooting back until your back firmly hits the tree trunk behind you, and force your tired eyelids to part. You have to squint, as the sun has already risen and has crossed the sky a fair amount – it must be approaching noon already.
When the buzzing persists, you grumpily rip the phone out of your pocket. It’s not an alarm, as you had expected. In fact, you startle at the caller ID: Gojo Satoru.
You stare at your phone blankly, your brain buffering. You ultimately let it ring out, although your finger hovers over the answer button. Once the screen fades to your usual background, your throat goes dry. Missed calls from Shoko, Nanami, and Gojo fill your screen. You quickly skim the accompanying texts and wince.
Shoko <3: I know we’re all upset, but we shouldn’t have taken it out on you…just let me know you’re alright, okay? (10:43 pm)
‘Nanamin’: I heard what happened. It isn’t your fault, (Y/N), no matter what anyone says. Call me if you need anything. (6:26 am)
Satoru: Where are you? (11:34 pm)
Satoru: Pick up (11:59 pm)
Satoru: please (12:03 am)
Satoru: I fucked up. I need to talk to you, please let me (12:05 am)
Satoru: I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but let someone, anyone, know you’re alright… (7:12 am)
Satoru: Megumi just told me he tried to visit you but you still weren’t home. (Y/N), please…say anything…I need to know that you’re okay (11:17 am)
It all rushes back to you: your lethal mistake, the deserved reaction you received from your two best friends, how you shamefully ran away. Fuck. There’s no way you can face any of them, especially not Megumi.
You wish this never happened. Hot tears burn your cheeks again; your eyes flood with regret. Shame quickly floods through you, making you feel hot all over. How can you feel sorry for yourself when it was your fault in the first place?
You roughly wipe your face with your sleeve and stick your phone back into your pocket. There’s no way you can respond right now. It’s bound to die soon, anyway, so there’s no point in trying.
You don’t want to move from where you sit. You want to sink into the ground and stay there until the horrible feeling inside you goes away. But…
“What if it doesn’t?” You whisper those words out into the universe, a sinking feeling in your gut telling you the answer.
You want to cry more, allow yourself to shed more tears, but you don’t. You wobbly stand up, and are surprised at how weak you are. When was the last time you ate – yesterday morning, before the disastrous mission?
You have to go home. You can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere, neglecting yourself. It’s a thought that rings in your head and won’t leave you alone until you decide to listen. Okay. You will go home. You can manage that.
It takes a while, but you find your way back to your apartment. Last night, you had apparently meandered into an expanse of empty land neighboring the school, as you pass by Jujutsu Tech on your way back. It is a bit off the beaten path – you doubt anyone has ever intentionally gone where you ended up last night.
During your journey home, you have to reference your Google Maps app a few times, but you somehow successfully get back home, despite your directional challenges and weakened state.
Until you step into your apartment, you don’t realize how cold you are. Your feet are numb from being cold and wet, your toes icy when you peel the damp socks off. You cringe at how unaware you have been at your body for the past 24 hours: your mental state ignored all physical needs.
Your stumble to your bedroom, aching body screaming for a rest. You relent easily, collapsing on your bed face first. You’re so grimy and covered in remnants of the dirt bed you laid in last night, evidence of your outside stay covering your clothing. Bits of twigs and leaves invite themselves into your sheets – you couldn’t care less right now, though. You don’t even think about it.
On instinct, you plug your dead phone in without even looking. There’s silence for a minute or two before it whirs back to life, the screen flashing at your tired eyes.
There’s another message waiting to be opened.
Megumi: Come back soon, sensei. He’s getting unsufferable
Megumi:…more than usual
A hoarse chuckle leaves your throat, the first laugh that’s left you since the whole incident. You sigh immediately after though, as you begin to wonder how Megumi has been dealing with everything. If you hadn’t run away, then…
Your head is in your hands again. No matter what path your thinking strays down, you keep returning to your immense guilt over what happened.
You wish you were mad at someone. You wish that you felt angry at Gojo, but you aren’t – you can’t be. In your eyes, he wasn’t wrong; how could you be mad at him when you agree?
You’re not mad, but there’s this other unpleasant feeling. It feels like one of Nobara’s nails has been lodged in your chest, and every time you think about his reaction, the nail twists a little deeper into your heart. He’s never yelled at you before. That hurt.
It’s understandable, but it still hurts.
Gojo…You don’t think you can face him yet, but he may come to you if your radio silence continues. Maybe you should just get it over with and call him. You can just tell him you’re alive and hang up. That should suffice.
Without thinking further on it, you grab your phone and dial his number. Within two rings, the line connects.
“Yo, (Y/N)! Long time no hear!” His chirpy voice booms through your speakers. He’s back to his usual self – overly casual and full of mirth. He sounds way too cheerful; it throws you off guard.
A sharp inhale leaves you as you’re about to tell him that you’re fine and to not worry, so that you can hang up and avoid him. But, nothing comes out. Everything you thought of saying flies out of your brain. You’re left wordless, mouth hanging open.
“You there? (Y/N)?”
You shake your head, coming to your senses.
“Yes,” The single word that leaves you is weak and breathy.
“You good? Are you home now?”
“Yeah. Home now. I’m alive, so no need to bother checking in on me,” You say thoughtlessly.
God, that was lame. You can’t help but cringe at what you just said. It’s what you intended to convey, yes, but that’s not how you wanted to say it.
“Just alive? Sounds real peppy over there!” He chuckles. “I was going to come over anyway, but you’ve really pushed it over the edge.”
“Ah,” You say somewhat panicked, searching for a way out of this. “There’s really no need. I just need rest so there’s no need. I’ll see you later, then.”
“You mean soon!” He chirps before you can hang up. You groan into your pillow; this is exactly what you had been trying to avoid. How are you even going to look at him?
You’ve just put your phone back on your nightstand when there’s sudden footsteps approaching your bedroom. Before you can think further, the door is flung upon and a familiar figure appears before you.
“Ultimate best friend Gojo Satoru has arrived! Everyone applaud!”
A series of small claps ensues, while you just stare on in silence and disgruntlement. A wide smile stretches across his face at your displeased expression.
“C’mon angel, not even a single clap? That’s cold.”
You roll your eyes, but only half-heartedly. The gesture is so pathetically slight that Gojo’s smile falls a fraction. You don’t have much emotional energy to expend on humoring him, it seems. Because of him.
It’s then that he fully takes in your appearance. Tear stained cheeks, dirt caking your clothes and body, scraps of organic material matted in your hair and clinging to all parts of you. There’s even smudges of dirt around your eyes where you’ve attempted to wipe away tears.
He questions your appearance, trying to appear lighthearted, “Was the forest calling you? You really didn’t sleep here?”
You immediately feel self-conscious of your appearance and cross your arms. You manage out a quiet, “Something like that.”
“No, seriously…where did you sleep?” He probes, this time lacking the lightheaded tone.
A weak, sheepish smile appears on your lips, “Ah…the ground? You were right, I guess.”
He blinks. You rub the back of your head and avoid eye contact, softly laughing an awkward little chuckle.
“Seriously?” He asks, but it lacks any judgment. He is truly just in disbelief.
You just nod.
“Hey, are you…are you sure you’re okay?”
You weren’t expecting that. You wish he would stay in his childish mindset – these real questions are worse.
You breathe out slowly, “I mean…yeah. I’m fine.”
It’s not a very convincing delivery, but it was the best you could manage. The corners of his lips turn down slightly, almost unnoticeably, but he doesn’t comment on your answer. He knows he should question you further, dig a little deeper, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he excuses himself, “I’ll be right back. Just stay put! I’ll know if you move, so you better not move an inch.”
He raises two fingers to his eyes, then directs them to you, clearly saying ‘I have my eyes on you!’
It’s amusing - he’s always amusing - but when you try to smile, your lips just flatline. You can’t tell if he notices, since he has already turned away and walked into the bathroom, but you hope he couldn’t tell.
When he returns, he’s holding a dampened washcloth.
“Bath time!” He says, shaking the cloth excitedly in front of you. You flinch a little as a few stray drops of water unexpectedly land on you, which he lightly laughs at.
And then he begins swiping away the dirt that has accumulated on your body. He starts with your face. He’s on his knees, one elbow resting on the space neighboring your right thigh, leaning in to have more control with the cloth. You close your eyes when his face comes within inches of yours - too close. Even when you feel as horrible as you do now, your heart won’t stop thumping quickly against your ribs, as if it cannot deny those deeply hidden feelings you harbor.
He hums while he works, gently dabbing all the places where you have visible dirt. It’s comforting, or at least it should be. You heart begins to clench tightly, and you so badly want a hole to appear in the ground to swallow you up.
“Gojo, why are you being so nice now?” You ask, voice small. “I don’t really deserve it. I’d…prefer the alternative. This feels wrong right now.”
He sets down the cloth, wincing at your pitiful words. Is that how you really feel?
He pauses. He’s not good at this sort of thing – acknowledging other people’s vulnerability, lowering his own walls to empathize with others, any of it. He hates it. He hates how emotionally he acted yesterday, he hates how it has affected you.
“No,” He sighs. He speaks slowly as he carefully chooses his words, “I…shouldn’t have acted like that yesterday. It wasn’t fair to you.”
Your bottom lip trembles, but you force yourself not to cry, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for it. Everyone was thinking it.”
He tries to catch your eye, but your gaze is downcast. He ducks, lowering himself to the ground even more, to enter your field of vision.
“Hey,” He says softly. “Do you trust me?”
Your brow furrows; you don’t understand why he’s asking you that. You feel yourself nodding, though.
“Everything I said yesterday,” He starts, but then shakes his head at himself. “No, everything I yelled at you yesterday – it was misdirected. What happened wasn’t your fault. There was no way of knowing what was about to happen.”
“But now, it’s obvious,” You mumble. “I should have known.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You were following orders. The ones assigning the orders are at fault, not you.”
You grab your sheets with tight fists. You turn your head to the side, away from his invisible gaze, “Orders that were obviously suspect. It’s still my fault as an experienced sorcerer.”
Gojo’s chest constricts. You sound exactly like he did yesterday; the consequences of his actions echo back to him from your mouth.
“I promise it’s not,” He insists, but it falls on deaf ears. “I’ve made mistakes too. I’ve made mistakes, but you never treated me like I treated you yesterday.”
Gojo clenches his teeth. This is hard. He hates bringing up this side of the past, but he’ll do it for you.
“You never judged me for what happened during the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Even though you wanted to leave that night, and I ignored you, you never blamed me.”
“You were seventeen,” You say quietly, shakily. “We were all kids. That was over a decade ago.”
“But you knew how to make it better,” He says breathlessly. “And you never even once insinuated that it was my fault.”
You smile sadly at him, and your next words are sure and immediate, “Because it wasn’t.”
Gojo’s mouth hangs open for a second, still amazed at the understanding and kindness that so easily shine through you even in the darkest moments.
He reaches out for your hands, unsure, and squeezes them when he finds them. “Can I…can I start over ? From yesterday?”
You blink blankly, not completely understanding, but give a hesitant nod anyway.
He exhales deeply and lowers his head to your hands until his forehead brushes your fingertips. It’s completely unexpected, and you freeze upon contact. His head is bowed to you – embarrassment and confusion flood you.
You are relieved when he raises his head to speak.
“What happened with our students isn’t your fault,” He says quietly but with conviction. “It’s the work of the higher ups - it’s their fault, nobody else’s. I’m…”
He pauses. Words he never says need to come out.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this happened while you were here and I was away, I’m sorry that I blamed you for things out of your control. This was never your fault.”
You are silent. You say nothing. You don’t move. Your expression stays blank.
He panics. He takes your silence as a sign of not being forgiven – which is not what he fears, in fact he doesn’t want to be forgiven. But he doesn’t want to lose you, and that’s exactly what he thinks has happened. Did he completely sever the bond spanning more than a decade?
“I understand if you can’t forgive me, but,” He swallows thickly, the anxious feeling rising. “But I hope this doesn’t…”
He tries again, “I hope our friendship…I hope you- I don’t want to lose you after all we-”
“Satoru – it’s not that,” You say quickly. “You haven’t, I promise. I have already forgiven you. I forgave you from the moment it started.”
You close your eyes, clenching them shut. You don’t want to cry again. “It’s just that…even if I’m not directly at fault, Yuji is still dead. Our student is dead. Despite anything that can be said of the situation, that fact will not change.”
He really shouldn’t tell you this. He needs to, but he shouldn’t.
“Do you trust me?” He says again, voice only a whisper. He’s even closer now, only inches away. A hand raises to ease his blindfold down so that it rests loosely around his neck.
Your eyes on his are so clear, and reveal so much – surprised by his bare gaze, confusion clear in your beautiful eyes he finally can see so clearly up close.
“Of course,” You whisper breathlessly. “Always have.”
“Close your eyes, and hold on,” He says. “Don’t want you getting lost again, angel.”
You know what that means. Teleportation. But where could he be taking you that is so important right now? Maybe somewhere he knows you like to calm you down?
You’re taken aback by the rush of air around you even though you’ve traveled like this many times.
The few uncomfortable moments in the strange vortex allow you to question where be could be possibly be taking you. Before you can decide on an answer, however, the roar in your ears subsides, and you are steadied by his grip around your shoulders. He's so close again, wisps of his soft hair tickling your neck. One of his large hands drops down to clutch yours. You’re ashamed about now nice it all feels in such a situation.
Then all that slips away and you're immediately on guard - there's another cursed presence nearby.
“Gojo-sensei, you’re back? That movie was kind of weird and bad, but I swear that one character was (L/N)-sensei. Do they have a twin or something?”
Your eyes pop open. Your hand falls out of Gojo’s as your grip completely goes slack. That voice…Youthful, full of energy and a kind innocence. It could only be...
Gojo responds ecstatically, dramatically, “Ah, but of course not! I have brought an honored guest! An old time Hollywood star whose home was the red carpet! The famed, the budding talent, (Y/N)-”
He’s cut off by a shriek. He blinks twice, and you’re already far from his side, rushing to the secret he has to keep - the secret he couldn’t possibly keep from you.
You crash into Yuji, binding him in a crushing hug. He's open mouthed and spluttering in surprise, but you don't have it in you to be embarrassed right now. You have no idea how, but he is standing before you, living and breathing. As seemingly endless tears pour down your face, you miss now the confusion on his face morphs into a look of grim understanding. He doesn't know what you went through, but he can guess.
And then you're laughing. Crying and laughing. Heaving breaths to accommodate your almost hysterical laughter, standing back to wipe away your tears before hugging Yuji again.
The sight of you hugging your student so tightly, healing with just this action, coaxes a half smile out of Gojo. Only half because he is in danger of faltering himself, bottom lip wavering as a wave of emotion flows over him.
The abandoned blindfold is clenched tightly in his hand as he tries to hold back the emotions welling in his brilliant eyes. He almost wants to put it back on to hide the emotions underneath, but he can’t, not when the whole reason he took it off was to see this with his own eyes.
No words are exchanged for a long while. They don't need to be, and even Gojo can see that.
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By the time he is taking you home, your dynamic has shifted back to something more normal. It's raining, but you insist on walking back, citing the fact that his teleportation makes you horribly dizzy. (Or maybe, just maybe, you want a little more time with him. But you'd never admit that to yourself.)
The constant overhead drizzle is a bit annoying, but is bearable despite Gojo's claims of it tainting his very existence. He’s clearly back to his overdramatics - it's comforting.
The streets are dark, with only muted warm yellow lights lining the sidewalks, creating only vague halos of light due to the misty air. Gojo walks close to your side, an arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders. At some point through your chatting, it slips down to your waist. You don't notice it right away, but once you do, all you can do is wonder if he's done that before - if it's normal for friends.
You notice something else strange. His blindfold is still loosely hanging from his body, his baby blues on display. It's hard to look at him like this - you feel too exposed - even though you desperately want to get lost in his eyes. Yes, your deep affection for him still rings true, even if he yelled at you, even if he did expose your horrible, cringey child acting.
“I can’t believe you put on that movie!” You exclaim, miming exasperation.
Gojo chuckles, “Scolding me again, that’s a good sign. Even if it’s for an illogical reason – c’mon, ‘Painters in Paris’ is a classic!”
You can’t hold back your wide, devious smile, “I guess you would think that since you literally look like a fucking paint brush!”
His jaw drops, and he looks at you faux-offended as you practically double over in laughter.
“Angel! No, I really should be calling you devil! You- get over here!”
Although you run from him, he quickly catches up to you and you’re in his grasp. He immediately overwhelms you with vicious tickles.
“Gojo!! Satoru, you– stop that!” You say between bouts of laughter. You’re off balance, and his relentless attack isn’t helping. “Hey, stop, I’m gonna–!”
You stumble and begin to topple to the cold cement, but you’re scooped up before you meet your demise.
A small gasp escapes you at your proximity, and at his eyes so clearly looking deeply into yours, yearning burning through them. He's never looked at you like this - has he?
“Woah! That was close, huh, angel?” He smiles, tone nonchalant and voice steady. He seems unaffected by your closeness, but his eyes tell a different story. You don't know what to trust - him or his eyes. But they say that the eyes are the windows into the soul – what answer does that leave you with?
And what answer do you have? Right now, with his strong arms around you, those beautiful eyes glittering as if they hold a sea of stars, that sweet smile that never fails to give you butterflies, those lips you can’t help but glance at for too long–
You know.
Without thinking, you give in to your instinct to keep leaning in, and your lips meet his. It's not a passionate crash, but more of a gentle whisper to the soul. A soft brush to his lips, all the sweetness he brings to you returned.
Then, you pull away slowly, almost in confusion. Did you just do that?
You’re horrified. What did you just do without a single thought behind your action?
A gentle chuckle brings you out of your momentary horror.
“So what, you’re a paint brush kisser now?” He chuckles softly, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip.
You take in his expression - flushed cheeks, a soft smile, eyes full of a softness you've never imagined they could have.
"Yes,” You agree, your mouth stretching widely from the excitement and happiness you can’t hold back, “ l proudly am.”
He pulls you closer and kisses you deeply, again and again and again until you're both out of breath. You both stay in that moment, feelings that lay hidden for years finally spilling out, until you're completely engulfed by the rain.
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note part 2: I have a tendency to be over-detailed about boring/fluff details, so I tried to do that less here. First one shot in a while !! I hope the flow is still okay…I also couldn't decide how to do the ending, so l hope this works?
Also wow I can’t stop writing hurt/comfort and Gojo being an ass! I have another story drafted that’s also Gojo x reader and hurt/comfort as well…
Here’s a hint about that one: 🌸🩸
If you’re looking for more hurt/comfort, here’s my gojo hurt/comfort series: here (more action-y than this though)
Thanks for reading !! :)
1K notes · View notes
lowkeychenle · 7 months
Text
Irrevocably [ZCL] (M)
Description: You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction.
DID YOU MISS ME?! It's been so long someone should chop my hands off omg
Genre: Smut. Angst. Read at your own discretion!!! Read the warnings first please! It's mostly smut tho tbh
Also it's not proofread or anything crazy like that but I do hope y'all like it...I've been so busy sos
Content Warnings: Explicit, rough, unprotected sex (don't do the unprotected part), Chenle says pretty girl again (not sorry) and also slut because duality (again?), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (both), cum eating (like he actually eats his...own cum...), he's pretty pussy drunk in this he cums twice, Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! Also I'm not sure if this can be considered infidelity but if you're sensitive to that topic read with caution!
Word Count: 4,877
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (mentions of Mark Lee x Reader)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
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You can’t even say you haven’t heard from him in a while. That’s far from the truth—and in your opinion, maybe you hear from him too often. Your friendship was constructed long before any other aspect, but for as long as you could remember, it’s been you and Chenle.
Now there’s you, and there’s him. Inherently separate.
Your situation with him was simple—friends with benefits. And everything was working great at first, and the end wasn’t traumatic and the world didn’t crumble. You weren’t in love with each other, and you both mutually understood that the second someone has the potential to become more in one of your lives that you’d stop immediately.
So, when Chenle started talking to his now girlfriend, you did the right thing. The respectful thing. You backed off, and you wouldn’t say you regret it. He’s happy—happier than he was before, and that’s all you want for him. You’ve been friends for forever, after all, and what would that make you if you had ill wishes for him?
It was three months after he started dating his girlfriend that he introduced you to one of his friends, Mark. Fortunately, you got along with him well, and he gave you a much needed distraction from the empty void Chenle had left in your life. He’d been more than sex, but less than love. He gave you company and companionship, even if it was in an unconventional way.
You’d been up front and honest with Mark about your relationship with Chenle, but he didn’t mind as long as you were sure there hadn’t been feelings involved. For Chenle, you weren’t sure if he ever told his girlfriend about you. You wouldn’t blame him if he hadn’t, but considering you’d been sleeping together up until their first date, it might have been a good thing to mention.
The difference was simple—you and Mark weren’t anything, not really, but Chenle and his girlfriend were, in their words, serious. In fact, in the past four months, you hadn’t even slept with Mark. The most he was at this point was someone to keep you company.
And then everything blew up.
Chenle called you at 9 p.m., almost nine months after he started dating his girlfriend. You were in your apartment by yourself, watching the same TV show for the 70th time. You stare at your phone screen in confusion before you answer it.
“Hey,”
“Hey.” He lets out a breath, and the defeat in his voice hints something’s wrong.
“Everything okay?” you ask him, sitting up on your couch.
“We broke up.” Chenle pauses, maybe to contemplate what he says next. “Can I come see you? I know it’s random, and I probably shouldn’t, but to be bluntly fucking honest, I’ve missed you.”
“We talk all the time,” you mention and cradle your knees to your chest. 
The thought of allowing Chenle here so late scares you—old habits die hard. You feel like you owe more than that to both Mark and Chenle. Mark, because while you two aren’t together, you’ve grown quite close over the past few months. Chenle, because he’s probably not thinking straight at the moment.
“You’re the only one I can talk to about this,” he mumbles.
Your heart sinks. “It was because of me?”
“I…Not exactly. It wasn’t you at all. It was us. And it was me for not saying anything.” He sighs, and you envision the way he tugs his fingers through his hair.
“You never told her?”
“I didn’t think I needed to,” he says. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I used to fuck one of my closest friends on the regular, but now that you’re here, I stopped.’ That doesn’t sound great.”
“Better than her finding out some other way.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I told Mark.”
“That’s different,” Chenle replies. “You’re not dating Mark.”
A moment of silence passes between you two, and when you don’t respond, he clears his throat.
“Oh. You are.”
“It’s not like that.”
“So, what is it like? Is it like what we were?” He sounds shorter, as if he’s no longer enjoying the conversation.
You scoff. “It’s none of your business, Chenle. Mark is nice. And you’re the one who introduced us anyway.”
“Mark is nice,” he repeats, snorting. “You act like I don’t know you. Nice isn’t exactly your type.”
“You can come here if you stop being a dick,” you tell him. “But we’re only talking.”
“Good. I’ve got a lot to say.”
You debate changing after he hangs up, but Chenle’s already seen you at your worst. Your shorts and T-shirt won’t faze him in the slightest. Nerves like this haven’t swarmed you since the first time you slept with him. Clearly, your body doesn’t get the memo that this isn’t a booty call.
And when he arrives, you realize how well he fits. The dim, golden lighting reflecting off of his skin, the dark, oversized clothes he likes to wear, the way his hair is parted. Everything about him is exactly as you remember. It’s odd to think that way, because really, you’ve seen him as often as you used to. Things were just…different.
And under these circumstances, it’s awkward. But even when he was dating his girlfriend, there were times where the two of you were alone—nothing ever happened, of course, but it hadn’t ever been so nerve wracking until now.
It isn’t for long, though. Within seconds of your thoughts running wild, he’s closing the distance between you and pulling you into a tight hug. You exhale in relief and return the gesture with no hesitation. He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s inhaling your scent.
Something about this hurts. Your ribcage suddenly feels like a prison, and all you want is for your heart to be free. Why does it feel like something’s stabbing it?
“I’m sorry for asking to come over so late,” he whispers. “And for being a dick about Mark. It’s not my business.”
There’s a twist deep in your chest. You wonder if there’s truly anything left in there.
“It’s okay, Le.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”
You move away from him, lightly grabbing his hand to lead him over to your couch. When you’re both seated, he rests his head on your shoulder. You reach up to play with his hair, and instinct you became familiar with when he needed comfort back when you two were messing around.
“She asked about you.” His fingers toy with yours, warm touch gently grazing your skin. “Really, I had no idea what to say. There isn’t much to say, you know? So, that’s what I said. I told her we’ve been friends for forever and…that’s it.”
“Technically not wrong.” You chuckle, but the ache within you only grows.
“I went to shower and when I got out, she was going through my phone. By the time I realized what she was doing, she’d already found more than enough to be pissed.”
“What was it?”
“Pictures. In our text conversations from like…almost a year ago. I get why she was upset, you know? But it’s not like they were recent. Or even in my camera roll, for fuck’s sake.” He shuffles a bit closer, his warmth pressing into you. “But I should’ve checked and made sure. Or something. So, I’m sorry someone else saw those, (Y/N).”
“Did I look good at least?” you joke.
“Oh, fuck off.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You always look good and you know it.”
You get a sudden, overwhelming urge to look at him. His words make your stomach turn, and you’re desperate to figure out what the hell is going on with you.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He ponders for a moment. “I thought I’d be a little more upset, but the only thing I was really thinking about was coming to see you.”
Chenle sits up, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he takes you in. His gentle brown eyes trail over you, unrecognizable emotions swimming around in his irises. You find him still as extraordinary as ever. His features so sharp, lips perfectly full. You fight the craving to reach out and trace his jawline.
“It’s just…” he murmurs. “It just always comes back to you, doesn’t it?”
“Chenle…”
“It’s been so long,” he continues. “Since I’ve seen you like this.”
“We hung out all the time.”
“No. Not like this. I know why you did, but you got so distant from me. Didn’t you ever think about me? That whole time?” He wets his lips.
“How could you ask me that?” you breathe out. “I thought about you all the time, but you weren’t mine to think about.”
“When I thought of you, it used to hurt. I used to have to distract myself from you because it was wrong to want you when I had everything else.” His gaze flicks down to your lips, and you feel every ounce of you crumble to pieces.
“It’s not…wrong anymore,” you say.
His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours. You let out a shaky breath against him, but quickly reciprocate what he gives you. All hesitation is out the window now, all thoughts of him being too upset at a moment like this fly from your brain.
It’s Chenle. He’s kissing you. This is familiar. Right, even.
“God, it’s been too long.” He reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your skin. “Need you, baby. Never wanna lose you like that again.”
Your heart is beating so fast, you’re not exactly sure how to respond to that. The longer you take in every word leaving his mouth, the quicker you realize what’s happening to you.
You haven’t slept with Mark because you do have feelings for Chenle. It hits you like a freight train, and the fear sinks in only for a second before you slam your lips back to his. Being with him like this feels good, like nothing could go wrong.
The quietest moan slips from his mouth into yours, and just like it used to, heat floods your core. His hand slips beneath your shirt, his scalding touch trailing across your side before settling on the small of your back.
You pull away from him and gently push against his chest. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”
“Need a distraction.” He swallows hard. “That’s what we are for each other right? She’s out of the picture, so I get to have you again?”
You shake your head. “Only when we’re both available. Not just you.”
“Did you fuck him?” Chenle tone drops, a dark hint of jealousy gracing those narrowed brown eyes. One of his hands drops down to your thigh, tracing along the hem of your shorts. “Is that why you don’t want me anymore? He’s better or something?”
You let out a shaky breath. “I—Chenle, I haven’t.”
Wetting his lips, his touch trails higher, his skin burning against yours in the best way. “Don’t you miss me? Or at least the way I made you feel? When’s the last time someone made you cum?”
He notices when your legs press together, desperate for any sort of friction between them. You’re fighting every urge you have, wanting nothing more than to have Chenle right here on your couch, but something holds you back.
Leaning closer, he hums lowly in your ear, “You know what I can do.” His lips press against the spot below your ear, slowly heading down until his tongue runs along your pulse.
“Damn it,” you groan, pushing him back. “Take your pants off.”
As you stand up to push your shorts and panties to the floor, he lifts his hips to push his sweats to down his legs. He reaches into his boxers and strokes himself slowly.
“C’mon, baby.” He smirks at you. “Sit on it.”
You straddle his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls his cock out. One hand grips your hip and he holds you above him.
“Do we need a condom?” he asks, gaze glazed with want.
“I haven’t slept with anyone,” you mutter, face heating up for more reasons than one.
“It was just…” he trails off and gulps. “You know. I’m clean.”
The idea of him with her is almost enough to snap you out of it, but the last thing you plan on doing is getting off his lap. You ignore the sting of your heart and instead trade it for the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate Chenle with no prep. Whining at the pain, you stop after a couple inches.
“S’okay, baby,” he encourages you. “Take it slow.”
You dig your nails into his shoulders, lifting up before sinking back down to take a bit more of him than the last time. He breathes heavily, biting down on his bottom lip while his chest heaves.
“Just a little more.” Chenle slowly pulls you closer until he’s fully seated inside you.
The stretch has your legs shaking, whimpers escaping you as he whispers praises to you.
“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Letting me fill this pretty pussy with my cock.”
Chenle tugs your shirt over your head, freeing your bare breasts. He lets out a small sound at the sight before leaning down to kiss them, teeth nipping and tongue flicking your nipple.
Unable to hold back anymore, you push him back harshly. His lips part as you grind, sweet moans escaping him at the same time yours do.
“So tight,” he groans. “You waited ‘cause you knew no one else could do this to you, huh?”
“Shut up,” you command him.
His eyebrows raise for the briefest moment, until you start bouncing on his cock. Wetness starts squelching around the two of you, aiding you in your quick movements on top of him.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby.” Chenle thrusts up to match you, hands trailing around your body to squeeze your ass harshly. A slap comes next, the sound resounding through the room.
Your hips jolt, thrown off your rhythm at the stinging sensation on your skin. Nails leaving angry, red crescent moons in his skin, you rock back and forth to stabilize yourself before continuing. The sound of your arousal would embarrass you under any other circumstances, but the fucked out expression on Chenle’s face is enough to keep you going.
You don’t hold back your moans, letting the needs of your body take over instead of whatever the hell is going on in your head. He feels so fucking good inside you, the rough slide of his length against your walls, the way he throbs with want for you. The twitch of his cock inside you has a knot tightening in your stomach.
“Look at me,” he says roughly.
You don’t bother listening, too focused on your own pleasure to justify stopping.
“I said fucking look at me.” He grabs your face, pulling you close so you're inches away from him, hooded, hazy brown eyes devouring you. “Keep fucking yourself on my cock.”
You let out a weak moan, legs aching as you continue, but you know you need more. Trying to grind down, you do whatever you can to get friction on your clit. Whines slip past your lips, with the mind-shattering high just out of reach.
“Use your words, pretty girl.” Chenle slaps your ass again.
“Close,” you practically whimper. “Touch me. Fuck, please.”
Immediately, he lets go of his harsh grip on your cheeks, reaching between you two and quickly finding your clit. Your nails scratch down his shoulders, leaving marks as his fast circles push you over the edge.
You scream out in pleasure, your vision blacking out as you’re swept up in your climax. Crumpling into him, you squirm on top of him until he wraps his arm around your waist, warm seed coating your insides.
His chest heaves, lips parting as he rests his head back on the couch cushion. He gulps and strokes your hair while still slowly rocking up into you. You finally work up the energy to get off of him, but he holds you down.
“No,” he murmurs, breathless. “Not yet. Not done.”
Your body heats all over again, the idea of another round sends tingle down your spine. Goosebumps form on your skin, but you listen. Something has to make up for the lost time between you two.
“Need you again.” He nips where your neck and shoulder connects. “Can I take you to your room?”
You nod, unable to speak. He lifts you deftly from the couch, carefully walking over to your room like he’s done hundreds of times before. You hold onto him desperately, never wanting to let him go for more reasons than one.
As soon as you’re both on your bed, he’s already beginning to thrust again. You dig your nails into his back, but he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head.
“Be good,” he warns, filling you up over and over, ever so slowly. “Little pussy’s so greedy, sucking me in like this.”
Your eyes roll back in your head, the weight of him on top of you making you whine until your throat’s raw.
Every nerve-ending is on edge from your previous high, skin tingling and burning wherever his fingers trace shapes on you. You can barely keep your eyes open, the gentle brush of his chest against yours has your weak-minded state reading into this much more than you should.
If you could form actual words, you’d probably accidentally confess to him. He works through his own overstimulation, his jaw clenched tightly as he works your body expertly.
“I missed you,” he whispers, dipping his head down to nip along your neck. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” you force out, barely able to muster up the words. “God, yes.”
He hums, tonguing along the pulse in your neck. “You didn’t fuck him ‘cause he can’t make you feel like this, can he?”
You want to be mad at him for bringing Mark up at a time like this, but his words only make you shiver. He’s right. You can’t be mad at him when he’s right, and certainly not when your brain is fuzzy with the pleasure of his cock rubbing so, so slowly against your inner walls. Nobody could ever fill you like Chenle does.
“Answer me.” He thrusts particularly hard, jolting you up the mattress.
“Fuck, he can’t make me feel like you do.” You’re not entirely sure if your words are coherent, but Chenle seems satisfied by what you said.
“And you’d better remember that, too.” He releases your wrists and reaches between you two, resuming circles on your clit. “Could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Getting your cunt filled with my cum as many times as you can handle?”
You wrap your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close, the angle allowing him slightly deeper inside you. Between the delicious stretch of your walls and the uniform, skilled rubbing on your sensitive bud, your body shudders uncontrollably. Your back arches and your hands fly to his hair, loud, obscene moans pouring from your lips.
Chenle’s thrusts pick up as he helps you ride out your high, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to keep his steady pace. He slows to a stop, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, he kisses you, tongue already slipping past your lips to dominate your mouth the same way he’s dominated the rest of you.
“Think you can get on all fours for me?” he asks, his breath fanning across your face.
“Again?”
“Please, baby, I’m close already, just need a little more.” He presses kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose. “I need it so bad.”
You nod, shakily removing your legs from around his waist. He guides you to the position he wants, your head resting on the mattress as he squeezes your ass.
“You’re still so fucking wet,” he groans, a slap resonating around the room. “Might wanna hold on, pretty girl. I’m not going easy on you.”
Despite being an absolute rag doll, you clench in excitement at the idea of having him inside you again. You push back toward him, urging him to fuck you. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart, and even though they’re shaking, you plan on letting him pound into you until they fucking give out.
He runs the head up and down your folds, switching between barely pushing his tip inside and tapping it on your clit.
“God, I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Chenle growls, and the next thing you know, he’s thrusting inside you with as much force as he can. You scream, gripping onto the sheets and biting down on a pillow to attempt to silence yourself.
With all the stimulation, you feel constantly on the edge of another orgasm. His hips slap against your ass, the clapping sounds emphasizing your pleasure. Squelches of wetness float around too, the stickiness dripping down your thighs onto the bed the longer he has you in this position.
He shifts slightly so his balls smack your twitching clit with every thrust. You’re barely able to think straight, and you’re half-sure you’re drooling, but Chenle slams you into your third orgasm of the night rather easily. Your legs threaten to buckle, and he loops his arm around you to keep you up.
After a couple more thrusts, he moans loudly and spills deep inside you, chest heaving at the effort. Both of you wait in silence for a few moments, him to regain composure and you to remember how to breathe. He gently pulls out of you, turning you to drop your back down on the mattress. Once he gets out of bed, he stops in front of you and pulls you to the edge by your ankles. Nudging your legs apart, he sinks down to his knees.
“What are you doing?” you ask, rising up to your shaky elbows.
“Need a taste,” he says, mesmerized by the mess leaking out of your entrance. Swiping some of it up on his finger, he offers it to you. “Taste us, pretty girl. We’re so good together.”
You lean closer and wrap your lips around him, giving a harsh suck before you release him.
“God, baby, your pussy is so perfect when you’re leaking my cum.”
You’re not expecting him to move forward and flatten his tongue against your core. He holds your hips down to the bed, tentatively licking your slit. Without much effort from him, he’s reduced you to a mewling mess again, core throbbing with sensitivity even when he barely touches you. Your arms immediately give out, slumping you back onto the sheets as he works your core with his tongue.
It’s odd how much the idea of him eating you out when he came inside you turns you on. As limp as your body is, you relish in all of the pleasure he’s willing to give you. His tongue dances around your slit, alternating between slipping it between your folds and flicking your clit. You lazily tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough for him to moan against you.
Your hips jerk when his lips wrap around your bud, and next thing you know, his hands hold you down. You call out his name, pulling with the grip you have on his hair to tell him you’re much too sensitive to continue.
“I know, baby,” he murmurs, blowing cold air on you. “Just a little bit more, okay? One more time.”
And then he’s back at the apex of your thighs, working much faster and harsher with his movements to get you to the edge faster. You shatter all over again, a mantra of noises passing by your lips as your thighs clench around his head.
You must actually black out for a moment, because when you come to, Chenle has pulled away from your core, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression equally as exhausted as yours.
He grabs a towel to clean you up, but both of you are beyond tired from all the activity. You shift up on your bed, not bothering to say anything else to him as you slide beneath your blanket. When you and Chenle did things before, he always stayed. He always pulled you into his chest and whispered sweet nothings into your ear until you fell asleep.
You’re not sure if that will be the case today.
Except he does. He carefully crawls into bed next to you, turning you toward him and pulling you to him. Kissing the top of your head, he taps his fingers against your arm.
“I really missed you,” he says.
“Me, too.” You nod, but something makes your heart twist in your chest.
“Can I be honest for a second?”
“Of course.”
“I knew the pictures were there,” he whispers. “Maybe it’s shitty, but I couldn’t delete them. Sometimes, I looked back at our old conversations—not the sexual ones—and just…thought of you. I couldn’t do anything to erase you and what we did from my life. I didn’t want to.”
You wonder if that’s his idea of a confession. If he’s trying to tell you he has unresolved feelings for you.
“Then why did you stay with her?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Everyone liked her. My mom told me she thought I’d end up marrying her. She obviously didn’t know about…this. But I couldn’t fucking stop, (Y/N). Everything came back to you.”
“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” you offer. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah…” Chenle takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s talk in the morning.”
You and Chenle wake at the same time, to the sound of his phone on the bedside table. Groaning, you massage your forehead and turn away from him. When he answers it, your interest is piqued.
“Hey.” Sleep still weighs on his voice, making it scratchy. “No, I’m not at home.”
There’s a pause, and the vague sound of the other person responding makes your heart twist violently in your chest. It’s her.
“Would you stop jumping to conclusions? I’m at Jisung’s.” Irritation laces in his tone.
You should say something. Let her know somehow that he’s lying, but you don’t. You stay silent in your hurt and wait to see what he could possibly do next.
“Yeah, forgive me for not wanting to be alone after what happened.” Chenle scoffs and runs his fingers through his hair. A sigh follows. “Damn it, I told you that was done. I’m sorry you saw those, okay? They’re from…over a year ago. It didn’t seem relevant to bring it up, and she’s still my friend, so.”
Friend. You almost laugh out loud, but again, you don’t say a word.
“Yeah, of course. Where?”
Another pause from Chenle.
“Yeah, I’ll stop by my house and then I’ll be over there. I’ll see you in half an hour?”
Your heart feels like it’s being shredded into a thousand tiny pieces.
“Thank you.” He sighs, his body deflating. “I’m so sorry for all of this, you know that, right? I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
Tears sting your eyes, and as soon as he hangs up the phone, he hops up to go grab his clothes from the living room. You sit up in your bed, blanket clutched to your chest as you watch him scramble to get dressed.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I have to go,” he says, walking back into your room. Leaning in, he attempts to press a kiss to your lips. You turn away from him, chewing the inside of your cheek.
“Where are you going?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.
“She…She wants to talk it out. And I have to go. You understand why, right?” His eyes widen as he scans over your face.
When you say nothing, he sighs.
“I’ll text you later. You can answer or not. Whatever you want to do.” He walks toward the door to your bedroom, but you stop him when he reaches the threshold.
Your eyes sting, your body’s sore, and all you wanted was to tell him the truth this morning. Now it’s clear to you—he’ll never feel the same way for you. He’ll drop anything and everything—you included—if it meant getting her back.
��Chenle.”
He stops, turning to you.
“She’s going to make you choose,” you warn him. “Between her and me.”
Chenle pauses, fingertips gripping the frame. “I know.”
With that, you have nothing else to say, and he wouldn’t have time to hear it anyway. He leaves without another word to you, and when he’s far enough away, your tears finally fall. You want to scream and yell, but your throat is too raw from the long night before to even attempt it.
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muldermuse · 4 months
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Guardian Angel (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)
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this was based on a prompt i recieved!
18+ only!! mdni!! warning: reader is briefly knocked unconscious in the fic! not by Gator but by an anonymous male who is never named/identified. mentions of bad childhood/abusive parents. mentions of police brutality. mentions of smut. being in a hospital/back of an ambulance. Gator and Roy are threatening in this and mean about reader. Angst!!! lil bit of fluff! more angst?? Unhappy ending (no character deaths tho do not worry)
I’m sorry :/
Part of the two sinners works! Read more here!
Gator Tillman had no choice but to become a Sheriff, he idolised his Father and saw the respect that surrounded him. No one ever questions Roy Tillman; at least, not if they value their own life. Gator had witnessed firsthand the brutality that his father inflicted on his community when wearing the badge. One of Gator’s happiest childhood memories was his daddy letting him wear his cowboy hat and his Sheriff’s badge. Roy Tillman’s eyes were full of pride as he looked as his young son, “you’ll make a fantastic Sheriff one day, boy”. Any other dreams that young Gator were quashed in that moment, ever since that day when his Father looked at him and saw the potential Gator could grow up to have- he knew he had to be a Sheriff. 
Unfortunately, Gator Tillman never wanted to be a good Sheriff. He didn’t actually care about helping people or being a beacon of hope for his community. Gator, like his Father, loved the power that came with the badge. Without it, he was some loser daddy’s boy but with it; he felt he was unstoppable. As much as Roy Tillman ignored his son, he knew him too well and he knew what little ability Gator actually had. So, Gator was always on the quietest shifts and he was always paired with an older colleague who could actually do the job. In his father’s eyes; Gator was still a little kid playing dress up. So here he is, browsing the disposable vape collection in his local gas station to fill the time until he can clock out. The clerk looks away and Gator slips a watermelon mango flavour into his pocket. He throws a few dollars on the counter and takes a bag of Takis before heading back to the patrol car. Maybe he can convince his patrol partner to drive him to a diner to get a coffee to kill a few more hours or maybe he’ll have an uncomfortable nap across the back seat.
Then a call comes in. 
“Dispatch, please respond. We have a call for assistance at The Outpost Bar about 4 minutes from your current location. Seems that an altercation between two men has escalated and a young lady has got hurt, ambulance is nearly there as she’s knocked out”.
Gator picks up the radio as his colleague starts speeding to the bar, “Heard- name of victim?”. 
Bile rises in his throat and he feels his stomach drop. 
It’s your name.
Before he can even process what has happened; the patrol car arrives on the scene and sees the ambulance outside the front of the bar. 
He knows his job is to find the guy who’s done this and get him in the back of the car. He knows the ambulance and the paramedics are there to help you. But he also knows that you’re currently unconscious on the floor of a shitty dive bar and that’s all he can focus on. His heart is thundering in his ears as he runs into the bar, his colleague is shouting his name after him to try and discuss a plan before entering the bar. He needs to see you, what if the call was wrong? You never mentioned that you’d be heading out tonight. You never really tell him anywhere you’re going though. He wishes you would but he can’t think about that now. 
The inside of the bar is nearly empty, the lights are up and there’s a group of women stood around someone lying on the floor. The shoes he can see are a pair of black boots- has he ever seen you wear those? Would you wear something like that? The thought in his head are moving too quick for him to comprehend. He tries to make his way over to the huddle of women on the floor but he sees a familiar face first. It’s Jenson Ackerley, the guy you brought to the church pot luck, the guy that you’d told Gator you never planned on seeing again after blowing him off for him. Gator had seen a few texts from Jenson pop up on your phone but you were seemingly quick to ignore them. He’s stood at the bar, he’s holding his head in his hands and looks relieved when he sees law enforcement come in.
“Thank god you’re here, they fuckin’ ran off after they shoved her. She hit her head and then they fuckin’ ran off. She’s breathin’ fine so sh-“ he sounds relieved as he speaks, the words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’s a concerned partner. You’re not his partner, Gator isn’t either but he’s closer to it than this fucking guy. A rage flushes across his face as Gator grabs Jenson’s plaid shirt in his fists and pushes him against the concrete wall of the bar. He spits at Jenson’s feet before speaking to him, “What the fuck happened? Why the fuck didn’t you step in? Some fuckin’ quarterback huh?” He shoves him harder; feeling rejoice in the nerves filling Jenson’s eyes "Lettin’ her get hit while you just fuckin’ stand there holdin’ your fuckin' dick?”. Jenson’s face contorts in confusion, he tries to respond before Gator punches him hard in his lower stomach. He grabs Jenson’s cheeks and pushes his head further into the cold, hard concrete of the wall as he whispers low in his ear “I fuckin’ swear on my fuckin’ Dad’s life- if something happens to her, I’ll fuckin’ kill you”. The hard grip of his hand gets tighter on Jenson’s face, Jenson’s face would be flushing red if it were not for the fact that all blood seems to have drained from his face with nerves. Gator’s smirk is predatory, “‘m a fuckin’ Sheriff y’know- I can make it look like an accident”.
He can hear your voice, it’s mumbled and strained- but it is distinctly you.
Gator turns that quick he feels a bout of nausea hit him, it’s doubled when he sees you being moved out of the dingy bar on a stretcher. You look confused but a flash of recognition and reassurance flutters through your expression when you realise it’s him.
“Gator?” Your voice is slow as if your wading through thick molasses to whisper his two syllable name. He grabs your hand, it’s ice cold and he knows that it’s the shock your poor body has been through this evening. Your hand meekly trembles in his and it occurs to Gator that he’s never seen you as vulnerable as this. 
“Yeah-yeah it’s me, hi” His voice is the softest it’s ever been with you as he tenderly presses a hand to your face. This isn’t the same man who two days ago called you a whore as you rode his cock in his Daddy’s bed and this certainly isn’t the man who’s last text simply told you to fuck off and leave him alone. This isn’t your Gator. But right now, this isn’t you. When you look back, you both won’t recognise the other in this moment.
But fiercely, you’ll both take the tenderness right now. You both desperately need it.
Gator will come to always crave it.
*** 
He insisted to his colleague that he’d go with you in the ambulance. The paramedic was too preoccupied with checking your vitals to notice that Gator held your hand the entire way. When tears filled your eyes due to pure confusion about your current situation, he’d press a soft kiss to your under eyes and mumble to you that it was going to be okay. He wasn’t leaving your side until it was all okay- he promised.
“I swear on it, okay baby. Me and you” he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it. Tenderly, he moves your hair out of your face as you nod in agreement. You wanted to believe him with every ounce of your body and soul but your mouth is too dry to beg him to stay; you’re not sure if you’re asking for tonight or for forever.
Gator’s watching you intently, he’s memorising the different parts of your face- just in case. Of course nothing’s going to happen to you, he’s sure of it. But just in case, he’s logging to his memory the soft curve of your lips, always a little pouty and so fucking pretty when you wear that lip gloss that drives him wild. The little furrow in your brow, always more prominent when you’re worried or plotting how you can try and fuck up Gator’s week by saying something calculating.
Your eyes flicker shut as the paramedic rests a hand on Gator’s shoulder, “you’re a good boyfriend. Half the guys don’t even want to come in the back and the others usually try to calm themselves rather than their partners. You’re a good man”. The irony isn’t missed on him, he is someone’s boyfriend but he’s not yours. His girlfriend has never received this tenderness from him. Gator Tillman is a lot of things but he is definitely not a good man. In this moment, however, he is trying to be. 
He doesn’t thank the paramedic, he just nods and keeps your small hand in his. He doesn’t want his mind to wander and consider how things would be if you were in a relationship. You’d drive him mad, he’s sure of it but with Glenda; he feels nothing. He considers that at least anger is an emotion. Better than an emotionally vacant relationship. 
The ambulance comes to a sudden stop and he feels your hand grip his tighter, your eyes are open and as the paramedic works to open the door; Gator is reassuring you that everything’s going to be okay. 
“Promise that you’ll stay?” your voice is hesitant and soft. You feel emotionally exposed right now and it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling.
Gator presses a kiss to your forward quickly, conscious of the paramedic trying to get your stretcher out of the vehicle and onto a ward. “Of course baby, as soon as they find you a room- I’ll be there. Okay? I swear it”. You begin to cry as you nod and Gator desperately wants to kiss you more to console you but you’re wheeled out before he gets the chance.
Your hands are pulled apart as your stretcher gets wheeled into the hospital. He’s lost in his thoughts until a familiar authoritative voice booms behind him.
“Gator?”
It’s his father.
Gator feels the blood drain from his body and he tries to stop his hands trembling before he turns around.
Roy’s hands are on his hips as he glares at Gator. He’s dressed in his usual cowboy hat and denim jacket. His father’s presence always makes Gator nervous. With one look from Roy Tillman, Gator is transported back to being a four year old meek child who had accidentally broken a vase, terrified of his father’s reaction but simultaneously in awe of the authoritarian berating him for his mistake. He’d seen them holding hands, Gator takes a second to thank the lord that that is all his father had seen.
His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, he can’t speak and if he could; he doesn’t even know what he would say. There’s no reason for it. Why would he be holding your hand? Why would he travel in the back of the ambulance with you? It isn’t protocol and, for all Roy knows, Gator does not like you. He isn’t even supposed to know you. His father had warned Gator about you from the first time he had seen you. 
“She’s a sinner that girl- I don’t want her corrupting you. Showing you her worldly ways, you are not to speak to her- y’hear me?” What Roy didn’t know is by that time, you’d already started sleeping together. Both of you taking the time to learn each other’s bodies intimately. You made Gator feel things he never had before but that didn’t matter- you were a dirty sinner. It never crosses Gator’s mind that he could be a sinner too.
The paramedic reemerges from the hospital and before Gator can intercept, she tells him that ‘his girlfriend’ is on ward 6. 
“I’ve told her that you’ll be up soon to see her. She’s still a bit upset so maybe head up after you’ve finished speaking with the Sheriff” the paramedic is kind. Her words are soft and considered and her eyes look up at Gator as if he’s a great man. He hopes that this paramedic will keep Gator in her mind as an attentive and considerate partner. She may be the only person who would ever think of Gator Tillman in that way. Roy smiles at the paramedic but it doesn’t meet his eyes; Gator realises that his smile never does. 
After she leaves, there’s a moment of silence. It feels too long and uncomfortable.
***
“I don’t know what’s happenin’ with you and that girl b-“
“Dad” Gator scoffs, as if the idea is ridiculous “nothin’s happenin’. I answered the call so I was there and y’know, I’m the Sheriff- it’s my job to make sure she’s safe. Well, not ju-“
Roy takes Gator’s shirt in his fists and slams him against the wall of the hospital. The thud of Gator’s head hitting the concrete echoes across the vacant space. Roy spits in Gator’s face as he whispers sternly, “Do not fuckin’ lie to me. You’re a worse fuckin’ liar than your fuckin’ mother”.
He can’t speak, as hard as Gator’s mouth tries to form words, it lets him down and makes him look weak in front of his father. Just as he did when he was younger; Gator takes the emotional beating from his father.
“You got a good christian woman at home and I don’t think that Glenda would want to hear about you in the back of an ambulance with her- agree?”
He nods, his mind is empty as all he feels is blind panic. Will Roy tell Glenda? As soon as he loses her, he loses his father’s approval- something he’s spent years cultivating. He can’t lose her; it’s not a choice. Roy robs him of the chance to speak.
Roy’s hand is firm on Gator’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the flesh. “What have I told you from day one about that girl, son?”. His eyes are unwavering on his son’s, Gator realises he has not seen his dad blink throughout this entire interaction.
“That she’s a sinner” it comes out too easy and Roy smirks in response. He’s made his father happy and he feels he can speak again. His chest not as tight as it felt a few moments ago.
Roy’s hand gets tighter on Gator’s shoulder and it begins to feel uncomfortable. “Tell me what you think of her” he nods to prompt Gator to speak. Gator briefly imagines if he could tell him the truth, how would he describe what he thinks of you? He’s unsure if he even allows himself to think about you when you’re apart. The thought of you living unfiltered in his mind is far too much. You need to be a box locked away in Gator’s depraved mind. There’s no key because it never needs opening.
He stutters as he goes to speak, “well…we all know what she’s like right? She’s a fuckin’ whore” Roy nods in encouragement as a shy smile breaks across Gator’s face. “Yeah, I mean, she’s probably dating about 10 different guys- right? I mean, I saw her with Jenson and then with some other fuckin’ guy like two days later. Glenda doesn’t like ‘er- thinks the same as me”.
Roy is content, his grip on his son’s shoulder eases as he smiles brightly at Gator. “We’re not gonna look for the guys that did this- didn’t happen. You were doin’ a routine check at the bar and that’s it. I’ve already told Williams that that’s what’s happened- I’ve sorted it for you, son”
Son.
That one syllable word is a warm blanket on a cold night. A ice cold glass of water in the hottest desert. A three course meal after a day of raw hunger.
Roy leads Gator away from you, he sits him in the patrol car and drives him home to Glenda. Glenda kisses his cheek softly at the doorway. She’s made a home cooked meal for her hardworking man. The meal tastes like ash on Gator’s tongue. He drinks whiskey to help him sleeps more than usual.
Meanwhile, you are laid alone in a hospital bed. Holding out hope that Gator will return, hopefully with the affection from the ambulance. But of course, Gator doesn’t come back to your room.
You don’t see him again whilst you're in the hospital.
He doesn’t text you for two weeks.
He turns up one late night when you’re back home, he asks if you’re ‘all good’ and you reply that you’ll be fine. You have sex that night and never acknowledge how tender he was to you in your time of need. You’re both rougher than usual, both craving to dominate the other and fuck them into submission. You have to make up for the unjustified kindness.
***
You never see how Gator spends his time off work. When he’s not with you, or with Glenda, or working- he’s trying to find out who did this to you.
He won’t stop searching until the person who did this is found in a ditch.
But you will never know.
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
Note
Just the idea of clone Danny and clone Talia working out much bette then him and Talia would confuse poor Bruce. And best part all 4 of them don'T believe he is batman Danny: "We know he is your Sugarbaby, Mom and dad talked about it." Clone Talia:" So no fear, my OG liked a Himbo. And well Danny is a one too."
FR THO AND THEN THERE’S BABY DAMES IN THE CORNER SWEATING BECAUSE HE KNOWS. HE KNOWS. THE LoA TOLD HIM. He’s not saying SHIT though because this is hilarious. He’s silently laughing in the corner. And yessss Clone Danny and Clone Talia working out much better is exactly why I thought of it -- because one its funny and two the potential angst. the could have been.
It doesn't ever occur to Bruce to tell them he's batman but that conversation still comes up during mealtime one day while Danny's recovering (he has to be tied to his chair because he found the gym and nearly dislocated his shoulder trying to train. Dammit Danny your bones are made of glass right now from destabilizing, let your cells repair before doing anything!) because the four of them were talking about Batman and his clan of kids.
Danny, frowning: im not a himbo?
Nasra: reportedly when you first met Damian, your first response to his attacking you was to... grab the blade with your hands, multiple times. This resulted in you slicing a nerve in both hands and permanently weakening your fine motor control.
Danny: well--
Nasra: even now you're rubbing your palms, you only do that when your hands are bothering you.
Damian, snapping his head up: what!?
Danny: you noticed that?? also i learned. I didn't repeat myself when you attacked me when we met, did I?
Nasra: i. suppose not. you're still a himbo, however.
also Danny does his usual 'run on negative sleep' bullshit while in the manor except now he has not only damian but also Nasra tag-teaming his bullshit. Like no, Danny. you need sleep to recover your strength. your ghostly investigation can wait until you're not about to pass out and break your nose on your laptop. They have whole ass arguments in arabic - all three of them - as damian AND nasra drag danny to the closest soft horizontal surface. Danny returns the favor to the both of them when those two are also doing their 'negative sleep' stuff.
Dick at bby Dames: so do you....
Damian: know that you guys are Batman and his family? Yeah. Grandfather and Mother told me before I was living with Danny.
Tim: how come Danny and Nasra don't know then?
Damian: I didn't think it was important to tell Danny that his original was Batman. He does know of the League, however. He calls Grandfather my "super evil, ecofascist grampa and his cult of killers" and doesn't want to know more out of worry of needing to get involved.
Dick: I - really?
Damian: yes, he figured that since grandfather had yet to successfully wipe out my original, then that whatever Damian Wayne was doing was working. And that if he knew more, then he might have to get involved, and he has own problems to worry about than the League of Assassins.
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annymation · 5 months
Text
Reimagining the characters in Wish
(Part 1- Asha)
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Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.
But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.
But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.
But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.
If you’re interested, then come along!
Asha✨
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Personality
- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself
- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them
- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook
- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?
- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends
- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)
- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda
Main Traits:
Calm and mature
Determined
Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)
Helpful and generous
Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)
Playful
Compassionate
Backstory
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Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go
Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby
(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)
Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher
Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books
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In other words, her mom was an animator
Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”
Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.
This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas
In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…
At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”
So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.
But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.
Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age
Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.
Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling
The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.
But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.
With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.
Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.
This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.
Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.
But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.
Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”
Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.
Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.
However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.
Design
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- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art
- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)
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- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.
Final Thoughts
My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.
The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.
Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.
Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.
She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.
She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.
I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:
I want to be free from these palace walls!
I want to explore the ocean!
I want to open a restaurant!
I want to find true love!
And then there’s Asha here like
“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”
And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.
Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.
But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!
Thank You For Reading!
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lookitsstevie · 3 months
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Just wondering! What ships do you have for Hazbin? (canon and fanon) Just curious and as always your art is spectacular!!!💕
Hello! First of all thank you so much for your kind words 🥹
Ummm I'm not very deep in HH fandom, but my dearest @naromoreau forced me (lovingly) into huskerdust asdfkjskfs I think they're very cute, and as much as I loved their dynamic before ep 4 (well it's just Angel dust not respecting Huskers boundaries, but I'll be honest. annoyed kitty is adorable) I'm happy with them being genuinely good friends now. I can see the romance blooming later too (they def need some time tho) and the ✨angst✨ when one of them gets to be an angel hehehehehheehhhh
For other ships, I LOVE Charlie and Vaggie but Vaggie and Lute (as one sided love from lute) have such a toxic yuri potential akfjskfjskdjk I'm not big on other popular ships but Lucifer and Lilith's size difference is very endearing to me... Also one of my favorite side characters is Velvette and I badly want her to have a girlfriend. Carmilla maybe. hope my queen gets a girlfriend in S2
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koolades-world · 3 months
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Ok so I've randomly had this genius idea and was keeping it in my head for a month or so. And i for some reason had an urge to find someone to make this thing. And YOU got unlucky to be in my FYP with open requests! Poor you, now you are cursed with this request! (Also ur writing is cool, but im suck at giving compliments~)
Imagine being a one of the most powerful demons in entire devildom, falling from heaven, going through a war.. and you just meet a human, who is crying because of a paper scratch! That's the request!:
Brothers with Pain-sensitive MC/MC with Algophobia if you prefer.♡
Ahem🤓👆, Algophobia is a phobia of pain. No one likes getting hurt, but algophobic person is afraid of it more than normal ppl. Also Algophobia makes all pain feel even more painful because if the fear🤓👆
These two are pretty much the same, but Algophobia one has more angst potential than just "Pain-sensitive"
This thing sounds just so hilarious in my head, imagine after MC does something bad Lucifer wants to punish them, but then he remembers that this human uses cooking gloves to drink coffee because "its way to hot" and ends up with existential crisis because all of his punishments will turn Pain-sensitive MC into dust😭
I saw a lot of ppl headcanoning that demons are like "well, humans are fragile and easily will die!" and starting to think that human is dying when they broke a bone. Thats funny, but imagine what would happen if it ACTUALLY were like that. Mammon wants to get MC to the casino, but then sees how they slip and fall to their knees and the crying because "FFFFF MY KNEEEEES HURT😭😭😭" And he is just like..."Damn, bro, how u live like this" and ends up way to afraid to bring them to the casino bc of "eeevil demons that would eat them!".
Also i imagine that Levi would do something similar, but, lets agree that him asking MC to go somewhere is an impossible scenario. I think he will do a good job tho.
Satan and MC hanging out in the garden with cats and this dude, who can easily broke the entire house if he gets angry, casually watching this piece of human struggling to pet a cat bc of their shaking hands. "Come on, just pet it, u got it, MC." "but cats have claws and claws are paaaainful!!!!"
Asmo is probably the only one who will have no problem with that, lol. This dude loves saying about being gentle. Yeah, not surprising that i simp for him. But dynamic between Devildom's biggest slut and a Human, who never kissed with anyone because "well, if i am kissing someone, I can't tell if the person is not gonna get a knife a d won't stub me! and stubbing ppl is painful!" sounds hilarious.
Beel is a big cinnabun, we all can agree. But yhis cinnabun is so big, that it can easily hurt MC accidentally! Even average people often cause ain-sensitive MC pain, and someone as big and strong babyboy like Beel? Damn, poor big man and MC, who waits for hot food to cool down for 15 minutes before eating it because "hot food is painful!"
Belphegor probably will do okay.. i mean, if we ignore 16 lesson.. he is pretty gentle boy so i guess he won't do anything bad. But, i can still imagine how this dude might hurt MC in his sleep and when wakes up and sees them, ouch-ing and rubbing their cheek, because "you were asleep and accidentally hit my cheek.." while this dude was just changing his sleeping pose.
So you can make something fluffy with brothers trying to not-hurt Pain-sensitive MC accidentally, you can do it in memes, you can do some angst with Algophobia. You can do whatever you want, i give the idea, you use it if you want!~
Damn, this think came out like a whole ass post. But i hope you didn't got bored halfway, lol.
Have a nice day tho!~~~
hi! haha I didn’t get bored you understand me!! I absolutely love when someone is just as excited as me about an idea :) this is exactly what I do when I have an idea I love so much I want to squeeze it in a good way
glad you like my writing 🥺 <3 please enjoy!
Mc with Algophobia
Lucifer
he knows right off the bat because it was on your paperwork (creepy) but makes accommodations where he can (loving)
essentially baby proofs the house right after you arrive once he realizes you’re being serious including padding on every sharp corner
always has a first aid kit on hand because he’s worried about you and won’t hesitate to offer you all the time off you need
finds himself unconsciously making sure you're ok
Mammon
didn't take you seriously at first until you almost started crying upon reach into the freezer to help defrost Goldie yet again
wants to help you with your fear, and unveils all of his stupid fears to you, including his fear of public water fountains
when you're not together, he has his crows keep an eye on you for him to make sure you're ok
often opts to stay home with you if it makes you more comfortable
Levi
so so chill about it since he himself is afraid of many things, and while not paralyzing, goes out of his way to avoid all these things
lets you know the door to his room will always be open for you if you need a place to relax for the hour or day
protective of you in a way he never felt before
ready to listen to your woes and try to help resolve them for you
Satan
to some extent, he understands what it's like to be misunderstood and he goes out of his way to boost your confidence
knows some amazing professionals that might be able to help you out if you want
works on himself and his outbursts to keep you safe and unafraid <3
holds your hand as often as he gets the chance to reassure both you and himself that you won't get separated and avoid any potential problems
Asmo
100% finds many excuses to kiss your booboos
finds all sorts of fun cute ways to make sure you don't get hurt and stay happy
if you get hurt around him, he's on top of it and upset too since he hates to see you unhappy
whatever you need, he's got you covered. he carries some of you things in his handbag that he always has with him in case you need it
Beel
doesn't understand at first, but is more cautious around you
he knows humans are fragile but he severely underestimated your fear
however, he's willing to do anything that you need from him
he knows his strength and always finds himself moving slower and more protective around you
Belphie
at first, he couldn't have cared less but after he got to know you, he felt extremely guilty about what he had done
does everything to make it up to you and prevent you from getting hurt again
expect lots of gifts that include nice blankets and cute bandaids
finds his way to your room in the middle of the night often to make sure you're fine and then stays (he's totally not just sleepwalking)
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