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#also this haircut? next level.

stsgluver · 9 months

Text

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!!#gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles

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jjkeremika · 6 months

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AoT men in your class hit on you

description: you’re in classes with the men from attack on titan; they try to flirt with you.

pairing: reiner x reader, armin x reader, connie x reader, jean x reader, eren x reader, levi x reader, erwin x reader, zeke x reader, galliard x reader

*unspecified gendered reader*

Reiner

Reiner flashed you his prettiest smile, the one he’d practiced in the mirror on occasion, the one he knew looked nice. The smile was contagious, sparking a small smile to grow on your face as you peered at him out of the corner of your eyes.

He’d keep the smile as he’d scratch at the back of his neck, asking, “Want to study together for the next quiz?” Reiner would flex his bicep a little more, raise his eyebrow and smirk seductively, run his hand through his shirt blond hair. “I’ll test you. Tonight”

Armin

You were surprised when Armin asked for your help with studying. He’d been scoring the highest in the class until recently, which you had assumed to have been a fluke.

Armin would curl his toes into the ground and bite the inside of his lip as the heat rushed to his face, as he lied about his level of understanding and hoped you’d believe it. Hoped you’d spend extra time with him, one-on-one.

“If you have the time,” he’d added cautiously, your silence unsettling him. “There’s no pressure, but Id repay you however you… please…” He swallowed hardly, you watched his adam’s apple bob. “However… unconventional.”

Connie

Connie would scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment, faux-confidence reeking off his skin as he flexed his muscles and tried to appear solid. The light sheen of sweat and pink blush across his cheeks exposed the truth, but you were willing to look past it because it was so warm out.

“Hey, y/n…” His usually loud voice was quieter today, a usually unbound announcement finally directed towards someone—you, “how are you feeling for this next quiz? I-I can help you if you need it.”

You couldn’t stifle the laugh in time before it was bubbling off your lips, making Connie’s face darker but also causing him to chuckle a little too. “H-hey, why is that so funny?”

Jean

Jean always tried too hard to impress you. Fumbling the ball because he checked to see if you watched him catch it; missed the goalpost because he focused on you being on the sideline and not the direction of the ball; wiped out during the mile run because he spent more time waving at you than watching the trail.

You tended to any wounds after, unsure if the blush that intimately graced his face was from the embarrassment of failing or the fact that your hands were on his body or both. Maybe it was on purpose, always needing your help.

Both yours and his gazes were fixed onto his ankle, where your hands were slowly and wrapping a bandage around the bruised skin. "Thank you... for always helping," Jean uttered coyly, looking up to make eye contact, his skin warm. "Maybe I can return the favor somehow." He looked away, the pink turning a deep red, but his fingertips were brushing your upper-arm. "Help you..."

Eren

Eren had sat next to you today, waving slightly. You greeted him and Mikasa as she sat on his other side. "Hey," he greeted softly, "did... did you get a haircut?"

"Yeah," you nodded, running your hand through the strands quickly. He blushed and looked away, facing the table.

"He thinks you look nice," Mikasa said plainly, smiling at you from behind him, which prompted him to look at her in a flash of horror and embarrassment and whisper-shouted, "Mikasa! Stop!"

You laughed, the magnetic sound pulling Eren's attention back towards you. "I think you look nice too, Eren," you complimented, biting your lip shyly.

He froze for a moment, struggling to remember how to breathe. "I, uh, um," he started, swallowing in between, "You look... nicer."

"He'd think you'd look nicer on a date together," Mikasa chirped from behind him, settling into the chair. He shouted at her again, the blush deepening.

Levi

Since you normally spent time in a group, having it be just you and Levi felt a little awkward. Most of the time he didn't speak anyway and you silently traced his features, appreciated each angle. You fiddled with a ring as you debated topics to bring up, wondered if he wanted to even speak to you at all. That was the thing with him. You had no idea where you stood.

You had opened your mouth to speak when he interrupted, "Did you get a haircut?" Same tone as always, but he was looking at you now with that iron gaze, the one that sucked the air out between them like a vacuum.

You hummed and nodded. "It looks nice." He reached his hand out and briefly touched the loose strand in front of your ear. "Suits you."

Erwin

Erwin had called out your name in the hallway to grasp your attention, his tight t-shirt immediately catching your eyes as he rushed over to you. It didn't help that he was so tall, and your eyes met at his nipples, and his shirt was so tight.

He repeated your name which caused your attention to move from his chest to his lips. He'd said something. You weren't paying attention. Shit.

"Sorry, what?" you asked sheepishly, blushing from embarrassment. Because it was him, the guy who always gave off the perfect persona, the guy who didn't need to ask because he was always listening.

Erwin laughed and repeated his offer to carry your textbooks to class, taking them from your hands before you could respond and walking alongside you.

Then you watched him unintentionally ignore a friend, someone who tried to say hi to him but he was oblivious to it. You couldn't explain it, but the fact that he didn't hear it made your palms sweat. You thought he was always aware, always listening.

But maybe that was just because he was always listening to you.

Zeke

You had fallen into step with Zeke after Jean and Eren ran off together, racing and arguing over some obsolete, absurd test of masculinity.

"Are you going to join them?" you asked him jokingly, pointing towards the immature boys trying to trip the other one as they both ran.

Zeke sighed, "I'd hoped you knew me better than that." He slumped his shoulders dramatically, and clutched his hand over his heart. "Oh, how your words wound me."

You rolled your eyes. "You're so dramatic, just like your brother." Zeke scoffed as you shrugged. "But that just means it runs in the family. Besides, you're way more mature than your brother. Like, he's not even on the board. So--"

"You are quite mature... and remarkable," he interrupted. You blushed, automatically retorting with a sarcastic commend, "Okay, well I didn't say you were remarkable."

"I'd like to be," he said plainly, stopping to look at you, "to be remarkable to you. To mean something to you."

Galliard

Normally Galliard only approached you on days where Reiner was all over you, picking on Reiner in front of you every chance he got, puffing his chest out slightly whenever you laughed.

Today, though, you were sat at your desk alone when he walked over and sat in front of you. “Hey, Porco,” you greeted, smiling, originally intending to quickly glance up but your irises caught on his and now they felt tethered.

“Good morning, y/n,” he replied smoothly, his tone different when Reiner wasn’t around, when it was just you two. It was silent for a moment, the only sign of time passing being the other students moving around you. “Heard Reiner asked you out. Wanted to hear what charity you were a part of that made you say yes.”

You laughed, covering your mouth in embarrassment when other students looked at you. He smirked, a light pink embracing his cheeks. "We should go out sometime," he added, winking, "Whatever time Reiner's thing is."

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg

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jungkook97 · 6 months

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and if you let me;; jjk

pairing: non idol!coworker jungkook x reader

word count: 1.9k

rating: teens & up!

genre: romance & fluff, cheesy confession, jungkook is a nervous guy in luv, also is silly, dorky, sweet, etc. (all the adjectives!)

summary: it was your last day at work and jungkook, who has a big fat crush on you, throws a going away party before you go.

notes: there's hardly any plot lmao it's just a hit of dopamine/feels i guess HAHAHAH :) i love him so much and my feelings are at an all-time high with the new gcf that came out!!

this is for nei (@melancholy-of-nadia)!!! luv u!!

Jungkook was annoyed. Very annoyed.

As you howled in laughter at Hoseok’s antics, Jeon Jungkook was in his little corner, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

It wasn’t that he was jealous. In fact, Jungkook was pretty confident and had somewhat normal self-esteem levels, but he felt like he was running out of time.

Running out of time for what, you ask? Confessing his love to you.

It was an open secret on the office floor that Jungkook had the biggest and loudest crush on you, making it real clear to all the guys in the office that you were the love of his life (on the clock, anyway). He liked people who were great at their jobs, and you were, to say the least, great at it. As your new boss and your guys’ boss fought for dominance to get you as an employee, it was clear that you were irreplaceable in the workplace, and that somehow made you even sexier to Jungkook.

At first, it was all a physical thing. You were a looker with brains and a dry humor that Jungkook appreciated in a workplace filled with kiss-assers. It was easy to flirt with you, and it seemed like you were 110% flirting back, which, a few months down the road, got Jungkook to freak out.

Surely, it was one thing to flirt with coworkers nonchalantly and another to deliberately be a boy loser about it. He was down bad at the 3-month mark and found himself counting the days when you would return to your cubicle, which conveniently was next to his.

Every day, he swung by your desk trying to be smooth, only to trip up somehow. Whether it be the intonation of his voice or him tripping over his own feet, he would kick himself silly mentally before lamenting to his best friend and work confidant, Kim Namjoon at the water cooler hours later.

“I swear I cannot walk around her!” Jungkook would sigh loudly, swirling his coffee stirrer as Namjoon chuckled, leaning against the counter before patting his coworker on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude. I’m sure she doesn’t even notice it like you do,” Namjoon would reassure him even though he knew you would eventually find out (you would of course, but unaware how deep Jungkook’s love for you was).

A year would swing by until you finally broke the news to the office that you would be leaving for another job with higher pay, and it felt like Jungkook’s world came crashing down. How could he continue working at this job if you weren’t next to him, giggling at his stupid jokes and his stupid short haircut that he specifically cut to make himself look even hotter for you? How could he possibly get through several rounds of meetings if you two weren’t playing tic-tac-toe on the memo pad the two of you would share? Or the times when Jungkook would go out of his way to the coffee shop to get your usual honey oatmilk latte from Urth Caffé? Or the time Jungkook would time his lunches so he could sit with you for the whole hour?

And so, Jungkook devised a plan to break the “news” that he was in love with you, hoping that you would feel the same way. He orchestrated the going away party first, going to a KBBQ spot with your closest coworkers before doing karaoke with drinks. Because how else was Jungkook going to relax around you?

Jungkook could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest as you giggled at his innocent joke about Hoseok’s dance moves as your delicate head leaned against his wide shoulders. His stomach lurched forward as he coughed to cover his nervousness up, pouring yet another glass of soju for the two of you. You gladly took it, clinking the glass against his before taking a swig, and swallowing the alcoholic contents as you clung into Jungkook for the next hour.

Jungkook was elated of course, but he didn’t wanna give much away, closing his lips together as he thumped his fingers against the table, encouraging your former coworkers to drink more.

An hour passed and you were blasted, still hollering and hooting for the dancers, Hoseok and Jimin, to continue as karaoke night came at a fever pitch. At this point, you and Jungkook were inseparable, and he has made major moves to the level of your comfort: 1) putting his arm behind you and 2) crossing his legs so he could tap his feet against yours.

As you hummed quietly to yourself, you shivered at the cold air coming through the AC. Jungkook saw and immediately grabbed his leather jacket, putting it around you.

You thanked him, leaning against his chest as the two of you cuddled. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat as he flushed red, again covering his flustered self with a cough.

“Are you getting sick?” you inquired, looking up at Jungkook with a pout. His eyes twinkled at this point as you cutely and drunkenly put your hand up to his forehead, trying to feel his temperature. It was going up all right, and Jungkook turned even redder than the tomatoes in the ramyeon in front of you two.

“Uh,” was all Jungkook could say, stuttering his way into a lame excuse. “The ramyeon is a bit too spicy that’s all, haha.”

He did his best to chuckle sexily as you sighed, frowning.

“Should I have asked for it to be mild?” you inquired, grabbing the menu from the table. “If I had known you didn’t like spice, I would’ve ordered it.”

“Oh no, i-it’s okay!” Jungkook hastily replied, putting the menu down. He was freaking out, and a few of the boys were starting to notice the two of you being rather cozy.

“Man, I have never seen Jungkook look so happy in my entire life,” Taehyung teased, snorting into his beer and pointing at the both of you.

Jungkook frowned, still beet red.

“W-what are you talking about?!” he fired back at Taehyung. All the second youngest in the office did was shrugged, smirking.

“Oh, now you’re playing stupid,” Taehyung drunkenly laughed, leaning against you as he whispered something in your ear.

Jungkook’s stomach bubbled in nervousness while Taehyung chuckled after saying his piece which made you giggle a bit.

“Yeah, he can be obtuse sometimes,” you replied, glancing back at Jungkook. He flushed again, his stomach in knots. Did you know? Were you playing with him?

As the night progressed, you began acting more and more wild, making Jungkook laugh uproariously at your behavior. Seeing you loose made him happy and glad that he planned the goodbye party in the first place. He clapped and cheered for you as you attempted badly to sing Whitney Houston’s “I’ll Always Love You”. Even if you were off-key, he still found it endearing that you even attempted.

Your unabashed confidence was shining through, and something ignited within Jungkook. It was then when he realized how much he liked you and seeing this side of you made him want you even more. The desire to be even closer than you two already were, and the desire to be intimate was growing inside Jungkook’s already big and kind heart, and he wanted to do something more.

It wasn’t too late when everyone began to go home, leaving the two of you alone. You had Uber’d your way to the noraebang so Jungkook offered naturally to take you home after sobering up.

As the two of you walked to the car, you instinctively but a bit impulsively wrapped your arm around his. His stomach lurched forward as his heart beat unbelievably fast, making him cough out of nervousness.

“You okay?” you asked worryingly, slurring a bit of your words. Jungkook was a bit concerned for you as he gripped your arm tighter around his bicep, leaning against you.

“I am,” he hummed lightly, opening his Mercedes GT door for you before guiding you in. “Are you okay though? You had a lot to drink.”

He strapped you in with the seatbelt as you smiled warmly. At this point, you two were really close to each other, feeling each other’s warm breaths as Jungkook’s big eyes stared into yours. He lamented quietly that you weren’t entirely there, wishing you were entirely sober so he could just kiss you right then and there. Your red warm lips were calling to him, and he wanted to kiss you so fucking bad, but only if you let him.

God, you’re so beautiful right now, he thought.

“What?” you laughed softly as he snapped out of it.

“N-nothing.”

Clearing his throat for the 1529458th time, he pulled away from your warmth and back into the winter air. Sliding his hands together to keep warm, he sprinted to the driver’s side of the car, sliding in before turning the engine on. The hot air swirled through the cabin as he turned the lights on and navigation took you home.

Not much was said during the ride to your house. Surely, he didn’t want to interrupt you slowly dozing off, mumbling to yourself as your hand laid on the center console. Jungkook’s hand was firmly on the shift gear but it achingly wanted to be there as well, holding your hand. He wanted to warm you up so badly, just like how he did it all night with you.

There must have been real chemistry between you two up until this point, Jungkook thought. There was no way all of this was platonic or you had been leading him on. All the flirty exchanges you two had for the past year started replaying in Jungkook’s mind like a broken video tape, replaying over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to tell you. He had to confess.

As the car came to a stop and turned off, he went over to your side to open the door again. You woke up to the brisk cold air hitting your face as you were startled awake. Jungkook’s dark silhouette encapsulated you as you pulled out of the car, only to slip from the ice below and into Jungkook’s arms.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed as he caught you immediately into his embrace. His firm, yet warm body was pressed up against your own as you giggled drunkenly, trying to maintain your balance. “God, I’m just all over you tonight huh, Jeon?”

You could feel his heavy breaths on you as you looked up. He was already staring down at you with a soft smile, his cheeks pink.

You wondered if he was going to keep hiding it from you. You knew for quite some time that Jungkook liked you a bit too much, and even in your drunken state, you wanted to tell him it was okay to lean in for a kiss. You liked him too, and you wanted him to be yours.

Under the dim streetlight, he ever so slowly leaned in, closing the gap between you two. His eyes were pensive, thinking a bit too hard on this, but you had already made up your mind.

Kiss me, Jungkook.

“If you let me,” he whispered right before your lips touched his.

You pulled him in, kissing him. His eyes closed immediately as he took control, squeezing you tightly as you two softly kissed each other, keeping warm.

Snow was falling lightly on the both of you as your lips slowly made a grin when the two of you parted.

“Always, Jungkook.”

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #writing #mine #I WAS INSPIRED BY THE GCF LEAVE ME ALONE #short and sweet like jungkook's haircut in the gcf <3 #oh i'm in love with the man so bad it's not even funny :/#i barely edited this so hfdklshg;hg #kissing jungkook in the snow o my god i'm so romantic

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myseungsunglove · 8 months

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An S-Class Connection | Hhj

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

Warnings: language, smut, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

𖠫Summary: Seeing your best friend perform at the VMAs stirs some feelings in you that you had been pushing down for years. Upon congratulating Hyunjin on his award and amazing performance, the dynamic of your friend takes a sharp and unexpected turn into territory you were never expecting but gladly welcome.

✎A/N✎: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote a full on smut piece. I have one with Seungmin out there called “The way you Make Me Feel” but it’s mild really. This one isn’t particularly spicy, but it is my first go at a sexual encounter in a fic in a long time. It’s also my first time writing Hyunjin so I hope it isn’t massively disappointing! Your feedback is always greatly appreciated.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© September 23, 2023 by mysweethannie」

✘MDNI✘

Smut Warnings: Fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (stay safe, homies), creampie

The moment his eyes meet yours from the stage, you feel your feelings fundamentally shift in a way you aren’t going to be able to stuff back into a box or a closet or wherever else they had been previously hiding.

The S-Class performance ends and you are escorted backstage as the crowd roars its appreciation for Stray Kids. You are so proud of them getting to perform at the VMAs. But at the current moment that accomplishment is secondary to whatever the feeling is that is stirring inside of you.

You haven’t seen the boys since you had departed from your hotel in the morning to get ready for the evening at the VMAs. You had separate presser events to get to yourself and those didn’t align with their schedules. You’d been with Hyunjin when he got his haircut the day before, but the stylist had done a next level job with his hair tonight. The tight undercut, the short ponytail pulled up in the middle of his head. The strands of hair that fall perfectly on his forehead, framing his intense stare in a way that have your insides burning with desire. Something you had not felt, or at least not acknowledged you felt, about your best friend before.

You round a corner backstage and see the boys thanking their backup dancers. Their smiles and energy are both contagious. Then you spot Hyunjin and it feels like all the air is punched from your lungs. As if he feels your presence, he turns around and once again his eyes fall on you. The look in his eyes is something you’d not seen before, and it makes your stomach twist into knots, the heat of his gaze making your legs tremble slightly.

He slowly moves toward you, his eyes raking over your form and you suddenly look down at yourself, taking in your appearance. You are in a skin tight black dress that hugs your curves, showing off your small waist and making your hips look delectable. The dress is short, barely covering your ass, coming to rest just below it on your thick thighs. You are wearing a pair of Black Highland Stuart Weiztman boots that came up thigh high and accentuate your leg’s best features and a simple black garter visible on your left thigh.

“Damn,” Hyunjin breathes once he is within earshot. His large hands rest on your hips, pulling you into his. You can’t help the tiny gasp that escapes you. “You look fucking incredible,” he adds. You hardly register the compliment because his fingers are dancing along your hips as he rubs them gently.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin questions when you don't respond. “Anyone alive in there?” he jokes, gently tapping his knuckles against your temple.

This brings you back to reality.

“Me? look good?” you scoff incredulously. “Have you seen yourself?” you ask. “Your hair alone would be enough to part legs like the Red Sea.” The words are tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you, his hands on your waist, pulling you into him so that he can whisper in your ear.

“And what about your legs? Would the hair work on them too?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin causing goosebumps to rise up on your neck.

You pull back from him with a start, looking at his face to read his expression. Your eyes search his for any sign that he may be joking or looking to get a rise from you. You are met with a look that says he would devour you right there in front of everyone if he could.

You swallow thickly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you take a step off a cliff you know you won’t be able to take back once you utter the words. You place your hands on the base of his head, your fingers dancing along the undercut, eliciting a shiver from him.

“Most definitely,” you finally respond, your voice breathy and desperate.

You barely have the chance to get the words out before his plush lips are pressed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth insistently like he was in fact trying to devour you. His large hands are sprawled across the expanse of your back, pressing you tightly against him as he kisses you breathless.

Just when you start to feel a little lightheaded, you break apart both of you heaving in heavy breaths.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing your hand and dragging you down the hall away from the prying eyes of the others and all of the people attending the awards show.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he pulls you into a dressing room, closing the door and pushing you up against it, this time his perfect pink lips finding a home on your neck and sucking a mark there.

“I’ve wanted this for,” he kisses your neck and moves along your jawline. “For so fucking long. You have no idea,” he admits before kissing you hard. His hands are groping your ass, squeezing hard as he presses you against himself. One of your legs is wrapped around his hip, making your core come in contact with his hard length. He groans against your lips at the contact, his hand moving to push your dress up over your hips, exposing the small black thong you are wearing. “I could make you feel so good,” he teases, his fingers running over your barely clothed core. “Do you want that?”

You nod frantically.

“Your words, baby,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, your lips leaving a trail of wet kisses along his jawline as your fingers continue to dance lightly along his freshly shaved hairline at the nape of his neck.Your lips meet again. He bites your lip and you can’t help but gasp. He pushes aside your thong, his long middle finger running between your folds, gathering the wetness that has gathered there. He circles your clit a time or two, causing you to moan out against his neck as he moves to enter you with his long finger. You hold tightly to his neck, your mouth hanging open as you fuck your self first on one finger, then two as he works to open you up.

“Need. Fuck.” the words are punched out of you as your hands move to his pants, trying desperately to push them away from his hips as his fingers continue their assault on your wet cunt. “Need you inside of me.”

“I am inside of you,” he teases.

Your hips still as you successfully push his pants over his hips, his long, hard cock springing free against your leg. You wrap your hand around his length and stroke him gently.

“I need this,” you whine, your hand holding him firmly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Immediately his fingers leave your sopping hole as he grabs his cock, running the head against your wet folds and tapping it roughly against your clit, causing you to shiver. He lines himself up with your hole and presses the head of his cock into you, looking into your eyes and he pushes deeper into you.

“Shit,” you groan, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders as your warm walls welcome him in.

He bottoms out, his pelvis pressed firmly against your pussy as he picks your legs up off the ground and wraps them around his waist. This causes his cock to hit that sweet spot inside of you, an involuntary moan spilling for your lips. He kisses you then, and this kiss is wet and dirty, desperate. It is all teeth and tongue as he pulls his hips away from yours, only to push back into you. He wastes no time repeating the movement, pulling his cock out to the head only to shove it back in as quickly as it left your aching cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight. Absolutely perfect for me,” he praises against your lips, and that causes your pussy walls to clinch around his hard member. “Shit,” he gaspes, feeling you grip him tight.

His hips begin to piston harder and he pushes back into you, shoving your back up the door a little bit from the force of the blow. He keeps his pelvis pressed against you as he pounds his cock into you relentlessly. You can feel every delicious inch of him, his veins brushing along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Fuck,” you moan. “I’m gonna come,” you warn. “Come inside me.” Your words were tumbling out of your mouth again as if you had no control over them whatsoever. “Please,” you beg, squeezing your walls against him as his thrusts became more erratic.

“You’d like that, yeah?” he asks, one of his hands moving between you, his fingers moving in circles around your clit. His forehead is pressed into yours, his breath fanning across your lips as he speaks. “I’m gonna fill you up so good baby,” he promises, suddenly pressing his fingers hard against your clit as hips stutter against your pelvis, the head of his cock nailing your g-spot.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin moans desperately, his movements stilling as he suddenly comes, spilling into you ropes of hot, white ecstasy. He is still twitching inside you when you come hard, your legs squeezing around his body as your own body quakes from the pleasure of your release. His lips find yours again as he helps you ride out the high.

“Holy shit,” you breathe against his lips once your body stops shaking against his. “I can’t believe we just did that,” you voice aloud.

“But I’m sure as hell glad we did,” he said, kissing you hard and pressing his body against yours once more.

“Me too,” you agree. “That better not be the last time either,” you add.

He smiles against your lips then and chuckles softly.

“I’m never getting enough of this now that you’ve given it to me,” he admits, his voice low. “I’m yours, baby,” he says, kissing you tenderly.

It is at that moment you realize what the feeling you had felt earlier in the night was. You had fallen in love with your best friend. It only took him fucking you in a dressing room at an awards show for you to figure it out.

There were worse ways to come to that conclusion, you think to yourself, thankful that no matter where or how it happened that it did. Things will definitely never be the same between you, but in the best way possible.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #Hyunjin x Reader #Hyunjin Smut #Hyunjin fanfic #Hyunjin one shot #Hyunjin Drabble #Hyunjin fanfiction

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muniimyg · 2 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ personal trainer!jungkook ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request: closed

inspo from tiktok

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

personal trainer!jungkook has trained a handful of people, but you have to be the most entertaining one yet. every morning you walk in with your 32oz hydroflask filled with water and ice and a sleepy smile. he thinks it's the funniest thing ever because you don't even end up drinking half of what you're bringing. he always teases you about it. in return, you mock him regarding his newest haircut (secretly loving every style on him) and how his commitment issues shouldn't be so obvious. he rolls his eyes, laughs, and playfully throws punches your way.

personal trainer!jungkook would listen to your new boyfriend stories in between sets and hate it. sometimes, he'd purposely mis-count your reps just so he can feel like he avenged himself. when you catch on to his "lack" of math skills, you groan, "you hate me, don't you?" he'd nod, saying yes but he'd mean no.

personal trainer!jungook's favourite day is legs/ass day. your ass pump has to be what gets him through the week (specifically why he suggested legs/ass day to be 4 times a week). he loves it when you wear your light pink fucking lululemon set. some days, you'll even tie your hair up and add a little ribbon to it. he'll flick it, saying you look stupid but what is actually stupid is how much he likes it on you. you joke, "i'll take it off if you'll let me tie it around your biceps hehehhee..." he scrunches his nose at you and chuckles, "in your dreams, princess." ... all of this has him acting up, tbh. when you do your squats, he takes breaks. he looks away or makes dumb excuses like needing to check something at the front desk just so he can ease his nerves. or, he’ll simply go to the washroom to splash his face with cold water. when he comes back, he helps spot you. you (purposely) arch your back too much whenever you do this set. you do this set quietly. he watches quietly. with other exercises, he helps improve your posture. "so, when you come up, you're going to squeeze your glutes, yeah? w-what's so funny?" you snicker at him and throw your head back. "n-nothing! you have a cute bum." he glares at you. "shut up." you put your hands up but quickly drop them to his bum level and pretend to squeeze them. "my ass is like... twice yours." jungkook then chuckles, "i know. i built it. i own that ass."

personal trainer!jungkook knows what he's doing when he wears his fucking compression shirts. white, black, grey, navy blue—any. your favourite combination has to be the classic white with grey sweats. god, it's crazy. his body is carved in the most sexy way possible... it's enough to get you to the gym even when you're on your period. what makes this worse is that he's usually in a cheekier mood when he's in his compression shirts. maybe it's because he knows he's hot... it's also times like these where you act a lot cuter during your workouts. "and then when you pull down like this... you're basically working on your lats—" jungkook pauses and gives you a look. you smile, snickering at him because you finally know what your lats are and it's all thanks to him. low, he offers you his high-5. you high-5 him and then close your hands together. like a little handshake, he squeezes your hand and for a moment—just a mere fleeting moment—you two hold hands.

personal trainer!jungkook knows you respond well to praise. when he knows you had a heavier training day the day before, he's nice enough to give you low-intensity work outs the next day. still, as you struggle to push through, he doesn't let you cut out. instead, he empowers you and feeds your delulu. "you got this, ___. come on, drive it up. yes! just like that. mhmm, good, good. good job, mama. one more, last one... yes! see? knew you could do it. that's what i like to see! let's fucking goooo!" you catch your breath and glare at him. "i h-hate you." he shrugs. "proud of you. you did well. rest up... you have one more set."

#bts blurb #bts scenario #jk gym rat #jk fanfic #jk scenario #jk imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook mini #bts fanfic

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shoku-and-awe · 1 month

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Complicated anxiety post!

I scheduled a fancy haircut thinking I’d be excited by the time it rolled around, and now the free cancellation window has closed but I’m still :|

I know I *need* a haircut. It’s gotten so long that I hate washing it (it clings all the way down my back and literally makes me whimper with grossness). So I wash it less often than I like, and not wanting to wash it makes me put off swimming and exercise and other things that make me feel good. It also gets super tangled and dry, and I have to braid it every night before bed, and if I wear it up/braided too often, it makes my scalp hurt. (Also, the braid falls on my dog when I pick him up and bothers him.)

I know a haircut is inevitable. Both sides are shaved and the ponytail keeps getting thinner and thinner. Also I have several inches of crunchy dead ends.

I want to keep the length because it looks cool to have shaved sides and just a big messy pile on top. (Also: sunk cost fallacy.) I also feel like it’s a compromise with Japanese beauty standards: I don’t really perform femininity, and societal pressure is so strong, and also having long hair like a pretty lady makes me less threatening as a scary foreigner; I don’t also need to look unfeminine or uncategorizable.

(The pressure here is really next level. People say “I’ve noticed you don’t wear makeup” in the tone I’d use for “I’ve noticed you don’t wear pants.” I once asked my Japanese ex why she did a full face of makeup just to run to 7-11, and she said, “It’s just basic manners.” It’s really hard to not conform! And I already don’t conform. (Should that make it easier? Sure! Does it? Fuck off with your logic—hair does not operate on logic!))

Making it harder is that my face is fatter than the last time I had short hair. (And older.) It probably won’t look good anymore! And even if it does, I don’t think I’ll be able to see it, and I will walk away shaken.

I could make a less dramatic change, but I’m not sure how viable that will actually be. Transitioning an undercut is complicated, and I’ve had hairstylists here respond to suggestions with “Yeah, that’s just not possible” (and Japan = rules do not bend). Also, pricewise, this is not a place I’d go for a trim; I went and called in the experts, and I’m not ready for them.

Also, time pressure. If I’m going back to bangs, I have to do it well before warm weather hits and we’re doing concrete jungle with 80% humidity. I’ve made that mistake before. You need a transition period. Emotionally, and to train your hair!

The one uncomplicated upside is that I have a cool silver stripe in my hair if it’s parted a certain way, so I can finally get my haircut that makes me Rogue! I’ve wanted that for years.

I plan to consult with the stylist, but I’m honestly no longer sure enough to know what to say. And I told him that it was a big haircut but I knew what I wanted!

要するに, it would be so much easier if this war was just society vs. my preferred expression/presentation. There’s other parties begging me to cut: exercise!!! hygiene!!!! scalp pain (grim!)!!! my little dog!!!

#gosh this is insufferable!!!!#but you know #hair is everything #and gender is…#gender is that one metaphor for shinto #it is a pearl and an onion and the air around us #(pearl: layers upon layers of history and society accreted around the eensiest grain of sand;#onion: layers upon layers but at the center there is nothing;#air: we breathe it. we move through it.#you get it.#it is so much a part of our lives that we can’t define it or see it.)#and self image is… … … a whole other can of tuna

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thenukacolachallenge · 10 months

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In defense of the One Piece Live Action Adaptation’s stylistic choices: A Cosmetologist’s Perspective

Hello! My name is Dia, and I’ve been a licensed cosmetologist since 2015(almost a decade now!). For those unaware of what exactly that entails, cosmetology is traditionally defined as ‘the professional skill or practice of beautifying the face, hair, and skin’. For me specifically, I have worked in the fields of hairstyling/haircutting/hair coloring, skincare, nail care, and makeup application(both traditional makeup and FX makeup) in my eight years of being licensed to work in these industries.

The reason I’m making this post today is to talk about the Netflix adaptation of the hit manga/anime One Piece, and specifically to address a lot of complaints I’ve seen about the wardrobe, makeup, and hair choices of the main cast thus far. I’ve seen quite a bit in the way of complaints, and a lot of it seems to be, to put it as politely as I can, not based in reality of how makeup, hair, and acting in general works, and I’d like to address some of it to possibly explain why certain choices were made, to maybe help people come to a better understanding of the why and how of these sorts of decisions.

I’d like to also, before I dive in, note that I am not in any way, shape, or form affiliated with this production! These are merely my personal thoughts and speculation as someone with some experience in this field. None of this is set in stone unless I provide evidence from the cast and crew to back my claims up. As well, I’d like to point out that I have next to no experience working on film sets(I have worked on VERY small productions in the past, for things that go up on sites like Youtube and not Netflix lmao), but I am married to a person who has a degree in film and has worked on live production sets before, and I did defer to them for a lot of the knowledge that I lack with live action production specifically.

I’d also like to point out that while I’m not mad at anyone who has the critiques I cover in this post, I may come across as a bit exasperated. I promise this isn’t me being angry at anyone, but more of just.... I’ve seen the same critiques over and over again, and to me, a lot of the choices seem fairly obvious as to why they were made, and some of the critiques come across as extremely silly to me. This is of course due to my own background related to these sorts of things. I promise I mean no offense or disrespect to anyone saying these things! I just want to make this to be able to help others understand why production may have made the choices they did.

Now, under the cut, I’ll be discussing some common complaints I’ve heard with regards to this production, and provide some potential explanation as to why these changes were made. On to the post! It is quite hefty, so please bear with me.

First and foremost, the most common complaint I’ve seen thus far is some variation of the phrase “I’ve seen cosplayers that look more accurate to the characters than this show does,” and I’d like to address this one first, as I think it’s the one that probably frustrates me the most. It specifically frustrates me because comparing cosplayers to actors feels like an apples to oranges situation. The two groups are designed to do entirely different things! Cosplayers do typically look more like the characters they portray than a live action actor will, and that’s a very common occurrence, but there’s a reason for that: the two groups are not doing the same thing.

Both cosplayers and actors put a huge amount of time and effort into their work, and I love cosplay personally. However, cosplayers are typically in their outfits for 8-10 hour days at most for a weekend, doing things like photoshoots where they have to pose, walking around conventions, and maybe filming a small amount of video(Not to say that this takes no effort! Please do not take this as such, I have helped friends with cosplays and I fully understand and appreciate the level of dedication and hard work that goes into it!). Actors, on the other hand, are in hair and makeup on set for 10-12 hours a day(if not longer) for weeks to months on end, and have to be fully in character while filming, as well as(specifically for a show like One Piece) doing things like stunt work, being submerged in water, and being on boats with lots of wind and ocean spray. There are certain things you simply cannot do, hair/makeup/costume-wise as an actor that you can as a cosplayer, so I really don’t think this comparison in specific is being very fair to the actors and the crew who are in charge of makeup, hair, and wardrobe in this case.

I’ll be getting into a lot more specifics below, but I will be deferring to my main point here very often, which is this: The safety and comfort of the actors is far more important than 1-to-1 accuracy in the way cosplayers can do, especially for minor changes in appearance.

Now that I’ve addressed that specifically, I’d like to move onto some common complaints I’ve heard for each specific main cast member, and my opinion on these complaints, as well as listing potential reasons as to why these things may have been changed!

We’ll start with everyone’s favorite funky little pirate king, Monkey D. Luffy:

For Luffy, the number one complaint I’ve seen is the live action’s choice in shoes. in the manga/anime, Luffy wears and fights in flip-flops, but this was changed in the live action. This was changed for a very simple reason, and Emily Rudd, the actor that portrays Nami, actually addressed this on Instagram while being asked by a fan:

Simply put, trying to do the kind of stunt work that Luffy has to do is not safe in a shoe like a flip flop. This is something that falls very completely under my original point of the comfort and safety of the actors being more important than 100% accuracy. It would be entirely too easy for Iñaki or someone he’s in a scene with to get hurt if he weren’t wearing the proper footwear. Fairly simple explanation there!

This is really the only gripe with Luffy costume-wise I could find, to be honest! I have seen a few people saying that he doesn’t have his signature undereye scar, but he does, although it’s not as visible as it is in the original work:

They kept him fairly true to the spirit of his original character, and although I don’t know why they chose to give him this specific potato shoe footwear, it is what they went with, and the main takeaway is that it was for safety reasons.

Onto our favorite wayward booze-loving swordsman, Roronoa Zoro:

Similarly to Luffy, I’ve only seen one main complaint regarding Zoro, and it involves his use of swords. In the anime/manga, Zoro has pioneered a specific fighting style called “Santoryu”, known in English as “Three Sword Style”: one sword in each hand, and a third in his mouth.

I’ve seen several people wondering where his third sword(the one that goes in the mouth) is from the trailers, and I was initially wondering this as well, since in most of his action scenes that have been revealed so far, he seems to only be holding either one sword or two. However, there was a brief clip(I’m talking, like, maybe one second) of him utilizing his three-swords style in the teaser trailer released in mid-June:

Now, as to potential reasons as to why this seems to be the only clip of him thus far using all three of his swords:

1. Again, this could be for the safety of the cast. Obviously being a cartoon character, Zoro wouldn’t have to worry about potential damage to his jaws and teeth, but Mackenyu, Zoro’s actor, is a real person who does have to worry about such things, especially as an actor who relies on(among other things) his facial expressions to earn a living. Carrying something like a sword, even a prop sword, in your mouth for long periods of time cannot be good for the health of your jaw and teeth, and I could understand if they chose not to film him with a sword in his mouth very often for this reason alone. 2. It could also be he uses all three swords less often so he can still deliver lines while fighting. In an SBS(”Shitsumon o Boshū Suru”, when translated means “I’m Taking Questions”, essentially an AMA for mangaka to answer questions their readers may have), Eiichiro Oda, the author of One Piece, once answered a question about how Zoro was able to talk with a sword in his mouth with quite a funny answer:

Sadly, in real life, Mackenyu cannot speak through his heart as Zoro does, so it’s possible that some of the scenes have been changed for ease of dialogue. 3. It’s also entirely possible that he uses his three-sword style as often as he does in the anime and manga, and the small amount of what we’ve seen in the trailers isn’t necessarily the full picture. I imagine this is something we’ll have to wait for the full series to drop to find out definitively one way or another!

Now, onto our lovely citrus-fruit-loving navigator, Nami!

I have seen two main complaints with Nami’s looks, and I’ll start with her hair, as it’s the more common one I’ve been seeing. I have seen a large number of people saying that her hair looks like(and I am slightly paraphrasing here) “a bad cosplay wig”, and honestly? I think this is just not true, and either comes from unrealistic expectations or just plain being mean-spirited.

First and foremost, this is very obviously human hair:

Now, I don’t know what kind of bad cosplays y’all have been seeing, but the ones I’ve seen start with synthetic hair wigs, not human hair ones(This is not to say synthetic wigs are inherently bad for cosplay! Simply that they are much harder to work with, though they are cheaper than human hair wigs). As well, I know for a fact Emily Rudd got her hair done similarly to this, to the point where I wasn’t actually sure that this WAS a wig at first(this picture comes directly from her Instagram account):

This is very obviously almost the exact same haircut as the wig chosen for Nami, save with more layers, and even the color choices are similar. To say that this wig looks like a “bad cosplay” is honestly just flat-out wrong in my professional opinion, and moreover, it’s quite rude. In addition, to me at least, it really looks like the wig was styled to resemble anime-esque hair, which is actually quite common among cosplayers. If anything, I have the same complaint on Nami’s wig that I also have with Sanji’s(which I’ll definitely be touching on later): it’s not thick enough. Both Nami and Sanji’s wigs just seem like they could use more hair attached to the cap in general, but especially for Nami’s, I really don’t think it’s as bad as people are saying.

I think this “bad cosplay wig” complaint specifically is mainly coming from people who only see the tail end of cosplay productions, which tends to be photos that are often times edited to look a certain way, which can often include doctoring the hair. There’s nothing wrong with a cosplayer editing their photos, for the record, but it can absolutely give unrealistic expectations to those who aren’t familiar with this practice, and I personally think this may be where these comments are coming from. Obviously you cannot photoshop every frame of a live action production, at least not without a lot of time and effort on the behalf of the post-production team, and I highly doubt Netflix would have greenlit something like that for such a small detail. It’s simply not realistic.

As well, I do find it quite interesting that I have seen far less complaints about the wigs of characters such as Zoro or Sanji(played by Taz Skylar(as stated previously, I have seen complaints about Sanji’s wig and I will be speaking on that later)) than I have about Nami’s. I’m not saying it’s outwardly misogynistic, but it does make one consider such things.

The only other complaint I’ve seen directed towards Nami’s live action look(and truth be told, I’ve seen this one far less than the comments on the hair) is the discrepancy between Emily Rudd’s eye color and Nami’s. As you can see from the above photos, Emily Rudd does not have brown eyes, which are the color of Nami’s eyes:

Now, I didn’t actually see this complaint until after the first full trailer dropped on July 21st. Specifically, I saw someone saying that it seemed strange that Steven John Ward, who portrays Dracule Mihawk in the series, is wearing colored contacts to better resemble his character, while Emily is not.

Now, there could be a lot of potential reasons for this, including that Emily may simply be not wearing colored contacts because they irritate her eyes(going back to my original point of the comfort and safety of the cast). But more importantly, I think, is that Mihawk’s unique eyes are directly related to his character, specifically through his epithet: Hawkeye. This is a seemingly important enough part of his character, to the point where it’s directly mentioned in his title. Nami has no such distinctions with her eye color, so I really don’t think it’s as important, and at the end of the day, it takes nothing away from her character to have a different eye color. So, while I don’t know the particular reason she doesn’t have brown contacts, I also don’t think it’s nearly as important for that detail to be as canonically correct as it is for Mihawk. To me, this particular comparison is another apples to oranges situation.

Onto our beloved liar, God Usopp himself:

Of course, the number one talking point I’ve seen about the live action Usopp is that Jacob Romero Gibson, Usopp’s actor, is missing his trademark long nose.

As One Piece fans know, one of Usopp’s characteristic traits is his tendency to lie. His name, Usopp, comes from a portmanteau of the Japanese word “uso”, which means lie, and Aesop, the famous Greek storyteller and the namesake for Aesop’s Fables. Because of his propensity towards tall tales, Usopp’s anime and manga character designs also added a reference to another character who’s known for lying, Pinocchio, whose nose grows when he lies. Thus, Usopp in his cartoon form has a long nose!

Considering how many gags in the story involve Usopp’s nose, a lot of fans were surprised to see that aspect of him not carried over into the live action. After the drop of the official trailer, seeing that the character Arlong had his signature sawshark-esque long nose in prosthetic form, there was even more confusion about this choice.

(As an aside, Arlong’s costuming choices will not be discussed in this post, as it’s long enough with just the main cast, but believe me, I do have Opinions on it lmao)

Now, as to why the show chose to not give Jacob a prosthetic long nose to better match Usopp’s appearance, I don’t know the specifics. I can only speculate, and really, the only things I could feasibly come up with are the following:

1. It’s entirely possible that for whatever reason, Jacob is unable to wear a prosthetic nose. This could be due to several things, including allergies to either the prosthetic material itself or the adhesive used to attach it, or the makeup required to blend the prosthetic into his skin. If this is the case, then it of course goes back to my main point here that the comfort of the cast takes precedence over accuracy to the source material. 2. The only other explanation that really makes sense to me is that they did in fact attempt the nose in costume fitting, and either the absurdity of it was just either too distracting to audiences/the crew/Netflix execs/possibly even Oda himself, or it could have potentially been a problem during stunt work. Usopp primarily fights with a slingshot, and I have no experience with slingshots so this is just me taking a stab in the dark, but it’s possible that the extra length on the nose could have possibly messed with the actor’s depth perception while attempting to act out Usopp’s fight scenes.

Overall, I genuinely don’t know why they decided to axe Usopp’s long nose. But at the end of the day, I know that for me specifically, this is a minor detail, and not something I see as a genuine problem, nor will it ruin the immersion for me. That being said, I can definitely understand the criticisms here. I’m hoping that a lot of these changes will eventually be answered, perhaps in some behind-the-scenes footage that comes out after the show’s release.

The only other comment on Usopp’s costuming that I’ve seen is much more easily explainable, and I also haven’t seen nearly as much in the way of commenting on it: Usopp’s hair is not in dreads in the anime and manga, and instead is kept natural, especially before the timeskip.

As we can see in the above picture, Usopp seems to keep his hair fairly natural, whereas Jacob, Usopp’s actor, sports dreads in his portrayal of Usopp, as seen in the above photo.

Luckily, I haven’t seen very many comments on this, and I think that’s a good thing, since the explanation seems fairly simple to me. Usopp in canon is based off of (mostly unused in this day and age, for good reason: a lot of the design is highly based off racist blackface caricatures) old-school anime portrayals of Black/African people. As well, in an SBS, a fan asked where the Straw Hats would be based out of if One Piece was set in the real world:

As stated above, Usopp would come from Africa! As well, if I recall correctly, Oda had a hand in casting the live action adaptation, which all points to the undeniable proof that Usopp is and has always been intended to read as Black/African in some form.

The reason I bring this all up specifically, is because of the way African hair grows. Obviously not all Black/African people are a monolith, and even among curly haired people there are different curl tightness and growth patterns, but for a large portion of people of African descent, their hair would not grow similarly to the way Usopp’s is portrayed in his cartoon form. His hair is indeed curly, but it grows down, similar to most wavy or straight hair types. This is especially evident in his post-timeskip hair growth:

Usopp’s hair, which was once above his shoulders before the two year time skip, now extends down past his shoulders. This is not necessarily inaccurate to Black/African hair types, as, since stated previously, different curl patterns and tightness exist, and even with super tight curl patterns, if grown out long enough, the hair will eventually grow down, due to the weight of the hair strands. But for a lot of Black/African hair types, the natural hair tends to grow outwards, instead of downwards(or at the very least it grows outwards before it begins to grow downwards). This type of hair is typically referred to as afro-textured hair, and is the namesake for the afro, a hairstyle wherein someone with afro-textured hair combs out their natural hair growth in the shape it naturally grows.

Now, I’m not familiar with Jacob Romero Gibson’s work prior to One Piece, and I have never seen his hair without his dreads, therefore I can’t say with 100% certainty how his hair grows naturally. However, he does have an Instagram account, and on this account he has photos of himself. I looked through his account, and although he doesn’t seem to have any photos of himself without his dreads(indeed, they seem to be his signature hairstyle) as an adult, he does have a few photos of himself from his childhood. I don’t personally feel comfortable linking his baby photos to this post, so I’m not going to do so here. However, they are visible there, and from what I can see from those photos, he does indeed have afro-textured hair. This may not be 100% accurate to how his hair grows now as an adult, as lots of things can change hair growth types and curl patterns, including things such as hormones, medications, stress levels etc. In my professional opinion, I feel fairly confident in saying that Jacob most likely has afto-textured hair, and therefore his natural hair likely wouldn’t fully grow in the exact same way that Usopp’s does.

Overall, I only bring all of this up to say that if Jacob did have his hair in a natural, non-protective style in his portrayal of Usopp, I feel that the same people who are complaining about the dreads now would likely complain that his natural hair doesn’t match Usopp’s exactly. Either way, Usopp’s hair is not a huge characteristic that defines who he is as a character(especially not in the way that his nose is), and therefore I don’t think that him having dreads in the live action takes away from the character in any way.

Finally, we’ll discuss the Straw Hat crew’s first-rate cook who attacks through kicks, Black Leg Sanji:

Sanji has the unfortunate position of being the character who’s had the most changes to his design from his cartoon to the live action, and there’s a lot of criticism that’s been lobbed his way. Some of it I think is fair, but there’s also quite a bit that I think is honestly quite silly. So without further ado, I’ll go through the four main critiques I’ve seen, and my opinions of each.

Let’s start with the one I’ve heard the most often, and the one that’s easily my least favorite to hear about at this point: the missing eyebrow swirl. Maybe it’s just because Sanji is personally my favorite on the crew and I’m just paying the most attention to him, but my god, the way some people are going on about the eyebrow, you’d think the showrunners made the decision to axe his signature curly eyebrow specifically to spite the Sanji fangirls. I think a lot of the complaining about the lack of eyebrow swirl would simply be changed to complaining about how bad the eyebrow swirl would look if they’d tried to keep it, and I’ll explain why below.

Like many of the costuming changes made to the live action adaptation, I don’t know the exact reasoning as to why they decided to get rid of the eyebrow swirl. As someone who has worked as a makeup artist, however, I do have a theory as to why they got rid of it, and my theory is fairly simple: it is just not really very possible to create a realistic-looking eyebrow swirl that reads well on a film camera.

Yes, the makeup team could have very easily drawn on a swirl with a brow pencil or some pomade and called it a day. However, it would have been fairly obvious that it was in fact drawn on, especially on a film shoot. I’ve seen a lot of people complaining about the missing swirl point to both cosplayers and stage actors as “proof” that it could be done, but again, this is an apples to oranges situation. Stage makeup(like that used for stage actors), photoshoot makeup(like what cosplayers would employ), and live action film makeup are three entirely different types of makeup application, and while they each have their own merits, that doesn’t inherently mean they translate into other mediums, and this is something that you have to learn fairly early on as a makeup artist if you want to continue getting work. If you are doing makeup professionally, you have to keep a lot of things in mind, one of the biggest things being how your work will read on camera, specifically the camera your canvas will be in front of. You have to keep in mind things like flash photography, shine versus matte, whether or not post-production editing will be involved, and the like. A fairly popular example of this is makeup influencer James Charles’ old meet-and-greet photo, which has become a meme since surfacing. Charles was used to only doing makeup and being photographed a certain way, leading to him using a setting powder that didn’t lend well to flash photography, and made him look like he was wearing makeup that was far too pale for his skin tone, when in reality it was just a makeup product that didn’t work for the kind of camera it was in front of:

Another example is basically the entire Cosmo Queens video series done for Cosmopolitan magazine’s youtube page, and I’ll use Kandy Muse’s video as a specific example, since she uses her natural brows in addition to her makeup. This series focused on the makeup of drag queens, and it’s very obvious when watching these videos that there’s a huge discrepancy between makeup meant for the stage and makeup meant for other avenues. Drag queens typically are live performers, and there is a common saying among drag artists, which is to “paint(apply makeup) for the back of the house(so that even those in the back row can see your makeup)”. On stage, Kandy Muse’s makeup is quite stunning, but it’s very clear that it’s not fully meant for the editorial style that Cosmo uses during these videos:

Even from a distance, you can very clearly see where Kandy’s real eyebrows sit versus her makeup. And while this is obviously an extreme example, it’s even more obvious when zoomed in, which film cameras have to do often in order to capture the expressions of their actors:

In a similar vein, film cameras, which are typically designed to catch a lot of definition and lend better to a more realistic look, likely would not be very kind to a drawn on part of an eyebrow. Without any hair growing there naturally to make the eyebrow makeup look more realistic, it would be very obvious that it was makeup, and would likely be more distracting to audiences(especially first-timers to the series; it’s important to keep in mind that Netflix would want to cater to those people as well as long-time One Piece fans) than omitting it entirely would. In addition, we have to take into account the actor, Taz Skylar, and his natural hair growth and the direction of his brows.

As is visible from the photo, Taz Skylar’s natural brow grows downwards at the end, whereas Sanji the fictional character’s brow grows upwards into his swirl at the end. In order to match the character 1-to-1 and change his own natural features, Taz would have to either shave/pluck/wax the entire outer half of his brow(which for an actor would be extremely inconvenient for other projects and would be an absolute pain to grow back out), or he would have to sit longer in the makeup chair to have his brow covered by FX makeup, which takes extra time and effort and could throw off the timing of the entire shoot. In addition, neither of these potential fixes would necessarily make the obviously-drawn-on swirl look good and read well on film. Add on the facts that Taz’s character is fully submerged in water in at least one scene, if not more, and has several fight scenes, and it’s not even a guarantee that the makeup swirl would even last throughout the shoot.

I’ve also seen people say that they could have added the swirl in post, but I think that’s it’s very unrealistic for Netflix to greenlight that for a minor detail such as a singular visible eyebrow.

While I am very sad that they weren’t able to translate Sanji’s signature brow to the live action adaptation, I think a lot of the complaints regarding him not having it and insistence that the production should have included it are entirely overblown, and are mainly being made by people who don’t have a lot of knowledge of what goes into film makeup versus other types of makeup. And while Sanji’s brows are fairly important to his character, this fact doesn’t actually come into the story until far after the timeskip, and we don’t even know if the live action will get another season outside of this one. I really hope this can help explain why they may have made the decision to nix the brow swirl for people who are still concerned about it, since from what I’ve seen, it seems to be the number one point of contention when it comes to live-action Sanji.

Next, I’d like to speak a bit about Sanji’s hair. Now, I have some complaints of my own about the wig used on Taz, but most of the criticism I’ve seen regarding the wig actually revolves around why it doesn’t cover his eye completely, as Sanji’s hair does. This is something that seems fairly obvious to me: Taz has to do a lot of stunt work, and he needs to be able to see! This is a potential safety issue more than anything else, and therefore goes back to my main original point. As well, there’s no real way to make the hair not move without completely overloading it with product, which, again, would be very obvious on a film camera, and likely wouldn’t read nearly as well as people think.

As for me, my personal critiques around the wig are just how sparse it is. Sanji has a lot more hair than is in the wig, and I really think a wig that had a little more hair attached to the base would have looked better. As well, I don’t know if the styling of the wig works for me personally.

I was actually really hoping that the live action adaptation would take cues on Sanji’s hair from the character who Sanji was modeled after. A lot of people still to this day think that Sanji’s appearance is based off Leonardo DiCaprio, specifically his role as Jack Dawson from the hit movie Titanic or his role as Romeo from Romeo and Juliet, but Oda has actually explained in an SBS that this isn’t the case:

Sanji’s looks and his “vibes” are based off of Steve Buscemi’s character Mr. Pink in Reservoir Dogs, and personally I would have loved to see his live-action hair more closely resemble that, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.

Another critique of live action Sanji is that he hasn’t been depicted with his trademark cigarette, and I kind of knew that this would happen from the moment I found out about the live action adaptation. This is not the fault of Tomorrow Studios(the production company), or even Netflix at large, but instead this is largely based off backlash from anti-smoking lobbies.

(As a former smoker myself, I have a lot of opinions on the ridiculousness of anti-smoking groups going after smoking in fictional scenarios like films and shows, but that’s a gripe for a whole other post lol)

Netflix notably caught a lot of flack for the depiction of commonplace cigarette smoking in other series, such as Stranger Things, even though the series takes place in the 1980′s, where smoking was incredibly commonplace. The major backlash even got to the point where you can actively see the drop in depictions of smoking between each season. I am hoping they at least give Taz one scene with Sanji’s iconic cigarette, but I’m not holding my breath on this one. I doubt Netflix wants to deal with that backlash again.

Finally, the last big complaint with Sanji’s wardrobe I’ve seen is his signature suit, specifically regarding the fitting of it. Sanji’s suits in the anime/manga tend to be fairly fitted in nature, while the live action once Taz wears, while still having a slightly tapered fit, is a bit baggier than what Sanji typically wears.

This is a fairly straightforward change, in my opinion: if the suit was as form-fitting as Sanji’s are, Taz(and his potential stunt double(I don’t know if he did all of his own stunt work or not)) simply would not be able to move the way Sanji does! This is an issue of cartoon versus reality: Oda is able to depict his characters doing whatever they want in whatever clothing they want. However, real life is sadly not as accommodating, and because of that, Taz’s suit has to be a bit less form-fitting so he can still do all of Sanji’s signature footwork. Going back to my original point, the sacrifice of the fitted suit had to be made so the production could actually work.

I tried to touch on all the biggest differences I’ve seen people talk about, and I hope this was helpful to anyone who may have been curious as to why some of these changes were made. Please let me know if I missed anything big or if you have any additional questions/need me to explain anything further, I love what I do and I love being able to have insight like this. Thank you so much if you’ve read this far, and please reblog if you found this post helpful or informative <3

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece live action adaptation #opla #tomorrow studios #dia drabbles #a rare case of nonfiction in my writing tag lol

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femmedesyeuxnoirs · 6 days

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anyone else noticed the phenomenon of american evangelicals always without fail being at least 10 years late to fashion within the rest of society. But like taken to the next level. In the 70s all the ladies still had those huge beehive haircuts and the 90s they wore the most heavy blush and lipstick ever with permed/teased bleach blonde hair. The hair is really crucial here. I guess the 2020s equivalent would be beige pumpkin spice modern farmhouse infinity scarf long ash brown balayage etc. Interesting also… that these dominant hairstyles have always remained blonde. It is extremely crazy to want to return to tradition so badly and still choose to remain in 2013 when we all thought those ugly ass ankle boots actually looked good. Do u guys think in 10 more years were gonna be seeing a leather maxi skirt and pixie cut on an aging youth pastor. I really hope so

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abeautylives · 1 year

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Something About You

a/n: A huge thank you to Stef and Evana for your help and input, I think this is my masterpiece lol

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 15.5k get comfy

summary: Drawn to you from the moment you met, consumed by you before your first date, he would do anything for you. There’s just something about you.

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, drinking, mentions of sex, extreme fluff, deception, explicit sexual content, mentions of oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, a twist, angst, breeding!kink, more fluff, it’s a novel so if I missed anything I’m so sorry

“I dunno Jake, what if they’re on a date?”

“I mean, maybe but… I don’t think so.”

Eyeing them from across the room, Josh takes another sip of his drink as his brother continues to assess the two women in question smiling across the table at each other in a booth.

“I don’t think they’re together, I think they’re just friends. We should just go find out.” Mind made up, the younger twin moves in that direction without waiting for a response.

Josh remains standing alone at the bar, watching Jake introduce himself and work his charm and within moments the two women are laughing with him. How does he do that? When Jake lifts a hand and gestures toward the bar, all three heads turn in Josh’s direction. Typically comfortable under scrutiny, he suddenly feels heat bloom across his cheeks as his brother waves him over.

“There he is, ladies, this is my brother, Josh. Josh this is… Nic? Nic and Y/N. They are not on a date, I asked.”

You’re both laughing again but Josh’s eyes are drawn to you as you lift a hand to him.

“Hey Josh, it’s nice to meet you.” He’s staring blankly at your mouth until Jake, as indiscreetly as humanly possible, nudges him with an elbow prompting him to look into your eyes and take your hand in his. “Do you guys wanna join us?”

They’re both very cute, but this one seems shy compared to the long-haired one that came over first and he hasn’t let go of your hand. His brother nudges him again and he appears to shake out of a trance as the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen stretches across his face, sullied only by a small gap between his two front teeth that somehow works to make it more alluring. Holy shit. You feel your eyes go wide as you drop them to look at Nic, who is also beaming at you as she scoots farther into the booth to make room for Jake. Josh, still holding your hand delicately in his, bends as he lifts it to his lips and presses a light kiss to your fingers.

“It appears that we already are! Are you sure we’re not interrupting?”

Ah, so he does speak. His voice has a similar timbre to Jake’s but their accents are completely different. You turn to him as he settles in next to you, ignoring his question completely. “Didn’t you say you guys are brothers?”

“Ha, yeah, we’re actually twins. Identical.”

“Bullshit.” You and Nic speak in unison and Jake chuckles while Josh just grins.

“We get that a lot,” Jake offers.

They’re easy to talk to, the conversation flows alongside the drinks and when Josh opens up you find that he’s soft-spoken but an animated storyteller. He uses his hands to emphasize his points and you watch them move through the air as he works toward a punchline directed at his twin. You use the moment to take in his profile - his haircut is interesting, shaved tight on the sides while the rest of his head is covered in long fluffy curls, but it leaves his face in full view for you. It’s a really nice face. His eyes, a light amber full of warmth, find you often and they lock onto yours when you’re speaking.

Nic convinces Jake to dance with a level of persuasion only she can achieve but you can still see him insisting that he’s no good at it as they cross the room. He loses the argument as her arms loop around his neck, as soon as their bodies are touching you know he’s done for. She has that effect on men and women alike and you’ve seen this play out before, she wants him and she’ll probably have him. As your gaze lingers on the two of them, you can feel Josh’s on your face.

“So,” he clears his throat, “Y/N, um…” You’re looking at him now as he transitions back into the shy person who had first walked up to your table. This side of him is baffling, he’s really attractive and he has to know that. There’s no obvious explanation for his bashful demeanor.

“Josh, do I make you nervous?” The thought is preposterous to you. Nic is usually the one that leaves strangers speechless or stammering over their words, but now that you’re alone, a distinct light pink has crawled its way over Josh’s nose and cheeks.

“Wow, um, yeah a little? What gave it away?” He finishes with a self-deprecating chuckle that’s charming in a way. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m usually more… normal. You’re just really pretty.” Good one. He’s being truthful though, he usually has no problem talking to… anyone, really. He’d swear he’s typically confident, sometimes even attention-seeking but, “There’s just something about you.”

Hours later you were standing outside the bar waiting for your rides, an Uber for you and yet another brother on the way for the guys, Jake and Nic were tangled with one another and making out right there on the sidewalk. Josh stood in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and an awkward grin on his lips.

“You wanna…?” His eyebrows had quirked up as he nodded his head in their direction.

Smiling back at him and speaking softly, you’d said, “Maybe next time.”

He asked for your number and promised to call.

⏰

Next time proved to be difficult to arrange, you knew it would be but it didn’t deter him. He called, just as he’d promised but your schedule left you little free time and meeting him on one of the rare nights out that you allowed yourself had been serendipitous. The calls became regular occurrences and every night, as exhaustion set in and you’d try to cover a yawn, he’d ask when he could see you again.

“I’m actually free next weekend…” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're nervous and fidgeting with the bottom hem of your sleep shorts. He’s so easy to communicate with and eager to see you, but you’re already overthinking things and you’ve never even hung out with him one on one. The phone starts ringing against your ear and you pull it away to see a FaceTime call coming in. From Josh. Confused, you click over before considering that you’re laying in bed, freshly showered and makeup free.

“Hey?”

He’s staring at you again, lips hanging slightly open like he’s forgotten what he was going to say. It looks like he’s probably also in bed, sitting against his headboard and while you can’t see too far below where the neckline of his shirt should be, you can tell that it’s absent.

“Josh?”

“Hi, sorry,” he laughs softly, “I just didn’t think you could possibly get even more lovely.”

The warmth of the blush moves up your neck but you can feel it spread through your chest even though you’re brushing off the compliment.

“Really, you’re beautiful. Let me take you out next Saturday. Wine and dine, the whole thing.”

You can feel yourself smiling like an idiot as your head starts to nod in confirmation. “Yeah… yeah, of course. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pick you up and-“

“No. No, let me meet you there.” Realizing how abruptly you’ve turned him down, you lighten your tone. “After all, I hardly know you. What if you’re a psycho?” When he laughs you let yourself relax into your pillow.

“Like the film? You a Hitchcock fan?” He’s graciously moved on, happy to do things on your terms.

“I’ve actually never seen it.”

Appalled, he makes you promise that you’ll watch it together someday and soon enough you’re holding back a yawn.

“Go to bed, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

⏰

“Oh he like likes you.” Nic is sprawled across your bed watching you pull clothes from your closet and toss them haphazardly around your room.

“Nic, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Then why do you care so much about impressing him, hm? You like him too!” Her wide grin, usually contagious, is only serving to set your nerves on edge. “And don’t tell me ‘I don’t even know him’ because that’s BS, you guys literally fall asleep on the phone together every night. You know him, at least a little.”

“Okay, I get it. We know each other. Are you actually gonna help me find something?”

Once she’s standing next to you shuffling through your hangers, you ask if she’s been talking to Jake.

“Here and there. He’s great though, amazing in bed. Did I tell you how big-“

“Yes you told me, thank you. I don’t need another recap.”

“You know what they say about twins.” She’s stopped sifting through your clothes to wag her eyebrows at you. “Just sayin’. I bet he’s working with a hors-“

“Nic!” She wards off a slap from the back of your hand and then holds a dress out to you, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks with her other hand.

“This one’s perfect. Plus he looks like his favorite color’s green.”

As the hostess leads you to your table, you’re pleased with Nic’s choice. The restaurant’s vibe seems pretty casual and the other guests are dressed in a variety of attire. You feel comfortable, like you’re not standing out at all until your eyes meet Josh’s. As he comes into view you can tell he was already watching and waiting for you, but when he sees you walking in his direction you feel like you’re the only other person in the crowded room.

You’re suddenly ecstatic over Nic’s choice. His mouth is open again but his eyes drop from your face to your feet before they take a slow journey up your body. By the time you make it to the table, they’ve reached your eyes again and he flashes that smile. God I forgot about the smile.

He stands to greet you with a hand placed delicately at the small of your waist and the other grasping one of yours, but then he leans in and places a soft kiss to your cheek. It’s barely a brush of his lips over your skin but you weren’t expecting it, or the way you felt it jolt through your body like crackling electricity. When he pulls away your other hand comes up to place your fingertips to the spot.

“Oh…”

Hands still attached to you, he grins sheepishly with his bottom lip pulled between perfectly straight teeth. “You look… exquisite, really. Beautiful.” He drops his hold on your waist to run his hand through his hair and scratch the back of his head, shy again. “I love your dress.”

“Oh this old thing? Just threw it on.” You make a mental note to thank Nic. Exquisite is not an accolade you think you’ve ever received. He moves around you to pull your chair out and you’re pretty sure you’re hallucinating, or dreaming. Is he even real? When he’s seated across from you, you’re finally able to take in his appearance.

He’s in a white shirt again but this one has a small v at the neckline, and he’s added a long beaded necklace that ends below the edge of the table. You’re positive that ‘you’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen’ is not an appropriate compliment for a grown man with a mustache, but unfortunately when you open your mouth to tell him he looks handsome, a combination of the two escapes.

“You look pretty.” A hand is clasped over your mouth immediately as your face bursts into flames, but a loud bark of laughter causes several heads to turn in his direction before he reigns it in to a silent chuckle that shakes his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant-“

“No, please don’t apologize.” His smile stretches impossibly, every equally impossibly white tooth on display. “Thank you Y/N, I feel quite pretty right now.”

A waiter appears before you can fumble through another embarrassed apology and Josh orders a bottle of wine after asking what your favorite type is. He gracefully moves past the awkward moment and suggests looking over the menu, and when the waiter returns you’re ready to order.

You quickly find that you’ve covered so much small talk in the hours you’ve spent on the phone, that you pretty much have to dive into big talk. He tells you more about his job, which sounds like a dream more so than work, and you’re enthralled by the way he speaks about making music. When he asks about your life, you’re intentionally vague since your world seems a little boring and insignificant in comparison, but he hangs onto every word.

Hours later, after you’d finished your meal and given up your table to move to the bar, you found yourselves standing outside once again. Leaning against the driver’s side of your car, you watched as Josh slowly moved closer to you and placed his hand on your waist. This time when he leaned in, you’d been hoping for it and when he kissed your cheek and pulled away, you pulled him back in and pressed your lips to his.

He’d seemed surprised for just a second, but quickly his other hand was on you and he took half a step closer. Your bodies didn’t meet but you were sure that you were feeling exactly what they describe in books and cheesy movies. You could feel it across every inch of your skin, in every cell.

Fireworks.

You felt his lips break from yours but they found you again, two more gentle touches of your skin against his before he moved away to look at you.

“I should be driving you home.” A hand had found the side of your face and settled back at the base of your neck, keeping you so close that his breath, lightly scented of grapes, had fallen over your still-tingling lips.

“Maybe next time.”

⏰

“Wait, so you didn’t fuck him?”

“Hey! You’re on speaker…”

“Sorryyy. But why not? Do you not like him anymore?”

“Nic, have you even been listening? I like him a lot. He’s like… kind of perfect, actually.” You can feel yourself making moony eyes at nothing in particular as you say it.

“So what’s the issue? Are you gonna fu- sorry, do it next time?”

Next time. Next time was already tentatively scheduled for two weekends from now, as long as nothing fell through on your end.

“I don’t know, I’m not going to plan getting laid in advance. If it feels right then, we’ll see I guess.”

“Y/N you plan your entire life in advance. And I know for a scientific fact that you haven’t gotten any since that guy… shit I don’t even remember his name. That guy you dated for like two months. That was over a year ago!”

“Yeah and I fu- I slept with him after our second date. See how well that worked out?”

“It’s not your vagina’s fault that he was an asshole. Sorry, but he was. And Josh has already been around for weeks and your date was ‘kind of perfect’ as I recall. I mean, how did he react when you told him about-“

“Ihaven’ttoldhim.” It comes out as one huff of air.

“Oh. Ohhhh no.”

“I just like him so much.” Nic can hear the sorrowful frown in your voice. “I didn’t want to ruin it… yet.”

“You need to tell him. No matter the outcome, you need to tell him. I dunno babe, I feel like Josh might surprise you.”

⏰

You let him pick you up in front of your house. Waiting at the window to see him pull up, you didn’t give him the chance to get out of the car and come to your door but he didn’t seem to mind when you hopped into his Jeep and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I would’ve opened the door for you, ya know.”

“I’m absolutely sure that you would have, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a little car door.” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin as he puts it in reverse and backs out of your driveway. “So where are we going?”

“Ah, to the movies of course.”

The movies ends up being a completely empty theater. There were plenty of people in the lobby when you’d entered, but you and Josh were escorted to an auditorium where he chose seats near the top in the middle. When no other patrons trickled in after about five minutes, you turned to look at him and found mischief in his eyes.

“Josh… what’s going on here?” You circle a finger in the air, gesturing to the empty room. “What are we even seeing?”

“An American classic, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers together and resting them on his thigh. He offers no further information but as if on cue, the lights go down and you can actually hear film as it starts rolling. The screen in front of you is lit but turns black before white letters appear in the center.

PSYCHO

Snapping your head to face him again, you find the mischief is still alight in his eyes and in the grin stretching across his mouth.

“How did you…?” Your whisper trails off but he understands your confusion.

“You don’t have to whisper, really. No one else will be joining us.” He takes in the way your jaw has dropped slightly and your eyebrows are tilted upward. “I know the owner. I put in a special request, told him my girl has never seen the greatest psychological thriller of the 20th century.”

My girl. His girl.

Stunned into silence, all you can do is return his grin and snuggle into his side as the black and white film continues to roll. Familiar with the premise of the movie but having never seen it, you were appropriately shocked by the twist revealed about halfway through, much to Josh’s delight. With your head lifted from its place on his shoulder, he reaches across himself to press the tips of his fingers into your jaw and turn you to him. You feel it again when his lips, soft and searching, meet yours. The tingle spreads through your body and lands distinctly between your thighs. When you cross them in Josh’s direction, he moves his hand from your jaw to rest just above your knee as your lips separate. He watches it move higher until his fingers are squeezing the muscle and you can feel the heat radiating from your own chest.

“Come home with me when the movie’s over.”

The heat turns into a flush of slight panic and he sees it flit across your features as you pull away.

“Sorry, no, it’s no pressure. Please don’t look like that.” The panic must be more obvious than you’d hoped as you try to fix your expression into something resembling poise and confidence. “I just- shit, Y/N I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to, I thought we were-“

He’s starting to ramble but his eyes widen when you reach a hand up to cup his cheek and you run your thumb across his lips.

“Next time. Is that okay?”

“Don’t ask me that. Anything you want is okay, more than okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

The drive back to your house was comfortably silent, music playing softly through the speakers as Josh drummed his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. His other hand was in your lap, wrapped around yours. When he pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep in park, he tightened his hold on your hand before telling you to stay in the car. You watched him get out and walk around to open your door, and laughed as you hopped down into his open arms that wrapped around you as your feet hit the pavement.

At your front door, nervous that he was going to ask to come in, you’d fidgeted with the edges along the zipper of his jacket that your hands had made their way to. His own were resting at your hips as he studied your face in the glow from the porch light.

“Thank you, Josh. That was really special, and very cool. No one’s ever taken me to an exclusive private screening before.” You’d giggled as he watched your lips move in silence. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me goodnight?”

“Oh I absolutely am, after you agree to see me again. Sooner, this time?”

“I’ll try my best for sooner, maybe next weekend. I will definitely let you know. Tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it…” He’d inched closer to you, pressed his body to yours for the first time as he pulled you against him.

“Please kiss me.”

And he did. Once your lips were touching he changed his hold on you, slid a hand up your back until it was tangled in your hair and you were gripping his jacket. He hummed into the kiss, the sound pulsed through your bloodstream and you’d let a quiet moan slip out and over his skin. You felt his hand turn into a fist full of your hair before his tongue slid out and over your bottom lip. Your hips had pushed into his as your own tongue sought his out and tasted him for the first time. A groan pushed it’s way from his throat and you accepted it hungrily as your hips moved again, this time against his very obvious arousal.

“Y/N…” His voice had dropped an octave or two, his forehead rested against yours.

“Next time, Josh. Next time.”

He’d kissed you again, pressed his lips to yours with a tender kind of force before pulling away and smiling that smile at you. “I’ll see you soon. And I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night, beautiful.”

You watched him hop down the two steps from your porch and practically skip down the driveway.

⏰

“Hasn’t it been like, over a month? We met them,” Jake pauses to calculate the time on his fingers, “almost six weeks ago. What’s the hold up?”

“There is no ‘hold up’, we’ve only gone out twice. I’m sorry her friend skewed your expectations of women by fucking you the same night she met you.”

“Whoa whoa, first of all, don’t be sorry that I get laid more than you. Second of all, my expectations are not skewed. I respect the sexual decisions of all people, not my business.” Josh rolls his eyes and begs his brother to get to the point. “I just thought you said she seemed into you. And it’s been six weeks.”

“Since you’re so concerned, I’m seeing her again tomorrow. Here. She’s gonna come here for dinner.”

“That’s great! Wash your fucking sheets you lazy bastard.”

⏰

You’re running late on your way to Josh’s house, having gotten held up and you’re working through a string of poorly constructed excuses in your head as you exceed the speed limit as safely as possible. When he opens his front door and welcomes you inside, your worry stays on the front porch. He smiled that smile, looked so happy just to have you in his space, that you instantly forgot you’d even shown up late.

As the door closes, the click of the lock rings through the entryway and you turn to each other expectantly. You make the first move, by a fraction of a second, and your bodies collide in a tangle of limbs just before his back meets the door. The kiss is a little messy, frantic as your tongues slip against each other and your hands roam. You’ve hardly touched him the whole time you’ve known him and you're almost surprised to feel lightly sculpted muscle under his t-shirt. He hasn’t let his hands move farther than up and down the expanse of your back but his fingertips are dragging across it, you both need to feel more.

Breaking the kiss, you’re breathing heavily as you murmur, “Sorry… I’ve been thinking about that for a week.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You can do that as much as you want, when ever you want. I’ve been thinking about you too.” His grin is shy and lopsided again and you get just a peek of his teeth before he kisses you again. “Kick your shoes off if you want, you can leave your bag here, get comfortable. The tour will have to wait, I’m in the middle of cooking.”

He’s cooking me dinner.

Tugging you along by your hand, he guides you through the house to the kitchen, pointing out the obvious along the way. Livingroom, hallway (there’s a bathroom down there), stairs are over there.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making?”

“Nothing crazy, just pasta.”

Nothing crazy looked an awful lot like a whole production. Thin strips of already seared steak as well as mushrooms, garlic, and various spices are prepped along the counter and red onion is simmering in a skillet. He checks the pasta boiling on a back burner before turning back to you with a bottle of red wine.

“This is too much Josh, really. It’s so nice of you.”

“I promise you it’s nothing. Or it’s really impressive and you’re extremely turned on by my culinary talents right now. Want a drink?”

“Yes please.” Taking a seat at his kitchen island, you watch him pour two glasses of wine. “We’ll have to wait until I taste it before I decide if it’s nothing or if I’m extremely turned on.”

He laughs with you but the truth is, you’ve been thrumming at a low frequency of arousal for the last week. The memory of your last kiss on your porch has been on heavy rotation, especially at night after you’ve just hung up the phone with him. You’d considered just taking care of it, several times, but you’ve been sure about your decision to take things further and concluded that you wanted your next orgasm not to be self-induced.

It’s been a long week.

Holding a glass out to you, Josh is staring like he’s trying to read your thoughts. You think letting him in a little could be fun.

“Thank you.” He smiles brightly before taking a sip from his own glass and setting it down to turn back to the stove. “Do you always work this hard when a girl already wants to sleep with you?”

His hand, stirring the noodles, comes to an abrupt stop as he whips his head to look at you over his shoulder. He takes a moment to formulate a response, but you haven’t rattled him as much as you hoped. “Only for the exceptionally captivating ones, mama.”

You sputter around the sip you’d just taken.

Turning back to the food, he just chuckles softly. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, my dear.”

The meal was close to complete in no time and you chat easily while he cooks. In moments of silence, he hums quietly and continues to add ingredients and stir, and as you watch his back move and flex beneath his shirt you realize he’s not using a recipe. It’s kind of sexy.

With a flourish, he wipes his hands with a towel from the counter and lifts them above his head as he tosses it back to the marble. “It is done!”

Clapping your hands softly and focusing on the strip of skin exposed by his lifted shirt, you congratulate him on his performance as he starts to plate the meal. At his wooden dining table, he pulls out a chair for you and waits until you’re seated to lean down and place a soft kiss to your lips. Once he’s sitting next to you, enough distance between your chairs so he can look at you easily, he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Moment of truth. Try it!”

He watches closely as you bring the fork to your mouth and close your lips around it. For effect, you pull it out slowly but the moment your eyes roll back in your head is not an act. After you’ve swallowed, which he also watched as if hypnotized, you take a sip of wine before speaking.

“I’m extremely turned on right now. Josh this is so fucking good! Do you cook a lot?”

His expression shows that he’s very pleased with himself, but his cheeks turn pink under your praise. “I do when I’m home and have the time, gotta keep things interesting. I’ve been working on perfecting this particular dish for a couple of years though… I’m glad it’s garnered the desired reaction.”

It doesn’t take long for both of your plates to be cleaned but you stay at the table slowly emptying the bottle of wine. Comfortable and satisfied, you’ve got a foot up in your chair, chin resting on your knee as you chat and Josh has put on music from his phone that’s bleeding out of some strategically placed and well hidden speakers.

“You strike me as a physical format type of guy when it comes to music. Don’t you have a record player or something around here somewhere?”

“Ha, I actually have three.” He’s not boasting, just stating a fact and also proving you correct. “I enjoy the concept of playlists though, creating a certain setting or mood appeals to me.”

At that moment, the silence of the last song’s ending is filled with soft acoustic guitar playing a familiar tune. Josh’s eyes instantly go soft as a wistful smile appears. Not wanting to disrupt the moment too much, you speak at a volume just above a whisper, “I love this song…”

He’s out of his chair instantly with a hand held out to you. “Dance with me?”

When you take his hand in yours, you’re pulled up into his arms that circle your waist as his palms meet your back. Looping your own arms around his neck, he moves in so that your cheeks are touching as he gently begins to sway. You’re not expecting it when he starts to sing along softly, his breath tickling over the shell of your ear.

Let me give my life to you

Let me drown in your laughter

Let me die in your arms

Let me lay down beside you

Let me always be with you

He seems to purposefully only hum the next few lines, taking the opportunity to press his lips to your hair before singing the rest as you continue to shift back and forth, wrapped in each other.

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

As the final notes float through the room, he kisses over your hair again before pulling back to look at you. The emotion swimming in your eyes is obvious and your pupils are blown wide, his own eyes bounce from yours then down to your lips and back.

“Josh…” Your mind is racing with thoughts that you know you need to speak out loud, this feels bigger than yourself but you can’t bring your mouth to form the words. Not yet. “Take me to bed…”

He doesn’t question it. He’s been sure that you’re exactly what he wants and he thinks you’re sure of it too, so he simply leads you to the stairs that he’d pointed out earlier and prompts you to ascend ahead of him. As you reach the top he moves you along with a palm against your lower back but at his open bedroom door, he pauses before guiding you through.

“You’re sure?” He feels like he knows the answer but couldn’t live with himself if he pressured you into it.

In response you take the lead and turn, pulling him into the room by the front of his shirt and into your body as your hands frame his face and then slip back into the curls at the base of his neck. He reaches back for the wall, searching for the light switch and you’re eternally grateful when it activates only a warm glow from two lamps equipped with Edison bulbs on either side of his bed.

“Interesting mood lighting you’ve got here, Josh.”

“Ehh, I don’t like harsh overhead light in my room. Ruins the energy.”

You’re giggling against his grin as you pull him into a kiss that quickly turns serious, and he moves you backwards until the backs of your knees meet the mattress. Lifting a leg, you move back over the surface then sink into it without hesitation and keep your grip on his shirt so his body follows, landing on top of yours. Held up by his hands pressed into the comforter on either side of your head, looking down at you with all sincerity, he asks if he can touch you.

Reaching up and circling his wrist next to your face, you guide his hand to move over your shoulder and down your chest until it reaches the bottom hem of your shirt that’s just barely ridden up your stomach. Once his fingertips meet the skin there, he takes over and slides his palm under your shirt and over your ribs until he’s got a handful of your breast. As he runs his thumb over the thin material covering your nipple, you answer.

“Everywhere. Touch me everywhere.”

He’d like to take his time, watch as every inch of your skin is revealed to him, but he’s been waiting for this. He’ll go slow next time.

Your shirt is being tugged up your body and you both shift to allow him to pull it over your head before you do the same to his. Leaned back and settled onto his knees, his chest is rising and falling with his breath as he tosses it to the floor to land next to yours. You let your eyes roam over each other for a moment before he’s leaned over you again and trailing his lips from your neck down to your clavicle. Propped up on one elbow, he lets his other hand explore your chest again, running fingers over the lacy material covering them before tentatively squeezing your breast. His hips move into yours involuntarily when you let a whimper slip out into the air next to his ear, but then he’s shifting his body to the side, next to you but still pressed fully against you. He captures your lips with his own as his hand slides down over your rib cage again and his fingertips meet the waist of your jeans.

Mouths still moving against each other’s, you nod your head in encouragement but he breaks the kiss to look at you.

You think he’s going to ask again but instead he moves his gaze down your bared torso until it lands where he’s touching you, and he watches as he pops the button and pulls the zipper down and skips touching you over your panties. His fingers delve past the lace and he groans as they skim over the little bit of hair there before landing on the soft skin of your core. When his eyes snap back to yours, you nod again as you shift and use your hands to push the denim past your hips and down your thighs until you can wiggle the jeans down and kick them to the floor.

His hand remains still, just cupped against you as you bend a knee and let your leg fall aside just enough that he can feel you spreading open to him under his fingers. Moving them, they slip through the arousal that’s pooled there and he bites back another groan.

“Fuck baby…” He slips them through again before moving them up and swirling a soft circle over your clit, your back arches off the bed. “So sensitive,” he chuckles lowly at your body’s reaction before circling over it again, “You want more?”

One of your palms is splayed out in the center of his chest but the other is gripping the bicep of the arm that’s extended over you. “Please, I’m gonna cum.” You’re not faking it, not being dramatic. The pent up sexual energy already feels like it’s threatening to spill over and while you’re not surprised in the slightest, his eyebrows have lifted in amused shock.

“Baby I’ve barely touched you.”

“Keep touching me.”

His fingers dip down to circle through the wetness at your entrance before he pushes one slowly past it. Your fingernails are digging into his arm, sure to leave tiny crescent-shaped marks on his otherwise flawless skin and he can feel your body clenching around his finger inside you as he pumps it slowly.

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

You try, you really do, and he can feel the tension release but as soon as he slips a second one inside, your body reacts the same way. He figures if it’s gonna happen, he should just enjoy it so he presses his palm over your clit while his fingers move and curl, buried deep. Your back has left the mattress again, he admires the way your skin stretches over your ribs for a moment before leaning down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, your hand flies from his arm to the base of his neck to keep him there as your tongue begs for an entrance that he welcomes. Your hips are moving to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers, but he slides them from your cunt to press them to your clit again. He swallows the cry that rips from your throat, hums into it as he draws tight circles into your sensitive skin. His kiss moves from your lips to your cheek and when he reaches your ear he whispers, “Let go for me.”

The soft command grips your body and pulls you under. The string of oh and fuck and Josh spilling from your lips on repeat shoots straight to his dick and he’s silently praying that he’ll figure out a way to hear those words tumble from your mouth every day for the rest of his life. His fingers, swirling slowly against you, come to a stop as your body sinks back into the mattress and the fist curled into his hair releases its hold.

Your body is flushed and you can feel the heat on your chest and your cheeks, and when you’re able to crack your eyes open the sight of him is something to behold. The warm amber of his irises has almost completely disappeared around the deep black of his pupils, he looks drunk, and hungry, intoxicated and starving for more. Before he pulls his hand from your underwear he swipes his two fingers through your release, then brings them up to his mouth without thinking twice about it. You watch his lips, pink and perfectly shaped, close around them and his eyelids flutter the way yours had at your first taste of the meal he’d prepared.

When he pops his fingers out, he mumbles, “Next time. Next time, I need you to do that on my mouth.”

“Next time…”

Silence falls over the room and he lets his fingers trail over your skin, from your chest and over the lace of your bra, then down to circle around your navel. As soon as he’s paying closer attention to your stomach, it tenses and you hope he won’t notice your reaction but of course, he does.

“Sensitive everywhere huh?” His lips are stretched into a grin and you allow his question to be the explanation.

“Yeah… Josh?” His reply is a soft hum. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

It sounds vulgar coming from your mouth, but he feels his heart rate speed up and blood rush to his dick again.

“No.” He answers simply.

“No?”

“No. It’ll be a little more romantic than that, I think.”

With that, he rolls and stands from the bed and you scoot yourself up to the pillows as you watch him move to undo the button at the waist of his pants. The muscles of his arms and chest bunch and flex as he moves, his stomach tenses when he pushes the fabric over his hips and it drags over… oh.

Nic was right.

Still covered by the cotton of his briefs, his dick is hard and sitting to the right, and it’s… impressive. He looks up to find your eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. He’s not unused to that reaction but something about it being you causes his dick to twitch under your stare and he reaches a hand down to rub his palm over it. The small groan that passes his lips snaps you out of it and you look him in the face, expecting some kind of cocky grin or retort.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll get a complex.”

Of course he finds the humor in the situation, but you’re a little intimidated. You decide to be honest about it, “We can’t have that. Um, Josh?”

He’s slipped his thumbs under the elastic at the top of his underwear, about to pull them down but he pauses. “Hm?”

“I haven’t- um… it’s been a while, since…”

Understanding softens his features and he smiles as he abandons removing his briefs and kicks his pants from his ankles before crawling onto the bed. “Do you… wanna stop?”

“No. I don’t. Just…”

“I’ll be careful with you, gorgeous girl. I promise.” He crawls over your body, knees straddling one of your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before placing another on your lips. When your arms circle him and your hands skim over the smooth skin of his back, he shifts his knee until it’s resting against you between your thighs. Your hips move, grinding your still covered pussy over him but he makes no further moves even as you whine into the kiss.

“Mm, do you wanna take these off?” A fingertip is running along the top of your underwear and dips just below it. You nod your head and he pushes himself up to slide them down your legs, trailing their journey down with his eyes until they slip past your toes and he tosses them away. His hands take that journey back up and when they reach your knees, he gently pushes them apart. He only lets his gaze linger on your bare cunt for a moment before he raises it to your face and asks if you want your bra off too. When you nod again he smiles and pulls you to sit up, reaches around you and unclasps it expertly with one hand. You let it fall forward, nervous for him to see every part of you but when you pull it away and toss it to the floor his eyes light up.

“Undeniably worth the wait, my pretty, pretty girl. You get more lovely every time I look at you.”

“I wanna see you too.”

He flashes that smile, wide and bright. “By all means, my dear.” He gestures down to his body with both hands.

You scramble to reach for the waist of his underwear, impatient and embarrassed that he’d felt the need to stop removing them just to soothe your nerves. Tugging them down his hips and over the length of him, his cock springs up once it’s freed but hangs heavy between you.

“Oh my god.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it’s out there now so you figure you might as well go with it. “I know I’m not the first person to tell you this but… you’re kind of perfect, everywhere.” He responds with a sharp laugh and before you can get your hands on him he pushes you softly back to the pillows and begins to push the fabric the rest of the way down to his knees. Once he’s wriggled out of them he kicks the briefs away, the last piece to join the clothing’s now scattered over his bedroom floor. Lying across his bedding, spread out for him, wet and waiting, he wonders over how it is that you still look so innocent and completely untainted.

“You look like a flower.” You lift an eyebrow in question alongside a hand to coax him back to you, which he accepts. When his body is hovering over yours again, his dick nestled between your thighs and resting against the slick moisture coating your flesh there, he leans in closer to whisper, “Soft and pink, delicate and naturally beautiful. You look like a flower. My flower.”

You crane your neck to capture his lips, and he kisses you back firmly, pushing you back into his pillows. Snaking a hand down between your bodies, you run it over his stomach until you reach the base of him, wrapping your fingers around him. A soft hmph huffs against your mouth at the contact, the first time you’ve touched him there. You’ve hardly touched him at all but he doesn’t seem to mind right now as you’re guiding him to your cunt and the head of him is nudging you, begging for entry. He reaches down to replace your hand with his, rubs himself through your arousal before asking if you’re ready.

“So ready, please…”

Slowly, so so slowly, he pushes into you. As your hands move up his arms and over his shoulders he keeps his eyes on your face, searching for any sign that he should stop, but he doesn’t find one as he rocks his hips and eases in inch by inch.

“Jesus, flower, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me.”

“I am relaxed, keep going…”

Not sure that you’re telling the truth, but positive that you can handle him, he thrusts into you to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You can’t help it yelping out of you but there’s nothing but pleasure behind it.

Throat tight, he asks if you’re okay and you’re quickly assuring him with a nod of your head, soft words of confirmation and finally pulling him in to connect your lips. You move your hips, encouraging him to do the same and the drag against your walls as he pulls back draws a low moan from deep in your chest. His thrust back into you knocks the air from your lungs and your mouths part as you gasp to get it back.

He rests his forehead against yours as he moves inside you, settling into a slow rhythm of deep strokes that are lighting you up from the inside out.

“So fucking good, you feel so good Jesus fuck,” his typical eloquence leaves the room as you squeeze around him. “Mm tell me, let me hear you.” He delivers a harder thrust, punching a string of expletives past your lips. Instantly drunk on your hazy murmurings, he picks up the speed of his hips until your legs wrap themselves around him and a heel is digging into the flesh high on his backside.

“Just like that, it’s perfect, perfect…” He doesn’t change a thing as you trail off, but your own hips are pushing into his and the sounds of skin meeting skin are echoing through his room.

“Gonna move, just a little bit. Need to see you.” When your head nods he pushes up from you, the skin of your chests audibly separates, a thin layer of sweat having formed between you. Hovering over you, you watch his eyes move down your body but they stop and focus on your chest, tits bouncing with every thrust of his hips. When he moves lower and realizes the view he wants is still obstructed, he lifts further and settles back on his heels, hands wrapped around the small of your waist and pulling you into him. Now he can see everything, but what he’s interested in rests between your legs and he zeroes in on it. His eyes squeeze shut as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to wake up but when they open he’s still watching your pussy suck him in, over and over again.

“God, look at you. Taking it all, I knew you could. A perfect fit, fuck…” His words have you clenching around him. “So good for me, perfect.” He lifts his eyes to your face and finds your eyes closed and mouth open, soft sounds of your pleasure floating from it. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You obey, opening your eyes and instantly moaning a low oh my god at the vision above you. You’ve never seen anything like him, he’s definitely meant to be naked, every inch of him is flawless. His normally fluffy curls have gone loose, damp and sticking across his forehead and his jaw is clenched tight even as he smiles at your expression.

You let your gaze roam over his chest to his stomach, the muscles there are tight as he pumps his hips into you. The v that leads down to where you’re connected stands out, the low light from either side of the bed casting perfect shadows.

“How- ohh… how are you real?” The thing you’ve been wondering for weeks leaves your throat as a whining question.

“Mm, I’m real, my flower. Don’t you feel me everywhere? Here?” One of his hands moves from your waist and comes to rest flat against the skin under your navel, pressing into it. You confirm, yes yes I feel you, and he moves his hand higher, skimming it up your stomach and the center of your chest and letting it land there, over your heart.

“Here? Do you feel me here too?”

You do, you know you’ve been holding him there since well before your first date, your first kiss.

“Yes, yes Josh. I feel you there.”

His expression goes soft and wistful, as it had downstairs before he’d asked you to dance. “I feel it too. I think before I even spoke to you…” The rhythm of his hips has slowed again as he lets himself get lost in his feelings for you. “There’s just something about you…”

One of your hands that have been anchored to him wrapped around his forearms, moves to rest over his on your chest, you want to remember this moment exactly how it is. Just you and him, bodies connected and letting yourselves admit that something more has been happening here. Lacing your fingers together, you’re gripping this moment tight because you know it’ll change, and soon. You pull his hand up to your lips and place kisses to his knuckles before moving it down your body until you’re pressing it into your mound, just above where he’s still moving when gentle purpose.

“Touch me, make me cum. I wanna cum for you, give you everything.” You can feel his cock pulse inside you before he starts thrusting against the backs of your thighs harder and faster again, and he slips his thumb to run over the slick arousal that’s spread over your skin. As soon as he swirls it over your clit, your back leaves the bed.

“Are you always so… responsive?”

Breathless from the emotion and burning under his touch you tell him no, it’s him, it’s all him. The words squeeze his heart and he feels you fluttering around his cock as he adds just a little pressure to his movements over your flesh. “Yes just like that, just like that, I’m there Josh. Don’t stop!”

“Give it to me, beautiful. So pretty when you let go.”

Your body obeys, the explosion of colors behind your eyelids when they snap shut is just like him. Bright and consuming, all that you can see and feel around you as everything else disappears.

Above you, he watches you writhe against his pillows, feels your cunt clench around him impossibly tighter, basks in the sweet curses rolling off your tongue. He’s hanging on by a thread to his own release, fucking into you softly as yours moves through you. When your legs slip from around his hips and your feet hit the bed, he whispers a request for you to open your eyes and look at him again.

You can barely hear him over the buzz in your head, but as soon as you can crack your eyes open and focus on him he’s pulling out of you quickly and stroking himself over you. You watch his mouth fall open as he spills over, his hot release hitting your stomach and pooling there. When the last of it lands below your navel he whimpers before he pulls his hand away and takes a few heaving breaths. You open your mouth to speak but he leans over you and swallows your words, lips and tongues pushed together and bringing your pairing to a soft closing.

He lets his body drop and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, unconcerned about the mess now trapped between you. As you bring a hand up to run over the dampened curls at the back of his neck, he speaks into your skin, “Absolutely worth the wait. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”

You think it might be a poetic version of the truth, and it’s heart wrenching. Your feelings are the same but you’ve been hiding a part of yourself that you should’ve revealed the first time you met. Now is not the moment, and you’re not sure exactly when the right time could possibly present itself, too far gone. Resigning to the fact that as perfect as this feels, you’re going to ruin it soon, you decide to let it wait. Just a little longer.

Josh eventually, begrudgingly lifted himself from you and left to clean up, returning with a warm cloth to do the same for you. He asked you to stay and you agreed, but told him you had to leave in the morning, you have to meet someone sort of early. Not questioning it, he settled you both under his comforter and pulled you close, lulling you into sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.

⏰

You wake up before him, the sun is already high in the sky and you can tell by the way it’s streaming across his face when you open your eyes.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Jolting up, you leave the bed without bothering to wake him or attempting not to, plucking your clothes up from around his room and tossing them onto the bed as you find them. When he sits up and finds you pulling your shirt over your head, the rest of you already clothed, he asks what time it is.

“I slept too late Josh, I have to pick up Sam-“

“Wait, what? You have to pick up Sam? Why are you picking up my brother?”

Oh god.

“Not your brother. Josh I don’t have time for this, I have to go.” He watches you leave his room as he jumps out of bed to find his pants, tugging them on as he follows you. You’re almost at the front door when his hand wraps around your arm.

“Y/N stop. Talk to me. Who is Sam?” His eyebrows are knitted together as he searches your face for an answer. “What’s going on?”

You let your head fall back as you stare at the ceiling, willing the right words to come to you. None of the words you come up with are going to make this any easier, a defeated sigh floats from your lips and up into the air before you face him. He looks confused, obviously, but there’s a little bit of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” It’s hardly a whisper, you’re not sure you even said it but the fear behind his eyes slips into sadness.

“Y/N… please just tell me what is happening here. I’m very confused.”

“Sam is my son.”

His hold on your arm loosens until his hand falls to his side. He’s studying your face as if your expression will bring him some clarity but he only finds regret there. “What?”

“I have a kid. His name is Sam. Ironically enough.”

Now that you’ve repeated it, it’s sinking in. “You have a child.”

You wonder how many times you’ll each have to say it out loud before he’s kicking you out of his house. “I do. And he is my whole world, Josh. Or he was, until I met you.”

He shakes his head and huffs out a sardonic laugh. “And you didn’t think I should know about that? You didn’t think you should tell me that before I let myself fall for you?” It chokes you into silence, the hurt tightens your throat and burns your eyes as your vision blurs. “I think you should go. Go get Sam…”

You turn and walk out the door before he can see you cry.

⏰

How many times can a toddler ask you why you're sad before you have a full mental breakdown? You’re pretty sure you’ll soon find out, Sam is too smart for his own good and too intuitive for yours.

Josh hasn’t called. You haven’t spoken to him in weeks and all you could do was fall back into your regular routine of wake up, drop Sam off at daycare, work, pick him up, playtime, dinnertime, bathtime, bedtime. Every day, and Josh hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t asked his brother to ask your friend how you’re doing. It’s been over two weeks.

⏰

“You’re being a fucking idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re being stupid.”

“Jake she lied to me. And not something small, she failed to tell me about an entire human life that she created. A whole child. For months.”

They’ve already had several versions of this conversation. Josh had called his brother the same day that you’d left his house, screaming incoherently about sex and lies and Sam but before Jake could make any sense of it his twin was crying over the line.

He’s pissed off, sure, but more than anything he’s hurting. Jake had told him to reach out to you, to clear the air, and most importantly to apologize for shutting you out.

“I get it, Josh. I do, I fully comprehend why you’re upset. But correct me if I’m wrong, you have feelings for her, yes?” Josh, head in his hands propped up on elbows rested on his knees, grumbles a confirmation. “And you miss her. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. What’s the issue?”

Snapping his head up to face his twin, he throws an incredulous look in his direction. “What’s the issue? She hid him from me. I had no fucking clue. I’m sitting here building a fucking life with her in my head and I don’t even know her.”

Jake nods in understanding, turning Josh’s words over in his head before responding. “So it’s not that she has a kid, it’s that she didn’t tell you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now. Yes, she deliberately lied to me.”

“You like kids.” Josh just shakes his head, suddenly infuriated with how flippant his brother is being over something that he deems extremely serious. “You actually love kids. Everybody knows that.”

“Your point?”

“Like I said, you’re being an idiot. Do you love her?”

Josh sits up and leans back in his chair, scrubs his hands over his face then runs his fingers over his mustache before scratching at his chin. “Yeah, I think I do, but-“

“And you don’t think you could love her child? Why? Because he’s not yours?”

“I never said that. It has nothing to do with-“

“Stop being stupid about this. Call her.”

⏰

The days crawled by, each one the same aside from nights that Nic would come over for dinner, help you put Sam to bed and then sit with you for hours. Filling the empty time that you used to spend on the phone with Josh.

Tonight is not one of those nights, and you’re sitting in front of your tv as some mindless reality show drones on. You almost jump out of your skin when your phone starts ringing on the table in front of you, but your heart is hammering in your chest when you pick it up to see Josh on the screen. It’s a picture you took of him at the bar on your first date, he’s leaned on one elbow over the bartop, smiling that smile, cheeks rosy and eyes focused beyond the camera lens. Focused on you.

You almost miss it, your hesitation to answer losing out right before it can go to voicemail.

“Hello?” You’re met with silence, he doesn’t answer right away and you think maybe he’s called accidentally, phone in his pocket as he’s out living his life without you. “Josh?”

“God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” His own sounds constricted, tight with emotion though you can’t imagine why. He cut you off and you’ve wallowed in your own misery alone.

“What do you want?” You can’t help but cut to the point, almost angry that he’d dare reach out and open with a line akin to I miss you.

“Just to talk. I know I should’ve called you sooner. Actually, I know I shouldn’t have even let you leave. Not like that… Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right. You should’ve called.” You know he had every right to be upset with you, but to go weeks with complete radio silence and call out of the blue with an apology seems too little, too late.

“I’m actually outside.”

You’re on your feet and moving to the window before you respond, and you move the curtain aside to find his Jeep in the driveway. “Go home, Josh. Now is not the time, Sam’s here and he’s asleep- actually I don’t owe you a reason. Just go home.”

He immediately does the opposite and you watch him climb out of his car and walk toward your porch. “Come outside and talk to me. Please, flower.” By the time he says it, he’s looking at you through the window with pleading eyes.

You sigh deeply before ending the call.

When you step out onto the porch you can see him fighting the urge to touch you, and you keep your body close to the closed door behind you.

Looking you over, he takes in your outfit, sweatpants and a hoodie, your hair tied up in a knot at the top of your head, eyes tired and a little sad. Also a little angry. “Beautiful as always.”

Unfortunately his words have the same effect on you that they always have, and you feel a blush creep over your cheeks. “Don’t. Please just say what you need to say.”

“Okay…” He takes a deep breath and you know he’s about to deliver a monologue. It’s just how he is, so you try to mentally prepare yourself but anything you could’ve expected is tossed aside immediately.

“To say I reacted poorly would be an understatement. I hope you can understand that my complete shock was not unfounded, I’m sure you know that. But you may not know exactly why I was surprised to find out that you’re a mother, especially after hours, and hours spent getting to know you.” He pauses to take another deep breath, you nod at him to continue and he inches just barely closer to you.

“I thought I knew you already. I spent a lot of time thinking about you, when we weren’t together or on the phone, I was thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you. I’ve always dreamt of you. I think that’s why I was so drawn to you when we met… I’ve known you in my dreams for years.”

He’s taken a full step closer to you now, his fingertips are aching to reach out and touch you but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“The problem is, in my dreams we built this fantasy life together. The whole thing, we fall in love, a whirlwind romance really and you let me whisk you away. Travel the world with me, do everything you could’ve ever imagined. We have babies, if you want them, and they’re perfect little manifestations of our love.”

You haven’t moved from your spot, arms crossed as he speaks but silent tears have spilled over onto your cheeks and you let them fall, dropping to the ground at your feet. His fantasy of you is exactly that, and it’s something you could never give him. Not the way he’s imagined it.

His hands come up to cup your face and he moves in until the toes of his shoes are touching your slippers. You let him wipe your tears away with his thumbs and he keeps your jaw cradled in his hands as he continues.

“Now the other problem is, when you told me about him, about Sam, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know you at all. Like you had kept such a big part of yourself from me, that that life I had dreamed of was impossible. It took awhile but I’ve realized something.”

He wants you to speak, to let him know that you need to hear his next words.

“What?” It whispers past your lips and he leans in to press his against them. You can’t help but to kiss him back. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours and continues.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, my beautiful girl. My flower. And I could love him too, if you give me the chance. How could I not love every part of you?”

You release a sobbing breath and he pulls back to look at you. “Please stop crying, I don’t want you to cry anymore. Not because of me.”

“It’s just not that easy Josh.”

“It can be. Let me try. How old is he?”

“What?”

“How old is Sam?”

You can feel him trying, he wants to know more so you wipe your tears and give him more. “He’s three. Three and a half, really.”

“Three… it’s a good age. You know, Jake started playing guitar at three. Prodigy, that one.” It makes you laugh, exactly as he’d hoped. “Y/N… will you give me the chance to show you? I can do this, I want to.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” There it is, that smile, perfectly imperfect and wide and bright and all for you.

“Yeah… yeah. On one condition.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. “Kiss me again and then go home. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh absolutely, my dear.”

⏰

“What have you told him about me?”

You’re sitting across from Josh at a table in the same restaurant he’d chosen for your first date. His curiosity makes you chuckle.

“I already told you, he still doesn’t know what a boyfriend is. No concept whatsoever.” Boyfriend. He grins like a little kid every time you say it, and it’s probably why he asked, again, if you’d talked to Sam about him. “He’s seen pictures of you. He knows your name, and knows I spend time with you when he’s at grandma’s house. He also knows that you like movies and you play the vocals, as requested.”

“When can I meet him?” Ah, that question. Though you’ve technically been with Josh for almost four months, you’re still not sure what the right answer is.

“Soon, I think. Maybe you can… I don’t know, go to the park with us or something. I just don’t want to confuse him too much, babe.”

Satisfied for the moment, he leans back in his chair and smirks at you over the table. “Ya know, if you’d let him get to know me, I wouldn’t have to sneak into your house after bedtime to fuck his pretty mama while she bites the pillows to keep quiet.”

“Josh! You’re disgusting.” You feign offense but you’re laughing with him as you throw your napkin at his face.

When you leave the restaurant, he drives you home and follows you inside. You lead him through the house, past the scattered Hot Wheels, monster trucks and Legos that tend to litter the floor of your living room, into your bedroom where he lets you undress him slowly. With your lips wrapped around him, cock nudging the back of your throat, he reminds you that he loves you. When his tongue is lapping at you, softly drawing you nearer and nearer to release, he shows you that he loves you.

When he’s buried inside you, whispering praise into your ear, calling you his flower, a goddess, you feel that he loves you.

⏰

One more month. You gave it one more month before you told Sam you were going to meet Josh at the park.

“Josh at the park!” He’s going through a phase where he repeats everything you say.

“Yep! Remember, Josh is mommy’s boyfriend. Is that okay?”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend is okay. Go outside?”

His beautiful one-track mind makes you giggle. “Yes sweet boy, let’s go outside.”

You’d told Josh where to meet you, instructed him on how to approach your child, coached him on what to say.

“Flower, I love kids. I myself am just a slightly bigger kid. I can handle this.”

Nervous as you make your way to the park, hauling Sam behind you in a red wagon, you think that maybe you should call Josh and remind him of what to do. On cue, your phone starts to ring in your back pocket and you stop walking to keep your eyes on Sam as you answer.

“Hey babe, we’re almost there.”

“I thought you might be. Do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Tell him I’m excited to meet him, and stop worrying. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll tell him. We’ll be there in a few.”

“See you soon, my love.”

Minutes later you’re rolling the wagon to a stop next to a red and blue bench and Sam is already bounding out of it and toward the slides. You know you don’t have to worry about him on the smaller ones but you hesitate to sit down, preferring to stand a little closer to the playground just in case. When a pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders, you grin as Josh leans into your ear and immediately asks where is he? Having seen hundreds of pictures and videos of Sam, he easily spots him amongst the few children begrudgingly taking turns going up and then coming down the slides when you point in their direction.

“Can I go, mama?”

He’s literally vibrating with excitement, you can feel it in his palms that have moved to hold onto your upper arms.

“Go ahead. Have fun!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then whispers against it, “I love you. Thank you.”

With that he leaves you, and you watch closely as your worlds are about to collide. Josh approaches the playground casually, and waits until Sam comes down the slide. Crouching down on one knee, he waves your baby over to him and the only part of the conversation you can overhear is the very start.

“Josh at the park!”

You smile as your vision clouds and you blink the tears away before they can fall.

When Sam reaches him, Josh smiles brightly. “Hey Sam, I’m Josh.”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend Josh.”

“That’s right, that’s me! It is sooooo nice to meet you, bud.”

“Nice to meet you bud.” Josh chuckles, remembering what you’ve said about how he repeats things in lieu of actually replying.

“Hey, Sam. Do you think I could play with you for a bit?”

“Play on the swide?”

“Yeah, can I go down the slide with you?”

“Go down the swide Josh! C’mon!” Sam reaches for Josh’s hand and grabs onto two fingers before tugging at it. Josh stands and let’s him “pull” him to the steps, looking back at you over his shoulder. His eyes find yours as you flick a stray tear away with your finger tips and smile. He uses his free hand to give you a thumbs up before he’s being pushed by the backs of his knees to climb steps.

You watch your son push your boyfriend up the tiny steps to go down the slide ahead of him. Josh is laughing when he comes down, the trip especially short for a grown man, even a rather small one. When he reaches the bottom, he turns and squats at the end of the slide, and you watch with fresh tears in your eyes as your baby lands in Josh’s arms. He’s wrapped up and lifted into them, smiles stretched across both of their faces and you can hear Josh’s raspy laughter mixing with Sam’s giggles that you love so much.

What you can’t hear, when Josh shifts Sam onto his hip and points in your direction, is Josh telling him, “Hey buddy, let’s go see your mommy real quick. She looks like she needs a big hug.”

Josh sets him down and he runs to you, arms wide open so you kneel to meet him with open arms of your own. Over his tiny shoulder, you watch Josh walk toward you both, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and a soft grin on his lips.

“Mommy needed a big hug.”

You pull away to look at your son, his face so similar to your own, for which you’ve been grateful for the last almost four years. “Yeah baby, I did need a hug. You give the best hugs.”

“Are you sad?”

“Not at all, I’m very happy. Are you having fun on the slides?”

“Fun with Josh on the swide. Josh is fun!”

You look up at him, a man you’d completely underestimated, and find him swiping his fingers over his cheeks and grinning that sweet lopsided grin. Eyes still on Josh, you reply, “He is fun isn’t he? Go play some more sweetheart, I need to talk to Josh for a minute. Then we can go on the swings.”

“I go on the swings!” Sam repeats your words before bouncing away, past Josh and back to the slide.

Josh steps forward and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. “I told you it would be fine. He’s so great, Y/N, really.”

You keep his hand in yours and pull him to sit with you on the bench, with your eyes still focused in the direction of the playground. “He’s really special. I- um, his dad has never been in the picture. Didn’t want anything to do with either of us when I told him I was pregnant.”

Josh hasn’t ever asked for further information on Sam’s father. It was clear that he wasn’t involved, your mom and sometimes Nic being the only people you ever mention helping you with him, but this admission only further solidifies what he’d already been feeling. He squeezes the hand that’s clasped in his, his eyes also on your son. “I’m here. Look at me, just for a second.” You both pull your eyes from the playground to look into each other’s. “I love you. Don’t you think I can take care of you? Both of you?”

“I love you too… Josh this is a big thing you’re offering, I don’t think you understand how big. He’s… not yours. You don’t have to-“

“Hm, that’s where you’re wrong, my beautiful girl. My beautiful girl, you are mine to love and take care of, yeah?” He waits for you to confirm, which you do with a nod of your head. “Then he’s mine too.”

Hours later, after many trips down the slide, careful pushes on the swing and lots of baby giggles, Sam began yawning and showing Josh another side of himself. He’d gotten easily upset with another child over whose turn it was to scramble up the tiny climbing wall, and when you’d reminded him that he needs to share, he’d yelled a frustrated no in your face. You knew what needed to be done but Josh seemed to know as well, and he’d scooped Sam up into his arms.

“Hey buddy, I think it’s time to go home and chill out. Let’s go, what do you think?”

Rubbing his eyes, Sam had said, “What do you fink?”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Let’s go home.”

“Josh go home too.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take you home.”

He moved toward the bench, you thought he was going to place Sam down in the wagon but he grabbed the handle and started to pull it toward where his Jeep was parked.

“Josh you can’t drive us home.”

“Why’s that, flower?” You’d followed behind him as he reached the Jeep and unlocked it, swung the back passenger door open to reveal a car seat. You stood there, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as he turned to face you, Sam’s head rested on his shoulder. “I did the research, I know it’s the right one for his weight. I even drove to a fire station to make sure it was strapped in the right way. Did you know they do that? You wanna buckle him in? I’ve never done it before.”

Struck speechless, you’d taken your child from his arms and climbed up to buckle him in as Josh pulled the wagon around and stuffed it into the back of the Jeep. Once you were in the passenger seat and Josh had climbed in beside you, you’d told him he didn’t have to do all of this.

“I think that I did, babe.”

⏰

“Oh fuck, just like that baby, just like that.”

Josh growls in response and you can feel yourself clamp down around him. He feels it too and leans to the side to see your face, cheek pushed into his sheets, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

“Like that?” He’s pumping his hips against your ass, one hand gripping it tight and the other wrapped around your hipbone. He delivers a sharp thrust that pushes your body forward but the sheen of sweat on your face keeps you stuck in place. “Pretty girl likes it a little rough?”

He knows that you do, sometimes, when the mood strikes. It had struck hard earlier in the night, and you’d practically tackled him the moment you heard his front door click behind you. His back had slammed against it as your body collided with his, a hand immediately sliding down his torso and lower to palm his cock over his jeans. You’d felt it begin to harden under your touch as your tongue slid against his, before you pulled off of his mouth to lick a wet stripe over the sharp angle of his jawline.

“Want you in my mouth, let me taste it.”

He’d groaned against the shell of your ear.

Not long after, he’d lifted you off your knees from the floor and thrown you over his shoulder, hauled you up to his bed and you’d torn the clothes from each other’s bodies.

Now, he’s fucking into you, eyes bouncing from the delicious view of himself retreating and disappearing into your pussy stretched around him, to the expanse of your back, the graceful curve of it arched below him. He hears you mumbling against the mattress, begging for harder and more, and as always he’s trying his best to give you whatever you need despite the bruises you might have on the backs of your thighs tomorrow.

“Christ, I can feel you baby, are you gonna cum for me?”

You’d snaked a hand between your body and the bed and you’re doing your best to swirl frantic circles over your clit, moaning in response to his question. He needs to feel you let go, he wants to flip you over so he can see your face when you do but you’re so close already. He can wait.

When it hits you, he slows his hips to work you through it slowly, drawing it out as long as he can. The way you’d yelped out his name and then continued to murmur it softly into the sheets let’s him know that it’s working. He’s not there yet, and when he feels your muscles relax around him he slips out of you and lets you sink to the mattress. Using his hands to encourage you to roll over, he soaks in the dopey smile on your face once you’re looking up at him.

“Did that feel nice, flower?” You nod your head lazily and reach for him, running your hands over the sticky skin over his ribs before wrapping your arms around his back. “Are you gonna let me back in? I’m not done with you yet.” You let your legs fall open wide, inviting him to settle between them. He slips back inside as he tucks his face into your neck, pressing his lips along the column of your throat. His hips start moving again, he’s really just rocking into you but it’s deep and persistent and you know that sometimes this is just exactly what he needs.

“Mm, I love you like this mama, so sweet and soft for me after you get what you want.”

“Lucky for you, I always get what I want.” He chuckles at that and nips at your neck.

“You do, don’t you? Aren’t I always so good for you?”

His question warms your cheeks and tugs at your heartstrings. He wants to hear your praise and you know him well enough to know that he’s probably about to surprise you with some other minor kink he’s been hiding. You’re correct of course, and you’re definitely surprised.

He pulls away from your neck to hover over you, pets a hand over the damp hair at your temple and settles his hold against the side of your head. He nudges the tip of his nose against yours before he pulls a gentle kiss from your lips. When he opens them again, his eyes are begging for the words.

“You’re so good Josh, always perfect for me.” It causes his hips to break their rhythm momentarily as he twitches inside you.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Let me fill you up, give you another baby.”

Oh.

Your brain turns it over rapidly. It wasn’t a real discussion you’d had, but even though you’d gotten back on birth control months ago and you’ve been together for almost a year, you’ve been using condoms all this time. Unless you didn’t, in which case he’d never even asked, he just didn’t cross that boundary. He’d paint your body with his release and you’d welcome it.

“Please.” His voice sounds strangled now, he’s hanging on by a thread and begging again for a response, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You wanna be a daddy, Josh?”

He clamps his eyes shut for a moment, a deep groan rumbles through him. He liked that, that’s obvious but it’s not a confirmation. “I’m already a daddy, my love. A damn good one. But I wanna see you all round and glowing with my baby inside you.”

A soft moan passes your lips. This is working for you in a way you would never have expected, and you can tell by the way he’s trapped his bottom lip between his teeth that it’s working for him too.

“Do it, cum for me. Inside.”

“Yeah… m’gonna knock you up, pretty girl. Make you a mama again. Fuck-“ His hips push into you hard and you can feel him spilling deep inside you as his mouth crashes into yours. You let him inside you there too, connected everywhere that you possibly could be. He stays tucked inside after he cums, and you whisper love into each other’s ears as you run your fingers up and down his back and over his shoulder blades.

When he finally lifts himself from your chest, propped up and smiling down at you, he surprises you again.

“You and Sam should move in with me.”

⏰

Things were not always perfect, but they usually came pretty close.

Josh had to leave sometimes, which you’d always known, he’d traveled for weeks at a time over the years, sometimes months and while it was never particularly easy, you and Sam got along just fine at home alone. As you always have.

He would call often, as much as he possibly could, and over FaceTime he would tell you all about what’s gone wrong, what’s gone right, and how he wished you were there with him.

“Where’s my boy? Isn't it almost bedtime? Lemme talk to him.”

You called for your now six-year-old who came running into the room, sliding to a stop and jumping onto the couch.

“DAD!! Dad I lost a tooth today, look!” He stretches his lips into a wide grin, showing Josh that one of his front teeth is in fact missing. “Mom said I have a gap like yours.”

You’re stifling a laugh with your palm as Josh flashes his own gap-toothed grin.

“That’s awesome buddy, I heard the tooth fairy is giving out crisp hundred dollar bills for high quality teeth like that one. I hope she delivers.” Your eyes roll back in your head, knowing you’ll have to make that happen. Josh notoriously spoils this kid. “Hey, someone else wants to say hi real quick.”

Josh passes the phone off and you see both of his brothers squeezing together to fit on the screen at the same time. Sam squeals in delight as Uncle Jake and “Big Sam” tell him that they’d heard that front teeth were worth $200.

“Nice hair dude, you’re gonna look just like me soon!”

“No, he looks like me. His namesake.”

Little Sam had decided he wanted to grow his hair out, and you’d let him give it a go. In reality, it just makes him look even more like you but you’ve decided not to hurt their feelings. Which is why you also choose not to reveal the truth, that he’d told you he wanted long hair because “Uncle Jake is so cool, Mom.” Sorry, Sammy.

When Josh takes the phone back, he tells you both how much he loves and misses you, and tells Sam that he better be good because he’ll be home soon and if he’s not good, he won’t get any of the gifts that are packed in Josh’s luggage.

The reunions were sweeter after the two of you had moved into Josh’s house, just a couple months after he’d first floated the idea. He would come home, to your shared home to be greeted first by your little boy and you’d watch as Josh kneeled to the floor to envelop him in a crushing hug that would make them both laugh wildly. He would scoop your baby up as he stood, keep him propped on his hip as he made his way to where you stood. His other arm would circle your waist and he’d pull you in to press his lips to yours, and Sam would make exaggerated sounds of disgust until Josh delivered a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good to be home. I missed you guys so much.”

⏰

“Hey Sam, can you come with me real quick? I need to talk to you about something.”

You lift an eyebrow in question that Josh ignores as he leaves the kitchen with Sam, who’s happy to abandon his homework at the dining table.

Up in Sam’s room, which used to be a second guest bedroom (why Josh needed a house so big when he lived by himself, you’ll never know), Josh sits on his bed and asks him to sit next to him.

“First of all, you need to clean this room. What the hell are you doing up here?” Sam gasps and then giggles. “Don’t tell your mom I cursed.”

“She’s gonna be mad if I don’t go finish my homework.”

“You’re right. And she’s right, she’s always right, don’t forget that.” Sam’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for whatever he needed to talk about. Josh takes a deep breath and Sam knows this is gonna be a long one, Dad talks a lot.

“Sam, I love your mom very much.”

“Duh.”

“Smart ass. Let me finish. I also love you very much, and I’m so lucky to be your dad. Incredibly lucky that she was willing to share you with me.” Sam knows that Josh is not his real dad, but it doesn’t matter to him. “You two are my whole world, you know that?”

Nodding his head, Sam’s hoping he’ll get to the point soon so he doesn’t get in trouble about the homework.

“I wanna ask your mom to marry me. But I wanted to make sure that was okay with you first.” Josh is chewing over his bottom lip nervously while Sam stays quiet.

“Does that mean you’d be my real dad?”

“Oh, buddy I’ll always be your dad. No matter what. But, we could make it more official, if that’s what you and your mom want.” He’s holding back tears that are burning his eyes as his son studies his face.

“Yeah that would be cool. I hope she says yes, you’re kind of a dork.” The tears spill over as Josh laughs loudly, totally and completely in love with the little boy in front of him.

Later that night, long after that pesky homework is completed and dinner has been eaten and dishes cleaned up, after having sent Sam off to bed at least an hour ago, Josh is leaned against the pillows scrolling on his phone. Waiting for you.

The bathroom light goes dark and he looks up to find you leaned against the doorframe of the en suite, draped in a short forest green robe that’s belted around your waist.

“Don’t you look lovely? You know green is my favorite color.”

“No kidding? How fortuitous that I bought a sexy little slip of satin in your favorite color. Who would’ve known?”

Blood is already rushing to his dick, your voice is low and seductive and having the exact effect you’d hoped for. The robe is for show however, and as you walk toward the bed your fingers pull the belt apart, allowing him a glimpse of the bare skin underneath.

“God I love you.”

“Mm, why don’t you show me how much?” As you reach the end of the bed, you let the satin slip over your shoulders and flutter to the ground.

He’d moved quickly to pull you in, limbs and heart tangled with yours, and he showed you how much he loved you, over and over again, leaving you both breathless and sweating, chests heaving as you rested your head against his.

Drawing soft circles over the shape of his muscles, he stopped the motion of your fingers to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips. When you lifted your gaze to his face, he knew anything he had planned wouldn’t compare to this moment

“Flower?” You hum in response, eyes not leaving his as his expression turns serious. “Baby, I want to adopt Sam.”

You push off of him to sit up and see him clearly, whispering, “Really?”

“Yeah. And I think he wants that too. I should’ve talked to you about it first but it sort of just… came up when we were talking earlier. Would you want that?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically before realization hits you and your smile slips. “Josh, I don't think you can if we’re not-“

“Married?” You’re nodding your head again, mouth turned down into a full frown. He sits up to lean into you, a hand coming up to wrap around the back of your neck and pull your lips to his and then rests his forehead against yours, as he so often does. “The thing is, more than anything really, I would love it if you’d marry me.”

Pulling away, eyes wide and jaw slack, you stare at him until he speaks again.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

There’s a ring hidden away, but the plan has been abandoned and he has nothing to offer you right now aside from himself.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, absolutely yes.” You’re crawling into his lap, kissing over his face held in your hands and he’s laughing as your kiss lands on his lips.

When you pull away again, love swimming in both of your eyes, he says, "Thank god, Sam said you might say no because I'm a dork. Am I allowed to start grounding him now?

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf

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#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf fan fiction #gvf fluff #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh gvf

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zoeysdamn · 1 year

Text

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.4

Summary: You remember memories of your childhood with Xavier, hoping to get some courage from it to talk things out with him. Wednesday starts to suspect something, and Principal Weems isn't happy with either of you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, underage drinking, swearing. IMPORTANT: the last part of the taglist had made my tumblr bug so hard so it didn't work, I'm sorry for those who hadn't received a notification while being tagged. If the problem continues for further parts, I'll consider deleting the taglist bc fuck I just lost 40 minutes re-editing this chapter 3 times before finally achieving to post it

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Xavier had been your first kiss. You doubted he remembered it but you definitely did. When your aunt had dropped you at the Thorpe manor for the first time, you were just turning 6 and had that funny haircut that almost hid your eyes. Your aunt Cordelia wasn’t so fond of this hairstyle, but things had been hard for you since your mom’s passing less than six months ago; taking care of the birdnest you were calling hair could wait for the situation to settle down.

Aunt Cordelia had explained to you that you were going to live with a dear friend of hers for some time because she couldn’t take you with her to an upcoming witch congress on the other side of the world. Couldn’t or wouldn’t you didn’t know, to you the only thing that mattered was that you were going to a foreign place, and your mom wasn’t here anymore to comfort you.

“You’ll be fine here,” had assured your aunt while your luggage was taken out of a car by the butler.

“Can’t I come with you?” you had asked again with a wobbling lip and watery eyes.

“You know you can’t pumpkin,” said Aunt Cordelia. “Mr.Thorpe has a son about your age, I’m sure you’ll become friends very fast.”

And just like that, she left, and you found yourself alone in a manor you didn’t know.

Mr.Thorpe had been intimidating but the good thing was he hadn’t more time for you than your aunt did, and as soon he introduced himself to you he left too. So you had fled to your new room and hidden in the closet to cry. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t even want to be raised by Aunt Cordelia ; you wanted your mom, but that was impossible now.

Then, you had heard the creak of the closet’s door being opened and you had timidly peaked up from behind your hand. A little boy was crouching down to your level, looking at you curiously with his big hazel eyes.

“Why are you sad?” he had asked with his childish voice.

Taken aback by his question, you had wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I’m not sad, I’m just lonely.”

He had looked at you curiously; then he had raised his little hand to brush away the hair that was obstructing your face. The gesture had made you flinch a bit, but he was gentle and somehow, you had felt like you could trust this boy. He had beamed, exposing the gap left by a missing tooth.

“You have pretty eyes!” he had exclaimed.

“Thanks?” you had said unsure, still sniffling.

He nodded vigorously, his smile plastered on his chubby face. Then he extended his hand to you. “Wanna get out of here? I know where the cookies are hidden, we can search for them together, it’ll be fun!”

This brought a small smile to your face for the first time in weeks, and you had taken his hand. Within the next few days, you had your hair cut. That’s how you met Xavier Thorpe.

From there, your friendship bloomed. Aunt Cordelia tried to spend at least six months a year with you, and you lived at her house for that time. Well, she tried, and sometimes you found yourself dropped by the Thorpe manor more than intended. This didn’t bother you, you enjoyed Xavier’s company, and you were best friends after all. And considering his own father was also absent frequently, he loved when you were there. When you turned 12, your aunt brought you along on her trips to make a sort of pilgrimage around all the important sites of witchcraft around the world. According to her, it was time for you to learn more about your history and soak up their energy. The trip was so long, you didn’t see Xavier for two whole years. And when you came back to the Thorpe manor at 14, the both of you had changed a lot. Gone was the little boy with scraped knees and round cheeks, the teenager you met at the door was lanky and definitely taller than you now.

“Hey,” he had greeted you with a lopsided grin. The twinkle in his eyes though hadn’t changed the slightest.

“Hi,” you had smiled back. “You’ve let your hair grow,” you noticed.

“You lost the braces,” he counter-attacked, not losing his smile for a second.

He opened his arms and you didn’t lose a breath before diving into the hug. Oh, you had missed him. You had thought that everything would be like usual, but since puberty, you definitely noticed that things had indeed changed between you two. Your aunt asked a little more about Xavier when you went home, and you didn’t look at him the same way. He was more…attractive somehow; you loved the long hair. The same week you came back, the two of you went to a party with some of his friends from the normie school he went to. This wasn’t the first time any of you had alcohol, but it definitely was the first time you got drunk. A silly game was suggested and in your already advanced tipsy state, you and Xavier had thought this would be fun. You remembered vaguely the rules being to spin a bottle and then kiss someone or drink to avoid it, or something. To be honest most of your memories of that night were kind of blurry ; but when the bottle had pointed in your direction and your eyes had met Xavier’s, you distinctly remember your heart missing a beat. Maybe you had thought about protesting or something, maybe your mind had been too cloudy to properly ponder whether or not you should do this. It didn’t matter, because the next thing you knew then, Xavier had leaned to you and had pressed his lips against yours. That’s how you got your first kiss, by kissing your best friend during a drinking game.

The next day the hangover had been so hard, Xavier didn’t remember half of the previous evening, not even your kiss. But you definitely did. Over the years you had forced yourself to push it down, thinking it was only a silly teenagers game and that you shouldn’t get too excited about this.

Thinking about this now, you thought that you had been in love with Xavier for far longer than you imagined. You should have seen it coming, and yet here you were, with flowers slowly growing in your lungs because of your feelings.

You were wandering in Jericho as the other Nevermore students were dispatched in different areas for Outreach day. Principal Weems had reminded you that everyone’s presence was requested for the inauguration ceremony at the end of the day – that yes, even you miss L/N are to attend this. Then she had let you free for the remainder of the day, and you were glad she did. You had a few things to buy at Jericho, this could be the occasion. But while you were making your purchases you were starting to realize that you were only postponing the moment when you’ll eventually have to talk with Xavier.

He had left the Nightshades’ crypt quite upset, it pained you even more to know that he was mad at you. You needed to fix this and fast. So you ended up pushing the Weathervane’s doors open, eyes searching for familiar hazel hair. Enid had texted you where Xavier had the displeasure of working that day and reading the coffee shop's name had made you wince. Hopefully, Tyler won't be working today.

“Hey L/N,” you heard from the counter and you cursed internally. Turning to the counter, you narrowed your eyes at the curly-haired boy.

“Galpin,” you greeted him half-heartedly as you came closer. Ever since what he and his friends had done to Xavier on last year’s Outreach day, you despised him.

“Do you, uh, want to order something?” he asked.

God, the way he acted all innocent and kind made you want to punch him in the face. On any other day you probably would have, but right now you were just drained.

“Sure,” you finally let out, “I’ll have a large cappuccino with two shots of espresso, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said before starting to make your order, and you find a seat next to the window.

For a moment, you put your face in your hands like it would give you some peace for a while. Everything had escalated so quickly, you didn’t even know if there was going to be an actual end to all of this.

The sound of a mug being dropped in front of you on the table made you look up, and the sight of Xavier surprised you.

“Tyler mentioned that you had ordered something,” he explained to your surprised expression.

Glancing to the boy awkwardly standing behind the counter, who tried to look like he was busy and not looking at the two of you, you gave him the slightest nod of the head as a thanks. Xavier sat on the opposite bench, arms plopped on the table nervously.

“Look I–”

“There’s something–” you both started at the same time. It made you chuckle nervously, “Go on,” you pressed him gently.

He passed a hand through his hair nervously, “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick yesterday, okay?”. The guilt in his eyes was evident and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down. “I shouldn’t have called you a liar.”

“No, that’s on me,” you muttered, playing with the still untouched mug. “I’m…not feeling well these days,” you finally admitted.

Xavier’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. To his knowledge, you never had any serious health issues. The flu once in a while maybe, but nothing that sounded that bad. He leaned closer to you over the table, a serious look on his face.

“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed, yet gentle voice.

Suddenly, all the courage you had built up vanished. You had been so confident that you were going to tell Xavier everything, that this was the only way of making things right. You felt like you owed him that, after all, he had everything to do with your condition.

But as you were about to expose the truth to him…something stopped you.

The feeling of a warm hand on your trembling ones made you snap back to reality. Xavier’s face was fully painted in worry now.

“You okay?” he asked. “You zoned out for a second.”

You nodded slowly, gulping. No need to lie to yourself, you knew exactly what was stopping you from telling Xavier everything. The fear of losing him. Deep down you were afraid that if you told him about the Hanahaki disease, and what – who – caused it, he would end up leaving you. And you were far more afraid of losing Xavier than you were of coughing flowers. Because without Xavier, you feared that you'd end up alone again. And you never wanted to ever feel like that again.

Licking your lips, you wondered what you should say to him. So you lied again.

“I’m ill,” you blurted out. “I got sick around a week ago, that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

Technically, you weren’t really lying to him. It had been more than a week since the first symptoms, but the rest was true. You simply choose…not to disclose everything.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, “are you feeling okay? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I had no idea of what it was until recently so…”

“Is this serious?” he inquired again.

Flashes of the pages mentioning the inevitable death of patients appeared in your mind.

“No,” you finally let out. “I’ll get better at some point I’m sure. Bought a few things to make a potion to ease the symptoms.”

Xavier glanced at your bag and nodded. Whether or not he believed you, he didn’t press the matter further.

“I should have been honest with you sooner, it’s just…it had been a couple of rough weeks,” you said with a weak smile.

He nodded in understanding, still you could see he was still worried about you. “Yeah, I get it…between that, Wednesday's arrival and the whole monster thing it had been a little bit crazy, right?”

You slightly frowned at him. It wasn’t it, he was misreading the situation completely! As you were about to say something, you suddenly became very aware of faint whispers around you. So did Xavier apparently because the two of you whipped your heads around at the same time. Glancing behind your shoulder you noticed a group of normies teenagers throwing glances at you, whispering and giggling among themselves. Some of their words reached your ears.

“...think…’re together?...”

“maybe…freaks…from Neverm…”

“...kinda cute…couple…”

You felt your face burn. Not in shame, but for the first time in the possibility of what it implied. Many people had mistaken Xavier and you as a couple before, but it was the first time you truly felt flustered by the idea of it.

Then Xavier pulled his hand off of yours and the sudden loss of contact made your heart drop. He sank into his seat further, putting more distance between the two of you. Eyes flickering to him in disbelief, you only met his sorry expression.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered while casting his eyes away.

You wanted to protest, to say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable at all, but words were stuck in your throat. As were petals.

“I should probably go back to work,” said Xavier while getting up. “But I’ll finish in an hour, if you want to wait?”

“Sure,” you mumbled.

Tears started to burn behind your eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. The light ring of the doorbell made both of your heads turn to Wednesday who had just arrived. Her sole presence, usually not unwelcomed, was dreadful to you and you felt like you were becoming lightheaded. The burning inside your chest bloomed and the whole coffee shop felt suffocating. Raising from your seat abruptly you gathered your bag and vest without a word.

“Where are you doing?” asked Xavier lightly touching your shoulder.

“I’m- I’m not feeling well,” you excused yourself, which made Wednesday raise her eyebrow as she came to your side. “I need some air.” Feeling Xavier’s worried eyes on your back you squeezed the hand on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” you whispered to him.

He seemed to hesitate, but between your pleading eyes and the intense bored expression on Wednesday’s face, he finally conceded.

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

You smiled weakly at him before rushing to the exit, head low. Walking rapidly through the streets you hurried until you found an empty alley which you immediately rushed into before throwing up in a garbage can. The flowers and blood mixed together regurgitated from your sore throat, as quickly as they had appeared within your chest. Tears flooded down your cheeks as the last petals left your mouth. Coughing fits were getting more and more unpredictable. You choked on your own breath, mouth tasting bitter and throat ablaze. If you didn’t do something real quick, you were going to die. But for now, you just felt so, so tired. Weems and the inaugural ceremony be damned, you were going back to Nevermore to sleep your problems away. Then, you’ll take it from here.

In the end, returning to the school to sleep and avoid facing your problems gave you more problems. A few hours later you were standing in Principal Weems’ office alongside Wednesday, getting a lecture about setting Crackstone’s statue on fire.

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t set fire to that statue!” you pleaded to the principal.

“And what evidence of your innocence do you have, miss L/N?” snapped Weems back. “Should you have attended the ceremony like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t have this conversation.”

“I attended this ridiculous ceremony,” noted Wednesday out loud, “yet you’re suspecting me too.”

She shot a deadly glare at your impassable roommate, “And I have every reason to miss Addams. The two of you had good motives to set this statue on fire, and miss L/N had mysteriously disappeared just before the ceremony.”

“I wasn’t feeling well that’s all,” you tried to defend yourself. “Do you really think I’d brand myself a witch in front of all of Jericho? Those people hate my guts, I don’t want to have anything to do with their shitty town!”

Weem’s hand hit her desk with force, “Mind your language, young lady!”

Wednesday only rolled her eyes at the whole ordeal. You on the other hand, were pretty sure she had something to do with it – but unlike you she had a solid alibi. And surprisingly, she stepped in your defense.

“Y/N is right about not feeling well these days,” she interjected, making both Weems’ head and yours snap to her. “She sometimes coughs in her sleep, this is very unpleasant.”

Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at you, “Is that true, miss L/N? Have you fallen ill?”

You nodded slowly, “Just small flu. Must’ve caught a cold during the Poe cup.”

The principal looked pointedly at the two of you, breathing hard through her nostril. Then she threw an accusatory finger at your pair.

“I want,” she articulated slowly, “the two of you out of my office. Now. And I don’t want to ever hear about you either.”

None of you needed to be asked twice. Once in the corridors and far enough from Weems’ office, you turned to Wednesday.

“Thank you for having my back with Weems,” you said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No I didn’t,” she repeated. “I was right, you do cough at night and it is unpleasant.”

That made you frown slightly. None of your roommates shouldn’t have been able to hear you, you still casted the silencing spell every night.

“Since when?”

“About a week,” she said, while narrowing her eyes.

You started to think hard. It had been far more than a week since you had started to cast the spell. This was basic magic, a simple but efficient spell that you had been practising for years. There was no reason for you to fail it. The only logical explanation…was that your magic was weakening. The natural reaction for your mind would be to list every reason for it not to be possible, but then you thought about the sudden stop of your spell during the Poe cup, which had made your boat stop dead in its tracks; and so it added up. The disease had not only damaged your body, but it had also consequences on your powers. This was definitely concerning.

“You are indeed sick, aren’t you?” asked Wednesday. At the surprised look on your face, she quickly added, “Don’t think I care, I’m just readjusting your position on my suspects' list by considering all the parameters.”

You scoffed in disbelief “I’m on your suspect list? No shit, Wednesday?”

“It is perfectly plausible,” she said plainly. “With your powers and knowledge in potions, you have the ability to increase your strength I suspect, and you know the school’s grounds by heart,” you heard her listing, “you’ve spent more time alone than usual for the past weeks, with no one to testify of your presence elsewhere than on the crime scenes, and when I started to suspect Xavier you immediately fled to his defence without proof, like you knew for sure he couldn’t be the monster. So tell me Y/N,” she continued while looking at you dead in the eye, “why couldn’t you be the killer?”

Struck by her question you could only blink in disbelief. What. the. hell?

“Excuse me what?” you articulated after long seconds of silence.

“You should be honored,” she said flatly, “it requires some skills to be added to a potential suspect list.”

“I don’t want to be on a fucking suspect list,” you spat, “you’re delusional Wednesday.”

“My observations and suppositions are rarely wrong, I’m not the one burying herself in denial.”

Stepping closer to her you gritted your teeth together. “I can’t be the monster, I literally can’t.”

“What proof do you have of that?” she retorted.

Fuming, you tried to not play her game. But staying calm in front of her insolent lay back behavior was starting to be incredibly harder. “Drop it,” you spat.

“You’re just proving me right.”

That’s when you lost it, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M FUCKING DYING OKAY?” you roared at her.

For a moment, nothing but echoes of your words resonated within the corridor’s walls. Your ragged breaths contrasted with Wednesday’s neutral expression, unfazed by your scream. Only after a few seconds of a mortifying silence did you realize what you just did because you had lost your nerves. Shutting your eyes tightly you internally prayed that no one around heard you.

“I don’t think you’re lying,” simply said Wednesday.

You let out a scoff, “I’m not, trust me. I’m sick, and my health is deteriorating every day. If you don’t want to believe me that’s fine but leave me the fuck out of your stupid list.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, “Until you’re blessed with black plague, I doubt you’ll die because of whatever sickness you have.”

“God, can you stop being that infuriating for once?” you snapped bitterly. “I’ve done every possible research on the subject and I know I’m doomed, okay?”

A silence took place between the two of you. You whipped away tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. It was the first time you had admitted it out loud ; it hurt more than you thought.

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” said Wednesday quietly ; and now matter how surprised you were by her words, you still thanked her quietly. “Does a cure exist?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you muttered. “It…healing doesn’t depend on me.” At her frown, you lightly shrugged. “Flowers are growing in my lungs because of unrequited romantic feelings,” you explained quietly. “Eventually, I’ll either die from internal bleeding or choking.”

This time, it was her turn to scoff, “You’re plagued with a deadly disease because you have feelings for someone? You just gave me the final proof that feelings are indeed useless, thank you.”

“I don’t fucking need your sarcasm,” you seethed, “if you want to be a stone-cold bitch that’s on you, but no need to mock me for having actual feelings. I didn’t choose this.”

She looked at you closely, like she was trying to figure out something. Which she apparently did rather quickly: “It’s Xavier, isn’t it? He’s the one you have…feelings for.”

You turned your face away, licking your lips. Wednesday was really the last person you wanted to have this conservation with.

“You’re getting weak and you’re losing your powers because you have feelings for a meaningless man,” she repeated. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Fuck off Wednesday,” you cried, finally reaching your breaking point. “I’m not asking to understand, I’m not even asking you to be compassionate but shit, for once in your life be respectful of someone’s privacy.”

With that, you turned away and rushed into the corridors. You didn’t want to hate Wednesday, she had done nothing to you ; even regarding Xavier’s feelings, you were confident that her arrival hadn’t triggered your condition. Maybe it had accelerated it, but sooner or later Xavier would have fallen in love with someone else, and you would have been doomed anyway. So yeah, you didn’t want to hate Wednesday Addams ; but she definitely didn’t make things easy.

A little less than an hour later, you found yourself walking through the school’s woods. The heated discussion with Wednesday had strangely given you enough courage to go and find Xavier, and finally explain everything to him. Weakened by your feelings? My ass! you thought. You were going to tell what was going on with you to Xavier, and to hell with the consequences on your friendship.

You soon reached his artist shed in the middle of the woods. Its reassuring aura made you a little more at ease than the very public space of the Weathervane. Knocking on the door, you waited for Xavier to answer you. When he opened the door, you let out a loud gasp at the wound on his neck.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” you asked while pushing him back inside immediately before coming in. You immediately went to take a look at his bleeding jaw, carefully tilting his chin to the side.

“Just an accident with a painting, nothing too bad,” he tried to reassure you.

“Nothing bad? Xavier, you have claw marks bleeding on your neck, this isn’t some small scratch!”

You could see that he was trying to brush it away, but you forced him to sit on a stool while you inspected the extent of his injuries. It didn’t look so bad, you could probably do something about it. Carefully dragging your fingers on the outlines of the claw marks you whispered a healing spell. The bleeding gradually stopped, and the cells of the skin started to slowly repair themselves. Though it started here, and the marks were still here looking like fresh scars. You gritted your teeth in frustration. With the full extent of your powers, you could have probably healed him completely.

“That should do,” you muttered with a small smile.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “So,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “guess we need to talk, uh?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly, “guess we do.”

You fidgeted with your sleeve, toying with words in your mind. It was always more difficult to launch a subject when the time had come.

“I’m not doing well,” you said, trying to resume the discussion where it had been left out back at the Weathervane, “and I’m not sure if I can really get better…on my own.”

Xavier leaned forward, fully focused on the matter. “How can I help you?”

You almost wanted to cry. He wanted so much to help you while having no idea of how bad the situation was.

“This is…kind of complicated to talk about,” you hesitated. But to your surprise, Xavier gently took your hand into one of his bigger ones.

“Hey,” he called softly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

After a slight hesitation, you nodded slowly. Yet words didn’t seem to come out of your mouth. You started to open your mouth to finally confess, but something caught your eye. A large canvas hung on an easel, all in black and white tones. Like pulled by the invisible force of curiosity you slowly approached it, your hand slipping away from Xavier’s. As you approached and noticed who was painted you felt your heart sink into your chest. The painted figure of Wednesday playing her cello was taunting you, and it painfully reminded you of that night in Xavier’s room, when he had started to sketch it. It reminded you that you had no chance.

Xavier called out for you from behind. But when you turned back to him, he was met with the look of your teary eyes.

“You see, that’s why I can’t tell you,” you whispered sadly, “I can’t spoil this from you.”

“What are you talking about?” he frowned.

“This,” you said, gesturing at the portrait, “I can’t ruin your happiness with my burden, Xav.”

“Y/N please,” he said getting up, “please tell me what’s going on.”

You shook your head, defeated. “I can’t,” you whispered weakly. “Sorry I- I got to go.”

Before Xavier could react you slipped away and rushed outside of the shed. Tears were running down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. It was clear that you could never interfere in Xavier’s feelings for Wednesday, so why bother saying anything to him at all? You heard him call you as soon as you had crossed the door but you didn’t dare to turn back and face him. He managed to grab your wrist when you were barely a few meters away from the shed.

“Please don’t shut me out,” he begged you. You still couldn’t face him on your own, so he gently tucked on your hand, turning you to him. “Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on with you, ‘cause I can guess on my own.”

Hesitantly, you looked up at him. Even though your eyes were blurry because of tears, you couldn’t help yourself but lose yourself in the admiration of his face. His brown eyes, so deep and full of compassion, his sharp features framed by soft hazel eyes…you wanted to print this image in your mind for however long you had still to live. Just like that night in his room, your eyes flickered to his lips. This time you didn’t hesitate, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

He flinched slightly, for the first second. But then he surprised himself thinking how soft your lips felt against his own.

You stayed like this for long seconds. Keeping your eyes closed and savouring the moment, you then realized that Xavier wasn’t moving at all. Biting back the bitter feeling within your guts, you slowly parted from him. Xavier simply stood up there frozen in place ; not understanding why you had kissed him so suddenly. At his lack of reaction and dumbfounded expression, you wanted to cry again so badly. Instead, you looked up at him.

“I wanted to do that at least once,” you whispered. No matter how you had tried to keep them at bay, tears were flooding down your cheeks now.

Still stuck down in place, Xavier didn’t know what to say. But the face of his best friend, teared apart by pain and sadness, was already too much to handle for him.

“I- I’m sorry Y/N,” he muttered, “I don’t…I like you, I truly do but…but not like this.”

Through your tears, you tried to smile ; it was a pathetic attempt. “Yeah…I know,” you whispered weakly.

It would have been easier if you had the ability to vanish away on the spot. It would have made you avoid moving away from Xavier and returning to the school painfully slowly, each of your steps burdened by the weight of your broken heart and the knowledge that Xavier hadn’t even tried to stop you. It would also have saved you from running into Wednesday once again, and hearing her asking Xavier out for the ball in the distance. It would have.

But you couldn’t vanish, instead, you were here shedding every tear you had along bloodied flowers, not even trying to stop either of them.

You just had your heart shattered into a million pieces and the confirmation that there was no hope for you. You were doomed, and the flowers growing inside of your lungs would soon reach your body’s breaking point.

[Part.5]

A/N: Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

(no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnovaa ; @libdarkheart ; @ameliabs-world ; @certifeidlovergirl ; @aeisnoa ; @cat-loves-music ; @coolchick333 ; @eringaitskill ; @sweaterxav ; @sssleepless ;

@l4venderia ; @persipeoni ; @coldheartedmar ; @chaosfrisur ; @littlebabyk ; @pinksirensong ; @nushy ; @raribella ; @igotanidea ; @ali-r3n ;

@cafeaueva ; @queenofshinigamis ; @xxhospital-for-soulsxx ; @imtherealslimmoony ; @one-oblivious-nerd ; @amphitritesangels ; @valckenaux ; @aliciahlewis ; @lilsunshine1092 ; @ell0ra-br3kk3r ;

@hershey2813 ; @ahmya-4 ; @katkoosik ; @maggie-da-rat ; @hopelessnessforthehopeful ; @mk-the-great ; @neenieweenie ; @steviesbergthuis ; @rayliz793 ; @poison-ivy-737 ;

@katiemrty ; @vanillaarr ; @corpsebridenightamare ; @ghswlz ; @siriusblacksl0ver ; @poppyalice2001 ; @mypsychoticlove ; @jointherebellion215 ; @siriwhitewolf ; @miinnttyy ;

@teaganthemorningstar ; @oblivion-void ; @fandomstoryreader25 ; @darkdaydreamer ; @engenelxver ; @maddiechapman15 ; @hannahnikohl ; @pajerita19 ; @i-like-trains ; @tinafuentes ;

@slngarza ; @lqveharrington ; @honethatty12 ; @users09 ; @honestlyka ;

Usernames not found by Tumblr and notified by DM:

@flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo3475 @engenelxver @2000bitf @hes-club

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #wednesday #wednesday addams #reader insert #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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lollytea · 4 months

Note

(About the Dana post)

ALSO LIKE. THE WAY HE WAS PROBABLY IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING ELSE AND THEN JUST. DID THAT.

Like he's holding a clipboard! I'm willing to bet Willow just slid under him with some encouraging chant to hype up the team, and Hunter just went "ah yes spot for me"

What if I explode

YEAHHHHH!!! Talking about this sketch and the implications makes me very unwell. Also the little gesture of happily resting his chin in her palm is just like something a sweet doggy would do before looking up at you with confused yet earnest eyes and then wagging his tail hopefully. He's so doggy like to me. Do you know what I mean? You know what I mean <333

Agsbdjnk the clipboard. A silly little sketch but with visual storytelling. It's absolutely tryouts or something similar. I imagine that Willow is the only EE player that is dedicated to playing longterm while the others have a lot of fun during their time on the team but eventually move on to other ventures after a year or two. Once Boscha improves her behaviour after FTF, I could see Skara wanting to return to playing grudgby. She seemed to really love it. So Willow and Hunter are on the ball near immediately to find a replacement. And with the Flyer Derby renaissance Willow has lowkey started at Hexside, there's a way bigger turn out than the last time she needed recruits.

Judging by Hunter's level of relaxed contentment and Willow not giving it much notice, a good chunk of time has passed since the events of W&D. They're very attuned to each other, having probably been joined at the hip for a while now.

(We're gonna ignore the fact that Hunter doesn't have his post TTT scars. Presumably Dana just forgot agsbdjk.)

Definitely post grom I imagine. If you compare Hunter's body language in both pics

In the left pic, I don't think he's unwilling to be touched. He's definitely excited about wherever the FUCK this is going. But he looks stiff and his smile is twitchy, clearly nervous. Which implies that he's not that used to Willow being so touchy with him and he's a little out of his depth. My headcanon is that grom was when they officially got together, after months of situationship shenanigans. With that little idea in mind, this is just the beginning of their relationship.

When it comes to the pic on the right, I imagine it's also quite early in the dating stage. Early enough that they've only just broached the exciting world of more intimately affectionate touches. Which Hunter has evidently not built up an immunity to yet. Still melts every time.

Yeah that is definitely a boy who has only been in a relationship long enough to discover that he loves the feeling of his face being held, but also a boy who's so comfortable in his relationship that he's not shy about seeking out affection when he wants it. Even in public.

So he's still swoony but not shy about it anymore. So I'd say a few weeks-a month or two into dating.

(Also the haircuts align with this little timeline I've made up in my head. Willow has cut her hair short for grom, while it's in the season 2 short stubby braids during tryouts. So it HAS grown out but only a little. Meanwhile Hunter's hair has grown out a bit during grom, but looks recently trimmed during tryouts. There's no real significance to this. I watched a Dana livestream once where she said she'd rather just draw short hair Hunter because the long hair noodle is annoying to draw. But asgbknk! I like to make up implications where there are none. Anyway my hc is that Willow and Hunter do not just decide on a signature hair length and keep it forever. They spend the next three years bouncing back and forth between long and short styles.)

ANYWAY Willow is absolutely hyping Hunter the fuck up as the Golden Star of her team!! The best and the brightest!! Her pride and joy as a Captain. The purpose is to get the candidates all excited to do their best to get a spot on this epic team so they can play alongside him, but Hunter misinterprets Willow's praise as sweet talk and smiles and blushes appropriately.

Agsbdjnk it's so funny. He totally understood that the goal was to get their potential players PUMPED and he was excellently playing along with riling them up. But that glowing review of his character distracted him and now he thinks they're flirting. So the super cool badass disposition he had adapted for the newbies was promptly thrown out the window because hehehehe my girlfriend is so nice to me 🥰 Bro has forgotten where he is. Head empty.

So when Willow juts out a hand to aggressively present ✨️Him✨️ to the audience, Hunter's already gooey brain just says put chin in hand because sweet girl soft girl my girl.

Willow is a little thrown off but when she feels the weight of his face but just rolls with it and keeps going. She even gives him an affectionate little caress. I think she recognizes that he's misunderstood the tone a bit and has decided to not tell him. He usually gets very embarrassed when its pointed out that he's made a social error and she doesn't wanna do that to him. It's harmless and its cute, who cares? He's a little confused but he's got the spirit.

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agendabymooner · 11 months

Text

if not for you ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member! ofc) // toto w.

SPIN OFF for COLOUR ME YOUR COLOUR and RUSH

"there'll be no spring if not for this love of mine"

summary: posts and tweets exchanged between lester and others during the baku race weekend as she babysat toto and tilly wolff's children. OR chaos ensues in the paddock and the hospitalities as the wolff kids and an asshole ex-lover (is he really?) made their presence known to almost anyone

content warning: character-centric, mentions of questionable man, appearance of characters not yet shown in the series colour me your colour, toto wolff being canonically fashionable, use of explicit language, faceclaims used for the kids, danny is full on babygirl in the instagram comment section. f1 drivers being messy.

note: sorry for the awol guys, i was walking my fish. tomorrow is the start of the canadian gp 2023 and i am sad that i am not there. maybe next year when i have the money? or maybe when i work for pr. who knows. since i'm not there, i'm just celebrating and writing this.

ALSO!! should i do a blurb or something relating to lester babysitting the paddock kids- like the wolff kids? i've started on it but...

enjoy xx

masterlist

[first image dialogue: i don't normally look at the time because i dress faster than this. i even dress ren and tia for less than seven minutes and they're always dressed nicely for their music classes]

[second image: if they're dressed ten minutes after, that's not my doing; toto dresses them and he struggles a lot. he mostly gets them ready if he's taking them to work or if i'm off to a meeting in milton keynes]

[third image: we've made a lot of trips to ralph lauren and tommy hilfiger because he thinks that he can just mix and match the clothes that we got there for the bunch. said it's a "capsule wardrobe." that's what happens when you're married to a fashion expert, i suppose.]

[fourth image: you'll be able to know if he dresses them once you see the jumper/dress shorts/trousers combo or the dress/jumper combo. you'll know he did the preparing if tia's hair is put in place with a hair clip. she loves it when her papa puts in barrettes in her thin hair.]

tagged tillywolff, mercedesamgf1, redbullracing

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carlossainzjr ay, i didn't know they were running a barber shop! i need a haircut

tillywolff i don't recall buying that toy set for them 🧐

charles_leclerc maman said to get it for them so it can remind them of their mamé pascale

tillywolff thank you so much for taking care of ren and tia! i've been told they enjoyed being with their zia lori. maybe you can take care for adelmo next time? liked by loressandro

loressandro i will definitely set up a playroom for the next time!

landonorris thank you so much tillywolff for the best hairstylist ever 😇 i got the best trim in the grid right now and no one can outdo it

mercedesamgf1 boss is asking who's responsible for allowing one of the wolff puppies drink red bull? just asking for research purposes 😊

charles_leclerc maxverstappen1

lewishamilton maxverstappen1

user1 LMFAOOOO not lewis and charles snitching on their in-law 😭

charles_leclerc user1 i need to be in toto's good graces again.

maxverstappen1 it's a red bull water bottle 💀 stop trying to push me back at the starting level mf charles_leclerc

user2 those kids are so toto coded 🥰

user3 if you can survive lando, you can survive the wolff kids 🙌 liked by loressandro

danielricciardo if you can survive the wolff kids, you can survive our kids 😘 liked by loressandro

thomasraggi_ yeah but try surviving her kids 💀

ykaaar you're about to have the BEST years of your life, danny

ethaneskin alessandro-ricciardo kids bout to treat the tracks like mario kart deluxe 🤡

loressandro guys please... this is the only man who's willing to put up with me. stop scaring him away

danielricciardo i'm not scared, i am challenged 😎

landonorris danielricciardo mental health wise? bc same.

danielricciardo when are we having our little ricciardo??

loressandro depends if your swimmers are still working in few months or years. also if you stop laughing at your own nephews and nieces, dickhead

danielricciardo got it ma'am. anything just to have your kids <3

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thegorydamnreaper · 7 months

Text

Symbolism in Red Rising: Hair (Darrow)

So this started as a conversation about why Darrow should be drawn with long hair, but then I started having Thoughts anddddd here we are. Spoilers for the whole series up until the end of Light Bringer, so you’ve been warned!

(Also putting it under the cut, because this accidentally turned into an essay.)

In the mines:

He has long-ish hair, enough that it’s held back by the sweatband but not enough to tie up. He could keep it short and avoid the hassle, so why let it grow out? Because hair is deeply important to Reds culturally! Reds use hair for their wedding bands, because they place value in it. That value can be taken from a few things - it’s theirs, and not something that can be taken away, it shows their Color, it’s a part of themselves that they can share with another, growing hair/having healthy hair is a sign of being fit. All of this means an early cultural emphasis on hair for Darrow.

It’s also interesting to note that Darrow is pulled away from Eo by his hair right before she sings.

From Red to Gold:

One of the final steps in his Carving is Mickey transplanting his hair, and interestingly enough that seems to be the final mail in the coffin for Darrow on his transformation into a Gold:

“Mickey takes my hair next. Everything is changed.” (Red Rising, Ch 12)

So not only is hair deeply rooted in cultural importance, but it’s also a visual symbol that ties people to their family as seen here:

“You have made me give up the hair Father gave me, the eyes Mother left me, the Color I was born to, so I will keep the name they granted me, and you can make it work.” (Red Rising, Ch 13)

The caste system in RR means that these visual markers are critical to self identity, something that Darrow really struggles with for a long time.

As a Gold:

His first haircut comes after his final transformation into a Gold, and is done by Evey. This is the “fresh start” moment, the point where his Gold status is at its lowest and he has the most to prove - but he also has a clean slate. He’s physically and mentally more capable than ever, but hasn’t been put to the test. Where other Golds have entire histories to live up to, at face value Darrow has nothing to lose.

In the Institute:

Hair styles are taken very seriously at this point, and in a way they end up being signatures of who these characters are, even as the plot takes them on far-flung journeys. It’s interesting that at this point Darrow let’s his hair grow out, and keeps it long whenever possible. But unlike the others he doesn’t adorn it in any way, but just by having it long he’s making a statement about his strength. His hair is long because no one has cut it (taken it as a trophy), and he’s a good enough leader/fighter that he can afford to wear his hair in such a way that an enemy could grant it. The Howlers also begin taking scalps at this point - beyond just a painful and humiliating tactic, it’s also akin to taking the “crowns” of their defeated foes. Golden hair/golden crown - and Darrow has his through the institute. It’s also interesting to note that his duel with Cassius is one of the few times hair isn’t involved in his defeat, and I think that’s because on some level Darrow believes that it was an earned punishment, so I wouldn’t categorize it as a true defeat.

The Academy:

His hair is still long, pulled back simply once again. To some degree this is to emulate Nero and the Peerless trends, but it also shows that he’s still winning. Until of course we get to the garden and the Bellonas shame him and Cagney chops his hair off - symbolic of cutting him down from his seat of power.

“She smiles in my face and looks at my hairline, lips parted with excitement of dominating another person.” (Darrow about Cagney, right before she cuts his hair, Golden Son Ch 3)

This all has a lot of parallels to the Samson & Delilah story (hair cut/power lost in a moment of weakness, is able to regain power when he’s back on his true path), which we see play out as we get to…

The Gala:

We’re back at long-ish hair (~2 months after the Cagney incident), like in the mines. Back at square one with Darrow once again at almost-rock bottom. But it’s at this point where he reveals his razor training, has a rematch with Cassius, takes the Morning Star, and overall just has a great time becoming a living legend. Until, well, he’s stabbed in the back by one of his closest friends.

Rescue (Morning Star):

Once again Darrow is being forced into a haircut, though in his choice of words it’s a “scalping.” Once again, hair being taken as a trophy to humiliate someone.

“Dirty blond hair puddles onto the concrete as the Gray finishes scalping me with an electric razor. ” (Morning Star, Ch.3)

Also interesting to note, this is the first time we get the very controversial ~beard~. My take on the beard is that it’s symbolically not good, and signals a lack of control/autonomy over Darrow’s world down to even his own appearance. He’s at a loss with how to proceed, and is very nearly broken by his time with the Jackal. So I’m sorry, but if Darrow is sporting a beard, he’s not in a great place.

Stick with me, because after the time skip more Things are happening.

Iron Gold:

Chapter one hits us with this:

“These Gold eyes and hair feel more my own than those of that boy who lived in the mines of Lykos. That boy grew, loved, and dug the earth, but he lost so much it often feels like it happened to another soul.”

Even ten years later there’s a part of him questioning his own identity, and his outward appearance is a huge part of that. Is he a Gold, destined for cold brutality, or is he still a Red at heart? Personally I believe that defining himself by either is limiting, but it’s sweet to see his inner struggle to avoid becoming like the monsters he’s fighting.

Then there’s this scene with Virginia:

“She reaches up, dragging her slender fingers through my hair.” (Iron Gold, Ch. 3)

It’s the only time on-page his hair is touched with a loving gesture, not with any force or blunt practicality.

Later on in IG we get this near miss:

“He grabs my hair with an armored hand and saws on the front of my forehead to claim my scalp.” (An Obsidian attacking Darrow, Ch 54)

Literally immediately after this he’s saved by Apollonius. Near miss in battle, near miss in losing his hair again.

Dark Age:

The main theme of this book is a slow defeat, and once again Darrow’s hair parallels this. With the constant radiation his army has all lost their hair by chapter 32, and continues to feel the effects as the book progresses. This book is one of the few times in the series where Darrow actually suffers a huge loss - Alex, his legion, his ship, his best friend, his wife, his son - are all taken from him by the end.

Light Bringer:

The first physical descriptions of the characters we get is this:

“Nearly all of us are bald and those who can wear beards in remembrance of Ragnar.” (LB Ch 2)

This sets the tone of the book in a lot of ways. There’s a remembrance and acknowledgement of the past. There’s also a sense that they’ve just been through hell, but hey at least they’re alive. And it’s a sign that they’re healing and recovering from the horrors of Mercury, which is a slow and at times ugly process.

We get this take from the scene with Apollonius:

“Hardly meriting a glance for Cassius, his eyes search me, relish me, devour every last centimeter of me, noting my diminished size, my grizzled beard, my pale skin, and shortened breath.” (LB Ch 8)

And these quotes from Virginia:

“He’s encountered radiation, and his hair has only started growing back. He has a beard, a terrible, hairy beard. But the change I sense runs deeper than the physical. His restless anxiety is not gone, but it is muffled by a solemn maturity. Nothing grants wisdom like loss.” (LB Ch 34)

“But I look at Darrow and I don’t see a savior. I see an exhausted, bearded survivor stumbling home without the ships or the men to turn the tide. ” (LB, Ch 34)

I think that she says enough about what the beard outwardly signifies. Not one to mince words here our Sovereign.

Further into the book while Darrow is putting himself back together there’s this:

“My mass is returning like the hair on my head. I’ve kept the beard. For some reason it helps me to feel like I’m on a mission.” (LB Ch 37)

He’s on a mission for an army/ships etc, but he’s also on a mission to heal himself. The beard is a part of that.

Matteo’s comments on it:

“Darrow of Lykos. You have a beard!” (LB Ch 37

“Matteo surveys my injured limbs, my sun-seared-turned-sun-starved skin, my fresh scars. Instead of looking away, as most do, to preserve his image of the invulnerable Reaper, he admires my imperfections, catalogues the wounds to understand my narrative, and then loves me all the more for them. Though I can tell he doesn’t like the beard.” (LB Ch 38)

It’s worth noting that Matteo is accepting of everything else, but specifically disapproves of the beard - which means it’s not just vanity. This is a man who’s known Darrow since he was Carved, and has spent his whole life dedicated to interpreting mannerisms and outward appearances, and had spent a lot of time with Darrow specifically. He knows that the beard is not a good sign.

Lyria (who is very observant throughout the books) chimes in here:

“Unlike Sevro, he still has his beard. He seems a different creature than the commander I saw in the war room. Tired, smaller somehow. His left hand has a tremor. His neck’s stooped, body contracted.” (LB Ch 63)

Sevro has processed what he needs to, Darrow still has work to do.

Which brings me here, to what I think is the best way to conclude this analysis:

“I catch myself in one of the room’s mirrors. I look like his ghost. But I’m not. In his bathroom I search for a razor. Then I laugh, because I remember one of the old stories about him. When he was a lancer, his Praetor told him to go shave because Peerless are beardless, boy. Lorn pulled out his razor and did it right there. I shave my beard with Bad Lass in his bathroom mirror. In this way I say goodbye to him and Ragnar both. I do a sloppy job and cut myself a few times.

“Wait. Who are you and what did you do with the ancient mariner?” Cassius says when I exit without a beard.”

Darrow has beaten Fá and exposed Atlas’s plot. He’s basically secured the Obsidians back to his cause. He’s made peace with himself and Athena about the Sons of Ares he turned in. He’s got the beginning of an alliance with the Rim. He’s made peace with Lorn’s ghost about Alex, and peace with himself about it too. Pax is safe, Cassius and Sevro are back at his side. He’s finally himself again.

There’s maybe a few quotes that I missed or chose not to include, but I think this timeline is a pretty extensive timeline of Darrow’s symbolic hair journey. If anyone has further analysis or thoughts, please add!!

#red rising #light bringer #darrow of lykos #howlers #pierce brown #iron gold #darrow au andromedus #sons of ares #mypost

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