#another one to add to the drawing board

[thepeonysbackup]

◇Dry Humping◇

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gumbo, a soup that brings out more then just the taste of its ingredients, but desire from within from a source only taste can trigger. A broth that acts as a honey sculpted cup that holds the aphrodisiac to the minds most fondest of memories. Affection. That is its purest name.

Tags: Mdni, boring plot, dub con (She ultimately enjoys it), dry humping, something I came up with on the spot.

Word count: 2.2k (not proofread)

Request: Yes/No

Part two at: 600 notes!🎉

As you stirred the ladel within the large deep pot from your place at the stove, atop your stool with your apron. You gently leaned over the pot as steam rose, inhaling the heated air so you could smell your progress, it was daring to graze the mark of heavenly, much to your excitement as you shifted to finish chopping up the vegetables that were set up on a chopping board on the off side of the stove as the radio played soft jazz in the background.

Being the kind and sweet little vixen you were, you thought you'd do the hotel a favor by cooking the rest of the staff a meal. Taking care to check on the individuals before you went all in on your choice. Angel wanted Asian food, claiming that he'd seen one of the girls at his work snacking on rice balls and wanted some too. Husk said he'd been craving seafood, groaning about how none of the places near the hotel had anything good to sell. Vaggie was bias, 'okay with whatever was cooking in your noggin' in her own words while Charlie urged you to surprise her with excited squeal. Nifty had ended up finding you before you could her, and then handed you a bag of maggots that were still very much alive and asked for a paste. Creepy, but you said okay before actually thinking it through. Pentious had taken a rather long while of thinking before he settled on soup, he wanted a tomato soup. That left you puzzled at what you could possibly make for everyone to equally enjoy, because fusing palletts with rices and seafood was a breeze, but adding a soup into the mix? Oh dear, your idea was becoming difficult to come into flourishan as you trekked down the halls of the hotel to locate the facility manager and overlord whom was currently residing in his pocket dimension like room, which never seemed to stay in a singular one of them, but shift everytime he wanted it moved. So it was a game of chance, knocking on every door you knew as vacant before finally having one opened by the smiling radio demon. He held his cane in the same hand that he had for the door, the other arm folded behind him as he tilted his head to the right in question down at you. "A meal, you say? My, I was going out this evening but I must ask what it is!" He had enthusiastically voiced through his static, but when you said you hadn't decided yet because of how different everyone's cravings were he seemed interested in also giving an option to you. "You always choose Jambalaya, why not another meal?" You complained while thinking of what you could do with all these choices. "I'm afraid it's Jambalaya, my dear. Unless you have any access to some truly delicious venison!" He chuckled out, lightly twirling his cane in his hand as he tapped it on the ground so he could lean his chin on the handle. This was so unfair, what could you possibly make that would—

"Wait, Jambalaya- Jambalaya, Cajun‐ Cajun means that rice, shrimp and- Yes, wait, hold on- Soup- Tomatoes- Vegetables and add extra meat like chicken and venison—" You babbled quickly aloud, drawing Alastors attention a bit more. He cocked a brow at you, lips thinning out as he grinned at your unintelligible banter, "My Dear, you must speak up. I simply can't understand anything when you mumble." He straightened himself up so he could examine his nails as you let out an excited noise, in all fairness it was so sudden that he had every right to tense up as you grabbed his arms suddenly in a tight grasp so you could pull him towards you, "You're a Genius Al, thank you!" You beamed, bouncyness following your stride as you began to quickly make your way back down the hallway to the stairs after letting him go like you hadn't even realized that his static was buzzing like a hornet around the two of you. You were something alright.

As you had just finished throwing the rest of the vegetables into the pot, you pulled out the spices from the lazy susan on the counter, choosing the more mild spices and only about four drops of tabasco before the basil and parsley were dashed in on top. Now the lid was placed, holding in the mouth watering scents that were to come later when they were ready. The music continued, your figure bopping gently around the kitchen as you began to get the plates ready with the rice, plopping large scoops into the bowls so you could hallow them out by pressed them inward with the bottom of the ladel you were using. At the bottom of each of the rice bowls you'd made, you added thoroughly cooked slices of venison to everyone's except Al's and Niftys. Those two were getting their own special snacks added in, the maniacs. Al's bowl got raw, uncooked deer meat at the bottom instead that and a few on a plate below his bowl that had the maggot paste for the side dip. Niftys maggot paste was poured into her bowl and topped with raw shrimp and then the cooked venison. After all of them were prepped, you picked up a rag and wiped your forehead because all you had to do was wait just a bit longer.

"Ah, so you're really cooking. I would have assumed the hotel would be in flames if anyone else were to take a chance in this room, of course Nifty can make some delicious demon spik."

"Haha, very funny Al." Your back was facing the radio demon, ears on alert as his footsteps slowly but casually drew him over to your bubbling pot, inhaling while lightly using his hand to bring the scent of the steam rising from the sides of the lid. He made a delighted noise, static almost completely gone as his claws grasped the handle of the lid and tugged it off, steam bursting upwards to show the contents within. “Well, this sure isn't Jambalaya but by good golly it's gumbo! How clever of you, little darling!” He spoke loudly, amused and seemingly with a truly gleeful smile on his face as his other hand grabbed your waist to pull you near him as he examined your work, nose catching whiff of a different scent near as well. “And if my nose doesn't deceive me," He inhaled deeply near your ear, nose just barely grazing your cheek as he leaned further up until his head was resting above yours, using his height to allow himself to break character for a moment, his eyes turning wide with dials fixed in the center as blood stains began to run down his chin from how hard he was grinning,

"₮Ⱨ₳₮ ĐɆⱠɆ₵₮₳฿ⱠɆ ₴₵Ɇ₦₮ ł₴ VɆ₦ł₴Ø₦.."

The harsh sound of his static made you wince, body tensed further, “Yes, I thought it would be a nice addition, the meats flavor is a bit different and so when you eat it with the broth i-it tastes mildly spicier then without it.” His voice buzzed, a satisfied noise leaving him as he side stepped around you, now back to his normal cheery grin as he took hold of one of the raw slabs of venison and dangled it above his mouth before slowly opening his jaws like a snake threatening to attack. Then, with a swift move, he clamped down on the thin piece of meat and tore it out of his hand in a single whip of her head to the side. “Truly a marvelous snack you've provided here, darling doe.” His nicknames were slowly progressing to more dearing comparisons, making you flush as you lifted you ladel and placed it back into the pot to stir it, but not before you climbed back onto your stool to do so.

-

Time went by as you cooked, Alastor remaining hovering with his quiet buzz of static as he enjoyed the meat that you had to offer, the fact that you had taken so much time just to get everything you had needed for him making him feel as though he was more important, even if you were making dinner for everyone. His eyes held true to your figure, that smile that forever kept its place on his face widening as he slowly lost himself in thought as he observed your lips lightly shy away from the utensil you'd pulled from the hot boil to get a taste of the broth, the contents being too hot to consume so suddenly before you blew on it. He reveled in the way you moaned at the creamy liquid, eyes shutting blissfully as a hand came to cover your lips like it would hide the long trickle of the broth from his sight. No, he saw it, and how he craved to be the very thing that would lick the taste off you, the tongue that would replace your own that darted so quickly out to take the drop for itself. That, nostalgic.. that warm and soft, dare he say heavenly taste from your lips, from your tongue. Alastors static began to grow in volume, his body inching closer to yours on the stool as he felt a growing pain from below at your half bent over form over the stovetop. “Do you often leave yourself so openly vulnerable to just anybody.. or… Am I just lucky?” He asked, suddenly right against your ear from behind, both hands atop each of yours as his physique pressed you into the dangerously hot Kitchenware. “What?-” You had asked, bewildered at the sudden change in atmosphere the room was in just moments ago. 

Alastor hadn't really heard you, ears pressing back into his head as he pressed his crotch against the plush softness of your ruffled skirt, lightly moving the fabric of his bulge against your rear in slow rolls of his hips. It was sudden, hesitant almost, as if Al hadn't been planning for this to happen whatsoever. “I asked you a question, hmpf- d-dearest..” He hushed against the back of your neck, nipping it with his teeth with a hiss, his hands that had yours pinned down gripping harder to keep you in place as the stretchy fabric of your skirt rode up on your ass at the force used in his motions. The friction had you boggled in the brain, a few noises of concerned pleasure rising up into your throat as you thought hard about his question. “Ahn- N—no-..” She answered, earning a tut from the overlord behind her, the fabric of your panties were getting bunched up and pulled down about half way, “That's not a proper answer, now is it Mon Cher?” A little cry escaped you, the feeling of his pants rough texture against your soft petals making tears of overstimulation well in your big doe eyes. “I-I— I don't know- I can't- Ouu- Fuck!-” Alastor hushed you, a hand freeing one of yours so his could trail up to your neck so it could wrap around it in a firm grip. Your pretty face being cranned upwards and back so he could see the fucked out blissful expression on your face as your own hand reeled back to hold fast against his hip, a last attempt to push him away being futile as his movements became more spurred by you noises, faster and faster. "Such vulgarity," He groaned into your ear, breath hot and growling excitedly, "Speak again, speak to me. Tell me how you crave more, Mon Cher-" Your voice called to him, his name slipping past your lips like a hymn, a lament, a song.

Oh, how he adored your voice, strained and laced with need.

How he desired more as the coil in his mind snapped, antlers growing in size as he hunched over and into your back, head lightly using you as stability while his demonic form grew, long arms and gnarly claws digging into your clothes enough to tear the flesh, not only fabric. The dials of his eyes spun, his legs buckling as your bare cunts juices flowed lazily down his front, the warmth he felt as he released as well pulling a guttural growl from his throat as the both of you eased into a slower more controlled pace.

This hadn't gone as planned, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

#happy hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut

[allfearstofallto]

I Wonder if You Look Both Ways When You Cross My Mind

Yandere! Lyney x Fem! Reader

Part of {Mai Playlist}

“I'd like to give one last thank you to my assistant, Lynette,” Lyney called to the large crowd, before turning to you who still stood nervously on the stage. All the hot lights and loud cheering had you stiff as a board, wondering if your idleness made the show boring. But he still lifted your hand and placed a chaste kiss upon the back of it, “And another thank you to my wonderful audience volunteer.”

Another round of applause rang through, followed by a bow from Lyney and the curtains falling. Once all of the many eyes were off you, you felt as if your shoulders could finally slump, you could relax. Lyney, still gripping your hand stroked his thumb across it, a gentle smile on his face. You were starstruck at being able to meet the Lyney, not able to pull away from him and barely even being able to speak, other than what would be considered typical fangirling jurgen.

“You were an excellent volunteer,” he praised you while mystically pulling a flower from the sleeve of his shirt, “And a rather beautiful one at that, if you don't mind me saying. Have you ever considered acting? Maybe in a certain magician's troupe?”

You flushed from his bombardment of compliments, your hands trembling around the stem of the ruby red rose, “Oh, I could never-” you began to deny, but one of his hands was already at your cheek, calming you before you could speak ill of yourself.

“Nonsense,” He hushed you, “A beauty like you needs to be seen by the world, don't you think?”

Stage fright was the least of your problems. You found yourself lacking in fluidity, stiff when eyes were on your and not interesting to look at. Not eccentric and loud like Lyney, but not cold and captivatingly mysterious like Lynette. There was nothing you could do that would add to an already complete show, so politely, you declined.

“Of course,” Lyney said, seeming like he was forcing the words through gritted teeth. When you turned to leave, he squeezed your hand, a little too tightly, almost painfully. You let out a yelp and looked back at him, but he let you go with a playful laugh and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

You found yourself at another Lyney show only a few nights later, having luckily won a ticket in a random drawing, much to your surprise, but you weren't upset about it. The energy of the crowd was almost addicting and the show never dull. Even though he seemed to perform everyday, Lyney had a way of making his set fresh, keeping it from ever growing boring.

Then came the part where a number was drawn, choosing which lucky audience member would join him on stage. Familiar butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you remembered your own number being picked during the last show. That same mixture of joy and fear. The crowd waited with bated breaths for who's number would be called.

“Seat number 47,” Lynette spoke softly into her microphone. Hushed whispers traveled across the room, waiting for the person who's number was called to stand. For you to stand. It was your seat number.

You could hear whispers about how you'd been chosen only a few days earlier as your feet that felt like lead carried you towards the stage. Lyney, once again, took your hand and helped you up, the same as before. Your body shook as you nervously smiled up at the man, who held your hand as he walked you to the center of the stage, eyeing you the entire time and not once the crowd.

“I should tell you, my darling audience that this decision was indeed rigged,” he squeezed your hand again as a wave of murmurs filled the room. Somehow those words made your heart drop to your stomach as sweat began to pool on your forehead, “I couldn't think of another way to introduce my newest partner and my perfect girlfriend,”

Dumbfounded didn't begin to describe the look on your face, nor the bewilderment you were feeling. You tried to see if he was referring to anyone else, but you were truly the only person on the stage and almost as if to prove his point, the back of your hand was kissed, his deep blue eyes lingering on your face as he gestured for the crowd to applaud again.

“I am a man that's not easily charmed, yet she truly took my breath away,” noises of interest followed and all you could do was stand there, opening and closing your mouth, unable to think of what to say. You could barely stand silently in front of a large crowd, let alone tell them that something was wrong.

So when Lyney leaned forward, pressing his cold lips against yours and placing a hand on the small of your back, you did nothing. When he pulled from that kiss, flashing you an almost sinister smile with eyes that looked empty, your voice bitched in your throat, almost keeping you from speaking a word.

“Forgive me for my vulgar actions, my dear audience!” Another statement spoken to the crowd as he held you firmly in place, “I simply can't keep my hands off of my sweet, my darling, my love, ma chérie!”

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere lyney x reader #yandere lyney #genshin lyney x reader #lyney x reader

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 1 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, breeding kink and lots of it, fingering, oral (f! receiving)

WC: 2k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 1998

Your head rests on Eddie’s thigh, cheek pressed against the cotton sweatpants serving as his pajamas. His fingertips dance along your shoulder in comforting circles, the other hand digging into a bag of peanut M&Ms and dropping several into his mouth at once. 

Harris is sleeping in bed, his little eyes having drifted closed halfway through his second bedtime story. You’d laughed softly, kissed his forehead, and closed the door as quietly as you could. 

On the TV screen, Phoebe Buffay prepares to give birth to triplets while Joey’s learned that his sympathy pains are actually kidney stones. 

The candy shell crunching ceases as Eddie speaks over the characters’ dialogue. “You ever think about that?” he asks, jerking his chin towards the monitor. 

“Having three babies at once?” You wrinkle your nose, tugging the fleece blanket up a bit higher. You adjust your position so you can see his chocolate-smudged lips. “Only in my nightmares.”

Eddie laughs, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his doe eyes. “N-No, just, like…having a baby?” His front teeth scrape his lower lip nervously while he awaits your response. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I definitely want to have kids with you. And I know Harris is dying for a sibling to play with,” you add teasingly, though your words are true. He’d come home from school last week claiming that his friend Joshua’s mommy was having another baby, lamenting that it wasn’t fair because Joshua already had a sister. “I can’t wait to add some more Munsons to our little family.”

“Okay, yeah,” Eddie nods, swallowing thickly. “So, um, what exactly are we waiting for?”

The question makes you sit up, pushing yourself with your palms, so you can look him in the eyes. “We’ve only been married for a few months…” you trail off, unsure what to say next, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie leans in and silences you with his lips on yours. Tiny, passionate kisses, his smile rendering him unable to draw them out longer. 

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he murmurs, nose gently bumping yours. Four fingers are tucked behind your ear, his thumb delicately grazing your cheek. “There’s no rush, ‘kay? No Baby Munsons until you’re totally on board.”

“What if I’m ready, too?” You kiss him, body buzzing with nerves just from having this conversation. An excited giggle slips out, and you drape your arms over his shoulder to straddle his waist. “What if I want to start trying?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs; he swears he’s hit the jackpot with you. “Then I say…to hell with those pesky birth control pills.” He kisses you again, peppering them all over your face and neck. “C’mon, Sweetheart. Let’s make a baby.”

It’s a few weeks later when Eddie breezes through the apartment door after work, kicking off his Reeboks in the general direction of the hall closet. His weary expression shifts to a joyous one when he sees you walk out of the bedroom with a knowing grin on your face. 

“What’s that little smirk for, hmm?” he teases, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him. An autumn chill sticks to his leather jacket; you shiver as the cold fabric brushes your bare arms. “And where’s the other troublemaker?”

“Harris is at Wayne’s for the night,” you tell him, stepping back slightly and briefly lacing your fingers with his before grabbing something from the back pocket of the jeans you immediately changed into after work. “This little line means that I’m currently ovulating,” you quickly explain, not wanting him to confuse it with another important test. 

Eddie’s grin could split his cheeks in half. “So…so that means…” his eyes shine bright with anticipation. “It’s baby-making time?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Yes, Eddie,” you confirm through peals of laughter. “It’s baby-making time.”

Eddie’s lips crash onto yours in an instant. He groans into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing your ass to pull you closer. Your own fingers grasp his jacket by the zipper teeth, tugging it off of his body and letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously. His hands snake underneath your sweater, eyes widening when he touches supple skin rather than the underwire of a bra.

“Mhm,” you bite your lower lip and nod, gasps of pleasure caught in your throat as his thumbs brush against your nipples, giving them a small tweak. He grins at your reaction, more than satisfied to be catching you off-guard. 

“Y’know,” he muses, not straying from your breasts, “I won’t be able to be so rough with ‘em once I knock you up. They’ll be extra sensitive, and I gotta take care of my girl.” The sweater is a hindrance, burying the treasure he so desperately desires, so you shed it without a second thought.

He stares at your bare torso for a moment, enthralled with your body even after all this time. Like a vampire lusting for blood, his teeth sink just below your areola, nipping and sucking sloppily until the underside of your breast is dripping with his saliva. “C’mere,” he growls, taking a breath and leading you into the bedroom.

You’ve never seen Eddie this hungry for you; his lips and tongue and hands trailing along your curves and leaving goosebumps in their path. It’s as though he can’t decide where to touch you and with what.

All articles of clothing–both yours and his–are long gone by the time your bodies tangle in the bedsheets. The only word you can manage is his name, so you whisper it over and over again. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

His body towers over yours, middle finger gliding up and down your folds, gathering your slick and rubbing deliberate circles on your clit. Your trembling legs fuel his own passion, his erection flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. 

“You need me inside you, Sweetheart?” Eddie coos, letting his finger drift down towards your wanting hole. When you nod pathetically, unable to string together a sentence, he laughs. “I’d normally make you beg, but seeing as you’re gonna be carrying my baby, I’ll let it slide.” He lays down, hissing at the glorious pressure against his cock. “In fact, I’m gonna make sure my girl gets everything she needs tonight.”

Soft lips wrap around your swollen bud while his middle and ring fingers stretch you deliciously. You buck your hips, using his face to draw you towards what you suspect will be your first of multiple orgasms. 

The only sound lewder than your wanton moans is the schlick of his fingers pulsing in and out, soaked with your arousal. You let yourself float away, relishing in the comfort of his control. 

“F-Fuck, Eddie…” you sputter, arching your back and hooking your grasp into his curls. He smiles against your pussy as you clench around his fingers. 

“Thassit, honey.” He breaks his rhythm for a split second to encourage you, resuming his pace like he’d never stopped. Maybe it stems from his musical prowess, or maybe he simply knows your body that well. You love this man, and you swear you’ll do anything to give him a baby.

You come undone moments later, taking everything you need without hesitation. Eddie lowers you from the high and kisses down your thighs, your arousal smeared on his pursed lips.

“Need you to do me a favor,” he says, shifting his body so his eyes gaze directly into yours, pupils blown out with lust. “Need you to bend your legs and hold onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them tight. Eddie’s breath hitches, taking in the view of you, glistening and on display just for him.

“Fuckin’...perfect…” he groans, running his hardened length along you, slowly pushing in. “Gettin’ to watch your pretty pussy cream my cock…shit…’s my favorite fuckin’ sight, I swear.” He grips your hips so tightly that it pinches a bit, pain indistinguishable from pleasure.

He’s entranced in a way you haven’t seen before, despite the multitude of times he’s already had you in this position. Your eyes fill with emotion when the realization hits: you and Eddie could make a baby right now. A little being that’s half-him and half-you. 

“‘S everything okay?” he asks, one hand moving from your waist to gently brush away a rogue tear slipping down your cheek.

“Mhm,” you answer, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m just really happy that this is for real. No more pretending; we’re actually doing this to expand our family.”

Eddie swoops down to kiss you, a few soft pecks punctuated with a long, intimate embrace. “I love you so much.” He says it as a promise, not a simple statement. “You’re mine and I’m yours, and I never want you to forget that.” He resumes thrusting, pulling almost all the way out and leaving just the tip inside you, before sinking back in. The movement draws a whine from deep within you, and he wears it as a badge of honor. “That’s my girl, my sweet girl, gonna have my baby.”

Sweat trickles down the bridge of his nose and drips onto your chest between your breasts. He bites his lip in determination. “Shit, ‘m close already,” he mumbles, smiling as he adds, “kinda wish I didn’t have to cum so we could stay like this, but, uh, that would defeat the purpose, huh?”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you giggle, which only further spurs him on. “You get tighter when you laugh, fuck, babe.” But he’s laughing with you, stopping for a second to get his bearings. “I gotta stay focused! Trying to make a baby over here!” His palms flex on your knees before gripping them again.

“I’m sorry!” You’re not, and neither is he, the two of you soaking in the comfort of being with the person you trust completely and love wholeheartedly. 

“Okay, okay,” he says, wiping perspiration from his brows with the back of his hand. “Let’s get back on track.” His thrusts resume slowly as he once again grows harder within your walls, gradually quickening in pace. 

Everything is overwhelming; the way he feels inside you, the sweetly possessive hold he has on his legs, the unexpected comedic interlude, the potential to create a new life. Passion sweeps you up into its embrace and you come with a strained cry of your husband’s name. 

“Want your baby, Eddie. Please.”

Eddie’s brown eyes shine at your desperate plea. He nears his own climax, hair sticking to his forehead and his guitar pick necklace thumping against his chest. “‘M right there, Sweetheart; you’re milking my cock so good.” His biceps tremble as he gives a final few pistons of his hips, spilling into you harder than he ever has before. “Fuck, gonna give you a baby, take it.” 

You shiver when he growls the last two words, savoring the movements until they abruptly stop. With panting breaths, Eddie slides out of you. 

“Don’t move,” he gently commands, holding up one finger and using the other hand to hold his softening dick. He scrambles for a free pillow and tucks it underneath your hips. “Helps ‘em swim faster,” he sheepishly explains. “Or, like, hit their target a little better.”

“Hit their target?” You ask through a bemused grin. “Is that the proper medical terminology?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, returning to the bed and nuzzling into you. His frizzy curls tickle your chin when he rests his head on top of one breast. You both lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. 

“Can’t wait to see if it worked,” he muses while fighting a yawn. “Whatever happens, it felt special, y’know?”

You know. Your hand flutters over your abdomen; Eddie drapes his over yours soon after. The two of you fall asleep wrapped up in one another and an intoxicating blanket of hope. 

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui #smut

[gretavanlace]

Hush

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only Minors do not interact

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dirty talk, choking, light degradation, praise, slight dom/sub/switch dynamic, language, etc

Josh is vocal.

That is certainly no secret.

Anyone who has watched him strut about a stage, microphone in hand, knows that.

Off stage, he talks incessantly about both the things that matter to him, and the mundane. Things he is passionate about. Things that light fires within him and drive him to create and pack this world as full of his heart as he possibly can. Arbitrary ideas and notions. Strange ponderings.

Pontification, he likes to call it.

He’s also vocally boisterous when agitated. He loathes waiting, and will mutter complaints near your ear in line until you’re willing your eyes not to roll. A phone call to vent about the antics of one brother or another from the studio is a regular occurrence and can be counted on just like death and taxes.

“Samuel was even later than I was,” he might huff, “and now Jake’s guitar needs to be restrung because fuck this whole world if he has to use a backup. I hate them, and I want to come home to you, light of my life, keeper of the stars, goddess of all that is— oh, we’re ready…gotta go.”

Josh murmurs in his sleep, sings in the shower, talks himself through menial tasks, hums in the grocery store, carries on one-sided conversations with the cat who simply chirps along while swirling around his ankles.

At least twice a night he snatches you from drifting off to sleep with a question: Do you think I should call my mom more? If I miss her, she must miss me. Or, Did I ever tell you about that time that Jake ate shit and fell in the lake? I was thinking about it today, and…

Random thoughts and idle musings he can’t help but verbalize, you hear them all. Mostly. The ones you aren’t privy to, fall upon the nearest ear - but he’s so fucking charming even a stranger is happy to play sounding board.

Josh is also expressive when you’re wrapped up in soft, linen sheets…or wherever else he’s decided he can no longer wait to have you.

Whispers of devotion swelling like a gentle breeze across the hum of your pulse when he makes love to you. Filthy, dirty, blush-inducing declarations when he’s fucking into your trembling body like he’ll never touch it again.

And you love it…all of it. But now - with your visiting sister slumbering in the guest room on the other side of the wall - is certainly not the time.

“Baby, please…” his mouth is sucking gently along your collarbone as he grinds into you slowly, friction hard and constant against your greedy, swollen clit, “let me fuck you faster…c’mon, I need it.”

”What you need, is to be quiet,” your voice is a stern whisper, but your hands are tender in his hair.

He could easily set a pace as brutal as he desired if he felt inclined to disobey…but, ever the sweetest switch, he has opted to play nice tonight.

”I’ll be quiet,” he promises. It is a lie he truly believes, and to prove that point, you clench around him and draw forth a pitiful groan from deep within his chest.

A swift pinch at his side serves as punishment ”Shut. Up.”

”Fuck you,” he sounds deliciously desperate, “You did that on purpose. Squeezing me with that beautiful pussy…goddamn.”

”What’s going to happen if I let you make me cum? Hmm?” Your mouth falls into a delicate pout as if you just feel so sorry for him, “You know how tight I get. How I just hug your cock all snug and wet…”

”And warm,” he adds, lost in it, daydreaming in the dark of night and twitching inside the embrace of your cunt, “Soft as satin, sucking me right in…oh my god, baby, please.”

He begins moving with more purpose, dragging the head of his cock against that lovely little spot that will render you incoherent if you allow it to.

”Oh my god, please,” you mock quietly, “Look at you Joshua, what a whiny baby. What are you begging for? Pussy? Is that what you need?”

He nods frantically against your sternum, as though he doesn’t trust himself to look up at you.

You feign confusion wickedly “But you’ve got that. You’re already inside me…”

“Faster,” he breathes, biting and mouthing at your shoulder now, “Need it faster, and harder. It’s too slow, I need more.”

Clicking your tongue like he is a poor, pathetic sight to behold, you shake your head, “Slow down.”

”No, please don’t make me,” he slows, as instructed, but trails off with a whimper.

So, maybe there’s no ‘like’ about it, maybe he really is a poor, pathetic sight to behold. Yes, you decide, that’s exactly what he is…

…so why not push him even further?

With a swift tug on the roots of his curls, you issue an order ”Stay still.”

Despondent and mournful, he groans into the crook of your neck and grabs at your hips so tightly you’ll be admiring raspberry bruises in the mirror come morning. “C’mon, baby girl…lemme take it. I fucking want it.”

If he were looking at you, he’d see the devilish gleam in your eye. Aren’t you an awful witch tonight? “What? Don’t you like it when I keep your pretty cock warm for you?”

He flexes hard inside of you, simply to gain even a hint of friction. “You’re being so fucking mean.”

”Mean?” You coil around the throbbing length of him and he shudders out the tiniest sound, “If I was mean, I’d lock your pretty cock in a cage and fuck your face all night.”

For a moment, he shirks his submissive edge and hisses in your ear, low and slow, “Liar. Not with little sister in the next room…you couldn’t keep quiet with my face between your legs if someone fucking paid you to.”

In response, you shove him back and roll until your thighs are locked around his waist, the crown of his cock nestled against your clit as your hips swivel heated circles.

”Does that feel good, baby?” You’re taunting him cruelly while, in contrast, lovingly reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. “Does that just feel so good?”

”Wanna put it back inside,” his eyes squint shut and anyone who didn’t know better might think his expression is that of suffering. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, so…”

”Shh,” you quiet him with a hand wrapped around his throat, relishing the way his adam’s apple slides against your palm when he swallows hard, “shut your mouth for once.”

He’s staring up at you, wide-eyed and needy, like you painted the stars in the sky, gorgeous and glittering, just for him…and how you wish that were true. How you wish you could give him something so profound. Something worthy of his light.

”I won’t make a sound,” his vow sounds out, a cross between the honesty he wishes it to be rooted in, and the lie he knows it to be. “C’mon baby, please…fuck me sweet.”

Does he really want it sweet? Or is he simply aware that that’s all he is capable of quietly handling?

Likely the latter.

Your fingers have found your nipples, twisting and tugging on them as they tighten into pink pebbles that send shivers crawling down into your stomach with every pull. His eyes lock in on you, watching you tease them as his breathing kicks up into a frenzy.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, grip pulling you down closer as he rocks his hips up to meet you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna fucking take it. Be a good girl now, baby…I’m done with your shit.”

”Yeah?” Your eyebrow raises in silent challenge. Does he have it in him tonight?

“Yeah.” He nods, licking his thumb to swirl much too gently across your clit.

”I think you should just behave and be grateful for what you’re—“

Stunned and dazed, the room blurs around you as you’re flipped and tossed until your cheek is pressed against the cool, crisp sheets. They smell of him, and you breathe Josh in until your lungs ache while his cock teases at your entrance from behind.

His body folds over yours until his lips sweep the shell of your ear, “You’ve done it now, baby girl. Better be quiet, yeah? Not a sound.”

With a swift snap of his hips, the silken glide of his cock fills you full as his palm presses against your lips to muffle the high-pitched moan that gasps out of you.

”Now who’s the whiny baby?” his perfect teeth sink into your earlobe and tug until it blooms with heat. The moan that seeps into his soft skin causes his lips to curl into a smirk you can feel. “This is what you wanted, you think I don’t know that?”

He has begun moving at an excruciatingly slow place, the head of his cock dragging gently inside you just right…but you need more.

”You think I didn’t know that you wanted me to just fucking take it all along?”

You nod urgently, tangling your hair against the pillowcase. Of course he knew, he knows you better than you know yourself. There are no secrets to be hidden away when it comes to Joshua. He hunts each and every one down like glittering treasure with ease…your body his map, the pools of your eyes ciphers he decodes without even trying.

His tongue is dancing its way along your jaw now, springing chills to life upon your flushed skin ”Tell me how good my cock feels and I’ll fuck you full.”

Another woeful sound shakes out of you and a rumbling, gravelly laugh huffs warm against your cheek, “My poor, sweet baby can dish it just fine tonight, but she can’t take it? Is that it?”

With a shhh that makes you feel weighed down heavy with lust, he lifts his palm away from your mouth. “I can take it,” you promise in a hush, “Please…I can take it, I swear.”

He is so still inside you, but the familiar stretch is enough to send a tremble tripping up your spine, spider-cracking like a jolt of electric pleasure. “But can you take it quietly? Can you be a real good girl or should I gag you like a whore?”

”I’ll be a good girl,” you breathe, relishing the sound that slips out of him, a cross between famished desire and worshipful devotion.

“Yeah?” He’s enjoying this little game too much to wave goodbye to it just yet, “You’ll be a good girl if I give you this cock?” He presses in so deeply there’s nothing left for him to give, “You’ll take it quietly and squeeze it nice and tight? Soak it with your little wet cunt when I make you cum?”

He can feel you clenching already, twisting around him like a fist, milking him, pulling him in, starved for more.

”Yes, yes, yes,” you chant softly, begging for him to get on with it, “Just fuck me, Josh…please,”

There’s that sinful mouth of his again, ghosting over your ear, “Just fuck me Josh,” he mocks in a velvet whisper, “Please.”

A sob escapes you and turns the apples of your cheeks pink…he echoes the sound back to you and fans the flames of your delectable shame.

”Quiet now, baby…” he reminds you, tone taunting and laced with self-satisfaction, “You just bite down on the pillow if it gets to be too much, and I’ll bite down on you.”

You tighten around him at the mere thought of it and tug an achingly gorgeous grunt from deep within his chest, “You like that? You want me to bite you to keep quiet? Mark you up all pretty?”

”Fuck…” you reach back and grab for him, fingers sinking into the curve of his waist, begging for it with your entire body.

You can’t seem to manage much more, but it’s enough for him, and with a swift pull back, he snaps his hips hard and fast and sets a relentlessly feral pace in motion.

The head of his cock, thick and suede-soft, kisses your cervix with each inward push, driving a wild sound out of you that you smother into the pillow, tongue dragging against the worn cotton as though it were his mouth.

His teeth are peppering your back and shoulders, gnashing his own moans way down deep into your flesh where you will secret them away forever. He gifts each sound to you on a gorgeous, stinging platter and you only want more, more, more. It is never enough with him…you are gluttonous for whatever he sees fit to offer.

”You feel so fucking good, baby,” it comes undulating across your cheekbone like a warm, languorous breeze, “So fucking wet, I can feel you all over me. You’re gonna make me cum.”

He grows impossibly hard within you and that, along with the filth he is sighing into the night and the drags of his teeth, sends you careening over the edge you had no idea you were so close to. You explode around him, and his weight grows heavier atop you as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“That’s it,” his praise is clipped and winded, “just - fuck - just like that. Keep going, so tight, messy pretty fucking pussy, make me cum, baby, please…make me fucking cum.”

He’s babbling like a brook you want to lie beside and listen to for the rest of your life. So beautiful. So Josh. But so quietly, and you know how difficult it must be for him, how hard he must be trying, and you love him all the more for it.

With a final, vicious bite, he coaxes a hiss out of you that makes him see stars as he lets go, fucking himself deeper and deeper as he rides it out, moans pressed into your glazed, shivering body like flowers in between the pages of a book.

And still, you only want more. You want his jaw to lock, his teeth to break the skin, to draw blood, to scar you…soft pink, raised marks tattooed by his kiss to remind you.

A long sigh flutters your hair, and your eyes drift closed at the soothing lilt of the sound as his fingers begin to card through your hair.

”You thirsty, baby?” His nose nuzzles at you, drawing forth a lazy smile that is half smashed into the pillow.

“Yes, but stay a little longer.”

He cuddles down into you, cheek to cheek, the weight of his body keeping you warm and safe in the silence.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @profitofthedune @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @jakesgrapejuice @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiskza smut #gvf josh #josh kiszka fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut

[dosie-dosie]

THINGS TO DO WITH YOUR OCS

If you’re like me and you like to play around with your OCs a lot, here’s some things you can do with them!

ART & CRAFTS

Put your OCs in character scenario memes! Here’s some I found on Deviantart.

Do an art trade where you draw someone’s OC and they draw yours!

Use those "Draw The Squad" templates and draw your OCs.

Crochet/knit/sew/etc. a plushie of your OC.

You can also make a paper doll! You can find tons of tutorials on youtube.

You can also make a figure of them out of something like clay, cardboard, or another material.

You can build them out of Legos!

You can also create a hand or finger puppet of them.

Draw a comic featuring your characters!

Create an animation of your character.

Draw your characters as animals!

Create pixel art of your OC! Maybe even make it look like video game sprites.

Draw your characters as playing card designs.

Draw your characters as tarot card designs (Suggested by @ultragirl-parsley)

Create a coloring book full of your OCs!

Create a large cardboard cutout of your character. There are tons of tutorials online!

Put your OCs as designs on cookies, cakes, etc. (I kinda want to do this one but I know it won't turn out well for me 'cuz I suck at handling food T_T)

Design your OC's home.

Make a board game about your OCs and their story

Make Minecraft skins of your characters

INTERNET

Make your OCs in picrew or other dress-up things!

Create a character playlist on Spotify or other music site!

Create a Pinterest board with inspo for your OCs! Maybe outfits they’d wear, a moodboard, etc.

Reblog those “tag your OC as” blogs! They usually have a prompt and you can reblog it and tag which OC it describes. Here’s a few blogs which do this: Tag Your OC on Tumblr develop your oc on Tumblr Daily Asks for your OC (tumblr.com)

Take quizzes as your OC! You can find some on Quotev or IDRLabs.

Make a roleplay account as your OC.

Create a quiz on Quotev about your OC. Maybe something like, "Would my OC like you," "How similar are you to my OC," etc.

Put your OCs in the incorrect quote generator.

Find OC questionnaires and templates online.

Create a page on your Tumblr just for your OC! You can include things like a character sheet, general facts, your posts about them, etc.

WRITING

Do character exercises for them! You can find a lot of these on the internet, but here’s an example.

Write from your OC's perspective. It'll help you understand them better!

Create a list of media they enjoy. Maybe movies, video games, songs, etc.

Write a song (or just lyrics) about your OC or parts of their story.

Write a random story about their childhood!

Create an in-universe news report from your OC's world.

Write a poem about your OC.

OTHER

Put your OCs in character alignment memes! Here’s some from a search on Pinterest.

Create voice headcanons for your OCs. Here’s an example of Vivziepop’s for Hazbin Hotel..

Play as your character in video games! Like, maybe design your character in Miitopia or Sims.

Do some theatre improv games as if you were your OC.

Edit your OC on to pride flags.

Also, you could maybe make those like, Tiktok edits of your OC? (Y'know the ones I'm talking about?)

Create an AU version of your characters! (I’ll create a list of AU ideas soon! :D)

Have your characters solve the trolley problem and other moral conudruums.

Cosplay as your OC!

Create ship names for your characters!

You can also find baby names that your OC might like or something.

Create a visual novel/dating sim in Google Slides (or if you can code, you can do it like that!)

Create a crossword/word search relating to your characters and story.

Answer "Would you rather?"questions as your character.

Find poems that remind you of your OC.

Make family trees.

If anyone has anymore ideas, please tell me and I’ll add them to the list!!

#oc #original character #list #oc creator #oc artist #original character artist #original character creator #oc challenge #ocs #masterlist #things to do #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr

[slasher-male-wife]

Yandere Lestat and Louis x GN reader headcanons

This is my first time writing for Louis and Lestat so I'm sorry if this is kind of out of character for them. Also I'm basing this off of the 1994 movie portrayal of the characters.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, cheating on reader (not my Lestat or Louis), murder, forced blood drinking mentioned, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationships, slight au

Lestat had befriended a local artist in France where they're currently staying. Lestat had heard about this artist's muse and brought Louis along to meet them. When both men followed the artist into the studio there, waiting on a chaise lounge was you. Your outfit was most likely some kind of sleepwear that’s trending. Your hair, your body, your smile, all of it drew both men in. They could tell why this artist has dedicated you as his muse. 

When they saw you they knew they had to have you. Louis was hesitant to really admit to wanting you to be all theirs, but Lestat had no problem talking openly to Louis about how much he desired you. 

Soon both men began to shower you with affection away from your boyfriend. Lestat was all about taking you out on the town and buying you gifts, being very physical. While Louis was content to talk with you privately about whatever came across your minds. 

They spent whatever time they could looking at the art your boyfriend made of you. Lestat went as far as to offer to buy some paintings of you. But sadly they weren’t for sale, so he opted to steal drawings of you. 

After establishing a relationship with you, that's when they began to try and separate you from your boyfriend. Lestat would plant the ideas in your head and Louis would be there to comfort you through it all. “I’ve seen him around town, looking at other people the way he looks at you.” Lestat would say. “You deserve so much better than him Y/N. I promise you that.” Louis would add. 

Louis would be hesitant to keep going with this plan, feeling like he’s building a relationship with you on nothing but lies. But Lestat would be there to tell Louis that this is what’s best for you, that they would be the best people to take care of you. So Louis would feel less guilty over time about this. 

They’d also start to get your boyfriend to see other people, encouraging him to cheat on you just so their plan could be set into motion. Louis would take a little convincing to actually get in fully on this plan but Lestat would get him on board in the end. 

They’d set it up so you’d catch your boyfriend cheating on you during the night. You’d run over to Louis and Lestat’s house and there they would be to comfort you about what you just saw. After you fall asleep they’ll go to your ex-boyfriend's house and kill him and the person he was cheating on you with, draining them of all their blood. 

They’ll then have to explain to you what they are. Louis would break it to you gently and promise you that they’d never do anything to hurt you. Lestat would offer to turn you too and give you a couple days to think it over. 

They’d set up a letter to give you from your “Partner” that says he fled to another country with his new partner. This will hopefully send you over the edge and get you to let them turn you into a vampire. If it doesn’t they’ll manipulate you into it anyway. 

Once you’re turned they’ll start to spoil you even more for letting them turn you, trying to prove to you that you made the perfect decision by letting them turn you. 

Lestat will want you to drink from humans immediately while Louis will understand if you’re hesitant. But both of them won’t let you drink from animals. So if you’re not drinking from humans they’ll force feed you blood. 

If you ever think about leaving they’ll manipulate you into staying. What other vampire would want you? Can you really trust someone else after your last boyfriend? It’s best to stay with them, they were the ones who turned you after all. 

Louis is a softer yandere. He’ll be more comforting and won’t be as explicit with his manipulation tactics and possessiveness. Lestat is far more open with his yandere behavior. He’ll outright manipulate you and yell at you if you talk about leaving. Louis will comfort you after and Lestat will eventually apologize just so you don’t hate him. 

You’re not going to leave them, that’s not an option. You’re stuck with them forever. If you try to leave they’ll track you down and they’ll lock you in their house if that’s necessary. 

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #lestat x reader #louis de pointe du lac x you #interview with the vampire x reader

[omgwhatchloe]

some lil headcanons because im bored🐺

-if arthur or someone else brings back bad meat, sean gets toothache while eating the stew. he doesnt make it obvious on purpose, but the way his eyes brim with frustrated tears as he holds his cheek and throws his stew to the side makes it quite hard to hide.

-lenny has absolutely no awareness for other people when it comes to stretching. more than once he has stretched and accidentally half-punched someone in the face. he stretched his arms out near sean and the silly irishman thought he was putting his arm around him and fully leant in. lenny did not correct him.

-dutch is the only one in camp who likes those records. for everyone else theyre an absolute mood ruiner and they cannot be happy until theyre turned off. he, similarly, absolutely cannot stand sean’s jawharp.

-sean lost his front tooth as a kid, completely his fault. he got told multiple times to calm down by his da and stop running around, but sean being sean he didnt, ran straight headfirst into their table and knocked his tooth out. scream-cried, would not calm down, was yelled at but also held.

-if mary-beth doesnt like the ending of a book, she will just write her own ending. maybe add her own characters. she is yet to realise this is, in fact, fanfiction.

-molly comes up with the most stupid insults during a fight. once called dutch a soggy milk bottle. why? she doesnt know. no one knows.

-1907 jack could talk mega shit about anyone if someone let him.

-1899 jack loves insects. he loves to bring worms for bait for pearson, or snails to stick on john. sometimes he brings arthur butterflies to draw. he brought dutch, who was in a tent, a slug once and was confused on why he freaked out and demanded he “get it off the rug right now”

-hosea snores like crazy. makes bill and lenny (who have their bedrolls next to him) want to tear their own eardrums out. while the other members hate it, it doesnt stop them sitting upright immediately and panicking slightly when they hear him pause for too long

-lenny would love board games, but, inspired by another post i saw, would get extremely bossy and frustrated when people wouldn’t play right. takes it extremely seriously and is a sore loser to add onto it. cannot stand people who dont play right. playing half-heartedly? fuck off. your out. go away. go. quit halfway through due to the fact hes made it boring? get the hell out of his sight. he will NEVER forget this. cheating? fetch the guillotine. your beheaded.

-tilly is so blunt in showing shes not interested when someone flirts with her, and she knows it. she will literally stare them dead in the eyes and go “ew”, maybe with a facial expression to match.

-kieran used to have a lisp.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sean macguire #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan #sean rdr2 #lenny summers #red dead fandom #macsummers #headcanons #mary beth gaskill #tilly jackson #kieran duffy #dutch van der linde #molly o’shea #jack marston

[uva124]

So yeah, I finished the drawing of Asha's redesign from Wish :D, maybe I'll make some changes in the future, but I'm happy to have finished it, it should be noted that I haven't seen the movie. , so I can't give my opinion on it yet, but I found it very interesting that their fandom is mainly made up of people who rewrote or made their own version of the movie, they are all very creative and it got me out of an artistic block. that I had a few months ago, but above all I found the rewriting of @annymation which is the one I have been most hooked on, so I wanted to do some redesigns of the characters coming out of its rewriting, that's why everything that has to do with the story of this version of Asha, as well as her personality and her world on which I base my drawing are the ideas and work of this account: @annymation

I'm just making a drawing of her character and how I would design her as well as sharing part of the process I had to do to draw her because, why not?

BOARD:

The first thing I had to do was put together a table full of references that reminded me of the character and things that I would like to add to her design, so I used milanote to do it:

-Looked for some Asha's concept art and save the ones I liked the most, and add the main colors that I used in the design. -I also created notes to write down the personality of the character and some of his data to have a better guide, I did a little research and found publications that talked a lot about Asha's discarded designs and how Disney workers had put that she had tribe ancestry Amazigh on his mother's side and since his father was from the Iberian Peninsula, that's why the next thing I wanted to do is research more about their culture. -I am not an expert on this topic, nor do I belong to the cultures from which Asha has ancestry, so you can comment on any correction regarding this topic, I wanted to implement details of this culture to her design and I would really like to give a correct representation :)

HAIRSTYLE

Continuing with the theme, I saw that the hairstyles in the Amazigh culture mostly had this type of colorful decorations on their braids and dreadlocks, that's why I also posted these reference photos for Asha's hairstyle.

-Finally I decided that Asha would not have all her hair full of braids or dreadlocks, but only a few accompanied by these decorations with a great variation of colors, although it was fun to sketch the many hairstyle options that I had in mind based on these concept art and other photos that I had saved

TATTOOS:

-Another detail that I liked was giving Asha some tattoos with designs from the Amazigh culture, because I saw that it was quite common for women to get them, the tattoo on her forehead is a symbol of protection against bad influences, that's why the The middle symbol is responsible for deflecting it in the 4 directions, I also added a similar one in Asha's right hand.

ASTROLOGY AND THE SPACE:

-An important part of Asha's rewrite is her knowledge of astronomy inherited from her father, especially with the stars for obvious reasons xd, so in addition to adding constellations to her dresses, research the meaning (or something like that) of the planets. Only 3 really reminded me of the character, which were: -Mars: Symbolization of the internal conquering function of moving forward, independent, self-determined, enduring failures with new energy, courage and energy to fight for your desires. -Saturn: Maturity, effort to solidly build realistic criteria, frustrations are transformed into objectives to continue growing, critical and realistic, far from getting frustrated when an objective does not work, you strive to move forward and obtain even more resistant and solid achievements, perseverance , and tenacity (I feel like yhis it the most similar to Asha :D) -Moon: protective role, feeling very vulnerable outside your known areas, feeling of security with your ties, importance of family ties. The one that reminded me the most of Asha was Saturn, that's why I drew those Saturn-shaped earrings :).

SUITS:

I looked for references and placed some on milanote, I noticed that the concept art was mainly divided into whether the dresses have lilac colors or warm colors, I decided to draw 2 models based on the discarded designs, although at first I thought of using only one color palette lilac and bluish, I realized that the reddish colors of her dress reminded me of Mars which has certain meanings that in my opinion coincide with Asha's personality. In the end I didn't decide what wardrobe she would primarily have 😅, but I like to think that in this version of Wish, Asha would have wardrobe and hairstyle changes like in some older Disney movies.

-These are some of the concepts that I mainly used for my version of the dresses

FINAL COMMENTS:

I am satisfied with the result, it was fun to make all this, although what I researched mostly seems little, it actually cost me several hours and I did it at night, so as a funny fact the next day I was explaining all this information to my mother and I felt like I looked like that:

(Make this drawing was so funny LMAO)

(Apologies if there are errors in my writing, English is not my first language and my writing is very basic)

#wish asha #wish movie #wish 2023 #disney wish #wishrewrite #wish rewrite #redesign #asha #sketch #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #artwork #my art #illustration #drawing #design #disney #my draws #digital painting #digital drawing #digital illustration #artist #wish disney #wish #queen amaya #wish star #magnifico wish #magnifico x amaya #king magnifico

[formulauno98]

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? She always wrote those little notes on post-its and leaving them at his office whenever she was there, so that he will get a little endorphin boost when stress/working. I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks :))

Thank you for your message, I love this prompt, it got me inspired to write again! So without further ado, here is Post-Its, a short and fluffy fic, just for you.

Post-Its

Word Count: 800

Warnings: Pure, unadulterated fluff

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction.

“Remember not to throw your headphones today.”

Toto smiled at the looped handwriting on the pink Post-it note he’d found hidden between his iPad and the keyboard. His angry outbursts were at this point somewhat expected but after a particularly tough season, he’d struggled to keep a lid on it and had been smashing his headphones virtually every race weekend. After a frank conversation with the Mercedes-Benz board, he knew he had to reign it in.

That’s where you had come in, leaving Post-it notes to remind him throughout the race weekend not to make a complete fool of himself. In a nice way, of course. Your husband was a passionate man and you knew that he only acted this way from a place of caring too much. Not the biggest fault in the world.

As Toto settled down for the morning to reply to a few emails before quali got underway, he grinned, carefully putting the Post-it in his cardholder, trying to keep the sentiment in mind for later and tomorrow’s race. He’d barely started typing his first reply when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” His deep voice boomed, hoping that whoever it was was not going to take up too much of his time. Spare time was precious during race weekends and he was seldom left alone as Team Principal.

Luckily it was just his assistant coming in with coffee and a small box.

“Good morning boss,” she said, setting his coffee and the box down in front of him.

“Morning,” he said wearily, curious what was in the box, “Thank you but what is this?”

She smiled, “You’ve had a special delivery.”

Toto sat upright, he didn’t normally get deliveries to the motorhome, “From who?”

His assistant grinned more, “A special lady. I’ll leave you to open it but let me know if you need anything.”

As she made her way out of the room, Toto picked up the box in his large hands, wondering what it could be. You had already slipped a Post-it note into his iPad case, so knowing you it was probably a gag gift set of indestructible headphones.

Carefully undoing it, he was pleasantly surprised to instead find a small stack of Post-its, concertinaed together. Inspecting the first one, there was the familiar looped handwriting.

“Good luck and don’t fuck it up.”

He smiled, rifling through a few more motivational quotes, a lewd drawing (of course you couldn’t resist) and one final message, scrawled in classic toddler handwriting.

“I love you, Daddy.” 

Toto melted at the delivery and knew that whatever happened this weekend he had you and your young son to come home to. Carefully gathering the Post-its up, he added them to his cardholder alongside the one he’d found earlier.

—

A few hours later, Toto was in the garage and things were not going well. The engineering team had gotten the set-up completely wrong and George was knocked out in Q1, Lewis barely scraping through into Q2. He tried to remember the positive messages from the morning and willed himself to keep his temper in check, his nostrils flaring dangerously as he looked around the garage.

Breathing deeply, he put his hand in the pocket of his Mercedes raincoat, knowing that he couldn’t throw anything from there. Strangely, he didn’t remember having anything in his pockets as he’d just had his uniform dry-cleaned so when he found a folded-up piece of paper, he pulled it out, curious.

It was of course another Post-it.

“Darth Toto returns duh duh duh. Don’t go to the dark side.”

He smiled, you were truly ridiculous, always calling him Darth Toto when he wore his long hooded raincoat. No one else ever dared to.

From his right shoulder came the curious voice of his reserve driver, Mick, “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the Post-it curiously. 

“Oh, just a silly thing from my wife.” Toto said, still slightly grinning, “She writes me these messages on Post-it notes sometimes.”

Mick looked surprised but didn’t question further and Toto felt much better about the situation.

—

It was race day and Toto was in a horrible mood. He had woken up early to pack as he had to leave immediately after the race and was throwing his shoes into his suitcase angrily and haphazardly, knowing that it was virtually pointless as he’d need to repack in a few days anyway.

As he gathered up his toiletries, a small yellow square fell out of his leather toiletry bag, floating to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he laughed, reading the message.

“Hey handsome, you look good today.”

Once again he shook his head in disbelief, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. His bad mood evaporated and he carefully put the Post-it note in his cardholder with the others he had collected over the weekend, knowing that whatever happened today he would keep his temper in check, knowing he was going to see you later that evening when he returned home.

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fanfic

[tavernbrawls]

50 Fun things to do with OCs and/or characters you love!

Making a cohesive list so I don't forget, and so that others can use the same resource. Enjoy :)!

Make them a Pinterest board

Make Picrews of them

Answer OC templates and questionnaires

Paste and/or draw them over memes

Draw the squad

Create an Amazon/Etsy wishlist for them of things they'd like

Make a list of video games/shows they'd like

Crossover with other OCs/universes

Modern AU

Swap AU

Masc/femify them

Create them in character creations in video games

Pick out funny clothing for them

Make them a Spotify playlist

Create a fake text conversation between them and another OC

Make their zodiac sun, moon, and rising or chart their natal chart

Turn your OCs into animals

Save TikTok/Instagram/Youtube audios that reflect them

Depict their reactions to looking at themselves in the mirror

Fantasy AU

Spiderverse AU

Draw them in cosplay

Classpect them

Make them a phone/desktop background and/or theme

Create a kinlist for your OC

Draw them interacting with you or your friends

Act them out

Cosplay them

Fuse them with another OC

List out what traits them and others have in common

Make random quotes from them

Pick out Pokemon they'd like

Turn them into a magical girl

Create a tierlist based on what they like/dislike

Have your OCs play truth or dare together

Have your OCs play Dungeons and Dragons together

Have your OCs spin the bottle

Create or look through Halloween costumes for your OCs

Design what your OC would wear throughout the decades

Age your OC through a timeline

Height chart

Put your OCs in a grocery store

Let others draw them in Whiteboard Fox (when you google it you'll see a list of servers below! Just click one! (and remember to ss your progress in case someone clears the board!))

Create sprites of your OCs

Objection.lol case them

If they have a comic or animation, create blooper takes

Avatar: The Last Airbender AU

Describe their reactions to smoking and/or drinking for the first time

Expose their internet search history

Draw them into taken photos with IRL you

If you have any more suggestions add them into the comments or reblogs below, and I'll make another 50+!

#OCs #original characters #oc ideas #oc templates #bored #picrew #pinterest #artists on tumblr #art #creation #oc #AU #alternate universe #i know this isnt the stuff i usually post but i know the struggles of finding stuff to do with characters #especially that don't require drawing #i might make a special list specifically for that #but i figured the ones that you can't draw you can always write or make pinterest boards for #regardless there is still plenty to do that don't require drawing or writing

[yorshie]

Heyy idk if you've already done it but can I request clothes that the bayverse boys just love seeing you in? Like besides lingerie (though who doesn't like a cute lingerie) I mean like more mundanish things. A certain pair of shorts/pants/skirt, a certain dress or top, a certain color of clothing. Something along those lines, yk?

Maybe it accentuates a certain part of your body, maybe he just thinks it looks cute. Idk. It doesn't necessarily turn him on (although... hehe) He just can't tear his eyes away/stop stealing glances the second he sees it, and you just know he's getting extra flustered if you catch him gawking 🤭

Hey Nonnie! Thank you for sending this in, I had a lot of fun imagining what each one of the turtles would like- I even asked some other writers what their thoughts were because it was such a fun ask!

The ask I sent to another writer - oops forgot to add this so the context makes sense lol

Donatello

DonBon gets flustered whenever he sees you in his color. He’s not partial to a particular way of dress in the grand scheme of things, as long as it’s some shade of purple, you’ve got his attention. But the thing that would really draw him to a complete stop, is glasses. Even if you donned a lens free pair, he’s going to stop and do a double glance, taken by the way the frames bring attention to your eyes. If you coupled the glasses with a purple shirt or an oversized hoodie, he’s going to go out of his way to get his hands on the material, though don’t be fooled, his real goal is studying you. 

Raph

Raphie’s weakness is anything feminine. If it's floofy and a more "girlie" color, he's all on board. While he does love seeing you in his color, the one time you managed to get him to walk head first into a door because he wasn’t paying attention was while wearing a pastel skirt with a petticoat underneath. He likes the way the fabric swishes when you walk, likes how he gets a peek at thighs and calves when you move. He’s an absolute sucker for embroidered patterns and soft fabrics that give him an excuse to study the way your clothes drape and fall on your figure.

Mikey

Angelo likes your comfy clothes. He loves matching PJ sets and lounge wear, the kind that lets him catch a glimpse of your stomach when you raise your hands up over your head, whose sleeves you have to either constantly push up or the tanks that leave your shoulders bare. He’s going to get possessive if it’s any shade of orange, but he’s not too picky. If it’s your favorite, it’s his favorite by proxy, and he revels in the fact that you’re feeling good enough to be comfortable around him. Bonus points if he gets to feel how soft and well worn the fabric is during cuddling.

Leo

Blue likes it when you dress up, likes silk and velvet and tactile fabric that clings to you, loves it when you wear dresses and blouses. If it’s his color, from the darkest navy to a light robin’s egg blue, he’s going to make it a point to inform you how beautiful you look, going to use the praise as cover to rest his hand low on your back. If you’ve dressed up especially for him, he’s not going to even try and hide the way he’s got his eyes on you. Splinter finds it amusing that even his voice can’t shake his eldest out of his thoughts when his attention is centered on you.

All Four

Alright, listen, this Is probably the part that’s a little more risqué than the rest of these, but those that know, will understand what I’m talking about. 

There’s a certain type of nightgown, modest in itself, that usually has a scoop collar and hits somewhere around the mid thigh length. It can be a lighter, warm weather fabric that floats around you, or a denser, winter weave that clings more to trap heat. Patterned, or solid color, it doesn’t matter, but everyone that has one of these knows exactly what I’m talking about. There is no faster way to make a man sit up and pay attention, then to wear it, and the turtles are no exception. It’s not sexy, at least not by today’s standards, but there’s just something about it that draws their eyes and will have them following after you.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse donatello #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #my writing requests

[melbatron5000]

My murder board

Updated 4/22/24

I'll add links as I can, but here's what I've got so far on the Good Omens season 2 puzzle/game. I feel it's important to note that I think we've been given all the puzzle pieces and a bunch of helpful hints besides.

The continuity errors:

Crowley's hair (POV thing)

Crowley's sideburns (POV)

The Bentley, "our car" but then it is Our Car in 1941 also -- WTF (There is a line in the book about someone being powerful enough to make something change and then make it so the change always was that way, but damned if I can recall the line or context now. Need to re-read AND re-watch! Found it! It's when Crowley first meets Adam after he's come into his powers -- he reads Crowley's mind and history like it's a book and this is the impression it leaves Crowley with. Adam's power is very similar to how the Book of Life is described in the show. Curiouser and curiouser!) (POV!)

Eccles cakes when Crowley leaves the shop, it's still morning, the continuity of time is messing with me. When they get the eccles cakes, it's light out. When Crowley leaves, it's dark out. He throws a lightning temper tantrum. He comes back after 9 by the clock in the shop. I still think it's not unreasonable to assume Aziraphale simply tidied away the eccles cakes in that time. Nina would have liked her plate back, after all. But all of this begs another question: 4a. Why is it around 11:30 when Aziraphale leaves Maggie's shop with the record and says he knows what he'll be doing for 21 minutes, but after 4 pm when Gabriel shows up? What happened for those 4+ hours? See 6. Clocks are wrong. Time is wrong!! (4.b the eccles cakes are prominent in at least one promo poster. Even if they don't disappear, do they mean something else??)

Portal rug it's a faded rug right up until the ball, when it becomes a thick red rug, then it's back to faded once the ball is tidied away. It just got made pretty for the ball, then changed back. The change is a nothingburger.

Clocks are wrong -- all over the damn place!!

Cross on Gabriel's statue -- appears to disappear. (POV)

Honolulu roast sign -- appears out of nowhere. (POV)

Title/location cards -- but there are some spots where the S1 title cards are used, what's going on there? (POV clues? -- this needs a closer look)

Drawing of Gabriel -- the one Aziraphale draws in the shop is NOT the one he shows the pub owner in Edinburgh. Why? (POV)

Wet roads/series poster -- what is up with all the rain??

Lights at Marguerites -- on again, off again. (POV? Or is it just when she's closed and open? It's a cafe, after all, they won't be open in the morning.)

Aziraphale's chair position in the Final Fifteen

1941 photo, Crowely's hand

Repeating extras -- not just repeating, but acting oddly -- walking back and forth, touching things, not eating, dressed the same every single day, etc. Do the people on the street in Edinburgh behave the same way?? (POV?)

Resurrectionist sign at the pub -- one with a scalpel, one with a butcher's knife. And it makes me think -- was Mr. Dalrymple a surgeon and a scientist with a scalpel, or a butcher with a cleaver? (POV. Wait, Aziraphale is the only MC there -- whose POVs would we be seeing?? Crowley's. He calls to tell Crowley what he found, what we're seeing is Crowley's idea of what happened.)

Store front signs -- appear and disappear. (POV)

Whickber street as seen from Heaven vs. on location -- the one Saraqael looks at in Heaven is the Google Maps picture of SoHo from 2019 with the book shop added in. It's not even from 2023! There is a building being torn down in it. In person on the show, it's different -- and the building is long gone in actual Google Maps 2023. (I think Saraqael is trying to hide the big miracle. She's showing the arc angels the book shop when it got reset by Adam in 2019.)

When Shax talks to Crowley and he takes off driving. When she appears, he is parked further up the street than when he leaves. Noticeably so. (POV? Or scenes out of order and this is a different time than it looks like?)

Edinburgh castle -- when Aziraphale arrives in Edinburgh, the castle is behind him. When the camera switches angles to behind him, Edinburgh castle is in front of him. The street he is on (streets, actually) are real streets. The castle was put in the first shot deliberately, but exists for real in the second shot. (POV)

Edinburgh streets -- when Aziraphale arrives in Edinburgh, the street he parks on is cobblestone. When the camera switches to behind him, the street is paved. (POV)

Weird sounds of all kinds?? (POV? Some of them yes.)

Crowley's sunglasses. Could this be explained by POV switches? If so, why do they change halfway through and then stay that way?

Questions about things the characters do:

Where did Crowley go during the Job flashback? And why was he wearing his spy turtleneck? (To meet up with Saraqael, perhaps? Seeing as Shax interrupted their meeting earlier that day?)

Where else did Aziraphale go in Edinburgh? And why did he go to the graveyard?

What did Gabriel need to bring to Aziraphale? What happened to it? (God's voice? A message from god? The Book of Life?)

Why does Micheal do the magician's "nothing in the box" display with the matchbox? It's a very specific action. Something's in that up with that damn matchbox. We're being asked to look at it, while something else happens that we're missing. And someone noticed that her nails are in terrible shape when she does it, but our eyes are on the matchbox.

What else did the Metatron say to Aziraphale? (Anything? Are we getting the whole, accurate story? Most of it? Any of it?)

How long was Crowley in Heaven, and what happened while he was there? (Did he sneak around and steal something? Did they harm him? He's acting a bit weird when he comes back.)

What happened to Aziraphale's briefcase? The one he took to Edinburgh. Where he did who knows what. (Is that a POV thing??)

What, if anything, is wrong with Crowley's memory? (Or is he just dissing Furfur and Saraqael?) (OR! Given the Gabriel removed HIS OWN MEMORY AND PUT IT IN THE FLY, so apparently angels ((AND demons??)) can affect their own memories, did Crowley deliberately do something to himself to get rid of unwanted memories??? He seems pretty untroubled by not remembering Furfur or Saraqael or why they made gravity -- almost as if he doesn't care the memories are gone. Okay, maybe he's gotten rid of some memories himself, but then WHY??) This could be a big old nothingburger. Or is he dissing Furfur and offering plausible deniability that he's met with Saraqael before -- like, when he was wearing his spy turtle neck??

What is Shax's mission? She says she's Crowley's replacement, but then she asks for "what she needs" from Crowley on the bench. Huh? What does she need?

How does Crowley know about hand washing in the Resurrectionists minisode? (This strikes different than the "lead ballon" remark on the wall. It's hard to say if Crowley knows about lead balloons, or if they're speaking an angelic language and it's being translated for us and the translator has a sense of humor or is trying to convey Crowley's sense of humor. The hand washing is actual, concrete, specific knowledge of the future.) Ah, I just re-read the book, where he mentions helicopters to DaVinci, and also Neil said this. It's something Crowley can do. He's a demon, he knows things.

What is going on with Maggie? I don't think she's a demon, but there is something up with her. (Also, one of the men in the graveyard in Edinburgh has a tattoo that says "no regerts." That's a real tattoo that circulates around the internet every once in a while -- I think it's a subtle reminder that humans aren't necessarily great at spelling, either.) But she has a Mason symbol on her necklace, and I still think the Masons are significant somehow; Aziraphale can't miracle-influence her; Aziraphale expects her to feel the arc angels arriving.

Why does Gabriel speak with god's voice? (Was that what he needed to bring? That message? But he says he needs to give Aziraphale something, and both times he speaks in god's voice, it's to Crowley. Hmm. IS that God's voice? It's a woman, but who is it?)

How did the pub owner recognize Gabriel's picture so fast? He says himself, "Look pal, I see a lot of people -- oh, yeah, I remember him!" ?? Was it just because Gabriel was weird at him?

Why is Crowley throwing books? It gives us a laugh, but is there a reason for it? He even seems confused as to why he's carrying them right before he does. (This is a POV thing -- the lens is "Aziraphale's" lens, so I think we're seeing Crowley tell Aziraphale what happened while Aziraphale was gone, and how Aziraphale imagines it would go.)

Why is Saraqael the only angel to react with fear before anyone else recognizes the Metatron? (Is it because she's been working WITH Gabriel, Beelzebub, AND Crowley and Aziraphale to thwart the second attempt at ending the world? Neil says he had some secret things for Sandalphon to do, but the actor wasn't available, so Saraqael does some of those things instead . . .)

Aziraphale gently laughs at Muriel's Inspector Constable persona, but then IMMEDIATELY adopts a just as over-the-top reporter persona. Is he doing it deliberately, or is he that un-self-aware? If he's doing it deliberately, why? Who's he trying to convince he's not that savvy? The pub owner? Anyone who might be spying? US?? Is that a POV thing? And if so, whose?? (AHA! I think this is Aziraphale telling Crowley what happened, and Crowley picturing Aziraphale being adorable in his disguise. Aziraphale is not that silly actually, but probably not as slick as he wants to think.)

Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about?

When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what? And that lens is still Crowley's lens -- Aziraphale is relating the story to Crowley. Crowley also knows where Aziraphale was going besides Edinburgh.

Crowley can tell something is wrong. Something. What?

Good God, this questions list just keeps getting longer. Why would the Metatron allow Beelzebub and Gabriel to leave, after trying to stop Armageddon 2.0, but come after Crowley and Aziraphale like that? Just because of the big miracle? (Which I'm not sure they did.)

Why does Crowley say "Oh, God," right before his confession in the final fifteen? To let Aziraphale know that he understands what Aziraphale is saying? That God (or the Voice) is there? Seems possible.

Why didn't Gabriel come down the lift in the Dirty Donkey? He also says he had to carry that box for sooo long. Where was he wandering around?

When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??

The whole time Aziraphale is in Maggie's shop asking about Every Day, he is looking out the windows and is VERY nervous. Is he just concerned about leaving Gabriel on his own, or is he nervous about something specific? He does react to the car horn outside as others have noted, but he is already jumpy and checking the windows repeatedly, the car horn isn't anything particular, he's just already fixated on the windows.

Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get the demons?

Questions about the world:

What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?

The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. Why? (Maybe to throw us off? I think we have multiple POV characters in season 2, not just Aziraphale, but we only hear Aziraphale so we assume he's the POV for the entire season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? Argh, is he reading the diary to himself in the present day? That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." If he is reading it in the present day, why? What made him think to go back to THAT entry?? Oh, duh! He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?)

Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but he could just be upset that their little break is interrupted, and now Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again.

Is reality fucked up? How? Whickber street bubble, Aziraphale's power turned up (how?), etc.? A LOT of it is POV shifts!

Job 41:19 on the matchbox: 1941?? YES. Bullet catch/kiss scene!

Where TF is God? "There was nothing for Her to do" my ass. She narrates. That's it. So there was nothing for her to narrate? Hm. (Because there was a host of other narrators? Are the Crowley/Aziraphale through the ages flashbacks in S1 narrated by God? I don't think they are, but I need to rewatch. They are not! And they aren't narrated by God because Crowely and Aziraphale are the POV characters in them.)

So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?

Wait. Two Crowleys?? WTF. There are two Crowley puppets in the magic shop, and Crowley doesn't remember Saraqael or Furfur. Is he dissing them, or is that the second Crowley that never did meet either of them? Am I insane? I have no theory here, just some wild speculation that needs a lot more time to simmer. Two actual Crowleys, or two ideas of Crowley? Or something to hurt my head?

Why are they in a cave in the opening sequence? The guy who made the opening sequence says they are in the fly that Gabriel stores his memory in. Okay, why? And Crowley lights a match to see. Hm. What else was in that fly that Gabriel didn't take when he got his memory out?

An album on the wall in Maggie's shop says "Rat Keith." This seems to me to be an allusion to The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett. In the book, some men have tied several rats' tails together to create a rat king that keeps the wild rats under control -- except that the rat king has too much power and is doing way more than just that. People die. So who's been given too much power and is now running the show instead of being a puppet? The Metatron, perhaps? Hm . . . Also, Keith is the young boy who plays the part of the Pied Piper for Maurice's scam. He leads all the rats out of town, never mind that the rats can talk and are in on the scam.

Things I think I know:

NEIL GAIMAN IS A LYING LIAR WHO LIES. Except when he's dropping hints or answering straight out. All of his answers to anything anyone asks about GO are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)

God has been removed/has vacated. Where did she go? I wonder if anyone knows. Is She just standing back and watching? In the book, Crowley says that anyone who can create a whole universe in six days doesn't let a war of rebellion happen unless they want it to. But that he and Aziraphale wouldn't understand, because if they understood, they wouldn't be them. It's INEFFABLE. He also then FORGETS what he was talking about a minute later.

God doesn't narrate because She's busy being Maggie. Aha!

The Metatron is working for himself. The dice on his tie seem to imply that while God does not play dice with the universe, this jerk surely does. Also, see the rat king observation above, #10.

Gabriel was bringing Aziraphale a message, the box is a red herring. But that brings me to another thing I suspect -- there was something else in the box, and the box is deeply important. Ah, damn -- is that what Crowley gave to Aziraphale in the kiss? Whatever was in the box? Was that what he found out while he was in Heaven? What Gabriel took? Did Gabriel put it in the fly with his memory?

Heaven did something bad to Crowley while he was there. That coffee is a red herring to draw our eye away from him. But that brings me to something else I suspect -- Crowley's knackered and a bit off when he returns from his TEN HOUR JAUNT in Heaven not because they did anything bad to him, but because he stole something very important. Maybe the thing he gives to Aziraphale during the break up?

Crowley and Aziraphale did NOT perform a huge miracle. I don't know what happened, but it wasn't them working together. (Or did they? Are angels and demons more powerful together? Did the Fall create a schism between them that weakened them all? Or are they and Saraqael hiding who did do the big miracle?)

This is a 2 man con. Of course it's a 2 man con. I read American Gods. Crowely and Aziraphale have a plan. This might be version B or C, they might be springing it sooner than they hoped, but that break up was a ruse. A hard, painful ruse, but a ruse. They knew their respite would be short-lived, they've been putting something together for years now.

Crowley put something in Aziraphale's mouth during the kiss. I don't know what, but something he had to swallow. obligateweirdo pointed out that he seems to palm something out of his mouth when he touches his lips the second time, and that Houdini's wife used to slip him the keys to his cuffs with a kiss before his shows. Whatever Crowley gave Aziraphale, it's physical. And Michael Sheen has said he doesn't want to share what's in Aziraphale's pockets -- because Aziraphale put whatever Crowley gave him into a pocket?? Was it the fly? (But didn't that go into Gabriel's eye and stay there?) And if it was the fly, what was inside it?

Gabriel went somewhere else before he went to the book shop. He didn't come down the elevator at the Dirty Donkey. Did he go to Edinburgh? Is that why the pub owner recognized that picture so fast? "Oi! That's that naked bloke was in here last week!" (Or was him walking down the street because we first see him from Nina or Maggie's perspective?? POV muckery?)

SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening??

Several narrators. I'm not even sure how many, but we're seeing the world through the eyes of characters, not God or a faceless narrator. This is part of why things are weird. I don't think that's the full explanation for the whole season, but I think it's a big part of the weirdness. A book that comes up often in the show is The Crow Road by Ian Banks. A brief description of the book says that it is written from the point of view of several characters and the story is told out of order and in no particular fashion, with changes from character to character POV coming at no particular interval and with no warning. AHA! (I did come up with the idea before I saw this post, but @highlandwhackamole beat me to writing it. Well done!) NOW I'm wondering if we aren't also seeing the story as told by the characters we see, but as heard but an as-yet unknown character . . .

The scenes are out of order. The DAMN SCENES ARE OUT OF ORDER! I don't know their correct order, but they are out of order. The Crow Road, again, is told out of order, forcing the reader to piece the scenes together (from a brief description, I'm thinking more and more I need to read this book rather than try to skim it). Is it as simple as watching the scenes in chronological order??

Our angel and demon have hidden something in the book shop. Something important. I have no current guesses as to what. Crowley still has his crank from starting up the nebula. What else might he have taken with him? Is that it? Or something else? HOLY SHIT ARE THEY HIDING JESUS??? Is THAT who did the miracle??

When Aziraphale tells Crowley that their Gabriel miracle set off alarms in Heaven, he sort of raises his eyebrows and says it in the same way he says other things he doesn't mean -- the same tone he says "I forgive you" after the Kiss, or how he says "He says he's Bildad the Shuite," in the Job minisode. It wasn't the Gabriel miracle that set off alarms in Heaven, it was whatever Saraqael was doing, or whoever Saraqael is hiding, and Crowley is well aware of it and whatever Saraqael is up to. Aziraphale just told Crowley that they have to take responsibility for whatever Saraqael did to allay Heaven's suspicions. They are talking in code through more of this season than we first think.

The rainbow lens flairs sure look like eyes. Like a pupil and iris. Is this a subtle hint that we are seeing through someone else's eyes?

When Crowley and Aziraphale argue about what to do with Jimbriel, behind Aziraphale is a privacy screen, and behind Crowley is an open door. Does this reflect how each of them feels, that Aziraphale believes they are speaking in private and Crowley believes they are being listened in on?

Repeating themes:

Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim.

Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time

Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness

Queer couples -- is literally everyone in season 2 in a non-cis-het relationship?? Even the guy in the graveyard says he uses his phone for Grindr -- a gay men's dating hook-up app. Nothing wrong with it, but it's an interesting writing choice. Why? Equality and representation -- or a Clue? (I think it's a POV Clue!)

Memories/forgetting/remembering

Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money.

Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming.

Unreliable narrators

Death in general -- but 9a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 9b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmmmm.

Morality and what is "good" and what is right

Recognition and identity

Repeating words and phrases OMG the list goes on:

Technically

Properly

Isn't it just?

Too late

Funny old world

Not as such

Made for each other

EVERYWHERE

Obviously

Hints:

Powell and Pressburg films

The Crow Road

Catch 22

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general

Jane Austin

Book Good Omens

The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.

That's what I have so far. I'll try to update with new ideas and information, as well as links to things that support my theories as I find them.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens fan theory #good omens puzzle game #crowley #ineffable husbands #good ineffable omens #good omens meta #good omens theory #aziraphale #i can't stop thinking about good omens #help i've fallen into a fan theory and i can't get out #ineffable mystery #good omens clues #good omens speculation #good omens season 2

[a-hermit-pining]

Sukuna as a House Husband

Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Sukuna x Reader AN: Might be OOC but humor me people. Coming up Geto as househusband 🥰

First few months of Sukuna's career as a househusband are nothing less than accidents that involved smoke alarms and questionable fire extinguisher techniques. The transition from malevolent kitchen to a less lethal one takes quite a minute.

From handing you Lunchables to becoming pinterest core this man takes quite a journey.

Everyday chores that start with ill concealed annoyance and were in the past pointedly pushed on to you are taken over the minute he notices the residues of shared lunch from another in your lunchbox.

How dare you accept someone else's food? The entire evening, Sukuna glared at the takeout pizza with enough intensity to melt the cheese. You swear the pepperoni visibly cowered under his icy gaze.

And the revelation that some random Joe- Shmoe, a pathetic nameless mortal, had lent you his lunch is enough incentive for this man get in action.

This old man has lived his share of luxury as the king of curses. So, the minute he decides to flex his culinary skills your lunches take an immediate promotion.

The obsolete cooking technique no one can replicate...? You bet he's pulling that.

Puts Uraume on the speed dial as the trials of kitchen begin for him. This time, though much to both their disappointment limited to animal meat.

Does not take long before both become grocery shopping buddies for life. Sukuna scowling at unfamiliar vegetables while Uraume patiently explains the difference between shallots and scallions to his Lord.

Weekends take a turn for the… interesting as you become their resident TikTok handler, phone propped precariously on the counter while they attempt to recreate the latest viral trends. Fruit Roll ice cream remains mind blowingly top tier in your household. Getting a reaction even from Uraume.

Sukuna preens under the praise at office potlucks, basking in the envious stares directed at your lunchbox. Every "wow" and "that looks amazing" fuels his ego.

But the real win? Insanely proud when he sees you take pictures of the lunches he makes and even more so when you show him the stories you post on the internet (save his old soul).

Deep into his retirement phase of immortality, Sukuna discovers the joy of aesthetic. This man takes one look at dark academia, gothic Victorian mood boards and not your living room looks like a lair worthy of a final boss villain (which, to be fair, it kind of already was)..

Super into thrifting or picking a random haunted piece of furniture to add character to your living space as he insists, despite your very real concerns about the wailing coming from the armchair at 3 am.

Still a baddie tho. Will get into fights with loud neighbors or bachelor pad finance bros when their trash isn't sorted properly. And it, unfortunately is your responsibility to drag this man back home.

Cleaning is where he draws the line. You will not spot Sukuna with a duster. Ever. So, hiring a cleaning service seemed like a brilliant solution. Except, Sukuna couldn't resist micromanaging their every move. The poor cleaning staff — a battle-hardened group of professionals — withered under his endless critiques on porcelain dusting techniques. Needless to say, generous tips were the only reason they continued to show up.

The King of Curses, a being who once feasted in halls of obsidian and dined on delicacies fit for gods. Yet, the peace and ownership of your little townhouse is sweeter than any other possession of past. His dirty little heart is endeared to his home with you.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #fluff #househusband au #ryomen sukuna

[lilacsbeeswax]

For regulus x potter reader maybe write something about how regulus shows up to the potters in the middle of the night like how Sirius did and he only asks for the reader bc he’s very upset but they didn’t want to make their relationship public so James is like wtf

Name: Safety

Pairing: Regulus Black x Fem!Potter!Reader

Fluff

Warnings: secret relationship, language, written during 3 separate 12 am writing sessions, kinda bad ending, possible inaccuracy, Regulus and Sirius’ parents :(, crying, use of Y/n, running away

Notes: I love the requests you sent in they are both beautiful and make me want to burst into tears right on spot. I hope you enjoy! 💕

“Alright kiddos,” My dad groans as he gets up from his spot on the couch, “I’m gonna go to bed. You can stay up a bit longer but, please, don’t cause harm to anything, okay?”

“Yeah, James, no more fires,” I quip, jokingly scowling at my older brother.

“That was one time!” James cries, obviously offended.

“I’m talking to you too, Y/n Potter, you both bring chaos into this house and I’m not looking to put out another fire at 3 in the morning,” Dad replies as he exits the room.

I turn to James and then look towards the pile of board and card games that we’ve collected over the years, “Uno?” I ask.

“Obviously,” He answers with a smirk.

---

“Oh! You bitch!” James yells as I set down a wild draw four, forcing him to add 4 more cards to his 18 others.

knock... knock... knock... A rap sounds from the front door making both of our heads turn, who could be here at this time of night?

“I’ll get it,” James sighs as he stands up. “Grab your wand in case it’s a murderer and I need backup.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, but grab my wand from the side table nonetheless. These days you never know who could be lurking around the corner.

In the entryway, the front door creaks, and I hear James exclaim with a strange amount of abhorrence in his tone, “What are you doing here?”

The voice that follows makes me stand up and I have to physically restrain myself from running straight toward it. I, instead, creep to the door overhearing every strained word, “I just need to see Y/n. I have to see her, please.”

I turn the corner to see Regulus Black standing on the covered porch with tear-stained cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He looks at me and his eyes light up, like a child receiving candy. He steps forward but stops himself from going any further obviously contemplating whether or not he should step in.

“Regulus? Are you okay?” I ask, rushing over to him and grabbing his face with both hands, searching for any sign of harm. He sets his hand onto one of my own and leans his forehead against mine. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, seemingly relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I just can’t do this without you,” He says as his voice quivers.

“It’s alright, lovey,” I reply, moving the hand he isn’t holding to run my fingers through his curls. “You can always come to me and I will be there, I promise.”

I lean in and kiss his lips savoring every second of the closeness. When we separate, I move to pull him into a long hug, his body is tense but melts into mine. It may be cliche but it feels like it’s only the two of us at this moment, unfortunately, it is not. James clears his throat and inquires, “What the fuck is happening?”

I separate from Regulus and step in front of him watching James shut the front door and walk back to the living room. We follow and observe him as he drops himself onto the couch and runs a hand over his face. James utters, “Well, are either of you going to explain, or do I just have to assume?”

“Well,” I begin, nervous for James’s reaction, “Regulus and I have been- well… dating for the past year or so.”

James opens his mouth as I try to speak but immediately closes it again, he repeats the cycle until he states, “Okay. Why are you here then, Black?”

“I, uh, it got really bad at Grimmauld Place earlier,” Regulus replies, looking down towards his feet. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Where’s Sirius?” James asks quickly, more worried about his best friend than anyone else.

“I don’t know, he didn’t come home last night, he only left behind a note that said, ‘later bitches’. They didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t know where he went,” Regulus answers grimly, I grab his hand when I notice his eyes start watering.

“Alright, don’t think we’re done talking about this, because we’re not, but I’m gonna go look for Sirius. Get him some tea or something and don’t be gross, I’ll be back soon,” James sighs and runs to the fireplace. Regulus and I observe as he grabs a handful of Floo powder and steps in. He slams the powder down and exclaims an address then immediately disappears leaving behind only ash and green flames.

I sit down on the couch with Regulus and bring him into a big bear hug, knowing he didn’t like initiating affection but needed some for the moment. He buries his face into my neck and breathes in deeply. I feel hot tears slowly drip onto my skin but I do nothing but move a hand up to his curls.

“Thank you for being here,” Regulus mumbles.

I respond, “I will always be here, my love for you is eternal.”

He leans back looking me in the eyes, “I will forever love you, Y/n. You are the stars in my galaxy.” I look into his red-rimmed, glossy eyes smiling at him. He chuckles, “If he wasn’t so worried about Sirius, James would be kicking my ass right about now.”

“I hope that he would keep the ass-kicking to a minimum,” I laugh, knowing the worst James would do is ignore me for a few hours until giving up because he got bored. “Besides I’d save you from him.”

“Would you now?” He entertains, life coming back to his features as we talk.

“Of course, I love you too much to let you be ended by, James, of all people.”

“Merlin, what are we going to do?” Regulus groans, “By the time they get here Sirius and James will have decided whether they will speak to us ever again.”

“We will do what we’ve been doing this entire time, this is none of their business,” I quip, “Besides, you’re staying here from now on whether they like it or not.”

“Really?” He questions, “Can I?”

“Of course, I’ll talk to my mom and we’ll sort it out. You will never have to go back there again,” I reply, strength filling my words.

I don’t ask what happened that night, but based on the past I can infer what he’s been through. If I can help it, I will never Regulus go through that again.

I never did.

#regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x potter!reader #regulus deserved better #regulus fluff #james potter x sister!reader #lilacsasks

[soulrph]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍.

i like to think that at least MOST of these can be made platonic!! but y’all use these at your discretion! i wish i could explain what inspired me to do these, but honestly i have no idea. i wanted soft stuff, i made the soft stuff, and now i give it to you guys for whatever wonderfully gifted plans you have for them! DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST! 

[ MANICURE ]:    sender and receiver paint each other's nails together.

[ JIGSAW ]:     sender and receiver do jigsaw puzzles together.

[ BOARD ]:     sender and receiver play board games together.

[ MOVIE ]:     sender and receiver enjoy a movie night together.

[ GAME ]:     sender and receiver enjoy a game night (using video games, board games and other mediums) together.

[ BAKE ]:     sender and receiver go baking together.

[ COOK ]:     sender and receiver go cooking together.

[ STYLE ]:     sender and receiver do each other's make-up.

[ BATH ]:     sender and receiver run a bath to share together.

[ RELAX ]:     sender and receiver arrange to do facials/a spa day together.

[ HAIR ]:     sender and receiver bathe and style one another's hair.

[ ARTISTS ]:     sender and receiver go painting/drawing together for the evening.

[ GINGERBREAD ]:     sender and receiver bake, build and decorate a gingerbread/cookie house together.

[ DECOR ]:     sender and receiver decorate a room together.

[ BUILD ]:     sender and receiver embark upon a DIY building project together.

[ PILLOW ]:     sender and receiver engage in a pillow fight with each other.

[ VIBE ]:     sender and receiver listen to music together.

[ BOOGIE ]:     sender and receiver dance to music together (either a full chaotic dance party or a slow dance).

[ Q&A ]:     sender and receiver play the question game together (i.e. asking random, soul-searching questions which they must answer honestly).

[ SIP ]:     sender and receiver play drinking games (not necessarily using alcohol! just a drink of choice) together (e.g. never have i ever, where one person says something they've never done before, and the other drinks if they have done it, or doesn't if they haven't).

[ MIX ]:     sender and receiver make cocktails together.

[ FROZEN ]:     sender and receiver design an ice-cream sundae bar together.

[ CHOICE ]:     sender and receiver ask each other a number of "would you rather" questions.

[ PIZZA ]:     sender and receiver make pizzas together from scratch.

[ PICNIC ]:     sender and receiver arrange and enjoy a living room/bedroom picnic together.

[ KARAOKE ]:     sender and receiver sing karaoke together.

[ HOLIDAYS ]:     sender and receiver plan a future vacation together.

[ CARE ]:     sender and receiver spend an evening looking after someone else's child or pet together.

[ TWIST ]:      sender and receiver play a game of twister together.

[ FIGHT ]:     sender and receiver engage in a game of play wrestling together.

[ OUTAGE ]:     sender and receiver end up stuck at home during a blackout and come up with electricity-free ways to entertain themselves.

[ DIP ]:     sender and receiver decided to do a lucky dip dinner night (in which they pick a theme from a random list and prepare a dinner date together based on that theme, e.g. disn.ey, the colour red, cold foods only).

[ HEAT ]:     sender and receiver embark upon a cooking challenge together (a cook-off!).

[ OVEN ]:     sender and receiver engage in a baking challenge against one another (think GBBO, but for two people in one kitchen!).

[ SPLASH ]:     sender and receiver arm themselves with water guns and prepare to soak one another in a water fight.

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay prompt #rp prompt #writing prompts #sentence starter #writing prompt #sentence starters #food mention tw

[justimajin]

The Language of Flowers

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

↳ 9.5k / Hanahaki AU

⇨ Hanahaki (pre-existing concept): a fictional disease in which an individual will cough up flowers after experiencing unrequited love.

Warnings: heavy angst, discussions of illness/surgery, implied smut (on the explicit end)

Love is funny. 

It blossoms unexpectedly, spontaneously conjuring up within seconds. A spur of the moment, which draws in budding affection. Love at first sight, that flourishes into sparks of tender electricity. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something more meaningful. 

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more as the handles of time spiral, adoration and devotion thrown into the mix and creating everlasting bliss. 

Until of course, it becomes long term, its longevity and commitment spanning an entire lifetime.

You glance around, pupils revolving around the blooming garden. There are long tables lined into rows, draped with lilac silk material and decorated with bright yellow flowers. Amongst them, an array of individuals are seated, chattering with one another. 

You find her closer to the fencing, where fairy lights are looped and a giant white board stands, the word ‘Engaged’ written in bold cursive purple. 

“Aera.” She turns around, dressed in a short white lace dress with a small tiara resting on her black hair, making her appear like a princess. Her eyes are wide, having been in mid-conversation before she heard your voice call out to her.

Her lips tug into a huge smile upon seeing your tender look, moving forward to envelop you into a hug. “Y/N!” 

You hug her back, “Thank you so much for coming. It wouldn’t have been possible without you.” 

“Don’t say that.” You sheepishly chuckle, but she presses on. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the one that introduced me to him.” 

You dismiss her, “I just introduced you two, you were the one to take it a step further.” 

Taking a step back, you gesture to the entire display of the white board and a bubbly laugh emerges from her. 

“Let me at least give you some credit.” 

“Fine, maybe I helped a little.” You retort and she grins at your acceptance. 

A low voice cuts through your conversation. 

“I moved the balloons like you wanted, the decorator said–”

A young man appearing to be within his twenties emerges, donning a white dress shirt with a black tie and pants. His dark hair is styled and parted back, brows furrowed and doe eyes swirling with focus. 

It doesn’t take you a second later to whisper his name. 

“Jungkook?” 

He halts his steps, frozen by the sound of his name. Head snapping up, recognition flows through his orbs. 

Within a heartbeat, he shutters out. “Y-Y/N?” 

Aera darts her eyes between both of you, taken aback with the familiarity with a frown.

“Do the two of you know each other?” 

“Ah– yes,” You quickly clarify, “We work together.”

“Yeah, we do.” He replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here…” 

“Well, I am friends with the bride.” You chuckle.

Aera pitches in, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “And she introduced me to Sunoo, Kookie!” 

He stiffens. “I see…”

“How do the two of you know each other?” You ponder, surprised by their proximity. If anything, you at least knew that Jungkook was greatly distant at work, never really going out of his way to speak to anyone. 

Aera warmly smiles, looping her arm around Jungkook’s, “Let me reintroduce you to the Jeon Jungkook,” She gazes at him with tender eyes, “My childhood friend and the person dearest to my heart…“ 

Pausing, she adds in, “–after Sunoo, of course.” 

You nod understandably, but Jungkook lets out a low cough. 

“I-I should go,” He brings up, “See if the decorator needs any more help.” 

You watch as he loops out of her arm, swiftly turning around without another word. 

A pout surfaces on Aera’s lips, like she wanted him to stay longer with you. 

But then she turns and catches your intrigued gaze, orbs brightening up in an instant. She dips into conversation once more as if he never left, occupied with showcasing the giant ring that now sits on her third finger. 

Yet if you had been paying enough attention, you would have noticed the flicker of dread in Jungkook’s eyes. 

***

As you attempt to catch up with Aera, it’s not long before she’s being whisked away by her husband-to-be, who you warmly greet with a smile. 

Being left alone, you decide to head over to one of the side tables, setting down the gift you had bought for them before filtering through all the guests to find your seat. 

Locating an empty one on the same table Aera and Sunoo would be at, you sit down and take a napkin, carefully placing it down onto your lap. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Jungkook. He glances around, doe eyes frantic and lips pursed. He awkwardly lingers for a moment – like he was debating on being there, unsure of where to look or where to go. 

It’s surprising to you, considering only moments ago he was effortlessly navigating himself to the decorator’s instructions.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing the two of you aren’t particularly close. However, as his confusion spins by the minute, you ultimately decide it wouldn’t be so bad and give in. 

“Jungkook!” You call out, watching his train of vision fall onto you. Taking out a chair next to you, your hand waves over with a warm smile. 

Jungkook glances around one more time, before walking over with his head ducked down. 

Instead of taking the one beside you, he takes the one on the opposite side – the one that is furthest away from Aera. 

You raise a brow, wondering why he didn’t want to sit closer to the bride and of course, his childhood friend, but you freeze when your orbs land on his appearance.

His eyes are glossed over, tinged with red. They almost seem hollow, dark circles collecting underneath them and his shoulders are caved in. 

“Are–…” You quickly glance around, words dropping into a whisper before leaning in, “Are you okay?”

Jungkook’s pupils snap back into life and he furiously nods, shifting uncomfortably away from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” He sniffles, voice coming out hoarse. His field of vision lands on the decorations upon the table, features straining with dismay, “I’m just allergic to the flowers.” 

Your own eyes follow his line of sight, falling onto the beautiful, bright yellow petals. In fact, they’re littered everywhere – from the long tables lined up, to the blooming garden, to even attached to the white board that sits in the front. 

“Tulips,” You remark, “Aera’s–” 

“Favorite flower.” He mumbles, pupils focused down on his fidgeting hands and not bothering to take a glance at them. 

An involuntary harsh cough escapes his throat.

You lean over, grabbing a jug full of water and a glass, filling it up. Tapping him on the shoulder, he looks up, fatigue radiating deep within his irises before they morph into surprise. 

He takes the glass hesitantly, muttering a small thank you before you turn your attention back to the front, watching all the guests take their places as the food gets served.

Save for the few occasional glances stemming from concern, you and Jungkook don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the duration.

***

The evening spins away – dinner is all served and more guests pool in. You occasionally smile, greeting new people and munching down on the contents placed in front of you. 

Amongst all this, Aera is attached to Sunoo, a tender smile on her features as they deeply gaze into each other’s eyes and beam with so much sweet affection. 

You grin when she calls for you to take a picture with the two to them, instantly leaving your table and trudging over. Looping your arm with Aera and standing opposite to Sunoo, all three of you smile as the photographer’s flash goes off. 

“You two look really good together.” You comment and Aera giggles, eyes crinkling in the direction of her to-be-husband. 

She leans closer to him, brushing his lips against hers for a kiss. Sunoo follows suit, clasping onto her hands. 

They radiate the to-be-wed glow, encased in their own bubble of infectious love and happiness. It’s joyous for anyone to watch, to see two people be so utterly and completely in love with each other.

At least, that’s what you think.

As you turn to greet another one of Aera’s friends, you catch a flash of movement from the corner of your eyes.

You blink, but then there’s a tap against your shoulder. 

“Y/N,” Aera asks, her head surveying around, “Do you know where Jungkook is?” 

You swivel, mimicking her puzzlement. “I-I’m not sure…” 

“That’s too bad, I wanted to take a picture with him.” Aera remarks and a frown lines your lips. You had just seen Jungkook sitting by the table by himself moments ago, but now he’s up and disappeared, just when the photographer had started taking photos.

You sigh, not understanding his train of thought. 

Turning to Aera, you give her a quick reassured smile. “Focus on Sunoo, I’ll go find him for you.” 

She breaks into a huge relieved grin and nods, returning to her husband’s side. 

Spinning around, you walk in the opposite direction. 

Your head darts back and forth. 

You had entered into the side building, the one adjacent to the garden where the engagement party was being held. It’s empty save for the occasional workers or bystanders you pass, either trying to help set up or busy conversing with one another. However, you don’t find the head of dark hair and pair of doe eyes you’re trying to locate, simply left mulling if he had truly decided to leave. 

That is, until there’s a black tie resting near the soles of your feet. 

You pick it up in suspicion, instantly recognizing it as the same one Jungkook had donned when you had met him prior in the evening.

Peering around while gripping the tie, you wonder why it was so clumsily thrown onto the ground, as if he didn’t care about where it ended up–

The sound of retching startles you. 

You glance around, wondering if you had imagined it. But then you hear it – a low choked sob, and your feet are gyrating, ears keenly picking up on the sound.

Your feet falter for a moment, having stopped right in front of the men’s bathroom. 

Biting down your bottom lip, you cautiously push against the door, darting your pupils around. 

It's completely empty, save for one stall in the far corner.

Your heels click against the ground, turning to face it. Noticing it slightly open, you raise your hand, preparing to knock and ask him if he was okay, if he has perhaps consumed too much alcohol than expected, or if he needed anything – infinite questions ready to tumble out of your lips.

But that’s when you feel a slight flutter against your foot. 

Peering down curiously, you breath hitches and you nearly stumble back. 

For there’s a fragrant and beautiful, bright yellow petal there. 

Hand quivering, you lightly push against the door. 

It opens, and your mouth falls agape at the sight. 

Jungkook is on his knees, hunched over the toilet, completely surrounded by yellow flowers. His eyes are squeezed shut, shudders running through his body and tears pooling into his eyes. Despite being very tall, his frame looks small and cramped, sweat clinging to his temples. 

You thought it was all fake, a disease so rare that it could be considered a myth. But the flowers spilling out from his coughing lips is enough to reel you back into reality, cementing that it was all true – all the puzzling pieces of information stemming from the rumors, all the hushed whispers of unrequited love. 

You were wrong, so utterly wrong. 

Your hands cover your mouth, voice only managing to come out in a shakingly whisper. 

“O-Oh my god….” 

Jungkook heaves as the last flower slips out, finally noticing your presence as his eyes snap back. 

Your widened ones make contact with his half-lidded orbs, which expand into complete horror. 

***

You don’t remember how long it took – how long you merely stood there, glancing at his horror stricken irises with a mix of terror and confusion in your own. You had watched as his eyes diverted away, a deep flush coating his skin as he had leaned back, gripping the edge of the wall for dear support. 

“Tulips.” You had murmured, “Aera’s–”

“Favorite flower.” He croaks, a harsh rasp to his voice. His quivering hands reach out, attempting to scoop up the remaining flowers on the ground. 

His pupils widened when your shaking ones reached out as well, gaze concentrated as you discard them into the toilet can. But he continues, ensuring each and every single petal had been collected before rising to his feet, wobbling a bit as he turns to flush the contents away for good. 

You had quietly trailed out of the bathroom, walking behind his light footsteps.

A moment of silence overtakes you as you reach the opposite side of the building, far from where there are guests celebrating the new engagement. The fresh breeze weaves through your hair, nipping at your skin and offering a change of atmosphere. 

Jungkook seems to like it as well, a content sigh leaving him as opposed to the profuse spilling of flowers inside a cramped stall he was experiencing just moments ago. 

A thousand questions are ready to burst out from you, but amongst them is one that already has an answer.

“I-Is it…” You warily gaze at him, “...Aera?”

Jungkook visibly gulps, fear echoing deep in his doe irises. You’re startled when he snatches onto your wrist, grip tightening as his eyes desperately scan your expression. 

“Please…” He inhales, “Please don’t tell her...” 

You slowly nod, gaze still trained on him as his shoulders slump down, relief flooding his body. 

Your voice drops into a whisper, “H-How long has this been going on…?” 

Jungkook’s lip thin out, and his gaze is on the ground. 

Sucking in a breath, he reveals the answer that has a harsh gasp escaping you. 

“A year.” 

“A year?!” You sharply repeat, “Jungkook, how are you still alive?” 

Your coworker had been quietly suffering the effects for a whole entire year, delving within his own misery and attempting to live a normal life as the disease ate away at him. 

He shakes his head, like he didn’t want your thoughts invading his mind, “Why haven’t you just gotten the surgery?”

“I-I can’t…” He whispers, brows furrowing. 

“Why not?” You press forward, concern filling you to the brim, “The rumors say that hanahaki consumes the individual’s lungs within a year, leading their entire system to shut down–”

“Because I can’t, Y/N.” His words are louder and firmer, but there’s guilt swimming in his orbs. “I…I don’t want to forget her.” 

Your lips pursue, knowing what the rumors had to say about the surgery. That along with all the flowers, each and every memory is taken, ripped out of the patient’s mind until they have no more recollection of the feelings, the love they had once felt for their person.

Which means Jungkook’s only other alternative would be for Aera to reciprocate his feelings. 

Your stomach churns, guilt radiating out from you. 

“She can’t love you back…” You whisper and Jungkook’s eyes snap up, brimming with despair. 

“She’s engaged now, and I…I can't take it all away from her,” He hurriedly explains, voice shrinking down into an anguished whisper, “Not when I love her so much...” 

“But…are you just going to let yourself die?” 

He has no other option. The fonder his heart grows, so do the petals, spreading out within his airway until his breathing is completely constricted. Without the removal surgery or reciprocated feelings, he’s caged – left to fight the disease on his own until he ultimately succumbs to it, drawing out his last breath in the name of the same love.

Jungkook is silent, your words lingering within the empty space between you. 

He continues to remain silent, but then his features twist and something snaps. 

His eyes are glossed over, shoulders hunched as he chokes out a sob. 

You’re startled, but you realize it then and there. 

He knows he’s resigned to his fate and at this point, all he can do is receive the illness that’s marred his pathway with flowers.

You’re not very close to Jungkook, but it doesn’t hold you back from outstretching your arms, hands wrapping around his torso as the tears stream down his eyes, form violently trembling.

Aera’s eyes had sparked up when you returned with Jungkook following suit. You watch with dismay as he places a hand on her shoulder, a weak smile on his lips. Jungkook’s condition is obvious, there’s dark circles underneath his eyes, his skin pale and fatigue running deep in his shoulders. But he continues to pose for the photo, not ignoring Aera’s plea to take more with her husband.

Sunoo stands on the other side of them, sharing Aera’s tender smile when she glances at him. Jungkook’s lip twitches, smile slightly faltering. 

As the evening draws to an end, your gaze is attached to Jungkook’s every movement, watching him turn on his heels and begin to take the various decorations down. All as Aera and Sunoo have their arms wrapped around each other, fondly staring down at the rings on their hands.

A bitter taste lingers on your lips.

It stays for a while – even as you’re knocking on Jungkook’s door the next day. 

To be honest, you’re not sure what you're trying to accomplish. Jungkook and you were merely coworkers, bypassing each other occasionally or conversing through cubicles when work called for it. 

But there’s a piece of you deep inside that can't help but feel awful. Awful that in a way you were the one to resign him to the fate of his disease with your own actions, pointing out to Aera that there was a guy you knew back in your college days together that would be her type, even helping out to get his number for her.

Conversely, even though you weren't aware of Jungkook’s existence in her life, the image of him hunched over, trembling as the flowers endlessly poured around and circled his sobbing form, is hauntingly ingrained inside your mind, a deep chill running through your spine anytime the memory plays. 

The door swings open, revealing a started Jungkook. 

Knowing what you know now, makes it hard to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the deep circles underneath his eyes ever most present and his skin drained of life. You suspect he’s even lost weight from the last handful of times you’ve seen him at work, the disease taking its sweet time to slowly break him down, bit by bit, till his lungs are full and bursting with flowers. 

“W-What are you doing here?” 

You take in a deep breath, “You’re off from work, right? To be here for the wedding.” 

Aera’s wedding is closer to the end of the month, set seven days after the engagement. 

Seven days left until hanahaki runs its full course of a year, the victim falling prey to its effects and their lungs being forever constricted. 

He slowly nods, “I thought we could go out, do something aside from wedding preparations.” 

Jungkook goes silent and you gnaw on your bottom lip. You knew that the wedding plans were still going on, that Aera would need assistance from the two of you, but you know he’s spending all this time helping the very person he loves, without ever getting to be with her.

You wonder if he’ll protest, if he’ll remark that she needs him and that he needs her, that there’s no way he can halt the planning process for his own needs.

But Jungkook heavily exhales, and you wonder if he can see the pity in your eyes. 

“Okay.” He simply utters, much to your surprise. He widens the door, letting you in before swiveling, attempting to look for his jacket. 

You stand rather awkwardly by the front of his apartment, pleasantly surprised to find the black and white layout of the place, with everything appearing meticulously organized. It’s almost too clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. 

However, the layout seems too simplistic, the black and white not contrasting well with the sunlight that tries to pour in, appearing more bleak and empty for your own liking. 

It feels lonely. 

You press your lips together, a grimace running through you. How long has he been quietly suffering by himself, keeping distance from others? The Jungkook you know wouldn’t even attend events or go out for drinks with everyone else post-work, but now he’s submerged within guests everyday and next to the person he loves, suppressing flowers from spewing out.

Jungkook emerges soon, throwing on a black jacket. Stepping outside with you, he lets out a sharp cough, rubbing his throat with a wince.

“Where to?” He ponders, looking at you with his big doe eyes.

You shrug, “Coffee?” 

He nods, and you lead him to the local coffee shop you’ve frequented a couple of times after work, one that’s more closed in and has cozy booths. It isn't popular by any means, only a few individuals occupying the seats, but it’s something you notice Jungkook relishes in from the corner of your eyes, form visibly easing from the low amount of prying looks. 

You order your drinks, asking Jungkook what he wanted and he simply murmurs that anything was okay. Within minutes, two lattes are handed to you and you join him by the booth he’s seated at, a deep frown marring your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you wince, pushing the drink closer to him. 

“Sorry…I didn’t realize this cafe also did coffee art.” 

Jungkook's eyes are wide as the drink comes in front of him, a foamy little white heart greeting his line of vision.

The corner of his mouth curls up. 

“It’s okay.” He remarks, “I think it’s rather cute.” 

You look at him in surprise, but he’s already bringing the drink up to his lips, cautiously taking a sip from the heated mixture.

The words blurt out before you can stop them.

“I’m really sorry.” 

He halts, placing the drink down. “Y/N, I said it was okay–”

“No, not that.” You harshly swallow, “I-I’m sorry…about Aera…” 

He stares at you perplexed and you explain, “I was the one to bring her and Sunoo together. I knew both of them and thought they would work well as a couple.” 

Your eyes flutter shut, biting down on your lip, “If only I had known about your relationship with her, I could have–”

“Y/N.” He stops your train of thought, hand brushing against yours. You immediately stare down at it, and he notices, sheepishly removing it in an instant as his complexion dusts pink. 

He clears his throat, “Don’t apologize. Me and Aera…we were never meant to be, even if you stepped in.” 

You stare at him, “We were friends for years…and even as I came to realize my feelings recently, Aera never once felt the same for me, no matter what I did.” He chuckles bitterly, “I was always Jungkook, her childhood friend, and nothing more.” 

Anguish spreads over his features and your heart sinks. You can imagine a younger Jungkook, gaze filled with adoration and affection for the girl, desperately seeking for something, anything to be similarly reflected in her own eyes. 

Remorse flickers over you, “But I can imagine Sunoo’s sudden appearance wasn’t all that great for you...” 

Jungkook’s gaze falls down, a soft yet wistful smile on his lips. “It confirmed a lot for me, mainly that this disease was going to turn out to be more permanent than I had initially assumed.” 

You bite back your words, wanting to tell him that it isn’t just permanent, that the disease would reside with him until he finally succumbs to it. 

But you can’t bring yourself to, not when there’s so much hurt swirling in his eyes, the disease already physically manifesting itself against his own wishes.

At his silence, you sit up straighter, desperate to change the topic of conversation you had to spring up.

“What do you do outside of work?” You question, “Do you have any hobbies or anything?” 

Anything you do to cope? – you can only silently wonder. 

Your questions catches him off guard. “Not really…” He deeply ponders, “At the most, I’ve been just working…and of course, helping Aera when I had time off.” 

You nod, features twisting. But then his eyes light up.

“Sometimes I like to game.” 

“Game?” You blink and he slowly nods, sipping down on his latte. “I could have never taken you for a gamer.” 

Something you wouldn’t have expected from the quiet man who would bump shoulders with you at work. 

“It’s fun, I like playing games online.” He states, “It helps not having to worry about…” 

His face sours as he gestures to himself and you quickly nod, not wanting him the chance to fill in the blanks. 

“Maybe you could show me sometime.” You suggest, and he looks at you surprised. To be fair, you don’t know the first thing about online gaming, but watching Jungkook’s expression change, having some spark of joy, is too much for you to miss out on.

A soft smile lines his lips. “Sure.”

You mimic his smile, bringing the remains of the latte to your lips.

Aera is to be married soon, Jungkook knows that. 

As such, he’s aware that moments with her are consistent, that she gazes into his eyes with a wide smile regularly, making his heart skip far too many beats. 

But what he is pleasantly unaware of is just how involved you are, unabashedly seeking him out when you need assistance with picking up favors for the wedding. 

“There should be at least a hundred candles wrapped with thank you notes,” You mumble, brows furrowed together as you read the text off your phone. The sun is bright and shining down, a light breeze lingering in the air that truthfully makes his chest feel lighter. 

You glance up, confused eyes connecting with his wide ones. “I can’t open them to check, right?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t think so.” 

“But then how do I know they made them properly?” You gesture towards the box resting before his feet in exasperation. 

Letting out a huff, you shake your head. “I swear, this whole wedding business is so much more complicated than it really needs to be.” 

A light chuckle resonates through the air and you stare at Jungkook in astonishment, watching at how the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“Believe me, I know.” He chides, leaning down to pick up the box. “I’ve been helping to plan this wedding for months.” 

“For months?” You question in puzzlement, reaching out to help him balance it. However, he pushes your hands away, gesturing for you to let him carry it. 

You frown, but oblige when he starts to walk. “That must have been so stressful. I’ve been only helping out for the last couple of weeks and it’s already making me want to rip my hair out.”

The corners of his lips tugs up and you continue, the words escaping you before you can stop. “Why would you go to such lengths?” 

You freeze in an instant, already knowing the reason as to why.

“–Sorry,” You quickly retract, “I-I didn’t mean it like that…”

Jungkook shakes his head, almost feeling something akin to amusement. 

His condition is supposed to be a secret, a taboo of a disease and something he’s never uttered a single word to another soul. He supposes that you’re different, that you weren’t someone he told out of his own volition, but rather someone that stumbled upon it. 

Which gives him no reason to hide from you. That, and the fact that you’re so mindful about his potential reactions. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He simply says, but picks up on the curiosity swirling within your orbs. 

“If I can ask…how difficult has it been? Planning all this and dealing with…” 

You wave your finger into the air, letting the sentence complete itself and it makes him want to smile. 

“It’s kind of hard to explain…” He murmurs, falling deep into thought, “I know Aera doesn’t love me, but I still want to see her happy, you know?” 

A low chuckle leaves him, gaze downcasting. “I guess that makes me sound really stupid.” 

“No, not at all.” You justify, “You’re right, it’s hard to explain and even harder for someone like me to understand, but you’ve known Aera for so long, and I can imagine that you care a lot about her…” 

 – and that your love runs deeper than you probably would have imagined – you silently think. 

He hums, glancing around as you cross the street together, your eyes focusing onto his backside. 

After a moment of contemplation, you speak up.

“You know, I really hope I’m not causing you any trouble.” You explain, “I know talking about it can be–” 

“It’s okay.” He replies, “I don’t mind, you’re…really easy to talk to.

You’re surprised by the soft smile he holds while glancing in your direction, but it’s one that you don’t hesitate to return.

A bright yellow flower lands right in front of your face. 

You and Jungkook both jolt, the elderly woman in front of you holding a wide grin. It’s only then you realize that you’re near a boutique, selling flowers to those passing by.

“These beautiful tulips are fresh,” She states, attempting to play matchmaker as both you and Jungkook flush, “It’s said they represent unconditional love.” 

You blink, the scent of the flowers being shoved right into your faces. Jungkook stills, holding in his breath as his form slightly trembles.

You clear your throat immediately, pushing them away. 

“We’re okay.” You take a step back, “I’m allergic to flowers.” 

She grimaces, realization donning upon her that neither of you meant business. You don’t think twice, grabbing Jungkook's wrist and whisking him away from the deeply fragrant area.

It’s only when you walk a good handful of steps away that Jungkook tugs on you, a sheepish look on his features that has your confused eyes widening.

You let go of him, “Sorry.” 

He softly shakes his head. “It’s okay.” 

His head turns, gaze concentrated on the store from a distance. 

The next question leaving his lips has you taken aback, “What’s your favorite flower, Y/N?” 

You deeply mull over it, drawing a blank. “I-I can’t say I have one….” 

He ponders over it and your eyes flicker over to him, “What about you?” 

“Ah–” He lightly laughs, scratching the back of his neck. Your eyes widen when he places the box down and takes hold of his sleeve, rolling it back a few inches.

An array of images greet you immediately, but among them is a giant orangish-red flower carved into his forearm. 

“It’s my birth flower.” He informs. 

You stare at it in pure awe and wonder, the ink swirling his skin beautifully. 

Your voice comes out in a whisper, “What is it called?” 

“The tiger flower.” 

You hum, still looking at it in fascination. “Wow…it’s amazing.” 

Jungkook silently watches, oddly feeling exposed for suddenly revealing an important piece of himself to you. But as he notices your irises brightening and lips curving up, he can’t help but warmly smile, his chest swelling with pride underneath your observations.

Ending up at Jungkook’s apartment becomes a staple for you. 

You don’t know how or when, but through figuring out the delivery for the cake to ensuring you had enough tables for the RSVP'd guests, your messages to Jungkook would occasionally stray over to pondering over how he was doing. His responses always ended in simple reassurances, much to your own dismay, but then he would stray too, bringing up that if you ever felt like coming over again, you could. 

At first, you didn’t want to be rude by declining, but then it became to the point where Jungkook expects you, swinging open to his door non-chantlently.

“Did you eat yet?” 

Entering inside, you shake your head and he turns, heading into his kitchen. You glance around, ultimately deciding to sit on his couch. 

There’s a table right next to it, a handful of picture frames that have your heart twisting. 

They stand out in the midst of his bleak apartment, having an odd touch of hearth to them. There’s different age ranges – roughly around ages nine, twelve, fifteen – all of Aera and Jungkook together. There’s ones of them as small children, bright eyed with huge smiles, to ones where they’re a bit older, smiles turning warm and eyes tender. You muse at how adorable Jungkook looked when he was younger, a light to his crinkled eyes that you don’t really see much anymore.

His footsteps pad into the room, two bowls of instant ramen in his hands. You swivel around and his eyes catch the movement, but if anything he’s learned, it’s that you’re naturally very curious, surprise not even crossing him.

“We can go to my room,” He gestures to the doorway across the hall, “I already have my computer set up.” 

You frown, rising from your seat and following behind him. The room is dark, all the lights turned off save for some sunlight peeking through his black drapes, and you’re astonished to find his room just as organized as the rest of his apartment. 

Off to the side, there’s a bright lit screen alongside a keyboard that glows different colors. 

“Woah.” You mutter and Jungkook hands you your instant ramen, before sitting on the large gaming chair and pulling a seat up for you.

You slurp on your noodles as the game loads. Once it does, his hand revolves around the settings for a moment before he dives into action, his fingertips tapping at an incredible speed across the keyboard and mouse furiously clicking. He seems completely zoned into the game, almost like he had forgotten where he was for a moment.

Nonetheless, you watch with wide eyes as he effortlessly wins the first round, hands coming around to search for his own ramen. He continues to keep playing, pupils never once leaving the monitor and you’re fascinated with how well he’s able to multitask. 

His eyes connect with yours, a grin surfacing on his lips. “Want to try?” 

Unease fills you, “I don’t know, I’m not the greatest with games–”

“You’ll be fine.” He insists and you nervously nod, giving into his wishes. He gently guides your hand over the mouse, watching you attempting to shoot things with terrible coordination. 

It’s when you accidentally shoot someone that was trying to heal you that Jungkook bursts into laughter, a beautiful melodious tone that echoes off the walls. 

“I told you I’m terrible!” You protest with a pout, and his laughter still bubbles as he moves behind you. 

“Here, let me show you.” His hand laces over yours, effortlessly navigating your character. 

You smile at the assistance, watching him cross all the hurdles and play infinitely better in comparison. 

You turn to remark about it, but the words die in your throat. 

His face is inches away from you, something he notices right away too. Neither of you move, the sounds coming from the game lingering in the background.

Jungkook shifts and you instantly move, your hand hitting your container of noodles. 

It spills onto the ground and you immediately get up, clearing your throat.

“I-I’ll go get something to clean it up.” Jungkook simply nods, watching your backside disappear. 

You head straight into his kitchen, pressing a hand against your racing heart. Deeply inhaling and exhaling, you glance around for a cloth, locating it on the edge of the counter immediately and turning back. 

The doorbell rings. 

You blink, hearing the loud sounds of the game coming from Jungkook’s room and wondering if you had imagined it. But then it rings again and you scramble forward, grasping onto the knob.

The sight before you shock you to your core. 

Aera stands in front of you, arms crossed and her orbs tinged with cracks of red. They widen at the appearance of you, the shock scattering over her features reflecting your own. 

“Y/N?” 

“Aera?” You blurt out, wondering what she was doing here. 

Her grand wedding is supposed to be in three days, and here she was. 

Jungkook’s voice cuts through, “Y/N? Is everything oka–” 

You hear his footsteps pad through the apartment before his breath hitches. Aera steps right in at the sight of him, walking straight past you and throwing her arms around his torso. 

She sobs loudly and Jungkook’s pupils quiver, making direct eye contact with your confused ones, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. 

There’s a painful tinge in the center of your chest, but you ignore it. 

“S-Sunoo–” Aera sputters out, clutching onto Jungkook tighter. “S-Sunoo and I….we had a fight!”

Jungkook can barely muster out any words, harshly swallowing. Your eyes widen at the reaction, and it’s not long before a cough leaves his lips. 

You step forward, placing your hand on her back. “Aera, how about we take this outside?” 

Her head tilts, like she had just noticed you’re also in the room. 

At her silence, you slowly peel her hands off of Jungkook, who quickly scurries away into the confines of his room.

Aera’s taken aback with response, but nonetheless follows you like a lost puppy.

The moment you’re outside the apartment, she spills. “We ended up fighting, Y/N! Can you imagine?!”

She sobs more, eyes connecting with the door behind you. 

“Why won’t Jungkook come out?” 

“He’s…not feeling the best.” You wince, unable to come up with a better answer. “You know, you should check in on him every now and then.” 

Images of the splattered flowers echo through your mind. 

“What’s there to check?” She chuckles, sniffling and wiping her tears, “Jungkook’s always fine.”

Your chest tightens, something unfamiliar brewing. 

“No one’s ever always fine.” You grit. 

Even if his symptoms weren’t so painfully obvious, there was no way to simply dismiss it all as something mere like work fatigue. 

Aera eyes you, baffled by your tone, “Since when have the two of you gotten close?” 

You open your mouth a couple of times – unable to muster the exact words for an answer. However, you relent, shaking it away and opting to ask her about Sunoo instead, to which she gladly focuses on. 

***

You spend a considerable amount of time coaxing Aera that Sunoo still loved her and that being stressed about wedding planning was completely normal. 

She cries continuously and you pat her back, sprouting as much reassurance as you can all while bypassing any of her further inquiries about Jungkook. It seems to help, because soon she’s nodding in agreement as the tears within her eyes begin to dry. 

She departs and you manage to head back into the apartment, exhausted beyond belief. 

But Jungkook lingers in your mind. 

You bolt into his room, heading directly into the connecting bathroom. The door whips open, and your heart clenches at the sight before you.

There’s bright yellow tulips. Everywhere. And Jungkook is in the middle of them, form slouched against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut and sweat sticking to his temples. 

You immediately crouch down, placing his weak arm around your neck and helping him to his feet. When he sways, you let him lean his weight against you. 

Sitting him down onto his bed, you withdraw into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. Reentering the bedroom, his gaze is downcasted and you silently hand him the drink, watching his fingertips curl around the cup. 

You then walk back into the bathroom, taking every piece of petal that’s been scattered and throwing it into the toilet can. You flush it down the drain as Jungkook sips on the water, quietly watching you from afar. 

You sit down next to him with a deep sigh, silence overtaking the dark room. 

A shuddering breath leaves him. 

“I started to forget…” He croaks, grasping your attention immediately, “I actually managed to forget about everything for once. The engagement, the wedding, her…” 

You remorsefully watch as his eyes flutter shut, noticing the single tear that rolls down his cheek. It propels you to shift forward, wrapping your arms around him comfortingly. 

He leans into your touch, head resting on your shoulder and his arm curling around your waist. 

There’s a thought that lingers in the back of your mind, seemingly growing louder and louder with every passing minute. 

“You know…” He lets out a low hum and you continue, willing all your courage together. “I ended up thinking about a third alternative in curing you.” 

Within a heartbeat, he mumbles – “What was it?” 

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you let it out. 

“For you to fall in love…with someone else.” 

His breath hitches, form stiffening underneath your fingertips. You part from him and he slowly raises his head, staring at you impassively. 

You fidget underneath his gaze, unable to read his thoughts. 

After what feels like an eternity, you slowly pull yourself away from him. It was wrong of you to bring it up and you want to curse yourself for thinking otherwise. 

Shuffling your feet, you stand up. 

Jungkook’s hand clasps onto yours, tugging you towards him in an instant. Your eyes morph with surprise, but then his lips collide with yours. 

It steals your breath away, warmth flooding through you and making you melt at his touch. He tentatively moves against you, lips softly brushing against your own. 

He pulls back for a split second, chest rising and falling. But you lean forward, pressing your lips against his once again. 

And that’s all it takes to drown. 

Jungkook litters kisses all down your jaw and neck, and you find yourself stumbling backwards, back hitting his mattress. It’s only a matter of a few moments before his torso is hovering over you, and you reach up, clutching onto his shoulders. 

Your clothes scatter across the room and Jungkook’s bare chest presses against you. He marks your skin in the shape of his lips, all while his name profusely tumbles out of your own. He pushes into you, gently at first, like he has something to prove. You accept him fully, nails sinking into his back as you both climax, an onslaught of gasps and moans escaping the two of you. 

His arm wraps securely around your waist, and you're lulled into a deep sleep.

You’re woken to the sound of retching.

A gasp parts from your lips, and you immediately scramble up from the bed, dressed in only the shirt Jungkook had been wearing the night before. You stumble into the bathroom, finding Jungkook hunched over and surrounded with the yellow flowers once again. 

However, your breath hitches. 

Because this time there’s more of them, and they're all splattered with drops of scarlet.

“Jungkook!” You exclaim, knees buckling down. Placing your hand on his shaking back, you rub it up and down comfortingly. 

“I-I was starting to feel b-better…” He chokes out in defeat, hands clutching onto the toilet. A cluster of coughs leave him, his voice disappearing as more and more red stained flowers overflow out.

You attempt to coax him, features twisted from watching him be contorted in so much pain. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” Your hold on him is firm, “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry, we’ll–” 

“Y-You don’t understand….” He cries out, "I-I can't, Y/N…."

A deep furrow in your brows form and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes shut as his forehead lulls down, “I-I can’t do this anymore….I-I’m still in love with her."

It feels like someone’s just stabbed you in the heart.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, entangled in too much shame and agony to dare raise his head and say the same words with your eyes meeting his. The same pair of eyes that discovered him one day and reached out, not letting him stumble on his own anymore.

Orbs glossing over, you rise with shaky legs. The feeling in the pit of your chest twists and knots, spreading through you like a deep ache. 

Jungkook can’t say anything, not even at the sound of you grabbing your clothes, the unevenness of your footsteps against his carpet, or the door shutting on your way out from his apartment, the frequency echoing off the walls. His gaze remains fixated on the flowers, even plucking one completely smeared in red, wondering why fate was always so cruel to him – why, in his mind when he’s smiling and laughing with you, Aera’s warm eyes and big smile show up there instead, forever imprinted into his brain.

***

You stagger on your way home. 

A stream of hot tears roll down your face, with harsh breaths shuddering out of you. Your sobs are thundering and violent, racking through your entire form. 

There’s a thousand emotions running through you, leaving your mind completely numb and your body feeling like it’s breaking, scattering into pieces. You wonder how you could have let it gotten to this point, wonder how you could have been so foolish. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you soon arrive at your apartment complex. You can barely unlock the front door, gasping as you stumble in. 

You fall right at the entrance, clawing your hands around your throat, eyes rapidly darting and flickering everywhere. The pain accelerates, winding tortuously over and over around your windpipe. 

The cord snaps. 

A sharp chain of coughs leaves your lips, vibrating down your throat and through your lungs. It morphs into a retch and the contents come spilling forth before you can even blink. 

Deeply heaving, you can only stare helplessly at the clutter of bright orangish-red tiger flowers before you. 

Love is twisted. 

It threatens to find you unexpectedly, spontaneously making you crumble within seconds. It’s a spur of the moment, welcoming in painful affection. Love at first sight, that withers into petals of grief. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something that turns your entire world upside down. 

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more, rendering you weak and constricting your breathing, just as the mere thought of it makes you feel sick. 

Until of course, it becomes long term, a trail of flowers never leaving your side. 

You don’t see Jungkook for the remaining days until the wedding, avoiding him like the plague. He doesn’t reach out, keeping to himself like he’s always done. 

However, running into him at the wedding now, is a completely different story. 

He’s dressed in a sleek fitted black suit, his hair styled and pushed back. He’s working alongside the caterer, a crease in between his brows as he ensures the food arrives in a timely manner. 

You had just entered the venue, eyes scanning around for any indication of where Aera might be. 

As cruel as fate would be, your eyes suddenly find his. 

You attempt to look away, but it only takes three steps for Jungkook to be right in front of you. 

He looks the same, his skin pale and dark circles still underneath his eyes, tiredness running deep through him. 

He opens and closes his mouth several times, before quietly asking a question that has you nearly coughing. 

“Are…are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Your voice comes out croaked, immediately taking a step back from him. He catches the movement and you notice it right away – the way his eyes scan all over your face.

You wonder if he can see the fatigue in your shoulders, wonder if he can see the bags starting to form under your eyes, or how pale you seem to have gotten. Wonder if he knows you were throwing up just this morning, mind swirling with thoughts of him and lungs brimming with flowers, unable to loosen the imprint he’s left.

“Are you sure? I–” He reaches out and you flinch, but then a call of your name has you spinning around. 

“Aera has been looking for you two.” A woman you instantly recognize as her mother, informs. You nod, ignoring the pleading look in Jungkook’s eyes that just makes your lungs constrict.

After all, you were here for someone else entirely. 

But when you and Jungkook follow her into a side room to see Aera completely decked out in a lavious white wedding dress, you can only harshly swallow. 

“Y-You look amazing.” You sputter out, and she has a huge, radiant smile. 

“Isn’t it lovely?” She chuckles, “I can’t wait until you get married and wear one too, Y/N!” 

You know she means well, but your lips are pursued together, not a single word slipping out as you numbingly nod. 

She turns to Jungkook, her smile widening, “What do you think, Kookie?” 

It catches Jungkook off guard, his gaze previously on you.

A small smile laces on his lips and he answers her genuinely. 

“It’s lovely on you, Aera. You look very beautiful.” 

She giggles, looping her arm around his. 

But you can see everything. 

Jungkook’s eyes are tender and warm, fondness radiating out from every fiber of his body. He holds her gently, as if treasuring her was his uttermost priority. 

Your breath hitches, a wave of nausea hitting you. There’s nothing you can mutter except a quiet ‘excuse me’ as you’re racing out of the room, hand clamping against your mouth and feet hurriedly filtering through the venue. 

You don’t even find a bathroom, yanking open the door to a staff closet before you stumble down, tiger flowers bursting out of your lips. Water builds up in your eyes, hand clutching onto your chest as the retching continues, a deep burn being left behind. 

It’s when the flowers slow down, decreasing in volume that you manage to swipe some of the sweat trailing down your temples. Your vision finally focuses through all the tears, small coughs still trembling through your windpipe. 

A small gasp behind you has you freezing. 

Your half-lidded eyes snap back, finding Jungkook's paralyzed ones. A hand is covering his mouth, his voice quivering.

“Oh my god….” 

You don’t have the strength to will your voice to work, barely able to breath in and out with your congested airflow. Jungkook falls to his knees, eyes scanning all over the flowers before flickering up to you. 

“You–” He begins, form frantic. “In here…the f-flowers….” 

His hand plucks up on the tiger flower, perfectly matching the ink on his skin. 

He lets go of the flower and it flutters down to you. His lips move, horror transfixed in his eyes as the realization dawns onto him, hitting him all at once.

“I-I broke you….” 

You sniffle, arm coming up to swipe away the tears that have collected in your eyes. But Jungkook is faster, the pads of his thumbs immediately coming up to cup your face, gently brushing them away.

You look up, gaze locked onto his. And you can see everything. 

He understands – his pain reflecting yours. 

“Jungkook!” He sucks in a breath, head swiveling around to a voice echoing out from the closet. “Where have you been? Everyone’s already taken their seats.” 

“I-I’ll be right there.” He turns to you, but you’re already scooping the flowers up, tucking them into a bag that you found nearby. Jungkook silently joins you, helping you until the closet is completely clear of any trace of them. 

You leave before him, not exchanging one word. 

The wedding commences. 

You have taken your seat at the front, having a full display of the event right before you. Jungkook sits a row behind you, and you’re grateful at not having to be so close to him for the long duration. 

Because as much as you can acknowledge the shared pain you hold – you know that the existence for Jungkook's is why you’re gathered here today, and you know that yours is just sitting a row away.

He will never love you like you do him. Aera will never love him like he does her.

The ceremony begins and you look up, gazing at the couple you’ve come to see tie the knot. The marriage officiant speaks up, going through each and every piece of what will bring them together. Your eyes are focused, but ever so and then, they furrow at Aera.

Not because of envy, but rather, it’s like her eyes are wavering, prodding around in the audience instead.

What is she doing? 

You wonder, only seeing her glance at Sunoo a couple of times or breaking out of her daze to repeat the officiant words. 

It’s almost like she’s focused on–

Your eyes trail, following her field of vision until it lands straight on Jungkook. And you’re even more caught off guard when you find out where his gaze is directed. 

He’s looking at you, eyes not wavering even when you catch him.

You flush at the realization, quickly averting your eyes to focus back onto the couple. Thankfully, it soon draws to an end and the officiant wraps up the ceremony.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Sunoo leans in and Aera smiles, as does the officiant. 

He pronounces them as husband and wife and a big cheer erupts from the guests. Everyone claps – including you and the couple descends down, interacting with those that have attended their wedding.

You take up the opportunity to depart, desperately needing some fresh air and Jungkook catches onto the action.

“Jungkook!” Aera exclaims, leaving Sunoo’s side and looping her arm around his, “Come on! I want a pictur–” 

“Not now, Aera.” He winces with an apologetic smile, feet headed after the direction you’ve left in. Aera watches in complete disbelief, not even hearing Sunoo call out her name. 

His steps are quickened, eyes darting back and forth. He bumps into a couple of guests on the way out, simply giving them a quick smile before he resumes trudging against the tiled floor.

His heart is racing, so much to the point where it feels like it might burst.

Within minutes, he finds your backside on a bench outside near the venue, shoulders hunched and making your form appear smaller than ever.

“Y/N?” He breathes out, slowly walking towards you.

“J-Jungkook?” You swivel, startled that he had followed you out here. 

He stands in front of you, kneeling down. The eye contact makes you flinch, an uncomfortable sensation churning in your chest the longer he looks at you. 

But before you can run away, before you can even search for a place to empty out the flowers threatening to spill from your throat, he leans forward. 

He leans forward, and his lips collide with your own. 

You softly gasp, heat brushing on your cheeks. It feels just like the first time you shared a kiss with him, warmth flooding through you. 

Your trembling hands reach out, tugging him closer. 

He places his own on top of yours, holding them as lips moving fervently against yours. 

You feel it all – the delicate flowers blooming within your chest, the hues of orangish-red coloring your windpipe, the itch to push him away spiking more than ever.

But you part from him with a different reason altogether. 

A sharp breath escapes you, airflow flooding into your lungs. It feels easier to inhale and exhale, no longer feeling like there was something constricting and blocking your windpipe.

As your chest rises and falls sporadically, you stare at Jungkook in astonishment. He mimics the expression you hold, a twinkle beginning to spark in his eyes. 

Almost as if he were experiencing the same thing. 

“I-I can–” 

“Breathe?” He completes with a smile and you slowly nod, tears slipping out of your eyes. 

Jungkook wraps his arms around you comfortingly, his own eyes glossing over as you tremble. The pads of his thumbs come up to cup your face, gently brushing your tears away. 

He rises to his feet, reaching his hand out. You take it within a heartbeat, sniffling as he walks back into the venue with you. 

Your tender gazes occasionally meet, with soft smiles being exchanged. 

A sharp scream pierces through the air.

The two of you whirl around in an instant, noticing Aera's mother stepping out of the room in the frenzy.

“What happened?” You immediately ask, watching the woman’s shake her head frantically. 

She doesn’t answer you, too caught up in her own thoughts, “Oh, it’s terrible, so, so terrible–”

You frown, but Jungkook tugs on you, eyes staring straight into the room that she had left.

Stepping next to him, your eyes transfixed into horror.

Aera stands in the middle of the room, with Sunoo by her side – a plethora of tiger flowers and tulips surrounding the two of them. 

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