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#i can very much see why it's considered a classic
ibrokeeverything · 1 year
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Ed really said, "Hmm... I think these mushrooms are bad, but I better give them to the entire crew, just to be sure," and then proceeds to get the whole bebop gang stoned out of their minds
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whispers-of-gallifrey · 2 months
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Just watched Fury from the Deep and I love Victoria's exit so much it breaks my heart. She's so worn down by their travels always ending up full of danger and death and her always being put in the position of damsel in distress. She really doesn't want to leave jamie and the doctor but she doesn't want that life and I love that it let's her make that choice. And I love that Jamie's concerned she won't be happy living in, what is to them, the future but she acknowledges she's changed too much to go back to Victorian England, and she's highly unlikely to get back there anyway, not without more death and danger. That the doctor changes his mind about slipping away in the night and agrees to stay another day so Victoria can think about her decision properly without feeling as pressured. The fact that she knows the doctor won't say a proper goodbye because that's his way. The way she stands on the beach watching them row out to the tardis, knowing she'll never see either of them again. The fact she doesn't go back to the tardis with them to collect her belongings. Jamie's "I don't care where we go next" because he's miserable that Victoria made that decision. The Doctor's "I was fond of her too, you know" which is the closest he'll get to admitting how much he cares about them all. I just love it
#i just have so many thoughts about her#i love that the story builds to her exit with her saying shes tired of being frightened and asking why they never end up anywhere nice#her exit's similar to tegans in that theyre both worn out and sick of it but i love where tegans exit is impulsive#and very much in the heat of the moment#you see victoria considering it throughout the episode even though she cant bring herself to say it to jamie and the doctor#and yeah i just love that we get to see the travelling take its toll bc when you get down to it she is just a kid who never signed up#for any of this#and where new who companions get breaks between adventures and have lives outside the doctor#classic who companions dont get any of that by virtue of the 'the doctor cant control the tardis' so the doctor and his lifestyle is all#they have#and it goes even more so for victoria bc shes one of the orphaned companions who has nowhere to go back to#(sidenote i was thinking the other day about how many classic companions have nowhere they want to go back to particularly with 1 2 and 5#which fits with the whole 'cant control the tardis so they cant ever go back so we better make companions who dont want to'#idk i just love that so many of the classic exits are companions finding a new home/realising they can do good in this new place#like they can never go back to their old home and they end up with their temporary tardis family until they find somewhere new to call home#and ik we rarely see the outcomes of these decisions so we dont know if they were the right ones but still)#anyway this was about victoria#in conclusion: i love her and her exit#doctor who#victoria waterfield#jamie mccrimmon#second doctor
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lady-grace-pens · 1 year
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I watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s for the first time this morning and I can’t stop thinking about how much I hated it. I can’t figure out why. But I also watched the first part of Barry Lyndon and I’m really into it so there’s that too
Rant in tags because I have thoughts and opinions
#I’m sure it didn’t help how i went into Tiffany’s with a totally different idea of what the story would be#i didn’t see the noncommittal storyline coming. i thought it’d be about a diner or something named Tiffany’s. plus I hate how fast everyone#talks. i mean it makes sense because ‘oh city people talk fast’ but still I can barely understand a thing with or without captions#i also got so damn confused as to of everything before the point where Doc came in.#clearing up her backstory made everything click. but I just feel like a lot of this should’ve been made more clear earlier or something idk#I’m not fond of Holley herself either tbh. Paul is hot tho#then there’s the blatant racism in the movie… yeah#i get it was made in the 60s but oh good god.#i can’t see why this is considered a classic. singing in the rain is MILES BETTER and I only caught half of that one#barry lyndon however. is a charm so far. i really love enjoy and appreciate stories like that.#ones that follow the life of one character. how even before everything goes wrong for him his life still wasn’t an easy road. very lovely#i can’t wait to watch part 2#but honestly fuck Tiffany’s that movie sucks 😂#i feel like the story would be better if Holly herself was the main character instead of just the protagonist. because it’s clear how#the camera focuses on Paul like this is his story to tell. it should be hers#better yet#go watch Singing in the Rain instead#such a damn charm. i love Cosmo so much#kaitlyn talks for once
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mrwavellswaps · 4 months
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Step-Bro Switch Up! (Re-Upload)
Instead of a new story this week I’ve decided to re-upload an old favourite instead. As some of you may or may not know, the original version was completely wiped from the surface of the internet by Tumblr to the point where there wasn’t even a trace of its existence. I wasn’t even notified of this when it happened which feels like it’s own separate issue considering it was my biggest ever story but I digress. I thought that now might be the appropriate time to re-unleash this story upon the world and allow those who loved the original to enjoy it once again and for those who never got a chance to read the original to discover it for the first time. That said I’m hoping to come out with some new and fresh content very soon but in the meantime I hope you all enjoy this return of an old classic!
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I found myself waking up at 6:30am in the morning which was rather unusual for me but not so much for my body. I soon realised why though as a low rumble came from my stomach. With a sigh I slid out of bed, trying not to wake the other sleeping jock beside me in the process. I didn’t even bother putting on underwear, instead walking to the kitchen buck naked.
I waltzed up to the fridge, opening it up before pulling out a carton of juice. After taking a few huge gulps I lick my lips and let out a deep belch. Next thing I’m rummaging through to see what I can make for breakfast. Had to make sure I kept this big body fed after all. Can’t let all my step-brother’s hard work go to waste. Confused? Well let me start at the beginning…
———
A few years back not long after I turned 20 my mom met a guy named Devin who she soon started dating. Pretty big guy with a bearish ex-jock physique. He was 45 at the time so a similar age to my mom and they seemed to get along great. I certainly didn’t mind having some extra dilf eye candy around the house every now and then. I soon learned however that Devin was also a single Dad with a 22 year old son which certainly peaked my interest.
When I first met him I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. He introduced himself as Sam but I was almost too hypnotised by his looks to notice. He was the perfect image of a star college jock with enormous well rounded muscles that bulged under his clothes while standing at an imposing 6’3, practically dwarfing my lean 5’8 frame. And of course he was devilishly handsome too because the hot body wasn’t already enough, even having a great full beard that I was jealous of. I even remember how I had to hide my pulsing boner after he pulled me in for a quick bro hug, his manly scent getting caught in my nostrils.
After that Sam became a frequent part of my jerk off fantasies. Could you blame me? Not only was he the epitome of masculinity but my god did he have an incredible ass. Whenever Sam had his back turned I couldn’t help but have my eyes glued to those massive globes, no doubt stretching whatever pants he was wearing. Honestly I felt truly blessed to be able to spend time around such a man.
Anyway fast forward about two years and my mom had already gotten married to Devin. It was an amazing ceremony but for half of it all I could think about was how me and Sam were now Step-Brothers. We were truly intertwined now. I didn’t think the idea of that would turn me on as much as it did. That fucking hunk, my brother.
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Shortly after the wedding however, the roommate Sam had been sharing an apartment with decided to move out and live with his new partner. At first Sam had been considering downsizing to a smaller apartment but when he brought this up I knew this was my chance. I pounced on the opportunity and told him I’d been thinking of moving out for awhile and that it’d be cool to spend some more time with my new brother if he was down for that. To my excitement he actually accepted and the next thing I know I’m moving my stuff out of my moms house and into Sam’s apartment. I was surprised at how clean it all was for the most part. Then again Sam wasn’t your typical dumb jock either, he always seemed very mature and put together.
The two of us got on pretty well living together. We tried to respect each other’s space and chatted a lot as good friends. Luckily I did well to hide my excitement whenever I saw him walking around shirtless, showing off his huge hairy chest, or god forbid only a pair of tight boxer briefs. The day I first saw that was the day I nearly creamed myself on the spot. Oh and while I respected his space when he was around, whenever I was home alone I couldn’t help but give into the devil on my shoulder before rummaging through his room. I tried not to take anything but every time without fail I’d sift through his dirty laundry, pulling out whatever sweaty clothes I could find and relishing in the smell.
For about 6 months that’s how my life was. Living under the same roof as my hot step-bro while trying not to let him see my dirty secret. That is until I found a certain little spell online. Pretty much I’d been searching up some fetishy body swapping stuff online and ended up stumbling across some weird body swapping ritual. Of course I didn’t believe it but the masses of comments on the page claiming it to have worked peaked my interest.
Next thing I know I’m up in the middle of the night waiting until I was certain that Sam was asleep before sneaking into his room. It didn’t take long for me to find the pair of yellow underwear he’d had on that day, giving it a quick sniff before stuffing it in my pocket and retreating back to my room. Once there I was able to start the ritual. I placed the underwear in the middle of a circle I’d drawn on the floor surrounded by candles before chanting some magical phrases that were supposed to enchant them. I can’t tell you how stupid I felt at that moment but I continued on anyway, finishing everything I needed to say before grabbing the underwear again. At that point all I had to do was wear it.
I yanked on Sam’s ‘enchanted’ yellow briefs with the hope that my wish would come true but as I’d expected, nothing happened. With a sigh I cleaned up the mess I’d made with this ritual stuff, feeling like an idiot as I did before heading to bed. I decided to keep Sam’s oversized briefs on though because just wearing them was making me hard even if I was still myself. I remember I’d begun to jack off in them, imagining how hot it’d be to see him wearing them after I’d stained them with my cum. That is until a wave of tiredness swelled across my body and before I knew it I was fast asleep.
It seems I must’ve underestimated that ritual because overnight something truly magical took place. When I awoke I already knew something was off when I noticed my feet hanging off the edge of my bed. I sat up in confusion only to feel much heavier than normal while looking down the bed to see a pair of much larger feet. Next thing I yank off my bed sheets only to find a massive, hairy, muscular body that certainly wasn’t my own.
Right away I was running my hands along the ridges of my abs before grasping the heft of my giant new pecs, loving all the fur as I was previously rather hairless. Jumping out of bed I was quick to discover that my lower body was just as hairy and impressive with huge quads, and impressive calves. And then it started to hit me. I didn’t realise it at first as I’d never seen it from this angle but these giant legs, these bulging arms, these bulbous pecs… they all seemed exactly like Sam’s! I was even still wearing his briefs which now clung tightly to my form as I didn’t fail to notice the familiar bulge in the front. Only… it was my bulge!
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At that moment I knew what must’ve happened but my rational mind pleaded that it was impossible. Still I burst out of my room and made a beeline for the bathroom and what I saw in the mirror made me want to cheer, shout and most of all cream my new underwear. I saw none other than the sexy bearded face of my step-brother staring back in disbelief.
As you can imagine I spent the next 20 or so minutes inspecting every inch of my new muscle bound body. I did all sorts of poses to show off my physique in every way, pulled different kinds of weird faces in the mirror, relished in rubbing my hands through the full beard I was never able to grow before. Having the body I’d been lusting over for these past years at my disposal felt like some kind of lucid wet dream. But it was real! From my brother’s handsome face, to his giant muscle ass, to even his fat cock! All mine!
Soon enough I’d yanked off the underwear and started pumping my dick in ecstasy, loving how my hand only just fit the whole way around. Waves of pleasure cascading across my new body as I used my free hand to grope at my hairy pecs, the deep groans I let out only making me hornier. Before I could shoot my new seed however, I heard a scream come from what I can only guess was Sam’s room. Up until now I hadn’t even thought about the real him but judging by that scream I had only one guess as to what’d happened.
Instead of slipping the boxer briefs back on I decided to grab a towel instead and wrap it around my waist. I didn’t want him to think something was up to see me already wearing his clothes after all. With that I turned to the mirror one last time, scanning my face and upper body again with wonder. I still couldn’t get over it.
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Upon entering Sam’s room I was somewhat surprised to see an exact copy of myself stood freaking out at his body. I should’ve been expecting it but it was still extremely weird nonetheless. Then, as he saw me stood in the doorway, he went silent. Naturally he was in shock for a good moment or two but as soon as it passed he began shouting a bunch obscenities at me. Demanding who the fuck I was and how I looked like him. He even tried to punch me which I’ll be honest wasn’t all that scary considering I was now twice his size.
Right then I knew I had a few ways I could go about this. I could admit that I caused this to happen, I could tell him that I had no clue how any of it happened, or even pretend to be completely oblivious and act as if I was really Sam. The horny devil on my shoulder told me to rub it in his face that I now had his irresistible jock body and that he was stuck with my unathletic one but I couldn’t. Sure we weren’t super close or anything but he was always friendly towards me and was never a dickhead so I decided to take it easy on him.
I pretended to be just as confused as he was, saying who I really was but not having any idea how this happened. I think I was pretty convincing. We ended up sitting in his room and discussing it for what felt like hours, going over everything that happened last night as Sam tried to comprehend the situation. Of course he only went on and on about finding a way to fix this and I had to pretend as if I cared, trying not to get distracted by my own body. In fact there were multiple points where I had to keep hiding the tent starting to grow under my towel because of how hot it was to look down and see a shelf of muscle sitting on my chest.
Eventually I was able to convince him that we weren’t going to figure this out any time soon so we had to start thinking about how we were going to live each overs lives. As you can imagine he wasn’t all that fond of this idea, protesting it at first but eventually came to see reason. I suggested we should start discussing all the important details we’d need to know but before that I wanted to get some actual clothes on. I had to try not to grin while telling him to get out of my room while I changed. Though I couldn’t help dropping the towel just before he left and showing off the meaty cock and impressive ass he used to have. I caught him glancing back with a look of envy, the very same look I used to give.
Of course getting dressed in Sam’s clothes was an erotic experience in itself. All of these large shirts, pants, briefs and socks that would’ve swamped my former body now fitting me perfectly. I must’ve spent at least 15 minutes or so just trying on different clothes while jerking my cock a little in between until I heard a knock at the door and my former voice asking what the hell was taking so long. With a sigh I tucked my new toy away and waltzed out in what I was currently wearing. A pair of well fitting black shorts and a large pair of black and white socks. I didn’t bother grabbing a shirt since I just couldn’t help but show off this bod. Could you blame me?
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When he asked what I’d been doing I simply said I was trying on clothes. He knew there was more to it than that but decided he didn’t really wanna know. Instead we opted to both take a seat in the living room and start discussing things. I told him everything he needed to know about my retail job, which wasn’t a whole lot to be honest, as well as my friend group and what my daily routine was like. Afterwards Sam begrudgingly did the same for me, telling me all about his part time job as a fitness instructor at the local gym and that if we were stuck like this then I’m gonna need to learn how all gym equipment works and fast. He also gave me some inside info on his own friend group as well as walking me through what his football practice is like with the team. Part of me was worried hearing all this as I was beginning to wonder if I could really pull off being Sam but at the same time I was excited beyond belief to get into these social situations and convince people of the new me.
Thankfully it was Sunday so neither of us had a whole lot going on that day which gave us plenty of time to think and adjust without stressing. I spent most of it half naked and I loved catching glimpses of Sam glancing at his former body as I showed it off, even getting a little cocky by flexing every now and then which he didn’t appreciate all that much. Honestly I was surprised at how hungry I was as well and just how much I was able to eat. I mean I guess it made sense since a body this big needs a lot of fuel. Sam helped me a little with my meals though, making sure there was a bunch of protein and healthy calories to make sure I was feeding his body correctly. Later that day he also got me to head out for some cardio which I wasn’t too thrilled about at first but I actually kinda enjoyed it once I got running. I especially enjoyed my new sweaty scent that produced during it, not being able to help sniffing my pits when I got back. Of course Sam told me to go get a shower but before I did I couldn’t help swiftly grabbing him and shoving his face into my musky pits, laughing as he squirmed for a moment before letting him go. I apologised after through my laughter though I couldn’t help but smirk subtly as despite his face looking disgusted, the slight bulge in his pants told another story.
The next day however was when the real challenge started. After breakfast Sam gave me a list of what exercises to do at the gym. I’ll be honest I didn’t know half of them and had to look them up on the way. That walk to the gym however was the first time I noticed the difference in my interactions. Before people wouldn’t pay much mind to me but now as I passed people on the street I’d get some smiling and glancing at me, some giving me an envious once over, others even saying hi to me in a bit of a flirty way. Mostly from girls which even though I was gay I still enjoyed the flattery. Once I was at the gym though, I was in the zone. It’s weird but it was like muscle memory took over. I performed each and every exercise perfectly while loving the pump I was getting. Once again I was having to hide my boner at many points since I couldn’t help but get off to how fucking strong I was now. It did and still does feel absolutely incredible!
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Later that day I headed to Sam’s usual football practice with a bunch of his jock friends. Initially I was worried I wouldn’t fit in but I somehow found myself easily slotting into the jockbro mindset and was soon laughing and joking with the boys. It was the same when we started playing, right away it was like my body just moved on its own, knowing exactly what to do and how to play. It was then that I realised I must’ve somehow absorbed a lot of Sam’s skill, know-how and personality when I took his form and I was gradually unlocking it all by putting myself in these situations. Although I don’t think I was playing as well as Sam usually does, not because of a lack of skill but because I was constantly distracted watching all those jock butt’s and bulges squeezed into those football uniforms. Surely at least one of them had to be gay right?
After getting home I found Sam sat on his laptop looking up all sorts of body swapping theory stuff. Of course most of it was fake but he was clearly desperate to get his body back. Sure there might be an off chance he could find the site I used but that a one way transfer according to the spell. Knowing this I told him to not get his hopes up and to just try and make use of the hands we’ve been dealt. As you can imagine he didn’t take that very well at the time.
From then onwards though, I’d say things were pretty easy. I easily convinced my new dad and former mom, now step-mom that I was their good ol hairy jock of a son. I was able to pull off being a fitness instructor with relative ease after going around the gym and using each piece of the equipment to trigger the memories of how to use it properly. I’d convinced all of Sam’s friends inside and outside of the football team that I was him. I’ll say that it took me awhile to fully get used to hearing my new name but whenever I did it was like music to my ears.
I’ve gotta say though, living with the former Sam was more fun than I thought it’d be. I figured it would’ve been weird initially after the switch and that we’d have to go our separate ways but even after just over a week of being Sam I was having so much fun messing with him. For example I almost never wore a shirt around the house, always showing of my huge hairy pecs and whenever I’d catching him staring I’d give a little pec bounce until he looked away in annoyance. I’d frequently pull him in for ‘brohugs’ where I’d either squish him against my chest or trap him under one of my pits until I saw him getting a semi. He’d alway deny having one though which is why I decided to set up a fun little experiment.
Turns out that Ian, one of the other jocks on the football team, was in-fact gay. Wasn’t hard to decipher after noticing his frequent glances at my ass in locker room, not that I can blame him, and how much he blushed when I gave his jock butt a slap after practice. Next thing you know we’re making out under the locker room showers while groping up each overs bodies. It was insane since before I would’ve considered Ian to be light years out of my league but now I had him on his knees with his lips wrapped around my shaft to which I then soon returned the favour. It was here that I got my experiment idea.
Yesterday after practice, I pulled Ian aside and asked him to come back to my place. He was quick to agree and before you know it we were stumbling into mine and Sam’s shared apartment. My former body jumped up off the couch and asked what Ian was doing here. ‘To have some fun’ I believe my response was being making out with Ian in front of him and dragging the other jock back towards Sam’s-well my bedroom. As Ian and I stumbled onto the bed, kissing along each overs bodies as we slowly undressed, I made sure to leave the door open just a crack.
One thing lead to another and before long Ian had his face buried into a pillow as I buried my cock in his ass and I made no attempt to be subtle about, groaning and grunting and my balls smacked against that supple butt. Throughout our amazing fuck session I made sure to keep glancing back at the door and finally I caught exactly what I was waiting for. I saw none other than Sam peeking through the crack in the door and lightly tugging at my former dick. That was all the confirmation I needed that my little bro was just as much of a homo as I was no matter how much he wanted to deny it.
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And that more or less brings us up to the present, waking up early in the morning with Ian fast asleep beside me and being called into the kitchen by my growling stomach. As I searched through the fridge to see what else I could find to satisfy my hunger, I heard a cough coming from behind. Whipping my head around I saw none other than Sam with a judgmental look on his face.
“Don’t gimme that look, you’ve seen all this before.” I say, shaking my hairy ass a little before flexing. Sam rolled his eyes. “No no no don’t act like you don’t love seeing me show off your body, I saw you peeking in on me and Ian last night.”
Sam’s face went bright red. “W-w-what? N-no I didn’t!”
Immediately I shushed him, not wanting to wake Ian before stepping closer. “Oh come on don’t lie, I know you jacked off to it. So what was your favourite bit? The part when you got to see me using your body to pound into another buff dude and fill his ass with your cum? Or the part where you watched Ian totally dominate me afterwards and go to town on your former hairy bubble ass?” By this point Sam was completely speechless knowing that he’d been caught.
With that I lifted up an arm, exposing one of my pits to him but this time I didn’t shove him in it. “Go on, you know you want to. You can try and hide it all you want but you love seeing me show off your body, you love watching me adopt all your little habits, you love watching me slip perfectly into you jocky lifestyle. Just embrace it lil’ bro” He stares at me then at my pit. I could see it in his eyes. Pure lust. And then just as I’d hoped, he gave in to it. I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear as he voluntarily presses his nose into my pit, huffing my musk like a drug. I was even more surprised when he pulled away and immediately dropped to his knees, drooling at the sight of his former cock.
“C…can I suck it?” He asked while grasping it gently in his hand.
“Only if you agree to only address me as Sam from now on, even when we’re alone.” I state looking down at his hungry eyes. He nods in compliance and with that I put a hand on the back of his head and press him down onto my dick, letting him slobber all over it. “But don’t get too used to this. I’m planning on making Ian my boyfriend in the future and I wanna be faithful ya know. So enjoy it while it lasts.”
With that everything has finally fallen into place. The old Sam has finally accepted our new roles, I’ve assumed my new identity perfectly and I might even have a hot new boyfriend soon. My life couldn’t be anymore perfect right now…
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1uvtae · 2 months
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i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook
★ word count: 10k- yay!
★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!
★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.
★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!
enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??
do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!
this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.
you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.
but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)
this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 
when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.
blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 
you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!
you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. plus, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.
he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 
but on the other hand…
he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.
you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.
oh, the long, dark night.
after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.
when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 
thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 
thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 
after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 
you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 
once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.
on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.
you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 
your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 
after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 
continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”
you moved, or did you come back?
just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 
did he quit his job?
“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 
although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.
yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”
you: i think i saw him recently
you: he’s still so fine 
yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week
you: yes please, i’m free every night this week
yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.
you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?
yerin: i know you way too well
yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner
you: hm
yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.
you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.
to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.
huh? be prepared for what?
when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.
you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 
yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 
you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”
(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)
you hope it’s not the second option.
the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.
“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 
you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 
you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.
the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.
after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.
that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.
after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.
taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.
yerin: jungkook’s here
you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 
y/n: huh? why is he there?
yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours
yerin: u coming?
you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.
yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering
hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-
yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him
yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged
yerin: not his gf
yerin: u still have a chance yk!!
you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 
just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.
having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.
oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 
but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?
every cloud has a silver lining.
and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”
yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”
he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.
all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.
judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.
jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.
you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”
he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.
jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 
the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.
jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 
he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 
jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.
he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!
you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 
it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.
he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.
even bring able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.
jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.
by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.
he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”
your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.
jungkook: “y/n?”
his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.
jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.
and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.
this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.
he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!
but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 
he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.
considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 
you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 
the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.
jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 
honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.
painful, very painful.
it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 
jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 
you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 
if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.
but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 
and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.
this can be a fun game to play.
you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.
you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 
jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 
if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?
after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 
his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 
you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 
feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”
not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 
wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.
you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.
although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.
y/n: can i pick bam up from yours
he replied almost instantly: you are?
you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n
then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”
you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 
but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.
the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)
jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 
it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 
he’s literally hooked for you.
he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 
after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”
you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 
jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 
you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 
you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”
“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”
you nodded your head. “sure.”
“...do you want to those off then?”
“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.
it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 
jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 
you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”
you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”
“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 
you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 
your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?
but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 
your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”
you like the sound of that.
this is something you could get used to.
jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.
you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 
after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 
after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”
jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.
you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want
jungkook: ……i’m not that gross
as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.
as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.
you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 
your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.
no answer. 
you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”
“are you not at home?” 
he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”
you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 
“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”
you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”
the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 
he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.
bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.
it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 
he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.
you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 
instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 
after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 
the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.
you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.
“but it’s itchy.”
“patient.”
you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.
jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 
you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 
“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 
when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 
you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 
you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 
plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.
talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. plus, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.
you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.
the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.
yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.
arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.
you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.
you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.
yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 
out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 
still no acknowledgement from him.
finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.
the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 
you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.
as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”
the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.
jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.
when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 
you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”
yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”
you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”
yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”
“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”
you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.
the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.
he responded with a boyish smile.
and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.
driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 
an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.
this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.
when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.
you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.
jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.
eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.
you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.
right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 
jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.
but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 
he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.
you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 
…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”
carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.
he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 
jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.
but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 
jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”
“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”
jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 
a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”
in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.
you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.
after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”
he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”
you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 
in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.
“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 
“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”
“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.
jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 
it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.
if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t. he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 
“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”
jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 
he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”
“yeah.”
jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 
“what now?”
you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”
looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 
“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.
“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.
but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her blatantly the first night he drove her home. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act to piss you off. 
you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”
after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.
“one won’t be enough.”
“give me an amount then.”
“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.
jungkook will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.
his other hand reached for your earlobe.
after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 
you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 
it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!
occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.
but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 
one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”
“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”
“right.”
“i think i want to talk some things out.”
thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 
“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 
at least, this time it's in person, right?
he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 
“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”
was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.
“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”
you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.
the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 
to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 
you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 
“that was all my honest words!!!”
“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 
it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.
his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 
“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”
“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.
jungkook smirks against your neck, 
way, way more. (end)
here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!
and until next time, kae.
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Honestly? So much of Sonic Prime happens the way it does because Sonic is unabashedly, wholeheartedly neurodivergent, and I wanna talk about that in detail for several reasons
I think most people assume he has ADHD, and while I agree, I think they tend to leave it at "he's hyperactive and impulsive" when there's actually a lot more going on there.
For example, he lacks a filter. He says exactly what he's thinking, all the time, regardless of who's listening. I wouldn't be surprised if he does it as a type of vocal stim, considering that he talks to himself as much as he does to other people. Maybe he dislikes the way silence feels on his ears, too?
Something I noticed was that when Thorn gets on his case for this, asking if he ever stops talking, the way he says "eh, not really" sounds... almost resigned?
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He could have easily said it in a more jokey way, but his tone (and the wide camera shot) gives me the impression that this isn't a trait of his that he feels especially positive about.
It's not cool or funny to him, at least not in this instance; it's just something he does, which further proves to me that it's more of an unconscious stim than anything else.
On the topic of the jungle world though, it also shows us a couple instances of him not being able to read others' intentions very well. Prim lies to him about knowing what the Prism shard is, and Thorn uses him to get to said shard - and despite how hostile they are, he takes both of them at their word.
He only realizes Thorn's intentions after she hits him across the clearing - not for the first time that day, mind you - and Sonic berates himself a little for not seeing this coming.
But it's not like this is the only time he has difficulty understanding intent; just look at his interactions with Shadow.
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This is not the behavior of someone who understands why Shadow's picking a fight with him. He doesn't understand the implications of "you literally shook the world" because he doesn't know about the Weirder aspects of the explosion. In his mind, he just messed up a mountain.
Though I think his attitude implies another thing about his dynamic with Shadow that might explain why he was so quick to dismiss what he was talking about, which is. I don't think Sonic usually understands why they fight??
Shadow is a person of few words and Sonic has a hard time picking up on subtleties, that's a recipe for miscommunication already. And if Sonic's already predisposed to thinking that Shadow fights him Just Because, then of course he didn't take this particular instance seriously.
Though going back to "he only registered the physical effect of the explosion," Sonic is actually pretty consistent with understanding things that are tangible a lot better than anything else. Case in point: that One Palm Tree
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His first reaction to seeing it presented as a gift is that it must be a trick. because he doesn't see the tangible point of the tree, and isn't enough of a symbolism guy to see the sentimental point of it, either.
Don't get me wrong, he is being insensitive here, but I don't think it's on purpose in any way. Look at his body language and expressions:
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Even as he's getting on their case for being too sentimental, he's not unhappy or uncomfortable with them. He's just completely failing to recognize that this was supposed to be a big deal for them, so he's treating it way more casually than is appropriate.
Which is like. a classic social flub for neurodivergent folks
(Quick side note - this specific "huh" that he makes as Tails is flying away before Sonic realizes he's upset is a whole mood. I don't know how to explain it but this is Exactly what it feels like when you can sorta tell something's not clicking but you don't know what yet)
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(Look at him. brain static)
I could go on with the detailed explanations but some of that would just be me repeating past posts I've made, so I'll leave it at "he is clearly not handling change well either" and link back to an example.
So anyway, this is what I meant when I said that so much of the show is impacted by Sonic being neurodivergent. It affects how we hear his thoughts as viewers, it affects his ability to understand and connect with his friends, it's why he dismisses Shadow, it's why he impulsively smashes the Paradox Prism, the list goes on.
And he's not stupid because of any of these traits, either. None of what I've described has to do with intelligence, but I've seen "Sonic is too dumb" as a reason to criticize the show, and that's just not what's happening here.
If anything, I'm actually really impressed with how well the writers have managed to portray a more nuanced take on what a character with ADHD would look like. Because he's not just being hyperactive and chatty, you can tell it affects how he perceives things too.
Which is a much bigger part of the overall experience, and it's really cool to see in a cartoon like this - and in the lovable main character, to boot! Who cherishes his friends despite his struggles to understand them! Why is it so good!
In conclusion Sonic is the ADHD king we both needed and deserved, thanks for coming to my TED talk
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autistichalsin · 2 months
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Halsin's autism coding really jumps out in his camp confession scene
Both the romantic and platonic one. Starting with the romantic one:
He thinks asking about his past lovers is a sign of interest (I notice a lot of autistic folks like us tend to never get it "right"- when we guess that someone might be interested because of cues we were told were romantic, we get it wrong, whereas when someone is showing certain cues, we think it's just friendly!)
The way he feels the need to explain why he thinks you're interested in him before you accept or reject. This one isn't explicitly explained, of course, but it is very easy to read it as an autistic person afraid of being harshly rejected/told they're insane to think there was a connection, so he puts out an explanation first in the hopes of softening the blow if he turned out to be wrong.
Halsin completely, and adorably, misinterprets the player if they tell him "maybe your heart stirs easier than you think"; he doesn't understand that the player is partially slut-shaming him (which is rude af on the player's end, but he misses this because he's honestly un-slutshamable, so he would never be offended here) and partially asking for clarification- how can you have had many lovers yet your heart doesn't stir easily? Not understanding this, Halsin goes on to tell stories of his past exploits, which are hot and very welcome, but also very much not what the player as getting at.
If the player is an absolute asshole and mocks him by comparing him to a deep rothe, he is crushed, but stays calm, simply telling them that they could have just said no- he doesn't call the player a jerk like they deserved. Just feels very true to the 'tism experience.
This line alone could stand as proof, I think: "Nature gifted us our desires, and the means to act on them. But we muddied its beautiful simplicity with rules, social strictures... clothes." He hates social structures for their complexity, and prefers something simpler. The dislike of social structures, of their nebulous nature, is a core autistic experience.
If the player says they only helped because he's a useful ally, he once again misreads; he misses that the statement was a rejection, and responds earnestly that he sees them as much more than an ally.
For the new platonic path:
If the player tells him they just want him to carry heavy things for them, he responds differently based on his approval levels to them (I.E. based on how close they are and how kind he feels the player is); at low approval, he is deeply hurt by this, and sadly muses that "perhaps not all friendships are destined to be balanced and reciprocal." Yet... he still considers it a friendship, even though that is in practice no friendship at all. A lot of autistic folks have this experience of being friends with people who don't share the same level of affection, or even outright mistreat, us.
In fact, the same thing happens in another variation: if the player snarks about Halsin inviting himself along (a way of saying "get lost"), he laughs and warmly says that he guesses he did invite himself along, and that he will be "more tactful when trying to make friends in future." Declaring oneself friends with others is such a classic autistic experience, but even MORE so is declaring yourself friends with someone who only tolerates, or even actively dislikes, you. It's quite sad- but also very endearing, because I feel so SEEN in that moment.
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR SIXTEEN
in which you and eddie take some time to figure each other out in the afterglow of honesty.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 2.7k+
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
16:00 ──────────ㅇ───── 24:00
HOUR SIXTEEN - 7:00 AM
Eddie’s favorite color is red. He likes his coffee with an obscene amount of sugar and creamer, which always leads to a regrettable stomach ache. He learned to play guitar on an acoustic six string handed down to him by his uncle, and he’s completely self taught beyond what his uncle taught him about basic notes. And his uncle’s name is Wayne. He refers to the man that raised him as Uncle Wayne. 
Honesty turns out to be quite the beautiful thing in the morning light, and for the first time, you feel as though you’re truly getting to know Eddie. 
It’s a give and take, an even exchange of bits and pieces of each other that are handed over without much thought. You finally have a clearer picture of the man you’ve spent the last fifteen hours straight with. A full photograph in time of who he is, who he really is, in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to fathom a week before. And it’s ironic, looking back on your relationship’s progression with him, the way you two keep skipping over steps before retracing to what was missed. How ironic you’ve let him see you at your most primal and vulnerable, but you’ve just learned his favorite color. 
Eddie Munson isn’t a dick. He’s kind, he’s a huge goddamn nerd, he can be funny sometimes, his favorite color is red, but he isn’t a dick as you’ve been led to believe he was this last year. 
Well, maybe led isn’t the right word. Everyone told you he wasn’t a dick. You just never listened. 
Eddie’s just revealed his favorite movie genre as horror when you’re leaning forward, elbows pressing into your thighs as you ask him with a grin, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 
“Very funny reference,” he deadpans, barely keeping his face straight as he jokingly narrows his eyes, “Especially considering it’s the Scream franchise.”
 You still haven’t brought up that question of why exactly he fought for your honor after that fight. His grand reveal left you with more confusion than you ever could have anticipated, and more than this fragile friendship could handle this early in the morning. So you’d buried it down, somewhere deep inside, for the sake of the friendship.
“You can’t just say an entire franchise. Pick a favorite one, idiot.” 
Friendship. Was that what this was? When was the last time one of your friends had seen you naked, or ate you out atop a kitchen counter? 
“The first one. You can’t beat the classic.” 
You fight your smile in a similar fashion that he is. Mirroring joy, mirroring surprise, “You’re definitely only saying that for the whole homoerotic friendship between Stu and Billy.” 
“Oh, I definitely am,” he doesn’t even try to deny it as he cracks and laughs softly, “What about you?”
Even after nearly an hour of doing this, going back and forth and learning about each other, the novelty of Eddie genuinely asking you things about yourself hasn’t worn off. The curiosity that lights in his eyes, the way he leans into you to hear each word clearly – it makes you question if this was the same man who had once been so cruel. 
“My favorite scary movie? I… don’t have one,” you lean back into your chair, a small huff of air escaping you from impact. 
There’s two mugs of coffee on the small garden table between your chairs, having gone cold long since Eddie retrieved them for the two of you. That had been when he’d earnestly told you about his coffee preference – he’d been sweetly shy about the ordeal, bashful as he looked down at the mugs and informed you he’d tried to only put a normal amount of cream in yours, only a little bit of sugar. It had been so endearing, the way that when you asked what he meant by normal and he’d only murmured his confession of how he took his morning caffeine over the mug’s lip, you nearly caved into yourself. 
“That’s impossible. No way. Absolutely not,” Eddie is animated as he waves his hands around wildly in front of him, shaking his head furiously at your answer, “I refuse to believe you don’t have a favorite scary movie, especially considering you quoted an iconic franchise. If you can quote Scream, you can tell me what your favorite is-”
You interrupt him with laughter, scrunching up your face, “Okay, first of all- Eddie, hey,” he’s still rambling, still being terribly dramatic in the flailing of his arms, so you reach over to grip the forearm closest to you. All his movements immediately cease as his eyes widen, staring directly at you in an oddity of shock, “First of all, it’s just common knowledge of pop culture. I’ve never even seen those movies,” you’re not sure if Eddie is breathing as your hand remains still tightly clasped against his forearm, and you’re not sure why he wouldn’t be, “Second of all, I’m a wimp. Scary movies might be my least favorite kind of movie, right behind apocalyptic action movies.” 
When he takes a sudden deep breath, you realize he had been holding his breath, “Apocalyptic action movies?” 
You begin to explain, to list examples, and you never once take your hand off his arms. You rattle off a list – 2012, The Day After Tomorrow, San Andrea’s Fault, etc. – all the while feeling his pulse race beneath his warm skin. All the while selfishly enjoying the contact, wondering how long it might take staying like this before your fingertips would mold to him. Maybe they’d eventually melt into his arm, skin molten together so that where he ends and where you begin is impossible to distinguish. A closeness with him that you had never craved so ardently before tonight, before today. 
“So, doomsday movies,” he hums after you give your examples. If you were smart, you’d let go of him. It’s been too long for the contact to be brushed off as normal, “Does that mean you also hate zombie movies?” 
“Nope. Those are an entirely different thing.”
“I wouldn’t say they’re entirely different.” 
“They are. They’re completely unrealistic! San Andrea’s Fault… sort of… well, it could happen.” 
“They’re not completely unrealistic. Some of them almost have, like, legit science behind them.” 
You hadn’t even noticed that he scooted his chair closer. Or the slip of his arm in your loosening grasp, leading your hand until it rests against his wrist, so close to holding onto his own hand that rests palm up against his thigh in wait. 
An offering. 
“There is no logical way that one day, our world is going to turn into a real-life Walking Dead situation,” you say, trying to steady your breathing. 
You won’t make the first move. 
He’s leading this moment. If he wants to hold your hand, then he can take that final leap of faith. 
“Have you actually seen The Walking Dead, or are you just blindly making pop culture references again?” 
You can feel the thrill of his heartbeat pick up in the center of his wrist before he does it. With subtle movements, his wrist slips between your fingertips. 
Only for them to be recaptured by his own knuckles. The dust settles. The warmth spreads. Your palm is pressed to his palm, your fingers interlocked between his fingers. 
“I have seen that one,” you tell him quietly, looking down at your conjoined hands. His eyes are also downcast to them. The tendon in his wrist flexes as he tightens his grip on your hand, the small squeeze becoming more sure. It’s not an accident; this was never an accident. 
It’s in the hair you notice on his forearm, wispy and blonde and almost comical in contrast to the dark curls that grow from his scalp. A layer of fuzz that covers alabaster skin dotted in rare and faded freckles, nearly invisible unless you look closely enough. You can see the tan line across his wrist from where he would normally wear a watch. If you follow the details further up his arm, away from the wrist now awkwardly pressed against yours in a twist, you can see the faded blue-black ink of his tattoos. That flock of bats, the most faded of his numerous additions to his skin, taunts you. You’ve already known him up close and personal in the last few hours, felt him flush against you and memorized the way his body was capable of pressing into yours, but it’s in these details that the ache arises. The sadness that you’ve never known him quite this personally before this moment, and the fear that you never will again. 
An ache all because he’s let you close enough to learn the details of his skin – what a marvelous thing. 
“That’s a miracle,” he mutters, fully entranced as he rubs the pad of his thumb across the top of your fingers. You’re quick to return the motion; his knuckles are far more rough than yours, and you try to count the groves in them, from long weeks no doubt, all in that brief swipe, “Or else I would have had to have insisted upon ending this lovely honesty hour, and subjecting you to a marathon.” 
“We can still have a marathon.” 
You’d do just about anything to remain in this position, to stay this impossibly close to him. You’re selfish and you’re clingy, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter as he had done to you, as if the grip on it reflects your grip on the moment. You can’t let it go – you can’t let him go. 
No matter how you have had him, no matter how long he sits in this golden hour with his hand in yours, it will never be enough. This sudden and abruptly-arriving ache is incurable. 
You want him, you need him, you bloom for him. 
There’s something in his smirk as he awkwardly uses his freehand to bring his mug of too-sweet coffee to his lips that almost whispers that there’s a chance: he also wants you, he also needs you, he also blooms for you.
 And so you tell him about yourself in turn. You don’t just stop at your distaste for horror or your fear of doomsday movies. You tell him how you don’t have a favorite color, how you switch it up too often and all he can do is chuckle at your indecisiveness. Once, an insecurity – now something silly to find amusement in at his side. You reveal to him your coffee preference; you take it with a normal amount of cream and just a little bit of sugar. You don’t reveal to him that before today, you’d always turned your nose up to hot coffee, an iced coffee connoisseur. Something in the sparkle of his eyes warns that he might already know. You don’t play any instruments, but you have a list of songs for him to learn, insisting that someday he’d have to play them for you on that guitar his Uncle Wayne gave him. (You can’t think too much on the way you’re once more speaking in some days with him. Your heart might burst if you do.)
You try to bare your soul, to stare down the barrel of honesty, just as he had. It’s scarier than you could have imagined. Finally, after fifteen hours, you get it. 
You get it, and it only makes you squeeze his hand tighter. 
At some point, he notices the way the sun is warming both of you with each passing minute, palms now sweaty against each other as he asks, “Do you want to go back inside?” 
No. I want to live in this moment for the rest of my days. “We can if you want to.” 
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” 
“Tell me what you want. You constantly do that with everyone else, you know. Let them make the decisions,” he’s smiling softly, eyes squinted against the sun now rising high in the sky, “I can’t even count the amount of times you’ve said that to Nancy on both hands. Which, I mean, awesome – Nance fuckin’ loves being the decision-maker. But we’re talking about me. You’ve never been shy about butting heads with me.”
You raise your eyebrows, “Quite the sudden high horse, Mr. Honesty.” 
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Well, it’s honesty hour. So, here’s more honesty – I love when you give me a run for my money. Who else is going to tell me to shut the fuck up when I’m on track to ramble for hours about Lord of the Rings?” 
“You want to talk honesty? I would only tell you to shut up because I might have blown my cover and you’d realize I actually enjoyed your company.” 
The soft smile widens, more shameless and more radiant, “Coulda fooled me.” 
“I did fool you,” you tease, and your hand slips from his, but the warmth left behind doesn’t. It’s buried deep in your bones now. 
Things will never return to normal, not for you. It isn’t a bad thing – it’s only a sure thing. 
“For what it’s worth…” he pauses, that smile faltering. “I enjoyed your company far more than I ever let on, too.” 
Is that why you fought for me, after fighting against me? 
He doesn’t let you reply, instead smacking both of his now free palms against his thighs as he moves to stand, “Anyways, I actually do happen to want to go inside,” he gestures to those faded swirls of tattoos across his biceps and forearms, “I don’t expose myself to too much sun for obvious reasons.” 
“Reasons being you’re a vampire?” you tease.
“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, “Yes, it’s definitely because I’m a vampire and not because of these sick tatties.” 
“Calling those abominations sick is pushing it,” you playfully counter as you scoot to the edge of the seat of the chair, unsticking your thighs from plastic, “And I knew it. Your skin is practically glittering like diamonds, Edward.”
He scowls. “So Twilight is off the marathon line up.” 
He sticks out a hand, the same one you had clung to for most of your conversation with each other. You don’t take it immediately.
“There’s going to be a marathon?” 
“You’ve got something better to do?” 
The thought of cuddling up with him on the couch has your heart pounding. Honestly, the couch would now remain tainted for the rest of your days. You might even continue to avoid showing up to his apartment just to avoid flushing red any time you see one of your friends take a seat on the spot he once took you on, had pressed into you as your knees had dug into those cushions, as you had moaned his na-
You had to stop thinking about it before he noticed your thighs pressing together tightly. 
“For the record,” he says, hand still extended, unwavering as the sun forms an aura of gold around his outline, “Honesty hour doesn’t have to end when we go inside. From here on out, I actually insist that it be on the table. One of the perks of being my friend, I suppose.” 
Those are the magic words. You don’t need to immediately know why he fought for you, or why he really led you to believe he hated you for so long. You don’t need to know why he kissed you and you don’t need to know why he’d changed his tune so suddenly the first night you two met. All you needed to know was that if you wanted to know, if you ever find the guts to ask him about these things, he would tell you. 
You reach out and take his hand.
Immediately, he pulls you comically hard out of your chair. When you fumble directly into his chest, he’s already chuckling and wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you. 
“Jesus Christ,” you mumble, pulling back and glaring up at him without any true venom, “Eager much?”
“Very,” he boyishly grins down at you and your heart skips a beat. 
Eagerly, wildly, suddenly, comfortingly – he now occupies a space in your brain you weren’t aware existed. It almost whispers I was always here, always waiting for him. 
The two of you don’t waste any time as he tugs you inside, the promise of a movie marathon awaiting the two of you. 
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sanji-piss-hell · 6 months
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ZOSAN FIC REC
Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best. What I consider a good fic: - Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus) - Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story. - Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics) - The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here) - Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling. With that out of the way here's the list!! Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting: Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again. Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one: Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood
“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.
Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”
“Not that, your fucking feet!”
The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”
Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.
This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.
come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee
The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.
Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.
I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.
a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew. I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!
Part Timer By 8ball Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together. Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways. I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic. Onto the rated R Grand Buffet by asyndese Drunk fic!! If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it. I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough. Horrors not yet known by Trixree
Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.
In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.
I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too) Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj
Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.
Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.
I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn. Nature of things by stark_black Tw: Sex work and prostitutes When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit. I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane. Coregasm by Yakarmi
Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.
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“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”
Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.
“Sometimes.”
Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.
Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good. Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have
Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi
Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.
The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.
AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All
Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :( And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!
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noneorother · 7 months
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All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part2*
The Bonkers Meta Series 2: Electric Boogaloo. This week on the chopping block: The official Good Omens 2 soundtrack album!
Part 1  l  Part 2  
If you, like me, have absolutely no respect for your time (or your 2023 Spotify Wrapped) and are willing to sit with the show and the David Arnold score album running side by side to match up all the songs, then you too can find out what I did: exactly 6 songs in the album go off the rails in the show in a very specific way. And you know what they say about a song…
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So let’s break these misbehaving songs down, shall we? 
A Bell Tolls for Thee
There are SO MANY DAMN BELLS in season 2. I think the sound department might have had a competition going. But I want to show you the bells that happen in the music of the show, but not in the album.
Specifically, there are tubular bells all over the score in David Arnold’s orchestration in season 2 (and some in season 1). It’s an instrument used throughout classical music to represent grandfather clocks or church bells, signalling time passing, like striking the hour. But, this season has done something devious: it sets up your expectation by putting tubular bells in all the regular places in the score, so that you notice less when they whack a big tubular bell ring in a place where it should not be, at a key moment in the story. 
Feel free to go back and listen to these time codes in the show, it’s going to become obvious real fast.  
S2E1 - 14:55 l Song : Into Soho Aziraphale answers the door to a naked Gabriel, and recognizes him for the first time. A bell rings once.
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If you listen closely to the album version, David Arnold recorded a beautiful and uplifting ending to this track. Too bad we never get to hear it in the show, it splits off into a bell toll and then a reorchestration. We never hear the end!
S2E1 - 42:30 l Song : Tiny Miracle Aziraphale & Crowley perform a class-A miracle, and Crowley pokes the barrier with his finger. A bell rings twice.
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Same thing for Tiny Miracle! The ending of the song in the album we never get to hear in the show, it gets interrupted by 2 tubular bell tolls and another reorchestration of other music. 
S2E3 - 33:59 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Aziraphale considers the statue of Gabriel in his present day trip to Edinburgh. A bell rings three times.
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This one starts from silence with 3 bell tolls as a reprise of “Something terrible” starts just after it. The second and third bells are woven into the music on beats they never appear in those bars on the recording. 
S2E4 - 38:00 l Song : Zombie Dressing Room  Shax asks Beelzebub for permission to attack the bookshop. A bell rings four times.
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This one is extra weird (see my first music post). Even though we stretch out Zombie Dressing Room way after the dressing room scene is over and into the Shax in hell scene, it still manages to work in 4 new tubular bell rings that aren’t there in the score, and we never hear the same ending as on the album. 
S2E5 - 00:05 - 10:14 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Shax requisitions troops and gathers her legion. A bell rings five times.
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This one is tricky because Shax’s scene in hell is cut up 5 times, but you probably see where this is going: every time we cut back to Shax there’s a new bell rings once that wasn’t in the recording.  
S2E5 - 29:56 l Song : Shax Shax arrives from Hell in the elevbator to attack the bookshop. A bell rings six times.
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This is the last time in the season when we hear extra tubular bells. In a pretty bizarre turn of events, the demons Shax has mustered have walked in from down the street, but Shax takes the elevator to arrive at the bookshop. What a way to treat your troops. In any case, we get a final song that doesn’t get the ending it deserves, and gets cut off in favour of a reprise.
Taco Bell: Live Confused So why put so much effort into signalling these 6 specific actions with bell tolls? The first three are clearly Aziraphale & Crowley related, while the second three are Shax related. (All the Shax actions accompanied by bells have flashing lights above Shax.) Could this be a way of signalling we are halfway to the second coming, 6 hours until midnight on the armageddon clock? Or something else entirely?
Every time we hear the added bells, the soundtrack in the show deviates from the planned endings written for the album. Are these mistakes in the timeline, that were never supposed to happen in the ineffable plan? I guess we'll all be listening together for tubular bells in season 3... -------------------------------- Thanks to @embracing-the-ineffable for the encouragement, and the Ineffable detective agency for all their hard work. Part 1 is here!
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wholoveseggs · 14 days
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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dreamwritesimagines · 9 months
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Garden of Secrets [35] - Verbena Flower
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤
Summary: One can find a home in their chosen family.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.
Word Count: 3200
Series Masterlist
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You weren’t half as restless as you thought you would be, considering the recent events. If it were the beginning of the season, you would have been horrified at the idea of your parents being back but now?
You felt strangely safe, which was rather unexpected.
“Y/N!” Teddy rushed into the drawing room, almost breathless with excitement. “I have a surprise for you, and Benedict helped!”
You tilted your head, putting your book to the side and sat up straighter in the sofa.
“A surprise?” you asked, already smiling. “Is that why you two didn’t let me go in the studio?”
“Yes!” Teddy said, still holding something behind his back as Benedict appeared by the doorstep.
“Did you plan this?” you asked and he shook his head, grinning slightly.
“Completely Teddy’s idea.”
“Guess what it is!” Teddy insisted while Benedict leaned sideways to the door and you turned to Teddy.
“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “It’s a…is it a drawing?”
Teddy shook his head fervently, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Benedict will teach me how to draw but not yet!” he said, obviously pleased that you couldn’t guess it right. He giggled, then held up the small sculpture figure.
“Here!” he said, “It’s for you!”
“Oh my goodness!” you gasped, taking it from him and stealing a look at Benedict. “This is absolutely wonderful Teddy! A figure of a huma—cactus!” you corrected yourself mid-sentence when Benedict shook his head and mouthed it without Teddy seeing him.
“A cactus yes!” Teddy exclaimed, “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” you said with a huge smile. “Thank you so much Teddy! I will keep it forever.”
“I’m going to make them for uncle and auntie as well!” Teddy said and ran out of the drawing room, wheezing past Benedict. You suppressed a laugh, then looked down at the small sculpture again.
“Where are the needles?”
“He said putting those on it would make it a classic cactus and that he didn’t want that,” he said as he walked inside to fling himself on the armchair. “It’s a different cactus, he says.”
“Artists…” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head slightly and took a deep breath. “Hey, Benedict?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” you said. “For you know, spending time with Teddy.”
“He’s family,” Benedict stated, making you smile. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”
“It’s just that—he looks up to you so much,” you said. “No one else really taught him anything about art.”
He gave you a grin. “I’m telling you, he will be a very successful sculptor.”
“I just hope he will be happy, that’s all,” you said and bit down on your lip. “How’s your hand by the way?”
“Oh it feels much better,” Benedict said, curling his fingers as if checking for the pain and you cleared your throat.
“But should you even be painting or sculpting?” you asked him. “I think you should be resting your hand, no?”
“It’s fine, I promise,” he assured you. “Hey, you do know he can stay with us as long as he wants, don’t you?”
Your head shot up. “Hm?”
“Teddy,” he said. “You’re worried because he’s staying with your aunt and uncle and you think your father and mother might show up there again.”
You pulled your brows together.
“Can you read my mind or something?”
“Or something,” he said with a smile. “Seriously though. He already has a room here, it’s his house too.”
You pulled your brows together in deep in thought before you shook your head slightly.
“I should probably see how it’s going to go before taking those precautions,” you said. “I don’t want him to get all confused and such and even though I want him close, uncle and aunt have been doing a great job so…”
Benedict nodded. “Whenever you want.”
“But I was thinking,” you said. “Perhaps I should tell your mother about some of it.”
Benedict tilted his head.
“You don’t have to.”
“No I won’t—obviously I won’t tell her about the details, just that…just that my parents are here and we don’t have the best relationship,” you said. “Knowing my parents, they’ll try to meet your family and I honestly don’t want that.”
“Do you want me there with you?”
“I was thinking you could inform Anthony actually?” you asked and hissed in a breath. “Because you know, he and I don’t exactly have the friendliest relationship.”
“Hasn’t escaped my notice, surprising as it may,” Benedict pointed out, making you giggle. “He already asked me what happened to my hand.”
“And?”
“I told him I had an accident with a palette knife.”
“But your palette knives aren’t exactly sharp?”
“You say that like Anthony knows what a palette knife is,” Benedict said, making you bite down on your lip to contain your laughter. “It has the word knife in it, so he didn’t exactly question what happened.”
A giggle escaped from your lips.
“That’s smart of you,” you said and tilted your head. “I suppose you’re not merely looks after all.”
He shot you that lopsided grin that always managed to make your heart skip a beat.
“Well—”
“Benedict!” Teddy’s voice carried into the room, cutting Benedict off. “Can you come and check if these ones look good please?”
Benedict chuckled and got up from the armchair as you cleared your throat.
“Sorry about that,” you said. “I can—”
“To repeat, he’s family,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss on your head. “Let me know when we’re leaving hm?”
“…Alright,” you said and watched him walk out of the drawing room. You stared at the door where he disappeared for a couple of seconds, his pleasant scent still in your lungs and pressed a hand over your chest to at least soothe your fast heartbeat that had got crazy the minute he kissed you. You slid a little on the sofa, then threw your shoulders back and grabbed your book, trying your hardest to focus.
                                           *
When you got to the Bridgerton House, Benedict dragged Anthony and Colin outside, leaving you to talk to Lady Bridgerton comfortably. Lady Bridgerton had always been incredibly nice to you before or after your wedding to Benedict, and though you hadn’t gone out of your way to spend a lot of time with her, you hoped she knew how much you respected her.  
Besides, it was likely that she assumed you and Benedict were still in your honeymoon phase so she didn’t mind.
“I’m so glad you came for tea Y/N!” she said. “Eloise will be sorry to have missed you, she went to visit Penelope.”
“It’s alright Lady Bridgerton,” you said. “I was actually hoping to talk to you alone.”
She gasped, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Oh my goodness, I hope this is not about what was on Lady Whistledown yesterday!”
“It’s—sorry, what?” you asked, suddenly distracted. “What was that?”
She blinked a couple of times.
“Oh I assumed…” she trailed off. “I assumed this was what brought this on.”
“I don’t read Whistledown,” you said. “Neither does Ben—what was on it?”
“Just some unfounded rumors,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “Nothing important.”
“Can I see?” you asked and she motioned at the paper on the small coffee table.
“Third paragraph,” she said helpfully, and your eyes skimmed the lines.
Speaking of newly married couples, we sure hope that our favorite artist Mr. Bridgerton’s love for his wife is not turning out to be an infatuation like many assumed it was. He seemed like he had a lot to talk about with Lady Margery Sutton the other day at the park, and as it was noticed by a lot of members of the ton at the park, the two seemed like they were having quite fun while Mrs. Bridgerton preferred the companionship of Miss Harlowe, soon to be Viscountess Bridgerton. We trust that it was just a friendly conversation between two ladies rather than Mrs. Bridgerton finding herself in the same position that Miss Harlowe once did if the rumors were true; being heartbroken by the same man.
“What the…” you trailed off and shook your head fervently, frowning at the paper before raising your glances from it. “This is not true. Everything is fine between me and Benedict, and Margery is a friend, that’s all.”
“Of course,” Lady Bridgerton said. “Benedict is in love with you, everyone knows that.”
You held up the paper, trying to ignore that uncomfortable sinking in your stomach. “Not everyone.”
“Don’t mind Lady Whistledown,” she said. “She has her whole attention on Anthony and Lottie nowadays, these rumors will go away before you know it.”
You tried to shake off the image of Margery and Benedict together, then cleared your throat.
“I am so happy for Anthony and Lottie by the way,” you said. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
“Neither can I,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m just glad they’re finally together, after years.”
“They’ll be very happy together.”
 “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked and you took a deep breath, running a hand over your face.
“Lady Bridgerton, um…” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this situation actually but I thought you should know before anyone else, and Benedict kindly agreed—”
“Oh my God!” she gasped, covering her mouth. “Y/N, you’re with child!”
“Wh—no!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening as you shook your head. “I’m not! It’s not like that Lady Bridgerton, I assure you.”
“Oh,” she lowered her hands. “My apologies.”
Your face felt like it was on fire as you fixed the silky skirts of your gown.
“So I’m sure you noticed that my parents weren’t at the wedding breakfast or the engagement or anything,” you started. “And I know I said it was because the road would be too difficult for them from the countryside to here but it wasn’t the actual truth. They weren’t here because I didn’t invite them to any of it.”
She pulled her brows together in confusion.
“Why not?”
“My parents and I…” you trailed off, nibbling on your lip. “We don’t have the best relationship.”
She stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.
“While I was growing up, they—” you paused for a moment. “They’re not like you or my aunt and uncle, they weren’t the nicest while me and Josie were growing up. That’s actually why my uncle took us in, me and Teddy.”
She pressed her lips together.
“I’m telling you this because they’re in town actually,” you forced yourself to say. “They might approach you or Anthony or—I don’t know. I’m not certain, but I wanted you to know, just in case.”
She reached out to hold your hand in hers, offering you an assuring smile.
“Does Benedict know?”
“Oh yes,” you said, nodding your head. “He has known for a while now about…my home life growing up. And he also knows that they’re in town, he’s telling Anthony as we speak.”
“And are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you said almost automatically. “Sure.”
“Y/N.”
“It’s just that they’re not…” you thought for a second. “I don’t want them to put you or your family in a situation you do not want to, Lady Bridgerton, and I will do my best to make sure—”
“Y/N, you are family,” she said and you bit down on your lip.
“You don’t have to say that just because Benedict and I are married.”
“Sweetheart,” she said, squeezing your hand in a loving manner. “You became family the moment Benedict fell in love with you.”
You could feel the burning in your eyes and a teary laugh escaped from your lips.
“Might not have been his best decision.”
“I disagree,” she said. “It makes me so happy to see you two in love and happy, and please know that you are a member of our family. We will always love you and protect you, no matter what.”
Your throat tightened as you tried to blink back the tears.
“Thank you,” you rasped out. “It…it means more than you know.”
“Of course,” she said and patted your hand. “By the way, does this have something to do with Benedict’s hand being bandaged?”
You raised your brows, then shook your head.
“Uh no,” you said. “A palette knife accident, that’s all.”
                                       *
After having tea with Lady Bridgerton, you decided to go to the pastry shop and sit down alone with your book for an hour or two before going back home. Your parents being back still managed to make you feel rather tense especially after talking about it with someone else, so you ordered some coffee and a slice of cake and opened your book, desperate to get away from your thoughts.
Yet, you wouldn’t be so lucky.
It hadn’t even been a couple of minutes since the shop owner brought you your tea and cake that you heard the chair opposite to yours being pulled, the noise making you look up and as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach.
She looked exactly like you remembered her. Her clothes were different, probably thanks to the money your uncle kept sending them every month, but other than that, it felt as if it could’ve been yesterday since you had last seen her. Your jaw clenched and you dug your fingernails into your palm before gritting your teeth, rolling your shoulders back to sit up straighter.
“Hello mother,” you forced yourself to say and she clutched at her chest, shaking her head as if she was overtaken by emotions.
“Y/N,” she said. “Oh my dearest daughter…”
A scoff escaped from your lips at that and you leaned backwards in your seat as soon as she took a step towards you.
“Do not,” you growled and she paused for a moment, then sat down on the chair.
“Look at you,” she said, her eyes darting over your face before lowering to your dress. “You are a young woman of the ton now. A proper lady.”
You arched a brow. “What are you doing here?”
“Well I had to see you of course!” she said. “My little Y/N, an actual member of the ton now… I cannot believe it, I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t be, you had nothing to do with it,” you pointed out and she heaved a sigh.
“Let’s not start that, shall we?” she said, making you raise your brows. “At least wait a while until you start being so bitter.”
“So bitter?” you repeated, letting out a dry laugh. “Jesus Christ.”
“How is Teddy?”
Your eyes narrowed into a glare and she let out a breath.
“There it is, that glare,” she said. “Some things do not change at all. You were like this when you were little as well, just sitting there and judging people, glaring at us as if you were better than us.”
“I mean that’s not very difficult,” you pointed out. “It’s not as if you’re setting the bar high to be honest.”
“Y/N, for old times’ sake,” she said. “Let’s catch up first before you attack me.”
“Oh sure,” you said, “What old times are we talking about by the way? The time father threatened to kick Josie out of the house, or when he slammed my head to the wall and you stood there doing nothing?”
She shook her head fervently. “That’s not how I remember it.”
You clenched your teeth, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I forgot you did that,” you muttered more to yourself and she cleared her throat.
“How is your husband?”
“My husband broke your husband’s nose a couple of nights ago,” you said. “Did you not see? Or has that prick not come home still, drinking himself to oblivion somewhere?”
“I’m sure that fight has an explanation.”
“Father disrespected me,” you stated. “That’s the explanation.”
“He may have lost his temper, some old habits die hard but,” she said, “he’s a changed man, Y/N.”
You tilted your head. “Of course,” you said. “I’m sure he is. He is a changed man after his fifth drink, then after eighth he becomes who he is again.”
“Well you and your sister didn’t help,” she said through her teeth. “What with Josie always badmouthing him and you always glaring. You both were always up to something, showing him disrespect, of course you needed a firm hand—”
“And you did nothing.”
“He’s my husband.”
“We were your children, mother!” you snapped and shook your head. “Actually you know what? None of that matters now.”
“You’re married now too,” she said. “So what if I let him discipline you? You have a husband now, you know how—”
“Benedict would rather die than raise a hand to me,” your voice came out as a growl. “Don’t ever disrespect him by trying to lump him together with your husband.”
She heaved a sigh.
“Naïve as always,” she said. “And so very sensitive.”
You could feel the anger boiling at your throat but you pressed your lips together.
“You know,” you trailed off, running your fingertip over the fork on the table. “In my nightmares I’m back home with you two. I suppose it’s because my mind cannot conjure up anything more horrifying than that, but then I wake up and I realize that I never will be back in that hell. It’s quite relieving, really.”
She held your gaze for a couple of seconds, then tsk tsked.
“All this grudge is not good for you, Y/N,” she said. “Especially concerning your family. I’m worried about you.”
You gawked at her, a calmness washing over you as you let the words sink in, then took a deep breath and closed your book, smiling at her.
“Oh don’t worry about me, mother,” you said, pride clear in your voice. “Honestly. Because after this little, unpleasant conversation, I’ll get in my carriage and go home to my husband who happens to be the most handsome and talented and amazing man in the ton—scratch that, in the world— and who, if I may add, is completely in love with me. And while we’re eating dinner in our huge mansion that uncle gifted us as a wedding gift and then going to the next ball or social outing only to be surrounded by the people I actually care about, I won’t be worried about you. I won’t be thinking about you at all.”
She looked almost frozen by the impact of your words and you reached into your reticule to take out a couple of coins, then put them on the table and got up from your chair, putting your palms on the table to lean in slightly so that she could hear you.
“I already have a family,” you said, your voice nearly a hiss. “And you and your husband are of no use to me or my real family. Go back to the hellhole you crawled out of, and leave us all alone.”
With that, you walked out of the pastry shop, a proud smile curling your lips as you approached the carriage waiting for you by the street.
“Where to, ma’am?”
“Home please,” you said as you got in the carriage without sparing a glance back to the pastry shop window. “Thank you.” 
Chapter 36
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makeyoumine69 · 1 month
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Being Bateman’s Soulmate | HEADCANON
Pairing: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; CW: Romance & Angst; Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: The Cure — Lovesong; A/N: This is dedicated to everyone who is madly in love with their fictional crush! 💗 If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!
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— “Soulmate? What the fuck does that word even mean?” Bateman would say the first time you mentioned it. His reaction would amuse you at first, although you knew that Patrick would understand its meaning in time, and that feeling when you could touch another person's soul as if it were material. The feeling of wanting to scream because you were so in love that you couldn't even believe it was possible to have such feelings. All of this would eventually overwhelm him, and then he'd never want it to end.
— "You think I have a soul, huh?" He would smile whenever you had sentimental conversations, and even though Bateman kept repeating that he didn't like them, you would sometimes see him sitting alone, thinking about his life before he met you. Did you make his life better? Well, was it even possible to judge such things? Since nothing in this world could be black or white, it was always gray.  But with you, his life was painted in new colors.
— “I remember you telling me that your favorite color was red.” Red like the blood that spilled on his perfect sheets whenever he treated you too rough, but you never asked him to stop. Sometimes those little scarlet spots on the white sheets could look like petals from the red roses Bateman used to give you, even though he knew how clichéd that was. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?" The man would ask, tracing his long finger over the red marks on your hip.  Sighing, you would roll onto your stomach and give him your most devoted look. "Because I like it," and that was all he needed to hear from you. "I'd tell you if I didn't." Having said that, you would sit up to find his lips and kiss him, slowly but eagerly, transmitting all the love and emotion you had for him through that kiss.
— "If you say you love me, why does it hurt so much?" He would ask you this question over and over again after he had a breakdown because he was so overwhelmed by everything you were giving him: your care, your affection, your understanding, and your support. Eventually, it all became too much for him, and when Patrick realized that he was probably in love with you, a sharp pain coursed through the very small pitch of his body like an electric impulse. He loved you so much it hurt.
— One night, you were sitting in the living room in Bateman’s slick apartment and watching some classic romantic comedy from the 1930s, the scenes from it made you think about something you never expected you would. "Patrick, have you ever thought about death?" You asked suddenly, holding his hand and noticing how tense he became. "I mean... I'm afraid of death because I don't want to be without you, if that makes any sense." At first, Patrick just laughed and gently moved closer to you, hugging your shoulders possessively. "Can you promise me that... if there is an afterlife, you will find me there?" Nearly sobbing, you looked into his dark, brown eyes, at the way his eyebrows furrowed as the man considered his answer. "And we will be together even after death?" Your voice cracked at the weight of your words, never before had you dared to speak of such things.
— The question of death, an abstract yet intimately familiar topic, drew a thoughtful arch to his brow. Death was not a stranger to him, nor was it an adversary he feared-not in the way that the average person might. "Death," Patrick began, his voice tinged with a cold amusement that belied the gravity of the subject. "It's the only certainty in life, isn't it? A final transaction, one we all must make." His arm tightened around you, a gesture that feigned warmth but held an undercurrent of something sharper. Bateman met your gaze, the hazel of his eyes unreadable yet intense, reflecting the black-and-white dance of images on the screen. "If there is an afterlife," he continued, weighing each word like a coin on a scale, "I'll find you. But let's not be so morose, darling." The man leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his breath a whisper that carried the scent of the red wine you had shared earlier. "Life is for the living, and I intend to savor every moment I have with you. Making promises about the afterlife is... morbidly romantic, but unnecessary. I have you now, and you have me. Isn't that enough?"
— And that was even more than enough.
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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llamagoddessofficial · 10 months
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Llamaaaaa, I’ve got major brain rot over the Maifia babes! Would the situation/ romancing of reader change much if she were the daughter of a rival, Don or a straight and narrow police captain?
oooh... the daughter of a police captain? It might change a few things
Sans: He lies to everyone. Her dad is no exception. He's dedicated every aspect of himself to ensuring she belongs to him- what's one more person to lie to? Though staging her father's death was certainly an option, Sans draws an oddly specific line at killing family (wonder why?).
Sans is charming, in the way many stereotypical sociopaths are. He plays the safe, stable, polite boyfriend that wins her family over with bad jokes and good manners. His facade of having a boring and safe (yet very successful) banking job means Mc's dad might even actively prefer Sans over her past partners, because he believes she'll be safe.
And... well. He's not wrong. The only times Sans has ever been honest with Mc's father was when asked if he loved her, and if he'd keep her safe.
Red: Fuck cops. Red's gonna be the irresistible bad boy with a heart of gold, the attractive and dangerous side of life that she's been denied until now. Power and glamour and parties and all the wild luxuries and freedoms his protection brings- what's her dad gonna do, arrest him for taking a consenting pretty lady on expensive dates? Red likes subtly gloating about how the cops have absolutely no evidence against him for anything.
... He's also going to show her the reality of the police. He'll show her just why he's so antagonistic toward a captain. Things are a lot more complex than her 'straight and narrow' dad has lead her to believe, it's never been as simple as the good cops vs. the evil monsters... why do you think he got so powerful in the first place, doll? Here's a clue; it wasn't because the cops were well liked.
... Cop or not, though, Red gets antsy at the thought of her losing someone she loves. So for the time being, Mc's dad is unaware that Red's 'family' have designated him completely off-limits. Red may despise everything her father stands for, but he's not going to let the man die.
Skull: It doesn't change much about his wooing method. He's still a mess, he still tries to win her over with classical romance methods and pretty things. Who her family is has absolutely no meaning to him. Though... he might start deliberately targeting people who pose a threat to her, considering her dad is most likely well known.
Honestly, if it gets to the point where she's bringing Skull home to meet her family, I can see Mc's dad taking something of a weird shine to Skull. Not knowing about the giant's crimes, obviously. Skull might be physically imposing, but her dad has met a lot of imposing people, and when Skull is around Mc he just seems so... harmless. Like a puppy following her around, waiting for a pat. Skull's total adoration is so clear and untainted that it shines through his terrible appearance.
Her dad gets the strong feeling that no matter what Skull does, he will always put Mc first. He approves of that.
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mtkay13 · 11 months
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WenZhou x Memes! and, of course, some thoughts. More memes below + explanations! (Very Long Post)
You know other men?
The first one above was based on a famous "you know other men?" meme, that Bichen suggested we take part in (in the TYK community). I wanted to make ZZS smile at WKX's antics because it makes him laugh, ofc, and because he's quite fond of that wife act WKX enjoys playing so much.
The Barbie meme
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Interestingly enough, this one has sparked quite a bunch of discussions online. When we had talked about making the meme for TYK!WenZhou, both Moose (@butleronice) and I thought that having ZZS as the serious one felt a bit strange. I feel like TYK!ZZS as I know him is rather goofy and would be more likely to make fun of the situation and the authorities that he doesn't take seriously.
WKX, besides in ZZS' presence, in the book, tends to act very cold and not necessarily civil--especially if you think those would be Jianghu authorities. Not saying the reverse wouldn't work, of course! But for my conception of the characters, it felt off. However--on twitter, we both received more comments than necessary saying: "This should be the opposite." "WKX should be the fun one--", etc. I have to confess that this left me worried regarding ZZS' reputation, considering that more often than not, when I make him to be the goofier, more stupid looking one, I get surprised reactions. I wonder what exactly has given him these... serious, un-fun vibes for many people.
The way I see it, in the book, ZZS is quite fun, overly civil and polite in a fake-smiley way, gets himself in absurd situations and WKX comments on him as being ridiculous and goofy. Of course, in ZZS' presence, WKX himself acts in a very extra way, but overall, in the book, WKX is quite closed-off and cold towards others, and doesn't give those vibes of being fun, extra or goofy to me. (I won't lie, I do blame the first and most popular translations for that, as they make ZZS quite stiff in the dialogs and I feel like this doesn't help...) I don't think it's a problem if people see them differently, though! But it was upsetting to see how some people did (quite rudely in some case) allow themselves to tell us how wrong we were, especially considering the time and care we both put in our decision to characterise them this way (and work on their expressions).
I recommend going to check Moose's version on her twitter as well (@butleronduty)!!
Equal strength
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This one was based on a meme posted by Choco (@kwehxing) on twitter; about how this dialog would be fun for WenZhou.
I, once again, considered that yeah, maybe the default would have WKX turn any situation into a reason to fuck--but at the same time, I wondered: is it really his style? Isn't he having plenty of situations in which he can bring that up, already? I like to read ZZS as having a certain competence kink, and I think he gets off of sparring and feeling WKX's strength. I thought it fun to imagine him getting really worked up from sparring and using that as an excuse to demand fucking because OBVIOUSLY what else. I guess that to me, this is a reflection of how his mind is working.
The Tintin parody
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My friend Angel brought a tintin parody comic from the @tintinades account on twitter and instagram. Here is the original. I thought it could be really fun to adapt it for WenZhou with a little twist at the end. Of course, mastering qinggong, WenZhou probably don't really need the ropes--although I think that ZCL isn't able to safely cross the road yet which is why they wanted to make a way. However, WKX clearly got distracted and went on ahead, hehe.
The distracted BF
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This one was suggested by Bichen again--a classic, which worked really well and was actually quite funny when using Hoboxu.
He wants to order
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This was the first meme I ever drew for WenZhou, following the "he/she wants to order" pattern. Pretty self-explanatory!
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cuubism · 2 months
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I'd love something about Dream who's very aware that he's way too intense romantically while also being not intense enough sexually because he's ace. His partners usually prefer it the other way around. If that's something you'd be willing to write (if not that's okay too)
hmm yes, we can always do ace dream. though we didn't quite reach 'aware' 😂 human uni au is what popped to my mind
--
When Hob gets back from class, Dream is lying facedown on the couch, one long arm trailing morosely down to the floor, face smashed so deeply into a pillow that Hob can only see the tufts of his hair. He seems to have been there for some time, and doesn't move when Hob comes in.
"Horrors insurmountable today?" Hob asks as he puts down his bag and heads to the adjoining kitchen to grab a snack. He'll probably need to grab one for Dream, too, now that he thinks about it. Doubtful he's eaten.
Dream just makes an mmph sound against his pillow. Then, once Hob's returned to the living room with a plate of apple slices, Dream pops his head up, lines all over his cheek from the pillow, fluffy hair going every which way, and says, "How much do you care about sex?"
Hob nearly trips and flings his apple slices everywhere. "What?"
"In general," Dream persists, heedless of Hob's shock. "Do you subscribe to the belief that individuals past puberty, particularly men, think about sex constantly, or is that an exaggeration? Which do you think is more important in a partnership: compatible personalities, or compatible sex drives? And why?"
"What is this, a sociology assignment?"
"Answer, please," Dream insists.
Hob sighs and gives in to the mad questioning. Joke's on him for having an insane roommate. "I thought about sex all the time when I was thirteen, maybe. Right now I'm just thinking about how I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm fucking starving but we're playing Twenty Questions instead of eating. And as to the second one, I don't know, Dream, I think both are probably important."
"So you think about sex an amount you would consider 'frequent'," Dream presses.
Hob's cheeks heat. Sex is not really a topic he wants to discuss with Dream of all people. Those two thoughts don't meld together into anything good for polite company. "I don't know, I guess!? Doesn't everyone?"
Dream lets out a despairing wail and thumps his head back into his pillow. "I am outnumbered."
Hob still has no idea what the hell he's on about. He finally gives up and just starts eating the apple slices. He offers one to Dream, holding it by the corner of his eye until he finally sees it and takes it, turns his head to the side just enough to start nibbling on it.
"You'll choke if you eat that lying down," Hob warns.
Dream begrudgingly pushes himself up, collapsing against the back of the couch, and goes back to nibbling on his apple slice.
"So," Hob continues, awkwardly, when Dream doesn't say anything else, "sex life not going so well, then?"
Dream glares at him, though it's not very intimidating considering the apple halfway into his mouth. "Too well, by most standards," he finally sniffs, and eats the rest of the slice.
"Oh, yeah?" Dream having sex is another thing Hob doesn't really like to think about. Why'd he bring that up again?
"Indeed. I have suitors falling over each other to bed me," Dream says.
Do all classic literature students talk the way Dream does? Hob doesn't know. It's been two years that they've lived together and he's still yet to definitively figure out if it's an affectation or just the way Dream is. He's leaning towards the latter.
Unfortunately, he can believe Dream's statement. Dream is a snitty little prick most of the time, but he's also unbearably beautiful.
"So what's the problem, then?" he asks.
"I don't want them to bed me," Dream says.
Hob's not following. "Say no, then?"
Dream rolls his eyes. "I don't want them to bed me, I want them to want me." His voice loses some of its determination halfway through the sentence, and he looks away.
Ouch. "Sounds like they do want you?"
Dream snorts. "Only so long as it suits them. Only so long as I fit their parameters. Today I spoke to Cori--"
Ah, yes, Cori, Dream's most recent ex-boyfriend. Dream's had a lot of ex-boyfriends, but Cori really tops the list, and not in a good way.
Now that Hob thinks about it, all of Dream's relationships kind of go the same way. Dream comes home after the first date bouncing off the walls with stars in his eyes insisting this person's the one, and within two months the thing's somehow torpedoed into the Underworld and Hob's scraping Dream up off the bathroom floor.
He's starting to see where the initial line of questioning might have come from.
"--and he, at last, was straightforward with me when no one else has bothered to be all this time. I demanded to know, truthfully, why he ended things, and he told me that I 'care too much, but won't put out'--"
Hob winces.
"--which does not make sense, as we had sex frequently? I do not know what else I am meant to be 'putting' and where. I said as much, and he laughed, and said--" he imitates Cori's voice with a surprisingly passable American accent-- "'It only counts if you at least pretend you want to be there, doll. Next time try initiating occasionally.' He left before I could question him further."
Hob doesn't like the picture this is painting. And Dream is looking at him beseechingly, like Hob might be able to explain the bizarre encounter. "So... now you're trying to figure out if your understanding of sex is wrong or something?"
"I felt that, as a neutral observer to the situation, you would be appropriate to survey," Dream says.
(Neutral is a stretch, Hob thinks.)
"So I ask you, Hob Gadling, as a man demonstrably unbothered by 'hookup culture'--"
"Are you calling me a slut?"
"--what do you think is the correct amount that one should care about sex? Because I--" he breaks off, twisting his fingers in his hair, suddenly anxious-- "I do not know what I am doing wrong."
Hob moves to sit beside him, lays a hand lightly on his arm. He's about to say, you're not doing anything wrong, except... that may not precisely be true. At least in terms of how Dream is actually handling it with his partners.
"How much do you care about sex?" he asks.
"Not as much as I am supposed to, evidently," Dream says. Hob just waits for him to elaborate. "Not very much. I prefer not to think about it." He looks at Hob, weary. "Now you will tell me that this is abnormal."
"I don't know what's 'normal'," Hob says. "But it does sound different from how Cori felt about it."
"I suppose," Dream says, sadly.
Hob doesn't particularly like where the intersection of 'I don't care about sex' and 'we had sex all the time' lands him. "If you don't care that much, why keep doing it?"
"It is what is done, is it not?" says Dream. "Besides. I do not mind so much. But even when I do participate, it is still not good enough. Or so it seems."
It's because they're picking up on the fact that you're not really enjoying it, Hob thinks. No one wants a partner who's not engaging. Least not anyone decent. But not saying anything and then just dipping out suddenly is kind of a dickish move, in his opinion.
"Do you want to participate?" he asks.
This seems to give Dream pause. "Mostly I would prefer to do other things. Like. Dates. Only that does not seem much appreciated either." He twists his hands together. "Perhaps Cori is right. I. Care too much."
"No." Hob takes Dream's hands and untwists them. "Cori's a dickhead. You just need to find someone who's on the same page as you, that's all."
"But it seems that book is rather empty," Dream says. He hasn't taken his hands back from Hob.
"Well, was there anyone that you did like having sex with? Or has it always just been--" he can't help but cringe-- "you just putting up with it because you thought you were supposed to?"
"Calliope," Dream says instantly, and Hob lets out a relieved breath. At least it's not all bad. "Because, no matter that it ended poorly... I felt that she truly liked me. And not. Just sex."
"Okay, see?" he says. "You just have to find someone like that."
It... hurts, to try to push Dream into someone else's path. But Hob's long accepted that Dream doesn't feel that way about him. Dream rarely seems hesitant about trying to date anyone he is interested in. Surely if he felt that way about Hob, he would have made it clear by now.
"Someone," Dream echoes, looking down at their joined hands.
"Just because what you want isn't common doesn't mean it's not out there," Hob says, trying to be encouraging. "And hey, if you know now, you can avoid the whole 'not on the same page' rigamarole, hm?"
"Yes," Dream says. "I suppose so." Finally he takes back his hands, instead taking another apple slice from the plate Hob's left on the coffee table and chewing on it slowly.
I would love you right, Hob thinks, unwanted, unbidden. It's not a productive thought, and it's a painful one, too.
"Perhaps I will take a break," Dream decides, though doesn't sound entirely happy about it.
"Could be good," Hob says. "Get your head on right."
"Yes," Dream agrees. "This has been. Illuminating. I thank you for your counsel. I suppose I will have to also thank Cori, 'dickhead' though he may be."
And with that he retreats to his room, still seeming a little off-kilter. And Hob can't help but feel like he's gone wrong somewhere, said something wrong, though he doesn't know where, or what.
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