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#they understand each other on a level no one else ever could
mars-ipan · 2 months
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thinking abt kmhn’s mutual desire to understand each other…. wailing
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’
☀︎|tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.
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a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.
“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.
and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.
“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.
sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.
though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.
sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.
were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?
he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.
“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”
sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”
lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.
but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.
sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.
you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.
“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.
you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.
you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.
“where’d you think you’re going?”
sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.
you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.
his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.
he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.
“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.
you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.
even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.
you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.
“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.
you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”
a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.
“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.
you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.
sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.
“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”
it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.
the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.
until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.
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palms-upturned · 4 months
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Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.
This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.
If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.
Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.
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magnoliamyrrh · 10 months
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....and i think. idk. inherently to an extent ppl whove been through...,, a certein level and kind of traumatized almost speak a slightly different language.... with so much, there is no need to.. explain. we just get it. instantly, we just... get some things
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dazai making up a whole language with fyodor that no one else can understand is amazing but imagine him using codes that, very objectively speaking, you could crack, it's just that no normal person would ever make the insane leaps in logic that it requires. except for someone familiar with dazai's weird thinking patterns, that is.
i just love the idea of dazai's unhinged antics being dialed up to an eleven when he was in the port mafia, and oda being the only one who simply wouldn't bat an eye at it but chuuya was the only one who would actually get it.
like imagine ango at the end of the jailbreak, his boss saying he should allow himself to sigh and lean back and maybe indulge himself, pat him on the shoulder, tell him what he pulled off reading heart rates wasn't easy and he should be proud for being able to keep up with such a plan
but ango i-drank-with-teenage-dazai-and-also-had-the-records-for-every-soukoku-mission sakaguchi can only remember the time dazai was like using greek sign language through his breathing patterns to communicate from a submarine from beneath the pacific ocean or something, and chuuya could not fathom how no one else could understand him.
and that was the day mori signed off on skk being exclusive partners because every subordinate in the room was crying tears of blood by the time chuuya finished explaining which blood pressure level was warning them about a bomb, which blinking sequence was him conveying the vault password and which series of inhales was just him calling mori a bitch.
(ango also pointedly did not want to think about how smug dazai had looked after the mission when mori confirmed skk would only be each others' partners for efficiency and to maintain everyone else's sanity
or about how when he called chuuya to tell him about dazai's prison break scheme he could only get like 3 out of 276 steps into the plan before chuuya rolled his eyes, said "got it" then hung up and pulled the whole thing off without a hitch.)
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Friends with Benefits with Jax
Pairing: Jax x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, friends with benefits, protectiveness, jealousy, rough sex, marking
A/N: More of this silly, chaotic rabbit man.
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FwB!Jax is very clear that yes he considers you his friend, but no he isn't your boyfriend nor will he ever be. This is just fucking each other and it's all that it will ever be. Inside each others bedrooms you can dirty talk all you'd like but once you step out it's back to friendly banter.
FwB!Jax never lets himself get into a scenario where he could catch feelings for you. There's no romantic teasing, there's no talking about the two of you as more then friends, not even his other friends can do that, he shuts that down real quick.
FwB!Jax teases you a lot in front of other but a lot of has to do with bragging about his skills. How you look like you need him to help you walk straight, how raspy your voice sounds, how tired you look despite the fact that you don't need to sleep. Getting to see you all flustered about it is just a bonus to the ego boost he gets from his own pep talk and the looks the two of you get.
FwB!Jax entertains the idea of you being his and his alone but only when he's cock deep in you. That's the only time where his guard is truly down and he'll let you say anything you want to him. It's also the only time where he feels comfortable enough to admit he loves you, even on a purely physical level.
FwB!Jax makes sure he fucks you hard when he sees you being friendly with anyone else. You can have friends of course, he does too, the same ones in fact, but touching them like you touch him? That can't happen you understand? He doesn't want to entertain that idea, so he makes sure it's his name you scream for everyone to hear, so loud that your rooms had to be modified to be soundproof.
FwB!Jax is a rabbit in this world and as such he has a lot of stamina when he gets going. He can take you away for a whole day of fucking and then the next day talk to you like it didn't happen even though proof of it is all over the two of you. It's pretty to see in his opinion.
FwB!Jax doesn't care how much you mark him up, he doesn't have clothes that can hide much anyway. He also doesn't want to restrict you sexually, he's a very adventurous guy when it comes to sex and he's happy that you are too. In fact he is so comfortable he will ask to have different things manifested for the two of you and then pretend that he doesn't know why everyone else calls him a pervert.
FwB!Jax never stays in the morning, for him it feels to intimate for friends. He's either gone immediately after or the first one to get up in the morning. At first this was so the two of you weren't seen together but after everyone figured out what your relationship was it became more about maintaining that non-romantic distance between you.
FwB!Jax can get very protective over you when a new person comes to the Circus because he's actually a little afraid that someone might steal you away. It's a stupid thought because there are only so many people here and the two of you are the only ones who are also fucking on the side but still, he gets a little more protective for a period of time.
FwB!Jax lets you know that he won't ever fuck anyone else as long as he has you. No, not because he likes you romantically but because you're already friends, he doesn't need to go through the trouble of explaining himself to someone else, it's easy to be with you, it's one of the most comfortable things about this place.
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akumakosuke · 2 months
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Satoru Gojo was born a god among mortals.
From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than everyone.
Satoru Gojo stands alone atop a pedestal at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, forever destined to bask in the glory of being the strongest. No one could ever dream to reach his level, he didn’t dream to reach his level but it was cast on him like a curse.
He is a cursed child indeed.
Exactly a week after the miracle birth of Satoru Gojo another clan also welcomed a miracle birth.
M/n Goto was born a god among mortals.
From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than anyone…except…
M/n Goto forced the pedestal to grow.
Satoru Gojo tipped the balance of the scales and M/n Goto totally destroyed the scale.
All curse users went into hiding, curses became almost completely inactive for an entire year following the birth of two gods.
During the first few years of their lives they remained blissfully unaware of how deep their destinies intertwine, how truly connected they are.
The day they met was another day to go down in the history books.
Two lone gods, wandering a world that will forever be beneath them, filled with people who will forever be beneath them.
Their paths cross and in that moment time stands still for the young gods, a feeling they’ve never experienced, a sudden tugging at their souls, telling them to turn around and they do.
Crystal-like icy blue orbs clash with star-like fiery red orbs and in that moment two lonely gods became a little less lonely.
The two grew close much to the dismay of many. They knew of their places in the world and they knew no one else understands but them. No one else understands they’re cursed children.
Days of meeting for play dates turned into weekend sleepovers, weekend sleepovers turned into months of bonding, months slowly turned into years and M/n and Satoru thrived, they grew and changed but their bond only got deeper.
They pushed each other to the limits, forcing the other to evolve and keep up and evolve they did.
By the age of 15 they were both Special Grade sorcerers heading into their first year at Jujutsu tech.
Their relationship has also evolved over the years much like their power.
They’re best friends, sure they’re closer than most best friends. They have regular sleepovers and share the same bed, unable to fall asleep without cuddling and sure they are affectionate in public, always staying glued to the others side, an arm around a shoulder here, hands resting on the others hips there and maybe they have kissed a few times but that’s just them being best friends, totally platonic!
Do they have an unspoken agreement to reject any advances from other people? Yes.
Do they acknowledged the agreement? No, that’s why its unspoken, just like the reason they reject everyone else, an unspoken mutual agreement to be each others and only each others without putting any labels on it, besides its not like there’s anyone else alive that could ever tear them apart, come between them or even stand on the same level as them.
Suguru Geto.
The moment M/n and Satoru met Suguru their pedestal was forced to widen again.
They were confronted by another and they had mixed feelings about sharing.
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Okay so I was thinking of making this into an entire fic but im not sure.
I have a lot of ideas already, especially about the in depth relationship of the three of them and how they would function.
It would focus on M/n, Satoru and Suguru and how their relationship develops throughout the years in Jujutsu Tech and what would happen during the hidden inventory arc with M/n present and how he would affect the story.
There will be smut of course with Domtop Amab M/n and Subbot Satoru and Suguru .
Let me know if I should make a full on fic or just a smut with a bit of plot sprinkled in~!
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terry-perry · 17 days
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Hey, I see you're looking for Alastor request to write him better.
Could I get Alastor x F! Reader where they're constantly flirting with each other until someone shouts just kiss already which takes Alastor off guard enough for the reader to sweep in and kiss him, then as he kisses back she gets dragged off to is room. The rest from there is up to you :)
Inspired by the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald
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"Do you think I ought to bob my hair, Alastor?" Y/N asked the distinguished demon by her side as they shared a few drinks at the hotel's bar. Husk busied himself by wiping some glasses, refraining from rolling his eyes as the pair continued with this back-and-forth.
"I'd look rather darling with such a hairstyle, don't you think?"
"An absolute dream, my dear," Alastor responded, regarding her more intently than usual.
He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her was especially vivacious that night. Perhaps it was the way she seemed to make a bit of effort to be on his level for the dinner-dance the hotel was hosting to celebrate its grand re-opening. Like with many of the antics that go on in the place, Alastor stood passively by, subtly scaring those who came close to him.
Then he spotted her.
He liked how becoming the dark red dress she wore was and how It set off her unnaturally shadowy eyes. Let's not forget about the way her hair glistened so! It was almost like the stars were woven into it.
"You know, back when I was alive, having such a hairstyle would be considered immoral, sinful," Alastor remarked, shamelessly reaching out to twirl a few strands of her hair around his sharp nails. "It was a sure and easy way to attract certain attention."
She took in the way his eyes floated towards hers, but not before making their way up slowly from her legs. Had he been anyone else, she would've disregarded his remark with a brutal slap (perhaps with something worse if she were in the mood). But this was the Radio Demon she was speaking with.
She knew she had him right where she wanted him the moment she stepped in. If her attire hadn't drawn him in, then it was definitely all the attention she gathered from the other party guests who would offer to dance with her. Each one that would head her way with enthusiastic determination would have Alastor's eye twitch before he finally decided it was his turn to cut in.
After that, she was his and no one else's. After all no one would dare be stupid enough to steal the Radio Demon's dance partner.
"Well, it's a good thing we're in Hell then," Y/N said, going as far as laying a hand on the normally touch-aversed Alastor's knee. In this case, however, a glow settled almost imperceptibly over him.
Their eyes met completely, and they stopped talking entirely as they stared at each other. It wasn't until an irritated voice intruded on their space and made the glow fade away.
"For fuck's sake, will you two just get it on already?!" Angel Dust screeched from the Y/N's other side. "This was amusing for a while, but you've been dancing around each other all night. The party ended hours ago, and you still haven't even kissed yet."
An awkward silence followed this. Alastor looked at Angel, eye twitching once more. He wouldn't understand that a classy lady like Y/N deserved to be wooed properly. She's, no doubt, heard every practiced line known in this side of the Pentagram. And she certainly wouldn't react well to such bold actions like hot kisses and heavy petting.
Alastor opened his mouth to explain as much when Y/N grabbed a hold of his face and placed a big kiss on his lips. He would've been more shocked had it not felt like such blissful oblivion. It was better than any glass of rye he had ever drank. He kept a stronghold of her, his claws piercing the small of her back while his other hand took hold of her hair.
They eventually released one another, going back to looking at each other.
"Forgive me," she managed to say between heavy breaths. She kept her bold smile on as well as a tight grip on his lapel. "You've got an awfully kissable mouth."
And with that, the glow returned along with a desire to finish this upstairs.
"About fucking time," Husk uttered, watching with Angel the way Alastor dragged a giddy Y/N to his room.
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melodeebarnes · 4 months
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"Of course, I noticed"
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: It's your first Christmas with the Avengers, and you're nervous. Not everyone is big on the idea of a new teammate. They haven't been very good at remembering to include you. However, someone you least expected remembered.
Notes from Author: This is my first thing to write on here, and first written out fanfic ever. So, not sure how I feel about this. I started writing this at 2AM. So, we'll see.
*No mention of y/n*
It's currently 7:45AM, and you've just finished up wrapping the present you picked out for Wanda. You want to make sure everything is perfect.
It's you're first Christmas living in the compound and what happens today could determine how everyone thinks about you. You may be overreacting a bit...but what if you're not? Either way, your nerves are at their peak.
You take a deep breath, and grab all of the gifts you bought for everyone. You head down to the main living area, which holds the biggest Christmas tree in the compound. You delicately place each present underneath it, next to the other ones.
You follow the aroma of fresh hot coffee into the kitchen. You pass Wanda, who's flipping a pancake, humming to the Christmas music sounding from F.R.I.D.A.Y.
You grab your favorite mug, and quickly turn, eager for the first sip of coffee. Thankfully you got here just in time, as there isn't much left. You pour the rest of the steamy hot goodness into your cup.
You quickly doll in up, a little bit of cream, and a little bit of sugar. Just the way you like it. You take the first sip, and it's perfec-
"You've got to be kidding me." Bucky groans, causing everyone to turn their attention to him. Though, his eyes seem to be on you. "You just HAD to take the last of the coffee?"
Bucky. He's the person you knew you'd have the most trouble with today. He has never been fond of you. You thought he just needed some time to warm up to you, but even after months he still hates you. He made up his mind about you the first day, and won't change it.
"I'm sorry, there wasn't much left." You explain.
He scoffs, "So you think you can just come in here and take it? You have no right to-"
"Hey! What's the rule?" Wanda interrupts, immediately shutting him up. "No arguing on Christmas morning," she reminds.
He huffs out a sigh, glaring at you. "Whatever." He mutters.
"Here, I'll make another pot." Steve offers, being the peacemaker, he is. He looks back at you, giving a friendly smile.
Everyone sits down, eating their breakfast. There's a bit of banter between the group, but you just sit and listen. They're clearly more familiar with each other than they are with you.
They haven't made much effort to get to know you on a personal level, so you chose not to force it.
Tony walks in into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate. "Alright, now that I'm here we can start the real meaning of the gracious holiday."
You follow behind everyone to the black velvet couches and sit in the in the empty spot on the corner. Natasha passes out everyone's gifts to their recipient.
As you watch each gift get passed out, you notice how few of gifts you have, compared to everyone else. You have two gifts, one from Steve, and one with no name.
"Sorry, we're not used to you being here for Christmas." Bruce shrugs.
"Oh, no. It's fine. I totally understand" You try to hide the disappointment behind a smile, but there's no hiding the sadness' in your eyes. Though, no one cares enough to notice.
You try to brush it off and open the gifts you do have. Inside the gift from Steve is new training gloves. Your old ones were already beginning to wear out, your thankful to have new ones.
"Thank you, Steve."
"My pleaser." He smiles, warmly.
The second gift with no name, is a small box with a poorly tied bow. You sigh at the lack of effort. When you open it, you see a necklace with a diamond incrusted butterfly charm. It's the same one you saw at an antique store you went to when everyone was out shopping on a day off.
You figured no one was paying attention, but clearly someone was. "Wait, who is this from?" You ask, gently holding up the necklace.
Everyone either shrugs, or looks around looking for an answer to the same question.
"Well whoever it was, thank you so much." You're unable to stop smiling. You admire the beauty of the necklace.
A few hours later, you're back up in your room. You decided to leave the celebration early because you felt left out. It just seemed like it'd be best for everyone.
However, the sound of a knock, echos off your door.
"Who is it?" You raise your voice, in order for them to hear you. When there's no answer, you sigh getting up. You slowly open to door, to see Bucky standing on the other side, hands in pockets, and eyes avoiding yours.
"Uhm...may I help you?" You ask, confused.
"I just came to tell you, we're doing our annual Christmas movie night, in case you wanted to join." He mutters, looking off to the side.
"Trust me, no one wants me there."
"That's not tru-" He cuts himself off.
You furrow your brow, "What?" you ask.
"Did you not like the gift?" He asks, now looking at your neck, still bare with no jewelry.
"No, I loved it I just-" you got yourself off, suddenly putting the puzzle pieces together. "Wait, that was from you?" You question, taken aback.
"Uhm..yeah." He mutters.
"Why didn't you put a name on it?" You feel confused. Why would, Bucky, of all people be the one to get you the meaningful gift.
"Well, usually everyone can tell by the wrapping." He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm not the best at it, but I swear I try."
"Well, that is what matters." You laugh. "Wait, but how did you know?"
"When we were all out shopping, I saw the way your face lit up when you saw the necklace." He explains. "So, I assumed it'd be the perfect gift for you."
"I can't believe you noticed that."
"Of course, I noticed." He smiles at you for the first time ever.
You can't lie, seeing him smile did abrupt a few stray butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you, it must've cost a fortune."
He shakes his head. "The price isn't what matters. It's the thought that goes into the gift."
"I never thought I'd hear that coming out of your mouth." You laugh.
"Yeah, and if you tell anyone I'm gonna have to kill you." He jokes.
"Can't ruin your big bad wolf reputation, right?"
"Hey, it's white wolf." He corrects.
You put your hands up in defense. "My apologies."
"Wait, so why aren't you wearing the necklace?" He asks.
"I'm not great at putting on necklaces, and I didn't want to break or mess it up." You explain.
He nods in understanding, "Would you like me to help?" He asks.
"Sure, I would love your help." You smile, opening the door wide, inviting him inside.
He hesitantly walks in, immediately spotting the gift sitting in the poorly wrapped box. You smile, delicately taking it out and handing it to him. You turn around, watching him through the mirror.
He uses his flesh hand to gently brushes your hair out of the way, sending shivers down your spine. He brings the beautiful necklace in front of you, and you lift your hair up out while he clasps the chain.
You let your hair fall, but you both stand silently looking in the mirror. Suddenly he ends the silence by clearing his throat.
"It's beautiful, Bucky. Thank you."
"Call me Buck." He smiles, again.
"Really? But I thought you hated me."
"I don't hate you. Sometimes I'm just not great with new recruits, and I don't handle it the proper way." He looks away, embarrassed by the way he's been acting. "And I'm sorry for treating you so poorly these past few months."
"It's okay." You smile.
"Now come on, lets go down for movie night." He begins to walk out.
"But they probably don't want me there." You say.
"If they have anything to say, they'll have to deal with me." He warns. "Between me and you, they're all a little if not extremely scared of me." He laughs.
"Well then, this should be good." You smile, and follow him out.
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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I could be a better boyfriend —
Vox x Reader ,, 1.1k Words
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summary — Reader yells at Valentino for being an asshole to Vox, spiraling them into an argument that eventually causes feelings to come out.
warnings — angst-ish, Vox and Val being the worst, toxic relationships, mild sexual tension
a/n — I had a great time writing this, to be honest. Hope I didn’t make Vox seem to innocent. Just to clarify he’s also the worst and a manipulator, he’s just the worst and a manipulated who’s desperate for validation and deserves better.
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“Um, what the fuck was that?” Vox spat at you, after leading you into a different room. 
The two of you were in Val’s porn studio. You, only to see Vox, and Vox because, well, who knows why he would go to that god awful place unprompted. 
You didn’t want to start a fight with Val, but it was so easy when you saw how he treated people. Especially Vox. It got under your skin, how they affected each other.
It was so embarrassingly apparent to everyone that they were dysfunctional, and all Val did was stress Vox out with his useless bitching and overall toxic attitude 
“I know, he’s such a snobby dick. I can’t believe you hang around with that guy—“ You turn to face him and  realize it wasn’t Val he was talking about. 
Your chest swelled when a deep gust of anger overtook you. Not necessarily at Vox, but at his inability to understand how the situation escalated.
It started with normal flirting between the two, normal, obnoxious, terribly disgusting attempts at flirting. The word ‘attempt’ is used because calling it ‘flirting’ implies there were any undertones of romance.
However, unsurprisingly considering the current company, there was none. Val spoke only from his dick, and it was agonizing to watch.
Especially after the two inevitably started arguing because that’s what happens when they’re in each others company for too long. 
“Oh, come on, Vox. I’m the problem here?” You scoff and nod to the other room.
“Well, you did try to start a fight with a powerful overlord who’s, oh yeah, right, also my boyfriend,” Vox shouted, screen glitching out slightly. 
Still, you didn’t see error in your ways. You considered yourself a level-headed person, so when you lost your shit it really meant something. 
And, oh, it really did this time.
It was almost impossible to remember what Val had been bitching about on this ever-so joyous occasion. Something about Vox being in his space and crowding his area. ‘Fucking up his concentration,’ or something.
Of course, Vox fired back, and then Valentino, and so on. You almost rolled your eyes and left when Valentino had rose from his directors chair and started yelling at Vox like he had just committed the worst form of betrayal ever.
This time though, you could tell some of Valentinos words had gotten to Vox because, just for a second, his anger flickered into despair. It wasn’t noticeable, you were sure no one else picked up on it. After all, Vox would rather die than show vulnerability in front of a room full of pornstars. 
But before Vox had a chance to fire back, you had stepped in. Your face scrunched up recalling the moment.
“Vox, I was looking out for you, jesus christ. God forbid I help a friend stand up to his shitty, awful boyfriend,” your hands fly up in the air mockingly as you recount the events in your head.
You didn’t remember exactly what you said, just that you went off. You do, however remember leaving the studio speechless after your outburst. 
And Vox having to drag you away, with you still yelling at Val, in order to prevent a physical fight. That’s how you ended up here; a break room in a porn studio, being reprimanded for attempting to be a good friend.  How tragic.
“What makes you think you need to look out for me? I am well aware of Val’s—” he searched for the word, “—quirks. It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own, like I have been doing for the past decade, you asshole.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with it on your own,” you reasoned, voice still harsh and cold, “Maybe, if you were dating someone better—“
“Oh? Like who? Who would possibly ever—“
“Me, you fucking dumbass,” You yelled in a moment of thoughtless impulse. 
That shut him up fast. Whatever argument he was cooking up slowly faded away into a blank stare. 
The silence lasted too long. 
“What— what are you saying?” Vox inquired, quieter than before. His eyes searched yours, desperately wanting you to explain yourself.
“You deserve someone who would treat you better, Vox. Someone, well, preferably me.” You finish, stepping towards him.
“I could treat you better, so much better. And hell, if not me, please just choose anyone but Valentino. I can’t—“ You try to grab his hand but he steps back.
“How?” He looks at you, trying to stay composed but silently pleading with you for an answer.
“How, what?”
“How would you treat me better?” 
You simply look at him. His performative walls were slowly coming down. Or at least they will, depending on how you answer.
Still, you stay quiet for too long.
“Well, I wouldn’t yell at you for just being around me,” You try, but continue after realizing it wasn’t enough, “I’d listen to you, actually listen. Not just complain and expect unconditional comfort or support.”
That sparked his interest so you keep going. 
“I’d make you coffee when you work late, black, just how you like it. Oh, and I wouldn’t forget our anniversary, thats…fucked. I’d let you lean on my shoulder when you were tired and— and I’d take care of you when you bite off more than you could chew, work wise. I wouldn’t yell at you. Not too much, anyways. I’d compliment you and praise you, tell you how proud of you I am.”
You had inched closer and closer to him during this speech, until your bodies were practically pressed together.
His usual facade was almost completely gone, he looked needy, no desperate, miserably craving something from you. He didn’t know if he wanted to be fucked stupid, or hugged until he fell asleep.
“Well, I…” He tried, but unfortunately Vox’s charismatic demeanor wasn’t helping him here, “…I wasn’t aware you felt that way.”
Your hands fell on his cheeks, or more accurately where they would be, and caressed them gently.
His eyes fluttered shut out how gentle you were. His hands subconsciously flew to your hips to brace himself when he leaned in to kiss you.
You kissed back, harder, as if you’ve been waiting forever. Which, it felt like you had. His hands drifted up to pull you in by your shirt collar, deepening the kiss, as yours fell to rest on his chest. Eventually, they went you his back and pulled him closer to you than before.
The kiss was tender, sweet, but hungry and depraved. When you finally broke, neither of you spoke for a long time, still breathing heavily, foreheads almost pushed together.
“Why didn’t we—“ Vox panted, “—why didn’t we do that before?”
You laugh weakly. “So, what’s it gonna be?” You ask, “Me or Valentino?” 
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a/n — Probably gonna be the last fic of the night. I am SO tired. So sadly no railing Vox fic, like I hoped.
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sweetkpopmusings · 9 months
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how they feel before they know it's love with seventeen <3
a/n: i'm genuinely obsessed with "i don't understand but i luv u" like i have been listening nonstop since it dropped and i cannot get enough <333 i thought it'd be cute to do a lil post somewhat inspired by the song, so here it is !! i hope you find some comfort in the sweetness of these :,-) pics not mine~
content: fluff, sentimental and cute vibes only | wc: 2.6k | warnings: none really! | pairing: seventeen x gn!reader | requests: open
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seungcheol♡‧₊˚
seungcheol, as a leader, knows how to step back and support his members, even when it comes to holding back what he wants to say to let the others continue the excited conversation. with you, it was an entirely different story. it’s not that he ever spoke over you–he would never dream of such a thing–but he talked with you nonstop. there was an effortless exuberance in your conversations because he knew that you’d always listen to him. anything, truly anything, that popped into seungcheol’s head was something he wanted to share with you. sometimes he worried that he was annoying you with his endless chatter, but speaking his mind to you was instinctive. he wanted to share every one of his thoughts and perspectives with you because he wanted you to have all of him. every word he said to you was filled with a deep desire to share himself with you. the vulnerability that flowed through each conversation with you convinced him that maybe, just maybe, there were some important words he had not said to you yet. 
jeonghan♡‧₊˚
jeonghan’s an extremely caring person. everyone knows that about him, but his thoughtfulness towards you went to a whole different level. he thought of you first for everything. everything. he could be on tour and trying a new drink, and the first thing that would pop into his head is “y/n would love this drink.” he did not care that you were hundreds of miles away from him; at that moment, all he would want to do is send you the drink in his hand, so you could try it and then tell him what you think about it. he never realized thought of you constantly until one of his members–probably joshua–pointed out how he always said your name in conversations or bought two of everything just in case. jeonghan would never intentionally try to bring you up, nor was he aware of how he ended up with duplicates of small items. in truth, your name was always on the tip of his tongue, and you were always on his mind. one day soon, something else would be on the tip of his tongue when he said your name. 
joshua♡‧₊˚
joshua tried to play it cool, but he was fascinated by you as soon as he laid eyes on you. the nuances of how you speak, the gestures you make when you’re telling a story, and the way your favorite songs exposed the most important parts of you–shua was obsessed with memorizing each of these things. when something about you was engraved in his mind, he would show you he knew it by teasing you. his imitations or remarks were always spot on, but they clearly came from a place of fondness and attention. he teased you effortlessly with a soft smile and a sparkle in his eyes, something that made you melt each time. he wasn’t aware of the look on his face or the tone of his voice because the adoration came out so naturally when he was with you. if other people were around when shua poked fun at you, it was completely obvious to them what he was actually saying when he flawlessly imitated your facial expressions while telling a funny story from when you two went to a coffee shop over the weekend. even before either of you could put words to it, you could clearly feel the love behind every teasing jab.
junhui♡‧₊˚
junhui is so very unique, and that shines through in the way he treats you. from the moment he met you, he felt a very intense urge to make you smile. he thought about you constantly, and, one day while shopping around in a random city the day before a show, he found a small figurine that reminded him of you. he was so excited to give it to you that he couldn’t stop smiling every time he looked at it. from that point forward, he collected small trinkets and keepsakes for you, as a way to bring you a little burst of joy, even when he was away. sometimes he bought them, and other times he would just hold onto a sticker from a music shop you went to together, giving it to you when he was proud of you for a specific accomplishment. to junhui, it only made sense to write you a little note with your favorite jokes and hide it in your bag for whenever you had a bad day and needed a pick-me-up. through each thoughtful gift, it became clear that he wanted to give you the world, and junhui most certainly would, one snowglobe and ticket stub at a time. 
soonyoung♡‧₊˚
soonyoung always felt strongly about you, so he never really stopped to put an exact word to it. how he felt about and with you was something special, something only shared between you two. it was just the world you lived in together, and, in his mind, there was no reason to analyze his natural state of existence when it felt as wonderful as life did with you in it. one thing, however, that made his head feel light and his stomach feel frenzied was a new habit he developed after he met you. whenever he said something funny, even the smallest comment that made someone else laugh, he immediately had to tell you. he’d call you, send you a voice message, or rush over to you from across the room, just to tell you the story and repeat his silly little joke. soonyoung, from the first time he ever heard you laugh, knew that he needed to see that smile on your face and hear that sound fall from your lips every chance he got. he wasn’t quite sure what to call that. soon enough though, he’d figure out how to express his deepest feeling for you with words that weren’t tied to a punchline.
wonwoo♡‧₊˚
wonwoo always excelled at observing everyone and everything around him. after he met you, however, most of what he saw, heard, tasted, smelled, and touched made him think of you. everywhere he went, something reminded him of you, and he’d always smile. the shoes a stranger on the subway was wearing could be similar to a pair he saw you in the other week. maybe, in the back of the restaurant he ate at with friends after a long day of work, there was someone who ordered a drink he’d ordered for you a hundred times. no matter where he was, what he was doing, or whom he was with, wonwoo found something in his surroundings that tied him back to you. even when you two were together, you’d catch him smiling in a quiet moment. he’d brush it off, say “it’s nothing; i’m just happy to be here,” but, really, he’d want to say “the sound of the car horn made me think of that movie we watched together a few weeks ago, and every time i think of you i feel so comforted and happy, like nothing could ever go wrong.” he’d stay quiet, pondering what it truly meant to always find you in his surroundings regardless of the distance between you, and he’d squeeze your hand a little tighter as he discovered the answer.
jihoon♡‧₊˚
it was extremely easy for jihoon to find inspiration for his music from you. what he didn’t realize was that you left an indelible mark on his taste in music. whenever you two spent time together, he would give you the aux (literal or proverbial) because he was interested in what music made you happy, sad, want to dance, relax, etc. he listened very intently, and it took almost no time at all for the songs you introduced to him to make their way onto his playlists. more than that, he would frequently hum the melodies of songs you showed him as he walked around his place and cleaned. no one would ever point it out to him because they had no way of knowing that the new songs he obsessed over were all tied to you, but, eventually, jihoon realized that all the songs he associated with you were the only ones he ever had stuck in his head now. memories of you permanently embedded songs into his mind, a playlist only for him to listen to in the quiet moments of life. as he wrote lyrics that expressed this occurrence, he understood that it all came down to the fact he could never, and would never, get you out of his head. 
seokmin♡‧₊˚
seokmin was so fond of you, and he naturally expressed that fondness by giving you at least one thing to smile about each day. it started as a way to break the ice during conversations when you first got to know each other. once you two didn’t need icebreakers, the habit stayed, and seokmin’s habit became one of the strongest aspects of your relationship. seokmin never relied on anything fancy; he would send you a wholesome meme in the morning, so you could start your day smiling, or he would show you a funny video clip when you met up for dinner, starting the night off with a hefty dose of laughter. there was a sparkle in his eye when he laughed with you, one that only showed up when he saw your smile. he would be particularly proud if he made you laugh until tears fell or you smiled so big your cheeks hurt. whenever that happened, he would boast to his members, showing them the picture or video while beaming with excitement as he recounted your reaction. alongside his excitement toward your joy existed the fact that he couldn’t rest easy until he knew you had at least a little bit of serotonin in your day. truthfully, he never felt more at peace than when he was the source of that happiness, and he wanted to feel that for as long as humanly possible. 
mingyu♡‧₊˚
mingyu has a real presence. from his height to his goofy personality, people know when mingyu is around. those charms were how he caught your eye, and he always got an energy boost when you were around. as he grew closer to you, more comfortable, mingyu’s behavior revealed an even sweeter side of him. whenever he spoke with you, his voice was soft and careful, every word meant for you only. his looks always held you gently as he soaked up every word that you shared with him. any times jokes or teasing comments wove their way into your conversations, he laughed hard but quietly, just loud enough for you to hear, even leaning closer to you, enclosing the both of you in the joy of the moment. if you had physical contact with each other, mingyu’s touches were as soft as everything else about him. it was never out of the belief that you were fragile. rather, tenderness radiated from mingyu whenever he felt you near, and it enveloped his entire being when he looked at you. mingyu was always caring, always considerate, but his loved ones often commented that they had never seen him so soft before. mingyu knew, without knowing how to explain it quite yet, that you were the difference.
minghao♡‧₊˚
minghao values peace and quiet. life is chaotic for most people, and this was especially true for someone in his line of work. he tried, as best as he could, to create pockets of calm whenever and wherever he could, through meditation or simply waking up to watch the sunrise by himself. searching for that peace grounded him in his toughest times, and he depended on that calmness to get through it all. as he got to know you, searching for that peace became easier. minghao was calmer, knowing you were there, and he instantly relaxed whenever you were beside him. there was not anything specific that you did; you could just look at him, and his whole body would relax, proving just how stressed he had been mere seconds before he laid eyes on you. to minghao, you were the ultimate source of serenity. he never wanted to lean into clichés, but it was true that, even in a crowded room, he would know you were there by the way his heartbeat relaxed into a natural, happy rhythm. it didn’t take long for minghao to notice that you had this effect on him. it also wouldn’t be long before he admitted this, and something just as meaningful, to you.  
seungkwan♡‧₊˚
everyone knows seungkwan is an entertainer through and through. when you two were introduced to each other, he performed as well as he could to keep you laughing, and, unbeknownst to himself, to impress you. as time passed, however, he realized didn’t have to perform in front of you. he felt comfortable enough to be his most authentic self, and he only ever wanted to be his most authentic self with you. he still loved to do bits around you and be dramatic when the moment called for it, but he wanted to show you other sides of him too. for seungkwan, he felt a connection with and appreciation for you that could only be expressed by him letting his guard down. what mattered more than entertaining you was showing you every part of himself as honestly as humanly possible. showing up exactly how he was whenever he was with you was all he could think of because he always wanted to meet you exactly where you were. it wasn’t long after he realized this that his truest feelings toward you came out. it wasn’t something he thought of before he said it; it was something that slipped out when you asked him, “how was your day?” 
hansol♡‧₊˚
hansol’s mind is expansive. his perspectives reflect his astute introspection and deep compassion, and he would never cease to amaze–or entertain–those around him with the thoughts inside his head. to hansol, however, your mind was the most fascinating. he was deeply curious about the things that made up who you are: your hyperfixations, the dreams you had at night, your favorite snack for each time of day, etc. he was endlessly entranced by everything that colored your life. he wanted nothing more than to color his life with them too. this genuine interest meant that hansol’s eyes were filled with childlike wonder whenever you shared something about yourself with him. he committed every minute detail to memory, and he often retold anecdotes from your life during conversations with his friends. even to them, it was endearing to see his delighted laughter as he recounted stories of small social faux pas in your adolescence that became inside jokes between you two now. it was during one of those conversations, while smiling at the thought of you, that hansol started to uncover what influenced his infatuation with all things you.   
chan♡‧₊˚
chan took to you immediately. your personality charmed him, regardless of how charming you thought yourself to be. he couldn’t get enough of the conversations shared between you two, existential or lighthearted. chan genuinely wanted to talk to you as much as humanly possible–without annoying you or taking you away from the other people you cared about–and that’s why he started calling you whenever he was done with his schedules for the day. it could be the hardest practice of the year, but chan, drenched in sweat and barely able to walk, would light up the second you started to say “hello” on the phone. the sound of your voice literally put a pep in his step. he developed a liking to walking home, just so he had an excuse to talk to you for a long time without any interruptions. neither of you needed convincing, however, because everything flowed so seamlessly between you. chan didn’t know exactly how to tell you this, but, with you, he was eager to say even the simplest things until his voice gave out, just so he could keep on talking to you.
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actual-changeling · 5 months
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i think it's hard to understand the level of betrayal crowley must have felt, which leads to a lot of assumptions around him easily forgiving aziraphale or not being angry; so let's put ourselves into his position.
imagine: your partner, your best friend, the one person in the world that you love more than anyone else, asks you to change how you look, how you talk, who you are—so you can follow them back to an abusive household that threw you out and told you to never come back.
and they tell you that happy and excited and it's not even a question, it's a "by the way, we're doing that, isn't that great?"
you try to tell them no, it's not, i don't want to go back there, i like who i am now. they hurt me and scarred me for life, and they will do it again.
the person you loves, the person you thought loves you, looks at you and says "but you're bad. don't you want to be good? they can make you good."
come with me, you say. that house doesn't want us, we can have our own, we can build our own home. just the two of us, we don't need them, we're fine the way we are.
"i can change them" they say, as if you didn't try. as if you didn't try to change them first. as if that wasn't the reason they threw you to the wolves.
fuck it, you say. you confess your love anyway because they must know, right? they need to know. "don't leave me" you beg, plead, pray.
"oh," they respond, smiling. "nothing lasts forever."
you try to walk away, they stop you, they make it worse, make it clear they don't understand you like you thought. do they love you or the version of you they created in their head? you can't tell anymore.
"we could have been us," you say. we could have been happy.
you kiss them because you have to, because you will be damned twice over if you lose them without kissing them, because your patience snaps and you think you might die if you don't kiss them right now.
it doesn't change anything. "i forgive you"—for being me? for loving you? for refusing to tear myself apart? for kissing you? it's not like it matters. they're gone. you watch them leave.
would you immediately forgive them if they showed up on your doorstep? or would you be heartbroken and angry? you miss them, you still love them, but FUCK YOU. fuck you for demanding that of me. fuck you for everything you said. FUCK YOU FOR LEAVING.
six thousand years. six thousand years.
it would already be hard to forgive a person you have loved for two years or ten, and it gets worse the longer you know them. six thousand fucking years and aziraphale did that. we know why he did. we know how their story will end, but crowley doesn't.
all crowley has is aziraphale's speech and his face disappearing behind elevator doors. all crowley has is you're the bad guys and come with me and nothing lasts forever and i need you and i forgive you.
love alone does not and cannot fix that. aziraphale took six thousand years of trust and set them on fire with a smile on his face, and i understand the urge to try and find an explanation where he doesn't do that. where everything is secretly fine.
but there isn't.
aziraphale needs to rebuild that trust, he needs to earn it again. and mot importantly, he needs to understand why his words and actions broke it in the first place. but even then—even if crowley is the kindest possible version of himself and aziraphale does everything right—even then crowley would have every single right to say i don't forgive you. i love you and i understand you, we can be together, but i cannot forgive you for that and we both have to live with that now.
they will get their happy ending, i do truly believe that, but it might not be the fairy tale happily ever after you imagine and that's okay. it still counts. it's still good.
let crowley be angry and let them find their way back to each other, even if that path does not include forgiveness.
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cherienymphe · 10 months
Text
Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​
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➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”
You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.
That opportunity had long passed.
You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.
…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.
Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.
Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.
“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.
You’d shrugged.
“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.
Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.
“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”
That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.
It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.
Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.
You didn’t know how to feel about that either.
On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.
What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.
Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…
…and there were many times you worried that would be you.
As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.
“Hello, Peter.”
The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.
“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”
“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”
She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.
Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.
You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.
Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.
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“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”
Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.
It was your birthday?
You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.
The thought made you…sad.
This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.
Now…
Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”
You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.
“I shouldn’t be here…”
Realization hit Peter as he sighed.
“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”
“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.
You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.
“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”
Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.
“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”
You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.
“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.
You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.
Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.
You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.
Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.
“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”
You blinked, frowning a bit.
“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”
You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.
“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.
You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.
“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”
You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.
It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.
When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.
“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”
He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.
“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”
He rested his chin on the back of your hand.
“Just like I am every time I look at you…”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.
“You understand…?”
You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.
“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”
Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”
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You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.
The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.
You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.
You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.
Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.
…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.
The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.
You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.
“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”
“Sit down, Peggy.”
Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.
When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.
“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”
You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.
“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”
“Steve-.”
“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”
You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.
“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”
Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.
“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”
More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.
“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”
“Steve,” Margaret murmured.
“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”
With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.
“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”
You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.
“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”
The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.
“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”
Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.
The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.
Nothing about any of this was good.
You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.
“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”
Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.
“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”
“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”
“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”
You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.
“I want my mom,” you cried.
The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.
“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.
You pressed your lips together, looking away.
“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”
Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.
“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”
“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.
“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”
“Peter-.”
“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”
He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.
“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”
He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.
“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”
You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.
“…maybe it still can be…”
You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.
“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.
“Peter-.”
You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.
“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.
He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.
“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.
His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.
“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”
You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.
He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.
“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”
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powdermelonkeg · 4 months
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Gale of Waterdeep assorted headcanons:
He has photographic memory, hence his accuracy when recreating his tower during his last night
He was born during, and named for, a particularly bad storm that smacked into Waterdeep
He's 38 years old and 5'8" (173cm)
The Scroll of True Resurrection was his magnum opus, something he intended to use to bring back someone he cared deeply for, but with the orb, he was forced to repurpose it for his death protocol
He used to go on seasonal ventures with Tara. He'd be on the hunt for magical items and new knowledge, she'd be on the hunt for beholder jerky. It's where he got the stash of artifacts he had before the orb consumed them all
Is he a sorcerer? He'll tell you no. He's a very studied, very LEARNED wizard, thank you. He was casting Fireball, a 3rd level spell, at 8 years old. Of course, he could also fly at 8 years old, because that's also a 3rd level spell. That Storm Sorcerers can fly as a bonus action after spellcasting is mere coincidence.
He and his mother greet each other with a peck on each cheek and a hug
His previous romantic ventures, before Mystra, always fell apart at his magic. He'd be grand and impress them every which way, they'd ask what else he could do and want more, and he'd launch into whole lectures about the craft. It would always peter out about then; either they always wanted him to one-up himself, or they got bored of his studies and frustrated with his focus on them. Mystra was the first that felt like true love to him because she fell into neither of these pitfalls—but the absence of expectation made him nervous and lit a fire under his ambition, because how could he ever be enough?
He has his mother's eyes and hair, but his father's smile and jawline
He knows how to deal with panic attacks, not because he himself is often subject to them, but because his magical shenanigans when he was young often sent the housekeeper into a state, and he felt bad about it. Particularly after the magma mephit incident burned a hole in the carpet. His own first panic attack was just after he got the orb; Tara sat on his lap and purred like a motor to help calm him down
The man is demi. He has to believe there's a hint of interest in him in order to start seeing the attractive parts of another. Because of that, he thinks "smash or pass" style conversations to be pointless and trite. Of course, he reads into things too much, so he might THINK there's a spark of interest in him before there actually is one and react accordingly
He gets his articulate vocabulary and speech patterns from his time in the Blackstaff Academy, his tendency for jokes and his wild gesticulation from his father, and both his proud and romantic outlook from his mother. His wonder for the world around him has always been in his heart, ever since he began playing with magic
He and his father generally got along, but they had a series of arguments when Mystra came into the picture. Well-intended, civil arguments, none that ever ended in shouting or anything; more a quiet damage of disapproval that left Gale frustrated and feeling like his family didn't understand how great an interaction like he'd earned was
His father died in a carriage accident shortly after Gale moved into his own place. Gale had been trying to make a scroll of True Resurrection to get him back, but...well...
With the orb, statistically speaking, Gale should have gone to Laeral Silverhand about his artifact problem. With his search for "elder wizards" to address his condition with when you talk to him, as well as her ability to CREATE magical artifacts, she seems the best solution. But he hasn't gone to her, nor Vajra, the current Blackstaff of Waterdeep, because he was afraid that if they learned of his condition, he'd be evicted from Waterdeep for the rest of the city's safety (to speak nothing of how much it would hurt to see their disappointment in him)
On that same note, the reason he (according to Tara) left without so much as a note was that he'd gotten an impulsive decision to go to Silverymoon and ask help of Lord Methrammar Aerasumé, Alustriel Silverhand's son. And that's why he was in Yartar when the Nautiloid attacked
On the whole "who meddled first, Mystra or Elminster" topic: Mystra was alive but severely weakened, believed dead until she revealed herself to Elminster. As her Chosen, she'd have known his whereabouts; Elminster interacted with Gale when he was 8, and that's when Mystra became acutely aware of Gale's existence and began interacting with him, BEFORE she began speaking with Elminster (hence Gale's line about "she revealed herself to me")
Same note, when Mystra first appeared to Gale, it was as a child his age. Equal parts enamored with this prodigy who held innate understanding of her Weave, and "keep your enemies close" in regards to caution around where he could lead himself unguided
Their romantic interactions began after she came back to her power in full, though. I fully believe that she paid him the time of day in that regard because she could sense his love for her through the Weave, like how he can sense your intentions during his magic lessons. It was a moment of opportunity, both to indulge herself and to weave (heh) herself further into his future
The Blackstaff Academy gave quarterstaff self defense lessons. Gale was never particularly GOOD at it, but it got him enough to get by. Between that and the various staircases in his tower are why he's built the way he is
He's confident in his appearance, but very conscious of showing too much skin; he doesn't like feeling exposed, hence his camp outfit being as conservative as it is
He can make something palatable out of just about anything, but his cooking style prioritizes flavor WAY over health. Everything is fluffy and delicious and well-seasoned, and also drowned in garlic butter and cream sauces
Despite this, he's a picky eater on his own terms. Give him shelf-stable rations, he'll find some way to make a meal out of the parts he likes, then avoid the rest. Absolutely eats all the M&Ms out of the trail mix
What he drinks depends on his setting. At the bar? Waterdeep whiskey on the rocks. Romantic setting? Arabellan dry wine. Pleasant company to chat with? Tea. Late night studies? Coffee with a stirring of cinnamon. His wedding? Neverwinter ice wine
Besides Mystra, the deities he pays most attention to are Oghma, Sune, Azuth, and Lliira. His patronage at the House of Beauty in Waterdeep is one constant that's never been shaken by his studies
Sometimes, he pretends to be dramatic in the mirror: Doth thy mirror crack? (Thanks for the research, @galedekarios!)
Fully believe Wash My Pain Away to be his personal theme song, independent of the tadpole events
Despite owning a piano, he doesn't actually play it; there's a reason he's spelled it to play songs for him
He was born in late spring, and the season is one of his favorite subjects of poetry
He has sincere potential to be the next Blackstaff: THAT entered his deck of cards when it let him wield it back at the academy
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mixtape-racha · 8 months
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enough for you | poly!ot8 (9th member reader)
dating the members of your band was both a blessing and a curse... especially when you had to hide your changes in behaviour from them
words: 3.21k // warnings: established relationship, poly!skz x reader, reader is put on a diet and workout plan, lack of eating, reader takens caffeine pills, overworking, overexercising, reader passes out, the boys get angry (not at reader)
a/n: i am NOT trying to glorify undereating and/or overworking yourself in ANY way, but if you struggle with food-related topics or suffer from an ED please do not read this fic as i don't want to trigger you in any way // based on this request
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you bowed your head with a small - and extremely undeserving - smile as you said your goodbyes to the staff and left your meeting. solo meetings with the staff at jype were always worrying, but this time you wished you had forced one of the boys to come with you.
you had a huge year ahead of you; your comeback being one of the most anticipated of the year on twitter, before your japanese comeback, and then further embarking on a tour. really, you and the boys were enjoying all the free time you had before the workload became overbearing - which none of you could deny it was, despite how much you loved your jobs.
but to then be sat down and given a whole new diet and gym plan? on top of everything else, it was…. hurtful. you were always a little self-conscious of your weight - being the only girl in a group with 8 boys, anything you did or changed stuck out like a sore thumb. but as far as you knew, you were fine. your weight had sat steady since the last comeback, and you were always careful with what you ate and how you worked out.
shaking it off as your manager put a comforting hand on your arm and helped you out of the building to your awaiting car, you assumed that something had changed if the company felt they had to step in. you just hoped the boys hadn’t noticed, and if they had they weren’t talking about it behind your back. 
it was a silly thing to worry about, obviously. your boys only ever wanted what was best for you, and you knew that. merely 2 years after your debut, you had all begun understanding each other on a deeper level, and - under chan’s demand - very, very slowly it led to romantic connections establishing between you all. and now here you are, in one of the biggest kpop groups in the world, working and living and thriving with your 8 boyfriends in one harmonious polycule.
during the drive back to the dorm, your manager was kind enough to let you brood in your silence - he understood all too well that you were bombarded with a lot of information to process during the meeting, especially when your small hands started flicking through the folder you were given. a strict meal plan - every meal and snack planned out to the last gram with no room to move. an exact workout guide - how on earth you were going to do this without changbin noticing something was up in the gym, you had no clue. you just prayed that their busy schedules leading up to comeback season were enough for you to keep this from them - the last thing they needed right now was to worry about you too.
when you finally arrived back at the dorm, you were instantly wrapped into a tight hug by a pouting jisung. you giggled softly as he complained about losing mario kart to felix - again - and how he owed jeongin $100 because felix beat seungmin too. he kept mumbling his complaints into your neck as you waddled to the living room, the sight of the maknae line bickering and throwing popcorn at each other being a wholesome and beautiful sight to come home to.
jisung finally released you from his hold, allowing you to squeeze yourself onto the couch between seungmin and jeongin, the latter instantly throwing an arm around your shoulders as seungmin looked over at you, a smile painted on his lips.
“how did the meeting go? we were trying to figure out why they’d call a solo meeting with you, but none of us worked it out.” he asked softly, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before handing his controller back over to jisung. you weren’t entirely sure how to respond, thinking of an excuse on the spot.
“oh, yeah it went fine. they were just checking what parts of the comeback schedules lined up with my period - after last comeback, they want to try and make that week as easy as possible for me.” you shrugged, knowing the boys wouldn’t ask more questions when it came to that time of the month.
its not like they were disgusted or anything. in fact, they were the most helpful and understanding boyfriends you could ask for. they just never pried, never dug for more information than you seemed comfortable with sharing, and you were grateful for that. especially as you lied. if they asked questions, you were sure you would crumble and tell them the truth. for now, it was just easier to ignore it and join them playing video games.
dinner time that night was your first exceptional challenge. after studying your diet plan in your bedroom, it was suggested that you have a vegetable salad with plain chicken breast and a small portion of sweet potato. it seemed boring and bland, especially with the other meals you were expected to follow. usually, you would follow the boys around the kitchen and see what they were having for dinner - then helping one of them make a larger portion so you could share and eat together. it was so normalized at this point, you’d typically get asked teasingly which member’s meal you’d be planning to hijack that night.
so, of course, when you headed to the kitchen silently and began preparing a completely different meal, a few eyebrows were raised, although thankfully no one asked any questions. they just simply assumed you had a specific craving that night that you wanted to indulge in. truthfully, as much as you wanted to eat your meal in the company of your boyfriends, discussing your days and giggling together, you were deeply embarrassed by the fact the company had put you on your diet plan. so regretfully, you skulked back into your bedroom with your dismal meal and ate in the comfort of your bed with a disney movie playing in the background.
the next morning, you woke yourself up at what felt like the ass-crack of dawn to head down to the company gym. you stuffed everything you’d need for the day into a backpack, silently leaving the door and enjoying the quiet of the early morning during your walk to the company building. the lack of noise and movement in the world was nice, feeling like it had washed away all of your worries almost instantly. every time you saw a stray cat, or a funny street sign, you’d snap a picture to send to your group chat with the boys.
you allowed yourself to send a couple of animal pictures to the chat, assuming the boys would be asleep, and when they woke, wouldn’t notice or question the times that you had sent the pictures. of course, that was a misjudgement on your part, because when the hell did chan ever sleep? as you approached the gym doors, your phone dinged and your heart squeezed at his message.
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lying to your boyfriends in any way made you feel sick to your stomach, but deep down you just didn’t want them worrying about you. luckily, your workout went relatively easily - you were quite active and partook in gym activity frequently so it was simply like a higher intensity session for you.
after you had showered and left the gym, you headed down to the company cafeteria for breakfast. your meal plan stated that your breakfast for the day should be a small portion of mandu dumplings and a pineapple and kale smoothie. you savored the food as much as you could with each bite, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get a chance to eat again until the later evening. your schedule was packed, practices upon practices before your evening workout, and as much as you loved your job, you knew wholeheartedly how much the company liked to overwork you leading up to comeback season.
practice seemed to drag that day, your vocal teacher questioning if you were feeling unwell because your energy just seemed completely off during your session together. you shrugged her off, insisting you were just tired, but in reality you were overthinking every single moment of the day. between the lack of food, and ache from overworking yourself in the gym that morning, you just felt exhausted - both physically and mentally.
after you finished all your scheduled plans for the day, you decided to head to the company cafeteria for dinner - it was easier than going home and then heading back out to the gym, in all honesty. you tried your hardest not to finish your allocated meal, thinking if you left food on your plate that you’d feel more accomplished. however, as soon as you got to the gym and began your evening workout, you knew leaving food was a bad idea. nonetheless, you pushed through the achy joints and growling stomach, even beating your current personal best on the stairmaster before you ended your session.
the stress of needing to be a certain weight before your next solo meeting before the comeback had you stressed and pushing yourself harder than you should, so you opted to walk back to the dorms that night rather than calling a car. the next few days were similar - the ache, and fatigue, and sick feeling in the pit of your stomach as you forced yourself into work. staying at the company later, working out at any free time you had, sleeping as soon as you got home without even acknowledging the boys you shared a dorm with. they had slowly started noticing, of course, but it wasn’t until exactly a week after your meeting that things all came to a head.
you had finally noticed in the mirror that morning that you had lost weight - your clothes weren’t fitting how they usually did, and you weren’t even hungry most of the day. the gym had become your best friend, and working out had become so much easier. sure, the fatigue and lightheadedness was slightly concerning, but in your opinion it was worth it to keep your job.
that day, you were scheduled to have a whole-group dance practice in the evening before you all headed home, which the boys were excited for because it meant they could travel home with you for the first time in a week straight. you, on the other hand, were slightly annoyed you couldn’t just sneak off to the gym or make an excuse to stay at the company longer. that day you’d opted to skip breakfast - the idea of eating before a day of work making you nauseous - and instead had chugged an energy drink and some caffeine pills along with your morning vitamins. work was boring, and all day you were itching to just up and head to the gym, or just go on a long walk, but you couldn’t. you were stuck between rooms in the company, and it was honestly stressing you out.
by the time it got to the evening, and you and the boys all met up for dance practice, you were instantly scooped into a hug by hyunjin, giggling as his hair tickled your skin.
“finally! missed you so much, pretty girl. feels like i haven’t seen you for more than 30 seconds lately.” he mumbled against the skin of your neck, the sensation making you shiver.
“don’t be silly, hyun,” you grinned as you pulled away to help him tie his hair into a ponytail. “i’m right here now, not going anywhere.”
practice started pretty quickly after that, considering jisung was running late after vocal lessons, and you quickly realized that not eating that day may not have been your best idea. the haste of your movements had your head spinning more than usual, and you felt like you were tripping over your own feet every two seconds. you couldn’t sworn you were moving in slow motion with everything around you sped up, and no matter how much you tried to shake the feelings off, it wouldn’t leave.
you stepped forward through a wave of your boyfriends, fighting to keep your eyes ahead and complete your center dance for the bridge in the song, but it was to no avail. your heart thudded and you internally cried as you felt your body collapse to the ground, black dots circling your vision and your ears ringing loudly.
the thud your body hit the ground with was sickening to the boys who looked on, minho rushing over to try and catch you since he was the closest. they were fast to carry you to the couch in the corner on the practice room, seungmin practically sprinting out of the room to get you cold water and ice from the cooler in the hallway. of course, they knew you had been acting strange, but they never realized it was something so big or detrimental to your health - both physical and mental.
“she feels lighter… god, how did we not notice she’s lost so much weight?” felix practically wailed, his eyes brimming with tears at the sight of you sickly pale and unconscious in his arms.
“when was the last time someone saw her eat?” changbin quizzed, his frown only growing as jeongin piped up.
“forget that for now, when was the last time she had a drink?”
seungmin had reentered the room by that point, a cup of ice and a separate cup of water in each hand. felix had his hands in your hair, fingers tangled between the locks as he stroked your head soothingly. chan had crouched in front of you, cupping your cheek and softly rubbing the skin with his thumb in an effort to gently wake you up.
when consciousness did finally grace you again, you groaned. your head was pounding and you felt gross, and sticky. you tried to sit up, surprised when felix pulled you back down to lean on him from behind you. it was only then that you looked around and took in the worried faces of your boyfriends and bandmates, instantly flushing red in shame that you disrupted practice.
“i’m so sorry–” was all that managed to escape your lips before seungmin held out the cup of water in front of you, swiftly cutting you off.
“drink. we’ve got ice, too, and jisung has a protein bar in his bag that you’re eating, okay?”
you blanched at his words, sipping the water while carefully trying to decide your next words.
“i appreciate it, but i’m fine. i don’t need to wait, i just need some water and i’ll be fine.”
yeah, that sounded good in your head. not too many details, but enough for them to hopefully drop it - at least, you hoped. but unfortunately, the universe didn’t want to work in your favor that day, as you eyes fell on chan and his worried - but stern - face.
“(y/n)...” he started, and your heart dropped at how exhausted and scared he sounded. “what’s going on? when’s the last time you ate? and don’t lie to me, please.”
you sighed, looking around the room and accepting that the game was up. you just hoped they would understand, and they wouldn’t be mad at you. it was bad enough that disrupted practice, you couldn’t handle your boys being disappointed with you too.
“i…” even just looking around the room at the scared faces of your boyfriends, all ideas of lying slipped away from you. “yesterday lunch time. i had a chicken salad…”
you looked at the floor, too scared to face their disappointed stares as you felt felix’s hand shift from your hair to your shoulder. tears were welling under your eyelids no matter how hard you tried to blink them away, and you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.
“love,” changbin asked softly for his position on the floor next to chan. “is this why you’ve been going to the gym so much? why are you doing this to yourself?”
you shook your head unable to reply, as you felt chan’s hand on your knee.
“we’re just worried, pretty girl. ther’s no need for you to be doing this to yourself, you know that, right?”
you couldn’t help the way you groaned loudly, all your recent frustration pouring out in that moment. it was like a dam had broken, and you couldn’t stop yourself.
“it’s not me! i don’t want this. it hurts and it sucks. it’s– it’s not me.”
“can you elaborate, angel?” felix asked softly, his breath tickling your ear from his proximity to you.
“it’s…” you sighed, knowing that if you didn’t tell them now, then you never would. “it’s the company. that meeting, last week i– they gave me a diet plan. told me i needed to lose weight before the comeback. i just didn’t want to let anyone down…”
your voice slowly trailed off as you gained the confidence to look up, meeting the distraught expressions of your boyfriends. shock, disgust… anger…. you weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment. really, you tuned out everything that was going on around you, sipping your water in hopes of combatting the thudding in your head.
it was only when jeongin crouched in front of you with his signature smile plastered on his lips that you came back to reality. he hed out his hands to you, helping you stand, as everyone packed their belongings up.
“we’re gonna head home, okay? order in some food and have a movie night, if you want that?”
your eyes leaked again at their concern, the group of you leaving the practice room and headed down to the company lobby. “i’d love that, innie… but where are chan and minho going? aren’t they coming home with us?”
he shook his head as the rest of the members, along with yourself, headed out to the cars waiting for you outside the building.
“they’ll be right home - they’re just going to talk to the staff… make some ‘arrangements’, as channie-hyung worded it.”
you were too tired and mentally exhausted to ask any further questions, allowing the boys to bundle you into the car without a fight. when you finally got back to the dorm, felix and jeongin helped you shower, before you met changbin in the bedroom to help you get dried and dressed for bed.
by the time you got back into the living room, chan and minho had arrived home, but they wouldn’t answer any of your questions - opting to give you the television remote instead as they placed bags of takeout food onto the coffee table.
and thats how you spent the night; curled up on the couch with your favourite boys, enjoying takeout and watching movies. it was perfect, and you couldn’t believe you allowed the words of staff members to take this feeling away from you.
--------------------------------------
oh, and you later found out chan and minho had gone into a meeting room all guns blazing, threatening to sue if the company risked your health the way they did ever again. you were never put on another diet plan after that, and used your experience to speak out about the mistreatment of idols due to unobtainable beauty standards. life was good.
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omegalomania · 1 year
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the full apple music interview with zane lowe is out! we got snippets of it when love from the other side dropped, but they finally rolled out the full thing. here are some highlights that stood out to me :)
patrick describes pete's lyrics as what gets him out of bed in the morning. if pete doesn't send him lyrics, he doesn't write a song.
andy and pete used to draw fake snake tattoos on each other using magic markers as kids omg?
so evidently patrick was the one who got covid during hella mega tour. and he hated it and he was miserable and that's when he called neal avron about the new record lmao
patrick says that joe was hesitant at first and he was the one who said that for this record he wanted to make something that they could all savor and spend time on and patrick was immediately on board with that
pete says patrick's job is to interpret him because pete calls his mentality a "little bit off" but patrick is capable of understanding him and translating it
patrick describes his and pete's creative relationship as "twin speak." it's not linear and it's like living in his brain a little bit. he calls it the "weirdest thing i've ever seen" when pete can just Tell that some words that patrick adjusted weren't ones he wrote despite not remembering writing them. patrick says he's gotten better at connective tissue and knowing how pete would say things
pete: back in the day patrick was like, "what's the difference between cry and weep i will KILL YOU. THEY'RE THE SAME THING. I'M GONNA KILL YOU RIGHT NOW."
zane says patrick's vocals are next level for this album. pete agrees that he kills it on this album and said he never would've expected that voice coming from him when they first met. zane says patrick could sing a recipe and it would be good. he then passes patrick a recipe and patrick. sings it???
patrick: i'm not gonna belt it. (starts belting) NINE INCH PIE PLATE ROLLING PIN
patrick says that pete doesn't mean to have rhythm to his words but there's a rhythm to them all the same and patrick can find this syncopation in his words and thinks it's amazing
more talking about patrick and pete's Magical Mystical Transcendent Soul Bond. patrick says "if we were one guy, we'd be an INCREDIBLE DUDE"
patrick and pete say that interviews with all four of them are hard because it's chaos and everyone's talking at once but it all makes perfect sense to them and no one else. zane says that sounds like fun flkjdfd [i agree please do this more it's a joy]
pete says joe really stepped up and wrote a lot for this record!
patrick: "joe is kind of a conundrum because he's this really talented...he's a brilliant writer, a brilliant player, but pete and i became the "team" and it wasn't really a plan, but that's just kind of how it happened. [brief tangent about the hiatus] we come back from the thing and joe is this fully-formed writer with a very distinct - he has one of the most distinctive writing voices. when i hear his parts, when i hear his ideas, i could pick them out of a crowd. like i know the way joe writes, and it's VERY joe." part of the process with post-hiatus was integrating him into the writing process more.
discussing the hiatus and fame and pete says his life kind of "blew up" and took it pretty hard. apparently during production for folie paparazzi actually broke down the gate to neal avron's house
patrick goes on a big tangent about how bad things got during the height of pete's fame. "part of my role is to tell his story. i'm a composer. that's what i like to do. i work on movies, i work on shows, and i work on pete. pete has a story that needs music, and if he's removed from himself, if he's not even able to access himself because he's behind all of this stuff, i don't have a story! so not only did i not have my buddy, which was heartbreaking in its own way, but then i also don't have a purpose as an artist."
patrick says that andy is always ready to play but when you get him happy to play, it's another level
"and trohman, there were these moments where he...he got so excited."
patrick describes writing what a time to be alive as wanting to write the saddest, most desperate song you could hear at a wedding. pete bursts into laughter and calls it "so twisted"
talking about other endeavors outside the band - patrick talks about composing and said joe's been super busy with his book and writing for tv and because there are so many deadlines for stuff like that, it's what hammered home to him that fall out boy needs to not be that. "there's something special about this that can't be...this has to be passionate and art."
discussing how scared patrick was of his own voice while the band took off. patrick was really scared of the song saturday at first because there are some really exposed vocal moments. he describes saturday as a song where everyone in the band lets each other go for it.
zane calls fall out boy the "emo blueprint" and says they were unapologetic in being emotional. patrick immediately says, "that was pete. i don't think we could've done that without him." he and joe were basically kids and patrick was too anxious to talk on stage.
zane says, "i remember interviewing you in the early days and i felt like every time i asked you a question i was bullying you." pete IMMEDIATELY loses his shit.
"in another life where i didn't have a pete...cause saturday, i did write most of that by myself...so there's a world where that song exists without the band. there's no world where i sing it in front of people without pete."
pete says every night before they put out a new song he calls patrick up and gets really scared and wants to back out and patrick talks him down every time
they talk about how scary it was when arm's race released and performing it at the amas. patrick starts laughing rly hard as they get into how there were giant crickets on stage and the crowd was just stone-faced and utterly nonresponsive and their stage manager was utterly panicked
towards the end patrick really loosens up and starts swearing more dlkfjdfd
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