#// in summary: need more icons of existing muses

[hes-writer]

Halo

Summary: y/n feels guilty for missing harry

Warnings: angst, slight fluff, mentions of vomiting and nausea, mentions of implied smut

Word Count: 7648 words

A/N: @devilinbetweenthesheet-s : don’t cheat and don’t do drugs, kids.

inspired by one of my anons. some parts are real and some parts aren’t :)

Tarnish (1)  .  Halo (2) .  Reign (3) . 

Reign Taglist 

___

When the relationship ended, Y/N imagined being bed-ridden. A lack of motivation to do anything casual such as standing. Watching the television seemed to be a task that required all of her energy and full-attention to be able to understand the subtitles on the screen. Her friends would knock continuously on her door to be met with no response because she was asleep or Y/N couldn’t be bothered with pitiful conversation asking her if she was okay. She would be too tempted to ask how Harry was doing when she could easily pull out her phone and search his name in a few quick taps. These used to be easy; as easy as breathing and loving Harry was easier than loving herself.

How was he doing? Y/N hoped that Harry was regretting his actions. She was yearning for the vibration of her phone to restart her heart like an AED stuck to her chest, sending her pulses to remember that they were not what they used to be. Or maybe the snippy ringtone Y/N had set specifically for him and only him would ring through the air as she wallowed in a burrito blanket. Frankly too emotionally worn out to even move an inch as she watched her phone face down on the bedside table of her new apartment.

Life doesn’t wait until Y/N is capable of being back on her feet before thundering down with the foundations of living. Five days into the breakup did she realize that the money she had saved up would be spent faster than she can replace it if she stayed any longer at the hotel near the heart of downtown. It was a spur of the moment decision to ‘treat herself’; she thought she deserved it after being called names and thrown aside like a used toy. And on the fifth day, she was on the lookout for places to live in as she adjusted to her new life without Harry.

It wasn’t like Y/N was completely dependent on him. She had a well-paying job; just not as good as his. And she could afford a nice apartment, just not as nice as his mansion. Nor did it have the same toasty feeling that enveloped her when she walked through the doors. Y/N told herself that she would give it a few months; that maybe it was just the change in setting that misplaced every bone in her body because everything she did felt off. Deep down, Y/N knew that things weren’t the same without him. She could either live a life reminiscing how she--they--used to do things or she could change and adapt to this ball thrown at her.

The decision was in her hands, yet she hesitated with every gambling thought crossing her mind. On one hand, she was used to a routine. It was a routine that never got boring to her, solely because Harry found a way to make things interesting; refreshing. On the other, Y/N would be in a never-ending comparison of how much she missed him or pat her shoulders because she was able to compromise the old parts of her that existed when Harry was around and to integrate it with a new version that was wary of anybody getting close to her.

The challenge was not easy when the media got hold of the news. It seemed as if everywhere Y/N went---mixed reactions and judgement attacked her with doe eyes offering the best of luck or disgusted snickers telling that she deserved it and that they--Camille and Harry--were perfect for each other. But when Y/N quite literally was carrying a piece of him and her inside her stomach did she step up to what she had to become to raise her baby.

It seemed like yesterday when Y/N stared at her reflection in the en-suite bathroom of Harry’s home, pinching at a subtle layer of fat that she was sure wasn’t there a few days ago. Bloated cheeks that added a fullness to her face were substituted as the result of a bright smile plastered on her face because she Harry had pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before she left for work that day. The sudden aversion to fragrant foods she absolutely adored flew right over her head and excused as a bad batch.

And the most painful memory was the day Harry and Y/N’s relationship ended. The beginning of something new, something beautiful was right under their noses. Y/N wondered what could have happened if she didn’t find the letter. When the symptoms of pregnancy became more obvious each day; would Harry notice the change in her physique? The crinkle of her nose when met with a sandwich containing pickles that she used to love?

Y/N couldn’t help but envision holding the stick with a tiny ‘+’ pixelated by dark colours. Sitting on the closed toilet seat as she contemplated delivering the news to him in the early hours of the morning after she was awoken by a flush of morning sickness. Y/N daydreamed about watching his sleeping face smooth out of any lines as he dreamed peacefully and wondered if this was still a part of what he wanted with her. Maybe she would jostle him gently, rousing him with a poke as she kneeled on his side of the bed, flailing the pregnancy test between her fingers until he blinked the sleep out of his waterline. Harry would present her a doozy smile before realizing what she held--to which he would sit up faster than he had ever done, gazing at her with a pleading stare. For Y/N to confirm that yes, she was pregnant. Yes, they were going to have a baby and yes, Harry was going to be a father. A little family in the works.

But that daydream was reeled in like a fishing hook in grave waters as reality grounded her. She was apparently two months into her pregnancy when Y/N had mistaken the sickness as an inevitable reaction to finding out his infidelity. Hearing him say the term of endearment as if he had not used it with another person made Y/N want to grab him by the shoulders to hold a steady contact, jostling him until answers spilled out of his mouth. Answers that Y/N deemed justifiable but was there ever a good excuse for cheating? She wanted to strip him out of the apologies filling his mouth and get straight to the question of why he had done it. But even then, Y/N knew that there was no way she was going to be satisfied with his answers. It was just a matter of her accepting that the idea of ‘what could have been’ would live inside her head because she was the only one that knew about the life inside of her.

Harry had not made an effort to speak to her besides arranging the dates to pick up her things. She had to wear large clothes to hide her growing belly because Y/N wasn’t sure if she even had the right to tell him something so personal anymore. It fit well with the narrative that she was a depressed homebody that craved the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his lips on her tongue and the weight of his arms around her. Albeit that he was the father, Harry had obviously moved on way before they ended; a little over a year ago now to be precise.

Y/N was almost one-hundred percent sure that Harry had blocked her number. Scratch that, she was certain if the way her messages failed to send were anything to go by. She could handle seeing the handle of ‘read’ on the bottom of a message because at least she’d know that Harry did read it and that he was aware. But watching the encircled, crimson exclamation point appear was just another reminder that he planned to erase four years from his life to start anew.

____

So what if at four months, Y/N was attending another doctor’s appointment by herself, trying to amount to as little attention as possible? Well, today was the day that she was going to find out the baby’s gender. Her bump was definitely noticeable now and extremely uncomfortable especially sitting on a plastic, grey chair in the waiting room. The device in her hand felt like stone perceiving the icon of blaring red that indicated yet another failed message to the contact previously named ‘My Love’, now to just ‘Harry’.

Y/N: I’m finding out the gender of our baby today

Y/N: I’m hoping for a girl but either way, I just want the baby to be healthy.

“Y/N? Dr. O’Sullivan is ready to see you,” The nurse clad in scrubs walked out with a clipboard gripped in her hands.

Y/N stood up, pausing to retrieve her items. She took a breath before entering the room, catching sight of the doctor in his stereotypical white coat focused on the computer screen that showed her information.

“You know what to do. Good luck today,” The nurse mused, handing her a folded hospital gown to change into as she pointed towards the direction of the room with a little nook to change privately. After struggling a bit with pulling off her top, Y/N tied the strings of the hospital gown.

“Hi, Y/N. How are you today?” He asked, standing up to gather the items he would need. Y/N made herself comfortable on the small bed, the white paper crinkling as her weight shifted.

She sighed deeply, “I’m alright. Really excited, actually,” A grin appeared on her face with just how close she was to find out the gender of the baby, “How about you?”

“Good as always,”

Connor O’Sullivan was the name of the doctor. They met when Y/N was in search of the top-tier family doctor’s around the city and instantly had a connection. He had a trustworthy aura that Y/N deemed acceptable to guide her to a healthy pregnancy. A friendship had definitely blossomed around the doctor-patient boundary but they stayed within their limits. Inside jokes existed but it had never crossed the line. And sure, touches to the shoulder happened once in a while but nothing had escalated further.

Y/N’s baby bump was exposed to the cool room. She shivered when a gloved hand applied the gel on her taut skin. Stretch marks were littering the sides of her tummy. It was itchy and uncomfortable. However, it was tolerable especially after applying a combination of creams and oil to soothe the ache. It was also another reminder that she really was about to become a mother.

“Cold?” Connor teased with an easy smile. Y/N rolled her eyes upwards in response, “You’re the doctor here,”

He chuckled, directing her attention to the small screen beside them. The static fizz of black and white slowly morphing to a more discernible image as he attached the device to her skin, finding the perfect angle to produce a clear picture. The first time Y/N saw her little baby; it was the size of a lemon. The next couple of visits showed progression in their growth; tiny baby feet, stubby legs, and sprouting fingers could be seen on the ultrasound.

They looked more and more like a proper baby now--like the ones one would see in the clinics and Y/N really couldn’t believe that she was about to find out their gender. Y/N couldn’t tell just by inspecting the picture because of her lack of expertise.

“You’re having a. . .” Connor began, edging his voice at the last word. He wiggled his brows as Y/N’s eyes widened.

She balled her fists, “Oh, hell. Just spit it out, C,”

“A girl. You’re having a little girl,” He peered up at the patient, watching tears fill the brim of her waterline as she gasped, palming her slightly open mouth.

“A-a girl?” Y/N craned her head to look at the square image, blurrier because of the tears but beautiful nonetheless. “I can’t believe I’m having a girl,”

The doctor wiped the gel off of her tummy with a cloth, switching off the machine as he waited for another reaction out of her. Y/N tossed her legs to the side, putting on her slip-on vans to fully-comprehend the news. “I’m having a baby girl,”

Connor nodded, releasing an ‘oomph’ at a sudden pressure around his middle. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, feeling the tube of his stethoscope dangling against her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, happy tears streaming out. He returned the gesture with soft rubs on her lower back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so emotional,” Y/N pulled away with a huff, using her fingertips to rub the wetness towards her temple. “I’m so happy but I just wished that he was--,” She cut herself off, pursing her lips as an image of Harry carrying their baby appeared in her head.

“I understand, Y/N.” Connor mirrored her distraught expression as he really did feel sorry for Y/N. However, he couldn’t explain the extra twinge in his heart at seeing her frown over a lost love. “You’re doing great on your own,”

She sighed for possibly the tenth time that day, “We both wanted to name her Halo if it’s a girl or Arlo if it’s a boy. It reminds me of what an angel she will be,”

“Wait until she gets older,” Connor joked to lighten the mood, receiving a glimmer from Y/N. “What d’ya say you get changed and I’ll print out this ultrasound, sounds good? A few more months then we can meet baby Halo,”

Halo.

___

Harry’s relationship with Camille was a dream. It was everything he imagined, maybe even better. The first time they dabbled on getting together was four years ago, before Y/N was even around in his life. There could be so many things right about a relationship and it could still be wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the right place, the right time, or they simply had too many disagreements and flaws that both parties were unwilling to work it to make them--work.

Usually, the third time would be a charm but Harry felt that he and Camille didn’t need a third time. As he said, the past couple of months felt like a dream. He could close his eyes and still feel the soft skin of the woman he loves grazing his fingertips. He couldn’t help but transpire into a new chapter of their love; one where it wasn’t just them tumbling in the sheets. When the squeals in the kitchen while making breakfast were paired with pleads for whipped cream on their pancakes; a child.

Harry was old enough to know what he wanted--at least, he thought he was--and a family was in his books. He finally found a partner who had the same mindset in their future; Camille. At first, he was absolutely sure that Y/N could not be erased from; but her name wasn't set in stone and once he found someone better--no way in hell was he going to let that be a missed opportunity.

__

Camile sighed softly, laying on Harry's bare chest as he pulled the sheets over their clammy bodies. Their orgasms settled in their veins, the rush and panting breaths calming down with each blink of an eye.

With her finger swirling patterns on his skin, Harry stared at the ceiling in hesitant contemplation, “Babe, have you ever thought of getting off the pill?” She paused.

“Uh, sure, but then we would have to use a condom?” Her voice raised at the end in curiosity.

Harry released an awkward chuckle, gently swivelling her body off of him so he could sit up. Reaching over, his fingers found the flip of the light switch that turned the bedside lamp on. He smiled at her appearance, mirroring his stance as she sat on the bed, a sheet clung around her body.

He shook his head, “No, no. No condoms, no pills and, y’know. . .”

The confusion was evident on Camille’s features, “I don’t exactly understand what you’re trying to say, H--,’

“‘M asking if y’wanna try for a baby, love.’

Silence overtook the room. Harry held his breath in his throat, seemingly trying to swallow down the lump that had formed because of her lack of response. She cleared her throat.

“A baby?” Harry nodded with excitement despite the flat tone whipping past her lips. “I--don’t know how to say this, Harry. I’ve never wanted kids.”

His face fell, the words lingering around his head like a flock of birds. The dizzying epiphany rattled his head clear of any other thoughts besides the fact that there was a hole in his book; burnt and toasted with sparks inkling his skin.

“W-why not?” His palms fell flat on the silky sheets, fisting the fabric to keep him settled. “A mini you and a mini-me running around the house. Won’t that be fun, baby? Don’t you want that?”

It almost hurt Camille to see the grin plastered on his face, hopeful eyes practically begging her to change her mind. But she couldn’t.

“Harry, that part will be fun. What won’t be fun is getting huge, morning sickness, weird cravings, hormonal imbalance, the aftermath of labour, the sleepless nights, the puke, the changing diapers, the back pain, the headaches, the fights when they’re older and so much more” Her accent rippled with each explanation rejecting the idea.

Harry huffed, crossing his arms subconsciously to shield himself, “But it’ll be worth it,”

“It won’t be,” Camille scooted closer to him, situating herself on her knees so that she could look into his eyes clearly. “Look, I made up my mind ages ago and I thought you felt the same since you haven’t settled down yet”

“I was jus’ lookin’ for the right person,” His head dipped down, dropping his gaze their intertwined hands. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Cam. We can make it work. We’ll have our own family. We’ll be okay,”

She shook her head in refusal, “It will be okay for you, H.” Harry could feel her hands itching to slip past his. He held her tighter. He didn’t want to lose her. “You can get back to work immediately. I’m a model and it takes time to lose weight. Even when I do--I won’t look the same. It’ll take me months, if not years to even resemble my present body.

“I don’t care how your body looks. You’re still gonna’ look amazing. You think I won’t love you after birthing our little baby?” With brows pressed together, he pouted his lip in curiosity as she rolled her eyes.

Camille sighed exasperatedly, “I don’t want children, Harry. The sooner you understand that the better. It’s MY body. I’ll be carrying the kid around for 9 months. No thank you.” She stood up, stumbling slightly as the sheets tangled around her feet.

He followed suit. His height towered over her as she crouched down to collect the pieces of clothing strewn around haphazardly in a rush to have each other. “But it’ll be MY baby, Cam. OUR baby, don’t you want that?”

Fingernails dug into the skin of her palm, holding her clothes as she spoke, “I don’t, Harry. Why can’t you just accept that?”

In the heat of the moment, Harry couldn’t help but quell the ache in his chest with a memory he thought he had thrown away, “Because Y/N and I planned to have a family. A-and I thought you and I could have one too,”

Camille huffed, keeping her distance. She walked to the bathroom, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fucking cheated on her then,”

___

His fight with Camille left the both of them on edge, barely able to handle the thick tension surrounding the house. Even though she took refuge in the bedroom and Harry wandered to the kitchen to cool off; it was impossible for them to stay in one place without having another argument.

Harry didn’t mean to let the memory slip past his lip. He hated it when he found himself comparing his past relationships to his current one. He felt that there was no need to do so, especially when the point of all of it was to start anew. Harry guessed that his desire to have a family was too powerful to keep his thoughts in check. The ache bubbling in his chest rose to a boil with each rejection that Camille answered with.

It wasn’t like he didn’t respect her decision. He really did. But Harry didn’t know if he was going to be happy being with her without progressing into something more through the years. What he was asking from her is just as difficult as what she was asking from him. Camille didn’t want to have children and Harry didn’t want to not have kids. There was no room for compromise if they both, mutually, wanted to respect each other's' decisions’ to the absolute fullest. However, the chances of him living a content life were zero to none.

And that was how Harry ended up at a bar, alone, at nine o’clock in the evening. They were invited by his friend, Kora, to a birthday celebration. Harry was reaching the limit of his threshold having to fake a smile and a chuckle while saying, “Camille’s feelin’ a bit sick tonight. ‘S just me,”

The thing with this celebration was that Kora was initially Y/N’s friend. He and Kora had become close friends while he was with Y/N and he guessed that that was the reason why he was invited. Although, it made him wonder why one of Y/N’s best friends invited him when she was aware of what happened between them. Surely, there was no way that Kora would invite Y/N, Harry, and Camille to the same crowded space, would she?

The sudden nervousness swirling at the pit of his stomach came with a quick neck as Harry scanned each premise of the bar. It was difficult considering the dim lighting and endless amounts of heads moving against each other. He hoped to see Y/N; just to see how she was doing! But he also felt like puking the alcohol he consumed because--as much as he wanted to admit it or not--he missed her.

After a half-hour of being vigilant, Harry willed himself to relax by the counter. Leaning one elbow on the wood as he spoke to another person regarding his upcoming album.

‘Yeah, yeah. It’s goin’. ‘M really excited for it cause’ I’ve got a lot of inspiration for some reason,” Harry answered with unyielding precision.

“We both know where that came fro--Oh hi! Sorry, H. Gotta check in on, Johnny,”

He rolled his eyes under closed lids, sipping on his drink, eyeing Kora when he heard a quip of Y/N’s name. Harry inconspicuously moved closer to her, making sure that he didn’t catch her attention.

“You’re not here,” Kora yelled with a whine to her tone. Her drunk self was still coherent enough to embark on the bartender to make another drink for her. However, Harry guessed that her senses were obscured with the way she yelled through the phone despite it being held to her ear and the function tapped to ‘speaker’.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise to make it up to you, Kora,” Y/N’s gentle chuckle rumbled through the speaker, making Harry smile. It was the first time he heard it in a while. He sometimes wondered if he had the right to feel relieved when Harry was the one that blocked her number in the first place.

“It’s my birthday! Why aren’t you here drinking with us?” Kora quietly thanked the bartender.

Harry’s curiosity spiked; why wasn’t Y/N here tonight?

“It’s because I’m pregnant, silly. Can’t really do that when I’ve got a bubba in my tummy,” Both women giggled, Kora, making a sound of acknowledgement, “Ohhh right!”

He really wished that he would have stuck by long enough to hear more of their conversation but Kora’s boyfriend was approaching her and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything if he was honest.

She moved on fast, Harry thought. He was definitely sounding like an entitled jerk. Hear him out though; Harry was happy with Camille. Yes, he had been cheating on Y/N for a whole year and yes, she had to find out through a letter but Y/N was pregnant.

Did she really move on that quickly?

___

Despite the guilt gnawing at her for missing her best friend Kora’s birthday, Y/N was also looking forward to getting some sleep. It was a couple of hours after their phone call together when the nauseating tightening of Y/N’s chest woke again and had been for the past three days.

It was a horrible feeling that spread from the confines of her stomach. The bile rising up from her throat that left a burning feeling from the acids that escaped her mouth as she quickly threw the covers away from her legs, running towards the direction of her bathroom where she emptied the remnants of her stomach from last night’s craving of pickles and hot Cheetos. Her chest heaved with exertion as she draped her arms over the white porcelain of the disinfected toilet, hunching over as her stomach seemingly pumped away toxins.

Y/N wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, visibly shuddering as she pointed a finger to flush the toilet. She had a feeling that she won’t be getting any more sleep despite the time being three o’clock in the morning. Halo was insistent on staying up past normal bedtime hours. Y/N sighed, walking lethargically towards the dresser to retrieve her phone before heading to the living room nearby.

Y/N: You up, doc?

The blue loading bar swooped to the right as Y/N sent a message to Connor. She was at the peak of her pregnancy and her due date was occurring within a few weeks. A lot had changed since the day she found out the gender of her baby. Between the emotional trauma of having been broken up with--the hard-hitting fact was that Y/N was pushed into a direction of pregnancy that wasn’t exactly her ideal path. She pretty much preferred the dream-like sequence of having Harry accompanying her to her ultrasounds.

Just as Y/N was about to delve into another imaginary scenario of Harry sending her cute baby onesies that he would absolutely need to purchase for their little one, the humming of her phone pulled her from drowning in pathetic wishes and desires.

Connor: What’s up, Y/N?

She jutted her lips as she typed out a response. Contemplating whether or not to send the message as Y/N’s thumb hovered over the arrow, she paused to wonder why she was feeling so guilty in texting another man months and antecedent her break up with Harry. He was happy with someone else, yet Y/N felt as if her feet were planted in a puddle of sticky glue; unable to move on from the life she built in her head. Although it hurt to admit that Harry only existed in her memories now, reminiscing the spoken words they have discussed was another stab to her already bruised heart.

Y/N: Halo’s keeping me up again..

Connor: Want me to come over?

To keep you company

The reply was instantaneous and she could not deny the flutter of her heart beating subtly despite the extremities it had endured. And Y/N couldn’t help but notice the jitter of her baby bump morphing a plump bulge where Halo had kicked it as if it was a stamp of approval of the man coming over.

It wasn’t the first time that Connor drove to her place at the brink of dawn to keep her company in case the sickness became too much for Y/N to handle. The first time was simply a desperate action because she was rattled by the sudden spike in dizziness and incoherence of her sickness that Y/N wasn’t confident in herself to handle it alone. Times after that were more for his comfort when Connor said that he would ‘rather be safe than sorry’ while he rubbed his palm up and down her back.

Minutes later, a knock on her door sounded, forcing Y/N to haul her plump body to the comfort of the sofa, pausing the rerun of a television show. She waddled towards the entrance, the fit of her pyjama waistband snuggly wrapping around her mid-belly. A stretch of skin exposed between her bottoms and her tank top.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” Y/N greeted shyly, widening the door to let Connor in as he chuckled, toeing off his shoes by the closet door.

He waved her off, “It’s no problem, really,” Connor assisted her back to her couch, aiding her by letting his hands stabilize in the air in case anything happened.

The moment their bottoms hit the cushions did Y/N realize the gravity of the guilt spiralling in her chest. Connor laughed softly, his back resting on the couch with his right arm resting on the top, fingertips barely brushing over her shoulder. He reached over the coffee table to obtain the bowl of freshly popped popcorn, picking one to munch on but not before looking over at Y/N.

“Want some?”

She snapped out of her daze, cheeks heating profusely at being caught blatantly staring at how Connor fit naturally into her home both physically and metaphorically. He couldn’t have appeared at a better time when Y/N not only needed medical assistance and a support group by her side. However, she asked herself if he could be anything more than a friend. She shook her head ‘no’.

“No thanks. I’m quite full,” Y/N pressed a palm to her belly when a kick halted her breath. ‘Okay maybe a little,” She rolled her eyes, scolding Halo. “She’s a hungry one,”

“I’m gonna pop some more popcorn, kay? Be right back,”

Y/N heaved a sigh, watching Connor’s retrieving figure. Her admiration was cut off by the ringing of her phone.

___

Harry wasn’t so sober when he opened the door to his car. He wasn’t in his right mind either when he unblocked Y/N’s number and tapped on her name, switching the screen as it rang. He threw his head back against the headrest, biting his lip when the dial tone rang and rang.

“Hello?”

Harry’s breath hitched, losing his voice momentarily before his slowed brain caught up to move his tongue.

“Y/N? It’s Harry,” He spoke quietly, “Don’t hang up. Hear me out,” His ears stretched to pick up the click of a dropped call but he didn’t hear any.

“Heard from Kora that y’were pregnant, yeah? And I was wondering, whose is it?” The venom in his voice dripped. His drunken stupor rendered him unable to grasp reality.

“I’m not answering that,” Y/N’s tone was firm and direct. Harry could imagine her pursing her lips inwards.

“Why not? Scared that y’gonna have to admit that everything you put on was an act? How can y’move on so fast and give me shit about it?” The parking lot was filled with cars yet Harry could see that he was the only one currently occupying one. If there was a better metaphor of feeling alone in a crowded place; then he would love to hear it.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry? You cheated on me! You slept with another woman while we were together. You loved another woman while we were together. For an entire year, you lied to me and deceived me,”

“Jus’. . .answer the question,” He pinched his nose bridge, a headache pounding from the bottom of his skull.

“How dare you speak to me this way? You have no right calling me up out of nowhere,” Y/N lowered the volume of her voice, “and asking all these ridiculous questions,”

“S’not ridiculous,”

She gave a smile to Connor who entered the room with a bowl of delicious smelling popcorn. Y/N clutched the phone to her chest. Connor situated his body beside her with a glimmering smile, his mouth twitching as he eyed her bump, “Can I talk to her?” A gentle question breezed past his lips, moving closer when Y/N gave him approval.

The man kneeled down on the floor, leaning his head downwards to speak to Halo, “Hey little one, y’gotta be nice to momma, okay?” His fingers waved when her feet kicked out. Connor looked up to Y/N with a proud smile, “Did you see that? She responded!”

___

Harry felt his heart clench as a new voice filled the speakers. His neurons were fried with each thought firing endlessly, “Who’s that?

“Don’t call me again,”

The dial tone rung in his ears, echoing in the quiet space of his Range Rover.

___

Pressing the power button for a few seconds, the device turned black and was left on the arm of the couch. The excitement in Connor’s voice brought a dreamy smile to Y/N’s face, chewing on some popcorn. The beating of her heart seemed to double at the sight of him being so thrilled with her baby.

“We can’t wait to see you. I bet you’re gorgeous,” Connor dropped his volume to a whisper to prevent Y/N from hearing, ‘’Like your mom,”

Y/N’s relaxed and comfortable state of mind mindlessly worked her hands to thread the hair on top of Connor’s head. Just like she used to do to Harry. Her expression dimmed at the thought, painting a faint simper when Connor looked at her in surprise before shrugging it off, continuing to talk to her bump. She shivered when a warm pair of lips attached to the skin of her stomach. Gentle pressure planting a kiss as Connor said his goodbyes to baby Halo.

“She’s a smart one, that much I can tell,” He confirmed, moulding his body to the lingering shape he had left behind in his previous position. And Y/N was flustered to say that she might have scooched a little closer to his body, snuggling her head at the junction of his shoulder.

“Can I?” She asked, doe eyes raising a question that would allow them to cross the boundary they had limited themselves to. He nodded reflexively as if he was awaiting this moment. Connor took the initiative to pull Y/N closer to him, subconsciously kissing the top of her head. The scent of the woman’s shampoo wafting through his nose and invading his senses in a sweet smell that he would gladly immerse himself to.

It was the most pleasant feeling for Y/N to completely let go of her former worries about starting anew when Connor was as cozy as a heater. He made Y/N feel safe and secure with his body shielding her and his actions hinting at a subdued attraction he hadn’t fully shown to her.

And Connor was proud of himself for not quite literally freaking out when Y/N smothered her face to his chest as time passed and the sun rays filtered through the blinds as she fell asleep. Her words mumbled in a jumbled mess about how she wished that morning sickness wasn’t called morning sickness.

It wasn’t totally accurate, she complained. She thought that it was a misleading name; catfishing perhaps. He had chuckled in response, tracing his fingers up and down her arm and feeling goosebumps rise on her skin.

The orange hue of the bright star painting the sky lighter and lighter until the pitch-black sight morphed into a mixture of shades that could only be described as beautifully grandiose--just like Y/N’s sleeping face when the sun casts a shadow to highlight her nose, scrunching with the slight graze of the back of Connor’s finger rubbing the tip. Or the way the luminescence caressed the apples of her cheeks where her lashes rested, mouth puffing breaths of air as she allowed herself to be vulnerable for the first time in months.

___

A heavy feeling had settled into Harry's chest after Y/N hung up the phone. The new voice he had heard had unmistakably been a man's. Who was he? Was Y/N having that man's baby?

Before he could help it, Harry was seething. He saw red, and if he were in a children's movie there would be steam coming out of his ears right about now. How dare she move on so fast? How could she have a baby with another man so soon? But when he thought about it; Harry couldn't even recall how long it had been since they'd broken up. It made him feel somewhat guilty. He hadn't meant to forget her. It had just happened.

His guilt soon manifested into frustration-- her being pregnant was a constant reminder that she had moved on with another man. Insecurity clawed at his insides- did he really mean that little to her? 'You cheated on her', his conscience pricked, but he brushed away the thought. He hated being reminded of his infidelity to his fiancée.

His defence mechanism kicked in like clockwork, using aggression to shield his insecurities. He opened his messages app and clicked her contact, typing drunkenly.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*'

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet youu did'

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck u'

He smiled smugly at his phone screen, satisfied with what he had sent her. He shut his phone off, and started his car, ready to drive back home. He knew he was being irresponsible, but between his current girlfriend not wanting a child and his ex being pregnant with one; he couldn't bring himself to care. He drove himself home, only to find a terribly worried Camille waiting for him to arrive.

He glanced at the huge clock on the wall behind her. 1:32 am. He shrugged his shoulders and brushed past her to their bedroom. In his drunken gait, he knocked over a metal tray. The loud 'clang' made him hiss and clutch his temples, a headache pounding in his skull.

Camille sighed and made her way over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and muttering a "come here, H" Despite his sour mood, he found himself craving affection. What he wouldn't admit was that he didn't crave Camille's affection in particular. He just wanted to be held and feel safe in someone's arms. Anyone's arms. But despite himself, he mumbled, "m'sorry I left like tha'. Should'nt 've spoken to ya that way,"

She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "It's okay, Harry, you're back home now. C'mon, let's get you changed and then let's sleep."

He bobbed his head up and down, willingly letting her drag him up the stairs to their shared bedroom, "Love ya,” Camille helped him out of his trousers.

She smiled softly, "Love you too, mon Cheri,” He giggled drunkenly at the showcase of her accent.

___

Harry woke up with a pounding headache, whining as his alarm rang at eight am in the morning. He opened his eyes to see that Camille wasn't in bed with him. His lips fell into a pout because of waking up alone.

There was a note on the bedside table.

'got called in for an emergency meeting for the show next week. be home by 5pm. love you!'

He sighed and reached for the glass of water she had left him. His brows furrowed when he didn't see Ibuprofen next to the water. Y/N left him ibuprofen beside the glass of water. Always. Harry snapped himself out of his daze, reprimanding himself for even thinking about her. Why is he thinking about her?

__

After a hot shower, Harry made his way downstairs to make himself breakfast. 'Eggs and toast', he thought. Placing 2 eggs in water and setting it on the stove before loading the toaster. He looked mindlessly through the drinks in the fridge, settling on 'Organic Orange Juice'. Y/N had introduced him to this particular brand after he had complained that all the others had too much sugar to be 'healthy'.

___

"This has no added sugar, H," she mentioned, "They sweeten it with honey."

___

Harry groaned, snapping himself out of the daydream, ashamed for thinking about his ex. Again.

He placed his breakfast on a plate and poured himself a glass of juice, sitting at the dining table alone. He chewed slowly with a mouthful as he unlocked his phone, beginning to go through his notifications.

Camille sent him a text. It was a selfie of her at her meeting, smiling and holding up a peace sign. He mirrored the expression, sending a text back

Harry: "stop being so cute"

He clicked the ‘back’ icon.

The second he does, his heart positively skips a beat. Not in a good way, either. Y/N's contact was just below Camille's, suddenly remembering the nasty things he had texted her the previous night.

"Fuck," He whispered under his breath, opening her contact. 'Read' was plastered under the messages he had sent. Y/N had seen them.

__

Connor had left a few hours later because he had morning rounds at the clinic the next day. Y/N had bid him goodbye with a shy kiss to the corner of his mouth,

“Thanks for coming, C,"

He smiled and pulled her into an embrace "Anytime, angel," into her hair. A warmth spread through her chest--one that she hadn’t felt in a long while.

After Connor drove off (with a final wave from his car window, of course), Y/N walked back in to settle on her couch again. Halo kicked a few times as she sat down, making Y/N squirm and giggle.

"Hi, you little goose! What's got you all excited, hm?" She rubbed over the area where Y/N felt the kick. As if, in response to her mother's voice, baby Halo kicked out again, right where Y/N's palm was. "Are you trying to high-five me, precious girl?"

Y/N cooed at her swelling tummy, a huge smile plastered across her face. "Or are ya just excited about Connor coming over to spend time with us? Got a good feeling about him, have you?"

She feels a gentle kick, it was almost as if the baby in her tummy wanted to say 'yes'. Y/N hummed softly, caressing her tummy, "Me too, angel. I've got a good feeling about him, too."

__

A few minutes later, Y/N reboots her phone her previously switched off phone so that she could see if Connor had texted her. He had.

C: Thanks for letting me spend time with you and Halo tonight. I loved it. I have a  bit of time off on Sunday, do you want to get Pizza?'

Her eyes gleamed, but she hesitated for just a second. Connor had texted her. But so had Harry. He had sent her five messages, and Y/N wasn't sure if she wanted to see what he had to say.

She wanted to make sure before texting Connor back. Y/N was not sure what she was expecting or hoping for, but what she saw was certainly not it.

Harry: 'Your a whore'

'You're*',

'Diid yu cheat on me? I bet you did

'Do u sleepp arond a loot?'

'fck you'

She felt tears stinging her eyes, cursing at the pregnancy hormones that have gotten her feeling this emotional about drunk texts from her ex. Her body ignited with fury quicker than she realized she could. Y/N doesn't hesitate to click the 'block' button to his contact.

She didn't need a man like him around her or her baby. Or her potential boyfriend.

Y/N: 'Hiya!,'

'it was great having you over, and I'd love to hang out! Down for pizza anytime. Halo loves it too :P'

The reply was instantaneous

C: 'Great!'

'See you Sunday, then! What are your favourite toppings?"

Y/N smiled brightly, finding his curiosity incredibly endearing. She typed back a response, gleaming with joy at the fact that she finally had someone she could rely on.

___

"Fuck. fuck fuck fuck," Harry repeated, clicking the call button to Y/N's contact. He needed to apologize. Desperately. He needed her to know that he didn't mean any of those things; he was just drunk. Not that that was an excuse.

'The number you are trying to reach is not in service', an automated voice said.

Harry groaned in frustration, opening her message contact, typing out;

Harry: "I'm so sorry, I don't know what had gotten into me. I was drunk. I'm very sorry, Y/N xx H."

He took a bite out of his toast before looking back at his screen to see if she had read the message yet. He almost wished he hadn't. Harry’s heart plummeted. His chest constricted as tears stung at the back of his eyes. Throwing up the meal he just scarfed sounded like an option right now.

A flaming red exclamation mark met his startled glance, and his chest heaved as he read,

'Not delivered,'

___

As usual, let us know what you thought!

Reign aka pt3 is already up on Patreon (link in bio!)

Reign will be uploaded on Tumblr on Monday, August 31. ___

Series Taglist: @harrysthicccthighs @olsenholic @ghoulsonline @shexgal @neonaquariumgravel @prettylovley @ursogoldenshan @riley-moon @malstumblr1 @sunflowervol6iselite @luviewoo @pessimistic-her @babyprunstatesmanjudge @sapphire-m-rose @apples2019 @havingoodtime @parkersroses @bbymichelleee @addagin @technically-holland @bri-lovett @sunguines @trustfulhaz @novembersangels @explicitroses @toolazymyguy @luvelyhs @leftdragonfarmland @gbserion @wxn-drlst @breathingsoft1y @istudyoccasionally 

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @loviewoo @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

[realcube]

'you're..you're wearing that-' he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, 'for me?'

navi | taglist | nsfw part two

summary ➵ on your first date with tamaki, he’s already wondering why you romanticise a guy like himself

content warning ➵ reader wear make-up, a dress and the accessories pictured above, very insecure! tamaki, mild angst & fluff

credit ➵  thank you to @suneater18​ for the request and the pics belongs to hippieartesanatos

the moonlight penetrated through the sombre clouds which waved overhead, creating a picturesque night sky for you to admire on your date; as if the heavens were smiling down upon you, congratulating you for scoring such a nice guy.  

well, at least, that is what you would’ve thought if your date was sooner to start. currently, you were shuffling on a park bench, fidgeting with your phone as your eyes flickered between the screen and the gorgeous sight above you, anticipating when your date will finally arrive so you can admire it together.

however, twenty minutes had passed since nine o’clock — the time you had both agreed to meet each other at — yet you were still sitting alone, tamaki no where to be seen. what make it even worse was that he was ghosting all your messages and calls. 

perhaps it was the first-date jitters speaking but there was a voice lurking in the back of your head, whispering that you have been stood-up. however, you were too ashamed to just get up and leave now, so you figured that you may as well call your friend and ask them to join you.

your eyes burned with tears which you choked back as your fingers worked on their own to search your contacts for your friend’s number. there was a part of you that believed you were being to hasty but you truly couldn’t bare to just sit here and act ‘hopeful’ any longer. with shaky hands, you tapped your friend’s contact as your thumb hovered over the phone icon.

“(y/n)!” 

you froze upon hearing your name called from a distance, your immediate reaction being to whip your head around to see who — or what — was in such desperate need of your attention that they were willing to yell your name from half-way across the park. 

and of course, it was none other than tamaki amajiki himself; dashing towards you at full-speed in a torn suit, muddy shoes and..his hair seemed to be unevenly cut. he wore a determined yet petrified expression as he came hurdling in your direction, a single stray tentacle dragging behind him as he ran.

a smile of both confusion and relief tugged at your lips, the pads of your fingers dabbing lightly under your eyes to rid of any puffy skin or dampness while simultaneously ensuring that you wouldn’t mess up your lashes or eyeshadow. 

“tama! you’re here!” you squealed, your hands automatically clasping together in excitement as he approached the bench, about to fall into the seat beside you due to how tired he was but pausing as he watched you spring to your feet and open your arms for a hug. his lips slowly curled into a weak smile, his expression softening and he didn’t waste a single second before throwing his arms around you, pulling you in for as tight of a hug that his worn biceps would allow him to.  

despite the fact he reeked of an ungodly amount of body spray, you still basked his embrace since this is the moment you spent the last three hours or so preparing for. you were quite shocked at how shabby he looked but you decided against questioning it, out of courtesy. but on the bright side, it really made you feel better about the outfit you had spent hours styling, yet you were still not completely sure about.  

tamaki suddenly pulled away from the hug so he could fall back onto the bench, letting out a hefty sigh and momentarily zoning out in order to catch his breath. you weren’t too sure whether it was appropriate to giggle or pout at the sight so you chose to not do either and instead, just awkwardly stand and stare at him.

a sharp inhale was all tamaki needed before he was finally able to sit up slightly and bow his head, folding his hands to you before blurting out, “i am so sorry i’m late, (y/n)!” and before you could even get a word in, he began his breathless explanation, “i got a small tear in my shirt and mirio said he’ll fix it but he made it even worse. then nejire said she’ll style my hair but she only knew a few male styles and said my hair was too long and before i could say anything she was chopping away at my hair-- and somehow mirio’s dog got ahold of my suit and it made the tears even worse! i was so stress and y’know when i’m stressed i stress-eat, so i began eating fish snacks and before i even knew what was going on, it was nine o’clock. so i ran here as fast as i could and i tried to manifest tentacles to help me move faster but it turns out i didn’t eat enough fish snacks so i only have one tentacle and i can’t even move it properly- look!”

the fact he said all of that in seemingly one breath left you stunned in place, with you eyes fixated on his rapidly moving lips until they instinctively shifted onto his single tentacle, laying dejected by his feet until it started squirming around. however, that was all it seemed capable of doing — squirming. 

“uuh,” you hummed, trying your best to stifle a snicker as tamaki was clearly in genuine destress. “it’s fine, tama! i was a bit worried that you wouldn’t show but it doesn’t matter, you’re here now so let’s focus on that.” 

your words somewhat calmed him down as his shoulders visibly relaxed, his red eyes tearing off the concrete ground to meet your kind gaze. a slight gasp escaped his lips as he noticed how gorgeous your make-up was, but before he could utter a compliment, his eyes went further downwards as he tried to process the whole of your outfit.

his cheeks immediately burned red at the sight; your stunning purple dress, shimmering heels and matching crystal accessories which were evidently worn to complement his own aesthetic. a certain piece which he was drawn to, was the golden, gemmed ear cuff you wore with pointed tips to form a similar shape to his own ears — one of his biggest physical insecurities.

“you look..” tamaki mused, momentarily cutting himself off to think of a word that would do you justice, “perfect.” his voice was hushed, hardly above a whisper but you were still able to make out what he said and a sheepish grin crept onto your features.

“thank you, baby!” you chirped, perking up slightly and giving him a little twirl, causing a burst of red to explode on his cheeks which he was quick to try cover with his hands. it was moments like these when he wished that hoodies were first-date appropriate, that way he could just sink back into his hood and pretend he doesn’t exist.

“you look really nice too.” there was nothing wrong with a little white lie every now and again. however, it wasn’t even said with the intent of being a lie as you secretly thought that the scruffiness kinda suited tamaki, like, he looked badass! like your prince charming who accidentally fell into a ditch.

your compliment didn’t help the increasing temperature of tamaki’s cheeks either, causing him to slump farther back in his seat as he muttered garbled speech under his breath. it took a good few seconds but eventually he was able to peer at you with a single eye through the inbetweens of his fingers,  “a-and i like your little ear cuff thing.

everything he said only widened your beam and make you feel more giddy, to the point where you were practically bounced in place, “thanks, tama! i saw it and immediately thought of you, so i bought it.” you stifled a squeal at how observant tamaki was being, praising all the small details of your attire which you thought would go unnoticed. “i decided to wear it today because remember how you showed me the tie you bought for our date?” you explained, vaguely gesturing at said tie which hung in tatters around his neck, “yeah, so, i thought we could match.”

it took him a few moments to process what you just said and while his brain was running on overdrive, you were met by his rapid blinking and frozen stature. having known tamaki for a while now, you knew how this was a fairly common occurrence when was truly stunned by something, so you allowed him some time in silence to consolidate. 

“so..” he started, trembling hand dropping from his face and onto his lap so you could see his whole bashful appearance. his gaze seemed to be trained on the floor, until he finally looked up to reveal the twinkle in his eyes, “you’re..you’re wearing that-” he hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, “for me?”

the thought that you were ashamed to be with him was something that constantly taunted him from the back of this mind. you were heavenly in a way that his words simply could not describe, though that didn’t stop him from trying. it was beyond him how a person as divine as yourself would even give him the time of day; let alone insist that he was beautiful, leave encouraging notes in his locker, comfort him when he shows even the smallest sign of being upset, give him praise on all the thing he was insecure about and so much more.

when he looked in the mirror, he did not see what you see. he viewed his ears as creepy and not a feature he should put on display, hence a part of the many reasons why he’s so fond of his hood. but here you were, all dolled up in his favourite colour just to showcase that you were with him. your ears decorated with pretty cuffs that made them look a similar shape to his, at first glance.

when he’d walk beside you through the corridors of the school or under the shade of the trees in the park, he’d feel the eyes of jealous passersby burn holes through his skin; despite the fact you weren’t even dating him yet, people just hated seeing a guy like himself by your side, apparently. 

he stopped eating before meeting up with you so he wouldn’t have any weird manifestation that could draw attention to himself. he started wearing his hood up at all times so people wouldn’t judge him for his elven ears. he refused to touch you just in case people thought you were dating and became envious of him, which would quickly turn to hatred. 

so why would you want to look like him? why would you want people to know that you are on a date with him? why did you act proud to be with him?

you quirked a brow at how confounded he sounded, thinking over your answer with a hum; you wore this outfit for tamaki and yourself because you thought it was pretty and it suited you. however, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was no need to give tamaki the full truth right now so instead you allowed him to enjoy his rare surge of confidence by replying with simply, “yeah, for you.”

you weren’t going to be surprised that he was flattered, by now you were well aware that tamaki held all your opinions on him in high esteem so that’s why you always tried to be as nice to him as possible — that, and it was just in your nature to be kind towards him when he’s been nothing but respectful to you back.

however, what you didn’t expect was to hear faint sobs from behind his hands and watch as crystalline tears poured escaped from the inbetweens of his fingers, racing down the back of his hands. “tamaki..” you murmured, reluctantly taking a seat next to him to wrap your arms around, rubbing comforting circles in his shoulders like you usually did when he was sad. although, you weren’t even completely sure that he was disheartened by your statement. 

“i’m sorry.” you spoke in a hushed voice, leaning in close to his neck until your nose brushed against his skin, resulting in him tilting his head so it rested upon yours. “are you okay?”

“please don’t apologise.” he croaked, stifling his snivels to try show that he wasn’t upset. “you did nothing wrong. in fact, you’ve done everything right. i’m the one who’s been messing up.” he felt your hand ghost over his own and without a second thought, he intertwined his finger with your own, freeing his other palm to place it on your shoulder and exposing his pale, tear-stained face is the process. 

“i know it’s hard but you should tell me what’s on your mind, tamaki.” you hummed, gently caressing the back of his hand with your thumb and planting a kiss on the damp skin of his cheek. his cologne was still suffocating strong but if you were to die, it would ideally be while cuddled up to him, under the celestial night sky. 

opening up had never been an easy task for tamaki; especially about a subject that concerned his physical appearance and emotions. but there was a knot in his chest that would simply come undone when he was with you. he couldn’t explain it, but all the barriers and walls he had established to avoid getting his feeling hurt or heart broken would come crashing down whenever he was with you. perhaps it was a familiarity, maybe it was your reassuring presence or might just be pure love and adoration. 

either way, he found him himself babbling on about anything and everything that bothered him with little regard for his own pride or secrecy, he voiced every thought that came to his mind in the moment. he told you just about it all — all his problems and insecurities —and you listened, offering him encouragement whenever he’d cut himself off, saying something along the lines of, ‘i-i’ll stop now, i sound silly’ or ‘you’re probably tired of hearing me prattle on’. though, of course you didn’t want him to stop until he had gotten everything off his chest as it was a rare sight for him to talk for such lengths at a time so the last thing you wanted to do was discourage him.

“i just..” tamaki stammered, coming to the end of his passionate ramble, “don’t understand why you want to be seen with me, let alone wear those.” he raised his shaky hand from your shoulder to gesture to your ear cuffs, “don’t get me wrong, they look cute on you, but i just don’t get why you’d want to have ears that look like mine.”

“because yours are beautiful!” 

he winced at the compliment and at how sincere you sounded, “well, i’m glad you think that, (y/n).” he muttered, not even having to finish his statement as the dejection in his voice made it obvious that he did not view himself in the same light. his gaze dropped to his feet which were shuffling uncontrollably,  “i don’t know why i’m making such i big deal about this. aren’t you annoyed?” 

your let go of his hands only to slip them around his neck and pull him into your embrace, you felt him tense up in your arms but slowly allow himself to relax his cheek onto your shoulder. “i’m not annoyed, baby. i get what you mean and it’s horrible that you feel that way.” all tamaki could do would tick his tongue in agreement. 

“i know i tell you this all the time but i honestly think you’re so attractive, inside and out. i was so excited when you agreed to date me, i could’ve died of happiness on the spot!” you chirped, momentarily jerked your head backwards so you could peck the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunched his face up cutely at the sudden touch.

your angelic laugh rung through tamaki’s head, forcing his lips into a smile as he gawked at your adorable action. “i love you..” tamaki uttered, raising his voice ever so slightly to ensure that you heard what he said, “so much.” thanks to you, his sobs were now just mere sniffles into the crook of your neck. 

you inhaled sharply, eyes-widening at his words; you would’ve never thought he would be the first on to say ‘i love you’, but you were far from disappointed, in fact you felt yourself melting further into his touch.

you felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing slowly retuning to it’s regular pace as he squeezed his eyes shut, cancelling out all his other senses so he could focus on the way your body felt against his own. 

he wanted to be confident. he wanted to take pride in himself for you. he was tired of restless nights filled with tears due to his worries berating him for simply existing in your presence. 

it wasn’t going to be easy but he needed to start acting on everything you said. because eventually, it wouldn’t just be for you, it’d be for himself.

and of course, it didn’t go unnoticed by you when he started wearing his hood less often, when he began holding his head up higher as he walks by your side, the way he now shoots warm smiles at people who try to glare at him.

and five years later, how he didn’t bat an eye at deadly glare that the waiter — that had been subtly flirting with you all night — shot at him as he got down on one knee, in front of the whole restaurant. 

#amajiki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #amajiki fluff #amajiki x y/n #bnha x y/n #amajiki tamaki x reader #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #bnha x you #bnha fluff #tamaki fluff #tamaki x you #tamaki x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #mha fluff #tamaki amajiki #mha amajiki #amajiki x you

[hyyrulicn]

// list of things I gotta do bc whOOO I am notoriously horrible at keeping my workload light jfhfkdshfkdsjhf

Finish making all of Pico’s icons

Make more icons for Warriors

make icons of Prism’s new fc

make ww Link icons/ finish reviewing all of his stuff

finish researching Cadence of Hyrule/ make icons from the alttp/ooa manga

figure tf out if I wanna go though with another new muse impulse on top of all this-

Edit bc I forgot some:

make icons for Proxi

resize/clean up Wild’s icons

get more icons for Shadow’s other forms (specifically Twi, maybe Time, and alttp)

#[ooc] the digital witch #// this is kinda just to put things in perspective for myself #// these aren't gonna be done in any particular order tbh #// knowing me i'll do like pieces of 2-3 of these at the same time #// in summary: need more icons of existing muses #// and WW/PH link + Cadence of Hyrule Link are going to be added eventually #// plus a *possible* albw/tfh Link- idk depends if the inspiration for him sticks around

[s8ncake]

Originally I wasn’t planning on posting this here, but a friend of mine convinced me. You can also check it out on ao3!

🔞The following fic is nsfw. Minors dni.🔞

Sacrilege

Summary: Simeon has fallen, but he doesn’t view himself as such. No, given the feelings he has towards you, this could only be an ascension; one beyond anything he had in the Celestial Realm, and anything the Devildom could offer. Now he serves no one, only you. His one and only god.

word count: ~5700

⚠️c/w: gore and blood (but Simeon and the reader are fine), yandere!Simeon, sacrilegious themes, blasphemy

Additional note: the reader is gender neutral, and the reader’s genitalia isn’t specified

In ao3, I tagged this with Dead Dove: Do not eat. That still applies here. Make sure you’ve read over the content warnings before proceeding / interacting.

🔞And once again, minors dni.🔞

Falling’s a strange thing, a concept that Simeon never quite understood. It happened to angels who were wicked, those who sought to undo his father’s plan. So they were cut off. From the heavenly host. From their powers. Their wings turned black, and their light faded. Until the only thing left was a darkness, one that sought to consume everything that they once were. They either died or transformed, becoming monsters. Beasts. Demons.

Simeon is none of those things. He didn’t fall to oppose his father, nor did he seek to undo any sort of plan. He’s an author after all, and authors create.

And what could his muse be, other than you?

Your soul is brilliant, a beacon of light amongst everything else in this miserable realm. It took him far too long to see that. But thankfully, his eyes have been opened. And never again shall they shut. In the long span of his existence, he’s seen everything that the universe could offer. Stars. Galaxies. The rise and fall of human civilization itself. Existence itself is always in a state of flux, constantly shifting and warping as things are created and then destroyed.

But you… You exist beyond that.

Your soul never tarnishes, nor does it fade when things get rough. Instead, it fights. Nails. Fists. Some would say that it’s barbaric, but Simeon had always found it to be beautiful. It’s a philosophy that he’s tried to emulate. Words are meaningless, unless they are used to praise you. So now he resorts to action. And well, the saying is true. So perhaps it’s only natural that he uses it to replace his books, that the tales he creates are no longer works of fiction. No, fantasy has lost all meaning now.

There’s only you.

You have always inspired him. Even now, Simeon can’t help but write poetry about you as he moves. The world that he’s in is dark. Depressing. Very little of it is worthy of being compared to someone as brilliant as you. But that doesn’t prevent him from trying.

Today, he starts with a crumbling city. It’s silence echoes throughout the land, and you are the slight breeze that rushes past his ear. The moon, although unlike its cratered surface, you have no imperfections. No, the dips and grooves along your skin are beautiful. Like the glinting of a knife, the way the metal slices through the air. You have pierced his heart just as easily. But that’s okay, it’s yours after all.

It’s a shame that he can’t carve out his own and give it to you. That despite everything, he is still limited by this corporeal form. But if he were to be anything else, then you wouldn’t be able to look at him. And that would get in the way of his worship. A god must be able to view their subjects after all.

Besides, this new form is perfect for him. It’s yet another form of his art, a piece that was made specifically for you. His horns. His tail. His cock… He considered it all. Like a good follower should.

No one else would be able to do that. They are limited by their pathetic mortal frame. Rats. Parasites. They’re unfit to even look upon you. But with another flicker of his knife, they are handled. And he will morph them until something better. Something more suited for you.

The process of creation is a never ending one, especially given the thousands of pieces that he’s working on. Some of them are grand, and others are small. But all of them are for you. How else would he pay tribute?

There’s a gust of wind. Your arrival is soon. He can sense it. It comes with everything that is right. The sun peaking over the clouds. Starlight reflecting off of a lake. The rippling of water as it reveals the creatures that lurk within its depths. The sound of laughter, followed by the blessed silence that he’s come to adore. That is who you are. An omen of things to come. The others say you are bad, but Simeon knows better. It is impossible for you to be anything other than good.

For you are greater than the heavens, and the earth itself. His father was nothing, but you—

There’s a scream as Simeon feels blunt nails dig into his arm. It’s followed by a shove, and footsteps frantically scrambling away from him. ...How annoying.

His latest sacrifice had just ruined his internal monologue. And it was going to be such a good one too. What a shame. If only he had a pen and paper nearby…

They don’t travel far. There’s another sound, although this one is a plea. Simeon silences it with a crunch, and tsks when he looks at his hands. That was messier than he had intended, but it looks like no longer needs any ink. An amused chuckle falls from his lips. Would you like that? Poetry written in the blood of your enemies, the very nonbelievers who seek to destroy the world that the two of you are trying to create?

...Perhaps that’s something to try next time. Right now, he has something more important to focus on. He’s still in the process of creation after all, and he’s not finished decorating. Thankfully this… creature (it can’t be a human, for nothing could compare to you) should provide him with the rest of the materials that he needs. So Simeon gets to work.

This too is a form of art, and one he would never have considered before. But he has expanded beyond quills and parchment. Now he builds sculptures out of the very people who would defy you. Those who are unworthy of being graced with your presence. They are broken down, and fashioned into a suitable idol.

Another splash of crimson. The breaking of bones. Wire. Nails. And then it’s done. Your new altar is complete. Simeon takes a step back, appraises his work, and grins. It’s perfect.

Fresh blood drips off of it, reminding him of rain, the way it softly drizzles and brings life to those around it. This is a form of life as well, one that does nothing but speak of your greatness. The various limbs that have been tacked and strung above it make a rainbow, an icon of the color you have given this dull and drab world. Maybe one day you’ll be able to color it all. But the best part about it is when you stand away, when you view his masterpiece from a distance. It takes the shape of a heart, one that resembles his own. And it exists entirely for you.

The wind picks up, howling in his ears, and he knows that you are here. Once you enter the room, Simeon falls to his knees. He doesn’t have to stay there for long; it’s simply a gesture of formality, one that reminds you of how important you truly are.

“You may rise.”

He follows the command without hesitation. Your voice is a melody. A soothing tone that seeps into his bones and leaves him feeling lighter. It truly is an act of kindness that you’ve allowed him to stand as your equal, if only for a brief moment. But he will be on his knees again soon enough.

He can’t wait.

A sigh falls from your lips once you notice the various remains that litter the floor. “Those were supposed to be the new recruits. I guess none of them were willing?”

Simeon nods. “They were all unworthy of you.”

“A shame.” Your eyes then roam over his altar. He awaits your response with trepidation. ...Do you like it?

But as always, there’s no need for him to voice his question. Like the god you are, you already answer it with a grin. Your power, your majesty, truly knows no bounds. “You’ve found a better use for them though. I’m pleased.”

A shiver runs down Simeon’s spine. Your approval means everything. It is the air that fills up his lungs and allows him to breath. He feels incredibly lucky, to be blessed with such a thing.

It only inspires him to work even harder for what comes next. There is no church here, nor is there a temple. But those measly little things are unneeded. Your body outshines it all. And that is what he shall worship.

A strike of a bell, and then Simeon kneels before you once as you sit upon your handmade throne. It begins now. Sacrament. He licks his lips in anticipation.

You are an image, perched atop yet another one of his creations. Although this one is his favorite. There’s no flesh or bone, only gold. Treasure that he had stolen from the Celestial Realm and the Devildom alike. Melting it was difficult, but the result was definitely worth it. For now you have a throne, one that suits your majesty.

It makes him feel small, as it should. Your presence is grand, a shining iridescent star amongst the blank canvas that he’s created. And it’s reflected in his eyes once you beckon him forward.

He delicately peels each and every garment off of you, savoring the sight of your body as it’s slowly revealed to him. He’s seen it before, yet you never fail to take his breath away. Every hair, every scar, all of the dips and grooves that make up who you are; Simeon loves it all. How could he not?

Beauty takes the form of your legs, the way they spread open before him. Magnificent is the sight that greets him, your most intimate parts bare now before his gaze. Adoration is what he feels when you whisper his name and guide his head forward. And divinity, well... that is what you taste like.

He dives in with enthusiasm. You immediately grab onto his horns, and pull him in closer. Simeon groans. They’re handles after all, ones that he made specifically for you. To tug. To control. He is but a follower, and you are a god. One that will never fail to help him find the right path.

And everything about this, the taste of your essence on his tongue, is right.

Every noise that you make spurs him on. This is what you deserve. The pleasure that courses through your veins. The moans that fall from your lips. It’s a shame that he can’t give you more, not yet at least. One day the world will be yours, but until then… an orgasm will have to do.

You cum with a cry, one that could shake the very heavens itself. A part of him hopes that they've heard you, but the other knows that they are unworthy of such a thing. He laps up each and every drop. It would be a sin to allow any of it to spill. Nothing you create should ever go to waste. Especially when it’s this good.

Once your orgasm ends, he pulls away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It’s a shame that he cannot taste you forever; that like all good things, it must come to an end. But his worship of you is far from over. No, the two of you have only just begun.

Your eyes meet, and Simeon’s tongue lolls out, wiping away the spare traces of your cum. A chuckle, then you gently pat his head. “Such a good boy Simeon. You’ve improved.”

Pleasure shoots down his spine the moment you praise him. This is what he’s after. This is the reason he exists. To serve you. To please you. Your fingers begin to run through his hair, and a moan falls from his lips as he leans into your touch.

“You remember what comes next, don’t you?”

Of course. His worship of you is a form of art, one that he has practiced over and over again. Simeon nods, and then finally removes the last of his clothing.

His cock springs free. It’s hard. Leaking. He wants you, as always. But how could he not? Your visage is the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. Your voice rolls through his mind like honey. He loves you.

It’s normal of course, for a follower to love their god. Yet even the word itself feels unsatisfactory. One day he’ll have to create a new one. But until then, love will have to suffice. Besides, he has better ways to show his devotion. Actions speak louder than words after all. So despite the desire that courses through him, he doesn’t even make an attempt to touch himself. His own pleasure is unimportant. The only thing that matters is you.

So instead he stays on his knees. Where he belongs. He starts with your ankle, placing feather light kisses along each one as his mouth slowly works his way up to your calf. You gasp once he reaches your thighs, and then the next part of sacrament begins: creation.

In the past he created galaxies. Stars. Nebulas. Simeon had the luxury of forming several of them before that task was given to someone else. But thanks to you, he can perform it once more. Only this time the materials are different. Instead of creating constellations in the sky, he makes them on your body.

Today he starts with the Big Dipper. He lightly suckles on your thighs, mapping out each and every star, and once that constellation is done, he moves onto another. Caenis Major. Orion. Cygnus. Your body looks even more breathtaking like this, so he adds a few more. These ones are new, ones that he just made up. They have yet to have a name, but for now… Consecratio will have to do. Perhaps he’ll be able to come up with a more official title for them later.

Your name falls from his lips, along with a moan, and something inside of him slips. He falls even further into your depths. Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. His name never sounded so pretty; but everytime you say it, he can feel his cock begin to swell. He is the one you want. The only being that makes you feel like this, and the only one that ever will.

You are his god.

Blood rushes through him, staining his cheeks, hardening his cock even further. In the haze of his own mind, his mouth parts from your skin, and his fingers enter you instead.

You mewl at the intrusion. This isn’t how things are supposed to go. This step comes later on, yet Simeon can’t wait. He wants to see you cum once more. To hear your praise as he pleasures you beyond your own comprehension.

Perfect. Stunning. Simeon adds another finger, his gaze fixed on your expression and nothing else. Finding that spot within you is easy. He had memorized its location long ago as proof of his devotion. Each and every part of your body has been mapped out, a never ending piece of parchment that he keeps in his head. In truth, Simeon has never been much of a navigator. But your body is the only thing that he needs to know.

You moan once again. You’re close, Simeon can feel it. Although he’s neglected to take his own pleasure into account. He’s close as well.

Simeon hasn’t even laid a hand on himself, yet his own noises grow louder. Every gasp. Every groan. Knowing that he’s able to do this to you spurs him on, his cock aching from how much it desires you. Yet your image drowns all of that out.

His peak arrives, but he never gets to fully reach it. Instead, your hand clenches around the base of his cock, preventing him from cumming.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. Recite your scripture as punishment.”

His labored breathing echoes across the room, and Simeon’s eyes widen once he realizes his mistake. He was being selfish, allowing his own pleasure to get in the way of yours. Lust is a vise that he should have had better control of. He was a fool to let it get in the way of his love, so he accepts your punishment with grace.

Magic soon replaces your hand, creating a cockring that now leaves your fingers free to move up and down along his shaft. His breathing stutters, but he’s thankful for the intervention. More of your magic curls around his body, brushing up against his skin. It’s a sign of what’s to come, yet he shoves that excitement aside, or tries to at least.

Simeon frowns. The cockring was sorely needed. It makes sure that he doesn’t forget about what’s truly important. No matter what, he isn’t allowed to cum before you. The only sin that exists is putting his pleasure before your own.  Yes, he deserves to be punished for this. His devotion towards you never should have wavered.

So he opens his mouth, and speaks; his voice not faltering despite the way your hand moves across his shaft. “The steadfast love of you, my god, never ceases. Your mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning.”

You press one of your fingers against his slit, smearing some of his precum along the head of his cock. A shudder runs down Simeon’s spine. Your touch is a blessing, one that he can never get enough of. But he cannot focus on it. No. The pleasure is unimportant. You must be worshipped.

“There’s no greater love other than this: to lay down my life for you.”

He focuses on the words instead, and on everything that they entail. He would gladly die for you. In both this timeline, and any of the other ones that follow. The universe is full of constants: gravity, matter, humanity itself, and the devotion that he feels towards you. Those are all things that shall exist in every universe.

No matter what, Simeon loves you. And he will die and fall as many times as he needs in order to prove it. Although he’s never met any of his alternate selves, he already knows that it’s true. His love cannot be contained in any vessel. It flows throughout time and space, and every spec of it is dedicated towards you and you alone.

Your hand leaves his cock. Simeon feels it twitch under the absence of your touch. A part of him wants to whine, but he holds that in. He refuses to sin once more, to tarnish his reputation as your most devout follower. So he simply continues reciting the words that he’s come to know by heart.

Indeed, you’re no longer stroking him. But that’s only because your hands have wondered elsewhere. A finger traces the rim of his ass, and it doesn’t take Simeon long to put two and two together. Ah. He had never—

You enter him. Slowly but surely, although there’s no resistance. Another one quickly joins it. Your fingers are slick from his precum and some of your own spit, not to mention your magic… It widens him, making lube unnecessary. Not that he would ask for any. No, he’s being punished right now. This is simply another example of your benevolence.

The feeling is strange, but he continues. “I give thanks to you, for everything about you is good. Our love endures forever.”

Your fingers haven’t stopped moving. They’re searching around for something, although Simeon doesn’t know what you're looking for. There’s nothing left of him to find. You have seen it all.

“And I know that in all things, you do good for those who love you, who have been called according to your purpose.”

And then you brush up against a spot inside of him, one that has him seeing stars. He’s unable to stop the surprised “Oh!” that falls from his mouth, or the way he tries to fuck himself on your hand. Thankfully that was the last verse, so there’s no harm in letting another mewl spill from his throat.

You laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, one that Simeon is blessed to hear. “What a good little follower. If you beg for me, I’ll let you cum.”

He wants to. To immediately get on his knees and beg for you to fuck him, as you take away the last shred of innocence that he has. Ah, but take isn’t the right word. Give. He would give it all to you. That purity is nothing more than a cocoon, one he’s been working on shedding himself of. It only gets in the way of loving you. Besides, how could he perform his tasks if he was worried about heaven’s definition of sin? No, there’s too much work to be done. And what he’s doing is okay. You’ve told him so.

Submitting to the desire that's coursing through him would be easy, but this is a test. One that he refuses to fail. Worshiping you takes precedence. It always does. “No. I wish to pick up where we left off. My only desire is to pleasure you.”

You flash him a smile, one more brilliant than the sun. “Your devotion truly is admirable. We’ll begin our worship again shortly. But first, I’m going to fuck you like this, okay? Remember the feeling of my fingers Simeon. Because next time, you’re going to cum around them and nothing else. Do you understand?”

Next time. He’ll be ready then. And you will finally own all of him. He can’t wait. “Yes, my beloved. I’ll do as you ask.”

You hum in approval, and then your fingers start moving once more. Pleasure courses through him, and he bites his lip as he smothers his gasp. You are everything. This is everything.

“I don’t want you to hold back Simeon. Let me hear you.”

Of course. This is a form of devotion too. How could he have forgotten that? A high pitched moan immediately falls from his lips. Words are hard, but Simeon still manages to speak. You wanted to hear his voice after all.

“G—Good. So good.”

Another finger gets added. Somehow the pleasure increases. His cock aches. It’s hard and weeping, yet he doesn’t care. The pleasure that you have shown him outshines it all. And he never wants this moment to end.

His mind is slowly becoming blank, the fog of lust threatening to consume his every thought. But Simeon shoves it all aside. Vocal. He has to focus on being vocal.

You briefly pull out. A fourth finger teases at his entrance, and your voice coos into his ear, “Can you handle more?”

More. The possibility excites him. He had no idea that it was an option. But he will do it. Of course he will. As your follower, it’s his duty to handle every inch of you. That’s why he created this vessel in the first place. And Simeon leaps at each and every opportunity to put it to the test.

He has to think, to piece the fragile bits of his mind together in order to form a response. But as soon as he comes close to making one, the magical ring around his cock vibrates. It’s slow, a low thrum that’s incredibly unsatisfying, yet it leaves him shivering all the same.

It’s a warning. He still can’t cum after all, and unless he performs well… he may never be able to. A response. You need one now. “Fuck. Y-Yes I can handle more.”

And like the benevolent god you are, you give him exactly that. Yes, you’re so wide inside of him. He didn’t even know that it was possible to feel this full. That his body could accommodate this much. And the fact that one of your limbs is inside of him... Simeon keens.

Truly, he’s unworthy of such a thing. Your fingers, your hand, should be elsewhere. That you would even consider touching him there is already enough to make him cum. Thankfully the cockring is still in place, so the pleasure never has to end.

He focuses on the shape of your hand, the dip and groove of each finger; the way it scrapes against his walls as you slam into him. Your pace is rough. Brutal. Heavenly. His mind goes hazy underneath it all. No. He can’t let this consume him. This is only a preview of what’s to come, and you are gracious enough to give it to him.

It’s another test. But this one… Oh, this one is his favorite.

Another wave of pleasure. He’s a shivering mess, one that can do nothing more than scream for you. Time itself has no meaning. There’s only this; the fullness that you provide, and the love behind each and every gesture that you make. He mewls out your name once more, and then it’s over.

He’s repented for his mistakes.

Your fingers… no it was your fist, pulls out of him. Simeon briefly whines at the loss. He falls to the floor, and then you place that very same hand in front of his lips. He lavishes it with kisses, and groans. More. He needs more.

And he knows that there will be more to come. It’s all a part of his worship after all. The taste of your inevitable union will be even stronger, richer. This is but a treat, a kind dessert that you have gifted him. The real meal comes later on. But Simeon is willing to wait. Once he’s finished lapping at your hands, he moves to your altar and lays himself upon it.

This is his final offering. His body is yours to use as you see fit.

You get up. Although Simeon cannot see it, he hears your bare feet walking across the abandoned chapel’s floor. There is no choir, but the ex-angel wants to sing when you impale yourself upon him.

A purr leaves your throat. “You feel perfect.”

He’s glad. Like his horns, his cock is made for you. Every ridge, every bump, was created to maximize your pleasure. No toy will ever compare. Simeon made sure of that.

You begin to move. He allows you to set the pace as his nails dig into your thigh. Perfect. You fit perfectly around him. He feels an incredible amount of pride as you gasp and moan with the rise and fall of your hips. Out of all of the offerings that he’s made, his mortal form is definitely the best. The flush of your cheeks proves it.

The magic around his cock finally loosens, and you clench around him. Simeon’s climax quickly follows your own. The tangling of tongues. The squirting of cum. He finished inside of you, but you don’t remain on his softening cock for long. No, you pull yourself off of him, and Simeon watches as his cum flows out of you.

He licks his lips. This is it. The moment that he’s been waiting for. His favorite part of worship.

Your voice is a command, one that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. “Clean up.”

He immediately begins lapping at your dripping hole. The taste of your cum has melded into his own. Your union has created this, the most delicious thing that Simeon has ever consumed. The essence of a god flows into his mouth, along with the proof that he was the one who had pleasured you. And now it is inside of him. A bond that cannot be broken. He hungers for more.

Simeon lewdly moans as his tongue reaches deeper and deeper into you, searching for every bit of his cum that he can find. Noises fall from your mouth, but like always, he drowns them out with his own. This is a feast, one that the Celestial Realm could never recreate. Their food pales in comparison. Simeon doesn’t understand how he was able to stomach it before.

Another orgasm ripples through you, and he keens as he consumes each and every drop. Were he in a more poetic mood, he would compare it to ambrosia, but he can write verses about you another time. Instead, he focuses on completing this final act. It doesn’t take long. Once he’s thoroughly licked every trace of cum off your body, he pulls away with a grin. You pat his head, and Simeon hums as he leans into your touch.

“I love you.”

The words sound beautiful coming from your mouth. It’s something that you’ve said before. A sentence that led to this exact moment, and many others like it. Yet he’ll never tire of hearing it, of knowing that he has earned those very words time and time again.

“I love you as well. My god. My beloved. And one day, the world will love you too.”

The two of you embrace. And in your arms, Simeon comes up with ideas for his next altar. It’s sure to take everyone’s breath away. It’ll be bigger than the last one. More limbs. More blood. Wires. Nails— Ah, he’s already getting excited.

It’s amazing; how quickly you inspire him, and all it takes is a hug. You truly are an excellent muse, one that he hopes to be completely worthy of someday. But until then, he is simply an author. An artist. One that exists to worship you.

Eventually you take your leave. There’s work to be done after all, especially for a god such as yourself. And although Simeon longs for your embrace… that just makes it more precious when it actually occurs. Besides, he wants his creations to be a surprise, and it’s impossible for that to happen if you’re looking over his shoulder. So the two of you part. And like the quiet whisper of the wind, you’re gone.

The silence doesn’t last long. It’s interrupted by the ringing of his phone. A number shows up on his screen, one that he hadn’t seen in an incredibly long time. He had tried to block it ages ago, but eventually gave up. Technology still confuses him. ...Some things never quite change.

He accepts the call, and Lucifer’s voice greets him. “Simeon.”

He hadn’t heard it in awhile. The man’s tone sounds deeper than he remembered, and it’s entirely different from your own. The contrast throws him for a loop, if only briefly. Simeon clears his throat. For some reason he doesn’t hang up.

“Yes?”

“This has to stop. The two of you are upsetting the balance. If this continues, then Lord Diavolo will intervene.”

A threat. Of course that would be why he called. But Simeon doesn’t care. No one can stop either of you, including the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Your love transcends beyond that. ...It’s a shame that Lucifer still is unable to comprehend what the two of you are trying to achieve.

A part of Simeon can’t help but feel disappointed at the reminder. “Perhaps he’ll join us. You’re welcome to as well, of course.”

“No. What your doing is wrong. You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m simply serving my god.”

“They are just a human, Simeon. And can easily be replaced. There are billions—“

Anger rushes through him; the intensity of it causing him to crack his phone’s screen. His grip loosens, but the rage still festers within him. How dare he.

“Watch your tongue, lest I rip it out of you next time we meet.”

A pause. The silence seems awkward, sad almost. Lucifer eventually breaks it. “...I see I am too late. The others are right. You have fallen. And unlike me, you’ve had no family to help put you back together again.”

“I don’t need one. I have my god, and they have been by my side through thick and thin. What have you done for me, Lucifer?”

Silence. No other answer is needed.

After a minute or two Lucifer sighs. “I must report my failure to Lord Diavolo. You have exactly 48 hours before he arrives. Use them wisely.”

There’s a click, and then the number vanishes from his screen. Lucifer must have hung up. Yet his words echo around in Simeon’s head.

You have fallen. It makes him want to laugh. There is nothing wrong about this. The love that he feels towards you cannot be tainted, nor will it ever waver. For you have given him something that he’s never had before: Freedom. From the Celestial Realm, from his boring day to day life. Simeon had not truly lived until he abandoned it all in favor of following you. No, this was an ascension. One that everyone is too foolish to understand. And Diavolo seeks to destroy everything that you’ve built. But that’s okay, Simeon has a plan.

A few magic circles… some stolen holy relics… and even the future Demon King can be captured. So when he comes, Simeon will be ready, and the foolish prince will walk right into a trap.

A manic giggle bursts from his mouth. This is perfect.

Diavolo will be made to see, like so many others before him. It’s impossible not to after all, given how grand you are. Ah, but Simeon will deny him the privilege of serving you. No matter what, you will only ever have one follower. Diavolo can beg and plead as much as he likes, but he will never get to feel your touch. He hasn’t earned the right, and he never will. Once he has served his purpose, he will be disposed of, just like the rest.

Simeon grins. In truth, The world doesn’t even need to have people in it. A god does not require subjects in order to be considered such. So why bother expanding your little cult, when no one else will ever be able to serve you like him?

You are his. His human. His god. His everything. And no one is going to get in the way of that. This realm will be made into something that is worthy of you, even if he has empty it himself. But once every single creature is gone, and he is the only being left... Then the world truly will love you, won’t it?

#obey me #omnsfw #minors dni #obey me simeon #fallen!Simeon #simeon x mc #simeon x reader #the reader is gender neutral #my writing! #sacrilege

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Finding your audience

Part 3 in my like + reblog series.

In part 2, we discussed the results of part 1 and what might be better to focus on instead of the like to reblog ratio. In this post, we’re going to dive in deeper into that! These tips can be useful for reaching to a wider audience or trying new theme types outside of your comfort zone.

Like the other posts in this series, it is pretty long, and will have a summary added in an update. 

Sections of this post:

Who is your target audience?

Blog Type

Blog Theme

Blog Features

More tips

Who is your target audience?

In order to reach whatever your goal is for your theme, it’s important to understand who your target audience is*.

Some questions to consider:

What kind of blog does this theme suit best?

Is your preview ‘themed’ in a specific way (aesthetic, fandom, etc)?

Does it have any special features specific to certain blog types (fansite, blog members section, commission page, etc)?

*A small disclaimer: you do not have to do any of the things I’m about to list below. Ultimately, make themes you want to make + how you want to make them. These are just tips if you are stuck and want to reach more users.

These tips can also apply if you are perfectly fine with your current audience but want to get better at making previews!

Blog Type

Look at whatever theme you’re working on, and think about what kind of blog type will use this theme the most and make it look the best. 

If your theme has 3 columns, odds are your posts will be on the smaller side and won’t look as good with text heavy blogs. In this case, you should make your theme preview appeal to blogs that usually don’t reblog text heavy things like aesthetic blogs and art blogs. Try to be consistent with your posts so that it’s clear what blog type you are going for. 

If your theme has a lot of image based elements (whether it’s sidebar, header, or other image placements), you should go for blogs that reblog/make icons + graphics. This can be blogs that feature fandom gifs/edits, rp blogs, kpop blogs, etc. They will be more likely to have a good eye for images that go well together and fit in with your theme’s design. 

Blog Theme

While not every blog has a specific theme it follows, a lot do have something they primarily focus on! They might not be particular when it comes to choosing their theme, but they will be more likely to choose something that features the thing they post about. 

An example of this happening is my theme Facade. I included a fandom post that I didn’t even realize was from that fandom, the aesthetic just matched the theme perfectly. The theme got reblogged heavily from that fandom, and got a lot bigger than I was anticipating! While this one wasn’t intentional, almost all of my most popular themes are using this method. 

The easiest way to do this is make your theme preview feature things you are interested in as well, or are familiar with. The more familiar you are with a fandom’s ‘aesthetic’, the easier this will be to incorporate in a theme’s design, plus it’s fun to do when you’re passionate about it! 

This can be picking a sidebar + header that features characters/actors, or featuring edits + fanart from that fandom. This works well if you want to appeal to that fandom but also want people outside of the fandom interested as well. 

You can also go all out and make something directly inspired by a fandom. Video game inspired UI, using fonts from movies/tv shows, incorporating album covers in your design, are all ways to feature fandoms in your themes more directly.

Keep in mind that this option might make you lose audiences that are not part of the fandom, so if you want a more universal appeal, option 1 might be better. .

Try to look for blog themes/fandoms that have a strong community but aren’t really featured in themes. This doesn’t mean you can’t release a theme inspired by a very popular community, but your theme has a higher chance of getting lost in a long list of already existing themes. 

Blog Features

Some users have specific things they look for in a theme because of the type of blog they have. These things might not appear in your average theme, so they’re more likely to be on the lookout for specific features and pass on themes that don’t have them. 

Writing blogs are a good example of this. These can be fanfic writers, studyblrs, or just language/writing blogs in general! Lots of themes are geared more towards photo posts, and previews will often reflect and highlight these over text posts.

If you want to appeal to this group, make sure your preview highlights text posts, and that your text post styling really stands out. One complaint I’ve seen from this user group is that a lot of theme posts are too small for what they’re writing, so themes with larger posts and larger text will appeal to this group more. 

RP blogs are another example. Similar to writing blogs, but usually come with a different set of needs. RP blogs have a lot of replies, so having dashboard captions might be a better option than blockquotes for readability. Sometimes they include icons in their replies, so make sure your themes support smaller images in posts and won’t stretch them out. They also might look for members + muse sections, rules sections/popups, and places to add custom graphics.

More tips

One thing that is universal in all of these options is doing your research. If you’re trying to appeal to a wider audience than what you currently have, you might have to step outside of your comfort zone. 

It’s never okay to steal someone’s design, but do study other blog themes that your target audience uses. This isn’t really about the design of the theme, but what features they have. What do these blogs have in common? Do they share color schemes, font choices? Do they prefer sidebars over headers? Do they like simple or complex themes?

These are all things you should consider when making a theme for your target audience. 

Going back to blog themes, I would personally avoid intentionally going after what is popular just to increase your note count. If you’re not really into what you’re making, it might start feeling like a chore and draining to make. You also run the risk of it feeling ‘empty’ compared to your other work. The extra notes aren’t really worth that, in my opinion. But if that doesn’t bother you, by all means go for it! Just a warning as someone who tried that for my 2nd ever (and since long deleted) theme because I was new. 

Finally, if your target audience is small, your note count might reflect that. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing! If your target audience loves your theme, then it is still successful!

I’m also saying this to not get discouraged if your theme doesn’t go beyond a smaller group. That doesn’t mean it was a bad theme, your audience might just be really niche, and that’s ok! 

However, if you want to change that, then hopefully this post has been helpful!

In part 4 I will cover reaching audiences that might not be actively looking for themes

#theme making #tumblr themes #like to reblog ratio #tips #advice #blog

[oldmanlenz]

I was wondering if there was a FAQ & beginners guide to this blog? I love the idea of an older Billy

Nnnot exactly! But I could make a quick summary of what's going on in this character's life as of right now for ya, anon! And anyone else that might come across this little blog since it's been growing.

Long post below.

Okay so... first of all, for the Frequently Asked Questions....I haven't really recieved any various questions about the same topic OOC, so, nothing to that I suppose.

(Slight TW for mentions of deceased pets)

I feel like I should talk a bit about the blog itself before going on about my muse, so here goes..

- Regarding asks, if I take a long time to reply to you, please be patient! I'm most likely not available at that moment or I'm not in the right mindset to play as my muse. There's quite a few of them that I still plan on making a small doodle for, before replying ;v;

- Most of the asks are going to be interpreted as telephone calls my muse will recieve(unless you point out whatever action or imply an action that is meant to be like- face-to-face) as a way to keep the whole 'unknown person on the line of the vintage telephone' vibe that Black Christmas has, except we know exactly who's on the line but shh.

- I don't want to pin this post since it's quite long, but I might create a special tag for this here so you know where to look, might add it to my list of other tags too.

Also, I think this is pretty obvious, but DNI:

If you are homophobic, racist, truscum, etc. the usual horrible things that people like me do not want on their sight.

Unkind and hostile reminder that if you infantilize/demonize/belittle/romanticize *ssault or any other type of physical abuse, s*lf h*rm, or any mental condition this character portrays, OP does not want you here.

And now, to shed some light on this interpretation of the boyo, so you have an idea:

- Billy's current timeline is not the modern time! If it was, he'd be pretty much long dead in 2021. This interpretation of the Moaner lives in the early 90's, more specifically: currently the same year as the release of Wes Craven's New Nightmare(in 1994). He is currently 59 years old, and it has been 20 years exactly ever since the events of Black Christmas(1974).

- this interpretation of Billy has a significant other! It's your usual ocxcanon. This whole old man Billy AU was created in the first place because I had this silly idea about this ship growing old together, and here we are. And before you assume, let me clarify: no. The oc has Not been made on purpose to be shipped with Billy(I have actually been working on him and his backstory since last year), and this blog is not going to focus a lot on this character, since it's meant to portray the fictional slasher in question. I was even planning on taking out my oc for the sake of 'keeping this blog as canon as possible' but decided against it since there's really nothing wrong with it, there's other people who've shipped ocs or self-inserts with slashers (if you think it's cringe, kindly consider unfollowing). For the most part, I ended up wanting to keep him as a cryptic 'room-mate', but I might shortly introduce him sooner or later...

Side note for those that showed interest in the past: As much as I thought on making a blog specifically for the oc, I decided not to, since ocs don't tend to get a lot of attention unless you're like- planning it out with friends and such. And I've still got to write down a lot about him, I'm not done figuring out his entire character and timelines of specific happenings😞

- Billy has two lovely new neighbors around! @singrobin and @marinacharkov (both ocs my friends decided to make to join in this funky old man's life)

- Agnes is alive! I may play as her at times since I feel like her character deserves a deeper look as well, but rarely(not necessarily in flashbacks or whatever past memory Billy has) since, again, this blog is specifically dedicated to portray Billy. But she no longer lives in Toronto or anywhere close, she's far away and far happier having left her old home behind. Jess and Barb are also alive(look I mcfuckin love Barbara and, while her death is the best and most iconic out of them all in the movie, I simply don't want to accept she's gone, so, in this interpretation, Billy's attack left her with major injuries, but she survived. That dramatic reveal as Jess opens the door to see both Barb and Phyl dead? I do not see it😌 I pretend it does not exist, I do not percieve it), Barb has too moved far away from Toronto, leaving Jess the only one still around there.

- One of the two kittens Billy owns is named 'Claude Jr.' , but he is not the original Claude, despite him always referring to him as just 'Claude' and taking out the 'Jr.' , the original has long since passed, and Billy hasn't gotten over his death(to the point where he blames himself for it), so he tries gaslighting himself into thinking that the kitten is actually the real Claude, just 'temporarily smaller'. So when he calls Claude, don't be fooled because it's not the same old cat you see in the movie.

- This interpretation of the Moaner is gay, and very much closeted about it. No matter how hard you try, he will not admit to it in public or to a stranger on the phone, the only thing you'll get out of him(if you insist) is a fit of rage before he hangs up on you, or a temper tantrum as he lectures you about how not gay he is via a perverted rant that sounds just about the same as the first phone call in the movie. Pig noises 2: electric boogaloo.

- This interpretation of Billy has to take medication for his mental conditions(medication that often affects his eating and sleeping habits).

And as for said mental conditions- I would still prefer not to share too much on them, not right now at least since 1- it's quite emotionally tiring for the OP, and 2- I would have to look up and study most of them again before coming in here and talking about it, because I need to be sure of what exactly it is I'm typing down because I want it to be accurate, right now it's all just sorta fumbled in my mind.

#*not in your attic ooc #billy lenz #aight so- this 'special tag' shall be.... #//distinguishable christmas night...// taglist/info

[silverwhiteraven]

Borne of the Stars - Chapter 14 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List:  @eve-valution @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @soulmate-game @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @annabellabrookes @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron @ivymala07 @maribat-is-lifeblood

[ Summary: Author is Back! The Heroes now meet. They also meet their first Akuma. ]

[ Posted on A03 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 13 ] [ Chapter 15 ]

Marinette was falling.

Well, falling as much one could when holding on for dear life to one end of a magical yo-yo that acted as its own weird grappler mixed with a trapeze. Neither of which she had ever used in her life.

First time for everything she supposed, though she also hoped this wouldn’t end with lasts, either.

Speaking of firsts being lasts, she realized her latest upswing was about to turn into a crash course collision with a black clad figure floating in the open air. As she yelled a terrified “ Look out!! ” at the person she didn't know was friend or foe, she really did wish this would be her one and only time her bad aim with a yo-yo ever turned into this situation. She really doubted it, though, but a girl can dream.

She barely saw a flash of blonde hair and green, green eyes turn towards her in shock before they slammed into each other, and fell several meters to a high rooftop below with mutual ‘ oofs ’ and wire wrapped around them. They rolled to a stop, Marinette resting awkwardly atop the other who had her back to the roof.

“I am so so sorry!” Marinette immediately apologized as soon as breath was back in her lungs. “I’m really new at this, I-” She was interrupted and silenced a moment later by a laugh and green, feline eyes looking into her own from below.

“Don’t worry about it, little lady,” the girl clad in black soothed reassuringly, her French accented. “I know a thing or two about knocking everything over when you first start out. I’d make a great practice dummy if you ever need it. Now, let's get out of this- uh…” She looked down, confused, at the string around them as she gave her arms a tug. “Wow, this stuff is stronger than I thought.”

Marinette could just feel the yo-yo string staying firmly tight with every tug, and realized she still had one end of it in her hand. “Oh! Let me just-” One tug, and the yo-yo came zipping around them and back into her hand. She was up in an instant, backing up with a flush of embarrassment on her face. “S-sorry, again, I’ll get better at this soon.”

The other girl just grinned, revealing pointed canines as she stood up as well. “Take your time, I can carry us both for as long as we need until you’re ready.”

A distant rumble caught their attention, and the blonde girl went tense and turned back to Marinette.

“Let’s make these introductions quick. I’m Oncilla the Black Cat,” The girl in black said, a hand over her heart and the other behind her back, taking a rather formal looking bow. “You must be the Ladybug I was told to expect?”

Marinette gaped like a fish for a moment before nodding quickly. “Oh, yes! Ladybug, yeah, you can call me that, not many other options with this costume, huh?” She joked nervously with a glance at her red and black-spotted hoodie.

“It suits you, Buggy,” Oncilla said with a grin, then walked over to the edge of the roof towards where the noise was coming from. Marinette- Ladybug- followed, fidgeting the yo-yo in her hand. “We should get going,” Oncilla added, squinting into the distance. “If there's anything I know, it’s that the damage only gets worse with time.”

“Experienced?” Ladybug asked, looking out over the edge nervously.

“Very. You?”

Ladybug laughed nervously once more. “Only with classroom bullies. This is…”

“Bigger, yeah. But think of it this way,” Oncilla turned to Ladybug and set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “In a classroom, you're both on equal footing. Out here with villains? The field is bigger, but being Ladybug means your footing is the same, too. And you know what else you have that they don’t?”

“What?” Ladybug asked curiously.

“Back-up,” Oncilla said confidently through a big grin. “Bullies never have many friends, and villains are nothing more than slightly bigger bullies with even bigger heroes to oppose them. Trust me, your Ladyship, we got this. ”

Ladybug’s shoulders relaxed, and a grateful smile spread on her face. “Thank you. Having friends to back you up is always a good choice. Glad to have you as one of mine.”

Oncilla beamed at her. “Let’s head off. I can fly, but since you can’t, I'll stick with you. I've learned my lesson with going in head-first without my team, I won’t be teaching that to you on our first day together.”

“I appreciate it, considering I’m still not used to this yet at all,” Ladybug showed the yo-yo in her hand. “Catch me if I fall again? I don’t think ladybugs land on their feet…”

“‘Course,” Oncilla answered, then pulled a silver staff from behind her back. Not only did she plan to stay by Ladybug, she also seemed to be planning to forego flying so she could keep the same pace. Ladybug appreciated the gesture, and with a toss of her yo-yo and a step off the edge, she was off towards her first ever in-person super-villain, partner close behind.

Their travel wasn't long, though it felt like forever to the poor Ladybug, who was holding any more panicked yells from escaping. She really hoped she would get used to this soon, she really did.

They found their villain near the Eiffel Tower, the large monument clearly being the Akuma’s goal.

“They're trying to get a higher vantage point,” Oncilla fills in as Ladybug notices the Akuma was only floating so high off the ground. One of the Black Cat hero’s feline ears was flicking, cluing the other into Oncilla’s enhanced hearing as well.

As Ladybug turned back to look at the villain, squinting at them, she could have sworn for just a second she heard the Akuma muttering to themself. Maybe she got her hearing enhanced, too, just not as much? She supposed it went along with the themes, really.

“So how do you usually handle this kind of thing?” Ladybug questioned without moving her eyes from the target. She also kept them moving closer, though slower to keep from rushing or alerting the Akuma.

“Observe, strategize, attack, and don’t ever hesitate. Waiting is only good if it lets you get information, otherwise that’s just stalling, and stalling is bad if you don’t want extra collateral damage.” Oncilla was clearly concentrating well on the situation, looking and sounding perfectly in her element. Ladybug felt out of place, but she still held to the hope that she could fill her new role without any classic Marinette-clumsiness getting in the way.

“Observe…” Ladybug mused. “I saw earlier from my own, uh, high places, that all the glowing street parts popping up are a big, connecting map. The roofs of some buildings are even getting marked with icons.”

“Oh, I noticed that too, a... friend pointed it out to me,” Oncilla nodded. “But why turn the whole city into a giant map?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Maybe they got lost, couldn't find a place to ask directions?” She tapped her chin, thinking more. “I also saw a few odd things while I was swinging around. A few miscellaneous places had markers on them, almost like pins in a personal map rather than existing landmarks. They could be caused by the Akuma’s personal interests in those places?”

“Sounds reasonable. But in that case, they already know the layout of the city. Again, why a map ? Maybe...”

“They're tracking something?” Ladybug filled in.

“Exactly!” Oncilla snapped and smiled at her. “Maybe a bit more like a GPS system. Or a treasure hunt. They don't know where the thing they're looking for is, but they know it’s going to be marked on the map. So, they need to get somewhere to be able to see the map best.”

“Like a really tall tower in the middle of a lot of shorter buildings,” Ladybug finished, then looked onward, past the Akuma, to the Tower itself.

“Let’s intercept them at the base,” she suggested, “If we can't stop them there, we can at least follow them up and see where they go from there.”

“Smart,” the other replied. “Let’s go.” And with that, Oncilla was running and pole vaulting towards the Tower, skirting far around the Akuma to avoid notice, Ladybug close behind with her yo-yo.

The two heroes got to the base of the Eiffel Tower before the Akuma did, though not by long. However, the Akuma seemed not to notice them, eyes locked on the upper levels. That is, until a violet glow ringed their mask, and their eyes snapped downward to the duo, before their previously pensive expression warped into a cold sneer.

“The Ladybeetle and Black Cat! You finally arrived!” The Akuma spoke loudly, impatience thick in their tone.

The two dropped into defensive stances at the recognition, Ladybug’s more sloppy and unpracticed than Oncilla’s. Ladybug thought to herself that she should really take more fencing classes as Marinette. Maybe Kara and her friends could assist, too? Not the time to think about this! She self reprimanded, turning her focus back to the villain.

“What about us?” Oncilla taunted, bringing the focus of the Akuma to her.

“I am Atlas, and in exchange for your Miraculous, I shall be able to find what I have lost with the gift I have been granted. So hand them over.”

“Yeah, no,” the Black Cat wielder continued, “These aren't toys to trade like Halloween candy. We keep them, and you get lost.”

"No! Give me your Miraculous and get out of my way so I can get back to finding my things!" The Akuma bellowed at the heroes.

"I'm sorry Atlas, but we really can't do that," Ladybug chimed in, looking conflicted. She wasn't used to this, it was only her first time as a hero, let alone negotiating with a super-villain or a possessed civilian. Yet, there was something here she did know how to do.

"But!" She interrupts the Akuma as their face contorts into a deeper scowl, their body crouched and coiled, ready to jump at them. "But, maybe we can help?"

"Help?" Atlas became confused, and the butterfly-shaped glow returned. They waved it away with a shake of their head, "Quiet, Hawk Moth, maybe she can help you with this, too."

"Yeah- Yes! I can try to help, what is it you lost, maybe we can look for it." She glanced back to the other hero, making sure she was on board. Oncilla shrugged, relaxing from her previous stance and restraining herself from jumping right into fighting.

The Akuma looked thoughtful before answering.

"Well, at first, I just lost my pens,” the Akuma recalled aloud. “But then..." Their expression contorted in pain as they remembered their moments that led to their Akumatization.

"I lost a lot, actually," they amended. "Today was rough, a lot went bad. I just wanted to relax and work on my calligraphy when I was finally home. But I couldn't find my pens, or my backups... God, I found my good paper with spilled ink! " Their voice rose again, the anger and frustration growing and radiating from them like a toxin. Ladybug kept herself from recoiling and held herself as steady as she could, listening.

"I'm probably the one who spilled it when I left this morning, hell, I probably forgot my pens in the locker when I emptied it, or on the subway like a freaking idiot . I keep doing things like this, losing everything . I can't keep anything straight, I can't remember anything right, I can't do what's expected of me! " Tears streamed down their cheeks now, and their cries had risen to a yell.

"I need everything mapped out for me because I'm useless without that!! So just, HELP ME , or GIVE UP and GIVE ME THE MIRACULOUS!! "

The butterfly glow returned, and only a split second of unheard prompting had the sorrowful and angered Atlas attacking the heroes off-guard.

The two heroes jumped apart, dodging the first attack. Oncilla was quick to engage Atlas in  close combat while Ladybug recovered herself.

The fight moved away from the newer hero, and in an attempt to get herself closer, tossed her yo-yo into the beams of the Tower. It stuck and pulled her up, but she failed to get it back down, and ended up hanging from the string a few meters in the air. Looking around to see if there was anywhere for her to safely fall to, she realized, even if it wasn't much, she could see things better than from the ground.

“Oncilla!” Ladybug called out, and saw the other hero’s feline ears twitch towards her in acknowledgment. “I need to get higher, I have an idea! Can you handle them for a minute more?”

“Of course!” came the response. “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, I got this! Go!”

With a quick, hard tug, and another throw of the yo-yo as she fell, Ladybug was heading up the Eiffel Tower.

As she swung to the peak, she called out, “ Lucky Charm! ”

#Borne of the Stars #maribat #Krypto-Mari AU #marinette dupain cheng #kara danvers #miraculous ladybug #dc super hero girls #black cat kara #kryptonian au

[prettywordsyouleft]

10 Dates | The Work Date

Summary: Kim Junmyeon was the epitome of a perfect catch - he was successful, handsome and everything you currently didn’t want in a man. Yet after agreeing to his request to give him 10 dates in total to change your mind, you realised you might have been looking for someone like him all along.

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x reader

Genre: dating au / romance

Warnings: none

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The giddy feeling from your last date with Junmyeon didn’t last long. It wasn’t due to lack of contact, both of you reached out to message the other when you could. And although you had worn the sweater to bed that night, it had been hanging on the front of your wardrobe ever since.

You just… didn’t want to jump too ahead of yourself.

In the beginning, you had been looking for someone different and Junmyeon was showing you more than you initially expected. He surprised you enough that you were satisfied, for now at least. Still, you wanted to give the full ten dates a good attempt before allowing yourself to get too in over your head with your feelings.

Besides, the time apart reflected that of your busy nature. Work was all too easy to focus on and even easier to be overwhelmed by that you didn’t have a lot of time in your day to even think of the man halfway across the world.

And because of that lack of time, you were incredibly surprised to pick up your phone and find several messages from Junmyeon within the same time zone.

Instead of reading them all, you pressed the call then speaker icons, placing the phone down on your desk as you continued to type up an email.

“You didn’t have to ring.”

“I don’t even have one hand free to message back,” you admitted, though you did pause in typing momentarily to take in his voice.

“Working too hard?”

“This week feels like four years long, not four days.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Lunch.”

He sighed. “Y/N, it’s past seven.”

“Maybe I’ll make it home by eleven,” you concluded, grimacing at the stack of paperwork beside you.

“Do I need to talk to your boss about regulating your hours?”

“I’m just counting down the hours until the weekend arrives. Anyway, I wish I had time to catch up with you but I really should get back to my emails.”

“You don’t need me talking your ear off and transferring the content into your work notes.”

“Definitely not.”

“I still think dinner is needed.”

“I’ll get something when I can and I’ll talk to you again soon. Welcome back, by the way.”

You hung up after saying goodbye, your focus slipping back to the project you were in charge of this month. You were deep in the throes of it when there was a gentle knock at your door.

“Come in,” you called out, not lifting your eyes from a report until a takeout bag was placed in front of you.

Junmyeon smiled when you looked up at him, confounded. “I told you that you needed to eat.”

“How are you … how did you know this was what I was craving?” you breathed, discarding the report to the side as your stomach overruled you with the insatiable smell of the food.

“Well, I can’t say I’m a mind reader but you did tell me that this is one of your favourite things to eat when you’re extra hungry.”

“I did?”

“Mm.” He then gestured to the door. “I bumped into Ayla at the entrance. She gave very thorough directions to find your office.”

“I bet she did,” you mused, still touched that he had gone to such efforts for you. You were halfway through your burger when you snapped your focus back to Junmyeon. “Wait, where’s your food?”

“I ate it on the way, I was kind of hungry.”

You then looked him over more carefully, noticing how wrinkled his shirt was. Placing down the burger, you pointed at him. “You came here right after getting off your flight, didn’t you?”

“You happened to ring when I was in the luggage claim,” he confessed with a wry smile.

“You should have just gone home!”

“And sat in my empty house worrying about you not eating until eleven? Come on, I made the right choice. Even your stomach is thankful.”

You laughed. “Incredibly. I really appreciate this.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

You ate the rest of your burger quietly, unsure what more to say. You were overwhelmed by his selfless gesture. It had been a long time since someone had looked out for you like this.

Junmyeon had picked up a file during the time you were eating and when he noticed your gaze on him, he held it up. “Is this what you’re working on?”

“It’s a huge release for the company next month. I keep thinking I’ll never get it done in time.”

“This is really impressive,” he stated, flicking over another page. “You came up with this on your own?”

“I have my team to thank for bringing it to life,” you replied, feeling shy with his praise. Junmyeon read over it some more and then looked back up at you, his expression now indescribable. You rested your head in the palm of your hand, sliding your elbow up onto the desktop to support it. “What is it?”

“Am I dreaming right now?”

“No, why would you ask that?”

He shook the file. “This is incredible.”

“Enough with the compliments.”

“No, I mean it. I already thought you were funny, down to earth and intelligent but wow, this is something else, Y/N.”

“You thought that about me?”

Junmyeon nodded. “That and more. It’s not fair. How does someone like you exist? I knew when I met you for dinner that there was more than the physical attraction there but damn, I’m struggling here.”

“Struggling?” you echoed, watching his ears turn red. “With what?”

“With how much I like you,” he confessed honestly, placing down the file. “God, I want to kiss you.”

You got up then, moving swiftly into his arms that caught you too easily, meeting his lips midway. It wasn’t hurried, his mouth moving at a much slower pace that your beating heart. Still, the way he caressed you blew your mind. The stars behind your eyes blinded you, leaving you reliant on your other senses. As you gasped for more air, you inhaled, growing intoxicated by his cologne. Your fingers threaded through the ends of his hair, his own now gripping at your waist and pulling you closer to his torso. Another gasp invited your tongues to deepen the kiss, tasting him as the moment grew heated.

You finally pulled back for air, certain you had just experienced the longest first kiss of your life.

And you could tell that Junmyeon was just as affected as you were.

“Was it worth the wait?” you asked as you attempted to catch your breath, Junmyeon’s head bobbing up and down immediately.

“I told you if I did that before I left I wouldn’t be productive on my trip.”

Laughing, you pointed back to your desk. “How do you expect me to finish all this tonight?”

“I’ll help you,” he offered and you leaned in to kiss him again, getting caught up in an equally long and overwhelming second embrace. Junmyeon rested his forehead against yours. “I mean, I’ll try to help you.”

“You need to go back home,” you urged with a breathy chuckle, watching as he grinned in response. “Without me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s only date number four,” you pointed out and Junmyeon laughed.

“I suppose this is as good a date as the others.”

You shook your head, brushing the hair away from his eyes so you could soak them in more effectively. They swirled with adoration for you. “No, this one is the best one yet.”

“Really?”

“Mm, this is my favourite.”

“I think it’s because my lips sealed the deal,” he offered but you shook your head in disagreement. Glancing around your office, at the disarray of your workspace, and then down at your feet sans the heels you had kicked off under your desk earlier in the evening, you then grinned at the man still holding you.

“This is the real me,” you stated and Junmyeon slowly smiled.

“I mean, I probably stink from being in the same clothes from when I set out on my flight home so this is the real me too.”

“I like the real you,” you confessed and Junmyeon’s grip around you tightened.

“You’re right; this is the best date yet.”

_________________

Part 5

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#kwritersworldnet #suho fiction #suho fanfic #suho fluff #suho romance #suho au #suho imagines #suho scenarios #suho #exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo fiction #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo romance #exo au #pwyl; 10 dates #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

[musedblues]

Born To Love You [Part: 2]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there's no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Lads. I can't possibly thank you lot enough all the lovely wonderful feedback. 💖 I hope you'll enjoy the second installment of all this drama! Please don't be afraid to keep sharing your thoughts, feelings, and/or predictions?! And if I forgot to tag you, or you'd like to be tagged, let me know!

w/c: 4k

Part 3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Oh my God." You chuckled, raking your eyes over Gwilym's figure. He was dressed in ivory clogs, velvet bell-bottoms, a silk button-up, and a wig of black curls. You couldn't help but giggle.

"What, does it look bad?"

"No, no... not bad!" You eased, laughing still. "Just... so not you!" You nodded his way. Olive clung to your side, trying to figure out if the man standing before you was really her father. He really did look like Brian May, didn't he?

"Well, that is the goal," Gwilym waved you to follow close behind, the sound of his clogs heavy against the concrete floor. He rested his palm on the small of your back, then. The way he did when guiding you through big crowds or supermarkets anytime Olive was in your clutch. So it felt normal. But you all too suddenly realized the act was officially starting.

Ben was walking toward the trailers too, shrugging on a dapper camel leather coat when he noticed you.

"Well, Hello! Is the famous Mrs. Lee really gracing us with her presence on our set, today?" The striking blonde flashed a brilliant smile your way as he stepped in time with your fake husband.

So now, not only were you going by a name that wasn't yours at all, but you were famous for it? You realized then that if you wanted to change your mind, to confess, it was already too late. There was no time to heave a sigh, you were already playing along...

"Hello, Ben. Nice wig." You rose your brows, noticing the strands of blonde around his pretty face. Long hair suited him.

"That's not fair!" Gwilym chuckled. You let out a playful wince because no matter how hard you tried to take Gwilym seriously with a 70's perm, you couldn't.

"It's the clogs, mate." Ben joined forces with you, giving you a sly smirk. You just had to snicker once more, because Gwilym looked like a completely different person.

"I'm to meet Anita tomorrow, you know?" Gwilym fretted in a high pitch.

"Aye, then don't wear the clogs." Ben countered.

Even Olive giggled like she was in on the joke. Gwilym scrunched his nose in her direction as everyone went on poking fun at him.

After last night, neither of you addressed his slip up, or your decision to stoop to his level. You simply went on with some kind of unspoken understanding that if anyone asked, you'd give the same false answers about your relationship status, every time. That had never been true to this degree. Till now you'd given varied answers, revolving around the truth of your relationship. Now, you were flat out lying. Now you were pretending to be married.

So, you'd been nervous, prepared for some kind of overblown press conference where this new group of friends would dig for details about your life as a couple. But you hadn't seen many of them yet, and the ones you had were busy anyway, lost in their own roles.

You spent a while patiently lingering in Gwils trailer while he was called to set, hoping your time here would remain just as easy going as it had been. When he came back for a costume change, you left the space to Gwil, and let Olive wander around behind the scenes, meandering slowly by her side as she stumbled every few steps or so. And like she knew where she was off to all along, the girl led you right toward some of her father's castmates, who were mucking about on a makeshift stage.

Joe was doing some dance that had Ben doubled over with laughter. It was the first time you saw his perm in all its wonder as he jumped from a platform, noticing you. He was already smiling at the way he'd made Ben laugh, but his grin reached his eyes, crinkling a little when your gazes met. When you smiled back, unabashedly, you realized that you were treading very dangerous waters.

You'd been so blindsided by Gwilym's blunder that you'd nearly forgotten just how dazzling Joe's presence was.

Don't look right at him. There's nothing to worry about. You told yourself. He was just apart of the cast.

"Hello, ladies." Joe mused, sauntering toward you as Ben shook off his laughter and followed close behind. Olive reached out to Joe, and attempted to say his name after you greeted him kindly. You'd spent the morning listening to her practice the words she'd already perfected, and hoped a new one would stick out among the few others.

You scoped Olive up out of the way as both actors stopped before you.

"No, no, say Ben! Like before!" Ben coaxed your child to like him the best. She almost had said his name the night before. Now, Olive listened to Ben's plea with a bashful grin, and then shook her head, deciding against obliging the blonde.

"Joe!" Olive leaned away from you, pointing to the actor whose name she spoke clear as a bell.

"Oh my God! Yes! That's me!" Joe laughed, giving Ben a playful jab to really establish his excitement.

"Joe." Olive giggled at these antics and said his name perfectly a second time.

"She'll never stop now." You laugh in realization. You and Gwil called them 'words of the day.' She only knew about four others, but once she'd gotten one just right, she'd say it for hours on end.

"And here I've worked so hard to be your favorite." Ben shook his head at Olive, who looked at him but was still giggling and pointing to Joe. She'd clearly taken a sudden liking to him. Maybe it was his perm, you thought. Joe continued to dance around victoriously until the boy's names were called by some PA. You took the moment to rush back to Gwilym's trailer, but couldn't help and glance over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Joe as he frolicked the opposite direction. As he danced away, you noticed Joe looking behind too; casting a small wave you missed as you whipped your head back around and hurried away a little faster.

///

Brian May seemed more like a cheery grandfather, than the musical legend you'd known him to be through screens over the years. It was hard for you to understand that the rosy-cheeked, white-haired man with a kind smile was responsible for some of rock and rolls most iconic sounds. He was standing before you with long arms outstretched, and you'd be a fool not to embrace Brian for all it was worth.

You saved fawning over his legacy in exchange for expressing your excitement that this opportunity gave Gwilym. Your fake husband was on cloud nine at the mention of Bohemian Rhapsody, and stepping onto the set with him another morning in a row was like watching the sunrise.

The next time you saw him, he was clad in the silly black wig and a shining silver button up. Olive was still unsure how to handle seeing her father all dolled up, but she released her death grip on you as Gwilym spoke to the baby in a familiar way. He shook some of the curls out of his eyes and that scored a giggle from Olive; you practically breathed a sigh of relief. It was then, as you were successfully functioning as co-parents, that Brian May brought his lovely wife Anita into the room.

You weren't sure what Gwyilm had told Brian, but even if he'd never mentioned you at all, you knew how this scene looked. You'd seen the faces of strangers in passing as they watched you and Gwilym minding your own business, pushing a strolling through the park. Brian May and his lovely wife were looking at you and Gwilym like that now, albeit, Anita was seeing Gwilym as the younger version of her husband for the first time.

For a moment it was all gasped laughter and starry-eyed stares as Brian snapped photos of his beloved with his clone. Gwilym was a pro at bantering with the lady, almost as if his nerves leading up to this moment never existed at all. Anita spent a moment smiling at Olive in your arms, making your baby smile.

Gwilym took her from you, walking toward the craft table when Joe called his name. The sound of the man's voice caught your attention all the same. Against your better judgment, you stared past everyone and glued your eyes to the actor whose auburn curls were hidden below a giant hooded coat.

"Oh, you lucky girl. What more could you ask for?" Anita gushed. It was then you tore your gaze from Joe and watched Olive pull at a couple of Gwilym faux curls. It was a sweet sight, but Anita's pure swooning made your heart sink.

Between Gwilym and Olive, you were the picture of perfection. You appeared to have everything you'd ever wanted, but you had your sights on someone you'd never have a shot with in a million years. And for what? Just because he was so damn pretty? A pang of terrible, horrible guilt seeped into your being as you watch Brian approach Gwilym with some joke. You had everything you'd ever wanted. A whole family. How could you possibly think you deserved someone else, someone all your own? You were lucky enough as it were.

When Gwil scampered onto set, leaving you and Olive in the craft service area to mingle with the leftover stagehands, you took a deep breath and watched him walk away. You realized that even if your heart didn't hammer for the father of your child, he was always there when you needed him. And Gwilym obviously wanted you around all the same. You realized that you didn't have to be in love with him to be happy to have him.

Then and there, you decided that you were going to give this whole fake marriage deal your most real shot.

///

You traveled back to the home you'd made of your Airbnb around lunchtime, taking the long way to enjoy a pocket park you spotted a day ago. While you pushed Olive in a swing, your thoughts about your current situation kept wandering further away from logical sense as you tried to understand them.

You spent the rest of the afternoon reading books to your daughter and kicking yourself for sulking over selfish desires.

Gwilym finally arrived back long after bedtime, apologizing in a whisper when the commotion of his arrival stirred you from sleep. He looked well exhausted, rubbing a spot on the back of his neck with a wince as he kicked his shoes off.

"Come here, sit." You patted the edge of the queen-sized bed as Gwylim monitored your body language. He was a bit hesitant but because of the assured look in your eyes, he felt comfortable enough to follow your directions.

"Take that jacket off." You suggested. You'd done this once, but the circumstances were different. If Gwilym was put off now, you couldn't tell as he rid himself of a layer, only a thin white shirt between you and his tense muscles. You placed either hand on either of his shoulders and that was a green enough light for Gwilym to start talking.

He told you about his unusually long day and the little things that kept going wrong. You massaged his broad shoulders the best you could and felt his body relax under your touch.

You listened to his rambles of annoyance and exhaustion. The castmates he'd made fast friends of seemed to be beacons of bright white light over the long evening of work.

"Rami is just electric. It's impossible to feel poorly in his presence- I mean the guy just has this way about him." Gwilym laughed, humming in pleasure when your fingers dug into just the right spot of his back.

"Lucy is one lucky gal. They're a perfect match." You mentioned, slowing your massage when your fingers started to ache. Gwil went on after agreeing to your comment...

"And Ben is just so easy going. It's like, if he's doing alright then I should be doing alright." You agreed and admitted how you'd already felt close to Ben. Gwilym admitted to feeling the same when they'd first met, then he kept going... "And then there's Joe. He's just... Hey! He told me Olive said his name, today." Gwilym turned to you with a proud grin. "Why hadn't you mention that?"

Because, you'd promised yourself you wouldn't keep thinking of Joe, in order to avoid the way your palms grew sweaty when you did. So you'd forgotten to mention the incident, knowing if you spoke Joe's name it would probably come out through an embarrassing saccharine sigh.

Now, you just gave Gwil a nervous hum as you slipped your hands away from his shoulders. He kept a studying gaze set on you while you moved away, hoping he couldn't read your expression.

But Gwil knew that look. He'd only seen you pull that face a couple of times, during rom-coms you watched together, and once at a wedding he dragged you along to. And then, like some kind of psychic vision, Gwilym realized, that was the expression pressed among your features when you'd met Joe. When Gwilym was too busy sneaking up to steal his friend's hat to register your longing gaze, then. But everything seemed clear now...

"You like him." Gwil let out a bright laugh, like a kid at a slumber party who was way more excited to play truth or dare than anyone else.

There was no use lying to Gwil, he was the only one who'd been in on the whole truth, anyway. Complicating things by denying what he'd found out was pointless.

But there was also no point in having a conversation about it, like you could tell Gwilym wanted to. There wasn't anything to discuss.

"Go get cleaned up and get some sleep, Gwil." You spoke quietly, turning away from him completely.

He kept a watchful eye on you for a beat, before slowly floating toward the bathroom. And when he was alone with this new realization, Gwyilm felt a pang of regret for being so selfish. Who was he to hold you captive here in this rented flat? To call you someone you weren't? Why was his pride a priority? Why didn't you care about your own wants and desires? He hoped you realized you could call this thing off anytime you wanted...

As you turned off the bedside lamp your mind kept racing. Had you ever even been in love? How did you know what you wanted? Through the fog of your scattered thoughts, came a clear vision of the man you ran into a few nights ago.

You thought of Joe and the way he looked at you, how his glance said just as much as his carefully chosen words, when you met.

Why did Joe feel so compelled to greet you with such a loaded statement? Could he have possibly felt the same buzz in his chest as you felt when your eyes met? Did it even matter?

///

"We have a guest!" Gwilym called as he pushed past the front door.

You sat up a little from your slump on the floor where you'd been sorting through playing blocks that your daughter wasn't even paying attention to anymore.

You shouldn't have been surprised to see Joe walk in behind Gwil, both men laughing at something as they entered the room. Of course, you were expecting one of the cast- but, you still hadn't managed to quell the silly little feelings that fluttered in your chest for Joe.

"What a lovely surprise." You smiled, because it was still true that you were glad to see the guy. It had been a couple of days.

"Everyone went their separate ways today, I thought Joseph might enjoy some company outside of the studio."

Gwil reached for his friend's shoulder as you stood to your feet to meet them. It was a nice gesture. Rami had Lucy, and Ben had his family in the city. Even Gwil had someone to end each day with. Joe must have felt lonely, here on his own. And you hated to think he might have been.

"Well, you're just in time to fight over what's for lunch." You chuckled, gazing at Joe. It took all of your focus not to bask in the sparkle beaming from his deep colored eyes.

Gwilym went on saying apologizing for still not having gone grocery shopping, hating the thought of dining out again, but listed off all the best restaurants in the area.

Then, with a look that let you know he knew exactly what he was doing, Gwilym took Olive into the other room for a change, leaving you and Joe alone.

"I bet it's nice to have an early day off. I hear the shoots are getting more intense." You started in on a polite conversation, all while putting a few toys back where they belonged so you wouldn't have to look right at Joe.

It was easier when Gwil and Olive were around, they were your barrier. Now, you had to keep total control of letting your feelings show, without anything to project them toward.

Joe seemed none the wiser, leaning against the door frame of the small balcony, glancing out of the glass doors to the trees that reached above the iron of the railing.

"Yeah, you could say that." He let out a breath of a laugh. "Telling this band's story, the emotions run high."

Your conversation floated on like that, quite seamlessly. Joe eased into rambles about acting that saved you from speaking up and making a fool of yourself. You listened fondly, and nearly let yourself stare at his mouth as it moved to speak. But that's when Gwil reappeared with Olive wobbling to catch up with him, as he boisterously asked who was ready for lunch. Your daughter raised her little arm, and everyone's focus shifted to how freaking sweet she was.

The next thing you knew, you wound up on the terrace of some hip bistro. You settled into a conversation as quickly as you ordered meals and proceeded to have a surprisingly good time.

Gwil persuaded Joe to do most of the talking. Joe was good at carrying on, but it wasn't an annoying drone. He spoke about things he had a clear passion for. And when he paused to ask your own opinions, you pushed for him to keep speaking, instead. You could have listened forever, and not just because it was easier that way. The sound of Joe's voice was like music to your ears, something about him you could enjoy without giving yourself away.

When Gwil left to get drinks at the bar. He asked what either of you wanted, and you said nothing, hoping he'd come back sooner that way.

You weren't just going to blurt out a confession to Joe, but you were so afraid of chipping your resolve. Letting your gaze lingering too long. Saying the wrong thing when no one else was around to hear.

Thankfully, Olive was occupying the space between the two of you. And the second Gwil left, the kid threw her head back with a sorry groan.

"He'll be back." You reminded, reaching over to cease her whines as she melted into a puddle in her highchair.

As you attempted to assure your babe that there was no reason to fuss so theatrically, Joe leaned over on the other side of the table disappearing for a beat and popping back into view with something in his grasp.

It was Olive's favorite toy bat. Joe handed the plastic animal to Olive who took it as she sniveled. Your daughter must have dropped the thing during lunch and you hadn't at all noticed. But Joe did.

"Jesus, thank you." You let out a small laugh.

Joe grinned, shooing away your thanks. But his attempts at saving the day were barely passable- Olive had almost disregarded the toy completely.

"She's probably due for a nap." You sighed in all honesty, explaining how the surprise trip out had disrupted that schedule. 

"Me too kid." Joe looked at Olive like they were on the same page.

"Joe." Olive perfectly and pathetically whimpered, reaching out to him. And without missing a beat, the guy reached back and let her fingers latch onto his. The sight of Olive holding Joe's hand would have melted your heart if it wasn't beating so fiercely.

"You don't have to- ya know," You began to give Joe a way out of his attempts to give into Olives demands of him, but he was already shaking his head before he cut you off.

"I don't mind. She's adorable." He chuckled warmly, watching Olive bring her favorite bat to her chest while her other hand stayed attached to Joe's.

And while your mind seemed to still and capture every little detail of the scene, he spoke up again.

"She looks a lot like you." As if that was a reason he was endeared to the baby.

And if the comment wasn't enough, his tone was all too reminiscent of when you'd run into meeting each other. You wondered if he'd meant any of what he said to you, that night.

Gwil floated back to the table with a drink for himself and his pal. You shot him a look, hoping he realized you were begging him never to abandon you with Joe ever again. Especially if he wanted this whole lie to work.

The alarm bells that whirred louder each second you'd been in left alone, faded when Joe started rambling to you and Gwil as a pair.

And then it was easy as ever, sharing stories, ideas, and laughs. Were you more yourself when Gwil was around or were you just better at hiding behind him? Whatever, you were having a good time.

In fact, Olive fell asleep in your lap while the three of you went on chatting for another hour or so.

When the afternoon was pushing into the evening, you decided to head home since the boys had another early day on set. And when Gwil walked ahead of everyone to fasten Olive in her car seat, your eye caught Joe's. His forest colored gaze on you was evocative of the first time you'd met. Maybe it was because Gwilym was so far ahead, and no one else was looking. Or maybe it was all in your head.

///

Gwilym dropped you at the Airbnb and left to drive Joe back to his. You settled in for the evening and went about your regular rountine; all while you wondered what kept Gwil so long.

He made it back as the night turned black, looking rather pleased with himself. If you had it your way; you would have gone to bed without speaking too directly. But as became the norm this week, Gwil was on another page, annoucing his way through the rented flat...

"So I've invited Joe on our next day off. I know we've been talking about going out for the day, I thought he'd like to tag along again." Gwil reported as he entered the room with a happy smile.

You knew Gwil's heart was in the right place. You knew he was only attempting to be a good friend. But you also knew Gwil knew of your feelings perfectly well, how they could threaten to turn this whole pretend game upside down. And he hadn't even asked you before he'd invited Joe dangerously close, again.

"Well alright." You grinned through a confused sigh, entirely busy rocking Olive to sleep to get too upset.

Gwil knew you were though. And he hadn't expected you to be.

"What's the matter? I thought you liked Joe." Gwilym wondered as he collected his bedclothes. Surely you'd be glad for the excuse to hang around the guy, right? That was the whole reason he invited him over today in the first place...

"That is the matter." You laughed, feeling defeated and defensive all at once.

If Gwil was so insistent on bringing his newfound friend around, you were going to really need to hone in on your connection to your fake husband. You were going to have to make it seem like you had with Gwil, what everyone really believed came naturally. And you were going to have to act like something spectacular didn't occur when Joe turned his attention to you.

And that sucked.

You shushed Gwilym for carrying on the conversation as Olive started to fall asleep. He left for the bathroom with a strange look on his face, like he was trying to solve an impossible equation.

Gwilym was in the shower, and your daughter was silent in her cot, and you couldn't stop thinking of Joe. It made you sick. The harder you tried to shake his image from your brain, the brighter it became. You shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of cold water but only ended up staring at the wall.

Gwilym found you there, in the middle of the kitchen, fixated on nothing. He spoke your name to grab your attention and shuffled cautiously to find out what your deal was.

"Andy said something to me once," You spoke up in the quiet. "After I had a real shite first date. I excepted the night to be magical. But it was shite. And Andy said, 'What if your love takes time? What if you fall for someone so slowly you don't even realize, till your eighty and sharing a house by the sea?'"

You waved your hands around, trying to connect dots with a tethered, imaginary string. It was a long shot. But you had to take it.

"Y/N, what are you saying?" Gwilym cautioned, pressing the heels of his hands down on the counter behind him as he calmly tried to rationalize your blabbering in the dark.

"I think you should kiss me." You looked toward Gwilym as an imaginary lightbulb flickered above your head. "Maybe... maybe we have what we didn't think we did before this whole thing started. And we won't know till we kiss. Until we try again."

You stood as if to challenge Gwil, and he was looking at you like he'd already watched this whole scene play out and was waiting for you to catch up. But you didn't dare blink until he did.

"Gwil... please. Just once." You practically begged, like a kid.

"Will that seriously make you feel better about this?" Gwil's face subtly twisted into concern, but he was moving toward the middle of the room, toward you.

You nodded quickly, looking up to Gwil as he stood to face you. You zeroed in on Gwilym's ocean colored eyes, searching for something you'd seen the likes of in there, before. Right when a familiar sheen flooded his gaze, Gwilym closed the gap. He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

Gwilym proceeded to kiss you like a Disney prince trying to wake up a damsel. His soft lips melded against yours, and your mouths both opened like clockwork, like back when you used to practice this together. You rested your palms on Gwilym's broad shoulders as he kissed you breathlessly. When his movements slowed, your grip ever so slightly tightened on his shoulders, trying to hold onto the moment.

Gwil's lips moved away from yours, but he held your arms in place, like trying to steady you after a big fall. Your insides mimicked the plummet from great heights, but you were on both feet and there was a draft where something warmer should have burned.

"Was that... what you wanted?" Gwilym asked wearily. Because he really must have already known the answer. You kept your grip on his shoulder and leaned your head against his collarbone; the world's most pathetic hug.

"You're a damn good kisser." You sighed, but not longingly. You handed this statement out like a congratulatory honorable mention ribbon. There were no winners tonight. Gwilym slowly enclosed you in a real hug, smoothing back your hair and heaving his own sorry sigh. He brought either of his hands to the sides of your head and pressed one last lingering kiss to your forehead as a sadly bubbling frustration brewed inside you.

"Maybe... we better come clean, yeah?" Gwilym lightly suggested, rubbing your arms and looking to you as if nothing had just happened, as if nothing changed. It hadn't. "And then, maybe Joe-"

"No." You really couldn't let him finish that sentence. "No, Gwilym. You have to finish this movie without any drama. I'll just get over myself and by the time we leave for home I'll be fine, and no one will have any reason to believe otherwise."

"Y/n." Gwilym seemed to warn. His grip loosely fell away from you as you started to leave the kitchen.

"Just come to bed, please." You gestured toward the quiet room. "We can't be normal, Gwil."

But you could go on pretending, like always. Because Gwilym was an actor. And you wanted what you saw in him badly enough to keep playing along.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @redspecialty​ @itscale​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @joemazzelo​ @dancetohotspace​ @kiwi-hardy​ @joeneslee​ @borhapqueen92​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @johndeaconshands​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @beepbeephardy​ @slutforbritdick​ @joemazzmatazz​ @almightygwil​

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine

[unproduciblesmackdown]

some genius pt Musings i’ve been having this time around

1) the question of “is mytho’s hair white just from unknown decades of Time Passage within the paused story, like, his hair pigmentation Aged but nothing else lol” or “That, but his hair is white from the stress” (it’s that one lol. plus fr why would only his hair change due to Time) but i wanna introduce a Third Element: i think we can suppose in-the-story tutu’s appearance / disappearance happens just before or v shortly before the interrupted non-ending of prinz und rabe, and it sure seems like some or all or some Version of tutu’s Essence & part of the prince’s heart are like, truly Merged, and what if it’s that the prince got white hair from That b/c it was more swan-esque. a la the white feathery part of ahiru-tutu’s (& that one design of seemingly-prinz-und-rabe tutu)’s hair

2) again w/the matter of how at least part of Original Tutu seems to exist on in the prince’s physical heart: there’s the brief mention that fakir and mytho dance b/c Mytho Likes To Dance, which like, would be one of those Traits that transcends his emotions, like how he protects everything (so does tutu? emotionally? while the prince protects everyone physically (against a Metaphor for Despair so is that not also, in a way, emotionally too) like thank you power couple) but there’s also the brief mention that tutu is a Spirit Of Dance maybe so it’s like, again, did tutu becoming part of mytho pass something along in that way which imbues him with that proclivity to dance (although you’ve also got neko-sensei saying his dancing was not that Emotional earlier, which makes sense, but also seems like tutu protecting Feelings happens via dance. by “seems” i mean “this is a key aspect of literally every part of this series” s/o to me) or on another note: maybe drosselmeyer just wrote prinz und rabe For Adaptation lmfao. he was like “fuck yes they’re gonna make this into a ballet.” what with this series’ implication that like....the nutcracker is one of his stories where he just so happens to have a full self-insert who textually uses that power to make stories become reality. and that sure is a ballet. and from looking it up just now i’m learning that it was Based on a preexisting story, and, reading the wikipedia summary, i’m also remembering i’ve read an adapted-into-another-book version of this story, and it sure has another layer of “story interwoven with / becoming Reality” to it. anyways my point is i suppose, Watsonianly Speaking, prinz und rabe involving Ballet could’ve been Written Into It throughout all the characters, or maybe it’s just tutu who dances, which then becomes part of mytho’s character when her sacrifice like, bonds (part of? all? whomst can say) her to his heart. bless. doylean reason is this is a series about ballet and stuff

3) Another Briefly Mentioned thing when mytho talks about how he apparently could just naturally draw birds to him. and ahiru having that happen in the first episode/s is like, could be b/c she’s a bird or could be because she has part of the prince’s heart, as is emphasized like, immediately during the Bird Visit in ep 1. so i just had the thought like, a duck who cares about mytho gets to become tutu, but what if it was any other bird, surely it Could be. that fledgling canary he’s saving in episode 1 gets to become tutu mid-fall

4) i had some other Thought and i’ve forgotten it. well in the meantime thinking about how everyone dunks on Prinz Und Rabe Textual Lohengrin as the useless loser failure knight lmaooo but then like, that was just re: the One mentioned fatal raven encounter & also specifically about that lohengrin can’t protect the prince with his sword. but like, sure Behearted Mytho can probably exercise a little more discretion in risking his life to save whatever needs protecting, vs unsupervised heartless mytho diving out of windows, but can we really suppose he was That much more careful about staying safe vs impulsively throwing himself into a situation to save something at all costs. how much work did lohengrin do simply making sure the prince didn’t die in that sort of way. thank you lohengrin

5) oh right. i was thinking about Magic i think. s/o to the person who had the idea that when tutu sacrificed herself and turned into Light she might’ve merged with Good Magic in the story’s world, which the prince also had access to, and that’s how she kind of literally becomes part of him / they share powers / they share their Swan / Dance visual themes & stuff. & i was sure at one point wondering about the Forbidden But Granted Only To The Prince (own...?)-heart-shattering ability, like, maybe at some point an implicitly more specific verb was used like “taught,” or did the prince simply just Have the power by virtue of being the prince, or did it like, come from tutu who has the tie to the prince & Loved him & has those abilities to protect people’s Feelings, although maybe that’s just like, a choice and not inherently part of the magic lol. and then the Real World Magic we see is just like, inherited. but wait then there’s that bridge & ghosts & stuff, although there’s Stories about those too apparently. nvm this one’s really vague i’m just wondering if the Prince alone has that heartshattering Magic Technique through tutu or what. could be anything

6) but no really i think i had some other Thought, i’m sure it was great & ig i’ll reblog if it reoccurs to me, but i got distracted down another mental track so, you know, rip. in the meantime just thinking like, i have no imagination but was trying to muse on some sort of big Attack power the prince could have, b/c the classic thing to happen in the story (whether mentioned in its text or not) is for mytho to go ham with some such Power Surge [Magic Thing] to drive the raven away after lohengrin gets Got. even after he gets his full prince Abilities back he mostly only seems to Attack with his sword. damn wait a second and when he just like crashes Into the raven the big Swan Made Of Light appears first like hang on like is that Him? was it part of his Transport, can he like, Also turn into a swan of light or is it just how he Appears, was it tutu’s Hope Manifestation again since he’s being That to rue in that moment, oh my god. a lot to consider. anyways, but then the thing is, some sort of like Energy Blast move would go outside the realm of [fighting with the sword alone] and the prince’s Magic mostly seeming to be like, a mobility Boost, and how everything abt the prince is centered around Defense and Protection rather than going on the offensive. but then, who’s to say the Heart Shattering technique couldn’t be used as an Attack but was used by the prince only as a self-sacrificial protective thing, and who’s to say the prince Doesn’t have other powerful Attacks to draw from but refrains from using them if there’s others around to be hurt or whatever. i’m just trying to think of how the prince could just really go tf off and Immediately get the raven to fuck off after lohengrin is ko’d because that’s appropriately Tragically Dramatic & Emotion-Fueled Magic, not to mention the best case scenario vs still having to continue like 23 hours of battle when your boyfriend Just died. i mean like boom Light Blasts type situation i guess. or maybe he could just land a really good sword hit like Right Away. thinking about it. anyways

7) oh wait shit lmfao idk if this was The other thought but it was Another thought. that everyone in The Story (Within Reality) is like, locked in The Town (although they can leave if they’re not a Character / if they entered from outside? presumably) but in episode one this all kicks off b/c mytho was at The Lake which is Outside the town, right? i’m pretty sure. which like, is that something he Can and has been able to Do.....is this a. a liminal space. or did/does drosselmeyer like drop him over there sometimes For Some Reason, like having “stages” available around here, a la the s1 finale.....like, didn’t seem like he Knew if he put mytho in front of waterfowl that one would become devoted to restoring mytho’s heart. probably Does Not Matter, Actually, but it sure happened and much to Think about there. shoutout to mytho dancing en pointe whenever it’s magical and he can do so, e.g. when dancing naked on the surface of a liminal lake, or midair with tutu. iconic

8) the point is i’m sure just Thinking About Him (mytho)

#long post //// #princess tutu #brain going [epcot vine] Mytho....... #let's see if i can get normal General Mode brain back lol #good luck to me trying to remember what it was i forgot....nothing that urgent or even much of a question as i recall the gist of it but.... #also me reading the wikipedia entry for the nutcracker (ballet) like what do you MEAN it wasn't a success when it opened!!!!!!!! fuck that #imagine having to wait like 75+ years for that album to finally become Popular ugh god..... #omfggg just heard word that someone made the choc chip cookie mix Fuck yes. Thee s-tier dessert...speaking of the nutcracker (ft's desserts)

[non-sequitura]

Non-sequitura Disney in-depth analysis (after making a tier list)

Warning: SUPER longform. If you don’t know a movie well, you should skip the summary. I tried to be light on spoilers, but they’re there.

I went chronologically from favorite to least favorite. So S tier is, in order from fave to least fave, The Incredibles, WALL-E, then Zootopia.

S tier (Something I consider high quality AND a movie I greatly enjoy. I would love more Disney movies be like this.)

The Incredibles - one of my favorite movies of all time, possibly THE favorite. Rockin social commentary, epic action scenes, memorable characters, not a minute of screentime wasted, great take on the Fantastic Four, hilarious parts for both adults and children, an interesting villain, etc. 

WALL-E - I love how social commentary was done here. Also skies above, what a beautiful love story. Really blazed a trail in non-verbal storytelling (especially given it was an animated kids film!) Robot animations are particularly delightful. 

Zootopia - another social message delivered excellently and entertainingly. I love Judy and her persistence, I love the expressiveness of the faces and the epic city setting. I love Judy and Nick's banter. This movie deserves to be remembered longer than it has been so far. Admittedly, not one of my fave villains, which makes it my least favorite of the Ss. 

A tier (either super high quality or something I greatly enjoy and deem of at least reasonably good quality)

Mulan - this movie did everything right. Truly feminist protagonist, an icon for strong Asian women, fairly culturally accurate (tho Mushu confuses me), GORGEOUS and iconic music. Lets a relatively natural romance develop. I frickin love the action scenes, I love the emporer. Sadly, this movie just didn't lodge its way in my heart as well as Pixar did. Pixar just has some magic, yo. 

Cinderella - my gosh what an underrated protagonist. Her family straight-up abuses her and she never loses sight of her goals for a better life. Iconic visuals helped bring Disney out of bankruptcy. A gorgeous alto singing voice. 

Wreck-it Ralph - alright alright ppl don’t crucify me for this. I honestly can’t think of much wrong with this movie. Vanellope and Ralph’s vitriolic best buds relationship is adorable, her forgiveness of him is heartwarming and (relatively) deserved, rockin’ Owl City song, epic visuals that mix together bc of all the different games. ALSO ONE OF THE BEST DISNEY VILLAINS NO CAP. One of the only twist villains I like. And we stan the romantic pairing. 

Tangled - I’ve talked about this a lot, but Rapunzel deserved the whole world after what she’s gone through. That being said, Gothel is not some shallow monster she needs to escape from, but an intelligent, well-defined monster with backstory. I could totally see this story happening if the world of Tangled existed. Epic love story, hilarious dialogue. Music is… good but much of it is less memorable to me. Visuals are good but not quite at the level/creativity of many other disney films. 

The Lion King - they really put Hamlet in Africa and pulled it off lol. But in all seriousness, no one took the premise of this film seriously at the time and it became sooo iconic. I love Scar and his eventual downfall, I love how Simba grows emotionally, I love the sad moments that don’t overpower the overall feeling of light goofiness. And music so memorable it was one of the first Disney musicals. 

Coco - not a super unique story premise. But an incredible culture to explore with such creativity and sensitivity. I love the themes of death not being the worst and music being so central to the story. Twist/twist villain was memorable and not expected. And yeah, it did make me cry, so props there. 

Ratatouille - the most recently watched of these films for me. This movie is soooo unique! Back when Pixar was truly super out there with their concepts. Super Parisian visuals and soundtrack. It somehow starts goofy (THE OLD LADY TRIES TO KILL REMY WITH A SHOTGUN WHILE WEARING A GAS MASK) but really drives home the message that you can truly do what you want regardless of who you are. Colette can get it. And the monologue by Ego at the end is one of my favorites in film. 

Frozen - Anna is one of my favorite Disney protagonists. She’s so resilient and loyal. Elsa ain’t bad either but she experiences… less character development. The film is a tad too pleased with its own self-awareness for my taste, but there’s no denying how iconic the music and visuals were. 

Inside Out - Alright, this movie hits home for me bc I tried to run away after moving. A super thoughtful, heartfelt depiction of (potentially depression? imo) with great moments of humor. Riley’s inner world is so creative and lovely. Also realistic depictions of Minnesota/California culture. 

Tarzan - Jane! is! smart! and! adorable! Her scientific curiosity makes her very endearing. it’s so cute to see her and Tarzan learn from each other. Also Tarzan’s “found mother” is epic. Solid score. Solid film all around. To quote Lily Orchard, “This film is what Pocahontas tried to be.” 

B tier (one of my favorites but has a few significant flaws that bring it down (or not quite as memorable to me, but consider good quality))

Peter Pan - Haven’t seen it in a hot sec, but I remember being super charmed by this as a kid. Just going out, having incredible adventures, and returning to a warm home at the end of the day. Tinker Bell is hilarious and beautifully drawn. Gets major negative points for the depiction of Native Americans tho. 

Big Hero 6 - I was super charmed by the protagonist, his family/friends, and the setting. The plot/villain’s motivations are a bit of a mess, though. 

Princess and the Frog - This movie has so much flavor to it! The visuals/music are lovely and unique. Tiana is incredible but it’s kinda annoying how EVERYONE keeps trying to shoehorn her into romance. The thing is, her goals are entirely reasonable. Focus on her restaurant, then look to settle down. But they’re like “nooo you’re ignoring the important things in life” smh. Also, epic villain, woohoo! The movie dragged significantly for me when they were in the bayou. Charlotte is delightful. 

Winnie the Pooh - don’t remember it super well, but I think it was charming and occasionally dark, which is an addictive concoction. 

The Little Mermaid - MAN ppl roast Ariel way more than she deserves. Visually, it was… fine. idk. This movie is good. I don’t have much else to say about it. 

Snow White - the one that started it all. Visually, super impressive. Musically, lovely. I find the romance a bit… off. Well, more than a bit. What is it with Disney and kissing sleeping people? 

Alice in Wonderland - a nerdy acid trip. Right up my alley! I also like films where ppl go on incredible adventures and return to the status quo, but THEY changed bc of it. Epic. SUUUUPER creative visual interpretation of Carroll’s book. Brave - gosh I loooove films where a parent and child learn to understand each other. Never got why ppl hated this movie so much. The Scottish flavor is present and fun. Merida made one mistake and made it up. The arrow scene is iconic. 

Cars - a fun ride! (hahaha puns.) We love seeing Paul Newman as a car. 

B-minus tier? (same as B, but problematic, or weaker story-wise.)

Hunchback - man… settings-wise, this film might be my favorite. I also love Esmeralda and Quasimodo as characters and as a duo (though the sexualized depiction of Romani ppl is not epic.) I also don’t find the discrimination against Esmeralda/Quasimodo jarring bc it matches the time period. Frollo is super interesting as a villain. The gargoyles are… def not necessary. Basically, this film doesn’t know what it’s doing with tone. 

Sleeping Beauty - Aurora was my favorite when I was younger because I thought she was the prettiest, and that still defines how i feel about this, basically. Visually lovely - everything is kind of elongated and gothic. Maleficent is spiteful and epic. I have no issue with the fluffier parts of the movie, like the music or the fairies. RIP for lack of consent being a plot point, though. 

Hercules - Megara is incredible. one of the only Disney “princesses” who acts like an adult and has cynicism as a major part of her personality. I love her and Herc’s progression where she learns to trust him (yes, he is genuinely that sincere, it’s not a front.) Muses are unique, whoever came up with them was high on something and I’m living for it. I just think the plot itself was somewhat unrealistic/ weirdly-paced. There are some memorable songs, some less-than-memorable songs. Art style is cool but I’m personally not a fan. EXTREMELY inaccurate depictions of the original Greek gods. 

C tier (entertaining, but I don't consider it a great movie)

Bolt - I watched this like 11 years ago. It was fun! A cool concept about those put on a pedestal learning their worth even without celebrity boosting them up. Animation was… fine I think. not super memorable to me. 

Frozen 2 - They really took any scrap of character development Elsa had in the first movie, threw it in the garbage and set it on fire. Anna deserved so much better. Songs are bombastic and impressive, have the occasional interesting lyric, but are really weirdly placed and none are quite as iconic as the first movie’s (except Aurora, she does great work here. Also the song Anna sings after she thinks Elsa died.) 

Not a big fan of the vaguely homeopathic theme. Not a big fan of Olaf’s WEIRD character development. Not a big fan of the suuuuuper awkward dialogue and the animations that imply not only that Kristoff is into his reindeer but that Elsa and Anna are into each other (if you’re questioning if they did that, yes, they did, I can find screenshots of some really weird expressions/moments. THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO PANDER TO YOUR WEIRD FANS, DISNEY.) 

The voice actors did great work, the animators did great work (look at the details on their clothes! Look at how Elsa’s posture changes to be more confident! look at how they're animated while they're singing!) Some weird costume/makeup choices that make Elsa look like an aging starlet, but she also has some gorgeous moments so eh. It’s a wash for me. 

They really did not know what to do with Kristoff this movie, huh. The only thing that happened to him was singing a cheesy 90s ballad and marrying Anna, both of which were admittedly epic. Also, the trolls got 0 appearances despite being literally psychic. Probably could have helped with a lot. I'm not a huge fan of lore/worldbuilding, and thee was a lot of it here. Overall neutral on it. 

Also a big theme in this movie I don’t love - **** TANGIBLE CONSEQUENCES TO OUR ACTIONS!!! The danger is Elsa’s death, the elements, colonialism, and Arendelle literally being destroyed. None of those end up playing out, so I was left at the end going “this film had literally no stakes.” 

Monsters U - same as above - entertaining at the time! Not super memorable. The ppl we were supposed to dislike kept switching. Doesn’t really match the canon of Monsters Inc (I thought they were supposed to have known each other since childhood so why did they meet in college?) 

Cars 3 - so apparently, everyone HATED this movie! Fun! I never watched Cars 2 (yes watched Cars 1 if you haven’t been paying attention to this list), but I didn’t think this movie was bad at all. Well-acted, some fun chase scenes, the scene where Lightning fails at driving in the simulation is genuinely hilarious, and some interesting perspectives on teachers getting the spotlight for their skills for once. 

Incredibles 2 - I liked this film at first, but then it was… just okay in retrospect. I love me some good family dynamics. The plot here makes not a lot of sense. THEY BUILT UP THE UNDERMINER FOR NOTHING AND THEN FORGOT ABOUT HIM. I was surprised by the villain swap, but it happened so last minute I never really understood their motivations even after they explained them. Tried to tackle waaaay too many messages. 

D tier (I didn't enjoy these or consider them mediocre)

Finding Dory - Maybe I should have put this higher? Like C tier at least. Ah well. Wasn’t a huge fan of the body/physical comedy (not my thing), but it was entertaining and awww finding family is heartwarming. 

Finding Nemo - I remember nothing about this movie. 

E tier (this film has significant problems)

Beauty and the Beast - *sigh*… I want to love this movie. The score is gorgeous. Visually, they could have made it more distinctly Rococo-era France but didn’t (why?) The voice actors did good work and I think Paige O’Hara is SUPER underrated here. 

The Beast is emotionally manipulative with an awful temper that (for MOST of the movie. He doesn’t change.) That’s the main reason this is in E tier. This movie shaped so many generations of people thinking they can change the behavior of someone who treats them badly through the power of love. But you can’t. She learns to “love” the beast under coercion. It’s not Stockholm syndrome - it’s a trashy romance novel. Big fan of Gaston as a villain. He’s an archetype ppl can recognize and it’s so satisfying to hate him.

F tier (I think this film actively harms the industry and would rather it not have been made. Both the one in E tier could be considered harmful to the industry, but I think they had significant enough artistic accomplishments to scrape above that. I'm also generally a fan of "lack of censorship bc it's better to teach what not to do.")

Pocahontas - this movie took real historical events and romanticized them AND sexualized one of the only Native princesses they’ve had. Boo. Nothing wrong with animation!Pocahontas as a character, it’s just people put her in a story that doesn’t represent history well at all (and these historical events, unlike those in say, 14th-century Germany, had super relevant effects on people alive today.) And they portrayed the Native Americans and colonial settlers as equally in the wrong. (though I like Governor Radcliffe as a potential villain and love the line “see how I glitter.” I can’t NOT laugh when I hear it.) Lovely music, though. Nice animation, but the colors are weirdly… muted? 

Bad Garbage (I don't wish this film had never been made, but I wish I never had to see it.)

Planes - this movie was ridiculous. I remember not much about it except that I kinda hated it and that it was super cheesy with tension one could see right through that immediately resolved itself via one twist or another. 

Haven’t seen tier: Recess, A Bug’s Life, A Goofy Movie, DuckTakes Movie, Lilo and Stitch, Pinocchio (actually i have seen this but I remember nothing about it), The Nightmare before Christmas, Toy Stories 1, 2, and 3, Up, 101 Dalmatians, The Great Mouse Detective, Cars 2, Moana, The Good Dinosaur, Pete’s Dragon, Fantasia, Peter Pan Return to Neverland, Fantasia 2000, The Black Cauldron (read the book, though!), Bambi (or I did and remember nothing about it), The Rescuersm, The Rescuers Down Under, Planes Fire and Rescue, Bambi 2, The Fox & the Found, Oliver and Company, Atlantis, Treasure Planet (I want to, though), Piglet’s Big Movie, The Jungle Book, the Emporer’s New Groove, The Jungle Book 2, Chicken Little, Brother Bear, The Three Caballeros, Pooh’s Heffalump Movie, Dumbo, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, Aladdin (seen parts but never the whole thing), Strange Magic, The Sword in the Stone, James and the Giant Peach, Frankenweenie, Lady and the Tramp, Ralph Breaks the Internet, Doug’s 1st Movie, Monsters Inc. (want to, though), Meet the Robinsons, Dinosaur, The Aristocats, Robin Hood, The Tigger Movie, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, that pooh movie at the end without the title on it

-11/21/20

#blog #non-sequitura-blog #11/21/20 #november #2020 #longform #analysis #disney

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Ice Cream Boy

(©nctjaemin)

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Jaemin, being the flirtatious brat as he is, doesn't back down when he should, so you decide to teach him a lesson

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Femdom, Sub!Jaemin, Dom!Reader, Cosmetologist!AU, Cosmetologist!Reader, Spanking, Degradation, Semi-public sex, Edging, Food play, Cum play, Profanity, CFNM, Noona kink

A/N: 

Inspired by Jaemin's popular verse in Boom, his clip in Business of My Members, as well as a wet dream. 

Decided to bring back some delicious subby Nana because we all know he’s a brat yearning for a proper discipline, and I can’t spare any brain cells working on something new today because of the midterm tomorrow, wish me luck.

 You’ve had enough.

 After a tiring workday, comprised of repetitive tasks of checking on and fixing make-up plus hairstyles, keeping a forever vigilant eye on every detail, all of them quick-paced to an anxiety-inducing level, you were simply craving for a good rest after all the chaotic hassle. Yet Na Jaemin, as usual, being the little flirty prick he is, kept incessantly bothering you with some questions regarding cosmetics, which you knew too well, were way too basic for an experienced professional performer like him.

 “I’ve said multiple times already, this foundation isn’t suitable for your skin tone, no matter how desirable the color looks, unless you want to go around and look like wearing a ridiculous mask.” You pointed out while resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “I am the professional, I am more sensitive to color tones than you are, so just trust my judgment.” God, can’t he even see the obvious color difference?

 “Oh it doesn’t matter, with noona’s pretty skillful hands, everything would look good on me, right?” He brightly grinned at you, fiddling with the foundation bottle with his fingers leisurely, as if the statement wasn’t absurd enough to you.

 “Boring.” You fake yawned sarcastically, annoyance evident in your tone of voice. “Come up with another better pick-up line next time. Leaving.” You said as you snatched away the bottle from him, proceeding to pack up.

 “Is it because noona’s too pretty and hear these kinds of things too often, that you are so used to them, and therefore mine doesn’t work on you anymore?” 

  “Really, Jaemin.” You sighed, “You are notably clever with words and know exactly how to sweeten things up, and I must say that you’ve got nice wits. But seriously, flirting with literally like every female in the work field? Isn’t that a bit too much?” You tried your best to lighten up your tone.

  “Why is it wrong to straight-up show my affection to other people?” He pouted. Cut that crap. You internally thought expressionlessly, both too tired and annoyed to argue with him anymore. If you are making others suffer, from...umm...sexual...frustration problems, then you are definitely at fault. “But hey noona, I’ve practiced an aegyo thingy for a show, would you like to see it and give me some feedback?” He sheepishly smiled as if your accusation earlier didn’t exist at all.

  “No thank you.”

  “Aww come on don’t be like this, it won't be long I promise!”

  "I would consider it if you promise not to bug me after this."

  "Okay I won't", Jaemin pouted again, but soon cleared his throat and fixed his expressions before he began, "-Did you enjoy Jaemin's three-flavored ice cream? What's your choice of flavor, strawberry, chocolate, cream cheese or-" 

  "'Or me?', so damn predictable." You mocked his tone. 

  "That's actually not included in the script though." He grinned at you, "Now, how did I do?"

  "Cringy as hell, I'm sure your members are not going to like it." You chuckled, "I would much prefer Macadamia nut." You mused under your breath jokingly as you took your case and walked away, leaving him completely behind.

  On your way home, you couldn’t help but ponder on Jaemin’s flirtatious intentions toward you, which have escalated too much recently to an extent that you almost couldn’t handle. You would be untruthful to yourself if you say that Jaemin’s sweet words, along with his gorgeous features do not affect you, but the fact that he is this coquettish to everyone pisses you off, spurring the possessive streak in you. The desire to watch the beautiful creature that held the power to stir up amorous craze among women crumble under your command and punitive touch, had loomed your mind since his unwavering flirting with you began to heat up day by day, and you were afraid that one day, you would snap and let those guilty fantasies cross into real life. So you decided to give him the cold shoulder to keep your sanity.

  The next day at work you were startled by a sudden contact of freezing sensation on your cheek. You jolted as you turned to your side, about to attack the perpetrator.

  "Surprise!" Jaemin beamed with a mini cup of Macadamia nut ice cream in his hand.

  "Oh." you replied expressionlessly with your hands still working to complete the final touches of Jisung's make-up, kind of surprised that Jaemin would take your mindless comment seriously, "We don't have a fridge here, it's definitely going to melt-"

"Just like your heart, noona." Jaemin chuckled with a dark glint in his eyes, as he laid the cup of ice cream beside you and walked away to prepare for his performance.

  After completing all the daytime workload, you were left alone in the dressing room, packing up all your make-up tools and belongings while you hummed a happy tune, celebrating your upcoming free time. Just when choices of what you were going to get for dinner swirled around in your mind as you were about to exit the room, a strong grip got hold of you and pushed you right back in, locking the door behind you and cornering you to the wall.

  "What the-" You tried hard to bite back the harsh words that were about to come out of your mouth, glaring up at the handsome face smirking down at you as if you were his prey.

  "Looks like I surprised you again, noona. I'm here to tell you that a beautiful woman like you shouldn't be walking around alone like this, it's dangerous." Jaemin said with his iconic seductive smile plastered on his face.

  "It's none of your business, Jaemin." You coldly retorted, "Now, leave me alone."

  "Why? Can't a boy express his love and concern for his favorite noona? Especially for someone that has enchanted me since the very first time I laid eyes on?" 

  "Your favorite? That should be one of your favorites, Jaemin." You corrected him, "You are being this flirty to every woman here, so I don't buy anything affectionate you say."

  "I don't care what you think about my attitude toward others. You own a special place in my heart and I won't hesitate to show you." Jaemin continued his attempt to sway you with sweet words.

  "You don't care? But I think it's still necessary for me to say what I think of you." You scoffed, getting tired of his demeanor. "You are only making moves on me because unlike other women, I do not fall for your pretty tricks easily, so you just keep on pestering me with all those lovey-dovey stuff, wanting to see me eventually crumble for you to feed your pathetic ego. And I can assure you that that's not going to happen. I am way more tough and difficult than you think." 

  "Really?" Jaemin's loving smiley gaze immediately turned dark, as he tightened his grip on your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hotly against you. "Why are you being this closed-off to me when we both like each other, hmm?" He whined in his cutesy but also alluring voice, hands sliding up and down to grope your curves ever so sensually. But to your surprise, instead of getting turned on, annoyance fumed inside you as your devilish persona began to prevail.

  So when Jaemin's hands were stroking the sides of your breasts, you abruptly pulled him away from you by his hair. From his yelp of satisfaction and facial expressions, you could tell that he enjoyed being treated roughly like this. "If I am truly your favorite noona, prove it." You sternly ordered, looking straight into his eyes, fingers still in his hair.

  "Anything for you, noona." He winced but still managed a grin.

  "Very well. Remove your bottoms, and give me your belt." You commanded while releasing your grip.  

  "Oh, I would happily strip completely naked for you, noona." He said with a triumphant grin as of a predator that has trapped its prey at its paws, while complying with your order. "I know so well that you would want that cock of mine, why didn't you just admit it in the first place? Things would be a lot easier then."

  You raised your eyebrow in amusement, this boy is still oblivious about what is to come, and you couldn't wait to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. "We'll see about that. Now bend over." You instructed, motioning toward the vanity as you took the belt from him.

  After Jaemin pressed his torso against the wooden surface, you laid the belt beside him, decided to go with your bare hand first. Kneading both of his ass cheeks, you delivered continuous hard smacks right after, earning startled yelps from him as he didn't expect you to be this harsh. "Ah-noona..." He panted as you alternated blows between his left and right cheek mercilessly. "It stings so much...mmf...but it feels so right...so good...ahh..." He dragged his voice, as his gaze met yours, still so smug.

  From how his dick twitched and stiffened with every spank, you knew that he wasn't lying, but by no means was this smiley angel that has a devilish streak in him going to learn his lesson this way. "Well, it's not the discipline you needed anymore if you are enjoying it this much, bad boy." You remarked as you reached for his belt, folding it in half, before landing a sharp slap on him.

  "Argh!" Jaemin cried out loud while grimacing at the painful whiplash, which turned you on even more. You then went on to belt his naughty ass cheeks wickedly, savoring the resounding slaps it made against his skin, as well as his erotic moans and the sight of his gradually reddened ass rippling under your strikes.

  "Look up." You tilted Jaemin's chin, forcing him to make eye contact with his reflection in the mirror while stopping your belt lashes to caress his hot cheeks. "Better get a good look of your pretty little slut face when I punish you, naughty boy." You snickered as you resumed to discipline him.

  "You don't flirt around like an attention whore." You chastised between hits. "You don't think of women as easy creatures that should all mindlessly fall for you." You quickened your pace as you hurled five consecutive blows, causing him to squirm and whimper. "And stop considering yourself a would-be Casanova, you are just a little slut that begs to be reminded of your place, aren't you? And a mere spanking is already enough to make you quiver with so much need to get fucked, right slut?" You sneered as you pressed your soothing palm against his ass, the other hand teasing his hard member. Jaemin moaned as his knees buckled to your punishing but also tantalizing touch.

  "Oh looks like someone can't support himself for his punishment anymore. Let's get you some assistance, shall we?" You chuckled as you grabbed a chair toward him. "Kneel on it. Spread your legs." 

  You pressed his upper body against the vanity after he placed his knees on the chair. "Spread your legs further." You commanded while tapping his inner thighs with the belt, yet Jaemin was hesitant. "Further!" You indignantly ordered, landing a mark on him as he whined out, breath hitching while eventually opening wide, exposing his genitals for you to play with. 

  "Look at you, in such a humiliating position where a bad boy like you should be, and being a complete pathetic whining mess just for me." You taunted as you carried on with your belting, sending shudders of excitement down his spine as he immersed in the pleasurable pain even more, moaning in sync with your relentless spanks, his eyes never leaving the reflection of both of you in the mirror. "Such a loud slut, so fucking easily turned on just by the sight of your upturned ass getting abused. Insatiable, aren't you?" You chortled in satisfaction, your face the epitome of sadistic glee.

  Making things even better, you heard two voices ringing down the hallway, getting nearer to your room with preceding sounds of footsteps. "Chenle and Jisung?" You speculated as you whipped Jaemin again, this time, drawing out a refrained whimper from him. "Why hold back your caterwauls? Wouldn't it be more exciting to let them know? That their usually proud and confident Jaemin hyung is now getting disciplined with his naked butt pushed up like a slutty naughty brat he is?" You wickedly coaxed, making sensual rubs on his now red cheeks, then suddenly dropping down to squeeze his dick, causing him to jolt in surprise with a suppressed grunt. Then swiftly after, you landed a blow on him again, and from his expression, you could tell that it just took him off guard.

  "Please noona. stop punishing me. It's so embarrassing..." Jaemin half-whispered, voice quivering with need and plead, dick twitching at the thought of getting caught by his dongsaengs outside. "Really? But my little slut seems to enjoy it a bit too much..." You sneered as you gave a generous pump and lick to his now throbbing dick, as he replied with a stifled moan. 

  "You'd better keep your volume down then, loud whore." Jaemin shivered as you breathed the sentence right against the back of his cock before you licked a stripe on it. Then you proceeded to work his shaft with your tongue as your open palms slapped and kneaded his ass cheeks, going down to cup and caress his balls from time to time. Jaemin was blown away by the sensation of aphrodisiac bliss mingled with the burning sting on his erogenous zones, yet all he could do was to bite hard on his lip to prevent lewd moans from slipping out because Chenle's and Jisung's voices were still ringing outside.

  After stimulating him for a while, you wrapped your lips around his tip, taking a small portion of his shaft in your mouth for seconds, before backing out, and then repeating the same teasing process over again. You also intensified the speed of your punishing palms on his ass, making Jaemin unable to hold still. "Fuck!" Jaemin hissed as a string of clear liquid dripped from his slit, indicating his absolute arousal.

  "Hmm looks like someone loves getting punished…" You chuckled as you grabbed his stiff member, tugging it backward, and gently rapidly slapped it. "Ahh...p-please...give me more…" Jaemin pleaded throatily, trembling with desires. "You want more, hmm? Such a greedy little slut." You smirked, also noticing the chattering voices outside were fading. "But slutty himbos like you don't deserve to be pleasured." You said as you picked up the belt, and started thrashing his behind harshly again.

  "P-please noona, I'll be good...just stop punishing me please..." Jaemin begged, at the brink of sobbing. "You want me to stop, huh? Now apologize for being a flirty little brat." You chided, still not planning to stop your strikes. 

  "I-I'm sorry..." 

  "Sorry for what? Be specific!"

  "I'm sorry for being a brat! Ah-"

  "Are you going to stop your flirty ways?"

  "Yes!"

  "Yes what? And shouldn't you be apologizing for this wrongdoing as well?"

  "Yes, noona...I-I won't be flirting around ever again I promise! I'm truly sorry!"

  "Good. From now on, are you gonna be a good slut only for me?"

  "Yes, noona. I'll be good for you, and I am all yours..."

  "Much better." You cooed, finally putting down your belt, delighted at how remorseful and fucked out he was as you soothed his burning cheeks.

  "You can get down now, sweetie boy." You breathed in his ear, nibbling his earlobe gently as you guided him down the chair, hands also working to strip away the rest of his clothing. After that, you adjusted the position of the chair, sitting him down slowly, trying to minimize the stinging sensation on his ass. Your hands then roamed his well-toned torso as your lips connected with his, all passionate and sensual, but only to bind his wrists behind the chair with his belt afterward while he's too immersed in the kiss.

  "W-what are you doing to me?" Jaemin inquired, startled, yet still dazed by your unprecedented sweetness just a moment ago. "We're still not done yet, Nana. And I will make it unforgettable that you should never mess with noona's feelings." You replied with a sly smirk, as you crouched down to slide your fist up and down on his already hardened cock, at a very slow speed.

  "Ahh-noona. Haven't you already spent too much time teasing me?" He furrowed his brows at the slow-burn pleasure, impatiently shifting in his chair.

  "Do you think you have the right to tell me what to do, stupid slut?" You glared as you slapped his dick. "I think I should remind you properly that who's in charge. You are mine and you should never forget that." You gave another slap to his twitching cock, before turning to your bag to retrieve something.

  You approached Jaemin again, his eyes wide at the cup of ice cream in your hand. "Maybe you were already planning this scenario in your mind when you gave me this, what a shameless brat you are." You mused while removing the lid. "An ill-mannered but delicious little boy toy like you should be ravished with another delicacy." You uttered as you scooped and poured the half-melted liquid first on his right nipple, watching him tense up and tremble against the cold fluid trickling down his sensitive areas. Then you did the same with the left side of his body, reveling in the sight of him covered in trails of the milky substance.

  "If we were doing this back in my room, I would have used my squirting dildo to fuck you senseless, then cum all over you, marking you as mine because you are the pretty fucktoy only for me to play with. But now your ice cream gave me better, sweeter ideas..." You chuckled as you set the cup aside, before pressing your lips on where Jaemin's neck was covered with ice cream, sucking and licking it off his skin, focusing on the spots where you elicit the most reaction. Later on, you moved down to his pectorals, flicking your tongue around his sensitive nipples as he squirmed while you took in the syrupy ice cream as well as his scent, fingers making feathery touches on the upper portion of his member.

  You took your time working your mouth gently down his torso until you reached the pelvic region. Pouring more of that lacteous liquid on the area, you pecked the soft delicate flesh before escalating into more aggressive nibbling and intense suction, nuzzling around while skipping the part where he needed you the most, causing him to whine and beg because the overly light titillation on his penile head certainly wasn't enough.

  "Why should I put my mouth on your slutty dick when you aren't a good boy?" You mocked as you swirled your tongue around his lower abdomen. 

  "P-please I'll be a g-good boy just for you. I need it so bad..." Jaemin pleaded between jagged breaths, bucking his hips up to get more contact. 

  "Then in the end, whose heart is the one that is melting like ice cream now?" You grinned, too delighted to use his word and famous verse against him. 

  "It's mine...my heart is a melting drooling puddle just for you...please have mercy on me...ahh..."

  Satisfied with what you heard, you gave his desperate dick a long-awaited nice stroke before coating it with the last bits of ice cream in the cup, then taking a long lick from the base to the tip.

  "My baby boy is the best-tasting popsicle in the world..." You complimented between engulfments while looking straight into Jaemin's lust-filled eyes as he hummed in response. You sucked and toyed with his erection, clearing the sweet white substance from him as if peeling off the wrappers to reveal your much-anticipated present. After the last drop was removed, your lips and tongue still stimulated his tip while your hand came up to pump his base, occasionally trailing down to fondle his balls or even caress his perineum. Gradually you began to pick up your speed, earning delicious moans from him, his whole body trembling at the pleasure you were giving him.

   Just when you noticed how his breathing was reduced to an intense hitching, you stopped servicing him abruptly, making him whine with loss. "Please noona, don't torture me anymore..."

  "Why should I listen to you when you look so pretty getting ruined?" You smiled devilishly while tracing your fingers on his inner thigh.

  "P-please I'll do anything! Just please let me cum..." Tears were gathering in Jaemin's eyes, as his voice faltered.

  "So fucking desperate. Then you will be my obedient fucktoy for me to do whatever I please, right?"

  "Mmm more than happy to." He responded with a ditzy smile as you proceeded to lightly stroke him again. "I only belong to noona and forever will be yours. So please use me hard like the toy I am and make your filthy slut cum."

  "Fuck, such a good boy." You were completely aroused by the impressive capability of Jaemin to come up with desirable responses and how deep he was in his subspace. You jerked him off fervently for a few pumps, then stopped to admire his pulsating cock as well as his frenzied moans and teary gaze, feeling libidinous bliss pooling up in your heat.     

  Resuming to work him up, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft while giving light squeezes and twists to it with your hands, interspersed with kitten licks and twirling tongue, and not ignoring his balls and perineum. You switched between different types of sensations to stimulate him more, noticing his climax building up once again. While he was at the verge, you stood up with your hand still riling him up, fingers of the other hand tugging his hair.

  "You will be a good horny slut only for me, right?" You spoke seductively into his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

  "Yeah, I'll be good and slutty only for you as you please noona…" Jaemin confirmed as his voice trailed off with lust.

  "Then your flirty nature will only display to me exclusively, right cutie prince?" You inquired between planting neck kisses while pinching the soft flesh with your lips.

  "Ahh of course...you are too good to me...I won't make moves on anyone else because no one other than you can make me feel this good…"

  "Such a silver-tongued angel." You praised. "Now cum for me…" You cooed as you pressed your lips against his while intensifying the speed of your pumping hand on his erection, your rough long kisses which moderately smothered his breathing pushing him over the edge even more. A few moments after you invaded his mouth with your tongue to intertwine with his, Jaemin came, his profuse spurts of cum coating your hand as well as his stomach and thighs. You helped him ride out of his intense orgasm by continuing to slowly run your fist up and down his member until his breathing pattern went back to normal.

  "Clean it up like licking off ice cream, just like how I did." You held your cum-covered hand to him and relished the sight of your good boy working his tongue on you obediently. "Such a precious pup." You complimented him after he was done as you proceeded to clean up all the sticky mess on him with wet tissues.

  After you untied Jaemin and massaged his sore wrists, you stood him up. He leaned his head on your shoulder, tightly embracing you like his whole life depended on you as you soothingly rubbed aloe vera gel on his spanked ass. You murmured sweet nothings to him, complimented how good and cherishable he is as you caressed his body lovingly while dabbing soft kisses all over him, making it as gratifying as possible.

  "Is it fair that I am the only one that got to cum?" Jaemin asked while redressing, realizing that he didn't directly pleasure you.

  "Disciplining brats itself is fun enough." You contentedly replied as you helped him button up his shirt. "You can make it up to me next time if you want." You playfully winked at him.

  "Anything for you, noona." He responded with a shy smile.

  "That's my good boy." You beamed while petting his head, fixing his hair shortly after.

  "Dinner with me? My treat." You invited as he nodded in response, internally celebrating the best night ever that is about to come.

#nct #nct dream #jaemin #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #na jaemin #00 line smut #nct hard hours #sub!nct smut #sub!nct #dom!reader #sub!jaemin #my writings #ice cream boy #sub!idol

[ckcker]

I Walk in Madness

Nobody has or can have all the information, but they have the requisite amount of information and agony in combination to believe they accurately see the entire thing.  I don’t and can never have all the information, but still I must have an opinion that seems binding or confident.  The information I selected and pressed into an opinion is now my special soul, and defines me.  It must be released and time-stamped to show that at one point, I made this all-encompassing definition, which is a summary of my self and the window of all my beliefs hereafter.  Elevate yourself to say, “I no longer wonder.”  

I have made myself publicly available; all that the community asks of you is that you participate.  To not participate is to disrespect those who put all of their time, effort and mental filaments into the ideal of community.  Such a reclusive impulse should be modified swiftly but in the most holistic way if possible, it is not helpful for others.  It is not helpful for you.  It is, at heart, cowardly, as it turns away in fear from the difficulties involved in building a resilient, healthy and just community.  It courts isolation as a comfort, when in fact voluntary isolation is the fortification of unhealthy habits and delusional or paranoid thought processes which precariously redirect the lost person away from the tough but rewarding civic duties necessary to building a fact-driven social network.  If I am lonely at night, the solution is to participate.  Though I walk in madness, I end up at the voting booth.  A discussion takes place in which everyone pretends to know how recycling works; one inches towards integration.  Recipes are shared, and an evening passes with an attempt to perfect avocado gazpacho.  

I love traditional open-toed sandals.  Making the body more vulnerable to the elements of the outside world shows a general dissipating apprehension.  Though current events inevitably fade in relevance and thus sustained public attention, their emotional immediacy and rousing thrust are exceptionally good at forcing the under-opinionated to participate and commune with others. Opinions always coalesce under the pressure of current events, and since current events are established and projected much more widely and much more often in this era, it follows that one should have more opinions, and participate more.  Of all the methods I’ve tried, the most effective and least artificial toner I’ve used is two tablespoons of rose water mixed with 1 cup of filtered water.  The rose water I use is a brand from Lebanon and you can probably find it in a local middle eastern grocery store.  Having a very public life no longer makes me uneasy!

I published the post and I was feeling satisfied, though very likely no other person would see it.  My only patron appeared to be a woman in her early 40s with hard bangs and a diamond choker smiling in her icon’s bubble, with arm around a presumed husband and the suggestive text “Be Kind” pegged in lower left corner in hot pink with white outline.  Miscellaneous background details in the icon, particularly a hanging silver streamer, communicated that at the time of the photo this woman had been at a New Years party.  Her silent interpretation of my persistently scarce content was eager musing territory for me when her icon focused my attention in the midst of a wild scroll, or when her face and militarized endorsement of kindness intruded with the elegance of a twirling maple samara upon my mind during a bout of fear-walking.  She made no effort to contact me, had no posts of her own or even personalized layout style, and yet she hypothetically watched me.  Of course it was pointless on her end — my posts were designed solely for the tactical misdirection of algorithmic spectres, conceived and published only in order to convince those supra-wiggly archivists of instinct that I was overwhelmingly a different person.  I did not want even the smallest gleak of truth to land online.  This “lost mind” plan even extended to my video watching and digital window shopping maneuvers, though in the case of the former it was impossible to totally restrain myself from a true curiosity and craving to pursue certain videos.  This lack of impulse control expanded even more robustly when porn entered an afternoon; it was insurmountable to search and watch against the specific desires and images I knew would satisfy me the most.  Yet I tried in rapid toe dips, once spending eleven minutes on a video of a nude bodybuilder shot-putting a collection of corns and lettuces into a wall, and with no o-face to conjure.  

“I walk in madness” was both my unorthodox phrase of meditation and most important sentence of self-parody.  When walking around at night in a certain state, I would now and then repeat to myself, “I walk in madness.”   After this I would laugh and say, “that’s dramatic.”  Self-parody swooped in to dehydrate the potential mirages, delusions.  But no other summary was as accurate — literally I walked in madness.  From the habits of my mind, a complex system had emerged and, quite simply, enveloped my unhinged ass.  I had strobe-nurtured my preferences for “the best way to think” over the last several years, so that now I was only sufficiently energized when mentally combining (1), an act of making fun of myself for feeling out of sorts, with (2), an earnest attempt at my own healing.  This perverse combo made me feel very aware but rarely good.  And when these thought commands then marinated in the head to a fully abusive gush, there was one more thing to consider.  What was the source of that powerful sensation that took me over when I went walking alone and without a plan at night?  What was it in the body that prodded me along that highly nummy snack trail of mini-catharses?  What was the source of those tiny pecks of transcendence that scattered down the back of the neck when nearing the production of an abyss?  That is, I did not only walk in madness because I had to, but also because it had become fun.  It raveled me on a line leading to some other connection, a connection which was not to The World.  It promised recognition of and commune with everything that did not matter or had not ever been confirmed to exist.

These areas were very important to pay attention to — I had ignored them for the majority of my, to be acutely real, goofiest years, it was important to know everything that was possible.  This was my routine.  I walked with glamour in circular patterns around less populated city neighborhoods at night, always listening to music that accentuated a spike in insane flavoring.  I only chose music that had the strength to combine halo and blurred hole, it was always music that floored my sensation to its final speed.  I knew I was so lucky to have built-in machinery that let me expand all of my reserves through music.  It was my only advantage.  It made me proud to turn inward.  If my skill was extreme sensitivity, it could only flourish in its most insular and native format.  

But I desperately needed new songs to fill me up, and over-listened as a resting state.  I over-listened, and a night out, i.e. the sustained advancement of nightlife over several hours, was an exhausting condition for me.  In a bar, I was penetrated by the old song I had heard over two thousand times before, but which now had been remixed in a contemporary style wherein synth stabs commanded by creatine hands had replaced what was once very clean, antiquated AOR guitar strumming.  The popular song I had highly ignored for the length of my life, and which hearing did not provoke outrage (or even flashback to wedding dance floor) but instead perpetual indifference in me, had been updated using the most cutting edge technology to produce aural depths not possible with the recording equipment available when the song was originally produced, and which now plunged the emotions much further down and much harder.  The original voice was now placed in a melancholy minefield of hysterically deep bass and plummeting, omnidirectional dynamics and, when the remix passed through the tequila that I was allowing to patrol my body, it replicated itself with viral menace to produce in me the extraterrestrial threat of a single tear.  

In this instance of a night out, Rob had invited me to this bar and party that I had never been to before.  Where I had expected to see more of his friends or even the endless hallway of acquaintances he seemed to be able to mobilize at random, instead I only saw Gail, revealing the conditions were such that Gail and I were the only people Rob had invited to the event.  There I stood under the song, almost leaking with melody-induced sentimentality or globular nostalgia mucus.  I looked across at Gail who was leaning on a wall, who did not seem to be able to observe me after our initial greeting when I arrived at the bar.  She appeared to not take in much information when moved from location to location, and when looking in her eyes I did not ever get the sensation that enormous perspectival changes were part of her social rhythm.  A common conclusion from a young person would be that she was fried, but whether as a condition of drugs/alcohol/trauma or some combo, there had not been any stories shared on which to focus a rock hard drama-horny eye.  Though I yearned to know what details flanked the long road leading to her hellscape, I realized it was unjust since I wasn’t prepared to present the full set of demonic coordinates that had led to mine.  How can one appeal with another story of lost sleep?  “Awake all night” is not the story anyway, yes we know, please make your complaining entertaining.  I was in the heart of the club, I understood it was not the moment to emerge brumal vapors in the form of uninteresting plot points excerpted from my very personal checklist of booboos.  “Oops,” the convicted serial killer said when the public did not like the realistic paintings he made of his victims while in jail.  Gurn: it was possible for the public to see horrifying paintings made by a serial killer.  

Several screens around the bar played the same music video, which the dance floor area magnified via projection on the wall, so that, in the most emotional part of the bar, emotion was keyed up considerably by the illusion of entering the world suggested by the song.  Rob and the bartender were near cheek-to-cheek, taking turns cocking their heads to the side so the voice of the other could enter the ear successfully over the newest Chicago house-derived, 80s-synthpop-infused rap song scorching the lair.  Gail stayed against the wall, looking around but appearing totally comfortable, a woman in her 60s drinking a High Life surrounded by a different generation, I was moved.  Being young is incredibly dangerous.  The bartender poured Rob and himself shots and they downed them together.  

Snippets of Gail’s circumstances had reached me, I knew she had been living with her son in Texas but now was essentially homeless, that Rob and Q.C. had met her at a goth club where she was hanging out with a much younger woman named Lillian.  Lillian would often be run into at the goth club or other clubs and bars, flirting with Rob and Q.C., and though she was definitely younger than Gail, she wore enough makeup to sufficiently alter minds and, with the support of moody bar lighting that left certain preferred corners in medium darkness, had an age that was unrecognizable.  “My instinct tells me she’s at least 35,” Rob had suggested after explaining to me the situation and after a long silence in which I didn’t respond or engage at all with what he had just said.  The pause had felt uncomfortable and also unnatural after such bulbous gossip so he apparently felt it important to break the silence with this one more detail of her estimated age.  I knew it would make both of us more comfortable if I said something in response to the story of Gail and Lillian but I didn’t, in the end, have anything to say, and so Rob told me he thought Lillian was at least 35, and I responded, “oh.”  Lillian and Gail were good friends and Lillian would often bring Gail along to the goth club; Gail did not dress on theme.  Eventually Rob learned she lived in her car and he invited her to stay with him for an unspecified amount of time.  Inevitably this increased my estimation of Rob’s worldview.  When he would decide once again it was time to throw trash from the neighborhood off the 2nd floor apartment balcony — for instance a decommissioned flatscreen or legless American Girl doll — Gail, watching through the open door from the beige velvet couch, would laugh once.  

Rob concluded his interaction with the bartender, turned to me and explained the bartender was hot and straight, and when the bartender worked the weekly gay night they held at the bar, he would appropriately enhance his image in honor of the conventional gay male eye — pouring himself into a tight black tank top that demonstrated his tactful chest hair and relevant bicep gains was the respectful thing to do.  “I’m going to dance now,” Rob said as a commanding female voice shook the establishment with its first notes.  

I wandered over with him but stuck to the doorway that connected the bar area to the dance floor, watching as he threw himself, alone, into the writhing environs, quite clogged with personal freedoms.  The mass of dancers sang the chorus of the song all together, the subject matter concerned a protagonist that felt jealous and sad to see their long pined after crush dancing with another girl.  In fact the protagonist likely never had a chance with the person who was their crush but had built up a dream narrative in which their idealistic love with this person was nearing possibility.  In the midst of such crushing circumstances, the protagonist, now left alone and heartbroken at some event they likely attended simply to engage further with their crush, has decided to dance through their loneliness despite it all, even if it will only enliven them for a moment, and for the length of the song.  Rob danced “with” almost anyone he turned his body towards.  Some people engaged, dancing back, and others stealthily maneuvered away.  At some point it was discernible that he no longer had on shoes or socks.  A girl very much liked that, drawing her friend’s attention to the fact, then touching Rob on the arm, saying something inaudible.  All three laughed.  I stood and watched, occasionally pinged by passing bodies gunning for the most emotional part of the bar.  I watched the video on the projection screen.  The female vocalist danced specifically, had short pink bowl cut hair, conveyed well-lit and accessible agony.  Several bar dancers unmistakably entered a sub-orgasmic flehmen response.  My left shoulder reflexively darted front and back — a significant space-grabber had brushed me by on their way to the dance floor.  It was eventually revealed to be Gail.  I watched her scream “YAHHHHHHHHHH!!!” as she launched herself into the crowd.  

[taekookismylifeline]

(yoonseok) - trust my heart when it beats for you

ao3: (x)

Summary: Jung Hoseok has had an awkward Thing for Min Yoongi for four years of his school life. He is certain that the only thing that gets in the way of them and everlasting love is the fact that Min Yoongi doesn't know he exists, but that all changes due to one drunken text message: a pick-up line. Ready to flee to another country under a false identity in mortification, he finds himself ruining their blossoming friendship and confessing when Yoongi asks why Hoseok had tried to flirt with him. However, things take a turn after his confession when Yoongi starts to (awkwardly) flirt back.

Pairings: Yoonseok, Taekook and Namjin

Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29)

Chapter Six - the cyber world you use, another world we share, can we be together there?

His mind remained on Yoongi for the rest of the day and once he returned home he barely gave himself time to greet his mum, running upstairs and slamming his door shut. He plugged in his phone and waited impatiently for his battery percentage to increase. He wanted to message Yoongi but something was stopping him, reluctance was slowly overtaking his confidence. He desperately needed a pep-talk of some kind, any kind.

“Hey, ‘Seok, what’s up?” Taehyung greeted, his voice sounding gravelly in Hoseok’s ear.

“Okay, so, dilemma. I’m just about to message Yoongi but I can’t - I can barely hold the phone, I’m so frikkin’ nervous.”

“‘Frikkin’’?”

“Yes, my mum’s home, I don’t want her to hear me swear. Anyway, Tae, I need your help.”

“My knowledge of affairs of the heart only extends to disappointment.”

“Ah, Tae, I’m sorry, I never got to ask. How are you with Jeongguk? How are you feeling?”

“I’m not. My bones are glass and every time I breathe my skin rips-”

“Tae! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, stop it!”

“Fine, fine. In all honesty, I’m pissed at myself. If I had just gotten over my immature shyness and approached him as, like, his senior or something and helped him maybe we would have become friends. Maybe more.”

“I feel the same, Tae. I hate that this pre-puberty awkwardness didn’t... go away. It just got worse because they got hotter and we got more distant. No, you know what, Tae? Don’t blame yourself, blame this stupid school system and how it splits us apart.”

“Hear, hear! But we’ve merged now and you’ve got in with Yoongi, haven’t you?”

“Yeah - oh my god, Tae.”

“What? What? Did he message you?��

“No, I’ve just had an idea!”

“What?”

“If I become friends with Yoongi, we can all hang out. This is your way to Jeongguk.”

“Holy frick.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m being serious. You’re a genius! What are you waiting for? Get to messaging him!”

“Alright!” Hoseok searched for his headphones and plugged them into his phone. He opened the Messenger app and browsed through his most recent contacts. He screeched when opening the chatroom with Yoongi’s profile picture next to it. “Oh, frick, Tae, it’s worse than I remember – I sent him ‘ojg’. What the hell is an ‘ojg’?”

“Well, it definitely isn’t a marriage proposal, so just be grateful,” Taehyung quipped, sounding amused instead of repulsed which was how Hoseok felt with himself.

“You, my friend, suck,” Hoseok muttered whilst his fingers hovered above the keyboard. “Okay, what the hell do I say?”

“Um, how about: ‘I want to suck your dick and have your children.’”

“Really helpful, Tae. Anything else less explicit?” It was at this point that Hoseok half-considered just hanging up.

There was a pause as Taehyung pondered. “I think I’ve got it: ‘Hey’, and then do an emoji, then, ‘are you free after school on Friday?’ Don’t say the weekend because I know that you’ll freak out and get so nervous that you probably won’t show up.”

Hoseok grumbled under his breath but tapped out the message. “Okay, thanks, and now... Send. Oh, god...” He closed the app and threw the phone away from him. He clutched at his pillow. “Tae, can you check your Facebook to see if he’s online?”

“Well done! Um, I don’t think I can, I’m not his friend.”

He groaned and buried his head into the pillow. “I’m talking to Min Yoongi, Tae, after all these fucking years.”

“Hey! What happened to ‘frick’?”

“Frick off.”

“That’s better.”

Hoseok snorted in amusement and instinctively reached for his phone. Just as he flipped his phone around the screen lit up signifying that he had received a notification. A message. A scream clawed up his throat and he succeeded in swallowing it after unlocking his phone. “Tae, Tae, he just replied!”

“Wow, he’s speedy. Maybe he’s just as keen as you, ‘Seok. What did he say?”

“Um...” Hoseok’s eyes darted to the clock on his bedside even though his phone displayed it accurately. “He replied a minute ago and I haven’t opened it.”

There was a sound of movement on the other end of the line. “Open it!” Taehyung commanded.

He did so with shaky fingers and nerves to match. He read the message in his head, and then again, and then again. He only remembered that Taehyung was on the phone with him when he heard a noise of impatience. He read the message aloud. “‘Sounds good, I’ll bring my notes and my fingers.’”

There was a unanimous silence as the two processed it. Hoseok only broke it when he saw the green icon hovering next to Yoongi’s icon. “Um, he’s online-”

“Did he just fucking flirt with you? Hoseok, you asked him on a date and now he flirts with you-” Taehyung cut himself off with a loud exhale of supposed realisation. “Min Yoongi has a crush on you!”

A feeling of intense happiness flourished within him before he remembered the reality of the situation and he deflated just as quickly. “No, no. I didn’t get to tell you all of it - I went to ask him on a date but then he looked at me, like, ‘what?’ So I backtracked and asked to meet him after school to do this history project we were assigned to do together, and he agreed. So, technically, it’s not a date, and he doesn’t know I like him.”

“... Oh,” Taehyung sighed in disappointment but then recovered. “Oh, you should probably message him back. Just be like, ‘hahaha’ and then ask him something. What do you want to know?”

Hoseok typed out the message accordingly and then chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Everything?” He laughed to himself. “Um, I’ll ask if he likes history?”

“Sounds good. Send, send, send!”

Hoseok followed Taehyung’s instructions and sent the message. There was a six minute time difference between Yoongi’s message to him and his reply, which wasn’t bad at all. Jimin probably would have waited a whole day.

Yoongi was online but he didn’t read the message. Hoseok clicked off of the app and checked his other social media whilst Taehyung sung a pop song in the background. After a few minutes, which felt like more than a few years, Yoongi finally messaged back. He tensed and yelled out, “he replied!”

“Oh, yay, what did he say?” Taehyung halted his singing.

Hoseok didn’t have any time to waste, he opened the message straightaway, his pulse hammering against the skin of his neck.

“Okay, he said, ‘does anyone?’ A question with a question, how mysterious - he’s typing!” Hoseok’s hand froze whilst clamped around his phone, his eyes glued to the screen. Taehyung deciding to make noises of suspense in the background did not help his anticipation whatsoever.

“‘Seok, have you died? What did he say?”

“He just asked me if I liked it. What do I say?” He was growing somewhat anxious, Yoongi had most likely seen that he had read the message.

“Just answer it! It’s not me he’s talking to; it’s you!”

Taehyung had made a fair point. With a jittering heartbeat he typed out his response and then sent his reply. “So, what did you say?” Taehyung asked.

“‘how cryptic’, with that thinking emoji, and then, ‘it’s alright, I’d rather do something else with my time though’.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, I have a pretty good idea of what.”

“Don’t be disgusting. Oh, wow. He’s typing...” Hoseok felt pinned in place by the surrealness of the situation. He was messaging Yoongi. They were having an active conversation in which Yoongi was willingly participating in. He must have died in History class this morning and had entered the gates of paradise.

“Don’t keep him waiting then, ‘Seok! Ah – yes? Okay, I’ll be down in a bit – sorry, ‘Seok, I’ve gotta go, it’s dinner for me! Good luck with lover boy, and don’t frick it up!”

“Wait! Wait, before you go he just replied, he said: ‘what would you rather be doing?’ What do I say?” Hoseok had collapsed backwards onto the bed and almost risked throwing himself off of it due to the broken wood panel.

“Hmm...” Taehyung mused. “Say something about your hobbies, and then ask him what he does in his spare time – don’t keep him waiting!” And then Taehyung was gone, leaving Hoseok to fend for himself.

He ejected the earphones from its jack and sucked in his cheek before typing out a response. ‘hmm... idk, maybe dancing or something’, and then he asked the question that Taehyung had suggested. He didn’t have to suffer in silence for a reply as Yoongi messaged back fairly quickly.

Before he knew it, half an hour had passed and he was called downstairs by his mum who was ready to take him to dance class. He bade goodbye to Yoongi and dashed frantically around his room, shoving things into his bag. When he surfaced downstairs his mum took one look at the smile twinkling on his face and asked him why he was so happy. He shrugged his shoulders and lied, saying he was just excited to get to practice.

His phone felt warm in his pocket with the promise of... Something. Something good finally happening after years of waiting. He could hardly wait for Friday.

#yoonseok #yoonseok fic #yoonseok fanfiction #sope #sope fic #sope fanfiction #taekook #taekook fanfiction #taekook fic #namjin #namjin fic #slow burn

[straane]

Motherworld (Ch.2/?)

Title: Motherworld

Author: strane-stelle

Fandom: Final Fantasy X

Central characters: Tidus

Rating: 12+

Chapters: 2/?  Chapter 1  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Word count: 2390

Summary: “The fayth said it’s pointless to keep dreaming. The dream will disappear, he said. What did he mean?” After a long journey, Tidus finally gets to go home.

Warnings: Ton of OCs; slight suspense/horror elements. 

Other comments: credit goes to @shuyiin​ for the idea. (or @leviathkand technically lmao) 

Chapter 2 - Perspective

Within the next week, 'Sin's toxin' had become a well-loved slang word for alcohol. It was simply too wide-spread to name a single type of drink after, to the disappointment of many a greedy nightclub. That still didn't stop them for coming up with their own variants and mockeries: there were at least “Sinner's toxin”, “Gin and toxin” and “Unholy Water”. The mega-popular trend only died down after the Zanarkand Abes board of directors threatened to sue at least a dozen of the most distinguished clubs in town – after all the name had been coined by their beloved top talent, son of Jecht, Young Promise of the Year, and a disaster survivor hero to boot.  

At least, this was the public image of Tidus that they wished to preserve – for as long as possible. To a small group of people on the inside, however, he was starting to look more like a… problem. A fallen star, one that had perhaps burned too bright. A bright red apple practically leaning on the tree-trunk. Blitz elite at the top of their game… swimming against the current to the bottom.

The fame, the grandeur, the screaming fans… the money. It was never enough for Tidus, they said. He was always stuck in his father's shadow. To be sure, the man had been an icon – even at his most disgraced, one strike away from being kicked off the team, he had turned the situation around for himself – he had vanished. Vanished to live on forever as a myth, an otherworldly being; one that they had all perhaps collectively hallucinated. The son had made a name for himself, for sure – but he was never going to outshine Jecht. Not until he had fully embraced the imitative nature of his career, of his stardom, and pulled a mystery death of his very own. Stir together the familiar grieving, the all-too evocative memorial tributes, the sensational news coverage starting to turn mundane, the ingredients of myth cobbler were all in the bowl. Add the secret ingredient – a sudden  inexplicable return – and the bowl toppled over from the swollen dough.

But even that had not been enough, not for this young glory hound. He just had to have the crazy, too. At least Jecht's had been a fairly commonplace kind - “Sin's toxin”, as one might call it now. But Tidus, he would not be satisfied without a gargantuan whale monster, a magical young woman from a paradise island, a corrupt thousand-year-old religion, and a whole another world that they all inhabited. Long story short, either the storm had taken its toll on him in the end, or life had. Everybody knew that the boy had always faced insane pressure; unhealthy expectations; and here were the results. He was also proving to be something of a chronic orphan. The most mean-spirited of gossip, even the tabloids would steer clear of.

Of course, Leo, being a hard-boiled professional (with some help from Bern with the physical task), had removed the troubled teen from the conference by the time he had gotten to “mask-wearing creeps showed up”. Ever since, the sports agent had assumed full-on damage control mode. But new rumors were constantly leaking, either grossly false or scarily accurate ones. And naturally, the boy had told him everything. He had told his doctor everything. And it was up to the two of them to keep him from telling others. The Abes had suffered a huge drop of morale since their key player's disappearance (if also a boost of the legend status) and Leo doubted they could handle a scandal of this magnitude.    

At the moment, the only acceptable narrative (paraphrasing the official statement) was, “he hit his head”. “He went through heavy trauma during the past few months.” “He is receiving the best possible treatment and what he really needs from his fans right now is privacy and respect.” Fortunately, Tidus had always presented a likable public persona, and thus gathered quite a devoted fanbase actually invested in his well-being, so these wishes were being granted, for the most part. No one knew quite what to believe, but everybody agreed that they wanted their favorite blitzer to get better. For every sensational piece twisting every syllable that had (or had not) come out of his mouth at the conference, there was another calling for common sense and common civility, and making huge leaps of rationalization.

Tidus knew that technically, he had made a mistake. He could have played dumb, bellowed “Go Abes!” a couple of times and things would have been fine, in fact his popularity would have likely risen to an all-time high. Why hadn't he, he even wondered himself. The problem with the whole “staying true to oneself” philosophy was that all too often, one would still look like a nutcase to others. Of course they weren't going to take him at his word. The story was bananas. It was as bananas to them as a thriving, pulsating Zanarkand had been to Rikku and Wakka. And not that he needed another reminder, but this place was sorely lacking in people like her.

“I do believe your Zanarkand exists. I really do, you know!”

But Tidus also knew what he had seen, what he had heard; smelled; tasted. He missed the people he had met. Heck, he missed Spira, with all of its backwards ways. His journey – their journey – had forever left a pronounced, profound, near-obtrusive mark on him; he was no longer that bitter little child with bitter little dreams; that used to congratulate himself on the bare minimum – not being his father. Spira had taught him what it meant to be part of something bigger – a bigger person – one might, say, a hero – and how he might go about showing at least a fraction of those qualities – the qualities that he’d so admired in the six individuals he’d gotten to know the best. Make that seven, he mused.  

There was a notion – on first glance an absurd one – lurking in the back of his mind. Days would pass before Tidus could give it words, but when he did, he knew it to be true. Spira was his home. Somehow, at some point, when he had not paid attention, something had shifted. Home. Such a simple word; yet a deceitful one. Never before had he given it thought beyond the obvious, the concrete; the comfortable little houseboat at the Zanarkand bay. Clearly, doing so was a dangerous business. He wasn’t sure just how many more life-changing epiphanies he could take this week.

But what really complicated things was that this place was real, too; the only reality he had known for 17 years. Zanarkand may never have been his true home, but it had been a home. He may not have formed here the deepest of friendships, met people who would change him in such powerful, enduring ways – but he had known companionship, conflict, fondness, playful rivalry. Even back in the day, he used to get on Leo's nerves; he would exchange the occasional witticism with Bern, quarrel with his teammates, answer fanmail, go out with his pals from that awful would-be elite school… turn in his homework five minutes late, have a whole debate with his lecturer on whether or not his future was doomed. He had lived a life.

But it was never supposed to be a problem, Tidus sighed, with something approaching anger. It was supposed to have been a dream. A memory. A live, metropolis-sized museum exhibition, sponsored by the fayth for the exhibits themselves - with an expiration date. He was never supposed to have either life, Spira or Zanarkand. And what an ordeal the fayth had put him through, too; what mental and spiritual gymnastics he had exercised to get from anguished denial to noble acceptance and sacrifice! For this? Was this a joke to them? Did they think it funny, to first sucker-punch him with death penalty; to dangle before his eyes the ticking time-bomb that was his existence; and then cry, “Surprise! Just kidding!”   

Did they think it funny? To put him in impossible situations, constantly pull the rug from under his still-unbalanced feet? Make him a perpetual fish out of water, always longing for – always belonging to –  someplace he wasn't? Never mind those tabloid speculations about Auron – if anyone had abducted him, the fayth had. They had robbed him of his home twice over. To have him be disbelieved, humiliated, deemed off his rocker – again. Dismissed as “sick”. Again.

And what did sick people need? Treatment. 

“This has been our… third meeting now.”

Technically, as meetings went, it was more around their fourteenth. Therapy session, Tidus scoffed to himself, just say the proper word. He supposed that the very thin and wildly ironic silver lining was that on this side of the cross-dimensional fence, he was at least important enough to fuss over. Not so in Spira – heck, he doubted anyone in Trauma Land had ever heard of mental health care beyond pats on the back and campfire anecdotes, and boy, was there a gap in the market. Who would tend to all the overworked therapists, he wondered.

He lazily let his gaze wander around Dr. Cidron's unremarkable office. It was a houseboat as well; on the other side of the Zanarkand bay. It was larger in size and more clinical in design; yet trying very hard to look cozy with pleasant little objects such as flower pots, miniature paintings and assorted blitzball collectibles sprinkled around. The curtains were very deliberately shut and the air felt thick to Tidus's lungs, even with the downright exemplary air conditioning. Dr. Cidron had wanted to take the sessions to Tidus's house, but the patient had refused. He still had trouble embracing the city in its entirety as his new reality, and badly needed the practice. Ideally someplace he couldn't imagine – he could have too easily written off his house as a prolonged hallucination.  

This dour office was a start, he supposed. Although the good doctor seemed to hold quite a high opinion of his patient's creative power.

“And you still wish to call them… your experiences. Not daydreams or fantasies, not hallucinations. I'm only speaking this frankly because you know your agent's thoughts on the subject. And I want to hear yours, while reminding you of--”

“What? The truth?”

The truth was, Tidus had not told Leo or his doctor everything. They'd heard all about the attack on the city, Spira's oddities, Sin – and Tidus in turn had been on the receiving end of both a snappy, self-pitying lecture boiling down to “get it together or get a real job” and a long-winded analytical breakdown on how Sin was a metaphor for his dismissive father, among other things – but neither of his babysitters had gotten the full story. No one had. The story of the summoning of Zanarkand, a city destroyed a thousand years ago, and the phantom citizens that still wandered its ever-lit streets.

After all, judging by the present circumstances, he could've been horribly misinformed on that front.

Tidus opened his mouth, then reconsidered. “I'm… not sure what the truth is, myself. I'm not caving in, I'm… make no mistake about that. But it's not like I'm making this up for fun, y'know? Being called crazy, nuh uh – not my idea of a good time.”

“Yes, I understand.” Dr. Cidron took a short pause, gazing fixedly at his clasped hands resting on the desk between them. “That's exactly what… I guess I want to remind you of the truth as it appears to most people.”          

The man had a point. The truth, right now, was a matter of perspective, with the opposite ends heavily unbalanced, too. No matter how unfair his situation, eventually Tidus would have to accept that not everyone in town – no one in town – had experienced what he had, and perhaps they deserved better than the apparent mad ramblings of an unstable teenage sports sensation. Perhaps it was time he did damage control, too. But which parts could he take back… and did he want to? Perhaps the city was the unstable one here, with its allegedly dubious existence. Perhaps he'd been given a task, a responsibility… to tell them everything.    

“I have to say,” Dr. Cidron began again, “you do paint quite a vivid image. Of this 'Spira'… the corrupt politics, these social structures so completely different from our own. Of these individuals… You know, if the whole blitzball supremo gig never pans out again, you should be a novelist.”

Tidus rolled his eyes, although he felt a warmness from the doctor.

“Funny.”

- -

As very much expected, Tidus found Bern the bodyguard waiting for him outside the doctor's office, with a studious look on his face, which he then awkwardly tried to adjust into a smile.

“Not today, Bern. I need some time alone, okay?” Tidus groaned, then strutted past the muscled tower of a man, and, as annoyed as he was, had to marvel at the empty streets. If anything, his team was superbly competent at making sure nobody knew where he was, ever; in the midst of all this media hassle. “I'll give you paid leave. Overtime pay.”

“Not in the budget, champ,” Bern retorted. “Try again.”

“I wish to be alone... please.”  

Bern shrugged. “I suppose that's fair. I mean, my exact assignment is to accompany you home…”

“Forget about it,” Tidus shot back and on his way he went, well aware of how immature he must have sounded. 

- -

On the deck of his houseboat something else entirely awaited. He could see it from some distance away, and exactly nothing about it invited a closer examination. It was small, it stood completely still, and appeared to emit some sort of whitish glow. It looked familiar in that out-of-place sort of way – when something unremarkable in one environment simply did not belong in another.

It was a fiend.

Tidus instinctively reached for the sword he no longer carried. But the creature was already dying – dispersing into pyreflies. Tidus had at first seen a vague mammal-esque shape, but now the trespasser's true form was growing harder and harder to discern. Apart from the eyes – the vacant, terrible eyes.

“I come from Spira, just like you.”

#ffx #Final Fantasy X #Tidus #ffx fanfiction #fanfiction #i'm guessing there'll be like 5-6 chapters #apologies for any mistakes #pls lemme know if there are any major ones #of any kind #yup yup #i'm trying not to depict zanarkand simply as a 'modern society basically like our own' #but it's hard man #but i really wanted to ditch the #There Are No Therapists trope #hence a therapist #/doctor #a.... psychiatrist #i think it's called #i had something else to comment on but i forget what #anyway enjoy

[heresjeonny]

EXO 101: A Crash Course

Park Chanyeol 

Soft baby by day, sexy mofo by night. Can do everything?? Sing, rap, dance, cook, act, write and produce music, play the guitar (classical, spanish, lead, and rhythm omg) and the piano and the drums, has the body of an elf king. He’s also AMAZING with children as shown [here - skip to 12:17 and WATCH you won’t regret it] and dogs too! All animals really. He’s Korean Snow White. With abs. And if Snow White was extra. 

Also the kindest soul ever. He’s always smiling, even when he’s down. He literally said, and I quote; “No matter how difficult something is, I will always be positive and smile like an idiot.” His then-girlfriend nicknamed him “Happy Virus.” Constantly buys his members gifts, is very tall (well over six feet), and he’s the most extroverted and sociable person - actually friends with everyone. 10/10 amazing human.  

Byun Baekhyun

Don’t let him fool you!!! He looks soft but he will fuck you up with his cheeky lil smile and pelvic sorcery and unearthly vocals and uGH. His wit is unparalleled like omg, so sassy and hilarious and sharp. Also a huge nerd when it comes to anime, manga, and video games. Once gave a picture of himself to another member as a gift, the lil shit.  

He’s incredibly passionate about his career and his members, and I think it was Kyungsoo who said that it’s Baek who keeps them all together at times. In summary: Byun Baekhyun is what happens when a demon and an angel do the do. 

D.O./Do Kyungsoo:

Do Kyungsoo? More like Do Me, Kyungsoo. I’m sorry I’m so thirsty Ksoo...I don’t even know where to begin with this one. First of all, he single-handedly saved the human race from extinction with his voice. He’s savage af, so much so that he’s affectionately nicknamed “Satansoo” and he will smack a bitch. He’s also so soft and squishy at the same time, you’ll get whiplash. And his acTING. Lord in heaven. And I believe he didn’t even have acting lessons?? The nerve of him. He, too, is sex on legs, and he might be quieter than the others, but y’all best listen when he talks cause boy bout to spill the tea. 

He’s also very paternal in that he takes care of the other members a lot, like when Kai, his roommate, isn’t feeling well, he’ll care for him or go out to get food for him. And he can cook really well. I’m gonna stop now before I end up writing an entire dissertation ;’)

Lay/Zhang Yixing

ALSO NOT PURE ABORT ABORT THIS IS NOT A DRILL. 

Oh my god. Anyway. Zhang Yixing is the perfect contradiction. On the one hand, he’s an actual baby lamb - laugh and all. On the other hand, he’s the human embodiment of the NC-17 rating. Like, hide yo kids. Yixing is also one of the Chinese members of EXO, so he often leaves to promote his solo music which is in Chinese, and he works so incredibly hard and deserves all the success. He also writes the lyrics, and composes and arranges the music! 

And...his dancing. Proof that god exists. There is literally no part of his body that Yixing does not have absolute command over - and you can see it because he is so precise, confident, and sexy. :’) 

Suho/Kim Junmyeon

I actually had to cover his face while writing this because holy--

Yup. Moving on. 

Actually, back to his face (and the rest of him): Remember when Da Vinci was conceptualizing the Vitruvian Man (lol only 90′s kids will remember...1490′s kids, that is). You know that picture of the guy with another pair of arms and legs superimposed on him, inside a circle? The drawing theorizing the ideal proportions of the human body? Yup, true story: Junmyeon was Da Vinci’s muse. Suho’s face is so symmetrical, it inspired mathematicians to write the golden ratio. He is a genetic miracle, a statistical outlier, a national treasure--

Anyway *sweats*. ALSO. Let’s talk about his personality. Myeon is the mom of EXO, the leader, so he’s naturally very parental. He actually chose the stage name “Suho” because it means guardian. He always does his best to keep his kids the members together and doing what they need to be doing. Always pays for things ($Junmoney$), and is the person a lot of them confide in and go to for comfort or advice, especially Sehun. 

He’s such a dad too - like his dad joke ratings are off the charts. 10/10 would build you a tree house and tuck you in at night. 

Oh Sehun

Maknae. Icon. Legend. Used to have a lisp. 

People sometimes think he’s cold or reserved because of his face, but as you can see in the gif, he’s literal sunshine. He once cried on stage because he was knocked on the head by a camera - but he wasn’t crying because the injury hurt, he was crying because he wasn’t allowed to perform because of it, and he felt like he was disappointing his fans. He also cried during a radio show when asked about his other members - he said every night before he falls asleep, he prays for them and he prays that they all stay together and are successful and happy. And now I’m crying. 

Everyone is in love with him. 

His dancing resurrected me from the dead, put my children through college, and ended world hunger because damn we are fed when that boy moves. 

Sehun was once invited to Paris for a Louis Vuitton fashion show and became king of France. I’m not kidding. All he did was show up, and there was a huge crowd already there to greet him as if he were royalty, and he was voted best dressed at the show by Vogue. He went to the Louvre, and people were studying and appreciating him, the actual art.  

Chen/Kim Jongdae

Ah, little dino bby. He’s iconic for many reasons: 

1) His smile. It curls up at the corners like this :}

2) When he laughs, he literally goes HAHAHAHAHA like wow, amazing, I want this as my ringtone

3) He screams a lot. Nickelodeon once made a show about him called Jongdae: The Last Pterodactyl. 

4) HIS VOCALS. Un-freaking-believable. He’s the male version of Mariah Carey. 

5) Speaks really good Chinese! (He’s Korean) 

6) An amazing human?? He donates to charity so often and he doesn’t do it for publicity either. He takes good care of the other members too. 

Jongdae, let me put a ring on it. 

Xiumin/Kim Minseok

HERE WE GO. My precious boy :’)

Minseok. The eldest. Also known as the best person to ever exist. Like Kyungsoo, he doesn’t talk much because he’s a shy lil bean, but once he warms up to you, the things that come out of his mouth are so deep and cute and funny and wowow I want ten of him

Is the least likely to cry

Was chubby (and so adorable!!) as a little kid, and now he has a six pack. Because of his weight as a kid though, he has spoken many times about the issue of body shaming and how people’s perceptions of a person shift based on how they look. He once said these words that made my cold, dead heart beat again: “I don’t have an ideal type. If our hearts match well, then she will look pretty to me.” 

Has the strongest arms in EXO. They all arm wrestled and he won and it was the funniest thing ever. 

Is not only an idol, he’s also getting his Ph.D. Dr. Kim. I can’t believe....

Wants to open his own coffee shop, and I don’t drink coffee, but I would chug any dish-water-coffee-grinds-filth that he would serve me because damn I love him. 

Kai/Kim Jongin

R00D MOTHERF*CKER. 

The Bias Wrecker. Or just your bias, plain and simple 

Kim Jongin is one of nature’s greatest accomplishments. His gams are the eighth wonder of the world - and he puts them to use when he dances, like please kick me in the face with those omfg 

His laugh. Astounding. Also don’t stand too close when he laughs because he will hit you. It’s just what he does lmao

He’s basically a hip young old man - so hot but so sleepy. He’ll sleep at any given opportunity. 

Very fond of fried chicken. And dogs. But not in terms of eating, for the latter

Learned ballet for ten years and it shows, and I just wANT TO SEE HIM IN A LEOTARD DAMMIT

He has darker skin than the other members which people used to make fun of him for and still do comment on, but he says he loves it and he is proud of his body :’) we are too bby!!

Other random facts: 

-  EXO originally had 12 members but 3 left and we’re not going to talk about it okay? okay

- Chen and Xiumin are married best friends. Xiumin actually said in an interview that Chen is “like my wife” 

- Sehun is now officially Lord Oh Sehun of Glencoe, Scotland because his fans are the most Extra and purchased the estate for his birthday :’) 

- Chanyeol once folded one hundred paper cranes for his girlfriend as a gift, but in the middle of doing this, she called him and broke up with him

- Baekhyun can’t cook for shit but at least he’s pretty 

- Kai dated F(X)’s Krystal 

- Kyungsoo once said to the camera that he is “not pure” 

- Yixing starred in a gay sci-fi movie where he and this other dude have a baby

- Suho is a health nut. Just like how girls always have pads and tampons on them, Suho has multivitamins 

For @the-porcelain-doll-xo because I’m the friend that wants to drag you into hell with me, and I can’t wait for you to get into EXO ahhhhh ily <33

#this...took so long..... #also damn I just realized that I'm in love with every single one of them #exo #about exo #chanyeol #baekhyun #kyungsoo #yixing #lay #chen #jongdae #kai #jongin #minseok #xiumin #suho #junmyeon #sehun #d.o.