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#I am not a detailed artist swear
halfa-failure · 3 months
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Tried something
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bardicblast · 3 months
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Van der Linde Isaac - "CoS is actually a western" is such a concept ever since i saw somebody pointing that out i kept thinking about it
i rant about the redesign a bit:
so i went ahead and redesigned him to fit the rdr2 setting entirely, i cant give him a full on wolf arm, so i gave him burn scars on his face, that he hides all the time with a scarf or a bandana. hat in the back to replace the hoodie's shape. he is most comfortable using the rolling block rifle plus a knife. he would probably play a lot of five finger fillet.
plus, he gets his arm blown off at one point (not from finger fillet!! i swear), probably during the saint denis robbery, then dies during the guarma chapter, bc there is no way he would survive longer than that
also i cant have him choose sides at chapter 6 when i know he has blind loyalty
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mishapen-dear · 2 years
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i've learned how to draw from complete strangers. like just. little internet tutorials, or seeing how someone draws a nose or a jawline and copying them, or watching speedpaints on youtube and learning what the hell an overlay layer was from that. like sure i've learned a lot of my ability from a few studies and experiments, but my perspective rules? colour theory? shape language? i only knew to study and experiment with those Because of all the tutorials i've seen. the second-most given art advice (beyond "practice") is "see what your favourite artist is doing and pick out what you like about their style!" and! idk! there's something so beautiful about how we're all strangers, but there's so much community in the art community? there's so so many strangers who took time out of their own lives to make flesh clouds or anatomy guides or explain perspective rules, and I wouldn't be where i am today without them. i cannot explain how grateful i am to those people, and how happy i am that so many people fucking. share. sometimes i think about a rose drawing tutorial made by some 15 yo that i watched when i was 12. it was pretty basic im not gonna lie, but i drew roses like that for years. I still draw roses like that when i want to spent a little extra time on them. i saw some artist talking about using thin lines so they'd have to get better with their linework rather than relying on the juicy thick lines, and i copied them and can now wield linewidth like a beast (when. i want to . which is not often). i've watched so many speedpaints that render skin in so many different ways that its all boiled down to the one method i use. neck width. hair physics. hair shine or lack thereof. eyes, pupils, mouth. fucking noses and the million variations. clothes???? idk i am like 100% rambling at this point but it's so fuckin nice to look at my art and see the ways i've been shaped by the kindness of other people
#mishapen rambles#i am completely incoherent tonight and thus it is Text Wall time#i bet id be really good at writing an essay rn im so fuckin verbose#anyway this is why i LOVE it when people talk about their creative processes#do you create things? want to talk about it? PLEASE DO#there are people who will see it and will learn from it#even if youre 'not good enough' i swear 12 yo me beginning artist baby would have had no idea how to spot a single one of the mistakes#you're agonized by. again ive now surpassed the skill of that rose tutorial but i still think about it a lot and how i couldnt see any erro#it's stunning to show a non-artist a piece you're not happy with and they're just. amazed#i once drew a real Shit Pile worthy face in front of my dad and one of his work friends and they were blown away by how fast i made it#idk just hey here's a love letter to everyone who shares anything about their creative process#ilu you're doing great and are a vertebrae in the backbone of this community#this all goes for writing too but the circulated writing tricks seem to be. trendified? more often than art tips#hey fun fact you can use 'said' as many fuckin times as you want i prommy#you don't always need whatever big fancy phrase or detailed description#if it hurts to write just don't write it#you will get so much farther with two sentences than a three paragraph slog#this mishapen dear is full of too much love for the creative community and all the people who never knew her but still taught her
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k-hotchoisan · 6 months
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Yunho smut with his hands? 🥴
Oh god I love his hands I want them around my neck so bad. My choking kink is off the fucking charts whenever Yunho’s hands are present. Here’s something for you, pretty. Enjoy Yunho and his pretty little hands.
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Synopsis: what are the odds of getting a tattoo and getting fucked by your tattoo artist because you cannot stop staring at his fuckin hands
Warnings/genres: tattoo au!, mention of needles, slight size kink, choke kink, unprotected sex, hands kink, cream pies, fingering
A/n: I am so sorry for the amount of typos. I fucking swear this isn’t what usually happens omg
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You stood before the apartment door, double checking that you got the right address—yeah you definitely did. He did mention that it was a home-based studio. Your first tattoo appointment and you were so nervous because you don’t know what to expect. Hongjoong had assured you to just go with an open mind. You didn’t know much about your tattoo artist, only knowing that his name was Yunho, nonetheless, you did really like his art style, and you soon settled on him with Hongjoong’s advice.
Back to present, you pushed the doorbell, and it echoes through the apartment. There is a silence before the doorknob clicks. The door pulls back, and before you, stood a really tall male. His sharp eyes make him look very intimidating and for a moment your heart races, and you wonder if you stopped into the wrong house.
“You are?” He asks, and rumbles you even more because his voice is so fucking deep for no reason.
You manage to find the voice stuck in your throat, as you reply, “y/n, here for a 7pm tattoo appointment with Yunho?”
His face softens immediately as his eyes brighten up. “Ah right! Yunho’s client! Come in. I’ll get Yunho in a bit”. He ushers you in as you remove your shoes.
You step inside, soaking in the interior of the apartment. It was definitely a shared space—the common areas were spacious, maybe just spacious enough to serve for two people. It was a pretty clean looking, monochromatic layout.
“Oh right, my name’s Mingi. Song Mingi, but you can call me Mingi”, he introduces himself brightly, his smile contagious. “I’m his room mate.” You smile back.
“Please excuse the mess by the way”, he laughs as he leads you through the corridor, and the both of you are standing in front of a wooden door. Mingi knocks the door before saying “Hyung, I’m coming in” with a raised voice. He pushes the door handle down and the door opens. The subtle hint of lavender hits you from the humidifier and it instantly relaxes you.
On the cushioned rolling stool sat your tattoo artist, his frame is as tall as Mingi’s, messy brunette locks tussled on his head. He’s in simple black shirt but he still looks so fucking good. He’s absorbed on his iPad, still sketching out the little details of what seems to be your tattoo.
You feel your heart beat a little too quickly the moment your eyes land on him because you did not expect him to be that attractive.
And you are gonna be stuck with him for at least a couple of hours together.
Mingi raps the door again, and that’s when Yunho looks up, and you take a good look at his face. He doesn’t look like whatever you expected him to look like, well, not that you had any pictures to reference him from to begin with. But definitely, he is pretty fucking good looking. You stay rooted at the entrance of the door, mooning over your tattoo artist in a tight black shirt while he eyes you up and down with a soft smile.
“Oh right! My apologies”, Yunho finally speaks and he sounds like honey, and it suddenly makes you slightly thirsty. “Hey. I’m Yunho. We finally meet”, he greets with a hand up.
His fucking hands. Oh my fucking gods. He has a silver ring cuffing his index finger. Then he beckons you to go over to him. Mingi tilts his head to Yunho’s direction before saying that he needs to leave, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.
You have no choice but to inch closer to Yunho, who’s smiling at you like a fucking golden retriever, and you wonder to yourself ‘this dude is a fucking tattoo artist?’ Yunho beckons you to take seat on an empty stool across him as he mentions to give him a couple more minutes to finish up the design draft. You nod, even if he doesn’t see it since his attention is back on his iPad. You quietly stare at the way he makes his strokes with his Apple Pencil.
And you get a closer look at this long, slender fingers. You’ve never met anyone with such pretty hands before, yet the way he holds the pencil is so gentle, and almost attractive for some reason. It’s especially the way his fingers are veiny and long—his joints are angled in such a way it frames his fingers so fucking prettily. Yunho looks up and catches your gaze, and you flinch slightly, thinking you are caught in the act.
“Eager to see your design?” He asks playfully, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. Oh thank fucking god.
“Yeah of course. I wonder what you came up with”, you quickly say, pretending to peek over at the iPad.
He brings up the iPad higher to his eye level and it’s the way his fingers curls around the tablet. He flips it over to you and you soak in the design he drew out for you. It’s what you wanted. You also don’t miss out how clean and neatly trimmed his fingernails are.
“Is it to your taste? Got any last minute changes you want before I print it out?” He asks, as he stands up and walks over to the printer. You shake your head slowly, trying not to swoon at how deliciously tall he is.
He beams. “Great! Then I’ll print a couple of sizes out. Take your pick okay? I’ll go grab some water for you.” You nod as he disappears out of the room through the door. The printer starts up and it begins to print out the stencil.
You look around the room. Despite it looking small, it was pretty cozy looking. The room has comfortable lighting, with lamps, which you assume are for the tattoo work. There’s a small space just behind the empty stool you’re seated on, with smaller studio lights pointing towards the wall, which you deduce is probably where he takes photos of his finished products. His tattoo machine sat near to the tattoo bed, which was cling wrapped for sanitary purposes, including the pillows. Finally, a small desktop computer set up was against the wall, perpendicular to the small studio lights, with a printer at the side. The door knocks, a short pause before it pushes open, and it’s Yunho with a drink in hand.
He walks over to you and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours and it takes you so much nerves to have any wild thoughts. You take a sip to distract yourself as you hear scissors cutting through the tracing paper. As you open your eyes, Yunho is so fucking near your face that it makes your heart jump.
“Oh gosh! Did I scare you?” Yunho laughs as he takes the cup from your hand. “My apologies.”
You shake your head. “It’s fine. You just move so quietly”, you joke. Yunho smiles in reply as he places the cup on his desk.
“I need you to lift your shirt up for me”, Yunho instructs, staring at your abdomen.
Fuck, for a moment your mind plunges into some unknown territory. You forgot that your tattoo placement was above your hip. You roll the fabric up high enough, and you fucking jump when you feel Yunho’s fingertips brush against your skin, on your waist. “It’s here right? The placement that you wanted?” He confirms, his touch not leaving your skin. “Yeah”, you manage out.
He cuts a piece of tape to adhere the stencil onto your skin before bringing you over to the full length mirror right by the bed to let you confirm your placement. After a few adjustments (and hell of of him touching your waist with his bare hands which was definitely giving you insane haywire thoughts), you came to a placement which you are satisfied with. He sticks the stencil to your skin, much like a temporary tattoo, pulling out the tracing paper and letting it dry, before having you lie down in the bed as he prepared his inks.
“First tattoo?” He asks as he checks his gun.
“Yeah”, you reply, playing with your fingers from the nervousness.
Yunho chuckles. “That placement might hurt a little though. You’re a brave one.”
You only release a nervous laugh—wondering if it is for the tattoo or because of Yunho. He turns to you, tugging against his ring to remove it before snapping black latex gloves on before pushing your shirt higher. You bite you lip.
How the fuck does his hands look even better gloved? The black latex only enhances the length and shape of his hands, which curls around his tattoo gun.
“I’m gonna start now. Let me know if you need a break, yeah?” Yunho assures. You know it’s probably a customer service thing but god, why did he have to be so attentive?
He switches on the gun and it buzzes. He begins tattooing and sure enough, the placement you picked definitely hurt quite like a bitch, but you force yourself to pull through it.
“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” He asks before continuing.
“It does, but I think I’ll be fine”, you reply, thinking of something else to distract yourself from the pain. Throughout the session, Yunho makes conversations with you, making you laugh when you probably shouldn’t because he was stabbing needles at your waist but still. He was amazing at breaking the ice, especially in such a seemingly intimate space. You feel yourself unwind a little, and although it still hurt, you don’t feel so tense anymore. Nonetheless, you could not shake the thought about his hands running down your body every time you glance at Yunho doing your tattoo.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I even wanted to get a tattoo when I have a shit pain threshold”, you say in between soft giggles to cover up the pain and soreness that was starting to sink in.
“But you’re doing so well for me”, Yunho replies absentmindedly with a smile. Your head spins the moment he says that, butterflies were invading your stomach. What the fuck was that even? Now your stomach in twisting into knots when he’s praising you like that.
“We’re almost done. Hold on a little longer for me yeah?” He assures again, as you bear through the pain. It’s over quickly as he smoothes over your tattoo with a final swipe of the paper towel. He moves back a little to admire his work. He looks satisfied. He pulls his gloves off and sits you up gently, your stomach still fluttering as his fingers brush against your skin. He brings you to the full length mirror, and there you admire how gorgeous the tattoo looks.
“It looks amazing” you gasp, turning your side to have a better view of it. Yunho looks proud. He has his phone in his hand now and requests a few photos, which you obliged to of course. He adjusts your shirt before snapping a few pics.
“I really like how this turned out,” you gush. “Thank you Yunho.”
Yunho shakes his head. “Thank you for entrusting me to it, especially as your first tattoo.”
You laugh in response, and you don’t realise that he’s kneeled down at your waist, preparing to stick on the second skin. He sticks it on and instructs you on proper tattoo care before making another appointment for a touch up. You thank him and left the apartment, heart still beating in your ears.
You’ve developed a way too big of a crush on your tattoo artist now.
The touch up appointment came way too quickly than you thought. To be fair, you were still not over it, and as much as the tattoo scabbing and itch , it couldn’t compare to way Yunho’s hands kept brushing against your waist, as he checks on your tattoo. But in the past month, all you think about was Yunho and his fucking hands. Even now, when he’s only taking a look at your healed tattoo, your mind in swimming in the most dirtiest places you wanted him to touch.
You shut your eyes and bite your lip so no weird sound comes out from your mouth. You feel Yunho’s breath right at your waist as it tickles your skin, a soft sigh escapes your lips as your tattoo artist continues to rub against the tattoo.
And it doesn’t go unnoticed by Yunho.
He could very easily just tug your pants down and you would let him because fuck, he’s all you can think about now. Yunho stands up, and definitely notices how flushed your skin is looking, and he decides to test waters. He traps you at the tattoo bed, and you hear your heart in your ears as he inches closer. Now he’s pretty much towering over you as his fingers are tracing against your waist, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Your tattoo healed so nicely”, he says, hooking his index finger and thumb to your chin so you’d meet his gaze. Your gaze travels down to his pretty lips and he takes it as a sign to cup your neck and pull you in for a starved kiss, sending your mind into a fucking frenzy, and fireworks to go off in your eyelids. He tastes even better than you thought. Your eyes flutter open as he pulls back, catching your breath.
“Won’t Mingi hear?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Not anytime soon, doll.” His little pet name making you flush even harder, and it all goes down to your pussy, which is getting wet enough already, no thanks to your little fantasies and the fucking kiss.
“Now, stop thinking about him when I’m here.”
His hands touch your waist again, as he lifts you onto the tattoo bed, the plastic crinkling beneath you. You watch him breathlessly as he tugs against your bottoms, and your clothing articles drop to your ankles. Yunho doesn’t let them touch the ground, instead, he folds it hastily onto the other side of the bed, before turning his attention back to you, or your wet and sopping pussy.
Yunho licks his lips, before stroking your thighs to coax you to spread your legs open, and you do, your eyes following the way his fingers are stroking your thigh, alongside the ticklish feeling it was sending straight to your cunt.
“Such a pretty pussy, doll”, he compliments, his fingers trailing down your slicked cunt, before stopping right at your hole. He hears your little whimpers and cries, and it goes right to his hardened cock that’s pushing against his pants. But he knows being patient reaps the best rewards. He can be patient for you. Yunho’s fingers slowly plunge into your cunt, and your back arches in pleasure, because oh my fucking god, his fingers are long enough to hit a spongy area and it was sending fucking stars beneath your eyelids. Shivers tickle your spine as Yunho’s lips land soft kisses against your skin on your neck. His finger fucking was sending you into the heavens.
A kiss on your cheeks makes your eyes flutter open, and you meet Yunho’s gaze.
“I’ve noticed”, he sighs, slowing down his finger fucking in you. “That you seem really entranced by my hands since our first session.” Then he plunges his fingers in again, another cry leaving your lips as your eyes roll back.
Fuck. He found out.
“You have such pretty hands”, you admit, hiding your face with your arms, wondering what was more embarrassing—the fact that he found out about your fixation with his hands, or that he’s fucking your cunt with said fingers.
“So I should make really good use of it, right?” Yunho chuckles, adoring the way you’re squirming under his touch. He pulls your hands off your face and holds them down, and oh god, he was truly trying to drive you insane. He picks up the pace and every time his fingers press against your g-spot, your moans only grew louder and more desperate, and Yunho is progressively losing his rationale. He wants to fuck you so bad right now, and the thought of him railing you on his workspace only heightened his arousal, because he has never done that before.
Your orgasm only builds up even more quickly when he thumbs your clit after releasing your hands. Your hands are clawing his arms.
“Yunho, please. Oh god. That feels so fucking good. Gonna cum.”, you cry, lifting your legs higher, and that only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, and the words that leave his lips-“cum on my fingers baby. You know you want to”- and a whimper escapes his lips the moment he feels your walls clench against his fingers, as moans pours out of you when your orgasm floods your senses. Yunho lets you ride your orgasm out, slowly pushing his fingers in and out again, enjoying your cunt squeezing his fingers. He pulls out slowly and you barely catch your breath, as your gaze meet his. His fingers are full of your slick and cream, and plasters it on his lips, giving them a lick before sucking this pretty fingers, covered in your arousal, fucking clean. That does nothing but throw your head into a frenzy, and your cunt clenches at nothing, as you struggle to keep your composure.
But now Yunho is the one starting to lose it, as he haphazardly wipes his fingers on his slacks before hastily pulling his pants down, his cock springing out, glimmering with precum already, very evident thanks to the studio lights. God fuck, as if his hands weren’t pretty enough, his dick is too. Yunho bites his lip, staring at how fucked out you looked, especially since he hasn’t even fucked you good yet. He pushes your knees to bend even more, before lining his cockhead to your hole before sinking his cock right into you. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open at this point. Your cunt feels slightly sore, and your walls are hugging his cock so well that Yunho is fighting not to just fuck you senseless. Yunho groans at the sensation, but he leans in for another hungry kiss with you, before his hand snakes around your neck.
He pulls back. “I’m sorry. I really need to fuck you so bad right now. Fuck.” You can’t help but find that so endearing that he’s holding back. Your fingers tug your folds open more, letting him sink his cock further deeper into your heat, which makes him squeeze your throat. It feels so fucking amazing to have Yunho choke you out like this, and you make it even more evident by clenching around his cock.
He doesn’t hesitate this time, and starts fucking you so deep and good, that you fucking swear you see a bulge below your belly button every time his cock hits your cervix. The sensation of Yunho’s cock stuffing you full every time he thrusts into you paired with his hands around your neck—softly squeezing and letting go—is only pushing your second orgasm to hit you.
“I would have never guessed that you’d get off my hands this much”, Yunho hums, looking at the way your eyes are rolled back as his balls slap your ass every time he fucks into you, your hands grabbing onto his arm, clawing again from the bliss he’s fucking you into. “Do you like them that much?”
You fight every nerve to focus on answering him, eyebrows scrunched. “Y-yeah. Fuck, I fantasise you choking me out like this since that day. I dream about letting you do whatever you want to me with your han-“ getting cut off from a sob as his cock fills you up again—or did he just grow even bigger in you? Ah, fuck, it doesn’t matter.
“Naughty girl”, Yunho mutters with a smirk, his free hand slapping against your ass, the sound rippling through the room, making you arch your back even more.
“Yunho, p-please’, you stutter, the knot in your stomach so taut. “I think I’m gonna cum again”. Now you’re sobbing. This only encourages Yunho to tighten his grip around your neck as his strokes become harder, and you snap—broken sobs leaving your throat as your cunt fucking squeezes Yunho’s cock, the sensation of his hands around your neck only amplifies your orgasm as stars burst in your eyelids, and you cream so fucking much, that it gets onto the cling wrapped bed below you. Yunho immediately loses it, his thrusts becoming straight up ruts. He releases his grip from your neck, and the oxygen returns immediately, leaving your heaving. Yunho is leaning into your ear, as his both hands are now on your waist as he fucks desperately into your overstimulated cunt.
“You’re so fucking adorable, y/n. I’m cumming too”, he grunts, as he ruts a final time before a soft moan hits your ears, then a flood of his warm cum right into your spent pussy, and oh god, did that feel amazing. Yunho stays by your side for a moment, before straightening his back, and pulling out, not missing a beat at the way his cum just trickles down your inner thigh, out of your hole.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. This is your work space and all”, you panic, taking a handful of tissues that Yunho had offered to clean yourself up. Evidently, that doesn’t get to him because Yunho immediately rushes over the moment he notices the red marks around your neck.
“Shit, did I choke you too hard?” He asks rather frantically, lifting your chin up, rubbing against your neck gently. You shake your head, suddenly wanting to just kiss him again, but you hold yourself back. “Also, don’t worry about this. My next appointment isn’t until 4pm. I have time to clean up. You alright though?”
Fuck, why did he have to be hot and gentle? It was genuinely driving you nuts. “Is it okay if I use the toilet?” You ask, fitting your clothes on. Yunho immediately nods, rushing to the door to leave it open for you, as you gingerly head to the washroom.
You sigh as you leave the washroom, wondering if it was about to simply be a one time thing, because you were falling for your tattoo artist, hard and fast. Your gaze meets Yunho’s the moment you shut the door behind you, and Yunho has cleaning supplies in his hands. Suddenly your face flushes again, thinking at the mess the both you made.
Yunho’s smile doesn’t falter though, and you see a tint of red colouring the tips of his ears, which you could have definitely missed if you hadn’t noticed closely. There’s a strange air of silence between the both of you, that is, until Yunho speaks.
“My 4pm client is my last one for the day. I’ll text you when I’m done, if you’re down for dinner?” He asks, rubbing the nape of his neck shyly. Oh my fucking god. You laugh softly, because, holy shit, you never expected this outcome, and then you nod. “I’ll be waiting, Yunho”, you reply.
Yunho steps forward to you and strokes your head. “I’ll see you to the door then. And then I’ll see you tonight.”
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querenciasturniolo · 9 months
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This is such a random concept but can you write something to do with the triplets finding out you’re a fan of there’s (which is shocking cuz you’re a well known singer) and you guys finally meet up for a car video and Chris, who’s usually really talkative, gets really quiet and nervous and Matt and Nick catch on to why and they end up teasing him…
favorite ⮕ c.s.
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word count: 2.7k
warnings: swearing, teasing, she/her pronouns
summary: the triplets invite you to to do a video with them after a viral video at your last concert on tour, and teasing ensues when chris is awfully quiet for once
a/n: this one is a little longer, but only because i am awful at transitions and find way too much detail important. this was SO fun to write, i hope i did it justice 💓
{i am NOT calling fangirls losers, at all. i am a fangirl and a loser, but that doesn’t mean everyone is. i wrote y/n saying she was a loser bc i thought it was funny, carry on}
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
part one || part two
“You have stated multiple times before that you’re a fan of many people, whether they’re artists or creators of some sort. Any you’d like to mention?”
“The Sturniolo triplets, easy. They’re content creators; they make these car videos and they’re absolutely hilarious. I found them on Tiktok about a year ago, and I’ve been watching them ever since.”
A single answer to a question had your fans going absolutely ballistic.
It was your fault, of course, but you didn’t think they would act like this. In every one of your posts, more comments than not were about the triplets. You found it more funny than anything, knowing that your fans were just excited that you enjoyed the same things they did.
At the closing show of your tour, you had just finished your last song, and you looked out at the crowd one last time to realize that this wasn’t going to go away. A single sign in the crowd had you laughing and shaking your head.
DO A VIDEO WITH THE TRIPLETS
You pointed at the sign as you walked back to leave the stage. “The ball is in their court, now.” You said, the crowd going ballistic as you finally stepped off of the stage.
After that, it seemed radio silent for a while, but you had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. It had been only a few weeks since that show, and you were just hanging out at your apartment, one of your best friends sitting across from you on the couch.
“Y/n, have you seen this?”
You looked up from your phone and glanced at her screen, a video of your last concert playing. The sign was shown before it was turned around and the camera was on you. You saw you grin and laugh at the sign and point, saying what you said before. The moment you finished, you heard the fan scream and other screams around her completely fucking with the speaker.
“I mean, I remember that happening, but I haven’t seen the video, why?” You asked, handing her phone back to her. She raised her eyebrows and kept her phone screen facing you.
“It’s viral.”
Your eyes immediately went to the likes, and you were shocked to see there were over four million. “Holy shit.” You mumbled, your phone vibrating in your hand. You looked down, your jaw dropping when you saw the DM before you. “Holy shit!”
nicolassturniolo: hey! would you want to be in a car video??
You stared at the screen, completely speechless as you looked between the DM and your friend. “What the fuck do I say?” You asked, finally opening the message. She laughed from across from you and you couldn’t help but stare at her, completely bewildered.
“Say yes? It’s a pretty simple answer.” She said. You nodded your head and answered Nick quickly, asking him when they wanted to meet up. “How are you fangirling right now?”
You looked up again and frowned. “Because I’m a loser, obviously.” You said, your friend laughing and shaking her head as she dropped back down on her side of the couch.
You and Nick messaged back and forth, you finding out the details of the video and where they wanted to meet up. You decided tonight would be best for both of your schedules, and you were chomping at the bit to get ready and get there. You’d never done anything casual like this, only professional interviews and somewhat press-related conversations. You had no idea what was going to happen in this video, except for the general idea of it being a Q&A between the four of you.
Driving to the meetup spot had your entire body on high alert, excited to meet the triplets, but also terrified to do so. You were a fangirl at heart, but you refused to show it. You pulled into the parking lot, looking around for the van.
The moment you saw it, you took a deep breath and pulled up next to it, frowning and looking around at the desolate parking lot. Before you could even fully get out of the car, Nick was opening the back door of the van and waving at you. You grinned and shut your door, locking your car out of habit and heading towards the van.
“Hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Nick said, stepping out of the van and giving you a hug.
You chuckled and pulled away, shrugging your shoulders. “You too! I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous as hell on the drive over.” You said, following Nick’s lead and climbing into the van after him, awkwardly climbing over him. You looked at Matt and Chris, your smile wide as you nodded in acknowledgement. “Hey.”
“Why were you nervous?” Matt asked, your cheeks heating up as you shrugged your shoulders.
“I’m a big fan, and extremely awkward, if you couldn’t tell.” You said, the three of them laughing and adjusting themselves to face you.
“It’s totally fine, you should have seen Nick before you pulled up.” Chris said, Nick’s jaw dropping to the floor as you looked over at him with a similar expression. The conversation mellowed out shortly after that, your nerves dissipating as you got more comfortable.
“Okay, so here’s our idea.” Nick started, your eyes meeting his immediately. “You hide behind Chris’ seat while we introduce the video, and when we say we have a special guest, you pop up and introduce yourself.” He finished. You nodded your head, fighting your smile as you wedged yourself between Chris’ seat and the seat you were sitting in on the floor.
“Matt, go check the camera.” Nick said. You covered your mouth to avoid laughing at the ensuing argument.
“Nick, why do you never check the fucking camera, this is ridiculous.” Matt grumbled, climbing out of the car to check it. Nick looked down at you, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. You snorted, and waited patiently for Matt to get back into the car.
“Alright. Today, we’re doing a Q&A, but we have a little surprise for everyone.” Chris said. He adjusted in his seat, you only knowing this because the movement pushed you into the other seat harshly. You couldn’t help but groan at the pressure of the seat against your side, smacking your hand over your mouth as Nick threw his head back and laughed.
“We have a special guest, if you couldn’t tell by Chris breaking her ribs. Come on out, reveal yourself.” Nick said. You shoved yourself out from behind the seat, your hand pressed against your side as the four of you laughed. “So, a video went viral of Y/n at one of her concerts challenging us to get her in a video.”
You scoffed and looked at Nick. “It wasn’t a challenge at all. Someone in the crowd had a sign that said I needed to be in a car video, and all I said was that the ball was in your court.” You defended playfully, Nick holding his hands up in mock defense. “I didn’t realize how insane that interview would go. I said I was a fan, and all of a sudden everyone was tagging me in your posts and telling me I needed to be in a video.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.
“Alright, introduce yourself to the video, and tell them if you have anything coming up, if you want.” You looked at Matt after he spoke, realization dawning on you as you nodded and finally looked at the camera.
“Oh, right. I’m Y/n. I just announced my new single Changes that comes out in a few days, go listen if you want.” You said, looking between the three of them to make sure that was alright. Chris chuckled and nodded, facing the camera and pulling his phone from his pocket.
“So, this Q&A is different for a few reasons. One; we have a special guest, which you already know. And two; we decided to ask her some questions, and she’s going to ask some questions that she has for us. We will be answering some fan questions as well, since we only came up with a handful of questions.” Chris said, Nick gesturing for him to speed up.
The video progressed with the four of you rapid fire asking questions about your careers and other random things, occasionally debating when someone said something the others thought was outrageous.
“How long have you been a fan of ours?” Chris asked. You met his eyes and felt your face heat up before you looked away quickly and shrugged.
“I saw a clip of one of your videos on Tiktok about a year ago, and looked that specific video up. It was the one where Nick’s yelling about a staff, I believe.” You said, Nick sighing and shaking his head.
Chris chuckled and nodded his head. “Nick yelling seems to be a common theme in people looking us up, so that makes sense.”
“When did you become a fan of mine?” You asked, Nick nearly dropping his drink as he put it into the cupholder. You laughed and braced yourself as Nick held up his hands.
“I found your first album by accident a few months after it came out, and I blasted it on repeat for weeks after that. I may have forced Matt and Chris to listen to it, but they fucked with it heavy, no matter what they say.” Matt rolled his eyes with a smile and grabbed his phone, scrolling through the questions.
“It’s not my type of music, but it definitely isn’t bad. The lyrics were definitely my favorite part, you’ve got a way with words.” Chris said, Matt nodding and meeting your eyes as well.
You blushed and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you, that means a lot. I always try to tell a story with my songs, so I’m glad that my lyrics show that.” Jesus, you couldn’t take a compliment to save your life.
A few more questions were asked and answered before Matt spoke up.
“This is a fan question; who’s your celebrity crush?” Matt read, dropping his phone into his lap and looking back at you. You looked up and thought for a moment before shrugging.
“I guess the easy answer is Ryan Gosling, or something, but I’m not exactly sure—oh! I take that back, Harry Styles for sure. I’d love to do a song with him, it’s been one of my dreams since I started making music.” You rambled, the three of them humming and nodding their heads. “What about you guys?”
Matt spoke first, his answer completely outrageous and out there. Nick refused to answer, and that’s when all three of you realized that Chris was silent. You looked at him, his eyes focused on the center console.
“Chris?” You asked. He looked up then, which is when you noticed his pink cheeks.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to answer this question, let's move on.” He said, turning to face forward again. You frowned and looked between Matt and Nick, who were staring at Chris confused.
“Why are you acting so weird—oh.” Nick said, the confusion on his face morphing into a sly smirk. “I see.” He said, looking at Matt. It took Matt a little longer to get there, but soon he was grinning and shoving Chris’ arm.
“Come on, Chris. Just say it.” He teased, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between all of them.
“I have no idea what the fuck is happening, but alright.” You said, turning your attention to Chris. He shook his head and looked over at Matt.
“I’m not saying it, just move on.” He said, an amused smile on his lips.
“Why? Is it because she’s in the car?” Nick asked. Your face heated up immediately, your eyes meeting Chris’ shocked gaze. Matt smacked his hand over his mouth to cover up the laugh that nearly knocked him forward.
“Nick, cut that out.”
Nick’s laughter rang through the van as he fell backwards in his seat and shook his head, Chris’ embarrassed chuckle pushing past his lips as he looked at you one more time.
“You could have denied it!” Matt finally said, all four of you completely losing it and doubling over. You’d never laughed so hard in your life, and you were glad you agreed to do this.
Chris sat up and wiped at his eyes, the remnants of his laughter still showing on his face as he shook his head. “I could have denied it, but I’m not a liar.” He said, avoiding your eyes completely as he took a sip of his Pepsi. “So yeah, my celebrity crush is Y/n, sue me.”
Your mouth went dry, not expecting him to say it out loud so bluntly.
“Okay! Next question!” Nick said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You shook your head and smiled as you waited for his question. He dropped his phone in his lap, a mischievous smile on his face as he gestured to you. “Who’s your favorite triplet?”
You groaned and threw your head back, looking forward again to see all three pairs of eyes glued to you intently. You blinked and looked between them, shaking your head when seeing their goofy smiles.
“I plead the fifth, absolutely not.” You said, all of them laughing and shaking their heads.
“Oh, come on! Just say it!” Matt said, resting his head on his hand and widening his eyes at you.
“No feelings will be hurt, just tell us.” Nick said, your eyes meeting his as you shook your head.
“It’s me, guys. It’s official.” Chris said, your head whipping in his direction. Your face felt like it was on fire as the silence continued and he held your gaze. Nick was the first to lose it, grabbing your arm as he dropped forward and laughed uncontrollably.
“What is with you two?! Just deny it or something!” He said, Matt and Chris joining in and covering their faces with their hands. You sighed and shook your head.
“I’m not a liar, either. Let’s move on.” You said, picking up your phone and going through your notes app.
“Favorite song, not just by me, any song in general.” You said, the conversation changing immediately. When everyone was done filming, you said your goodbyes and stepped out of the car. You weren’t expecting them all to jump out of the car as well.
“Do you mind taking a picture with us for our photo dump? It’s totally cool if not.” Nick asked.
“Oh! For sure, could I get a picture for my Instagram too?” They nodded, and you took a few pictures, some were serious and others were ridiculous. You each exchanged numbers, sending over the pictures that were taken on each of your phones. When the pictures were done and the four of you were just laughing at all of the photos, you looked at each of them. “I had a lot of fun! Thank you for having me.” You said, pulling Nick into a hug.
“Oh, of course! You should come hang out with us sometime, whenever you’re free.” He said as he pulled away. You nodded and accepted the hug from Matt, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes met Chris’ after you pulled away.
He hesitated but shrugged his shoulders and held out his arms. You chuckled and walked towards him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Your heart was racing as you pulled away and smiled at him, hoping he didn’t notice the burning in your cheeks.
“Again, it was so nice to meet you. Text me if you ever want to make plans, okay?” You said, the three of them nodding and waving as you got into your car.
The drive back to your apartment was long, your exhaustion finally hitting you as you checked the dash and saw it was three in the morning. God, you were going to be exhausted at your meetings tomorrow. You finally pulled into the parking garage and got out of your car, locking the door as your phone vibrated in your pocket. It wasn’t until you laid in your bed and plugged in your phone that you checked the notification, your heart pounding as you read the text, a shocked laugh leaving your lips.
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piccolos-bigtoe · 18 days
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Oouugghhh, gueess who finished their homework assiignment…. This guy!!! Smiles big with too many teeth I am normal. I do not regret all the time I spent (I may spend more time to fix a fewwww small details….) I am so ready for the summer oh my balls………. I still have a few projects and papers to wrap up here for classes, I will pull through,,, probably…. It’s been tough ngl I feel like I JUST fell into the swing of things and now it’s ova, but that’s okay I’ll adapt
I swear to god every single one of my classmates better give me a standing ovation and kiss me on my beautiful beautiful lips when I present this in critique. I swear to god………. There better be crying…. Kidding I’m not that full of myself but I’m excited to hear what my graphics prof will say teehee…. I will probably print a physical copy of this (whether or not it will be good quality paper idk).
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Also I got my portrait taken today on a silver wet plate (iirc), suuupperrr old form of photography. An artist traveled to my school and held a gallery + talk yesterday and I enjoyed it very much, I typically don’t go up on Fridays because I don’t have classes but I went with a friend to get out portraits taken and then watched the washout process of the plates!! Photography is crazy I don’t understand it. The only thing I’m kind of like dissapointed by is I’m typically not bothered by my skin or acne, but this type of photograph catches stuff SUPER WELL, like it’s kind of crazy, my friend doesn’t really have prominent freckles but on the photo they look way darker than usual. Same thing happened with my dry skin and acne, I don’t mind it too bad, but I was caught off guard a little bit to be honest lol. (Picture below w/my face cut off obviously…. I just wanted to show off my dress because it’s my prized Gunne Sax dress and like the only dress I will actually wear). Me and my two friends were the only ones who dressed up?? No one else did, which was kind of surprising, because this type of photo is rare to get just cause no one really takes them anymore or gets the equipment for it. Okay I’m done rambling tbh I am just procrastinating sleeping,, augh whatever goodnight…. I always post before I sleep…
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minhosimthings · 5 months
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Impatient details || 18+
Synopsis: You just couldn't wait as Hyunjin kept you waiting to finish his portrait of his most favourite muse.
Pairings: Hyunjin × fem!reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, Fingering, masturbation, degradation, swearing, Hyunjin calls reader 'darling' and 'my muse', unprotected sex (don't do it absolutely not), Hyunnie cums inside of reader, overstimulation, dacryphillia, art studio sex let's gaur, it's a bit fluffy at the end
A/N: y'all I can't do this I'm SAUR HORNY RIGHT NOW DAMN THIS PERIOD. I really needed Hyunnie cause man is literally looking like a Greek God in that silver hair (although he has dark hair in this drabble). So this concludes my very first Hyunjin smut! Yay to my dumb brain for working.
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Muses are such pretty little things aren't they? Oh to be a muse. To be dancing under the bloodlust stars with a person who considers you their entire universe. To be staying still and laughing in courtish conversation as he imprinted your figure against yet another canvas, in the same yet different shades of captivating colours.
"Hyunjin-" you dropped your arm from your waist, "-my arm fell asleep again." Always the artist, never the muse, changed when you met Hyunjin. Now, you were forever gracefully stuck as the starry eyes muse, remembered in reds and blues. "Hyunjin how much longer?" You whined to Hyunjin, who whisked his eyes away from the canvas in a whip. He lowered his paintbrush and put his palette on his table, brushing his long, dark hair out of his eyes. Standing up with a slight wince (probably from sitting for that long), he strode over to you, lifting your chin up with his finger. You could see the sweat beads glisten on his forehead, and his fingers all covered with paint. A splash of paint decorated his neck, from where veins were slightly popping out.
“Always so needy for me, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?” He leaned forward to your lips, with barely any space between them. You could feel his breath hit your lips as you leaned forward to kiss them. To your disappointment, he leant back.
“Mm, always so impatient for me, ” Hyunjin smirked into an impatient, rough kiss, a surprise to you, after he had previously leaned away. "Mm Hyunnie-" you moaned into the kiss, Hyunjin's hands resting on your thigh, "Want you." Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, caressing your cheek with his right hand.
"Not so fast my muse." He smirked like the devil in a dance, "you distracted me from almost finishing the painting, so now you're gonna pay for it."
He leaned back against his chair, leaving you dumbfounded on the couch. "Now-" he picked up his paintbrush, "-I am going to need something to motivate me to detail this painting, so why don't you touch yourself for me darling?"
"And don't you dare take that pretty dress off." He mused, biting his bottom lip in concentration "That's for me to do later."
You slip your fingers into your cunt, feeling disappointment at them not being Hyunjin's cock. As you start to hump your hand, you could see Hyunjin tighten his grip on his paintbrush, his face ever so scrunched up. He hasn’t fucked you yet, but this is good. You could see that hyunjin has been subtly grinding his long, pretty (and hard) cock against the easel for a good time now. “yeah, ‘m wet for you hyune~” you croon, wanting to cum so bad.
"Just a little more, my muse. Need to get the details right don't I? Need to make sure this pretty body gets what it deserves?"
You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said.You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more. You jolted your hips ever so slightly as you could feel warm liquid coming between your legs.
"Jinnie-" you moaned, eyes still focused on his fingers moving delicately across the canvas, "-want to cum please." Hyunjin smirked behind his canvas and turned his eyes away for a split second. “You want to cum?” he grinned devilishly, wiping sweat off of his forehead. “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?” Hyunjin slowly dabbed at a spot on the canvas as your fingers stopped moving around your clit. "Please Hyunjin~" you moaned, feeling more impatient than ever.
"Aww baby." Hyunjin cooed, getting up again and striding over to you, “Tell me how you want me.” “Want your fingers in me.” You whined, watching him get on top of you. "Aww my fingers? How many darling?"
When you didn’t respond, he tilted his head at you, quickly thinking of a way to get you to answer him. His long, messy hair fell in front of his dark brown eyes, waiting for you to beg him. He always enjoyed the sensation of you being on your knees, absolutely going dumb for his cock He slid his fingers into you and his eyes flickered down to your pussy, clenching tightly around them.
He grunted deeply and twisted his other hand on his cock teasingly. His eyes were glued on you starting with your half-lidded eyes and your parted lips, trying to catch a breath. He trailed his eyes down to your chest which rose and fell with each panting breath you took. He traced the curves of your body with greedy eyes, your smooth skin covered with a thin layer of sweat.
You slip your hands into his hair again, pulling him back down to continue the passionate kiss, holding onto him desperately. Youf tingled between your legs when his cock brushed through your folds and bumped against your clit, reigniting the flames of your desire. The heat of him turned you on, as if he’d drugged you with just a kiss, with just a touch of his glass skin on yours. He pressed another kiss to your jaw, ghosting your skin with his soft lips. He gave you a messy kiss, leaned his weight on his arm by your head to drag his rough hand down your body. He took your breath away again, pulled away just far enough so he could follow the path of his hand with his eyes.
"I think you need to be fucked properly, don't you my muse?" He stroked his cock, "Do you need to be fucked hmm?" "Please Jinnie-" you whined, missing the feeling of his fingers inside of you, "-need you against me, please." Your begging words ignited Hyunjin's mind, his eyes filled with fiery desire.
"Hyun- Hyunjin fuck!" Hyunjin slips into your cunt so easily. He kneads your breasts just right, pinching and caressing where you like, and his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck. You moan his name, and you feel his cock beneath you coming gradually to life. You grind your bare cunt on his nourishing cock, and his hand grasps your hair to pull your head. “Behave,” he warns with a chuckle, “Fucking eager, aren't we?” You could feel tears come out, decorating your face along with the sweat. Hyunjin's cock twitched as he saw your eyes all glossy and your face scrunched up, trying not to sob out of the pleasure he was giving you.
“Fuck you’re so—” He groaned, his hips shifting as he sat still for a second and he soaked in the way your lips parted and your eyes rolled back with pleasure. “—Fucking tight. You’re already squeezing the fuck outta my cock.” One thrust, then two, Hyunjin goes deeper into you, your moans giving him Heaven to his ears.
"Hyun- wait - I-I can't-" "yes you can darling." Hyunjin's eyes darkened over you, his hands still on your hair, as yours reciprocated. “Hyun,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut, the overstimulation making tears slip from your eyes and your legs shake. You felt a shiver run down your spine when you felt his lips on your spine, his tongue running over your skin. He stopped at your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses before he pressed his lips against your ear.
“You’re my good girl right? You’d do anything I tell you to?” He coaxed, his voice deep and smooth, enough to make you want to come right then and there, again. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “Yeah you fucking would. So cum for me, now.” He demanded, his hand slipping down your body to run your sensitive clit and the overstimulation was enough to send you over the edge.
“Fuck, fuck that’s it,” He moaned, his hand squeezing your neck tight enough to bruise, but not enough cut off your air entirely. He turned your head and kissed you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth as he sunk into you one more time before he spilled inside you.
"Whew!" Hyunjin panted as he collapsed next to you. "You know what, this actually is a weird couch. How is it supporting both of us?" You giggled, snuggling up to Hyunjin's warm chest. "Well thank you to Etsy for letting me but it for cheap. It's my most favourite place to draw my muse." You smiled into his chest, as he wrapped his arms around you, the smell of paint hanging around. "By the way," you spoke first after a long silence, "Did you get the details finished?" Hyunjin smirked at you, and buried himself into your neck. "I finsihed that shit a long time before you touched yourself all pretty for me darling." He whispered into your ear as you slapped his chest playfully, getting up to see how he had made a masterpiece of his muse.
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onlyhuis · 1 month
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late night talking
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member — minghao x f reader genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ? word count — 2.1k synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am. warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much
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you're ugly when you're drunk.
“hao?”
your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.
he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.
he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.
“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.
“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words. 
you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.
he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.
“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.
distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not. 
he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times. 
“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.
“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now. 
you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.
you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being. 
you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.
you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.
if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it. 
of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself. 
of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.
the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.
you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.
but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.
“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”
your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.
“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him. 
“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.
“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.
he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”
“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”
“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”
“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.
“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”
“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”
he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”
“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”
“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.
you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.
“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.
he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.
“why are you like this to me?”
but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”
you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”
for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”
“i don't deserve it.”
he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”
“you don't deserve me.”
he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”
“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”
he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”
you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply. 
“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.
your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.
he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest. 
every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.
he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.
you're cute when you're drunk.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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ashanimus · 1 year
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On Hunter's Fighting Style and Eclipse Lake
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So: Hunter and fighting. Thank you @carpisuns for enabling me.
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What he does is he sets up a guard position, and immediately tries to move to an enemy’s blind spot. He would have learned that to compensate around a casting opponent before he had magic--his only hope without a magical staff would be “defend defend defend” and get close enough to break their guard. The goal is a decisive blow to the head or neck to end combat. The priority is staying up because if he’s pinned or disarmed, he’s screwed.
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 The ability to teleport means that he starts in a strong defensive position and basically gets a sneak attack, rinse/repeat/adapt. Generally speaking he has to end fights as fast as possible, and given that he trained without magic his whole strategy is built around DEFEND first, decisive strike, DEFLECT magical force (a stick can't hope to counter it without magic). We also see a little bit of this implied training with his parkour abilities. Without the ability to fly, or the ability to summon plants to carry him to his destination, he would've had to learn all of this physically. Let's dig into some of the details of how this separates Hunter from most of his opponents. Let's talk about FIGHTING!
Most witches take their magic purely for granted. Because of this, it is likely uncommon for people to turn their own bodies into extremely efficient machines like how martial artists or athletes are required to. In their own way, these skills are generally probably pretty impressive to the average witch outside of combat — and within it they're surprising at least for the first few seconds. And in combat, seconds are really what matter. Most actual fights are over in less than 10. And one of the things that separates a trained fighter from a casual brawler or the average person defending themselves is the conditioning it takes to actually respond in time. 
Most people don't respond to fight stimuli by fighting. Most people go into freeze or flight. When it comes to serious fight training, one of the first things that happens is called conditioning. For sports that means getting the body into a particular kind of well, condition — but for combat the conditioning is also mental. If you've seen stereotypes of things like Army boot camp where the drill sergeant is yelling at people and slinging abuse constantly, that's actually part of it. I am reliably told they try not to do this as much anymore. But if you're doing something like Krav Maga which is more or less brutal streetfighting but formalized in a dojo environment that is absolutely part of the training (or at least, it was part of mine!).
Specifically, when you're learning the throw punch or doing a series of them, what they will have us do is scream and swear at our opponents (and they will sometimes scream and swear at us during spars or drills) in order to condition our minds as well as our bodies for the ugliness of an actual violent confrontation. Yelling, intimidation, insults, swears those are all part of the human "puff up and look big" thing. The other thing about conditioning in this way is the instructor teaching someone how to be hit and actually hit back. As I said before, most people tend to sink into freeze or flight. The average person who has not been trained needs to be hit an average of six times before they're able to summon up the nerve to strike back. By then, the confrontation is almost always over.
The reason I outline all of this is because it highlights the conditioning gulf between Hunter and the others, as well as trying to explain how he’d be approaching most enemies and WHY. Speed and dexterity is obviously critical, but the approach matters immensely as well.
This is especially true when you have a combatant like Hunter who is starting from a punishing disadvantage against the vast majority of his casting opponents. Without magic, the only weapon he has is his body. When you train on a weapon, that weapon becomes an extension of your body. As such, a critical part of this kind of training is gaining an awareness of the body in order to hone in mind-to-muscle control. Martial artists, dancers, etc have a scary amount of precise control in this way, not that much different than an excellent musician who understands their hands and the intimate ins and outs of their instrument. Developing awareness, control and practice is what creates reliable muscle memory. This more than anything is Hunter’s (and any martial artists tbh) superpower.
Witch's magic is shown to be driven by emotions, thoughts and feelings.
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This gives them the benefit of reflexes helping them out in the face of sudden danger, but nobody is invulnerable to the sudden appearance of somebody inside their personal bubble hitting them in the temple with a really big stick. If Hunter is on target and playing for keeps the confrontations is over, witches duel: won. Even without magic. 
Once Hunter has access to magic, his muscle memory is the same, with added oomph and a battle style combat-ready witches would be baffled by. Brawlers would be exceedingly rare on the BI except for niche sports and probably those highly unusual witches and demons who practice a form of magical martial arts. One or more of these unusual individuals would have helped train him (someone had to and Belos seems like he’d move like a broken ikea chair on his best day when he’s not a bone-rotted goop monster). Likely more. Hunter was obviously not allowed to get close to any teachers (I would expect that they were under strict orders to stay distant or otherwise motivated). 
So most of this is context to kind of the depth I saw and how Hunter's fighting movements are animated, but now let me go into how his actual personality and emotional conflicts affect his ability to fight.
Over the course of the show, we can see a pretty direct correlation of his emotional state and priorities to his efficacy and fight. Basically, when his goal is directly aligned with how he feels about it, he’s very good. But when those things have conflict, his effectiveness goes down. When we first meet him as the GG, he is very intimidating and using heavy amounts of magic from the staff Belos gave him. He rolls easily through his first encounter with Luz, etc etc. And even though neither Eda or Luz are capable of putting up too much of a fight, he's goofing around for the entirety of that encounter, you can hear the smile even while he's dodging — and it's one of easy confidence. He can trust his body to do most of that pretty much automatically which frees him up to pontificate.
Against Kikimora he was effective because despite the fact he was self-sabotaging his mission, it was within his moral alignment. He was defending himself, but Luz had moved him, and he protected her. Protecting, generally speaking, his Hunter’s preference and his entire fighting style is based mostly on defensive forms. And being by nature a gentle person, defense feels better — especially when he knew Luz was doing the right thing in protecting the Palismen. It was one of the instances that we see where his intelligence was able to overcome his brainwashing long enough to act on it, and the Avenue was Luz's respect and kindness. That being said, fighting Kikimora was more of a struggle or at the very least a more even contest. Even debilitated by the sleeping nettles, Kikimora was not a pushover and he did end up letting his guard down pretty significantly and that she did get the first hit on him, distracted as he was by his emotional moment with Luz. The giving of the name was an explicit show of vulnerability that was immediately exploited by an opponent who if she had aimed slightly to the left would've caved his skull in.
Now, Eclipse Lake is a little more interesting. There were a ton of factors that led to him fighting to a standstill with Amity. I wouldn't really call it a loss either, but I'll get into that in just a second.
Hunter is at this point fueled by anxiety. He started the entire endeavor by deliberately disobeying a direct order from the mouth of the Emperor to try and make up for a recent failure that Belos has let Hunter believe is affecting his favor. Already that's an unbelievably emotional place with incredibly high stakes. At this point, we're well aware of the fact that Belos treats Hunter brutally. The best case scenario for returning empty-handed after disobeying a direct order is a beating that would probably leave him with more scars than he started, but what Hunter actually fears is being replaced. While at this stage he doesn't regard his life as something that necessarily belongs to him, but the successful outcome of this might as well be life-and-death. 
Deliberately disobeying the Emperor does actually have a material impact on how Hunter arrives at the Knee. Because this is a stealth mission, he wasn’t able to bring his mechanical staff--the thing that would give him away to Kikimora. Flapjack had not fully become his palisman yet. Which means that Hunter hiked up that mountain after Kikimora and her party, navigating waist deep snow knowing that if he was caught she would kill him. He also knows that she is currently surrounded by her partisans, and it is super unlikely that any of them would stick up for him in a way that would put them at odds with her. With no support, no ability to take a break and probably no rations he was probably pretty hungry, tired and dehydrated by the time Eda and Amity had made it up there. And they had the benefit of being able to fly. That's one thing I don't see people talking about enough when it comes to considering the relative strength of Amity and Hunter. The little rag-eared bastard had already had a very very long and physically arduous and miserable day, maybe even more than one!.
He also bit off more than he could reasonably chew with those disadvantages in mind. He only has to make one mistake and he’s toast. He didn’t account for Flapjack dragging him to Eda and Amity’s feet. As far as he knew, they could have really hurt him, or left him--having no guarantee or even expectation of Flapjack’s assistance. But none of this changes the fact that Hunter spends the next couple of hours tied up. Amity wasn't gentle (why would she be?). We see him rubbing his wrists and stretching his shoulders out once he is free.
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Cartoons often don't make anything of this gesture, but the truth of it is this: if you been bound for any length of time, especially in the position that Hunter was, what it does is it yanks on your shoulders, your chest, it hurts the hell out of your elbows and you lose feeling in your hands. The minute you’re released, all the blood goes back into those areas and it hurts like hell. IT REALLY HURTS. And you're stiff.
Which finally brings us back to the actual confrontation between Amity and Hunter. Hunter has experienced incredible emotional highs and lows over the course of this journey. There were probably at least three or four times where he was almost killed. He is tired as hell, frozen stiff, probably in pain, almost certainly hasn't eaten or had anything to drink for a very inappropriate amount of time and he has no weapon. He's also on the brink of despair and crackup. And his mission? At this point, he’s staring down the barrel of guaranteed failure. When Amity is talking to him and trying to comfort him, he is so up a creek that for a moment he actually is hearing what she has to say. Given the depth of his devotion to Belos at this point  that is saying a lot about how he feels about his prospects at the moment. 
So when he sees the key, he attacks her out of desperation. Pure emotion. He has to at least try. There is no scenario where an unarmed combatant can wrestle the armed abomination prodigy with auxiliary support. Then Flapjack joins the fight, and that changes everything. You can see it in how his expression changes once he takes what's offered: magical aid. Suddenly he has a fighting chance. A fighting chance. 
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However, he is now using a weapon he's never used before — and I think that has a huge impact on how that fight went. Palismen are shown to respond to their wielder's thoughts. Later, in ASIAS, we can even see Flapjack responding to Hunter's mind when he's doing all the staff tricks to impress the students. This leads me to believe that wielding a Palisman staff is less like swinging an inert stick and more like moving a limb. And when your entire fighting style depends on knowing exactly where your own center of mass is at absolutely all times, that would change Hunter's balance, and throw his timing and physicality off.
All things considered, given the unbelievable disadvantage that Hunter started with, I kind of wish the fandom gave him more credit. With his emotions in absolute tatters in addition to being a physical disaster and using a new weapon, he is absolutely at his worst here! Amity is fighting from a position of knowing she has backup coming in addition to the backup she already has in King. Even then, she's fighting to get away from him. And Hunter, in addition to using a new tool and all of the aforementioned problems is going full out on the attack-- which is very contrary to how he prefers to fight. When you go this feral into a combat, the emotional place itself is a disadvantage.
And even after all that? Amity didn't beat him. They fought to a standstill.
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She has a blade to his throat, he had Flapjack on her hand. With Flapjack in his possession, if for any reason she tried to open his throat he would still have the option of flash stepping away. She might have cut his neck enough to bleed, but not enough to kill him instantly. In holding the way she did, she missed her chance at a fatal opening (and she's never killed anyone before. Interpretation is out for Hunter, I generally don't headcannon him as ever having killed directly with his own hands although I do think he's done some real damage).
He says to her, "Listen. You're strong, and I'm tired. If this continues, you'll probably escape. But here's the thing: we know where to find you--and your human."
The first part of that statement has way less to do with Amity's training or skill as an equal to Hunter's (she clearly has a little, but if you're as good as Hunter is at his age, you would've started at around three years old and that probably was not the case for Amity), and more a statement of the fact that Hunter is actually physically exhausted and there is the slight possibility that Amity might be able to outlast him in terms of endurance. But what I think is a lot more pertinent is the reality that Hunter has an incredibly small window of time to achieve victory before Eda the HARPY OWL LADY comes flying through that tunnel to beat his already exhausted ass.
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He also says: "If this CONTINUES". And he even says probably. He's incredibly fucking tough at least in terms of what he's capable of enduring before he falls down and can't get up.
If Eda did come through to help Amity, the best case scenario for Hunter at that point is they leave him senseless or in too rough of a shape to escape from Kikimora. Kikimora openly despises him, is extremely petty/cruel, and is surrounded by her own partisans (who have demonstrable willingness to murder teenagers!). She screeched about how excited she was about exacting revenge (and unbeknownst to Hunter she absolutely knows how disposable he is in the grand scheme of things!).
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She’s a lot more interested in Hunter’s blood than Titan’s blood at the moment. Hunter would die BADLY and slowly at her little claws if she got him. 
So he tries a last-ditch measure by leveling a threat Amity that he couldn’t hope to carry out even if he wanted to. It's ironic that the only reason that they were both able to achieve a partial victory here is because Hunter was able to effectively empathize with her enough to see his own vulnerability in her and squeeze it.
To all that stuff about how his emotions affect his ability to battle, if we look at what happened on the day of unity, at that stage he was still unable to confront his abuser and would-be murderer. He did not strike Belos once, and spent the whole time playing defense on behalf of his friends, taking up a defensive position and otherwise moving them out of harm's way. He's in the process of actively dying and his right (dominant) arm is paralyzed, so his form is pretty crap but this speaks to his iron will to stay breathing for as long as he can. And he's lasted a lot longer than the most affected adults. The lack of a bile sac probably comes into it a bit...but it's not the only factor here.
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So yeah! I hope that this provides a little bit more nuance to the conversation! And again, thank you to the animators and storyboarders for taking such time and care for portraying Hunter’s fighting with respect to his personality and arc. 
For anyone interested in my meta and analysis, please check out the "ash's owl house meta" tag on this blog and/or follow @idlescree for my video essays! We have more in the works coming soon :)
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
Text
Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | Teaser
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✒ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slow-burn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love?
word count: tbd, 835 for this teaser
warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained Yoon, mentions of smoking, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, mentions of therapy, mentions of dating scandal, eventual sexual content, and more specific warnings per chapter.
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: Okay this has taken over six months to release but it's finally beginning and I am super excited to share! 🫣 I am low-key terrible at choosing a proper teaser so hoepfull this works haha. ANYWAY, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist
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“Did you get the files I sent to you?”
The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.
Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.
You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.
"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”
You recall PD Bang’s voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.
The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.
Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.
You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.
“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”
Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”
“On the 16th floor right?”
“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”
Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.
"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.
“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”
Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.
You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before. Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.
"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."
Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.
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a/n: Chapter one will be released soon 🙃 Thanks for reading the teaser!
Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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jinkookspencil · 1 year
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superstar | jjk
you, the quiet, lonely achiever, get paired up with the superstar new student at your university for a group project... and he needs all the help he can get
description/tw/tags: ~7.1k words / jungkook x chubby (f) reader / one-shot / fluff with a tiny dash of angst / strangers to friends to lovers / university AU / this is a request, submitted by the lovely @cat123jkbunny / i hope you (all) like it! / fatphobia (details: y/n is insecure and quiet and she gets bullied for her body and is made fun of for it, with someone insinuating she isn't good enough because of her body. There is also a scene where she feels like she is ashamed to eat in a crowded place but jk helps her out of that) / clean except for kissing and swearing / this is for my fellow curvy/chubby/plus girlies, you are all beautiful and i am always here for you and i hope you like this / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated! note: i have 2 half-written drabbles (AND even some more ideas) that emerged from this fic request, with the same couple! If you guys like this and want to see those - let me know!
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Please not Jeon Jungkook. Please God, not Jeon Jungkook. Anyone…. anyone but…
“….Jeon Jungkook.”
Damn it.
His name echoed throughout the gigantic lecture hall and in your skull. Out of every student in your class, did it really have to be him? The one paired assignment you had in your course had to be with Jeon Jungkook. As your professor called out the pairs… there seemed to be no one left but the two of you and the final pair, who were always together, his best friends Taehyung and Jimin. You’d gladly work with either of them instead, or anyone really….
There was nothing wrong with Jeon Jungkook… nothing at all. That was what was so bewildering about your university's superstar. Jeon Jungkook was the school's…. everything. Enigmatically the star athlete, a featured artist, a Dean’s List candidate, and even a band member on the weekends, apparently.  He was the student that transferred to your prestigious university - absolutely unheard of - simply because the faculty were that impressed by him. With a reputation like that, it wasn’t long before everyone knew his name and face and was captivated by him immediately. Even the professors took a liking to him straight away - you’d grown tired of hearing them mention his name during office hours while they seemed to be getting tired of you. Every girl and guy on campus fawned over him - within good reason, you had to admit, considering his reputation and easy-on-the-eyes appearance… though you'd never stare his way for too long. The point remained:
If you went unseen, Jeon Jungkook was seen.
Being paired with him meant that whether you liked it or not, you would be in the spotlight in some way. No matter what - you’d have to talk to him, for God’s sake. You think to bolt out of the hall, find his email address, and just send him a breakdown of your responsibilities for the assignment or even an offer to do all the work yourself. You’d hate to, but if it meant interacting with Jeon Jungkook as little as possible and remaining unseen, you’d do it - what’s a few all-nighters and extra work when faced with the humiliation of talking to the school’s most popular person?
“Y/N?”
Shit.
People hardly called you by your name at university - your one friend had already graduated, so just being called would’ve startled you enough… let alone having heard it from such a hushed, singsong voice. Turning around, you see the enigmatic man standing right above you. Everything made sense in an instant. The love, seeing his kind smile. The admiration, seeing his muscles. The crushes and rumored weekly love letters he received, seeing… him.
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jungkook,” he says, gesturing towards himself as if you’d never seen him or heard of him. “I don’t know if you know me, I sit all the way in the back? With Taehyung and Jimin?”
“Hi, I know who you are, Jungkook,” you mumble.
“Oh, cool,” he says, still smiling. “I guess we’re together! For the assignment, I mean...”
“Yeah, I guess so. You don’t really have to worry about a thing, though. I can just send you an email later breaking down what each of us should do, or I can just do it all by myself, and we’ll-”
“Oh. No,” he says, quietly interrupting you. “I… can’t have that. I don’t think that’ll work.”
You felt whatever polite expression was on your face fade at that moment… What did he mean by ‘no’?
“I want to actually work on this… I want to work on it together… please.”
You had no idea what to think at that moment, only replaying his quiet, hushed ‘please’ over and over again as he stood beside you, fiddling with his earrings.
“Jungkook, I can take care of it. You really don’t have to…,” you start, but he interrupts you again, shaking his head and sitting down beside you in the now almost empty classroom.
“No, Y/N. I..,” he starts in a hushed tone. “I’m really falling behind in this class and we have the exam coming up…. It’s not just that, it all seems so interesting it’s just that my stupid brain can’t comprehend much of it.”
Jeon Jungkook? Falling behind? Admitting to an unknown fact? Call himself ‘stupid’? Sitting in front of you, he’d finally been looking at you, his wide eyes lowered since the moment he’d approached. It was eerie too see, a look behind the curtain into the life of your community’s local celebrity when you’d been nothing but just another spectator.
“Look, I always want to do things on my own too, so I get where you're coming from...” he continues, “…and that must mean you can try to understand how desperate I am here. It’s hard to ask for help, but… I need it. I’m not lazy, I promise. I need actual… help... please.”
So that’s why.
The shock faded away in an instant. If there was one thing you might've been known for at university, it would definitely have been your grades. Strangers came and went, looking for “the fat girl at the top of the class," as a couple of students kindly called you, never bothering to ask your name. They never got consideration back or even a glance in their direction, let alone your work when they dared to ask to copy it…. but… Jeon Jungkook asked for help. Not to copy the homework, get basic instructions, or an "in" with certain professors. But help. And for the chance to work on it together.
A refusal rested at the tip of your tongue, even then, but that quiet ‘please’ was still on a loop in your mind…
How could you say no?
“Okay..”
“Yes! Good! Great, okay,” Jungkook says enthusiastically. Did he always have a wife, bunny-toothed smile? It was adorable. “Can we meet at the library tomorrow?”
“…Sure, Jungkook.”
“Perfect. Get ready, Y/N. I have a lot of questions. Oh, wait, first of all - what was that song you were humming on your way out of class yesterday?”
┅ ┅ ┅ ┅
You suspected it would be the one study session to get Jungkook up to speed and lay out the work for the assignment. But the one session turned into two, which turned into three, and before you knew it, you and Jungkook would be meeting at the library every single day.
It was… overwhelming to say the least. The workload, definitely, as well as the added time spent teaching him but on top of that… the stares and whispers nearly set you off when other students, even his own friends, Taehyung and Jimin, would murmur ineligible words when they'd spot you together in the library. It didn't slip past you that it definitely must’ve been a weird sight, the Jeon Jungkook sitting next to a nobody like you...  but when you were actually with him, the world around you faded away. All that mattered was the material you knew by heart and the boy who needed to learn it. And boy, did he need to.
After an hour of explaining the material to him one day, he’d continued to stare at you blankly. “Jungkook…. Are you even listening to me?” you resigned multiple times, realizing he had a tendency to space out at random points throughout the day. It was enough to almost tempt you to ghost him and just present him with a finished assignment or a detailed lesson plan.... but when he snapped out of it, he always hit you with an adorable, child-like pout and that irresistible plea: “Can you explain it to me again, please?”
So, you resisted the urge you felt before and after study sessions, to neglect him and stop the meetings altogether. In truth, you could’ve. Jungkook would do well enough to pass... but you couldn't accept him achieving the bare minimum. "I'm trying to steal your crown," he joked on day two, proving one of the many things you and everyone else had heard about Jeon Jungkook.
Finding out something new about Jungkook was to turn the page on the most fascinating book you'd ever read with limitless pages, for it seemed as though he and his talents could be described as such. It - he - was awe-inspiring, new, and enticing in the best of ways. And at times, it felt like it was only yours to hold, for you were the person discovering aspects to him, hardly believing it been you realizing it yourself, up close and personal.
He was definitely a competitive one, that, everyone knew - but you’d realized it went far beyond sports - aiming to rival you and fellow Dean's List candidate Kim Namjoon for the valedictorian spot despite admitting he'd still be behind if he tried his hardest, just thankful to have some worthy competitors. It proved that it was real ambition that Jungkook had in him. In contrast to the rumors that he never really cared about his studies, you saw just how clever and curious he'd been, in addition to his dedication in showing up every day, even when he didn't need to. He loved everything he did and never limited himself, whereas you’d been studying as much as you could in your field only to further advance in your comfort zone of academia. When you'd revealed this to him, he, ever the competitive one, expressed his jealousy at the stability ahead of you, helping ease the countless worries you'd had about your own future.
And, you’d discovered the fact that he’s, surprisingly for an artist and musician, more in his element when it came to logic, numbers, and science - with spreadsheets, calculations, and graphs just to keep track of your progress on the assignment, though he skewed the numbers to work on the assignment further. It frustrated him most as he struggles with words, essays, and theoretical concepts, which never made sense to you, considering he felt so much and made you feel so much in return. It was never stress or anger, even on the hardest of days - he had a surprisingly relaxed attitude for such an accomplished athlete. Rather, he expressed patience and envy when you'd been teaching him, and what got you most - his awe at the subject matter… even though he zoned out often. His eyes lit up whenever he started to understand something… you could swear you almost saw stars in his pupils whenever something evidently clicked inside his brain. And every time it did, every time you felt that damned butterfly in your stomach whenever he smiled… only to leave the study session to see daggers in your direction… you had to remind yourself - you were just here to help him.
He was Jeon Jungkook, for crying out loud. You were just another person who started to like him, as everyone does.
You had to remind yourself that his eyes were ordinary, brown eyes - no matter how big and starry they'd looked on certain nights. That though you’d gotten used to the way his soapy scent blended with that of the books around you, the familiarity of the books’ sweetness on its own was just as lovely. That people were looking. That he asked to study, not to get to know you. And that he had his pick of anyone he wanted in the entire university and beyond... there's no reason he'd want to spend time with you for longer than he had to and for more than you had been spending already. Your mental reminders only worked that hard when you had work to do.
For the first time in your life, you felt like a fool. For laughing at his every joke. For continuing to study with him and not putting an end to it the first time your heart fluttered. For not stopping the crush that you had on Jeon Jungkook. Though you felt like one, you never acted like a fool in front of him - at least, you didn’t think so, holding onto that paper-thin hope to at least ground you in some way. It was just as easy to remember that the sheer impossibility of anything happening, plus the actual studying, were at the forefront. It was hard to kill the butterflies, though. They returned every day, whenever you’d bounce off one another in explanation and conversation, drifting off-topic and sometimes getting personal, when he joked around and tried to convince you that university isn’t actually the end of the world… or even when you simply sat working together in comfortable silence.
That was exactly how it was on a regular Thursday afternoon. Tucked away in your corner of the library, you and Jungkook worked away peacefully when a student you’d never seen walked up to Jungkook. A regular occurrence, seeing as he was so popular.
“Hey, Kookie,” you hear, your eyes still fixated on your screen.
“Hey, Jia,” he replies. You can’t tell if he looked up at her or not. Did he? What did his eyes say? Fuck, why should you care?
“Hey, what… what are you doing?” she says with a giggle. If your peripheral sight was to be trusted, she placed her hand on his shoulder. You shouldn’t care, but resist a smile when he shoves it away. “You’re here every day, Jungkookie. Aren’t you bored? Like… what are you doing?”
“I’m working,” he replies.
“What about her?”
Glancing at her direction, you could see it on her - Jia's - face that she definitely didn’t know your name, and you knew the stares you got well enough to know the look on her face was one of confusion or, dare you say it, disgust. Jungkook's eyes flickered down from you, before returning to his notes.
“Y/N and I have that assignment together,” he replies, “the final project for Mr. P’s class before the exam.”
“Ohhhhhh,” she says, nodding in realization. “Okay, that makes sense then,” she giggles. “See you, Kookie. Call me if you want to have some fun tonight.”
To you, it was clear as day what she meant. That makes sense. In a way, she was right. It was the only possible way Jungkook would be sitting here, with you, every single day. He never would have - wouldn’t have even known you existed - if he hadn’t been paired with you. He made sense with girls like Jia - someone he’d have fun with rather than study with and beautiful in every way society wanted her to be, starting with her model-like body to compliment his built one. That made sense, you reminded yourself.
It must’ve been a good minute since you’d done anything on your computer, so focused on making sure the pesky insects in your stomach were dead, that you barely heard your name being called repeatedly until Jungkook waved his hand in front of your screen.
“HELLO?!”
“What?” you jolt, seeing his crouched head peeking to look at you.
“I was asking if you could throw this. The trash can is next to you.”
Jungkook hands you a piece of paper, unfolded, before sitting down and staring back at his screen, this time with his headphones on. You move to throw the paper out in a hurry, almost missing what was scribbled on it.
Jia’s name and phone number.
┅ ┅ ┅ ┅
Before you knew it, the deadline for the assignment arrived, and you and Jungkook were done. After a particularly long night at the library finalizing the paper, you uploaded the document and he hit the daunting blue button titled ‘submit’.
“YES!” Jungkook cheers from behind you, having looked over your shoulder to submit the paper together. With his head right beside yours with his arm planted on the desk in front of you, the veins you’d never noticed before on full display. Just when you realized it had been too close not to get panicked, he forces your chair to spin and face him, sticking his hand out for a high-five. “We did it!”
“We did,” you sigh, meeting his hand, pushing away the feeling of it in your mind.
“Why on Earth do you look sad?” Jungkook asks. “We should be celebrating! Let’s go get fried chicken!”
“Just thinking of the exam coming up and my other paper,” you half-lie.
How could you tell him you’re already mourning the time you spent together? He shouldn’t catch on, though…
“But I guess you’re right. It is a good thing that we’re done with it.” Really, it was. The delusional thoughts would cease. Might as well say goodbye. “It’s been fun… getting to do this and getting to know you, Jungkook.”
You reach out your hand for a high-five, as he had, but instead of going to meet it, he takes two steps back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You think you’re getting rid of me that easily?” he questions, cocking his brow.
“What?!”
“You said it yourself. We have the exam coming up.”
“Jungkook, you should be fine. You aced that assignment.”
“No, absolutely not.  I want… I need you. Your presence motivates me, and when I’m with you, I feel at ease…. with the material. It’s less scary.” It’s hard to ignore how wide Jungkook’s pupils had gotten as he fidgeted with his lip ring.
“Jungkook, Mr. P's exams are beasts unearthed from the very depths of hell. If I’m being completely honest, I can’t spend all my time teaching you," you say, speaking the truth.
“I’m not even asking for that. Just let me be near or around you. I’ll be quiet and ask minimal questions in the case of an emergency.”
Staring up at him, he had the same pleading and innocent expression on his face when he first approached you after you’d been assigned together. The time you spent together only confirmed that when he bit his lower lip and simultaneously arched his brows inwards and upwards… he was serious and pleading.
“I… might kick you out some days, Jungkook. When I need to focus extra hard.”
“Kick me out, then. Say the word, and I’m gone. And on the flip side, say the word, and I’m there - with anything you need. Like…. iced coffee! I know your order by now. Iced Vanilla Latte with an extra shot of espresso.”
Jungkook retraces his steps, standing right over you. It’s only when his hand reaches out do you realize your arm is upright, your unmet high-five still in the air. His hand meets yours softly, and without a single sound, fingers and palms perfectly aligned. His skin was calloused from his paintbrush and instruments, cushioned against your soft skin, his slender fingers towering over your wide ones… Pulling your hand down, your fingers get caught in his, which slightly curved towards you before your hand slips away.
Taking a deep breath, you notice Jungkook clear his throat. Suddenly, neither of you knew what to do with your hands, but he thinks fast, stuffing them in his pockets before finally looking back at you.
“So, deal?”
“Deal,” you yield, foolishly.
┅ ┅ ┅ ┅
Thank God you were smart as fuck.
Because though Jungkook kept true to his word, it turns out it was extremely hard to focus when your crush was doing one of two things - either quietly sitting beside you in all his glory (with no distractingly helpful responsibility of teaching him) or worse, when he was tending to you. There were the iced coffees, the water intake reminders, the extra highlighters, the space he gave you when he felt you needed it - even checking in with an “I’ll kick myself out for today” on a particularly stressful night before you knew you needed to do it yourself, for some alone time. You rarely wanted it anymore anyways. His questions and interruptions were few, always pleasant, of course, and never took up much of your time. It was worth it, seeing that proud smile of his when he now answered his own questions, just making sure from you that they were actually correct. The butterflies never stopped, especially considering he now sat beside you in the front corner of Mr. P’s lecture hall, abandoning Jimin and Taehyung on the other side of the room... The random, beautiful doodles he adorned your notebook with always made you smile harder whenever you studied - he was there even when he wasn’t.
“I knew you’d still be here,” Jungkook says, walking to your desk in the quiet library. Looking at the clock on your screen, you finally realize the time.
“What can I say?” you sigh. “What are you doing here, Jungkook? Isn't today Jimin's party, or whatever it was?”
“It was, and it might've been the dullest party Jimin ever threw. I know you cruelly rejected my invitation, but honestly... I don't blame you. It was the same old stuff and people and.. here's way more fun," he explained.
"Oh, come on," you reply, rolling your eyes. "Go back to the party, Jungkook. There's no way you think studying is more fun than even the most boring party at Jimin's."
"Hmmm... you're right. I still picked you instead because I missed you." The sentence escapes Jungkook's lips so quickly you didn't have a chance to realize what he'd said before he went on. "I wish you'd come... to give yourself a break. Knowing you'd be here, I decided to come and force you to rest. I also know that you haven’t eaten yet and that we still didn’t celebrate our assignment. We really should celebrate now, anyways.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t check your email?”
You move to frantically get to your laptop before he blocks you. “No, you’re done for the day. Or at least, the hour - you didn't move all day, and I'm worried. Plus, your eyes are too tired. Should I get eye drops?”
“Jungkook... what score did we get?!”
“Only a 95%,” he shrugs, acting cool and uncaring before finally breaking into a wide smile. “We did it!”
A 95% was among the highest scores you’d ever gotten at university - a mark good enough to ensure you'd be the valedictorian instead of Kim Namjoon, who you’d been in competition with ever since freshman year. Not only that, 95% was a fast track that allowed you to possibly get your work published. Shrieking, you jump up from your chair and into Jungkook’s open arms. Realizing your position in the rush of it all, with your head on his shoulder, his tucked into the crook of your neck, and his hands wrapped around your plush waist… your heart only raced faster, which you didn’t think was possible. You quickly unravel your arms from around his back, and it takes a second longer for him to do the same.
You just hugged Jeon Jungkook. Why was he red? Probably ashamed, wondering if anyone saw him hug you.
“I never thought I'd... hear you scream in the library," he laughs, turning to a paper bag he'd placed on the table when he arrived. "I brought that fried chicken to celebrate. Let’s sit a while. You still need a break from all the screens.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t… eat here.”
“Why not?”
“There are some students around. You, too.”
“So? No one will mind the smell of fried chicken. That couple over there is eating it, too.”
"No, it’s…." you sigh, feeling as though you’re finally exposing some sort of unknown truth to Jungkook, despite the fact that he could obviously see you. "It’ll only make people judge me more. Stare at me more. For eating something like this in public. It’s like I…shouldn’t… with everything I’ve got going on. Like… it’s shameful?”
“But there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing at all.” Jungkook looked just as confused as he’d been when he didn’t understand something in the lesson plan, but suddenly, it shifted to his ‘got it’ state. When he finally knew what to do. “Fuck it. Fuck everyone. Sit. Let’s eat. If anyone dares to look at you…. or, God forbid, say anything... You know I'm on the university's wrestling team, right?"
You nod and laugh because everyone knew, but he goes on. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the whole university does, so I'd like to see some punk try anything."
He goes silent, shaking his head as he unloads the bag he brought and encouraging you to eat until he'd already finished half the bucket. Hesitantly, you grab a drumstick before finally taking a bite with your eyes fixated on Jungkook the entire time. You’d have avoided his gaze, even turned away, but with his raised brows and a closed-mouth smile, desperately awaiting your review… you knew you had to give him an answer fast, and you do so after the very first bite, shooting him a thumbs up. It was really good - sweet, sour, and spicy all at once. With your second bite and his proud smile, you recall another rumor you’d heard about Jungkook long ago. That he went on a tour of all the fried chicken spots in the city to find the best one. Asking him about it, you didn’t expect to find out that not only was it true, but it was also a life-long, worldwide mission of his - “Forget all the shit I’m talented at, this is my life’s purpose,” he proclaimed, saying that the chicken he'd brought had been his favorite so far. "And I wouldn't get you anything less than the best I’ve found, darling."
You felt your face flush, knowing Jungkook must've called you that jokingly. Still, the pet name sent your mind into overdrive, more than the studying did, as you fed your delusions for a little while. Darling.
You could've sworn you were actually living in your delusions later that night when he dropped you home for the very first time. The conversation never stopped, even until you were standing by your apartment building. "Still gonna study?" he asked, staring at your door.
"Maybe," you replied, knowing you'd be too delusional to do so, and if you tried, you would only end up staring at the words and cursing Jungkook for being too perfect and making you this way.
"Well, do you want to eat ramyeon now?” he’d said with a giggle. Catching you off guard, you nearly choked on air at the double entendre coming from him, but rolled your eyes and answered with a simple “Yes” instead, only for his smile to fade quickly.
Your fat ass should not be making jokes like that when you knew damn well you wouldn’t have shot. Especially not after dinner.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Jungkook," you hurriedly say, attempting to dash inside, only for your jacket to get caught on the way in. Looking down, you realize it hadn't been the knob that stopped it but rather Jungkook's fingers, clutching onto the fabric before letting it slip away. "Sorry. Goodnight."
┅ ┅ ┅ ┅
The moment kept replaying in your head, buried in your hands on the desk, agonizing over the humiliation as a break from agonizing over the workload. You had time to agonize today, Jungkook wasn’t there yet. If he saw you like that, he’d nudge you to get out of it.
“Hello?”
Jolted by the sudden voice of a woman, you look up to see Jia. “Hi,” you say, too awkwardly even for you. “Can I help you with something? Jungkook’s not here if you’re looking for him.”
“I can see that,” she scoffs. “I came to talk to you.” In all this time, your first run-in with her had been your only semblance of interaction, though you hadn't ever spoken to each other.
“Oh… Why?”
“What’s going on… between the two of you?”
“Me and... Jungkook? He told you, we had that assignment together….”
“That’s done,” she snaps.
“And now I’m just helping out with his studies.”
“Then why did Nani see him drop you home?”
“We’re… friends, Jia,” you mutter. You’d never called Jungkook that before, a friend, but you can’t help but think it’s fitting to do so... It fit, didn’t it? Weren’t you… friends? At the very least? Or...
“We’re classmates,” you quickly add.
“Friends - that's the funniest shit I've heard. His actual friends, Jimin and Taehyung refuse to tell me anything when he left that party. They were probably concerned and unsettled by it all…. I mean, everyone here can see how much you gush over him, you know? It’s embarrassing. I don’t know how he doesn’t see it and steer clear - especially since you should come with a cattle crossing sign, seriously.”
Was it that obvious?
“We all know he's just using you for that piece of meat between your ears until the exam's over. He's not an idiot, you know? Don’t get carried away thinking anyone outside your league would be interested in you.”
An emptiness grew with the uncovering of a deep fear of yours. Of course. Of course, he was still using you, you idiot... It was just the help he needed. Neither of you could have gotten the 95% on your own... He said he needed the help... the mark... She was right. He wasn't an idiot... but wasn't the Jungkook you knew too kind to use someone like that?
It was then that your phone, lying on the desk, lit up with a message, clear as day for the both of you to read.
[from: jungkook] “i’m on my way to you rn. brought kimbap!! hope you like it. made it myself :) ”
“Pft. He knows how to keep a fat girl on his hook. You fucking whale.”
You fucking fool.
“Heyooooooo!” you hear from a short distance in that familiar singsong voice that tugged at your heartstrings. Jungkook turned a corner and finally appeared from between the shelves. “Kimbap! Wait, what the fuck is wrong?”
Shit. You hadn’t realized tears were streaming down your face. As if you could be any more humiliated. Not even able to glance his way, despite him repeating the question over and over again, mere steps away from you, you stuff your things into your bag and rush out.
The last thing you catch is Jia’s scoff.
┅ ┅ ┅ ┅
Suddenly, avoiding Jungkook was easy. That urge you had long ago, the one in line with you, Jungkook, and the ways of the world…. Your two different worlds.
He’d chased you, easily getting to you and stopping you. Repeating his question again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you had let out, staring at the ground. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to.
“Are you kidding? What is it? Tell me…” he says quietly, putting his hands on your shoulders. You shake them off in an instant, walking away, only for him to follow close behind. “What is it? You’re not okay.”
“It’s… stress.”
“Bullshit - I’ve obviously seen you stressed. This isn’t it. I’ve never seen-”
“Jungkook, I’m kicking you out. Keep your word that you’ll stay out,” you snap, finally turning to look at him in the crowded library. If he’d never seen you this way, you’d never seen him that way either. Hurt. You can’t see why. He got what he wanted out of you, plus you’d told him you’d kick him out….
If only it was easy to keep him out. Jungkook had always listened when it came to the material, but it was as if he never knew how to in any other regard. His texts and calls over the weekend went ignored until you finally mustered up the courage to block him. You thought that would be that - Jungkook would go back to his world, and you’d go back to yours - but on your first day back, you find him sitting on the floor at the door to the library at the crack of dawn.
You’d specifically gone that early to avoid Jungkook - who always showed up during the late afternoons or evenings after having just woken up then on his off days. Yet here he was, sitting cross-legged by the glass door you’d walked into together countless times, glancing at the handful of other students with exams and deadlines as they walked in, out, and around him. Even from a distance away, you could see how wide his doe-eyes were. And he jumps up the moment he spots you slowly approaching the door.
“How’d you know I’d be here?” you ask quietly, trying to avoid his gaze.
“You say that as if you don't practically live in the library," he says, almost amused. "If you mean how I knew you'd be here so early - I took a chance. I would’ve waited all day until I saw you… All week, if that's what it took. And I probably would've convinced Mr. P to include a note with your exam sheet if you decided you disliked me until then.”
….Shit. Sure, you’d never end up with him, but he only fidgeted with the loose strings on his hoodie when he was really stressed - a sight you'd only seen once after a supposed tough day at wrestling practice. Now, they'd been undone with a hole at the bottom of the thick fabric. Knowing you caused it...
“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I shouldn’t have…”
“Yeah. You shouldn’t have,” he grumbles before shaking his head. “No, you don’t... You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me your time… I should’ve stayed “out” like I promised, but… I just want to know if you were okay.”
“I am,” you barely let out. With tears bubbling in your eyes, you walk into the library.
“I don’t believe it,” he says, trailing you.
“I kicked you out, remember? Stay out. Why do you even care?" you say without turning back.
“I care about you!”
When you finally stop to stare at him, Jungkook doesn't allow you to deny him, immediately grabbing your hand and pulling you deep into the library, through the twisty, student-filled desks, between sky-high bookshelves.
“Y/N, I want you to be okay. You don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to tell me anything, but… that's all I want. For you to be okay and happy and... you can't lie to me and tell me that you're alright. You can kick me out as much as you want to, I promised I would let you do so, but I'll always be waiting for you right outside that door. If you'll allow me to... I'll always be here for you."
The tears come pouring out, and without a thought, you rush into him, sobbing into his chest. “Hey, hey,” he says, a hand in your hair and the other soothing your back. "I’m here. I told you I'm here.” You missed his embrace. Had assumed you’d never feel it again. You probably won’t, past this point.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you stare up at him. “Is it the stress?”
“No, Jungkook…. It’s.. you.”
“Me?!” he says, gesturing towards himself.
“Well, no, actually… I guess it’s me,” you mumble, staring at his hands, now at his sides.
“I don’t understand, Y/N.”
“Jungkook, we need to stop these study sessions. Not for a week but… I’m permanently kicking you out, and I don't know if I have it in me to ever unlock that stupid metaphorical door again.”
“Exile, huh?" To your surprise, he nods. "At least let me know this… Am I that annoying?”
Out of desperation, you almost say yes, but you’ve been cruel enough - Jungkook didn’t deserve any of it.
“No. No, not at all…”
He pauses. “I don't understand, but if this will make you happier, all I can say in this case is… thank you. I don't about my grades as much as you do, so I'm really just thank you for all this time. I…. I liked…. I liked spending this time... spending this time with you,” Jungkook lets out, his voice breaking.
Looking up at him, you see his eyes red. Was he about to cry too?
“It won’t,” you mumble.
“What?” he asks, looking down at you as if he were looking up, teary-eyed and innocent.
You either tell him, or tell him nothing and risk…. other people telling him, along with their own added commentary on how you weren’t good enough. It would be easier just to let that happen... Letting go of him yourself, despite the pain, would be more merciful on you both. So, you do, breaking away from his embrace.
“It won’t make me happier if we stopped.”
“Then why do we have to?”
“Jungkook, we need to stop because… for the first time in my life... I’ve set myself up for failure.”
“You’re the smartest person in the entire university. How on Earth did you set yourself up to fail?”
"Because I did it by stupidly falling for the best person in this entire university. I... like you, Jungkook," you spit out, hiding your face in your hands as soon as the confession leaves your lips.
“How is that setting yourself up for failure?” he sniffs.
You can’t help but notice a shift in his tone as he pulls your hands away from your face and tilts your chin towards him. He looked as serious as he sounded.
“Jungkook, be real.”
He stares at you, confused.
“You’re.... a star. Everyone here knows who you are - you're the best in every field imaginable - sports, art, music, academia, and on top of all of that, you're the sweetest, kindest, smartest - fucking best person I, well, everyone knows. And... look at you and look at me. I make sense of everything in this world, and this doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows it. They already give us weird looks for even sitting together. I know you just needed help, and I was happy to offer it, but I thought I'd be smarter than this. I think you probably offered to be there for me as a friend. I think we're friends, right? Either way, I think I've been an idiot for even thinking of you in that-"
Jungkook's lips meet yours, interrupting your ramble, train of thought, and your breathing with a kiss.
“You think too much," he whispers against your lips, stroking your soft cheek with the back of his index finger. "You can never set yourself up for failure, genius. I like you too.”
“No.... Stop," you say, taking two steps away from him. "Jungkook, you're being mean."
"Mean?!"
It had to have been a prank. Jungkook being so committed onto getting a good grade, once again.
"You can't use me like this. And what, you'll ghost me after the exam? After all the help? Pretend I never existed?"
"You say that and call me 'mean'? Do you really think I'd do that?" he asks, letting out a huff with his eyebrows furrowed. You'd never seen Jungkook.... angry. "I would never. Not to you, or anyone. If that were the case, if I weren't so goddamn in love with you, I'd be standing ashamed, fessing up in front of you instead of feeling so hurt and angry. The girl I like really thinks so low of me?" Taking a deep breath, Jungkook collects himself. "I wouldn't spend a semester with you if that was the case. I don't know why you'd think... that."
"It doesn't make sense, Jungkook...."
“it makes sense to me,” he says, stepping towards you until he is inches away and you can almost feel the heat between your bodies. “Why does it not make sense to you? You’re clever, aren't you? What’s that theory - every action has an equal and opposite reaction? You like me, and I like you. Equal. Two-ways. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“So… you aren’t just using me for help?” you ask. "You... like me?"
“No, no, I’m not using you for your brain…." he says snarkily before tapping his forehead against yours and letting out a smug laugh. "In fact, I think you’ve been pretty stupid.”
“Stupid?!” you recoil at a word you had never been called before.
“I said pretty stupid. And by that, I mean stupid pretty - in that you're unbelievably attractive - but also pretty kind of stupid, yes. You’re smarter than this, usually…." Jungkook envelops his arms around your waist once again, trapping you. Stunned, all you're able to do is look into his eyes as he goes on.
"Y/N, I want you to think for a second… Did I really need all that help I asked for? Did I really make it onto the Dean's List when I was supposedly doing that badly? Did I really not understand? Did I really need to sit beside you while we both worked? You said it yourself, I'm among the smartest kids in this school. I’ll let you in on a secret… sometimes I used to finish up my work before you and just played mini-games on the computer.”
Jungkook's hands find your face, pushing back a strand of your hair and giggling at what must've been a puzzled look on your face. When your gaze wanders in realization, trying to put all the pieces together, his hand cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“Sure, you helped me a little bit, but it was... heaven getting you to explain things to me, especially the things I already knew. It meant I could just spend my time staring at you, getting all passionate and excited. Do you know how wide you smile when I act like I 'get it'? Or whenever I actually do. It's why I keep asking you to repeat it - I can never retain any of the new information because all my brain wants to focus on is you.
For God's sake, ask Taehyung and Jimin. Ask them how much I talk about you. Did you ever actually listen to what they say when they specifically see us together in here?"
"I assumed they were making fun of you," you mumble.
Jungkook scoffs. "Yeah, no, Y/N. They tease me for having the guts to fight but not to confess, they kept trying to pressure me to do so."
It's hard to remember that Jungkook was a trained fighter when his embrace felt so safe, you think, staring at his torso in disbelief.
"Still don't believe me? Ask Mr. P how we got assigned together for that paper.”
The sentence stuns you to your core more than anything, jerking your head up to face him.
“I never needed that much help. I just… I wanted to spend time with the girl I'd had a crush on since I got here and didn’t know how to. I like you…. I always have…. idiot,” he says, pulling you closer to him until his lips meet yours in another kiss.
Just this once, you were euphoric to be so stupid.
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rootbeerworshiper · 4 months
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Normal (part 1)
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pairing: fem!character + matt sturniolo
summery: Abigail and Matt have been best friends for years and practically grew up together. the two hiding their feelings for one another, until one stupid drunken dare changes things.
warnings: swearing, suggestive parts, drinking, slight mention of abuse but not too much detail.
this is the first fic i’ve ever written but i actually like it a lot and @sturnswrites convinced me to post it
no idea where this story is going but for now, enjoy!
pt 2 pt 3
love, sienna <3
the first time i saw him was my first day of grade 4. i was new and incredibly anxious. i had always been an anti social child and for the most part i was okay with it, preferring reading books over introducing myself to others. but for whatever reason, it no longer felt okay. i struggled to see all the groups of girls laughing and eating lunch together, for whatever reason it stung.
i was fully prepared to sit by myself, walking over to an empty table with my lunch bag, but that’s when i heard something. well, heard someone.
“hey!” a boy yelled from behind me. after pausing for a moment, i assumed he wasn’t talking to me and picked up where i left off, back to the empty table.
“Chris you’re so dumb how is she meant to know you’re talking to her” another boy said, this one wearing a power rangers shirt
“oh… right” the boy with the longest hair replied, thinking momentarily
i finally arrived at the table and began opening my lunch kit, also looking for my headphones. i liked to drown out the voices of others, focusing on the lyrics of my favourite artists. i grabbed the wired headphones and untangled them before beginning to eat my sandwich.
i thought about how lonely i felt, how stupid i probably looked, eating the sandwich my older sister packed for me in a room surrounded my kids with food from the cafeteria. these thoughts consumed me until all of a sudden i felt a little less lonely.
looking to my left, my brows furrowed. a boy. sitting next to me.
he didn’t say anything at first, opening his lunch kit simply and taking out his snacks for the day. eventually though, he mustered up the courage to speak. “are you listening to black eyed peas?”
i shift in my seat, stomach immediately filling with anxiety “oh um yeah i am” i said quietly biting my lip, looking at the boy for any sort of emotion “im sorry i’ll turn it down i-“
“can i have a headphone?” he says. i wasn’t sure what to do in this moment, is this how you make friends? would he hate my music? did he think i was a loser? i try to shake the thoughts out of my head and focus on the boy facing me, who is now opening up a bag of my favourite fruit snacks.
“only if you give me a fruit snack” i smile, taking out a headphone from my ear and holding my hand out.
“deal” the boy replies placing two orange fruit snacks into my palm and grabbing the headphone. “what’s your name? i haven’t seen you before”
i cant believe this is happening, like at all. “my names Abigail but most people call me Abi” i reply, tilting my head back and throwing the two fruit snacks in my mouth.
“i like that name. Abigail. it has a good ring to it” he says before thinking for a moment. the feeling in my stomach is replaced by butterflies. i place my hands on my cheeks, attempting to hide the blush that’s tinting them “i think i have a better nickname then Abi, how do you feel about Bee?”
a confused look makes it’s way to my face. “like the bug?” he nods his head excitedly. “sure, you can call me Bee” i smile. “what’s your name? you haven’t told me yet” oh god that sounds weird, i’m so awkward i should just get up and go while i can-
“i’m Matt. well technically i’m Matthew but no one calls me that, it’s too formal” he smiles back, taking a bite into the sandwich that his mom made for him.
“well now i need a special nickname for you” i say, biting my lip as i try and think of something. i fidget with my fingers for a moment before i think of something. “how do you feel about Matty?”
“hm it’s okay.” he replies, mouth half full. i feel so stupid he probably hates it “but only you can call me that” this immediately brings a smile back to my lips.
“sounds like we have a deal Matty”
“sounds like we do, Bee”
since that fateful day, i had a friend and well, unbeknownst to me, the friend i made came with two others, Chris and Nick.
the three boys made me feel so much better about starting at a new school, made me feel seen at times where i’d normally feel invisible.
my home life wasn’t great, to put it bluntly it was shit. my mom was working all the time and i barely ever saw her and my dad, well i saw him more than i’d like. he was never physically abusive, and it took me many years to refer to anything he did to me as abuse, but really that’s what it was.
he would constantly remind me that i wasn’t good enough, saying that him and my mom wished i was never born. as you can imagine, it hurt like a bitch. but i always had my older sister there to pack me lunches and write me notes of encouragement. looking back on it, i feel more bad for her than i do myself because she had to endure all that shit and she didn’t have an older sister to cry out to.
when she went off to college i was heartbroken, not that i would ever show it to her.
the sudden absence of a family figure in my life made me closer to the triplets then i has been before.
i was always close to Chris and Nick and they were like family to me, really. but something about Matt always set him apart.
every time he’d ask me to hangout my heart beat would speed up, or when he puts his arm around me and i suddenly feel the same feelings in my stomach that i did in grade 4.
him and i understood each other on a different level, we helped one another in many ways. whenever i had a problem, i always had someone to turn to, and he had the same.
another important thing to mention about Matt is that he was my first kiss.
it was in sophomore year, and Chris had gotten us invited to our first real party, although there wasn’t more than 15 teenagers there, it was still a big deal.
Matt never liked the idea of drinking, said he didn’t wanna lose control. i didn’t like it either, my dad did most of his yelling under the influence of beer, and every time i smell it it’s like he‘a breathing down my neck all over again.
everyone else at the party drank, but it didn’t bother me because i had Matt by my side.
“we should play spin the bottle!” Chris suggests, already 3 drinks in and somehow more confident than ever before. i knew he only wanted to play because his crush was there, so i went along with it.
“sure, could be fun right?” i look to Matt who is internally freaking out. he just nods so i grab his hand and we head to the middle of the dim lit basement.
the drunk teenagers all eventually form a circle on the rug and place an empty beer bottle in the middle.
“who’s going first?” Nick asks, sipping on the random sweet cooler in his hand. “dibs out” he laughs with Alahna, another friend brought to me through Matt.
“i’ll go” the long haired triplet says, running his hand through his hair and leaning into the middle of the circle to spin the bottle
i just laugh and whisper to Matt “i wonder why that is?” Matt just shoots me a shocked look but ultimately joins in on my laughing
Chris ignores us and spins the bottle, landing on Alahna. “bro” he groans, placing his hands over his face
“wow you really know how to compliment a girl Christopher, i’m so flattered” she jokes, earning a snort from me across the circle
“no not like that-“ he begins to defend himself but ultimately gives up “whatever” he sits up and leans across the rug, giving the girl a peck on the lips, both of their faces becoming engulfed in disgust.
“Matt you’re next” a random guy from across the circle says, causing Matt to rub his hands over his face
i put my hand on his knee and speak just loud enough for him to hear “you got it Matty” he just groans and leans forward to spin the bottle
it feels like an eternity has gone by when the bottle finally lands.
on me.
it’s not like i haven’t thought about kissing him before, but this was so… real.
a blush creeps it’s way onto my face which i cover with both of my palms, internally freaking the fuck out.
Chris had his fun teasing us, but eventually something needed to happen. i looked up from the floor to the boy next to me. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just a dumb game” i explain, trying to avoid the awkward feeling forming in my stomach from the way he looks at me.
he thinks for a moment before shrugging. “i’m down if you’re down, just a game right?” he doesn’t know how that sentence makes me feel, my heart doing literal backflips inside my chest.
“okay” is all i say when he suddenly leans in, finger making its way to my chin to guide my lips to his.
the kiss is short lasting, but sweet. i didn’t realize i was craving the feeling of his lips on mine until i experienced it.
he pulls his lips off of mine but keeps his hand on my chin for a moment longer, remaining eye contact with me until Nick speaks again.
“okay that made everyone uncomfortable please get a room” he jokes and the game continues on for a while, drunken kisses being shared throughout the group.
but i can’t get my mind off of the way my best friends lips felt on mine, how right it felt. at least to me, it was just a dumb game to him, right?
After that night, Matt and i never mentioned kissing each other again, and everything went back to normal.
other than my feelings for him that i gained that night. i couldn’t get my mind off of his lips, how soft they were, how they fit like a puzzle piece onto my own. it felt like a dream.
but again, we decided to go back to normal.
however, normal, became well, not normal.
stolen stares became more common, and soft touches were now intentional.
unfortunately this didn’t stop him from dating other girls, and i mean why wouldn’t he? he kissed me once in some strangers basement, it’s not like he fell in love with me on the spot.
as his best friend i helped him get girls, telling him all the right things to say and do, constantly wishing he would do those things for me.
i knew i was torturing myself but he was my best friend and losing him was not worth telling him how i felt. so i kept it to myself. for years.
it wasn’t too bad at first. somehow i was able to keep him off my mind for the most part and i tried my best to find other potential suitors, but as you can probably imagine, nothing clicked.
when nick came out to me in junior year i was obviously thrilled, because it meant he trusted me and it was something that brought us together. but i also couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being honest about how i felt about his brother.
so i told him.
“no fucking way” he says, hands rubbing his eyes as if he just saw something traumatizing. i bit my lip, a bad habit i haven’t been able to shake, as i looked to him, awaiting a reaction. “you’re in love with my brother and i’m just now finding out?” he didn’t sound overly mad but he certainly wasn’t happy.
“i wouldn’t say in love” he just rolls his eyes. “i’m sorry! i just didn’t want you to be mad at me and it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen anyways so i didn’t think it was relevant” i ramble, fidgeting with my fingers anxiously. if Matt were here his hand would be placed in mine to calm me down.
“i’m not mad, i don’t think.” he thinks for a second, furrowing his eyebrows before speaking again “when did it start?” he asks
“sophomore year. in the basement” i feel so incredibly uncomfortable but i know that it’s only fair for Nick to know.
he’s confused for a moment before realizing “well shit” he contemplates in his head for a moment longer “i actually see it” he’s smiling now as he looks to me
“see what?” that’s all i can muster up the courage to say, still incredibly awkward saying these things out loud
“well like, i see it. like you guys together, i never thought about it before but it actually makes so much sense” the last thing i needed was Nick feeding into my delusions.
“yeah right, you don’t have to lie to me, i can live in peace knowing it’s a one sided thing that’s going nowhere” i reply, and it’s true. i came to terms with Matt not liking me back a long time ago.
“i’m not lying, i mean he’s definitely too stupid to realize what’s there but i fully believe that there is something there” nick says and i don’t really reply, now fidgeting with the ring Matt got me in freshman year. “but i’m glad you told me, now we can help each other, you find me a boyfriend and i get my brother to like you back”
i audibly laugh “i’ll definitely find you a boyfriend but you don’t have to worry about Matt and i, i’ll move on eventually”
3 years later and i still hadn’t moved on.
i mean it was definitely more of a repressed feeling, but still a feeling nonetheless. at this point it was a little embarrassing.
i tried dating around, but usually i got bored and gave up. i also tried casual hookups but it gets pretty boring having bad sex all the time.
and all of that brings me to tonight, at yet another “get together” with the all of the triplets friends and i can’t help but feel extremely out of place.
other than Nate and the triplets, i’m not actually friends with anyone here, and it doesn’t help that majority of them are influencers. so although i normally don’t drink, i needed to do something to get rid of the anxious feeling in my stomach that brews the longer i stay sober.
some rap song that i’ve never heard of is blasting in the back round and i get lost in my own thoughts for a moment. “you’re drinking?” Chris asks, now standing next to me as i lean against the kitchen counter. before he gets an answer he grabs the solo cup from my hand and takes a sip.
i roll my eyes and take the cup back. “you could not be less obnoxious if you tried Chris” i take another sip, if i could leave now i would, but i promised Nick that i’d stay.
“wow aren’t you just a bundle of joy right now” Chris fake smiles and goes to the island to pour himself a drink. “what’s got you in a bad mood?” he yells just loud enough to be heard over the music.
i’m not entirely sure how to answer the question. oh you know I’m just in love with your brother and he’s talking to three girls at once in the corner! yeah not happening. “nothing really, i just don’t love parties” i say, finishing my drink now to make room in my cup for another.
“mmm sure” Chris rubs my head and messes up my hair, same thing he’s been doing for years and it pisses me off every time, well except for now. i’m too preoccupied with literally anything else to care. “i think they’re starting a drinking game over there now if you care to join”
i look to the group of people who are now in the living room. normally i’d say no right away, especially with what happened last time i played a drinking game, but the alcohol is getting to me and the triplets are definitely not the only attractive guys at this party. “sure why not”
“that’s my girl” Chris smiles, dapping me up and we walk towards the living room together. i try my best to avoid looking at the girls drooling over Matt on the couch.
i’ve never drank before i definitely feel more confident as i sit next to some “influencer” i don’t know the name of, but he’s hot and Matt currently-
has his hand on some girls lap.
awesome!
“okay i think what we’re gonna do is like, truth or dare but if you don’t do either, then you take a shot” Nick explains “any objections?” he looks to me subtly but i choose to ignore him “alright, hm.. Nate truth or dare?”
the boy just smiles and sits up from his previously comfortable position on the couch. “i’ll do truth for now, i’m not drunk enough yet for dare” he jokes, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“okay let me think” Nick replies, eyes darting upwards as if he’s looking into his head. “where was the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”
the room is filled with laughter and cheers momentarily before he answers. “alright i don’t even have a weird place because i’m not a freak like Chris over there but probably just the car” Nate explains
“i feel targeted right now” Chris says, holding his hands to his heart as if he’s been shot.
i continue to sip on the drink in my hand for a few more rounds before my own name is called by Chris. “okay Abi truth or dare?” he smirks, assuming I’m going to play it safe.
“dare”
my thoughts are confirmed when everyone in the room shares the same shocked expression as Chris. “alrighty then i need to pick a good one” the long hair boy rubs his head, attempting to think of something good. “oh i have one” he smiles and i know it’s gonna be something crazy by the way his eyes glimmer. “i dare you to give a hickey to the hottest person in this room”
my jaw literally drops. as much as i’d rather not suck on someone’s neck in a room full of people, i know that if i take the shot now i’ll never live it down. “bet” i smile, trying to come off as confident although i am literally shitting myself. i look around and of course i make eye contact with Matt.
normally, i wouldn’t do something so irrational, but i’m 4 drinks in and feeling the need to prove myself.
i make eye contact with him again after looking around and i swallow my pride and place myself on his lap. “this good?” i ask him quietly. he just nods and well i get to work, placing a few teasing kisses along his jaw before picking a spot and sucking until i pull away and see a mark. “there all done” i pat him on the head and sit back in my original spot.
“well fuck okay then” Madi laughs with Nick from across the room, a few more rounds go by, some of them literally causing me to piss myself laughing, when abruptly, Matt stands up and literally b lines to his room. everyone makes their remarks on “tuff guy” Matt but i can’t help but feel bad. i’m not sure why i feel guilty, i don’t think i did anything wrong, but i can tell he’s upset and i’d hate to be the cause of it.
just as i’m about to get up Chris’s hand places itself on my leg. “don’t worry about him, trust me he’s fine. you deserve to have fun” he looks at me with a sort of seriousness in his eyes that causes me to slouch back down into my seat.
the rest of the night is filled with my own thoughts about Matt.
was it something i did? was he angry? sad? why didn’t he say anything? where is he? what is he doing right now?
as his best friend i know i should be in there comforting him the way he had done to me countless times but for whatever reason, what Chris said stuck with me, so instead i sat and watched a bunch of dumb 20 something-year olds play truth or dare at 1am. not my idea of a fun time.
authors note: next chapter will be very similar to this one but by chapter 3 there will be fun angst trust🤞
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mrdixon · 6 months
Text
A Rugged Muse | Chapter 1
pairing: eventual daryl dixon x f!reader
wc: 3.1k
warnings: swearing, violence, slight depiction of gore, vomiting
summary: reader has a shit day. basically the day of the outbreak.
A/N: FIRST CHAPTER WOOOO i am clearly not an art major…. im in the different arts. so apologies to you visual artists im going off from my lack of knowledge from my hobby lol. i really hope you guys enjoy this series because i am EXCITED to write it.
a rugged muse masterlist |regular masterlist
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“Fuck,” you groaned, slamming your forehead onto the desk in front of you. A few heads turned to look at you in the library, you cursed under your breath and looked up again after a moment. Adjusting the glasses askew on your face before looking at the paper on the desk. The paper before you was worn with erased pencil marks, slightly wrinkled. Art block was the worst, you’d rather be ten feet under than stuck with art block.
You sighed, it’s been months since your last project and even that was a fail. It didn't help that you only worked at a fucking minimum wage job, maybe you should've listened to your parents and became a doctor or something. It wasn't like it was always like this, no… art school was a breeze. You had hosted real galleries where people came to see your art, and now look at you. Moping around in a library, desperately trying to find something to draw.
After tapping your pencil against the table which by the way, earned many dirty looks, you scooted closer to the table. Picking up your old sketchbook and frantically flipping through it to find…. so many god damn drawings of, him. Your god forsaken ex boyfriend, but he was gorgeous.
You met him ironically enough in art class, way back in high school. He was there by choice, you were not. Yet everything about him was just so captivating that you couldn't help but not switch out of the class, thank god you didn't. You enjoyed the class more than you expected, painting being one of your favourite forms of art, oils being your preferred medium. You painted and sketched every moment of the day, not putting down that brush for one second. Your ex boyfriend was your inspiration, every detail on that stupid face was engraved in your mind like a marble statue. His beautiful plump lips and the beauty marks that scattered over his face being two of your favourite features.
Art was everything to you, and so was he. He was all you drew, he made life seem prettier and happier. But then he dumped you for some random chick he met in a bar, that was six months ago.
Since then you've had no motivation and no inspiration for your projects. Flowers no longer had their charm, abstracts looked dumb to you again, oils looked muddy. Nothing worked.
You picked up your pencil and started at the paper again, pushing your glasses up before hesitantly sketching out lines. Your mind wandered back to him, you still couldn’t believe it. After years of being together he’d just leave like that? Those years of pure, innocent love where you’d make breakfast with him, take baths together, even paint each other for fun. Date nights that were full of giggles and messily painting on each others skin, his fingertips grazing over your eyelids and nose as he sculpted you out of clay. He threw that all away for a woman he’s known for one night.
Your pencil moved furiously against the paper, scarring it like he scarred you. When you looked back down at it you noticed it was him, those hostile eyes from that night staring right through you. Those words of heartbreak echoing through your mind, words that came from lips that used to kiss you every morning. You huffed angrily, no matter how much you hated him, he always came back. He was always in your mind, plaguing your thoughts like venom. Slamming your pencil down you stood up, ripping the paper furiously.
Now there were whispers, people looked at you weirdly. After remembering your place in the world, you picked up your things and packed up quickly, aching to get back home to your bed. While in your haste, you dropped something. You already were in an irritable mood so you took a deep breath before causing a scene over a dropped item, crouching down to pick up just to notice it was the painting knife he had gifted you months before you broke up. The words ”To the love of my life…” engraved on it. After shoving the painting knife back into your bag angrily you quickly got back on your feet and headed towards the door, not before throwing half your sketches into the bin. As if you couldn’t get any more frustrated, someone bumped into you which caused you to whip around. Though no words came out of your mouth as you took in the sight of the person.
They were sickly pale, sweating profusely and trembling. Their eyes were bloodshot, matching the… bite wound on their forearm? They shook looking at you, mumbling a meek apology and pushing their sleeve down over their arm before walking away. Weird. Anyway.
You turned back around, must be some weird prank or something. Whatever, you were extremely tired and needed to get back to your apartment asap. As you left the library the humid August air hit you like a truck, not helping your heated mood at all. Grumbling to yourself you tried not to let it affect you, instead pushing your hair behind your shoulders, what a convenient day to forget your hair tie. Nothing was going your way, it was like the world was against you. A scream broke your thoughts, it came from somewhere ahead of you. Great, someone probably got mugged and now you were next. Just another thing to keep you moody.
A woman turned the corner, running towards you. You braced yourself for the mugging but to your surprise, it never came. The woman’s face was drained, it was as if she saw a ghost. She didn’t stop running, she was terrified and stuff was falling out of her purse but she didn’t even bother to pick them up. You watched as she ran past you without batting as eye, what is going on today? Shrugging, you picked up the stuff she dropped, finders keepers. Gum, tissues, tampons, condoms, and… her wallet. You almost jumped in joy, you could really use the money right now.
Finally out of your mood you practically skipped down the street, looking through the wallet and counting the cash. $10… $28… $48… $130… $135— oh wait that’s a Canadian $5 what the fuck— $140. One hundred forty fucking dollars in cash, that woman must’ve been loaded to carry this much cash. Well, now you carried it.
Another scream broke your daze, but this time it was closer. You looked up and saw another terrified woman running towards you, this time knocking into you which caused you to crash onto the floor, the cash scattering across the pavement. Back in your mood.
“What the fuck is your problem!?” You yelled, watching the woman continue running and not even look back. Is there a goddamn marathon you didn’t know about or what? You fiercely picked up the scattered cash, shoving them into your bag immediately before crossing your arms and continuing your walk back to your apartment. Fixing your glasses you saw a man get tackled to the ground by another man a street in front of you, was this happening to everyone???
Much to your horror you watched as the man on top mauled into the other��s neck, tearing through the skin and splattering blood everywhere. You froze, feeling your blood run cold at the sight. You watched as the man kept eating away at the now, dead person. The man’s head turned slightly to grab at more of the bloodied flesh, you now noticing the cloudy eyes and gray skin. This man was already dead, so how was he…
You snapped out of it, turning the other way to avoid whatever was happening. This had to be a sick joke. Your heart was beating in your ears, weaving through the back lanes to find a different path to your home. Hair stood at the back of your neck as your senses were now alert, if whatever that was is real, you had to be way more careful. It was quiet in the alley, calm. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Stopping for a second to catch your breath and recollect your thoughts, bending over slightly and placing your hands on your knees.
“Jesus christ,” you muttered. You couldn’t get the visual out of your head, that man was murdered right in front of you. His eyes bulging out of his head when he couldn’t even scream for help, that… monster ripping his throat out and devouring him in broad daylight. You shook your head, running your fingers through your hair frantically as you tried to rid your brain of that image.
A low groaning filled your ears and before you could register it you were falling to the ground, a grunt escaping you as you quickly turned onto your back. One of those things were falling over you, your quick reflexes holding them up by their shoulders. You got a clear view of what they looked like, their eyes were clouded over, veins more visible under their pale skin, their lips and chin dribbling with blood. You grimaced, trying to scream but nothing came out, nothing but a flow of air. They were strong, jaw snapping closer and closer to you. If you didn’t do anything now you’d end up like that guy on that street. No fucking way you were going to die like that.
Struggling a little, you lifted your legs under them and kicked from their stomach. Throwing the thing off of you, grunting you scrambled to your feet. The thing quickly following, their leg twisted as they got up from the position you flung them in. Surely it would’ve hurt if it were you, but unlike you, they weren’t living. You opened your bag and shoved your hand in, cursing yourself in your head for shoving everything in there. You held out your other arm protectively while stepping backwards from the thing. The hand in your bag searched wildly for something to defend yourself with, something to kill with. Could you even kill them?
Your back hit the wall, panic filling your body as the thing got closer. Before it could get any closer you tucked your forearm under their chin to hold them back, a loud cry escaping you as you fought to hold them back. When you were starting to give up, the hand in your bag finally found something metal. Ripping it out you immediately swung at it with the item, sinking it into their head which was surprisingly easy. Adrenaline probably. The thing fell to the ground, dead again.
You let out a heavy sigh, sliding down the wall. You looked down at your hands, bloodied with what you could only hope wasn’t your own blood. You were shaking profusely, your breathing uneven. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing as you pressed your knees to your chest, the heel of your palm placed on your forehead. You stayed like this for a moment, you don’t know how long. But once you were ready you let out one last shaky breath before opening your eyes again, and glancing down at the thing on the ground in front of you.
You almost laughed as you realized you used the painting knife to end the thing, but you didn’t. You silently reached over and pulled it out, swallowing as it made a gross squelch sound. Looking down at your painting knife which was now covered in its blood, you wiped it off on their shirt. Taking a closer look at the body and noticing a bite mark on their shoulder, much like the person in the library. Your lip quivered as you imagined what had happened to them, what might’ve happened to you if you stayed. There was a low pit in your stomach as you stood up, your mouth suddenly filling with saliva before hunching over and vomiting. Your eyes filled with tears just realizing how close to death you were, throwing up your lunch.
You coughed, wiping your mouth on your sleeve before shoving the painting knife back into your bag. You had to get home, now. Your feet moved quickly, not stopping for even a second. There were barely anyone on the streets and you wondered if your home was even safe. Stop, your feet stopped. Don’t think like that. With a heavy breath you took off again, walking even faster towards your apartment building. Please, please, please….
You jolted suddenly as your phone started ringing, you grabbed it but didn’t stop walking. Answering without even checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” You said almost too quietly, still shaken up from your encounter with the thing.
“(Y/N)?? (Y/N), are you okay!?” The anxious voice yelled, it was your older brother, Glenn. You almost cried in happiness, walking even faster now.
“Yes Glenn, yes I’m fine…” you mumbled into the phone, breathing a sigh of relief that your brother was alive. “What is going on?”
“God, I don’t know. All I know is people are dying and coming back to life and eating each other and dying and coming back to—”
“Yeah, yeah I get it!” you cut him off, “I almost—” you stopped, deciding not to tell him about your fight. He was anxious enough, he always was but you didn’t want to worry him even more.
“Almost what?? You didn’t get bit did you!?” He yelled which caused you to pull your phone away from your ear in discomfort.
“No I didn’t, stop yelling.” You replied irritated, you heard him sigh on the other end. Hearing distant voices in the background. “Where are you?”
“I was at work when I saw everything go down, I drove back to the pizza place immediately.” He said more calmer, “but we’re gonna move out soon.”
You furrowed your brows in confusion, “wait why? Isn’t it safe there? Why not wait for help?”
“You didn’t hear? I thought you were always on your phone,” you scoffed in annoyance at his probe. “They’re setting up camps, courtesy of the military I think.”
You chest filled with hope, you were going to be safe. “Oh thank god, okay wait I’m going back to my place to grab some things. Where is the camp?”
When Glenn responded his end was filled with feedback, static. “It’s gonna. Arou— Ta—”
“Glenn?? You’re… you’re cutting off.” You said nervously, nearing your apartment.
“A— Yo— I’m—” And the call failed.
Dread filled your body once again, now you really were going to cry. You shakily walked through the apartment building, keeping guard for potential things around. Opting for the stairs, you walked swiftly up them. Out of breath by the time you reached your room, fortunately there was nothing to stop you.
Once you got in you immediately dropped everything, locking the door and collapsing to the floor. Tears filled your eyes once more and you let some of them escape and trickle down your cheeks, you were scared. Scared of those things roaming around, they could kill, you’ve seen it. You removed your glasses momentarily to wipe your face. You shook your head you took a deep breath and stood up, you had to pack and leave immediately. You didn’t know where you were going but you had to leave, you had to find Glenn.
Putting your glasses back on, you crawled over and rummaged through your closet carelessly, trying to find a backpack that was big enough to carry all your necessities. Your apartment was already a mess so you didn’t bother being slow and careful right now, which might have been a bad idea as you snagged your finger on a stray box cutter.
“Shit,” you muttered while pulling your hand back, a cut dragged along your index finger. You rushed over to the sink, washing it quickly before throwing a bandage over the cut. While doing so you heard a police siren drive by, the sound dying off as it drove farther and farther away. You sighed before returning to the closet, grabbing a big enough backpack and shoving as much clothes you could get while also leaving room for extra things.
You stood up and looked around your small apartment, your bed looked so inviting. You were exhausted beyond help, your body aching with the need to rest. I shouldn’t. You thought and continued scrambling for items to take with you, the amount of scattered pages of sketches filled the space that was your floor. Your heart broke at the thought of leaving your things behind but you knew it’d be useless to take with you, but you couldn’t take nothing.
You grabbed a few pencils and brushes, along with a small paint palette and placed them carefully into your bag, an empty sketchbook joining them. While searching you opened your desk drawer, three daggers which you made in a welding class a couple years ago. They were sturdy and well sharp enough, thank god you were good at making things. You took them and put them into a sheath to prevent stabbing yourself. You grabbed a few more things like a lighter, some bandaids, and batteries. You frowned at the lack of supplies you had on hand, but you tried to convince yourself that you’d be taken care of at the camps.
You moved over to your small kitchen and grabbed a water bottle which you filled, also grabbing a couple snacks that would keep you full for a few days at best. You heard a few distant screams outside, some screams of pain which caused you to wince. The sudden thought of living in an apocalypse dawned over you, a feeling of dread rushing through you. You couldn’t shake the feeling off but you chose to ignore it. You did not want to go into a panic right now, you had to have a clear and positive mind if you wanted to live.
You pulled your bag over your shoulders and walked over to your mirror to take a look at yourself, grounding yourself for the world outside. You wanted so badly to sleep but you knew you had to get a move on if you wanted to get to a camp safely.
“I can do this..” you whispered under your breath, clutching at the handle of one of your daggers, turning to the door. You just had to get to a camp, but more importantly you had to find Glenn.
★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★★○★○★○★○★○★○
more a/n: for the sake of having glenn as reader's older brother im having him be around 24-27 years old right now, reader being like 23 ish. and daryl will be like 32….??? i dunno im trying to make this as canon as possible BUT UGH IT IS SO $&£”*^%*£ so yeah there will be a little bit of an age gap between reader and daryl but i hope that wont be too much of a problem for you guys…. probably not. and do not quote me if i get settings or the timeline wrong like twd is confusing enough for me……….. again im also like rewatching and making sure to make everything as close to the show as possible, but theres also the possibility of me altering the timeline (muehehehe). anyways tysm for reading and stay tuned! ★
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svsss-fanon-exposed · 4 months
Note
I really appreciate your continued emphasis on people being free to enjoy canon and fanon as they want while providing accurate canon information! All the asks and PSAs you've shared on that recently reminded me of a fic where sj actually WAS innocent, even wrt abuse. They had to make an a/n how it was their spin deviant from canon so it'd be great if they could stop getting nasty messages pls. I just think we should all foster a nicer fandom environment, so I love what you're doing~!
Yeah, I personally might be a book-canon purist, but I can certainly recognize that not everyone feels the same way-- and at the end of the day, it is fiction, what people want to do with canon and fanon is up to them and really has little to do with them as a person. I hold authorial intent in really high regard, but no need to bully those who don't, and who want to rearrange things.
Of course, for something like you mention, I would advise using some kind of tag to indicate that it's off-script. Especially since SJ's abuse of LBH is an integral part of the story the novel is telling, changing things like that changes the entire tone of things.
If a fic where the characters are intentionally OOC gets popular, then people will inevitably start going to that fic's portrayal and mixing that up with canon details (this is, probably, why there is so much apologism and denial of SJ's canonical abuse of LBH in this fandom, though it certainly wouldn't be the specific fic you're referencing alone and is probably a combination of many different factors). I personally don't like portrayals like this, but if a writer is changing it for their story, then who am I to judge or harrass them over it? The only issue comes when it spills over into the wider fandom perception, and you have people swearing left and right that SJ had nothing to do with the fake manual (he did) or didn't actually mean to abuse LBH or want him dead (he also did, and this can't just be contriubted to unreliable narrator since it comes from his own perspective in the extras). So I think an a/n at the beginning is a good idea in situations like these. If writers don't want to spoil things, just simply tag that the character is OOC compared to canon-- no need to go into specifics, and readers will know going in that the portrayal isn't meant to be a take on canon or aligning with it.
No one knows how popular their fic will become, after all, and if it gets into the wider fandom space without proper context, things like "Shen Jiu was just treating LBH normally for the time period, he wasn't abusive, LBH was just a self-obsessed person trying to demonize him" become mainstream, widely held beliefs.
Of course, this is what my blog is for, hopefully rerouting some of those ideas, pointing back to the sources where the divergence happened, so that people can see that while they may enjoy this canon-divergent depiction, that they shouldn't bring it into canon-based analysis. I think sourcing fanon is very important for this reason-- better than just saying "you're wrong" is being able to say "this is where the idea came from."
At the end of the day, a deliberately off-script, ooc portrayal should be tagged as such and AO3 provides those tags for a reason. There's nothing inherently wrong with writing characters OOC to change a story. People can write what they want! It's the writer's job to make relevant information known, and the reader's job to filter it out and just not read things they don't like. I'm so particular that I put down probably 80 percent of fics I read before I even get through the first few chapters. That's just me though! I'm a canon snob! Other people have no issues and that's fine.
As long as things aren't skewing into abuse apologism in regards to the canon-universe, there's literally no reason I can't just ignore things I don't like, and there's no reason other people can't do the same with things they don't like.
Anyway, don't harrass artists and writers in the fandom. If you feel it absolutely necessary to leave a comment in regards to an OOC character portrayal, don't be mean about it, just say something like "<Character Name> seems to be a bit OOC here, is this intentional?" but even then, it's really not necessary to come into someone else's space like that. Make your own posts, write your own fics.
There is no reason to assume malice when there are other explanations. This is hard with topics like abuse apologism, but people also need to remember that this is fiction. SJ was abusive in canon, but he's still not a real person, and if someone wants to write a version of him where he's not abusive, then that portrayal can easily be treated as a version from an alternate universe where things were different. This is not the same as saying a person in real life isn't abusive, because in this case, it's not apologism-- it's literally a different universe where the rules of the original canon don't apply. In fictional and fandom spaces, it's a lot easier and better off to just give people the benefit of the doubt.
As long as you're not claiming that his canon behavior wasn't abusive (since that's about behaviors now, and not just a fictional story), it literally doesn't matter what people write in fanfic.
Authors, tag your fics with everything you'd like your readers to be aware of, because when a reader opens up a fic they're probably expecting the characters to follow canon unless stated otherwise.
Readers, read the portrayals and stories you like. Don't read the ones you don't. If something isn't tagged correctly, and you find out you don't like it after reading, just close the fic and stop reading.
No one should ever be harassing anyone else over fandom for any reason.
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kitorin · 11 months
Text
OUR SPRING
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003. perfect
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5:01 pm
"Fucking hell."
Normally, you'd have more shame, but given your current circumstances it was understandable for you to curse loudly in the middle of the hallway on your way home from the school library. All of this was so irritating, the rumours and all the attempted manipulation, both which, were from the exact same source; Kira Ryosuke.
It should be fine. That's what you've told yourself for a long time. But you've been corrected. Because rumour after rumour, it kept accumulating now it's consumed and become your school life, until your identity is once again established as one that only revolves around some guy who likes you.
"You better drop dead next time I see you."
"May I help you?" You pull yourself out of your livid trance, looking up from staring at your feet as you walk and realizing with horror that you say that right in front of someone else. What's even worse, is that you recognise who it was, possibly one of the worst people to unintentionally curse at. It's Chigiri Hyoma. Rising star of the jpop and jdrama industry, who also happens to be a member of one of your best friend's favourite band.
"I am so sorry. I swear it wasn't directed to you- A lot had been going on recently." You prayed, begging that he wasn't one of those celebrities who enjoyed tormenting regular people with their obsessive and toxic fanbases, or liked exploiting their fame to ruin others.
Despite being apprehensive of the social power he holds, Meguru was right every time he called Chigiri attractive. It was evident through photos, but they don't capture his beauty fully. There wasn't a blemish on his pale skin, his tied up hair seemed perfect, it was obvious people would die for his skin and hair care routine. Long eyelashes compliment soft features and his rose coloured eyes clouded with what seemed like concern.
Even though his features weren't inhumanely perfect or complied to the beauty standard to a T, everything just synergises together, curating his natural charm.
Visually, he embodies perfection.
"Ah I see. I understand." Just when you thought he couldn't look any better he smiles, teeth perfectly white and shiny, which were adorned with dimples. It made sense why he was an actor and idol, he pulls off school uniform and even makes it look fashionable, heck his school photo probably came out gorgeous too. "So, what happened?"
You were too busy admiring his visuals to realize you were going to reveal your current struggles to a total stranger. "Well it's just- wait, I don't even know you?"
"Neither do I. All the more better to open up to, no?"
He's kind of weird. No wonder why Meguru loves him so much.
Instead of addressing and responding to his statement, you take advantage of this opportunity, since he's always surrounded by fans. "Then, how do you deal with rumours? You're apart of that band egoism, right? You'd know a lot about this"
"Well. I'm not apart of the PR team, so I don't know the full details. But rumours don't have some sort of secret formula or trick to getting rid of them. Hence why most celebrities have a PR team."
If only you had one too.
"Are you the one everyone assumes is dating Kira? I'm guessing you're referring to all the gossip related to you too." Chigiri continues, seeming genuinely curious regarding your situation.
You nod, and barely process being dragged into a janitor's closet by him, the complete shock taking too long to register.
"Oi Chigiri, what're you doing?" Ending up in a janitor's closet with one of the most popular artists of your age was not expected.
"Dating rumours, you say?" He breaths out, dismissing your question, a chuckle soon rises in his throat. "We're not too different, no? I have the perfect solution for you."
"Which is?" Once again, he ignores your questions, slowly coming closer towards you, face close in proximity to yours.
"Date me."
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TWO | FOUR | MASTERLIST
PAIRING. chigiri hyoma x reader
SYNOPSIS. school gets overwhelming with constant rumours and accusations, thankfully someone is willing to help. but what happens when this mutually beneficial agreement escalates into something more?
GENRE. social media au, fake dating, idol / actor au
TAGLIST. @izzylovestnbhd, @angelchigiri, @punkhazardlaw, @silly-ez, @y-sabell-a
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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
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neverchecking · 10 months
Note
Hey again, thank you so much for the banana (haha) it was nice of you. And ever since we started talking about Wild and Sage, I couldn’t help but draw them. (Lowkey sorry, I couldn’t put much detail into them since I use a cheap app and it doesn’t like to do much, but I’m more of an traditional artist anyways, I’ll make a better one.) I want to join in on the “request train” but I’m not too creative with what I want like the others, but I’ll try.
So female reader had met both Wild and Sage but thought they were the same person. So she gets invited to their house and realizes.. twins… You can make it NSFW if you like, and you can use any kink that you would see fit… I’m not to good with kinks. But enjoy my drawing and have fun. 🍏
“Prepare for Trouble!”
“And make it Double~”
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OMG THAT ART IS SO GOOD THE GERUDO FIT AHHAHHH NAD SAGE MY BELOVED LOOK AT HIM JUST WANNA MONCH ON HIS FACE softly and with love bc he deserves it.
So the way this is worded makes me think you wanted Poly, so I went with these two as poly. Even though they hate each other.
Remember. They are not in love with each other, as that is Linkcest and I Will Not write that, but they are in love with Reader. Thank you!
I love the team rocket bit, cracks me up-
I am monching my second apple and offer you 🍌 *to the Zelda tune when you find a chest* BA-NA-NA-NAAAAAAAA
I am so funny I swear
Yall can thank @fanfic-fairy-fountain bc that picture of Sage is absolutely SENDING ME- I cackle every time I think about it
Sage is TotK Link!
Smut so MDNI, 18+!
Smut CW: Double trouble, threesomes, AFAB reader!, they turn it into a competition.
A Tick
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Could he honestly say that he was one hundred percent okay with the way things have played out?
...No.
He was still weighing his pros and cons actually. While he adored you and wanted to show you off to the world, he probably should've thought this through just a touch more.
But the fallen hero had a way of just getting under his skin. Like a tick. Staying there and eating away at him over and over again. It was infuriating. The competitive streak in him wouldn't let him just let this go. He had to prove to this...creature, to Wild, that he was better in every single way.
Every. Single. Way.
So he introduced you to him, against his better judgement. Just to rub it in his face. You were the light of his life and Wild deserved to know that Sage had won. Just this once he had beaten the odds, gave Hylia the middle finger, and had won you.
He did not account for Wild taking as great of an interest in you as he did.
Whenever Sage turned his back, there was that failure. He started off slow and timid, like prey poking at a snare trap, but soon grew cocky. What was once just handing you a single flower that they had found on the trail soon turned into Wild handing you a bouquet of flowers that he had obviously gone out of his way to get. What was once just offering you an apple or a handful of wild berries turned into hand-crafted snacks catered to your semi-specific tastes.
And thus the tick was back.
Only it had evolved. Feeding off of him and his actions, mannerisms tuning themselves to an echo of his own just to impress you. Which just would not stand.
You were his. Mind, body and soul, you belonged to Sage. You two had a house together, had talked about getting a pet, threw around the idea of marriage, had gotten as close as two individuals could get. He had felt the way your muscles moved under him as you clawed marks up and down his back. Had felt your teeth dig into his neck in a way to muffle your cries despite the fact that they were music to his ears. Had held you as your clenched and quivered around him, dripping onto his lap as your broke beneath his touch.
Sage just had to prove this to Wild.
Wild would never amount to what Sage was. Sage was just better. Faster, stronger, smarter, he had the failure beat in every way.
Including this way.
You were hanging onto his, arms locked around his neck, as your thighs shook from where he held them. He was standing, already nestled deep within you as he glowered down at Wild. Every second he wasted was another second you were left growing more and more nervous. You were already unsure about the idea, but agreed nonetheless. Because you were oh-so benevolent and oh-so kind. Perfect in every way.
Still, you pushed you face further into his neck, panting heavily against his ear. Your fingers clenched into fists against his neck before they released, knotting themselves in his hair. He could hear your silent plea all too clearly.
"Hurry up." He snapped, watching Wild flinch. What the hold up was, he had no idea. Wild just needed to get the fuck over it. "Hesitate any longer and I won't need to worry about showing you up."
Wild bristled, but remained silent for a second, coating his shaft in a clear oil before stepping behind you. His hands hesitated before landing on your hips. He stepped closer, fiddling with something Sage couldn't see before you were gasping. Your grip tightened and he immediately hushed you, cooing soft nothings into your ear.
People called him an asshole, a heartless lunatic, maybe even a rat bastard, which was probably all true, but he would be damned before he treated you as anything other than the divinity you were.
"Keep breathing, sun flower. You're doing so well." Sage hummed, rubbing his thumb up and down your thigh. Your entire body clenched, making him suck in a breath, before you were relaxing and Wild was lowly groaning behind you.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, feeling Wild so close-- something he never thought he'd have to put up with-- but he had a point to prove.
Sage was the first to move, gently pulling out and making both you and the Tick hiss before he was pushing back in. His whispers never stopped as he spilt praise after sweet praise, all for you.
"You're doing so well, my light. Taking us both like this? Truly impressive."
"Goddess-" Wild cursed, head falling to your shoulder as his bangs fell in front of his face.
He made it too easy sometimes. Sage smirked. "Gonna burst already, road rash?"
The nickname made the other growl under his breath, lip lifting in a snarl. "You wish, No-name."
Sage's movements went from a slow and languid pace to his hips suddenly snapping against yours. Your entire body jolted as you cried out, pulling at his hair. He gently cooed at you once more. "I'm sorry, I know. I'm sorry, princess." His attention turned to the other. "I can tell just by the look on your virgin face that you're practically bursting at the seams."
"Ha-ah-" Wild quivered behind you, knuckles turning white against your hips as he moved back an inch. "'doing just fine."
"Sure, you are." His rhythmic tempo picked up once more, only tempered by Wild slowly gaining confidence with his own thrusts. "Take one of her legs."
Wild did as told, freeing one of Sage's hands so it could move to thumb at your clit. You squeezed around them once more, making both males freeze as low groans growled out of their throats.
While he wanted to prove Wild wrong, so fucking badly, you came first. Your pleasure came before either of theirs. You were his goddess, and Sage made sure Wild understood that before letting him anywhere near you.
One look over your shoulder told Sage all he needed to know about the matter and where the Tick stood on it. His eyes blazed with a familiar lust, but not one driven by the want to see how far he could push. No, this was a need to feel you cry around him, coming undone as nothing but pleasure ran like fire in your veins.
For a parasite, Wild was a quick learner. Not as fast as he was, but fast enough, as his other hand took your other thigh from Sage, freeing both of his hands.
Sage knew your body, and he knew it well. He was able to play you like a fiddle and make you sing for him, doubly so now that you couldn't close your legs to keep him out.
Sage would never like Wild. Of this he was certain. However, there was a certain amount of respect he could lend to someone just as dedicated to treating you like the Goddess you were.
Just as long as he understood who had the upper hand.
And it wasn't a measly little tick.
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