#and i notice she's a bit annoyed at my lack of interest

[chuuyyass]

People that don't understand that when you're an introvert, you need to take a rest from social events, even if we are best friends ????

#I've been all this week meeting and talking with people bc I'm moving to another city #and I'm tired of socialising #i just want to stay alone 1-2 days before classes start on monday #but my bff is having a birthday party for her boyfriend and sincerely i dont feel very motivated to go #and i notice she's a bit annoyed at my lack of interest #plus all her boyfriend's friends smoke and i dont want to stay in a flat that stinks to weed #jenn talks

[yuellii]

🪼 HI USER YUELLII OMG I LUV JEALOUSY TROPES MAYBE THAT SAYS... SOMETHING ABOUT MY CHARACTER BUT I LOVEEEE JEALOUSY TROPES. AND WITH NEUVILETTE????? SOEMONE WHO PRIABBLY DOESNT EXPERIENCE JEALOUSY OFTEN IF AT ALL???? im sold. IM SOLD. PULLING OUT MY CREDIT CARD. IWOULD LITERALLY KILL TO READ UR THOUGHTS ON IT

The Four Stages of Jealousy : THE IUDEX.

STAGE I. — Identification.

There is a threat, that a person may feel losing someone to someone better than them. "I want what you have, and I hate that you have what I want."

Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure of the sudden twist in his stomach as he stood at your doorstep, a bag of pastries tucked under one of his arms and a box of tea bags carried under his other.

Saturdays, three o’clock sharp in the afternoon held meaning: A time in which he’d arrive at your boutique, treats in hand and a pleasant look on his face. He’d try on one of your hats, maybe, for it was a prime time for tea, taken advantage of by the two of you, alone together every Saturday afternoon. It was an evening of the week where he was most happiest, though that might’ve been only an assumption. But the tranquility he usually felt standing at your doorstep was never one he could ignore.

Unfortunately, said tranquility seemed to be lacking this time around.

What he expected as another nice time alone with you ( especially since it was on your undocumented schedule—but who cared for documents, when he looked forward to this meeting every week? ) was instead being interrupted by a certain someone. Namely, a certain Champion Duelist. And maybe, Neuvillette would not be so bothered, had she not been sitting in his seat.

( Said seat was also unspoken, or ‘undocumented’ between the two of you, but still. He sat there every week—therefore by repeated pattern alone, that antique chair in front of the table should be his. )

( And sure, this might’ve been your boutique’s seating area, where everyone comes to sit during the day; But on Saturdays during tea time, he’d like to think that seat was practically reserved for him. )

“Neuvillette!” you practically gasped, facial expression turning into one of lightened excitement at seeing him. There was a blissful ignorance in your voice—‘ignorant’ in the way he was truly glad you didn’t know he was mentally annoyed at the mere fact his seat was taken. But nevertheless, the tightrope of his heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, which always sounded so enthusiastic every week he came back here. Perhaps you were just excited to see him as much as he was excited to see you—the thought alone brings a shiver to his spine.

He approaches forward with a polite smile of his own when you pat the empty spot adjacent to you on the loveseat. Ah, so the theft of his usual antique chair leaves him to sit beside you. Maybe the uninvited guest was welcomed, now that he thought about it.

“What brings Miss Clorinde with us today?” he finally asked, addressing the most obvious outlier first. When he set the bag of pastries down on the table, he watched as the Duelist eyed it with interest.

Clorinde hummed. “I was here for a small chat, then I was told that Monsieur Neuvillette would be ‘arriving soon’. And here you are.” At the recount of events, Neuvillette noticed how Clorinde threw a playful look at you. This playfulness did not stop, unfortunately for him, when she leaned forward to peek at the paper bag he brought in. “Then I stayed, because I thought: ‘What could the Chief Justice possibly say that’s interesting enough for weekly conversations?’”

You gasped at her teasing insult. “Clorinde!” you scolded with slight laughter. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a great companion for tea conversations! He’s very interesting, indeed, I promise you!”

“Thank you,” Neuvillette coughed through his words. He’s beginning to feel a bit awkward here…

“Oh?” Clorinde piped up again, just before Neuvillette could even get another word out. “There’s a lot of pastries in here, and also a new box of tea?”

“He brings them for us to share every week!” you exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag off the table and kindly distributing a treat to everyone. And that’s when suddenly, Neuvillette wishes he only bought one for the two of you, because he watches as you set down the pieces of Conch Madeleines in front of the Champion Duelist, despite Neuvillette knowing those were your favorites. Meanwhile, instead, you gave him and yourself the remaining other pastries. But surely, you wouldn’t just give up your favorites like that… Unless you favored Clorinde. Ah, but maybe he was overthinking it. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”

Clorinde sends him a casual smirk, likely to tease him. “Sweetest, certainly.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this at all.

When he eventually had to leave, Clorinde still stayed there to chat with you, and he felt empty walking out of your boutique. Emptier than usual, actually. It was certainly confusing, due to the fact nothing inherently bad happened, and he certainly didn’t want to say Clorinde’s presence bothered him, or anything over-the-top like that.

Hm.

Neuvillette didn’t get to talk to you as much as he wanted to today.

STAGE II. — Confrontative.

Where negative thoughts start to bloom as "envy." Jealousy begins to indicate love for the person, and the individual is afraid of losing that object of their love.

It’s the following Saturday when he sees you again, and he can’t quite understand why he feels an air of relief upon seeing that Clorinde is not there today.

“Neuvillette!” You greet him with the same smile and same excitement as always, and the rush of paradise courses through his body before he sits across from you in his usual seat: the antique chair right in front of you. He sets down his paper bag of fresh pastries; And upon doing so, he can’t help but smile when he noticed there are only two teacups on the table. One for you, and one for himself. “You seem a little more delighted today”—Was it that obvious?—“What’s gotten you into a good mood, Monsieur?”

He hummed. “Nothing, really.” He actually wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling so joyous today, either, but as long as you were sitting there still smiling at him, then it would all be alright. “It’s just natural, since it’s always my pleasure to spend my Saturday afternoons with you.”

Bring your hand up to cover your mouth, you lightly gasped at his words. “Oh, Monsieur!” you giggled. “I hadn’t known you could be a charmer with your words!”

He liked the reaction you gave him. He thinks he liked the feeling of approval you gave him, but even more. Neuvillette learned rather gradually that you always tended to get a happy sort-of embarrassment from his ‘compliments’. Said ‘compliments’, however, referred to mere truthful facts he’s laid for you. But there’s a certain loveliness that comes with confiding in someone to tell all your truths to, and he’s more than elated that you’re the one he trusts to blabber endlessly to. He just hopes it can stay like this for a long time: Just the two of you, enjoying your Saturday afternoon tea.

“So,” Neuvillette began, watching as you took a bite of the Conch Madeleine he bought specifically for you. He had to catch himself from smiling at you—if his duty was to buy your favorite treat every week, then so be it. “How has your week been since I last saw you?”

Your hand once again flies up to cover your mouth as you quickly finish to chew and swallow the bite before answering him. “It’s been fun, actually! I saw a concert performed by a famous violinist—I believe I might’ve even spotted you in the front row…”

“Ah, yes, that would’ve been me. It was a spectacular performance; I’m happy to know you saw it,” he smiled. Hm, if he knew you were there that night, he certainly would’ve said hello. Your hand moves upwards once more to bring your teacup closer to your lips, and now he’s curious to ask: “And that ring of yours—that’s new, when did you get it?”

“Oh!” After setting the teacup down, you quickly leaned forwards, outstretching your right arm to show off the ring to him at a closer view. “I just got it yesterday, actually. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is.” It really dazzles to compliment your eyes. Neuvillette catches himself thinking of little things he’s never thought before. Like the way your hair frames your face perfectly, especially at this angle. Or the way your eyes held this delicate shine he admired so dearly, only now heightened by the sparkle of the ring’s reflection. There’s a new tide of poetry unspoken in the depths of his mind, and they might as well stay locked until he figures out just what this emotion is.

When you offer your hand for him to get a closer inspection of the ring is when his breath seems almost stolen from his lungs. Months and months of these weekly tea meetings, and yet he feels this is the closest proximity he’s ever been to you. Here, in his antique chair in the middle of your boutique shop, holding your hand from across the table.

But he feels a spark that he prays you sense as well, for the mere desire of wanting this moment to last forever is enough to tell him that he is completely in love with you.

He leans down gently to reach closer to your hand, kissing your knuckle so featherlight next to the ring. “And it’s even more beautiful on you,” he mutters to you when he pulls away.

Your heart might’ve skipped a beat when you retracted your hand, but he has no idea—he was too lovestruck just now to even think properly. But you take just a moment to recover whilst he’s still stuck in his little daze; Though, who could blame him when he just discovered the ethereal feeling of falling in love?

“Thank you,” you exhaled with a smile that seemed a little breathless. “Lady Clorinde helped pick it, actually.”

…What?

Well, that was a name he completely forgotten until just now. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure after the sudden whiplash of emotions. From finding out he’s in love, to the pang of unwarranted negativity for the Champion Duelist. As expected, he couldn’t tell what this uncomfortable feeling was, but he certainly did not like it.

“Clorinde was there, you say?” he tried to clarify.

You nodded. A little too happily for his liking. “We went out shopping yesterday.” Oh. “And she said this ring really matched ‘the colors of my personality’, whatever that means!” you wholeheartedly laughed. The way you spoke of her, with all this smiling and all these giggles, was making him crave for something more. Did… Did you perhaps want to see him more outside of these tea times, too? You seem perfectly fine shopping with Clorinde now, after all.

He’s never gotten personal time with you like that. It’s always been solely Saturday afternoons, nothing more. And yet, Clorinde immediately gets invited to your shopping runs, and apparently her opinion is also important enough to make you buy the ring? How unbelievable. Neuvillette bets if he was there instead, he’d buy you every piece of jewelry that you even took so much as slight interest in, because that was what you deserved. But no, here he was, not invited to these outings at all, and further stuck wallowing as your mere ‘tea companion’, and not something more.

The door to the boutique suddenly opens, and the both of you turn your heads to the customer.

But instead of a client, you were met with the face of a slightly-smiling Clorinde, ever so amused to see the both of you here again. Well, she shouldn’t be amused. Neuvillette was here on schedule.

“Ah, you’re here!” you say excitedly, briskly standing up to grab another set of tea; And now, Neuvillette can’t quite tell if you greet everyone at the door with this same excitement, and it’s not just restricted to him alone. He shouldn’t be that selfish, of course, so he thinks perhaps it should just not be directed at Clorinde, specifically.

“Pardon me,” Clorinde announced, making her way to the table after you set the tea display down. “I’ll be intruding on the both of you again.” Neuvillette wishes he had any right to refuse.

This time, now that he’s regained his rightful spot on the antique chair, Clorinde had no choice but to sit… right next to you on the loveseat—the same place Neuvillette sat last week when his spot was stolen. A moment comes forth where he now no longer wants his seat at all ( which he doesn’t understand why, because shouldn’t he be happy his unspoken designated seat is back? ), and prefers the loveseat.

Maybe it was the sight of Clorinde next to you, and the fact she was sitting so much closer than he’d like to imagine. And suddenly, that’s when he realizes he doesn’t like the idea of Clorinde being this close to you at all.

“Oh! You’re wearing the ring I got you!” Clorinde recognizes. She grabbed your right hand to immediately inspect it, and Neuvillette can’t help but feel like someone just shot him. Not only did she comfortably grab your hand like it was nothing ( meanwhile, he had to find both the confidence and the breath to even try to kiss your hand earlier ), but she also got it for you? The little detail you never mentioned: That Clorinde bought you the ring.

Now Neuvillette is internally questioning what exactly this ring means. Is it akin to a proposal? A vow? A promise ring for the future?

The longer he stays here the more insane he may be driven, he thinks.

“Sorry to cut my time here short, but I think I have to get going,” he spoke up. Both Clorinde and you looked over at him, and he figured this was a good idea—he doesn’t think he can handle another tea session where the two of you are happily talking as he sits there awkwardly quiet. “I’ll be off, now.”

“Already?” you frowned at him, and that expression almost makes him want to stay. But the sight of Clorinde still absentmindedly toying with your hand sends him into a spiral of emotions he needs to sort out. He’s already stood up to leave without realizing it.

“Unfortunately so,” he says. He might’ve sounded colder than he meant to. It was clear in your face you knew something was wrong, but didn’t want to say it out of privacy. But when he walked towards the door, hearing Clorinde continue your conversation on like normal, it was fruitless to even consider it.

He opened the door. It was raining.

It feels like he was losing your love before he could even have it.

STAGE III. — Redirecting.

Where pleasure is derived from hurting others, stemmed from unconscious feelings of envy. The envy can come in a so-called as a form of competitive implication.

The next time he saw you was around the market area in the morning, wandering the streets like a normal citizen on this wavering Wednesday.

Normally, he would have just smiled and waved at most, but this time, something compelled him to walk up and join you. “Is this where to find you on Wednesday mornings?” he asked curiously, catching your starling attention and watching as your lips curved to a smile when you recognized him.

“It is, Monsieur.” When you stepped ever-so closer to him, a mere basket around your arm being the only thing between you, he felt as if his feet had turned into bubbles, and there was a flutter of heaven around his shoulders. “My weekly groceries are scheduled for today, however I don’t recall ever seeing you on this side of the city, if that isn’t just my ignorance.”

He chuckled, “I’m usually at my office by this time, so you would be correct.” Then his arm slid against yours, taking the wooden basket out of your hands and walking a few steps forward down the market street you shopped at. “But I’m open to a change of pace, so might I join you on this lovely morning?”

The little smile of contentment you gave him when you answered “Of course” made his heart skip a beat. And when you walked forward to hook your arm around his free one, he swears to the sovereign he might simply dissolve right then and there. The closeness of your presence to him now makes his heart race in a way he feels it drumming in his chest, a feeling that is so human that it makes him almost taste the fruit of mortality. You, walking along with him as you hold onto his arm whilst he carries your grocery basket—you look like romantic partners, and he can’t help but feel sort of lightheaded at the mere thought of that.

“Ah, look!” you pointed, and Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided by the arm to a nearby vendor. “They’re selling slices of apricot pie.”

“You fancy these desserts as well?” he mused, already fishing his pockets for his wallet. “Perhaps we should purchase a slice or two and save them for our weekend tea session.”

You agreed, “I thought the same.” Then you noticed his shuffling and playfully waved off his hand, insisting he needn’t pay. “But I fear it might spoil by the time Saturday comes.”

“You want a bite of mine?” And that’s when Neuvillette wasn’t even surprised anymore to hear the voice of the Champion Duelist appearing out of nowhere. He has such horrible luck running into her, that he’s now just accepted it at this point ( or, for better words: he still has yet to accept the fact that maybe Clorinde was specifically seeking you ). She stood there, leaned against a pole with an easy-going expression and a fork in one of her hands, carrying an aluminum tin with the exact same apricot pie you were just eyeing.

You gasp at her appearance, “Sure!” Neuvillette doesn’t even have a moment to process the mere seconds it takes for you to slip away from his arm, leaving him to follow behind as you skip over to Clorinde. The uninvited guest takes it upon herself to feed you a bite with her fork—it was at this time that the Iudex began to feel like an outlier once again.

“We were actually about to buy a few slices ourselves,” Neuvillette piped in. He did it quickly, perhaps it was instinct so he wouldn’t be left out of the conversation again. “But an excellent point was brought up, that the dessert might spoil by the time we reach Saturday afternoon.”

“Why don’t you just buy one and eat it now?” Clorinde shrugged. Ah. Neuvillette internally scolded himself; He should’ve thought of that. And when you waved off her suggestion dismissively, claiming it was fine now that she let you try it, Neuvillette realized he completely missed an opportunity to have dessert with you on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday. That while he was still a man you only saw once at the end of each week, you’d be seeing Clorinde multiple times throughout it.

He wasn’t fond of the way Clorinde was still feeding you more bites of pie, either.

“Miss Clorinde,” he addressed. If only he had more of a grasp of human sociability, then he might’ve realized how firm his voice sounded in this situation that was… not so serious. “Shouldn’t you be alongside Furina at this time of day?”

“On a typical day, yes,” she answered simply. “And shouldn’t you be in your office?”

He almost glared. “No, actually, I’ve given myself the time to roam around today.”

“Oh wowww,” she teased, though Neuvillette might’ve heard it as something mocking. “Lady Furina would be pleased to hear that. Instead of being cooped up in your office or the Opera Epiclese all morning long, you’re out here at the market, even holding a basket for shopping.”

The Iudex cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have you know that this basket isn’t mine.” There was an air of competitiveness in his voice, one that almost had him biting his tongue in surprise of himself. Because it was simply just as he said: a basket. But the fact it belonged to you, and the fact that he was carrying it for you—suddenly he wanted to boast it and show it off to the world, especially to Clorinde’s face. “The two of us are shopping together this morning, if you’ll excuse us.” His next move might’ve been bold, but the feeling of possessiveness was so airtight and he had no choice but to hook his own arm around yours once more, getting ready to turn and leave.

“So cold,” Clorinde rolled her eyes. ‘Cold’ was a word often used to describe him, but no, not here. He did not want to appear that way in front of you. “Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?” she asked, this time directed at you.

Something in him snapped. There was an emotion that clouded his head far angrier than annoyance, and it sprouted from the way in which she made him look bad, like the stone-cold Chief Justice everyone thought him to be. Albeit with you, he was trying to be everything but that. Emotional, vulnerable, heartfelt, human—Clorinde was not going to take that away from him.

‘Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?’ The question kept playing in his mind, as if she was any better than him? She, who most people also saw as stoic, should not be seen by you in a better light than him. She, who did not know your favorite desserts like he did, who did not make time for you like he did, who did not fancy you as much as he did—

He felt you tug at his arm, snapping him from his thoughts.

Your eyes held the same, worried look you gave him on Saturday when he left so abruptly. So jealously.

Neuvillette cleared his throat once more. “It seems you are correct, Miss Clorinde.” There was solemness in his voice. Yet he was so quiet as he unlocked his arm from around yours, and handed your basket to Clorinde. “My attitude proves to be too unfavorable for the likes of this lovely morning, I thank you for bringing it to my attention.” These emotions were too much right now; he was starting to fear them. “My deepest apologies to you both, I’ll be heading back to the Palais Mermonia now.”

He bowed his head as diplomatically as he could manage, but the skies were already darkening.

“I bid you both a fine rest of your morning.”

“Wait, Neuvillette!”

Your call was drowned by the deafening drums of his hammering heartbeat, and the patters of light rainfall from the somber sky.

STAGE IV. — Medea.

At this stage, the grip of envy appears almost irreversible. There is a hatred towards others that dominates their thinking, and happiness or success is no longer foreseen.

Saturday afternoon.

He couldn’t see you again, even if it was time for your weekly meeting, not when he was feeling like this.

Not when the sky was pouring from the mere thought of you, and how he’s probably already lost. It was inevitable for a man like him, and he should’ve realized so earlier. Three o’clock, and you were already probably sipping away with Clorinde at your side, pastries on the table and a dazzling ring on your finger. She was much more human than him, after all, and such a shortcoming became his eventual downfall.

The Palais Mermonia was quiet, though that might’ve been due to the endless rain that’s been pouring since Wednesday morning.

While it was nice, he couldn’t help but feel the silence only amplified his feeling of loneliness in this moment. Especially at this time: a time of the week in which he looked most forward to.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” a Melusine knocked from right outside his door. “You have a visitor!”

And before he could even reply, that was when you ignored all formalities, all proper respect as you pushed your way through the door and into his office. The surge of panic he felt from your sudden presence was unrivaled to the way you made haste in getting seated in front of his office table, setting down your handful—said handful consisting of two teacups, and a bag of pastries.

His heart practically shattered. The familiar cups and bag of treats on the table, the way your hair and clothes were lightly damp from the rain—you made the effort, coming all the way here just to see him. Just so the both of you wouldn’t miss a single Saturday afternoon together.

“I believe you might’ve forgotten our schedule, good Monsieur.” A light scolding, yet partnered with the most comforting smile you’ve ever given him, and he starts to feel his hands tremble. “You seem surprised to see me,” you commented further, filling in the silence as he has yet to utter even a word. “Did you really think I’d just let you ditch me like that?”

It was hard to breathe, hard to find his voice when you were so patient with him. “Sorry.” It’s all he can mutter now, this blistering swell of emotions causing a waver in his voice. “I’m so, very sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckled at him. His body tensed when you reached forward to grab one of his hands. But you felt cold just like the chilling rain outdoors, and now he worries you might catch a fever because of him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what was wrong, but…” Your eyes drooped with a certain sorrow in their crevices, and Neuvillette found himself slightly squeezing your hands. “I couldn’t seem to find a good moment alone with you.”

He shook his head at you, whispering, “I don’t even know what’s wrong, myself…”

You frowned. This atmosphere was suffocating and just from one glance upwards at your face, Neuvillette could easily tell you were holding back something to say. Granted, it was his fault. He’s the one who’s here, sitting and sulking in his office with little to no explanation. He’s the one who’s kept you worried this past week from leaving so abruptly two different times now. If anything, he might understand how to be a human even less after this ordeal.

“Would you be so kind…” he starts, words like lumps in his throat, “to allow me to be honest? To let me ramble whatever nonsense I’m feeling for just a moment, so that maybe you can make some sense of it all?”

You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. “Of course.”

There’s a certain phrase caught dead in his tongue. And he’s never been afraid to speak his mind before, yet suddenly, your judgment of his feelings mattered much more than the truth of his words. But he was feeling so much, and if this was really the emotional baggage humans had to carry all the time, he could only wonder how most people have yet to burst from the hauntings of their own mind.

Or more accurately so—the hauntings of their own love.

These words were doomed to come spilling out. “You’ve bewildered me with mountains of emotions,” he rambles quicker than he thinks. “All from the sleight of your hand, I best believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He forces himself to ignore how your eyes widen in that moment, or how the grip from your hands suddenly loosens from the shock that rings through his confession. He doesn’t have a way with words, and he knows this. So in a hasty attempt to piece together a board of emotional exposure his mind cannot even comprehend, he does the only thing he knows how to: talk and talk, until he has no more truth to confess to you.

“But the feelings that came alongside my love,” he began to you, “are unexplainable.” As his voice ended in coarseness, there was such an hopeless look of utter confusion you had never seen on his face before, like he was silently pleading for you to help a poor soul like his own. “The beating of my heart when I see you… A stark contrast to the tightness in my stomach I feel… When Miss Clorinde joins us.” The ending of his sentence dropped to nearly a whisper, like he expected it to be sin. “But what I just don’t understand, is why,” the section of his brows furrow in distress, “because she’s my coworker, and I do not dislike her, but I feel as if I cannot stand her when she joins us…”

You listen quietly. He doesn’t know whether to be thankful or fearful whilst awaiting your reaction.

He continued, “But when she sat with us for tea, and bought you that ring, and joined us at the market…” This confession; It was arguably harder than confessing his love to you. Because Clorinde was your friend—maybe even closer, if he was so unlucky—and he might’ve crossed a line here he didn’t even know existed. “I felt like I hated her,” he finished.

You were still silent, though it wasn’t like he could see your expression anyways. He refused to even look up to it, choosing instead to stare down at your joined hands.

But this silence was deafening. Please, just reject him already. He let out the most exhausted sigh he has ever before, the weight of these human emotions bearing down on him. “So I was just…”

“Just jealous,” you finished for him, and he noticed in your voice how you were almost laughing quietly to yourself. The emotion you just named—he didn’t know how envy even felt like, much less jealousy ( though, he supposes he knows now ). “Neuvillette, you should’ve just told me you felt uncomfortable with Clorinde there.”

“Hm?” He was confused. So confused, that his eyes finally darted up to meet your own. And there you stood, most comforting of smiles on your face as your thumb began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.

You reassured him, “Those are times we spend together, dedicated to the both of our comforts.” Which was true, but he was ready to argue that he felt selfish that way—and that you wouldn’t love nor deserve a selfish man. “I trust you to tell me when you feel things are unfavorable,” you continued, “and I promise you, Clorinde would understand if I told her.”

“But,” he piped up, so much doubt in his eyes as if struggling to believe your words, “is she not important to you?” And now, he could not comprehend the bashfulness that raised blood to his cheeks, or the complete disbelief that you’d wave off the Champion Duelist just because of his silly discomfort. Human relationships; He feared he may never understand them.

“Of course she’s important to me—she’s my friend!” you lightly laughed. “But you’re important to me, as well. Please understand that.” His heart might’ve stopped for just a moment. “And when we have our scheduled times alone together, the last thing I want to have is you feeling uneasy when we’re supposed to be relaxing.” Your words, the kindness you shed—it was all so confusing yet so welcoming at the same time, that he feels it’s only a matter of seconds until he drowns from the sound of your voice. To feel such comfort in a person was bizarre to him, but it’s a feeling that makes him crave your presence all the same.

His eyes fell to another slight frown, voice quieter as if losing the will to argue. “But… I should not have the right to impede on a relationship significant to you…”

Now it was your turn to look baffled. The way he worded it. Oh, surely he didn’t— “Monsieur, do you think Clorinde and I are a couple?”

“Well, I certainly thought you two were getting to that state in your relationship,” Neuvillette answered truthfully, voice flowing without hesitation as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. The man who just confessed his love for you only moments ago was fully convinced you felt romance for another woman. “Hence why I was…” He turned his head to the side, shyly clearing his throat. “Envious…”

You practically burst out into giggles. In fact, one of your hands even let go of his grip just so you could cover your mouth to laugh. “Oh… Oh, Neuvillette, surely you jest!” you attempted to name whilst controlling your laughter. The Iudex was shell-shocked into pure silence, wondering what he could’ve possibly said to make you react this way, because as far as he knew, he was not making a joke. “Clorinde is only a friend to me,” you clarified. “Nothing more.”

He remains silent, but there’s a sweeping wave of new emotions that suddenly flood his shoulders.

“And if she sees me as anything more, then, well,” you continued, glancing up outside and then back down to meet his awaiting eyes. “Unfortunately for her, the love in my heart has already been captured by another.”

“By whom?” The lack of hesitation from his immediate question has more giggles escaping your lips. He looks at you, and your face tells him it’s an obvious question with an obvious answer, and yet he still cannot comprehend this even when you squeeze both his hands in yours once more.

“Who do you think, Monsieur?” And yet even after his face flushes red, he still has a focused look of anticipation on his face—it’s as if he absolutely will not believe it until you spell it directly to his face. “Neuvillette,” you sighed, but there was an air of gentleness in the way you say his name that relaxed his soul. “It’s always been you.”

The rain continued on.

But now the sun shined between each droplet, because if he could cry from happiness right now, he was sure you’d already be busy wiping his tears away. And this sunny rain continued on and on, even as he poured you tea, even when he bit into the pastries you bought, and even when he looked at you fondly across his desk, not a single doubt of your love.

And as for Clorinde, well, he might need a few more days to recover before he can forgive her for all the sporadic heart attacks she’s almost given him.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #neuvillette fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #neuvillette

[leidensygdom]

The ways in which being asexual feels isolating

I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.

So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.

But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.

And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.

Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"

Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.

And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!

I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.

Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.

#lgbt #lgbtq #asexual #asexuality #aromantism #aro #ace #aroace #aromanticism #queer #long post

[papercorgiworld]

I pretty please request a little fic abt Enzo being jealous, you write him so well 🙁

“I’m your brother’s best friend, I'm allowed to be jealous.”

A jealous Enzo Berkshire x Nott!reader imagine 

Cedric asking you out has innocent Enzo freaking out.

Warning: a little bit of smut, little bit

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Blaise asks as he looks at Theodore who stares at you and Enzo entering the great hall laughing. “What?” Theo asks lazily. “That Enzo’s drooling over your sister?” Theodore snorts. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Rather Enzo than Matt.” Mattheo’s brows furrow as his eyes roll to Theo, raising his hands offended with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s wrong with me?” Mattheo says after quickly swallowing his food, but is quick to add: “On second thought, don’t answer that question.” Blaise chuckles but returns his focus on Theodore, asking silently to answer his earlier question seriously. “Enzo’s a good guy.” Theo explains. “I kinda hope they’ll end up together. He’ll be good to her and she’ll be good for him. Enzo doesn’t get into fights and he’s not a possessive psycho. He’ll treat her right.” Mattheo’s eyes knit together again. “Why do I feel so attacked?” Theodore ignores him and continues with a hushed voice since Enzo and you are approaching. “I kinda hope he’ll finally make a move.” Blaise raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath mate.” Enzo plops down next to Blaise. “Hold your breath for what?” Theodore smirks. “For Dumbledore to give slytherin points for something.” A soft laugh leaves your lips. “Never happening.” Enzo’s eyes focus on your smile as you fill your plate. That smile. 

Enzo was madly in love with you, but you were Theo’s little baby sister so he assumed you were off limits for him. However, Cedric Digory wasn’t friends with Theodore so there was no reason for him to stay away from you. You and Cedric had been good friends for years, much to Enzo’s dismay and every year you got prettier and every year Cedric showed more interest in you and every year Enzo ended up hating Cedric more. 

***

“Oh all bowtruckles in a tree! He asked you out!” Luna's eyes go wide, not believing what she had just heard. You nod and smile, leaving the classroom. “Yes, I know, crazy, right?” But your joy instantly disappears when you see Enzo approaching, his soft demeanour changing with every step he takes. Enzo was the best, but every year you noticed how he got more and more annoyed with guys showing interest in you. He also had made it very clear that nothing would ever happen between you two because bro code and stuff. Honestly, the most ridiculous thing ever, especially since your brother had the hottest friends ever. Right now, you were seriously getting annoyed with Enzo, what did he expect of you, to stay single forever? Not happening. “Who asked who out?” Enzo forces a smile as his eyes move between you and Luna. You sigh. “Cedric asked me out.” You say, bracing yourself for whatever irrational argument Enzo was gonna throw at you. “Ah, yes, that ‘good’ friend of yours that I’ve been warning you about since forever. I told you that guy is only after one thing-” You make eye contact with Luna and raise your eyebrows, before interrupting Enzo. Leaning a bit his way you whisper: “Well, I hope so, because honestly Enz, I’m only after one thing as well.” Your voice sounds bittersweet to Enzo and he watches you and Luna walk away giggling. He clenches his jaw as he considers his options. Talk reason into you, impossible. Punch reason into Cedric, not my style. Or be a tattletale and spill the news to your brother...

***

“She’s going on a date with Digory!” Enzo yells as soon as he enters the slytherin common room and spots Theodore. Theo looks up to see a fuming Enzo approach. “You should do something.” Enzo says, calming down a bit, but also annoyed by the lack of response from Theo. “Like what?” Theodore asks eyebrows knitting together as he folds the newspaper he was reading before Enzo stormed in. “Tell her not to go. The guy’s bad news.” Theodore lazily stares at Enzo. “The guy’s a Hufflepuff, he’s barely news, let alone bad news. And tell her not to go… You obviously don’t know much about siblings, but let me tell you this: they don’t listen.” 

“What! You’re just gonna let her?” Theodore was getting a little frustrated with Enzo’s tone and Mattheo could barely keep himself from laughing at seeing Enzo so upset. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t date Mattheo I’m good with it.” Theo says with a bit of a sterner voice and Mattheo frowns feeling offended a second time today, but Enzo’s clearly angry with Theo and shakes his head. “You rather have her date someone like Cedric than one of your friends?!” There’s silence but Enzo’s just so terrified of you going out and falling in love with someone while he’s left pining, that all his feelings boil over into anger. “What kind of a shit brother are you!”  At those words Theodore gets up in a second, almost pressing his head against Enzo’s to make sure Enzo gets the message. “I’m not a shit brother and I never said that I'd rather have her date Cedric than one of my friends, just not Mattheo but trust me Berkshire if you keep this crap up then you’ll be out of my sister’s life in no time.”

Enzo’s so angry that he can barely process what Theodore is saying, but he’s sane enough to walk away and not pick a fight with his friend and the brother of the girl’s crushing on. 

“Why always use me as the definition of trouble?” Mattheo complains, making Theodore roll his eyes. “Cause you are, I just hoped we had at least one sane friend in our group, but apparently Enzo’s just as dysfunctional as the rest of us.” Theodore sighs, unclenching his fists and sitting back down.

 ***

You leave your classroom to find a shaky Enzo pacing the hallway. When he spots you he immediately walks over to you and you can see the nervousness in his eyes. “What's wrong?” You ask as his hand firmly wraps around your arm. “We need to talk. Now.” His voice is urgent and his eyes avoid yours. “Enzo calm-” “No, it’s important.” Enzo snaps at you and pushes a door open, shoving you into a broom closet. “You can’t go out with him.” Enzo states as soon as he closes the door behind him. There’s a dim light that lights his pained face just enough for you to see. “Enzo-” Your voice is soothing, but Enzo’s too afraid of what you’ll say so he continues to rant. “It physically hurts when I think of you being with someone else, loving someone else. So just, I beg you, just don’t go out with him.” He sighs and moves a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I almost had a fight with your brother, because I’m freaking out and I’m freaking out because I know Cedric is a good guy and you like him and you’ll love him and forget about me and I- I-.”

You grab his face and place an urgent kiss on his lips, hoping you’ll keep Enzo from spiralling any further, but to your surprise he suddenly spirals into a whole different direction. Eagerly kissing back, one hand finding the small of your back as he takes a step towards you pushing you against the wall of the small closet you’re in. “I need you.” Enzo breathes lips only inches away from yours and his eyes piercing you, silently begging you to let him love you. “Let me have you.” His husky hungry voices make your knees go weak. “Have me, Enz.” You whisper, meeting his lips with an equal amount of hunger. What took you so long. He kisses you until you're out of breath then he leaves sloppy kisses on your jaw, before sucking at the flesh of your neck like you taste divine to him. His hands lustfully trace every inch of your body, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass. “I’ll make you love me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the sound of his determined voice. Not that you needed him to do anything, you had already fallen for him before he had even seen you as someone more than just Theo’s sister. However, you were more than enjoying Enzo working for your love. 

***

You straighten your skirt and do your best to comb your hair with your fingers to look as decent as possible after what Enzo had just done to you in that tiny closet. “You look fine.” Enzo ensures smiling at you adoring your beauty as you stand there nervously watching if anyone has seen you two leave the broom closet. You force a weak smile and Enzo can’t help but get nervous as well. Though not about getting caught with you, but about whether or not he had convinced you to not go out with Cedric. Even having you moan and cry his name wasn’t enough to reassure him that you were his. He needed to know. “Are you still going out with him?” Enzo blurs and your eyes meet his. Is he for real? “Was this really all because Cedric asked me out?” Enzo shrugs, a bit embarrassed about how he had acted. A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “Really Lorenzo Berkshire you got jealous?” His hands sink into his pockets and he stares at the floor, thinking of a good response. “I’m your brother’s best friend, I’m allowed to be jealous.” 

You frown at his silly excuse. “Pretty sure Matt’s my brother's best friend and even if you were that’s not an excuse at all. Neither does it excuse what you just did to me in that closet.” Enzo takes a step closer to you and meets your eyes. “What do you want me to say?” Your eyes drown in his. “The truth Enz.”

He takes a deep breath, before confessing. “I’m so incredibly jealous, because I’m in love with you.” A happy smile tugs on your lips and Enzo’s delighted at how happy you are with his confession.

“You know… I never said yes to Cedric.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops. “What?” A sweet laugh escapes you at the view of his shocked face. “I only ever said that he asked… I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because I’m in love with you.” Within a split second Enzo’s lips crash onto yours. You had just made this man the happiest in all of Hogwarts.

Word count: 1771

Picture link: https://pin.it/2LVDPbwNS

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

[suppotato123]

So, I’ve noticed that when we design an alien species that’s supposed to be sapient we tend to make them look like us, and I don’t mean in the typical “why in the world does this people on an entirely different planet of a completely different species with its own unique evolutionary history have a very primate/human-like body plan???” Kind of way. I’ve noticed that even when we make sapient species that look nothing like us and have a completely different body plan, we still give them the same or similar facial expressions and body language to ourselves. I find this really interesting because facial expressions are not across the board for all species (or all humans for that matter). Take, for example, the smile, a common friendly greeting among humans that communicates happiness, contentment, humor, and a lack of hostility, etc. However, for most animals, bearing teeth is a sign of unease or even open hostility. Its a threat that, “I have teeth and I’m willing to use them to protect myself!” Or take cats who, to the human eye, look relatively apathetic or sometimes even slightly annoyed when they are actually completely content. As I mentioned before, even human expression is more complicated than a set of particular facial expressions that only communicate one type of emotion.

Take a good look at this picture. What Emotion is this woman feeling?

Did you say pain? Loss? Anger?

If you did you’d be incorrect.

This is a picture of Sofia Kenin after winning a point in the first round of a Women’s singles match.

With the full context, it’s clear that she’s feeling elation, or excitement.

This is in no way meant to criticize artists for making their characters with distinctly human expressions. I understand that, especially in visual media, these sorts of expressions are really important to communicating the character’s inner world with the audience. I just find it super fascinating, and I think that it says something about us as a species that we look for and insert bits of ourselves in everything around us. So, yeah. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

#ted talks #actually adhd #adhd #xenobiology #speculative biology #world building #alien #aliens #sapient #art #philosophy #psychology #interesting #unreality #emotions #body language #communication #alien character #speculative worldbuilding #speculative evolution #speculative anatomy #writers of tumblr #writing #writerscommunity #writblr #nerd #conworld #tv #comic books #movies

[fortune-fool02]

Sweet-Talker

Luis Serra x female reader

Summary: Luis was always the one giving the smooth-talk, making almost anyone blush, but he was rarely on the receiving end. [Name] wanted to change that.

Warning: No spoiler for RE 4 remake. Fluff.

Due to people seeming to like the idea, I decided to give this a go! 

Thank you for reading! Please enjoy!

Bullets shot through the air, piercing through the heads of the infected villagers, buying the group a few seconds to breathe before heading towards a secure location. The cabin Luis suggested wasn’t too far and offered protection and warmth. That was more than enough to encourage them to move. 

“Leon! Watch it!” Luis shouted out, a smile on his face as he ducked out of the way of Leon’s bolts flying through the air and burying themselves into the villager’s head. Ashley all but clung to [Name]’s side, as she was told to, while [Name] opened fire, standing her ground. 

“There’s so damn many!” Irritation chewed at her, they had to hurry up else they would run out of ammunition. She pulled the hand grenade from her beltloop, shouting for Leon and Luis to move as she pulled the pin and launched it into the crowd. The explosion of blood, body parts and bits of shrapnel seemed to offer them a chance to run again as the hoard had silenced. The four of them rushed into the cabin, Leon and Luis pulling the wooden gate shut and locking it while [Name] did a quick sweep of the cabin, ensuring no threats lingered. 

Once it was confirmed safe, everyone took a breath, savouring the moment to relax and regain their strength. Leon pulled a chair out and plopped down, panting a bit as he turned and went through his inventory, checking over what supplies they had. 

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, eh?” Luis hummed, flicking his lighter between his fingers with such fluent movements. [Name]’s eyes watched the silver lighter’s movements, how Luis’ fingers twirled and spun it between each slender finger. It was impressive. He noticed her watching, a playful glint in his grey eyes. “You see something you like, [Name]?” 

She glanced up at him at that, a soft hum made as she lightly nodded. “It’s an impressive trick, Luis. I’m sure you can do many interesting things with your fingers.” The slight tone in her voice was reflected in her eyes, and Luis rose to her challenge. 

“Oh, I’m certain I can show you what else I can do with my fingers, cariño.” His smile slipped, melting into a smirk as his eyes remained locked on [Name], curious to see how far they were playing this. 

“I’m sure you can, gran chico~” Hearing his home language slip from her lips, and what she said, made a shiver rush down his spine. Heat crawling up his neck and his tongue lightly dampened his lips. 

“Eh?” He tried to think of anything to say back, anything at all, but his mind went blank. Her words repeating in his head like a broken record, allowing the heat to rise further up his neck and into his cheeks. 

“Is that blush I see, Luis?” Rising from her seat, [Name] closed the distance between them, her hand resting on his chest as her fingers lightly toyed with the zipper. Luis’ back lightly hit the wall, his mind rushing, trying to process what was happening. “Perhaps I can show you... what my fingers can do?” Her eyebrow arched a little, her eyes fallen to a half-lidded look as she gazed into his eyes, that smirk he once had now on her lips. Her fingers wrapped around the zipper lightly before pulling it up slowly and then pulling him down slightly. 

Their lips so close Luis could almost taste her. “Eh, Luis~?” The pounding of his heart was loud in his ears, making the heat in his face that much more warmer, and that shiver stronger. Lusty thought attempted to form in his head, only encouraged further by [Name]’s words and actions. 

A word couldn't leave his lips before she pulled back, his body suddenly going cold from the lack of closeness. So much so, he almost reached out in protest. Almost. 

“Uh.... sounds good?” was all he was able to get out. An annoyed groan shattered their little moment as Leon finished reloading his guns. 

“Get a room, you two.” 

#luis sera #luis serra #luis sera x reader #luis serra x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4 #re4 remake

[smuttyworks]

Control - Mattheo Riddle smut

Sub!Mattheo as requested! I'm not the best at female Dom but I tried my best lolllll

warnings: explicit smut, yaaa

summary: Mattheo had been fucking with reader for weeks, making jokes about fucking her, flirting with her, and being handsy thinking she would eventually give in to him, but she takes it into her own hands as she waits for him in the darkness of his room.

-

You could feel his eyes on you as they chuckled to themselves behind your desk, causing you to roll your eyes. Mattheo and the other Slytherin idiots have been constantly fucking with you the past few weeks, with Mattheo being the one who did it the most.

You could feel him behind you as he inched closer to your ear, “Let me show you what you’re missing, babe.” You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting, instead you looked back down at your notes. “You’ll give into me soon.” You could practically hear him smirk as he whispered in your ear.

When class ended you stood up and made your way out of the class and into the corridor, just wanting to get back to your room and study more, but you felt an arm slip around your waist, pulling you close as he directed you down another hallway, “Leave me alone, Riddle.” You said, annoyance clear in your voice.

“Why do you fight me so hard, (Y/n), I know you want me.” he said with his arms caging you in, your back against the wall.

“I don’t want you; you are annoying as fuck and I can’t wait for you to move onto your next unlucky target and leave me alone.” You stated blankly, now ducking under his arms and returning to the corridor and making your way towards your room.

When you finally got there you stripped into your pajamas and pulled your book close as you went over your notes.

After a while your mind started to wander to the annoying brown eyed boy, he always seemed to think he could get whatever he wanted, including girls who always seemed to accept his attention even though he was never interested in them afterwards, his confidence was too high, and someone needed to bring it back down and show him he doesn’t always get what he wants.

And idea popped into your head as your eyes landed on the top drawer of your dresser, and you decided to show him not to fuck with you again.

-

You slipped into his empty dorm room and leaned behind the door, knowing he would be coming in soon.

Your eyes traveled around the dark room that was only slightly lit from the moon shining through the window. His bed wasn’t made, and he had some laundry kicked into a corner, but it was suiting to who occupied the room.

A smirk appeared on you as the doorknob wiggled before opening. You watched Mattheo as he entered the room, walking over to his bed and dropping his bag. “Lumos,” he muttered as he lit the candle on his bedside table.

He turned around as he reached the bottom of his shirt, about to lift it until he noticed you, “Holy fuck!” he said, shock covering his face, “(Y/n) what are you doing here?!” 

You bit your lip as you took a step forward, dropping your robe and exposing your clothes beneath it, or better yet lack of clothes. His lips parted slightly as he took in the red lingerie you wore. “Holy fuck…” he swallowed, taking a step closer and reaching out to touch you, but you slapped his hand away.

“You don’t touch unless you have been told you can.” You stated, emotionless as you watched him closely. His eyes wide in shock, his hands shaky, and the growing bulge in his pants. “Do you understand?” you tilted your head slightly.

He nodded, “Okay.” He gulped

“On your knees Mattheo.” He looked at you strangely, not knowing what exactly was going on. “Now.” You said through gritted teeth.

He didn’t say a word as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his eyes watching your every move. You stood above him and loosely ran your fingers through his brown curls, his eyes closing from the sensation. “You’ve been fucking with me for too long, Mattheo.” You stated softly, your fingers lightly brushing over the skin of his cheek as he took in your touch. “That ends now.”

Your other hand ran down your stomach and over the thin lace material of your panties. Your fingers touching your folds over the fabric as he watched intensely, his tongue wetting his lips as he wanted to taste you so badly.

You moaned out quietly as your fingers pressed down on your clit, “Please let me touch you.” He breathed, his hands in fists on his thighs.

You shook your head, “No.” before slipping your panties down your legs, exposing your soaking heat to him as he groaned at the sight, whispering profanities to himself. “I’m already so wet,” you laughed softly to yourself, dipping your finger into your folds and feeling your arousal soak your finger. You could see Mattheo’s breathing quicken as he watched your fingers touch yourself inches away from his face.

You rubbed your wetness over your clit, moaning softly as you played with yourself. 

He reached out and slid his large hand up the side of your leg and you immediately slapped it away, shaking your head at the desperate boy. “Please,” he pleaded.

“No touching unless told to.” You demanded, and his eyes dropped down to your soaking pussy as he watched desperately. 

You teased your entrance lightly as you lifted your leg up and rested your thigh on his shoulder to give yourself easier access. He groaned out as he watched you slip your fingers into your tight core, slipping them in and out slowly as your arousal dripped down your fingers.

You bit your lip as you removed your soaking fingers, “Open.” You demanded, and his lips parted, ready to taste your delicious juices. You brought your fingers to his lips and he instantly took them in his mouth, his tongue wrapping around your digits as he licked up every bit of you.

You removed them from his mouth and smirked down at him, satisfied with how you had him wrapped around your finger. “Lick my pussy, Mattheo.”

That was all he needed to hear before his lips were attached to you, his tongue flicking softly against your clit, his hand gripped the side of your thigh that was resting on his shoulder to keep you steady and pull you closer to him.

His skillful tongue worked wonders on your cunt as he switched from fucking your entrance with his tongue to circling around your sensitive clit causing you to moan out and grip his hair.

“Don’t stop until I cum all over your face.” You moaned out, loving the feeling of his annoying mouth finally shutting up as he ate you out, licking all your juices desperately.

You didn’t think he would be so good, but your orgasm crept closer and closer, him enjoying all the pleasure he was giving you before slipping his other hand up and sliding two fingers into you, making you cry out at the sensation. “Fuck,” you cried as he brought you closer, the warm feeling filling your abdomen.

He fucked you relentlessly with his long fingers as he sucked your clit, pushing you over the edge and succumbing to your strong orgasm, your cries filling the room as he desperately licked up your juices.

You looked down at him and gave him a smile, “Good boy…” you breathed, “now get up and take your clothes off.” You ordered.

He lifted your leg up softly as you balanced on your shaky legs before standing up in front of you and quickly stripping himself from all of his clothes, leaving him completely naked in front of you, his dick painfully hard.

“You did good, Mattheo.” You smiled at him, lightly caressing his cheek, then dragging your finger tips down his jaw and neck, down his chest and over the hair of his happy trail, taking in how sexy he was, his v lines prominent and leading to his rock hard erection. “You think you deserve a reward?” you questioned, your fingers running over the length of his dick, his eyes fluttering at your soft touch. He quickly nodded and sucked in as you gripped his dick, stroking him at a fast pace, watching his expression as he moaned out, whispering profanities. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked, but it sounded more like begging.

You nodded and his hand gripped your waist tightly and his other hand cupped the side of your jaw, his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek.

You rubbed the tip of his dick with your other hand as you continuously stroked him, then brought your fingers to your lips, tasting his delicious pre cum, his eyes watching you, his lips parting as he watched you taste him, turning him on even more.

“I’m so close,” he whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed as he felt his orgasm creep close.

You smirked as you pulled your hand away, watching him as he whimpered, begging you to let him cum. “Not until I tell you, Riddle.” His breathing was fast as he watched you desperately, wondering what your next moves were.

You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor before backing up into his dresser, lifting yourself onto it and spreading your legs, watching as his eyes dropped to your core, taking in how beautiful you were. “I want you to fuck me, and do not cum until I tell you to.” You ordered and watched as he closed the space between you both, his lips forcedly crashing to yours, and you decided to let him.

Mattheo wasted no time as he positioned himself at your entrance before quickly pushing himself into you, your moans filled his mouth as he gripped your hips tightly, pounding into you relentlessly.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples between his fingers softly.

Your eyes dropped down to watch as his dick disappeared into your cunt, your juices coating him every time he pulled out. “You like seeing me fuck you?” he cooed, pressing kisses to your jaw tenderly.

“Yes,” you cried, holding onto his arm to keep yourself steady, your second orgasm coming in hot as Mattheo fucked you better than you’d ever been fucked in your life. “I’m gunna cum…” you breathed, holding him tightly as you felt the pleasure wave through your body like shock waves, crying out as his thrusts got sloppy, “Cum, Mattheo,” you whimpered, your body succumbing to your much stronger orgasm, as his hips met yours, his body tensing as he came to his own orgasm.

Both your moans mixing as he filled you with cum as your walls clenched around him tightly.

“Fuck, (Y/n)” he breathed against the crook of your neck, you both taking a moment as you came down from your highs. 

Once you could catch your breath, you pushed him lightly away from and pushing yourself off the dresser, reaching down to collect your robe, wrapping it around you and reaching down for your bra and panties. 

His hand wrapped around yours as he pulled you to him, “I’m sorry for messing with you,” he looked down at you. 

You rolled your eyes, “you can keep these,“ you smirked, placing your panties in his other hand. “Fuck with me again and you’ll never get me again.” Your finger ran down his chest, nail dragging over his skin causing his breath to hitch.

“I promise.” He smiled, then pressing his lips to yours.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheoriddle #hp smut #Sub!matheo #dom!reader #harry potter fandom #benjamin wadsworth #harry potter smut

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

I am in love with recent luffy smut omg that was amazing. Is it possible if I can request a usopp smut, please. I’ll leave the topic in your hands, bc I trust u✨

Usopp X Reader: Shoot your shot

I don't have Usopp's mannerisms down as much as Luffy's so i hope i did him justice. Enjoy! ❤️

Warning: smut, fingering, penetration (p in v), nipple sucking, kissing, dirty talk, soft sex, fluff, making out.

Word Count: 2,5 K

"Bet you won't do it."

Usopp's head snaps up from his drink, his eyes moving to glance at Zoro. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on man, you've been staring all night."

A small blush creeped into Usopp's cheeks at the sword masters words. Was it really that obvious? Usopp's eyes made their way back to you watching as you danced with Nami. You were smiling wide as you swayed to the music. The sight made Usopp's heart skip a beat. The sharpshooter had always had a small crush on you but he never acted on his feelings, far too scared to do something and risk your friendship. Despite his lack of action it was pretty clear he had a thing for you. Anyone who paid the smallest bit of attention could see it. You were the only one who didn’t seem to notice it.

Not that it was your fault. You weren’t used to guys beating around the bush. When someone was interested in you they made it quite clear. It annoyed you a bit but it also made things easier. You weren’t exactly great with feelings, especially not romantic ones. You’d never really felt desire for anyone, far too preoccupied with staying alive to care about something like love. Yet since you joined the strawhats you found yourself being drawn to Usopp. You liked listening to his fantastical tales, even if they weren’t true it made you feel a sense of adventure. It was why you’d joined the crew in the first place. You’d gotten sick of waiting tables as the baratie and decided to tag along with Sanji. You hadn't planned on sticking around for long but the longer you stayed with the crew the less you saw yourself leaving. 

Your eyes scan the crowd around you, searching for your friends. Luffy is sitting at a table scarfing down the third plate of the evening, Sanji is off to the side of the bar flirting with some blonde he'd met, Zoro was leaning over the counter talking to the bartender, Usopp stood beside Zoro. You smiled at the boy, gesturing with your hand for him to join you. Usopp raised his glass towards you, silently telling you he couldn't join you because of the drink in his hand. Zoro noticed the exchange, reaching over and grabbing Usopp's drink from his hand before gulping it down.

"What the hell Zoro!"

"Stop making excuses and go over there.”

You watched Zoro shove Usopp in your direction. The sharpshooter stumbled forward, not having been prepared for the sudden movement. You let out a laugh, turning to tell Nami about it. Except that she was nowhere to be found. Oh well she can handle herself. Usopp shuffled his way through the crowd making his way to you. Once he was close enough you grabbed his hand and tugged him over. 

"Hey."

“Hi, quite the trip you’ve had.”

“Did you see the monster I had to fight on my way over?”

You shook your head slightly giggling at the boy's exaggerations.

“You're very brave Usopp. Thanks for coming to save me.”

“You’re welcome princess.”

Your body warmed at the nickname. How could something so small get such a reaction out of you? Usopp seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, his hands going to rest on your arms.

“You okay?”

“Yeah i’m fine i just-”

Music started to blare, making you stop in your tracks. Your eyes widened at the familiar sound.

“Oh my god! I love this song! Dance with me Usopp.”

“Oh I'm not really the danci-woah!”

Before he could give you some lame excuse you dragged him into the center of the dance floor, a bright smile on your face. You started moving to the rhythm of the music, closing your eyes as you did. Usopp observed you in awe. The way your body swayed to the beat, face completely blissed out, made his body twitch. You looked like an angel. You snapped your eyes open feeling the weight of Usopp's gaze on you.

“This is a dance floor that means you have to, you know, dance!”

“I’m not a good dancer.”

“So what? No ones looking anyway.”

That was true. Everyone around you was far too into their own thing to care about you and Usopp but it didn’t really calm him. You were watching and that was enough to make him nervous.

“Here I'll help you out.”

You took his hands into your own, placing them on your hips. Usopp's fingers twitched around your waist, his arms stiff as he waited for your next move.

“Jes Usopp, loosen up! I won’t bite.”

Usopp gave you a sideways smile, his body relaxing a bit at your words.

“There you go. Much better.”

You started moving side to side slowly, allowing Usopp to get used to the motion before quickening your movements. He seemed to catch on pretty quickly, his body following the flow of the music in a matter of seconds.

“See you’re a natural!”

“Nah, I just have a good teacher.”

You smiled, biting the corner of your lip. Usopp's eyes dropped to your mouth for a brief second before moving to stare at the place where his hands rested on your body. You followed his gaze, staring at the muscles on his arms. The small amount of liquor in your system was making you bolder than normal. You inched yourself closer to Usopp, your hands resting on his chest. He raised his head to look at you, his lips parting slightly. The song changed suddenly, switching to a more sensual rhythm. You’d have to remember to leave the DJ a tip when you left. You turned your body around so that your back was pressed up against Usopp's chest.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Shh, just go with it.”

Your hips moved with the music, slow and steady, causing you to grind against the sharpshooter. You heard Usopp take a deep breath in, the grip on your waist tightening. He called out your name, making you turn your head to look at him. 

“What is it?”

You knew exactly what you were doing. You'd wanted this for a while now but had never found a good time. I mean what better place to seduce someone than at a bar? Usopp lowered his mouth to your ear, his hot breath fanning over your bare skin.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

“Lead the way Captain Usopp.”

As soon as you arrived on the ship Usopp's hands were on you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you as close as possible before capturing your mouth in his. You’d expected Usopp to be sweet and gentle when it came to stuff like this but there was a hunger in him you hadn't seen before. It’s safe to say you enjoyed it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, using his body as leverage to lift your body up. Usopp understood what you wanted, his strong arms moving to cup your thighs so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. You groaned at the feeling of his hard on against your clothed cunt.

“Usopp…”

“Yeah princess, what do you want?”

“Too much clothing. Take it off.”

Usopp walked over to a nearby table placing you on top of it before moving back to remove his clothes. He started off with his shirt unbuttoning it to reveal the taut muscles underneath. You practically drooled at the sight. You’d become used to seeing the other boys on the crew shirtless but you often forget that beneath his clothes Usopp hid a great physic. You placed your hands between your thighs leaning forward on the table to get a better look. The position of your arms caused your breasts to be squashed together, the low cut top you were wearing doing nothing to hide them. Ussops stopped moving at the sight, the hand that had been working on his shirt stopping in mid air. You frowned at him for a moment before realizing what he was staring at. A small smirk made its way onto your face, body leaning even farther forward.

“Like what you see?”

Usopp moved forward with his hands outstretched.

“Can i?”

He looked up at you shyly.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Can I touch them?”

“Of course you can, darling.”

That was all he needed. Usopp's large hands found  their way to your breasts, cupping them gently. He gave them a squeeze making you moan out. The sound of your moans drove Usopp crazy. He repeated his actions, his dick aching against his pants as you whimpered his name. He pulled down your top in one harsh tug, lowering his head so that he could suck on your nipples. You placed your hands behind you, allowing Usopp easier access to your breasts. He pushed your body backwards forcing you to lay down on the table. Your legs widened instinctively, allowing the sharpshooter to slot himself between them with ease. He grinded against you as he sucked your nipples, his hands massaging your stomach gently.

“So pretty for me.”

“For you huh?”

“I uh- i mean not for me… i don’t own you or anything i just meant-”

“Usopp.”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and make me feel good.”

“Yeah okay.”

Usopp's hands moved down to your clothed cunt tugging your shorts down before throwing them over his shoulder. You started to laugh but it quickly turned into a moan when Usopp began playing with your folds. You grind your hips against his fingers reveling in the feeling of his hands on you.

“That's it-uh- good boy.”

Ussop groaned at your praise, his free hand going to tug at his crotch. You noticed his movements moving to lean on your shoulders.

“I thought I told you to take those off.”

Usopp looked down at you and then at his pants. 

“How are you expecting to fuck me with your pants on.”

You grinned as you said the words, enjoying the pant you got out of the boy. 

“Can you help me?”

“Of course baby.”

You moved to sit up, your hands finding Usopp's belt and beginning to relieve him of his bottoms. Usopp kept fingering you as you worked on his clothes, his face dropping to your neck so he could leave a trail of kisses down your shoulder blade. Once you managed to unbutton Usopp's pants you reached into his boxers and cupped his dick in your hand. 

“Ah princess…”

“Feel good?”

“Yeah-fuck-so good.”

“Wait until you’re inside me.”

Your words seemed to make everything real. Usopp had dreamt about this moment so many times. He’d woken up in the morning, his boxers stiff with his cum and his body itching for the feeling of you. And now here he was: your hands wrapped around his dick as he got you off with his fingers. Your walls clenched around Usopp's fingers signaling to him that you were close. If that wasn’t enough your random babbling made it very clear. 

“Baby… I'm close.”

“Cum for me princess. Coat me with it.”

“You talk about it lik-ugh ah-like its a…uh…gift.”

“Because it is. Anything you give me is a gift.”

The moment Usopp's words entered your ears you started cumming. Your body went limp falling onto Usopps as you soaked his finger in your juices. He held you close, helping you through your high. Once you’d recovered your motor functions you moved to tug on Ussops chin, placing a kiss on his lips before laying back down on the table.

“Your turn, pretty boy.”

You widen your legs allowing Usopp to have a clear view of you pussy. It was puffy from your last orgasm. You motioned with your index finger for Usopp to come closer and like the good boy he was he did as you asked. You watched him free his cock from its confines, gasping at the sight of it. It wasn’t an abnormal size but it was thick. Your walls fluttered at the idea of being filled again. Usopp's hands were gentle against you as he moved your legs off the table and onto his shoulders. You smiled gently at him causing him to give you his signature smirk.

“Should I put something on?”

“No it’s okay I'm on birth control. Fill me up all you like.”

You expected Usopp to ram into you. You’d been teasing him all night after all. But he didn’t. instead he sunk into you slowly, savoring the feeling of you around him.

“Shit Usopp….”

“Fuck you’re warm.”

Usopp leaned forward, tugging your body off the table so that he could wrap his arms around you. He moved slowly, softly fucking into you. It was tender and loving. His lips found your  face and he placed a kiss on your nose. You weren’t used to this. Most of your hookups had been just that. Hookups. Just meaningless sex. But this was different. This was real. You began to tear up, your eyes glossing over. The second Usopp noticed he stopped moving.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

He began pulling out of you but you called out his name before he could.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.  I’m just not used to being treated like this. This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Usopp cursed at your words. What kind of idiots had you been hooking up with before. What fools would get the opportunity to be with you like this and not treat you the way you deserved. He promised himself he would show you what it felt like to be loved. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, removing the sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m gonna go a little faster okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tell me if you want to stop. 

“Usopp you don’t have to-”

“Promise me.”

You stared into his eyes, the eyes of a boy who’d been through so much pain and still found a way to be kind. A boy you were now releasing meant much more to you than you had expected.

“I promise.”

You spent the rest of the night pressed against Usopp's body, his hands working to bring you to places you’d never been before. When you woke up the next morning you found your body cuddled into Usopp's, his arms holding you close like he was scared of you drifting away in your sleep. You turned your body around nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Morning princes.”

“Morning Usopp.”

“Wanna get up?”

“No, let's just stay here a little longer.” “Whatever you want.”

If it was up to you you’d stay in Usopp's arms forever. Lucky for you he shared the sentiment.

#one piece fandom #one piece #one piece zoro #one piece smut #one piece usopp #god usopp #usopp x reader #usopp x you #usopp #opla smut #opla #opla fanfiction #smut fanfiction #smut #one piece live action #op live action #strawhat pirates

[nyxthejinx]

Hello! How’s your day/night going?

May I request a drabble of Diluc with an g/n s/o that haves fox’s ears? Like Miko but it’s pointing upwards not down. And their ear’s go with their emotions ;

Happy = go straight up

Sad = slowly go downwards

shy/embarrassed = go downwards really fast

If not that’s completely fine! Have the good rest of your day/night!

Archons-know-how-many-months-later, my night's going pretty well, sleep deprivation aside. I'm sorry it took so long, but it was an interesting prompt to go with. I'm not fully satisfied with how it came out, but I hope you'll like it anyways <3

𝐓𝐖: Nothing but fluff, one kiss. It's a misunderstanding but comical.

𝐅𝐭.: Diluc - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Hanging With the Boys - OMORI

Diluc has always been secretly fascinated by your ears.

He never really brought up the topic or pointed out anything, fearing it would make him sound rude and you feel uncomfortable. And yet still to this day he founds endearing the way you show emotions through them.

On most days they'd be staying up proudly, paired with one of your unresistable smiles, while on some occations he'd seen them bend like a withered flowers, pulled downwards just like your lips in a sign of sadness.

But his favourite has to be without a doubt the sight of them flattening in a heartbeat, as you poorly hide that clumsy shyness he's grown so fond of.

What Diluc doesn't like, though, are those days when they're leaned backwards, forming a sharp 90 degrees angle with the back of your head. Days when you're upset, annoyed at something and/or someone.

Days when he automatically returns on his footsteps and tries to figure out whether it was his fault or not.

Today is one of those days.

It had started in the morning, with you marching down the corridor and completely ignoring the open door of his office. Being with his nose buried in paperwork, Diluc didn't exactly notice the lack of usual "have a good day" kiss. It was Adelinde who pointed out your strange behaviour and rang the bells in the back of his mind.

But why? He'd come home earlier yesterday, cuddled on the bed while you read your book, had a nice dinner together and slept with you in his arms. You'd kept your ears pointed all the way up the entire time!

Was someone bothering you? Did he subconsciously annoy you? Were you feeling unwell? Should he call a doctor?

"Please, calm down, master Diluc," Adelinde sighs, as she dusts the libraries in his office. "If they were in any pain they'd voice their discomfort. Master [Name] knows how concerned you get over their wellbeing."

Diluc, on the other hand, is having none of it. "I wouldn't know, Adelinde." He sinks in his chair, a frown etched on his forehead. "We're both well aware of their stubborness."

"You ought talk to them, then." She says. "Communication is the key."

Communication is the key.

Well, it is either the key for peace or chaos, Diluc thinks, an idea that's surely bound to fail popping up in his mind.

Candles? Lit. Table? Set. Dinner made by the man himself? Ready to help you ease the mood, it's your favourite after all.

It took him the rest of the evening to lay everything out for when you'd be back. It's a bit old fashioned, nothing too special, just like he is, but he knows you like it exactly this way.

Adelinde actually shook her head at the length he was going for this whole ordeal. But anyways-

Diluc stands by the window, waiting for any sign of your arrival. He focuses on his dull reflection, checks the outfit he'd chosen -casual, but still flattering in a way- and perks up upon seeing your figure approaching the manor.

He squints and- yes, your ears are still bent backwards, but not completely: more like a perturbed neutrality.

Well, make or break.

The door clicks open and he hears you shuffling around.

"Welcome back, Love." He makes his way to the entrance, hoping to look natural in his movements. When in reality he's a nervous wreck. "Let me help you with that."

Diluc gives you a small smile, makes quick work of your jacket, hanging it to the rack and subtly pushing you towards the decorated table. He doesn't give you time to ask any question, nor elaborate your confusion and stupor, as he accompanies you by the small of your back.

"How was your day?" He questions. Meanwhile he's already moved the chair, waiting for you to sit.

"Uh, fine, I guess?" You don't hide your hesitancy, as you lower yourself on the cushioned seat with a quirked brow. "What about you- this," You gesture around yourself, then towards Diluc. "What's the occasion?"

Diluc pushes you into position. He clears his throat, hands stilling on the seat back. "You seemed... Off, earlier this morning, Love. I was hoping a nice dinner would ease your mind."

"I prepared your favourite." And with that he slinks away. Or at least tries to.

You're quick to latch your fingers onto the sleeve of his shirt. "'Luc, I appreciate the thought, but I'm pretty sure there's something more going on."

You yank him gently, force him to face you fully and look at you in the eyes, when you notice that his gaze is aimed a little above yours.

"...Well?"

He stares up, back down, up again. And then he sighs. He sounds absolutely mortified. "It was my intention to have a chat about your sour mood. You appeared distressed when you left the Winery, your..." His cheeks start to gain colour. "Your ears. I've only ever seen them that way after an argument, or whenever you're upset. I was worried I enraged you unknowingly."

His free hand flies to cover the lower half of his face, as if he knows he's blushing like mad, while his eyes wander to the floor. Diluc looks like a kicked puppy, poor thing.

And suddenly you chuckle, your ears perking all the way up like usual. As if nothing at all had happened.

"'Luc, Love, I'm sorry." You smile. "I wasn't mad at you!"

"U-Uh?"

"Remember the book I was reading before bed?" You place both your hands on his biceps and get on your feet. "Well, I read the few pages I had left right this morning. And I didn't like the ending at all."

Oh. Oh.

So it was about the book.

Diluc stares at you dumbfounded. He's overheating, and he doesn't know if it's from shame, stress discharging or the incredible proximity of your bodies.

He feels your hands slide all the way up, locking behind his neck as your face inches closer and closer. A soft, yet amused smile pulling at your lips. "You're too sweet for this world."

And you peck him, quick but loving nevertheless. Take a step back and pat his chest. "You said you cooked my favourite, right? Can't wait to dig in."

And you sit once again, starting to ramble about your real day with a cozy enthusiasm he loves so much.

It takes him another ten seconds. But then he smiles, gazes at you with eyes brimming with adoration.

How he loves seeing you with your ears up.

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #genshin diluc #genshin blurbs #gn reader #blurb #drabble #genshin fluff #genshin images #diluc come home #| Genshin Impact 🌓 | #| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

[personasintro]

love ring | pjm drabble

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's time to fight for love

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boxer!jimin x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut, a little bit of angst, boxer au, friends with benefits au

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, purple haired!jimin (yes this needs a warning), slight dirty talk, oral sex (f.), biting kink, breast play, praising kink, mentions of degrading kink, unprotected sex, mirror sex, public sex, multiple orgasms, jealous!jimin

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k+

a/n: commissioned 

“Dude, just go talk to her.”

Jimin has never found his friend more annoying than in this very moment. What he thought was a subtle glaring your way turned out to be not so subtle after all, since his friend has obviously noticed it. In times like this, he regrets sharing some parts of his life with him. He obviously doesn't know everything, but he's also not stupid not to see something has happened between Jimin and you. 

The distance and ignorance is big enough of a clue and actually, Jimin can't be mad at him for noticing it.

But it's the least of his worries now, especially if he sees you standing next to him. Chatting like you've got no worries, still hanging around when you know Jimin is going to be here today. It's a little selfish and he realizes that. You used to hang out around here because of your friends. One of them actually dated Jungkook, one of his boxing partners until their relationship didn't last too long. That's how the two of you met and eventually, started something that people call friends with benefits these days.

Friends, Jimin wants to laugh bitterly at the irritating word. Yes, you were friends but things got more complicated. Just like in all those movies and books people watch and read, someone is always there to warn one of them of the obvious. But with Jimin's lifestyle and the lack of time for a relationship, he thought the relationship the two of you had was just ideal. 

And he hates to admit how badly you've gotten inside of his head. 

“You keep glaring at her and Taehyun across the whole room.” Minseok rolls his eyes and Jimin catches just the right timing, glaring at his friend instead. 

Jimin wants to argue. To tell him that Taehyun has been waiting for any chance to get you to talk to him. The kid is obviously interested in you and there were times when you would just laugh him off. Tell him that Taehyun is just a sweet guy who's nice. Sweet guy my ass, he thinks. You're just fucking clueless when it comes to this stuff obviously.

“Mind your own business.” Jimin clicks his tongue, motioning for Minseok to finish wrapping his hands so he can blow some steam off. But with your presence here, he's not sure if he can even focus.

He hates to admit how he fights back the urge to glance your way again. Are you even aware of it? His pride wants to completely ignore you, shut your presence off and act as if you're not here. But there's something stronger and he finds himself hoping to make things right with you. However the last time you spoke, the argument was pretty bad and a small part of him dies in a hope to properly talk to you. 

Both of you have said some nasty things to each other. One of them led to just completely ignoring each other off. None of you reached out to the other. 

“I don't know why you don't tell her you like her.” Minseok rolls his eyes again, causing Jimin's head to snap in his direction as his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow.

He snatches his wrapped hand away from him, massaging his knuckles as he takes the boxer gloves and throws a nasty glare across his shoulder. 

“What do you know about that?” He tries to snicker, quickly averting his gaze away.

Jimin has never been a person to share private things with others, well there might be one person. But she's currently unavailable apparently. So he feels a little embarrassed that Minseok, who doesn't know too many details but enough to not get lost, sees right through him. It has something to do with pride as well. He doesn't let people get too close – not even his friends. Except for one person.

“Come on, it's obvious!” Minseok exclaims a little too loud, catching some prying eyes.

“Keep your voice down.” Jimin warns him through clenched teeth. 

“You're gonna lose her if you don't tell her. What exactly is your plan? To keep fucking her? We both know that's not enough.”

One of the common stereotypes people have about boxers is that every one of them has to have anger issues. Or either can't control themselves or love to fight. But boxing is more than that. You know all about it because you often had deep conversations with him about this specific topic. You could always tell how much boxing means to Jimin. 

He doesn't have anger issues, though it's a great way to get some steam off or distract himself whenever it's needed. But god help him, he tries really bad to not strike at Minseok. His hands clench in the boxing gloves. 

“Fuck off.” he says simply and sternly, ending the conversation here as he gets into the ring.

“Jimin-ah!” 

Jimin turns and is met with a familiar wide and bunny smile. 

“Gonna do some sparring with me?” he asks, already getting into the ring with his boxing gloves. “Everyone's too afraid.” 

Jimin lifts the corner of his lips, “Luckily for you, I'm not afraid of you at all.”

“Yeah? You should be,” Jungkook says teasingly, both of them getting into the right position. “Bring it on, Park.”

“Oh, I will.” he promises.

Zoning out everything around him, he focuses on Jungkook's movements and skills. He will deal with you later.

You knew coming here won't be a good idea. You knew he's going to be here and you will suffer, seeing him again but this time in the distance. Not wanting to admit it to anyone else, you miss him. Fuck, you fucking miss him. 

It feels weird to be back here, not having him around or seeing his teasing smile and wink he would always send your direction. You miss watching him training or doing actual fights. You miss being his number one fan and feel proud every time he's finished, and you're the first person he searches for.

Oh fuck, you feel like crying and you've barely been here for an hour. The moment your eyes spotted his beautiful purple-pinkish hair, you wanted to run into his arms. To smell his incredible scent again. To kiss those big lips of his.

With his current hair color, he's like a big sign you just can't ignore. What was a bet he lost to some of his friends turned out to make him distinctive. But you love it. As much as you loved his black hair, he looks mesmerizing in the soft bright color and he definitely pulled it off. You love it. 

And you wonder if you're ever going to see him again and his hair will be a different color. Not that you would mind. He looks amazing in any color you've seen him in so far. You just want to be a part of it. Be there and ask him what made him change it. It sounds pathetic. But your heart is yearning for him, and you're not sure if that's easy or even possible. 

Taehyun has been making you company ever since you arrived, your friends abandoning you shortly after they saw you talking to him to admire shirtless men. You can't blame them. The room full of testosterone is like a spell to some women. Seeing them flashing off their muscles and abs while playing one of the hottest sports – in conclusion, it's hot and you're not mad at them. But your eyes are reserved for one person only – and he's been ignoring you. He surely knows about your presence.

“I can't help but notice,” Taehyun starts carefully, eyeing you sideways as you try to block out Jimin's laugh. 

He's currently sparring with Jungkook. That much you noticed while trying to steal a glance. You have no idea why you keep torturing yourself like this. You should've stayed home. Your friends wanted you to come anyways and your stupid self missed Jimin that you didn't need any convincing. Actually, you're sure one of your friends told you it's okay if you don't want to go. But you being stubborn and too desperate to at least see him, declined her offer of going elsewhere. 

“Are you and Jimin okay?” 

As much as you and Jimin tried to be private about the thing you had going on, you weren't exactly secretive with the extra affection. You and Jimin have been friends. Always talked and messed around. But surely people noticed you had something going on. Or maybe it was your chemistry, as some of Jimin's and your friends have pointed out. You didn't care back then. 

All you could focus on was you and him. 

But now, you wish nobody would know. You've noticed the glances some of the men gave you – mostly the ones who are aware of your and Jimin's closeness. Though they don't know any details, they're not stupid to not know there's something intimate going on between you and one of their best fighters. 

“Why would you ask me that?” you ask, eyes widened as you meet Taehyun's shocked expression that soon turns to be apologetic. 

“I'm sorry,” he blurts out an apology immediately. “I just noticed you guys didn't even look at each other which is very rare and you, um well, you seem sad. Fuck, sorry. It's none of my business. I'm just worried about you.”

“I'm fine.” you answer curtly.

Taehyun is a sweet guy. He really is and has always been super friendly. He doesn't want to get into your pants like Jimin always initiates. Taehyun is one of the youngest fighters here and Jimin is like an idol to him. He admires him and aspires to be a great fighter like Jimin is. You know this because he told you.

Taehyun could be considered as your friend. He would often make you company whenever Jimin was training or was too busy. Which you completely understood – Jimin being busy – you just wanted to watch him and obviously, his attention can't be fully on you at all times. Jimin boxing has been the reason why you met him. It's also been a huge part of your… relationship and friendship.

“Sorry.” Taehyun offers softly, regret fully laced in his tone as you can't help but glance in the ring's direction where you know Jimin is. 

You find him and Jungkook stopping, taking a short break to drink some water. 

One of the girls that hangs around and usually helps with little stuff, hands Jimin his bottle. It's a simple act and in a way, you understand her little too long stare at Jimin's face and abs. But something in you cracks and you find yourself to be even more irritated and angrier, especially when he looks at her down from the ring and shoots her a grin. You watch the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes and your teeth clench. And then she steps into the ring, staying behind the ropes though as she has the audacity to tap his forehead with a white towel. 

“Oh, shit.”

Taehyun's silent reaction doesn't help. For a second you're mad, ready to leave this place and then the next, something snaps inside you and you share a look with Taehyun. Though his face starts to get blurry and once more, he curses under his breath. 

Before you know it, you're enveloped in a big hug. It feels comforting and you find yourself not moving. From a distance, nobody can tell you started crying. Your tears fell down but no more comes. It looks like you're just casually hugging and no one really shoots a glance your way. As far as you can tell anyway. 

In the distance, you hear Jungkook call out Jimin's name and it causes you to pull away from Taehyun's warm and comforting hug.

Jimin's glare isn't hard to notice and it makes your stomach drop. He has never looked so cold at you. It makes it painful to swallow and you gulp. But the glare barely lasts a second as he slips under the ropes, taking off his gloves in a heated manner before he tosses them on the ground. Your jaw is ready to fall to the floor as he stomps toward you, hands still in the hand wraps. 

“Shit, is he about to beat me up?” Taehyun asks hurriedly, almost shitting his pants. You can't blame him, Jimin looks scary as fuck – among other things you wish not to reveal.

You're too shocked to react, until you realize he's just a few steps away from you so you meet him halfway. 

He's not even looking at you, glaring at Taehyun from across your figure where he is standing, watching Jimin with wide eyes. If it weren't for your hands on his sweaty and exposed chest, you're sure nothing would stop him.

His skin is hot, something it always is but this time he's burning up from the activity he just did. You get distracted for a second and you have to remind yourself, touching him after your argument is not your priority right now. It does feel bittersweet though. 

Jimin's gaze finally drops on your hands before they look straight into your eyes. His eyes soften and he searches your face, as if he's looking for any change. But you're not different. Maybe sleep deprived but nothing your concealer and make-up can't cover up. You tried your best to look good – not for him but for you as well.

And Jimin wants to curse you out for wearing the sweet summer dress. The piece of cloth looks so innocent but you look absolutely stunning. Your breasts almost spill out of the tight and low cut. The outfit is not supposed to be hot or provocative, yet you look like a goddess and Jimin knows most of the guys must've sneaked a glance or two your way. 

Meanwhile he's not possessive at all, he tends to get a little jealous. But back then he didn't mind it much because you were his. Everybody knew that. 

Were you though? 

“What are you doing, Jimin?” you ask softly, Jimin feeling his heartbeat picking up its pace from finally hearing your voice.

“What were you doing?” he asks, glancing behind you, glaring at Taehyun again you guess. 

You look around, noticing the curious eyes set on you which make you break out of your trance. Hesitantly, you slide your hands off his chest and the movement causes him to look back at you. Shifting on your spot rather uncomfortably under all the prying eyes, you nibble on your bottom lip before mustering the courage to look up at him. 

“Can we talk? Somewhere private?” you ask silently, eyes dancing over the people curiously watching you which pushes Jimin to follow your line of vision.

His brows immediately scrunch, glaring at everyone and as he's getting riled up and about to curse them out publicly, they all look away in a second and chattering begins as everyone goes back to their previous activity. 

Jimin glances down at you once again, whole face softening up as he grabs you by your wrist. “Come on.” he mutters and starts leading you to the back.

The locker room, you recognize the way immediately. It's the only place where you will have privacy at the moment. 

You act as if you and Jimin were fighting for god knows how long. In reality, it's been like two weeks but those two weeks feel like an eternity. You haven't been in this locker room for that exact time. It's here where you fought after Jimin had a late night training. It was just the two of you. 

The whole argument started as something stupid and it escalated to this massive argument, ending with you walking away and Jimin frustratedly letting you.

“So? You and Taehyun now?” Jimin fills the silence right after the sound of door closing reaches your ears. 

“Don't do that,” you frown, turning to properly look at him. “You have no right to act like this.” 

He scoffs, reaching for a fresh towel as he wipes his face and chest again. He tosses it at the laundry bin in the corner of the room. 

“I have no right to anything apparently.” 

“You don't get to act jealous.”

Jimin clenches his jaw, keeping his head low but he still sends you glare your way. 

“Right,” he nods, “Because we are nothing. We are just strangers.” 

“That's not what I meant and you know it.” 

“No, actually I don't.” he snaps, wanting to say something more but catches himself and takes a deep breath instead. 

A beat of silence follows, the painful silence as you're far enough to not hear anyone else. You tongue your cheek, glancing around to prevent yourself from simply watching Jimin who successfully ignores you and doesn't look your way. 

The tall mirrors across the entire side of the wall shows how desperate you really are. All you ever wanted was more. But that wasn't part of your deal. This was fun and it started to get more serious. 

Jimin loves fun. He enjoys the thrill you both experienced. He told you himself one time after you had sex. It's been so craved in your mind ever since then. 

“Why does Taehyun even matter?” you ask, slapping your hands against your sides as Jimin finally looks at you, the frown on his face visible as soon as you bring up Taehyun. 

“If you're planning to date guys from this gym, do it outside.” he says bitterly and you stare in disbelief. 

What's his problem? 

“You have no right to prohibit me from that.” you remind him stubbornly. 

That's not the point you want to make at the moment, but you still need to inform him. Who does he think he is?

“Not like that's happening anyways. Me and Taehyun are just friends.”

Jimin scoffs once again, shaking his head in disbelief as he lets a bitter laugh while he rubs his forehead. “Yeah, right. The moment me and you–” he pauses, clearing his throat right after. “You suddenly hug.”

“A hug doesn't mean dating.” you point out. 

“You never hugged him before.”

“And you never let the girl wipe off your sweat before.” you snap right back, widening your eyes right after it escapes your disobedient mouth.

“Jieun?”

“Whatever her name is.” you snap and Jimin's lips suddenly twitch a little. 

“She is no one,” he mutters, “Compared to T–”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim frustratedly. “You're so dumb! Taehyun is my friend. He adores you and he would never do that to you! Not even if I asked him to!”

You are trying to prove a point once again but Jimin only takes what he wants. So his response shouldn't surprise you but you can't help but be left speechless. 

“Oh, so you would want him?”

“No!” you almost cry out frustratedly. “I just want to be loved!” you exclaim, clasping your mouth shut as Jimin stares with big eyes.

Oh fuck, he looks so innocent. And fucking hot. With his hair damp from the sweat, a strand of hair almost falling into his eyes as he effortlessly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“This is stupid. Why did I want to talk? This is just like the argument we had before.” 

You can't do this. Embarrassed that you just confessed your desire, you want to walk away and never come back. No matter how painful that's going to be. 

It's not the desire itself that makes you embarrassed though. It's the fact that you want to be loved by Jimin and no one else.

“No, don't walk away please.” he says, catching you by your wrist as he holds you tight while you show your frustration by trying to get out of his grip. 

You may be overreacting a little, but that's what you always do when things get rough. Trying to leave. At least it feels like that when it happens with Jimin. And it's only because you're scared of what you truly feel inside. Jimin is just not the type for this. He told you many times before and you can't let yourself be heartbroken when he reminds you of it again. 

In other situations, you have no problem talking things over. It feels a little tricky with Jimin though.

“Loved?” he questions and you groan.

Though you're not making it any easier for Jimin, he still holds you gently enough for it not to hurt. He's caring and as his big soft eyes stare at you, you feel like crying all over again. God, you like him so much. You're fucked. 

“Fucking stupid, right?” you scoff. 

“Why would it be stupid?” Jimin cocks his head to the side confusingly. 

“Oh, come on, Jimin.” you roll your eyes, snatching your hand from his grip as he looks alarmed but you don't dare to move. “You're the one who said you're not up for relationships. You don't have time for it. So what if I want it right now? What if I don't want just to be fucked?” 

Jimin opens his mouth. 

“And we were doing exactly that. So why can't I talk to Taehyun?” 

You're frustrated, starting to babble a little nonsense because there's no need to bring up Taehyun. That's only going to rile Jimin up all over again. 

“Don't.” he warns. 

“Why has the thought of me and Taehyun has always been such a problem? I mean yes, we were fucking. I wouldn't want you to fuck anyone else. But you're acting as if I can't–”

“Stop.”

“What? Why?” you provoke him why tilting your head, trying to act clueless and innocent. “We are not together, Jimin. I get why you would get a little jealous. But storming in our direction because of what? Because he simply hugged me? You have no ri–”

“I fucking like you.” Jimin spits out, cutting you off so easily that it feels like a slap to your face. 

It's the words that leave you breathless and you have to blink a few times to make sure it's real. He said what? You stare at him, seeing his face frustrated as he rubs his forehead. He's clenching his jaw, looking around while his breathing quickens up. And you just stand there and stare like an idiot. 

“Like me?” you whisper and Jimin chuckles a little heartlessly. “Jimin, you said–”

“I know what I said about relationships,” he cuts you off. “Is that so hard to believe that I could like you?” 

“I…” you trail off, still too shocked to form a proper sentence. “It is. You never–I never got that feeling from you. You always said how much you like our relationship and what it is.”

“Yes, that I can trust you, always talk to you. I didn't–obviously I didn't share everything that's been on my mind.”

“Since when?”

“A long time.” he whispers, looking right into your eyes while your breath hitches.

To be honest, you're not sure what to think. You want to believe him and you would never judge him for his own history and the lack of interest in anything remotely close to love or relationships. You do believe people could change but this feels like the cliché scenario that happens with men like Jimin. And by that you mean them willing to try it but not being able to stay in a relationship when things get rough. Quite frankly, you're not even sure if Jimin is ready to be in a relationship.

Sure, you and him get along pretty well (minus what happened between you two recently). In your mind, you've imagined the two of you together – together – so many times. Can he even love you? 

It's just something that's hard to believe. And you want to believe it. But something just wants you to protect your heart. You don't want to get any more hurt than you already did. For fuck sake! You got into an argument and you've been sobbing into your pillow every night. You can't possibly imagine going through something even more heartbreaking. You're way too deep in this shit.

But at the same time, you're pretty aware that you don't know unless you try. And it doesn't feel fair to Jimin at all. 

“Why are you looking at me that way?” he questions you, frowning as he sees the lack of trust you have on your face. “You don't believe me?”

He sounds hurt and so fragile all of a sudden. You feel like a major asshole even more now. 

“Listen,” he starts, refusing to no longer stay silent. “I fucking like you.”

“Taehyun likes me too and he's my fr–”

“Don't you dare to say his name right now.” Jimin cups your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks but not painfully. 

You stare into his eyes that darken, the little shadow there causing you to gulp. His already sharp and visible jawline clenches once again. You know you shouldn't find him extremely sexy right now, but your body acts automatically and you let your eyes drop down to his lips. You flicker them back on but you know he caught you. 

His mouth twitches and he slowly, painfully for you, licks his lips. 

“Are you getting turned on right now?” 

The mocking behind his tone should annoy you but you don't find yourself to be annoyed. The sex with him has always been great, one of the reasons why it lasted so long between you and him. But it wasn't everything. You appreciated every minute you got to spend some time with him. Sex or no sex – each time was special to you.

Jimin doesn't torture you by questioning the obvious, a recognition flickering in those beautiful eyes of his while his thumbs caress your soft cheekbones.

“I'm gonna show you how much I like you.”

The single word sounds mocking almost and the way he emphasizes, like there's something much more than him simply liking you. And you know he doesn't say it but you see he's hiding something. He's not telling the truth and you can only hope he's reciprocating what you've been feeling for him for the longest time. 

But perhaps now, it's time to act upon your feelings.

Jimin stays true to his words and doesn't waste any time finally tasting your lips. You can't help but hum into the needy and rough kiss. He doesn't pull away any time soon, kissing you with all the passion you've been missing and the familiar ecstasy clouds your senses. All you can feel is him and you wouldn't have it any other way. There are still a few things you both need to talk about but for now, you just want to be close to him again. For now, you need to feel him and touch him.

It's mind-blowing how at peace you are the moment Jimin has kissed you. The kiss is nothing but rushed, needy and rough with no intention just ending there. You know it. You've had many of those and it always led to one thing. And you're completely fine with it. 

Hands on Jimin's wrist, you get a proper hold on him as soon as he starts backing you, doing it all without breaking off the kiss. He bites your lower lip, sucks it and even pushes his tongue into your mouth. You welcome it all, almost whining when you're forced to break off the kiss as he gently pushes you to sit down on the long bench.

Jimin drops to his knees before you can needily reach toward him. He watches your entire form for a moment, licking his lips again before he attacks your neck. He sucks and bites your skin there for a few seconds, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy as you push your body into his. 

You're just as needy, wanting to be touched – only by him because he knows your needs and body like the back of his hand.  

He pushes down your summer dress under your breasts, exposing your chest to the chilly air in the locker room. The thought of someone coming here and finding you like this, with your breasts fully exposed, crosses your mind but Jimin utterly averts your attention as soon as his mouth clasps around your nipple. 

“Oh fuck.” you moan, the other hand fondling your other breast.

“You like that?” Jimin says, hot breath fanning over your wet and sensitive nipple before he goes back to his previous activity. 

At the beginning of your “relationship” Jimin would use his mouth in other ways than to just bring you pleasure with it by using it. The dirty talk was one of the things that could make you wet in seconds, he always knew what to say. 

Throughout the months of getting to know you intimately, he figured out you're just as freaky and needy as him. One of the things he always did was to call you his little slut. But that has changed. You're not sure when it changed exactly but from his slut you became his pretty and good girl – and fuck – that was even more dangerous to you than any degrading thing he could've said. That had you going and Jimin obviously figured it out.

It's stupid and it shouldn't mean this much to you, but his following words want to make you praise him for simply not forgetting. 

Not forgetting to praise you yet again. 

“Such pretty tits,” Jimin mutters, licking your other breast while you do your best not to move your hips against the bench. “I missed them.”

Not giving you time to digest his words fully, he's on his knees once against and this time pulls you closer to him. You catch yourself just in the right now as he gently pushes down on your chest, making you lay down. 

The bench is in no way a comfortable place to do this, especially if your head hangs off. But once again, you don't voice it because the second Jimin pushes your underwear to the side and clasps his skilful mouth onto your glistening cunt, none of it matters. 

He's everywhere down there. Licking and sucking your clit, then eating you out like a starved man with one hand squeezing your breast. You can't hold yourself up and the pleasure he's giving you causes you to lay down, even with your head thrown back. 

“Look at yourself,” Jimin suddenly says from between your thighs, the top of his purple head catching your eyes for a second before you close them again. “Look how fucking pretty you are.”

And you open your eyes, ignoring the blood rushing to your head as you gasp at the sight. You see yourself, face full of pleasure and mouth gasping as Jimin picks up the intensity and pace. You're long gone, every little thing edging you closer to the orgasm until you're cumming on his tongue.

But no. 

He is not done with you. 

Jimin rushes (but still remains gentle despite the rush and neediness in his motions) and turns you around. The bench is even more uncomfortable under your knees than it was under your bum, but you barely acknowledge it when Jimin pulls down his training boxers and exposes himself to your hungry eyes. 

Fuck, you've missed this too. 

You salivate like a hungry dog, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror. Your eyes meet and he shoots you a smirk. You're so focused on that (and already totally fucked out) that you don't notice the movements between his legs. That's until you feel the head of his cock touching your wet hole. 

“Ah, fuck, baby.” you moan, Jimin chuckling before he enters you. 

He's gentle at first, praising you for how good you feel and how much he missed your tight cunt (his words). All of it makes you already clench around him. So you beg him to fuck you, desperation evident in your raspy voice. And boy, does he listen. 

He fucks into you his thick and long length, urging you to look at yourself whenever you close your eyes shut from the indescribable pleasure. You do look. You watch him fucking you in the reflection, beds of sweat collecting on yours and his skin. He's biting into his lower lip harshly, grunting each time he thrusts into you while your high moans echo against the walls. 

It's messy and so wet between your legs, you swear you feel your wetness traveling down your thigh. You're so close. Telling even Jimin that. And he smiles proudly, admitting he's not far away from that either. 

And then he hoists you up, presses your back to his chest while still being inside you. And your eyes meet again in the reflection. His thrusts turn more gentle, still setting up a good pace that makes you see stars. But the way he rolls his hips into you and the intensity not only behind his movements but his eyes as well, you just know. 

So you smile through the pleasure, silently telling him with your eyes that yes, you know. 

“Mine.” he grunts, one hand around your waist holding you in place, while the other pinches your nipple. 

He rubs it softly shortly after while your fingers dig into his arm that's still around your waist. You squeeze him harder, moaning out his name before you confess; “Mine.”

“Fucking yours.” he spits out through the grunts and then it completely rushes down onto you. 

You're cumming, body shaking against Jimin as pleasure controls your body. A few more thrusts and Jimin cums too, spilling his load into you with a low yet long groan. Even after the orgasm, he holds you tightly against him and you stay like that for god knows how long. It's until you whimper at your knees that Jimin helps you to sit down. He silently cleans you up with another fresh towel before the piece of cloth joins the other towel he used before. 

He kisses you and helps you to cover yourself while he does the same. 

“Does this… does this mean–”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Jimin cuts you off, grinning at you like a mischievous teenboy as you pause for a second in pure shock before you chuckle. 

“I thought you would never ask.” you reply stupidly.

“It took me too long, I know. I guess I was too scared. Minseok has been patronizing me–”

“Oh my god!” you suddenly gasp, making him stop as Jimin sits next to you and stares at you in concern. 

“They all must have heard us!” 

Jimin cackles at how scandalized you look, with your palm covering your mouth and all. 

“That's the least of my concerns, to be honest.”

You nudge him in the shoulder as you look horrified. Jimin teases you, taking your hand into his as he peaks from the locker room. Everything seems silent and you walk into the main room finding it oddly empty. 

“Where is everyone?” you ask in confusion. 

Not that you're not happy! There is a chance nobody heard you. Not that you mind it that much, you just don't want people to be up your and Jimin's business. Like they haven't been nosy enough. 

Jimin walks up to his training bag, the only item sitting on top of a similar bench he just fucked you on. Pulling out his phone, you see him checking it with a slight frown on his face before he hands you the device. He ushers you to read it with a tilt of his hand, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth. 

Minseok: “kicked everyone out, you owe me. and I hope it was worth it and you finally grew some balls to tell her you love her. if not, i'm gonna kick you in the ass next time.” 

You hand him the phone back with a similar smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“He's right.” Jimin comments, tossing the phone back to his bag. 

“About?” 

“Everything,” he says simply while you're trying not to freak out about the L word.

It was Minseok who said it. Surely he must've known Jimin likes you, that's what Jimin wanted to tell you back in the locker room before you interrupted him. But these guys don't really think about these words, not as much as women do and it must've been a mistake–

“Especially that I love you.”

Jimin laughs the moment he waits for your reaction and he finally gets to see it. You look like a bucket of ice has been thrown on you.

You shake yourself out of the daze, trying to keep your posture while your heart is ready to burst out of your chest. But Jimin doesn't look nervous, he's beaming at you with the prettiest smile you've known ever since you got to know him. This moment right here is everything you've dreamed of ever since you found out about your deeper connection and feelings toward him.

So you take a deep and calm breath, the next following words spilling out of your mouth effortlessly. 

“I love you too.”

It feels like both of you are teenagers, giggling to yourselves while ending your confession with a few strong kisses full of love. 

“Now that everyone is gone. We could take a shower. Then I'm going to take you to my place.” he tells you once he pulls away from the kiss. 

Your arms around his neck and his staying on top of your ass, you grin at him. 

“And then what?” 

“I'm gonna cook you a nice dinner. I want to cuddle you and talk to you because I fucking missed you.”

“Hm, is that all?” you ask teasingly. 

“Is that not enough?” he teases back. 

“Surely it is.” 

“And maybe I will fuck my girlfriend again.”

“Lucky her,” you muse, “What an explicit word though.”

“I can make love to her too. Never done that before but I'm confident I can do it.” he continues and you press your lips not to giggle. 

“I trust you.”

And then you burst into the cutest fit of giggles. If somebody saw you right now, they would find the image of the serious and wonderful boxer Jimin giggling like a teenager hilarious. Little do you know they will witness it for sure, now that you're his girlfriend and all. 

Jimin is going to show his new side not only to you, but to everyone else.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #personasintro

[loud-sound]

(part 1 of part 2!!)

for shits n giggles, i tried my hand at redesigning dr stone characters (read: three)

i have too many emotions when it comes to this show's character design lmao. a vicious hate-love of the century

a couple of my process notes if anyone's interested: (vague spoilers up to season 3 of the anime)

there's a criminal lack of skin tones that i immediately wanted to take advantage of; and before Certain People start saying race-swapping; none is happening here, it's all just taking account of tanning and sunburns. sunscreen is a thing of the past here and a lot of time is spent outdoors in order to gather food

dramatic shifts in skin tones from what's given at birth happen pretty frequently in real life even with A/C and sunscreen; a huge missed opportunity to play with this in the color department methinks, but here we are (don't even get me started on the massive range of skin tones in east asian genetics alone)

so i played around a bit with contrast, nothing outlandish aside from giving Kohaku noticeable sunburns and freckles from (1) having caucasian blood in her to begin with and (2) not having access to any of the skin products our moderners would have

that being said, realism in the clothing color department was just about entirely thrown out the window. the blue dyes we know about are nowhere (naturally) near Japan, and here Ishigami village is in canon with deep navy on every villager; Inagaki and Boichi decided realism specifically here wasn't as important as color symbolism (which i personally think was a good creative decision), so cut me some slack-

so for colors it was just my personal taste on streamlining the palettes-

Gen in particular i thought would benefit from exposed shoulders without taking away how he needs bigger sleeves to hide shit up there. a lot of the guys have plain shirts and sleeves or just go shirtless entirely and i felt like it'd be fun to have him wear something in between to really push the magician/entertainer vibe

hairstyles were changed mostly to be easier to draw and to make their silhouettes just a bit easier to distinguish from each other. (hair colors were untouched except for Kohaku, purely because i have a personal preference for the more natural blonde color than any actual design significance lmao)

partial exception for Kohaku, cuz it annoyed me that the other characters say she has super thick, unruly hair...but then her hair is drawn no differently from everyone else's 💀

didn't wanna play into the stereotype of naturally curly hair being seen as something to be fixed (especially within the context of a makeover-), so i tried to imply chronically unbrushed hairdsjfsdf

can you tell from how many bullets are here about Kohaku how i feel about her design? last thing: body types.

Gen is supposed to be significantly tall, Kohaku is one of the strongest characters while being one of the shortest; it is very hard to tell that from their designs alone. it's mostly just the limitations of Boichi's art style,,,proportions that's i'm aware is nitpicky, but i wanted to show it here anyway 💀💀💀

smth smth disclaimer about subjectivitydsfsdfsd-

uhhhh, congrats for reading all that, have some silhouettes!

#dr. stone #dr stone #drst #gen asagiri #asagiri gen #ishigami senku #senku ishigami #kohaku #dr stone kohaku #redesign #character design #character redesign #doctor stone #dr stone gen #dr stone senku #dcst #anime redesign #anime fanart #dr stone fanart #can you tell that character design is one of my special interests-

[fishwithtitz]

The Five Times I Hooked Up with Mary Goore (and the One Time I Couldn’t)

Summary: Mary had a certain…reputation around town. Equal blends of obnoxious and quiet, depending on who he was around, and not afraid of stirring up a little trouble if the occasion was right. The elderly were afraid of him, children gawked at him, and the “straight-and-narrow” folks were annoyed by his antics and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. I’d heard stories of him being kicked out of bars for all sorts of interesting behaviors and fighting mouthy assholes in alleyways. I didn’t know him well enough to know if it was purely a stage act that filtered into his interactions or if it was really who he was. Prior to tonight, I hadn’t cared enough to really think about it.

“You coming?” His voice broke me from my mental back-and-forth and I looked up at him, noticing he had walked a few steps ahead of me, his body now turned to face me with his arm motioning toward the side yard.

Fuck it, I thought, nodding my head as I jogged to catch up to him. I guess I’m spending the evening with Mary Goore.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Mary Goore x OFC / 7.2k words

Warnings: language, graphic description of oral sex, mentions of animal harm (no animal harm actually occurs), recreational drug use

ao3 link

Chapter One: Hook-up #1: The Rooftop

It wasn’t that I was against going to a house party. During the handful of years that I’d experienced adulthood (and some of my teenage years as well), I’d been to plenty, and I’d seen some shit that still brought smiles (and shudders) to my face. 

No, it wasn’t a feeling of disdain or a lack of desire to be at the loud, crowded ranch-style home on the rougher side of town full of ornery drunk young adults; it was that I didn’t have the social battery to play the “party game” tonight. 

Desiree had dragged me out all but against my will. (“It will be fun!” She’d said. “Come on…a couple bands are going to play!”) Although I knew she was hoping her words would act as a catalyst for my desire to attend, it only made me roll my eyes. I’d been engulfed in the local music scene for ages and it was always a toss up which type of bands you’d see playing at house parties. 

Eventually, I’d resigned to my fate after she’d both used her big brown puppy eyes (which I’d lovingly nicknamed her “Puss in Boots” tactic), and a confession that she was trying to sleep with the guy that lived there and needed a little support. “Friends don’t let friends get cockblocked,” she’d argued.  So, after an hour of preening on her end and me smelling which clothes seemed the least likely to need a wash, we’d hopped in a rideshare and headed to the party on the other side of town. 

I’d lost track of Des after about ten minutes when she’d homed in on Thomas, the illustrious party-thrower and member of her current favorite local band. I’d received a pleading look and an air kiss as she’d locked arms with him and disappeared into the crowd. I assumed this meant she was abandoning me and would make it up to me later somehow. 

Currently, I stood with my back hugging the wood-paneled wall of a sunken den with a mostly gone PBR in hand, people watching. I sighed and took the last sip from my can, cringing a bit at the warmth and watery taste that a last sip always provides, and chucked the can in a nearby overflowing trash bin. 

The den wasn’t as full as the rest of the larger rooms of the house, which is one of the reasons I chose it. A thrash metal band was playing in the partially finished basement downstairs and their sound was loud and gritty enough to pierce through the subfloor and into the main level. Despite this, a few groups of people congregated around the den in various stages of conversation and drunkenness. 

I pushed myself off the wall and hopped up the half steps to round into the kitchen with a hope that it had been long enough for Des to reappear somewhere. I was almost instantly met with a crowd of people circling around the kitchen table in an energetic game of beer pong. My eyes peered through the space between two guys cheering on the team closest to us, and I could quickly see why the game was so lively: each successful shot resulted in both a drink and the removal of an article of clothing of the opposing team. 

I glanced across the kitchen to the clock on the stove. 11:17 PM. I’d been here for almost an hour and a half already. My social battery was nearly dead at this point, so I decided to hop out to the back patio for a little reprieve. It was surprisingly empty (which I credited to the band playing and the strip pong) and I slid into a plastic deck chair before pulling my vape out of my pocket and folding my legs up to criss-cross in the seat of the chair. 

I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I leaned back and gazed at the stars from between the branches of the old trees craning over the house and yard, but it couldn’t have been that long before I heard the screen door slide open and the light clunking of boot-trodden footsteps approaching. I didn’t glance up, instead flipping the vape back and forth through my fingers as if lost in thought. 

The sound of a seemingly male voice, who I attributed to the boot-man, interrupted my calm. 

“That shit is terrible for your lungs.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t do it that often,” I replied coolly. I’d hoped to escape conversation for a while by coming outside and I wasn’t all that interested in small talk. 

I glanced over to see the person who’d spoken to me and was met with a smirk and shrug from a mystery man. Golden brown hair hung down past his shoulders and onto his back, framing his angular face. His cheeks looked ashen - almost as if dark makeup had been wiped off - and he held a beer bottle in hand as he leaned against the railing of the old wood porch. His eyes didn’t falter and I searched to see if I recognized them. Were they green? Hazel? I couldn’t quite tell in the darkness of the patio and I surely didn’t know who he was.

Breaking our stare, and in a slight act of defiance, I took a long pull from my vape pen. The bitter, smooth taste of THC danced down my throat and filled my lungs. I exhaled the skunky-smelling vapor, trying to politely aim towards the other side of the patio, and immediately started to cough. Hard. 

“Oh shit, I didn't know that’s what you were doing,” the guy said with a look of surprise and a small laugh. I wanted to retort with something snarky (“What else would I be doing out here?”), but when I tried to form the words, I was overcome by continuous strings of deep coughs and wheezes as I tried to intake air. 

“Here.” He took a step closer and held out his beer to me. I furrowed my brow, my arm still covering my mouth as I shook through my coughing fit, but ultimately accepted it with a slight nod. The beer was cool on my throat and helped to soothe the self-inflicted soreness. I only needed a couple of small swigs before my breathing seemed back to normal and I could hand him back the bottle. 

“Thanks, um—...” I paused, looking him over in search of his name. 

“Mary,” he finished for me, accepting the beer back, “Mary Goore.”

“Dahlia,” I offered back, earning a tip of his bottle in reply. 

Now that I’d fumbled my way through breaking the ice, I couldn’t help but sneak a better look at him. He was surely taller than me. His frame appeared lean and muscular from what I could see underneath his leather battle jacket and tight black jeans. My suspicions about the shoes were also confirmed. He was wearing a pair of black combat boots that matched the sound of his clunking footsteps. 

“I don't think I've seen you around before,” he said after a beat, breaking me from my obvious study of his appearance. I looked away and took a much smaller drag from my vape pen. 

“I'm here with a friend. Or, well, I was.” I licked my lips, eyes cast through the screen door as I gazed at the busy kitchen, “I kind of lost track of her.”

“She ditched you? That's kind of shitty,” he replied.

I turned to look at him again and was met with those piercing eyes. Green I decided. Definitely dark green. Mossy. “I'm pretty sure she's off with Thomas. Somewhere.” I motioned my hand haphazardly in the air. “I don't know. It’s been over an hour since I’ve seen her.”

He chuckled at this and took another pull from his bottle. “Yeah, if she’s with Tommy, I wouldn’t expect to see her for a while.” He paused and looked towards the direction of the screen door before looking back at me again. “You not into beer pong?”

I shrugged and looked in at the kitchen again. “Bad aim.” He nodded and at this point I noticed that the girls on the losing team were nearly nude, only wearing their bras and panties, while the guys on the opposing team had only lost their shirts. “I also don’t feel like taking my clothes off.”

A smile graced his lips at my words. “So, you won't be following in your friend's footsteps then?”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks at his innuendo and I looked away to hide my embarrassment. It wasn’t that I was against casual sex. I wasn’t prude, per say, but the idea of talking about it openly and alone with a stranger made me a little uncomfortable. 

“Sometimes, I just need a break from the crowd. The noise and the...feeling of so many people around me—… It's nice to be somewhere a little more open and calm,” I said softly.

I exactly don’t know why I said it — I didn’t owe Mary an explanation and I certainly didn’t need to get personal with him. I suppose I was trying to steer the conversation away from my best friend’s hookup and the raunchy game happening inside.

Mary let out a chuckle at this admission and my brows furrowed defensively. “What?” I asked. 

He shook his head a little and the light pouring through the screen door to the kitchen illuminated his face, showing that the corners of his mouth were tugged in an amused smirk. “You crave calm, yet you come to a house party?” I felt myself bristle a little at this. “You’re interesting, Dahlia.”

He cast me a smile that was equal parts cocky and warm, and god, there were those eyes again staring right at me. I shook the thought from my head. 

“Why are you out here, then?” I asked in a defensive retort.

Mary shrugged again, nonchalant as ever, and took another sip of his nearly empty beer. “Lost a bet,”  he answered. 

I felt my heart drop as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Was he out here talking to me because of some stupid punishment for losing to his friends? ‘Go talk to the weird chick sitting by herself outside’? He must have noticed my reaction, because he quickly interjected. “—Not like that! I'm avoiding the guy I owe $20.” 

“Oh, so you're nosy and you're a sore loser,” I shot back in jest, turning my body in my chair to face him a little better. 

Mary rolled his eyes. “No, he's just an asshole and I don't want to give him the satisfaction of winning.”

I laughed a little at his response. “Arrogant, too.” I quipped. This earned me another cheeky smile. I felt the corner of my lips tug down in my own slight smirk and started to flip the vape pen between my fingers again. 

“You gonna share that?” Mary motioned to the vape, his eyebrow slightly raised in question. 

“I thought this shit was bad for your lungs?” I snapped back his own words quickly, a grin plastered to my cheeks. 

This earned me a laugh from Mary, warm and genuine, and he raised his hands up to his chest in defeat. “To be fair, I didn’t know you had weed. That changes things.”

I leaned forward in my chair, almost falling out as I passed the vape pen over to him. He raised the pen to his lips and I watched as they pursed around the mouthpiece. Before I could realize it, I found myself thinking about the fullness of his lips and the slant of his jaw as he took an expert pull. I sucked my own lips into my mouth slightly in response, trying to will-down the fluttering in my gut. He exhaled slowly and passed the pen back to me.

His eyes zeroed in on my form. I realized that I had probably been caught watching, and in a last ditch effort to hide the obvious expression on my face, I rolled my eyes. “Show off,” I said. 

Mary simply grinned proudly in response. Although I didn’t really know him, I can’t say I was surprised at his cockiness. We sat in silence for a few moments (which was weirdly not uncomfortable), and I leaned back once more in my chair to study the pin-pricked stars in the inky sky. It was only getting later, and the likelihood of me meeting back up with Des was slim. After a handful of minutes, I slipped my vape pen back in my pocket and began to zip up my jacket, standing up to stretch out my tired limbs. 

“You off?” Mary asked, breaking the calm quiet. He had since moved to sit in the other vacant chair just next to his spot on the railing, and one of his legs was folded up to rest along his other as he reclined in the plastic seat. I allowed my eyes to travel the expanse of his body, noting the well-worn band tee logo hidden underneath the patch-strewn jacket, as well as the holes and rips dotting the length of his pants. 

I mentally shook myself from my glance and put my hands in my pockets. I was staring again. “Yeah, I don't see Des returning anytime soon and I really don't feel like trying to buy my way into a crowd right now,” I began to rock back and forth on my heels as I studied my shoes. 

The sound of glass hitting something hard broke my focus and I jumped. Mary had thrown his bottle into the trash can across the patio and was standing up from his seat. When I looked up at him, he had a coy smile on his face. He must have seen me react to the noise. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he reasoned, walking over towards me. 

“Let's?...as in you and me?” I asked, eyebrow slightly cocked. 

He shrugged his shoulders and his hands found his own jean pockets. “Yeah, why not?”

I paused. 

It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever heard about Mary Goore before. On the contrary, I had heard many stories about him through the grapevine. We were both active in our local music scene - him, as a musician, and me, as a spectator - and hung out in some of the same circles. I’m sure I’d seen his band play at least once or twice at some point and I’d noticed him at various gigs and bars around town. I’d never met him before, though — his vibe was a bit too forward and intimidating for me to approach him in the past. 

Mary had a certain…reputation around town. Equal blends of obnoxious and quiet, depending on who he was around, and not afraid of stirring up a little trouble if the occasion was right. The elderly were afraid of him, children gawked at him, and the “straight-and-narrow” folks were annoyed by his antics and “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. I’d heard stories of him being kicked out of bars for all sorts of interesting behaviors and fighting mouthy assholes in alleyways. I didn’t know him well enough to know if it was purely a stage act that filtered into his interactions or if it was really who he was. Prior to tonight, I hadn’t cared enough to really think about it. 

Why did he want to spend time with me, of all people? There was an entire house full of partiers he likely knew and got along with. Plus, the now nude girls at the beer pong table were definitely a more enticing choice than a quiet girl getting high on the patio while she waited for her friend, the social lubricator. 

“You coming?” His voice broke me from my mental back-and-forth and I looked up at him, noticing he had walked a few steps ahead of me, his body now turned to face me with his arm motioning toward the side yard. 

Fuck it, I thought, nodding my head as I jogged to catch up to him. I guess I’m spending the evening with Mary Goore. 

🜏🜏🜏

Mary had led me through to the front yard of the house with ease before sidling up to the sidewalk towards the more urban part of town. I followed next to him and matched his pace, hands in my pockets as I looked around at the dark street. We were mostly quiet as we walked, which I didn’t mind. Maybe he reasoned that I didn’t want to engage in small talk since I’d purposefully separated myself from the party crowd, or maybe he was content to just walk. I wasn’t sure but was grateful nonetheless. 

We ended up at a 24-hour convenience store a few blocks from Thomas’ house. Mary motioned towards the door as if asking nonverbally if I wanted to come in, but I shook my head, holding up my vape pen to tell him that I was fine outside while he did whatever he’d planned on doing. 

It wasn’t a long wait, probably five or ten minutes, and I’d had enough time to take a few more hits of my vape pen to calm my nerves. My anxiety had started to bloom in my chest. I didn’t know Mary and I was alone with him, in the dark, walking around an area of town I wasn’t familiar with. I had made sure to ping Des with my location, sending a simple text of “left for a walk, be home later” (though I doubted she was in any position to check her phone). 

Mary emerged from the gas station with an armful of snacks and a brown bag stuffed with…something. I shook my head in disbelief and pocketed the vape pen again as I followed him down another unknown street. 

“Here, put these in your pockets since you have so many of them—” Mary grabbed a couple of small bags of chips from the arm holding them and held them out to me before stopping and turning to face me, “—why the fuck are you wearing cargo pants?”

My eyes widened in defensive disbelief. “I like them!”

He laughed and cocked a brow at me. “Is that like a...scouts thing? You one of those doomsday preppers or secret militiamen?” I could feel the snark dripping from his tone. He was enjoying this. 

“They're literally just pants! They're comfy and they're cute and I—” I sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose, “I do not have to explain this to you.”

Mary pushed the bags of chips into my chest playfully and I quickly struggled to grab onto them. Dropping them would be the icing on the shit cake of embarrassment. 

“...you didn't steal these, did you?” I asked as I eyed him cautiously. 

Mary, who had begun walking again, turned his head to look at me with a glance of disbelief, surprise, and possibly a tinge of irritation. I felt my heart sink a little with guilt and I let out another defeated noise. 

“Fine. I'm only doing this because I feel like I owe you,” I grumbled, stuffing the small chip bags into my cargo pockets. 

“Scouts honor?”

“Fuck off, Goore.”

We walked down a winding sidewalk, the street completely empty and illuminated eerily with various old street lamps, some flickering in exhaustion. It had grown quiet again (except for the shaking, crunching noise of the chips in my pockets) and this time I felt like I had to break the dead air. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked quietly. 

He didn’t turn to address me. “Somewhere quiet and calm. Just like you wanted.”

I felt that familiar heat rising to my cheeks and my momentary anxiety cooled. “Thanks,” I eventually replied. 

“Don't mention it,” he said with a slight smile, before his expression changed to one of seriousness, “Really, don't mention it. I have a reputation to uphold.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I've heard. Did you really microwave a cat?”

Mary suddenly stopped in front of me and turned around, causing me to nearly run smack-dab into his chest. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed with furrowed brows. “I might be an asshole, but I don't fuck with animals. That shit is psycho.” He shook his head and pointed to one of my pockets, the one holding the vape, and I took this as his way of asking for it without really asking. I handed it to him and we started walking again. After a long drag, he looked over at me, our paces now matched, and exhaled with a lewd smile. “The only pussy I eat is in between the woman’s legs that are squeezing my head.” 

I cleared my throat to hide my noise of surprise at his boldness. It didn’t work and he laughed at the stunned expression on my face. 

“So, um, what’s in the brown bag?” I asked, changing the subject. 

“A forty. And shaved ice.” Mary handed me back the pen and motioned to the left before turning down another quiet street. I looked at him curiously. “Come on, we're almost there.”

Mary started to jog off the path through some bushes that lined the sidewalk and I scurried to keep up with him. It was almost comical watching his lean body try to move quickly without dropping his bounty and I had to hold back a snort. He led us through a bank of trees and through some overgrown grass (during which I made sure to threaten that if I got a tick I would beat his ass) before stopping in front of a small building. 

It was an old, abandoned warehouse that sat just off the main road. The structure was all cement and brick with worn shingles and overgrown vines, but in the starlight, it looked oddly beautiful. 

Mary walked up to the side of the structure and pushed some tree starts to the side, revealing an old ladder that had been purposefully tucked away. “I was hoping this would still be here,” he breathed out as he pulled it to the side and repositioned it against the cracked facade of the building, wiggling it a little to test its sturdiness. “Come on.”

Mary took the paper bag he’d been carrying and gripped it between his teeth as he climbed up the rickety ladder. I hesitantly followed, bouncing a little on the bottom step to make sure it wouldn’t break under my weight, and eventually hoisted myself onto the dirty, rough shingles of the building’s roof. Mary held his hand out to help me find my footing, and we walked over to what looked like the most stable area of the top of the graffitied building. 

We sat down beside one another and Mary started arranging his goodies. I, on the other hand, leaned back, my hands stabilizing behind me with knees bent so that I could glance up at the night sky. The moon was visible and constellations dotted the great expanse above us. Everything was much more visible from our elevated position. Sounds of crickets and a faraway frog teetered through the air. He was right —  this was much more peaceful than the party. I could feel a smile creep onto my face again at his thoughtfulness.

“So, tell me how come I haven’t seen you around before?” Mary started as he spread his legs out in a v-shape against the tiles of the roof. 

“You probably have and just haven’t noticed. I’ve seen you a couple of times at bars and stuff.” I played with the zipper on one of my pants pockets and tried to sound as neutral as possible. I didn’t want to give the impression that I cared that he didn’t know who I was…even if that wasn’t necessarily true. 

“Shit, sorry,” Mary awkwardly laughed and shot me an apologetic smile.  

I returned it warmly. “It’s fine. I don’t have much of a memorable face…or presence for that matter. I’ve come to accept that.”

“I’m guessing you’re into the music scene? Or is that just your friend?” Mary opened up the brown paper bag and took out the forty and a lidded double cup of shaved ice. I watched as he unsheathed the second cup and distributed the now sloshing ice between both cups, before cracking open the beer to pour into both of them. 

“I dabble,” I passed him a small grin and accepted the cup with a silent nod, “I’m not as active as I used to be. Life and…stupid shit got in the way.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and looked down at the icy mess in the cup.

“Boyfriend?” Mary questioned. 

I nodded. “Ex.”

“Ahh. Someone I know?” he asked as he took a swig of his drink.

“Brody Gillings.”

Mary immediately sputtered out the beer concoction and laughed loudly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his leather jacket sleeve. “You dated that tool? Oh fuck, that’s funny. I’m so sorry.”

I watched him as he shook his head, still laughing, and rolled my eyes in response. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, get it out,” I paused and took a sip of my own drink.The taste of hoppy beer had been muddled down with water and gritty ice and I couldn’t help the disgusted look that painted my face. “Jesus, Mary, this is awful,” I choked out.

Mary returned the chuckle and to my surprise, he looked down at his own cup sheepishly. “Yeah, beer slushies sounded like a good idea in my mind, but come to think of it, I’ve never put ice in my beer. Shit’s watery as fuck.”

I shot him an apologetic glance before allowing a beat of silence to overtake the rooftop. I found myself speaking before I even realized it was my voice that cut through the air. “It…wasn’t always bad. He was charming for a while. Introduced me to a few black metal bands that I like.” I let out another small breath and licked my lips as I picked at a stray thread on the fabric of my pants. “Everyone makes mistakes,” I looked up at him, a resigned tug at my lips, “Mine just lasted a couple years too long.”

Despite how awful they tasted, Mary gulped down a chunk of his homemade icee with a nod. “Didn’t he move to Milwaukee to join some up-and-coming band or some shit?”

This time, it was me that choked out a surprised laugh. “Is that what he told people?!” I shook my head and scoffed. “Makes sense. He’s all about appearances.” 

It was true - my ex had been the kind of person who reveled in his reputation in town. The big, bad bassist that could break necks and down more shots than the whole bartop combined. I turned my head to look over at Mary. “He moved to Florida to take care of his grandma. She’s close to death and he’s itching to be written into the will.”

He raised his eyebrows in retort. “Wow, he just keeps getting shittier.”

“Seems to be the running theme with Brody.”

As time wore on, we filled the night air with pleasant and comfortable conversation, Mary sharing about the bands he’d played in and his current band, Repugnant, which were trying to set up a small coastal tour.  I shared a little about my job and my friendship with Desiree, and we sipped our beer slushies until they were mostly gone and had became more water than beer. 

Talking with Mary seemed natural. It came easily. Despite not truly knowing who he was as a person, I spoke with him like he was an old friend. I didn’t feel an air of judgment with what I chose to share with him, and he seemed appreciative that I wanted to know more about the things he enjoyed. Specifically, his music. 

After a while, my head was feeling a little fuzzy from the weed and the beer and I allowed my eyes to close as I relaxed against the scratchy shingles. As the sound of a nearby bird cooed in the distance, Mary reached over and surprised me by looping a licorice rope around my neck. Where he had kept it during our walk over, I had no idea. 

“A licorice rope? I haven't had one of these since I was like...eleven.” I reached up and pulled the rope down to remove the wrapper before biting off a small piece. 

I looked over at the gutter punk beside me to see him tying his own rope in knots, having already removed and discarded the entirety of the wrapper onto the ground below us. 

“Their R&D is genius,” he started, hands working the candy into an intricate knot, “They're like a gateway to BDSM. Perfect for preteens who like pre-bondage.”

I felt myself choke on my bite of licorice and I let out an incredulous laugh. “Mary! I'm pretty sure that's not what these were designed for.”

He paused his tying and looked over at me with another one of his trademark smirks. “Are you saying you're not into bondage? No surprises for me in those cargo pants?”

I felt my cheeks flush and I took another bite to hide my embarrassment. “I am not answering that question.”

This seemed to amuse him, but he let it go when he saw my bashful response, quickly changing the subject. “Hey - chips,” he snapped playfully, hands reaching out in a grabby motion. I unzipped the pockets of my pants and threw the chip bags at him. Annoyingly, he caught the bags without hesitation and ripped open a bag of Lays, quickly shoving a chip into his mouth. 

I tossed him a look. 

“I know it's not microwaved cat, but—”

“— it's no pussy either,” he interrupted, mouth full of chips as he chewed. 

“You're really obsessed with that, aren't you?” I leaned toward him, a hand on my hip as if to teasingly scold him.

He beamed beside me. “Who wouldn't be? There is no better feeling than having your face between some chick's thighs....”

This time, the silence between us was notable. I looked down and bit my lip, not exactly knowing what to say in response. Mary was so nonchalant, so chill yet matter-of-fact in talking about his experiences. It was something I envied. 

He must have caught on to my nervous aura because he set the bag of chips down and rotated his whole body to face me. His eyebrows raised in shock. “...wait, seriously?! You've never—”

“—I've never been with someone that liked it!” I spat out, heat flushing my face as I looked away in mortification. 

“Damn, Brody really was a dickhead. I guess that shouldn't shock me.”

I released a deep breath of resignation and reached up to rub my palms against my eyes, pushing away the burgundy locks that had fallen into my face. “He wasn't the kind of guy who cared about how I felt….in a lot of ways, actually,” I admitted. I could feel Mary’s eyes on me —  studying me — and I avoided them like the plague. 

“...And other guys? Before? They didn't go down on you?” He sounded confused.

I paused. I’m pretty sure I audibly gulped, but my heart was racing so fast that I didn’t really know what was happening. I fiddled with the thread between my fingers, twisting it as I tried to figure out how to respond. "I never reall— what are you doing?!"

My words were interrupted because Mary had shifted from beside me and was crawling over my outstretched leg, settling in between my knees to face me straight on. He was only a few feet from the edge of the roof. “Mary, what the hell? You’re going to fall!”

He ignored my protests. “I'm showing you what you're missing out on,” He said as he saddled himself in between my legs. His eyes flickered up to mine and god damn it, the green hue was almost glowing in the moonlight. He licked his lips and continued. “I'm not gonna let you go through life without experiencing this at least once.” 

He can’t be serious. I chuckled nervously and shook my head. “No, Mary, it's okay, really, you don't have to,” I said, but my words were clearly said in vain. His hands were already resting on the green fabric covering my knees. His grip was soft yet firm, and I felt a lump form in my stomach. 

“I know, I want to,” he grinned, then quickly added, “Platonic head. Just two people enjoying themselves.” Mary raised one hand to his temple and gave me a two finger salute, a mock look of seriousness on his face. “Scouts honor.”

“Fuck you,” I laughed out at his jab. Despite the situation, I felt myself relax a little under his touch. He looked at me lecherously. 

“Maybe if you play your cards right.” He winked at me and sat back on his knees, his hands beginning to brush up my thighs as if to ask silent permission to continue. I swallowed roughly and looked down at his fingertips as they moved across the inseam of my pants and up to the button at my waist. 

I lifted my hips up towards him as his hand ghosted over the button at my waist. He effortlessly popped the button through its closure and slipped both hands under the waistband before pulling the pants down my legs. I silently thanked myself for deciding to shave my legs in the shower this morning as the fabric slid down my calves before being kicked off to the side. I was left in my jacket, tank top, and luckily, a cute pair of lacy black cheeky panties that I had thrown on quickly before we left for the party.

Mary moved a little closer, leaning in as he ran his palms up and down my inner thighs. My skin was pale - maybe even more so in the moonlight - and his hands felt electric with every stroke. I leaned back on my elbows and looked at him through anxious eyes. His long hair hung in strands that perfectly framed his face and at that moment, I noticed just how attractive Mary was. His features were nearly chiseled and masculine, yet his movements were fluid, confident, and soft, almost like he was afraid to break me. 

“Damn, your skin is so soft,” he muttered out, more to himself than anyone else, and he leaned down to press his lips against my inner thigh. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath as I felt him kissing along the sensitive skin there. He was dangerously close to my core and I suddenly was feeling self-conscious at having a person I had just barely met touch me so intimately.

Mary must have sensed my apprehension, because he looked up at me with kind eyes, lips still pressing against my leg. “Relax,” he breathed out, his thumbs rubbing circles against my skin, “You deserve to feel good.” I nodded and let out another relaxing breath, eyes closing as I tilted my head back slightly towards the sky. 

Had someone told me yesterday that Mary Goore would be eating me out on an abandoned warehouse rooftop, acting completely romantic and sweet and selfless, I would have told them they were fucking high. Yet, after talking with Mary all evening, I realized just how gentle he was. How he’d taken the time to get to know me, to ask about my past, to insinuate that I deserved better than aggressive assholes that used metal music as an excuse to antagonize women. I also realized that I was just as bad as the people that looked down at him for the clothing he wore or the music he played. I’d decided to let my assumptions cloud my interpretation of someone I didn’t even know.

His mouth moved closer and broke me from my rabbithole, his teeth grazing against the curve where my leg met my groin, and he brushed his cheek against the fabric of my panties. I felt myself biting down softly on my lip, fingertips pressed into the textured rooftop, and my hips moved just barely at the contact. He chuckled and brought his hands to rest against my hip bones, fingers sliding under the band of my underwear as he pressed a kiss to my mound. Without another word, he slid my panties off and down my thighs before pocketing them. I’m sure he’d hoped I wouldn’t notice and I made a mental note to confront him later about it.

I lay bare in front of him, half naked against the quiet slate, our only neighbors being the surrounding wildlife and the glowing stars above. Mary pressed another kiss to the bare skin of my pussy before wrapping his arms around my thighs and gently pulling me closer to his mouth. I could feel his breath fanning over me and it felt chilly against the wetness that was now gathering at my center. 

He was still for a moment, our breath the only sound punctuating the night, before I felt him lick a stripe up my slit, barely touching my clit before pulling away. I let out an embarrassingly loud moan and reached up to cover my mouth in surprise. I felt him laugh against my thigh. 

“Be as loud as you want, dollface. There’s no one around for blocks.”

I nearly felt myself puddle at the nickname and before I could respond, he was licking against my folds again, fingertips gripping tightly against my thighs. I opened my eyes and looked down, raking in a breath at the sight of the emerald-eyed man between my legs. His gaze was trained on my expression and his tongue was now moving up and down teasingly, trying to get a reaction from me as we locked onto each other. 

Mary moved his tongue up to my clit and massaged it lightly before wrapping his lips around it and sucking down harshly. I arched my back helplessly and let out a loud moan in response, my thighs beginning to squeeze against the sides of his head. My actions earned me a lustful groan in reciprocation. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured against my skin, kissing my labia before diving in to sloppily lick around my clit, pointing his tongue as he flicked it rhythmically. The motions sent shockwaves to my center and I all but crumbled.

“Oh god, Mary,” I said breathlessly, laying down completely as if to surrender to his ministrations. Had I not been so distracted by his movements, I’d likely have felt his cheeky smile against my core. He knew he was good at what he did and he got off on these reactions. Now that I had a taste of what it felt like to have him between my legs, I was more than happy to give him exactly what he wanted.

The weed was really starting to take effect and my limbs started to feel tingly and heavy. I let myself relax into the roof and against Mary, no longer caring about the tiny noises he was working from me with each movement of his mouth. One of his hands left its place on my quad and snaked between us before barely brushing against my entrance. He gathered the slick there and without warning, he pushed inside of me gently, his tongue lapping from his finger up to my sensitive nub.

Mary started to pump inside of me before adding another, the angle shifting before he hit the spot that had me seeing explosions of light dancing in my vision. I buckled my hips up into his face and he moaned lewdly, rubbing his fingertips against my g-spot as he licked and sucked at my core. With each ministration, each caress of his tongue, I felt the tingling deep in my abdomen building and my knees shaking. 

“R-right— fuck, right there,” I whimpered out, my pelvis rocking against his movements. I felt my legs tighten against his head again and without thinking, I reached down to card my fingers through his long, caramel locks, gripping onto them as I guided his head against me. “Don’t stop,” I choked out in an almost sob. I was close and he could tell, because he sped up, increasing the pressure of his tongue as he pumped his fingers in and out of me. 

Mary let out another intoxicatingly attractive groan at my words. “You gonna cum on my tongue, kitten?” he all but growled against my folds. I was so close that I could feel myself dripping onto him and I nodded fervently. “Mmph, good girl. Come for me,” he purred, his tongue circling around my clit before clamping down and sucking hard. 

I completely lost it at that moment. My thighs trembled as I felt the tightness in my abdomen snap, flooding waves of intense pleasure and electric heat throughout my core and into each cell of my body. My grip on his hair tightened and I let out a near-scream of ecstasy as I came undone around his eager tongue. 

Mary continued to work me through my release, his forest-colored eyes watching my every expression as he kissed and sucked at my wet heat. He only stopped when I felt overstimulation take root and pushed lightly at his cheek to signal that it was too much. 

Mary ran his tongue along my slit once more, gathering up my cum with a lascivious gleam in his eyes before releasing his grip on my legs and sitting back. My head had since dropped back against the cool shingles and I was nearly panting, my whole body shaking from the intensity of my orgasm. 

“Holy shit,” I breathed out after a beat, a broad smile tugging at my face as I brushed some of my long, dark red strands from my face. I took a moment to look down at the pleased punk in front of me and watched as he dipped the fingers that had been inside of me into his own mouth, cleaning them off with an obscene slurp. Heat panged at my stomach again and I nearly came from watching him. Fuck, he was hot.

“You taste incredible,” he said before wiping my slick from his mouth and chin, a seductively satisfied grin on his face. I felt myself flush at his words and I let out a bashful giggle, licking my lips as I watched him relax back on his knees. 

“So,” he asked after a minute, reaching out to stroke the pads of his fingers up and down the delicate flesh of my thighs, “Was I right? Nothing better, huh?” He stared at me with lust-blown pupils. 

I sat up slightly to face him and sucked my lips into my mouth briefly to attempt to hide my resigned smirk. Reaching up, I threaded my hands through his messy hair, the pad of my thumb rubbing sweetly against the angle of his jawbone. I guess it wouldn’t kill me to give him a tiny victory.

“Shut up, Goore.”

#mary goore #mary goore x ofc #mary goore x oc #repugnant band #repugnant #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc fanfic #ghost fanfic #the band ghost #ghost bc #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #my writing

[lakesbian]

How do you think Alec would have handled getting the Valkyrie treatment? Being made into a puppet in the same way that he did to other people, his sacrificial suicide being subverted by another cape who uses people as tools but in a much more complete and permanent sense, coming back wrong and having his cape identity irrevocably a part of his body and self, and no longer being able to take off the mask, is this anything?

see i've rotated this extensively in my mind before because i think coming up with how a cape's design would turn out if they got glastig uained is a really fun exercise (do that shit to lisa for some Fun eyeball body horror!!) but i'm struggling to come up with what would happen to alec :( the most obvious answer is the crown becoming like. Attached. to his head. but id ont know if that's too far out there. there's also the concept of having his face frozen in a permanent smirking expression but i feel like that would go Too tragically counter to the point of a 'surprise hes back again' au wherein he would be expected to. yknow. realize and experience some of his feelings again at some point. so yeah i'd need someone else to help me figure that one out.

anyway the actual experience of being glastig uained. if i recall correctly in ward brian says it was basically just like waking up feeling like everything from before he died was just a few days ago not Years ago so i don't think alec would care that much that someone was using his ghost or whatever for shit while he was dead, relative 2 all the other problems in his life. wouldnt even notice with the type of shit hes got going on. the big reason why this au doesn't really work is that it's just Wildly Unproductively Depressing. it seems like ciara only starts bringing random people back by the time aisha is like. what. 20?

it works Fine and Actually Thematically Interesting Well that brian is like oh FUCK youve GROWN UP when he gets back because it's relevant 2 their sibling dynamics. but it does. it does not work if alec gets back and aisha is like 20. it's just depressing. from alec's PoV it would be "congrats you've been brought back into a world where your best and only friend is too old and character-developmented for you to actually have a close connection with even though for you it feels like she was still your age only a few days ago and also your fucking shit ass siblings are here too and btw the world ended so all of the nice luxuries you were enjoying previously are not options anymore. go feed the earth gimel sheep boy." and from aisha's perspective her best friend would be back but in a monkeys paw way where he did not get to grow up with her and he's still little and sad and fucked up and more like one of his siblings that she's caring for/trying to help vs the equal best friendship she Wants but Can't Have because he is Fifteen. so now everything sucks and is sad for everyone involved. :(.

i would say "on the 'up'side this is a hot new contender for scenarios wherein lisa could feasibly decide alec is her new sopping wet fixer-upper" but she already has an even more absurd and unstable option (that one cop) so as usual alec remains background. btw he would be offended on taylors behalf that lisa had replaced taylor with victoria (who he does not like because shes annoying) and entirely oblivious that taylor had ever thought or said anything about him being sucks and utterly lacking in interiority. AUs that have potential to be funny wrt alec's interactions with the other undersiders but are wildly fucking depressing when you get to his interactions with aisha.

if we fudge a bit and say ciara brings him back like riiight after gold morning aisha would only be a bit over a year older than him so that's more doable in terms of character development and eventual reconnection but it'd still be a mess. i'm not articulating my explanation of how aisha's character development works rn and i don't feel like saying something wrong so i'll just leave it here but trust me it'd still be a mess. maybe an interesting one but a mess

#ask #worm spoilers #scarf don't look

[floor031]

re my last rb: my ranking of nami's favourite partners for general illegal activities whenever they hit a new island, pre & post-timeskip, including but not limited to:

swindling

scamming

small-scale grifting

gambling (& therefore cheating at gambling)

small-scale heisting (ones that require infiltration or more subtlety than usual)

ok let's go

pre-ts (pre-grand line):

zoro - it's so fun to get dramatic with him. he's very perceptive, he always plays along no matter what, he knows when to push the intimidation (and is very good at it. eternal attack dog privilege ftw) & when to dial back. he also knows nami best/longest out of them, though that quickly stops making a difference in most contexts

usopp - OBVIOUSLY!! he is quite literally perfect in every grift you can think of. the only problem is that he starts fumbling when the other party at, say, the casino gets a lil too threatening/seems to be catching on. whereas nami (& zoro) chase the adrenaline he doesn't like to toe the line TOO much.

sanji - automatic 3rd b/c she gets annoyed with how he can't function when a hot woman so much as breathes his way (she doesn't even scam other women! not when she can help it!) or if it's a grift that requires him to get the least bit touchy with her. but he IS objectively GOOD at it.

GREAT WALL OF CHINA

400. luffy - she does not let him grift OR gamble with her. subtlety of a fucking toddler. derails every single grift/mini heist. NEGATIVE poker face, ESPECIALLY when he's actively trying. when she's forced to bring him along though he always notices something she hasn't because he is bizarrely perceptive like that, he just doesn't really care. unfortunately this also means he doesn't always care to inform her about what he observes. (luffy: "but you told me to keep quiet!!") he also has really good luck so if he manages to stay quiet and not attract attention he can act as a good luck charm. however that is impossible

(later) pre-ts:

usopp - everything stays the same AND he's getting better at keeping his cool. what's not to love. this is their bonding activity

zoro - nami has learned the hard way that they both CANNOT take themselves seriously for long when they are required to get touchy. he's also demoted bc he refuses to part with his swords, which is really quite inconvenient if she wants him to be her partner for, say, a gala dinner they're sneaking into.

sanji - still 3rd but a closer 3rd now!! stay strong sansan!! more on earlier, grifting with him isn't as effortless/fun as it is w usopp or zoro but that is in no way due to lack of skill on his part. he's not just good at landing a cover; he's strategic like zoro and flexible like usopp. plus, he just FITS into a high class setting with the seamlessness that neither usopp nor zoro have which makes him very, very useful for grifts requiring more formality. however due to his also aforementioned flaws he cannot hit top 2 im (not) sorry...... ALSO! this is partly bc im so sanamipilled but i do think that she's grown to enjoy the touchiness sometimes - and now she can admit it to herself. 's a fun little excuse for her to indulge sanji a bit, especially if their mark for the night is easy

robin - she is last bc she is usually simply not interested in all that. however she will creep people out with her general aura when needed!

post-ts:

usopp - everything is just so easy with him x2. they fall back into their dynamic and it's perfect and even BETTER than before because they're both a little out of practice after 2 years, but they've also both got new tricks up their sleeves. they don't get as many chances TO grift anymore in the new world though. always onto the next big adventure. plus now she's notorious enough that people actually RECOGNISE her in bigger cities/towns (she's not too happy about this)

sanji - he's been promoted :) but also demoted especially freshly post-ts bc of fishman island related crimes.

zoro - he doesn't let nami convince him into grifting with her anymore :-(( but if nami still requires someone to stand menacingly behind her as she extorts some rando then [mbappe voice] He Will Be There No Matter What

luffy stays the same :p

chopper is too young to be engaging in these activities & franky and brook are wayy too conspicuous. jinbei just joined they do not have the time for that shit yet. also i havent read beyond wano

#op #one piece #strawhats #straw hat pirates #east blue crew #nami #usopp #zoro #sanji #luffy #robin #qin poast

[snitchesnsneeds]

After too much stalling, I finally finished the other half of Miraculous Season 2. Here's my thoughts episode-by-episode:

Zombizou: The episode focused on Ms. Bustier. Honestly I get where she's coming from in that statement to Marinette. This is a world where people can become butt-ugly abominations because they felt upset, although I think Chloe still needs consequences for her actions as well as something like positive reinforcement. She had plenty consequences in season 1. Speaking of Chloe, That Asshole was wrong. There was clear intent for Chloedemption. Also could we at least have seen all that stuff Ms. Bustier does in previous episodes?

Syren: This was an episode the salters talked loads about, and honestly, I get where Adrien's coming from here. On a fundamental level the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculi aren't equals due to the Ladybug's magic reset button, but as one of the first Miraculous users, Adrien should've still been let in on the loop. Kid felt like he was useless, that Ladybug could save the day without his help. At the very least have Master Fu go one-on-one or have both kids show up while transformed or blindfolded. Also the water voices ticked me off, but that's relatively minor.

Frightningale: A fun character-of-the-week episode, especially since I'm fond of Clara Nightingale's constant rhymes and rhythm. She's dedicated to it and I love it. It's also good to see Chloe be an exceptional and talented dancer! It's good to see her having talents and interests that aren't just making people suffer!

Troublemaker: Another episode showing why I think Marinette and Adrien shouldn't date in any of their forms. I don't know enough about stalker shrines but I think Marinette's room is getting close enough to be one for Adrien. Though I'm pretty sure Adrien's seen worse or has been conditioned to not care, based on his reaction at the end. Still a shame that the local TV show had to live-film Marinette's room and beach her privacy in the local city-town of Paris while the real Paris has been converted to an amusement park for tourists. You got any other reasons why the population is so low? One more thing: I'm pretty sure the lack of ladybug-vision was more due to anxiety over losing one of her earrings and the difficulty of the villain more than anything else.

Anansi: I find the new heroes good, personally. They give more screentime to other characters. Also again with Adrien's insecurity about being useful. And I think this episode would've been over sooner if they noticed that Anansi was going to get herself akumatized over the stress and maybe just let her come or something. Or if they got Marinette to arm-wrestle her instead. Marinette has muscles, right?

Sandboy: A lore episode, mostly. The nightmares were funny for a second and I was a bit annoyed by the Akuma's voice, but that's small potatoes. I like how compared to season 1, where we would be given a bunch of development for Sandboy it's just explained to us afterwards while we instead get more time for lore.

Style Queen: Hawkmoth has a contender for the most evil character in the show. Audrey Bourgeois is the kind of person that would be made fun of in those Karen freakout videos. She cheats on her husband, neglects her daughter to the point of not remembering her name, fires people over the most minor inconveniences, and starts G-rated killing people over getting a seat in the second row. She needs to be cancelled, deplatformed, and Chloe needs a therapist and better role models. I really liked the split-second of Adrien looking shocked after Marinette told him he had the catwalk down, btw. Did he think his identity was outed there?

Queen Wasp: This is why teenagers shouldn't get superpowers. I get secondhand embarrassment watching them. Also Marinette What The Fuck why the Hell are you getting Chloe to bond with the Absolute Worst Person For Her

Maledictator: This is what happens when you make Chloe bond with a Chernobyl-level toxic influence, Marinette. In general this episode was funny, both intentionally and unintentionally. Everyone starts celebrating Chloe ditching Paris with her mother except Adrien because Chloe was her only friend even though she was a detriment to everyone else and suddenly Marinette feels bad because she worships Adrien. The first thing the villain of the week does is make Audrey stop being such a horrible person and later he made Chat Noir reach the limit of catboyness. It's like a Smiling Friends episode. Also it was cool to see Chloe's depths and self-loathing. Surely that won't be forgotten and Chloe will be given therapy so she can become a better person, right?

Reverser (Put here so it makes sense timeline-wise): It's Yaoi time. Except that Nathaniel is into Ladybug (who I assume he knows is Marinette) here and Marc is fine with that. Overall a good episode. Some nice humor, and Reverser's probably the best akuma design so far I love the paper stuff. Plus more info on the side characters and a spot of good humor, excellent!

Frozer: Ah, there's the Nathmarc. And explicit Julerose. And Marinette getting some idea that her fantasy of Adrien is unhealthy and shouldn't be followed. And Adrigami, albeit a bit one-sided. Quit pining over someone who doesn't love you and get with someone who does, kid. And a smidgeon of Marigami. And Adrien's bodyguard being his daddy in place of his father. And a pinch of me seeing what the salters were talking about with the girlsquad and them forcing Marinette and Adrien together. Or at least Alya and Mylene. I couldn't hear what Alix, Juleka, and Rose were saying, but they disagreed, right? At least one of them had to disagree, right?

Heroes' Day Two-Parter: Marinette you're being too hotheaded against Lila no you gotta be like Columbo. Also yet another Marinette Costanza moment. Otherwise not much to say here. It's the boss rush episode, it's the series finale, Alya managed to catch onto Nino being Carapace but still can't seem to connect the dots between Ladybug and Marinette, the Peacock Miraculous is introduced, and Natalie is on my suslist.

I might procrastinate again on the first half of season 3. The first episode deserves a post of it's own. It's the salt episode.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #adrien agreste #miraculous adrien #ml salt #chloe bourgeois #miraculous chloe #alya cesaire #miraculous alya #miraculous #lukanette #adrigami #nathmarc

[chaidrivenwhore]

this is a product of my inability to stop imagining and a lot of brain beating because college isn't going easy on me.

inspired by a prompt on instagram that had me feral with the possibilities.

also yes, i'm putting it up in parts bc it's more fun that way. this is a cleaned up, edited ver. of what i've posted on IG.

happy reading <3 (under the cut)

"I haven't seen him in a few days, but that's like, normal for him, it's not a big deal, he'll show up when he wants to," said the hero's love interest, as she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at her lover in confusion. "He does this all the time, right?"

The hero hummed in agreement. "I should've known that he's gonna pull something like this. Let's hope the idiot resurfaces with his dumb jokes sooner than later."

The comic relief hasn't been meeting his friends for a week now. If you ask, the hero would tell you that comic was pretty unpredictable and he goes off grid for days on end. Hero's love interest would tell you that despite being best friends, Comic and Hero didn't exactly meet each other often (is it because Hero never really had time for his friend? Is it because Comic never really felt appreciated by Hero? We'd never know, but Hero's lover had her doubts).

The last time Hero and his lover had seen him was on their two year anniversary. Comic had helped Hero organise a little picnic and a pillow-fort-movie date after. That afternoon, Comic had bid goodbye to the couple and told them that he'd be busy the entire next week because apparently 'the education system is a conman and we're all being scammed'.

Hero hadn't thought much about Comic's inactivity, seemingly used to it, but as texts from his best friend were also far and few in between, he grew worried. His lover took great pains to assuage his fears but the only thing that really helped with the stress was fighting Villain.

Villain was an enigma. His motives were virtually unknown, considering the man always kept spewing bullshit about how he loves a little touch of public nuisance because it's fun. Hero's main vendetta against Villain was due to the latter's penchant for being an annoyance to society. Villain had once set fire to all the staff rooms of the city's schools at night, forcing the institutes to shut down for a week for a renovation. The media uproar was insane and Hero was hounded by journalists for weeks because of his late arrival to the scene of crime (not his fault- he had assignments to finish. Post-graduate studies aren't easy. Real life sucks).

Time went on and so did Villain's terror- and in a bid to protect the city from him, Hero devoted more time and resources to attempt capturing him. Somewhere, even Hero forgot that he hadn't heard from Comic in over a month.

That evening, after his latest stunt (minor bank robbery, because the manager had challenged every criminal in the city by bragging about his brand new security measures and Villain loves taking annoying people down a notch), he returned to his lair, feeling hopelessly empty, of sorts. Of course, the fight with Hero was everything he needed to scratch the itch that'd been taunting him for days, but something was missing.

He pulled up the news coverage of that day's mayhem. Something.... something is missing. I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

His thoughts screeched to a halt when he noticed the lack of someone's presence. Almost in a frenzy, he began opening tabs of footage and media coverage of his fights with the hero of the past month. He's - Comic- what? Where's Comic? What?!

Villain would be the first to admit that apart from the occasional lawlessness and laying waste to the city (because property damage is infinitely more satisfying than bodily harm), his main source of childlike joy was seeing Hero gawp like a fool when his friend, the comic relief exchanged beautiful quips with Villain. He also wouldn't exactly tell you this, but the sheer glee of meeting someone who gives as good as he gets is unparalleled.

Like this one time, amidst a cute little Italian bistro that was then in ruins after the initial scuffle, Villain was delivering his prepared monologue because Hero actually gives him time to speak (which, personally, he thinks is fucking stupid). He'd just finished making a powerful statement about serving real justice when Comic had blinked, and giggled (the cute guy giggled) then said, "The only thing you're serving right now is spaghetti with a side of bloodied shoulder. I don't see how that's a good look on you."

Hero had then tried to shush his friend, a horrified look on his face, but Comic gave him a face that suggested that he's taking none of that and then proceeded to stare into Villain's soul, a goofy smirk gracing his face.

That was it. Villain was falling in love.

Not a day goes by where Villain hopes that he could ask the cute funny guy out on a cute little date without the whole 'i'm a bad guy and you're the good guy's best friend-slash-comic-relief' situation.

But fact remained that Comic hadn't been seen for over a month and as far as Villain was concerned, that's a month too long. He growled to one of his men, "Get me the city's surveillance footage of the past month."

The henchman was confounded. "But sir, I don't see why-"

"I don't pay you to question me, boy, do what I said. Now!" he barked, his displeasure and confusion shining through. The henchman (his name is Steve) slowly backed away and was leaving with a frown.

Maybe I was too harsh. With this thought in his head, Villain called out, "Steve, my good man, forgive me for snapping at you."

Steve bowed his head almost reverentially and smiled. "Don't ask for forgiveness sir, I respect you immensely. I will get you the footage you require."

"Thank you, Steve. If you could hurry."

Villain sighed, not knowing what to think or expect. He understands the impasse he's at - his rival's best friend is missing, but Hero seemingly doesn't give a shit, or he's unaware (debatable). The only one who was mildly concerned was Hero's girl and Villain's sure that even she'd given up. He doubts that Hero has any other friends, making it weirder that he's not turning the city upside down looking for his best friend.

It's almost like he's the only one who is trying to do something about all this, albeit late.

Steve came back with a tablet with the footage and handed it to Villain. "Do you need me to get you anything else, sir?"

"A cup of tea, no sugar, please."

"Yes sir, right away."

Villain settled down to examine the footage. It was gonna be a long night.

\\\

this was part one, lmk what you think (ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

#gidfics #anyway i wrote smth #hero and villain #plus a comic relief who needs rest