#it really is the loudest way to tell the world I not only have issues with my dad but I also have a dead mom

[starlightaxolotl]

I’m reevaluating the timeline that brought me to where I am today and I’d like to point out the two biggest dates being the revival of my fnaf phase and my Michael Afton Become Blorbo moment are both tied to dates heavily associated with my mom and I think that says a lot

#it really is the loudest way to tell the world I not only have issues with my dad but I also have a dead mom #Michael is my comfort blorbo #I know this bc I know the focus started immediately after watching that one animation #and the fnaf fixation came back hard with SB and I know when I started watching coverage for that #iconic

[persphonesorchid]

Orbiting Jupiter - KNJ

Summary: Namjoon has never met someone like you in a long time. Jupiter to his Ganymede; he's stuck in your orbit.

Warnings: Lots of anxiety on Namjoon's part, mentions of being stalked, Namjoon hurts himself more than anything bc he's clumsy. Smut (Minors begone.): Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, light spit play, Namjoon's daddy kink is a brief topic of interest lol. I think that's all, let me know if i missed any!

Word count: 13.4k

Genre: Idolverse, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst (it's not much, promise :)) Smut

Notes: FINALLY FINISHED!! This would have been out a whole lot sooner, but i've been dealing with life, stress, a breakup...more stress lol. But it's all good now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and please leave feedback, even if it's just a little smiley face in the comments! Have a good day!!

Masterlist

Namjoon is dressed casually enough, he thinks. Inconspicuously enough that he won’t be recognized, enough that he could become another face in the crowd; enough to blend in.

It’s early, but the city is bustling with people starting their day. He tries not to be suspicious, as much as he could. Tries to navigate a city he’s been in many times before like he’s lived there his whole life. He tries not to look over his shoulder too much, guard up, like he’s just waiting for someone to run up to him and demand his attention. The mask and hat he picked out before he sneaked out of his hotel room brought him little comfort. He hopes that no one would give him a second glance or look too closely.

To this day he’d never understand how his fans can tell him apart by the way he walks, or by his eyes alone. So, he keeps his head down, hands in his pockets, and tries not to think too much about his stride.

He’s not sure what he’s looking for, what he’s doing out of his hotel room so early. He has no schedule today, free to do what he likes, and he just needed to get out for a minute or two. He wasn’t planning on straying too far, especially since he’s told no one that he was leaving. He found himself just walking, though, enjoying the sights and the people leading simple lives.

He finds a little café after walking some more, and stands outside it, out of the way of the door to avoid being an issue. It’s crowded inside, and anxiety curls in his stomach as he contemplates going in. He believes no one would recognize him, he hopes that no one would look too long, and he steps inside.

It’s a bit quieter than he expected, people talking in low murmurs amongst themselves. The loudest things being the sound of a coffee grinder running and a barista calling someone for their order. It’s a small café, more dining space than workspace, and Namjoon wanders over to the resister and orders without issue.

His eyes trail over the other patrons, everyone absorbed in their own worlds and conversations. The table he eyes quickly gets taken while he collects his iced Americano and he sighs softly, despite the amount of people in, he doesn’t want to leave yet, and the only available spot to sit comes with another person. Namjoon weighs his options. He could go outside, find a little park to sit in and drink his coffee, or he could risk it here, where someone has yet to pay him any mind. It’s been so long since he’s been able to walk freely, he knows he’ll miss it when he goes back through the front door.

So, with cautious steps, he walks over to the table with the only available seat.

“Excuse me...” Namjoon softly calls, briefly contemplating on tapping your shoulder; you’re reading a book, and he knows well how easily one can get lost in those. You look up though, the tiny furrow between your brows gives way to your confusion, as well as the little humming sound you make. “Sorry...do you mind if I...”

Namjoon motions to the chair across from you, and you look at it and then back to him for a few seconds before realization blooms in your eyes.

“Oh! No, of course...just...go ahead.” Your smile is pretty, Namjoon notes, and he realizes, as he thanks you and sits, that you recognize him. You stare at him in a knowing kind of way, and before Namjoon can up and leave, you simply smile the way you had before, as though he was any other stranger wanting to share your table. He watches with bated breath, trying to stay calm just in case, and you just go back to reading your book.

There’s no fanfare, no freaking out and drawing attention, or asking for a photo and too invasive questions. You don’t even look at him again. The sound of you flipping the pages of your book melds into the background noise of the space, and Namjoon finds it strange. He thanks his stars, though, he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk losing his head.

He relaxes when you continue to pretend he isn’t sitting in front of you, your eyes following the words on the page. There’s a tap of your fingers against the wooden tabletop, and a minute shake of your head before you close your eyes for a moment. You take an agitated breath, and Namjoon pauses the movement of him trying to get the straw underneath the bottom of his mask and watching you at the same time. He tries to peek at the cover of the book you’re reading, curious.

You shake your head again, muttering to yourself before going back to reading, your expression quickly blanks as you start back up again. Namjoon sips his coffee, for once feeling relaxed in a room full of strangers and lets his eyes trail elsewhere. Over to the little potted flowers that line the windows, or the people passing outside.

There’s a sudden squeak from you and Namjoon looks at you in time to catch the look of utter disbelief on your face. With frantic fingers you fish a bookmark from the back pages of the book before marking your spot and closing the book with a soft smack. Gently, with enough care that someone would think you’re handling glass, you place the book onto the table with a sigh and pick up your drink. You still don’t look his way, sipping at your drink with a frown and an irritated draw to your brows. Not that Namjoon is complaining, he swears he isn’t. It’s just...weird. He expected you to at least sneak a glance by now.

Curiosity should be a cardinal sin, as it’s gotten him into trouble more times than he could count, but Namjoon decides to dig his own grave anyway.

“What were you reading?” He asks, and it takes a moment, you’re clearly in your head, staring off at nothing and muttering into your drink. You look at him when his words finally break through.

“Huh? Oh...” You set your cup down, turning the book to him, “'The Desolation of Devil’s Acre'. It’s the last book of a series I’m following, and the main character is just...” You sigh through your nose, “He’s an idiot.”

You talk to him like any stranger, it almost made Namjoon think that you didn’t recognize him at all. He still sees it in your eyes, and as you’ve been adamant not to, he doesn’t address it either.

“I’d bet...” Namjoon chuckles, “If your reaction was anything to go by.”

There’s an embarrassed air about you now as you let out a soft laugh. Namjoon wants to smack himself though, he’d just told you that he’s been staring at you long enough to notice.

“Ah, yeah.” You wave a hand, “I bought it earlier...I was too excited and just got into it but Jacob is an idiot. He just makes me wanna reach in there and smack him silly.”

“Is it good?” Namjoon nods at the book, taking a moment to look at the cover. It’s black and white, a little girl sits on a black chair, a wall of photos is the backdrop, staring into the camera with big clear eyes and someone’s hand is tugging on the sleeve of the black and white chequered striped dress. It seems like a horror novel if Namjoon is being honest.

“I haven’t read much of this one yet, but the previous ones are amazing. Too bad the movie didn’t follow it correctly.” There’s an excitement in your eyes, and you seem perfectly content to rave about all the ways the movie went wrong and did the book absolutely no justice. Namjoon nods along, throwing questions at you about the books when he can, and by the time you’re done he’s laughing at something, and you are too. His iced Americano is now just an Americano that’s just slightly cold, more water than coffee, but Namjoon doesn’t mind and drinks it anyway. He still hasn’t removed his mask, but you don’t seem too bothered by it.

“It just would’ve been so much better if they’d followed the book correctly. I was so excited about the movie, and they just went and messed it up.” You sigh, taking a sip at your drink, Namjoon’s sure it’s cold by now. “You should give it a read, though...” You tilt your head at him, humming, and Namjoon tilts his head back, you can’t see it, but he smiles, the furrowing of his brows you do see.

“What?” Namjoon asks, a little amused by your sudden pause. You study him for a minute, but he’s comfortable enough in this space you’ve created that it doesn’t set off the usual alarm bells in his head. You’ve done wonders for treating him as just another person. Simply Kim Namjoon, who wandered into this small café and took the seat opposite you, and not RM of a globally recognized pop septet.

“You don’t strike me as a fantasy guy.” You say, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Oh yeah? And what do I strike you as?”

He leans forward a bit, genuinely curious, unintentionally flirty. He does his best to reel himself in, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You take it in stride, though, despite the flush to your cheeks and the embarrassed air that lingers.

“Philosophy, poetry...maybe a bit of romance.” You finally say, smiling a bit.

Namjoon hums, leaning back into his chair, “You know a lot.” He says, but between the string of words lies the unspoken ‘You know me.’. He studies you as you study him, your face betraying no emotion.

You simply shrug, lifting your cup to your lips again, “Human decency.”

Namjoon quite likes your company, and he spends an hour more sitting opposite you, enjoying the sense of normalcy you provide. He wonders what you both look like to onlookers, like two friends who haven't seen each other in a while and are simply catching up. It feels that way for Namjoon.

He sits there until his coffee is finished and yours is too and you’ve tucked your book away and you're both talking again about anything that comes to mind. You don’t ask him about his work, but you ask about what he’s into these days, he recommends books and music he’s sure you’ve never heard of, and you do the same.

Time passes and then some more, and it's enough time for someone to realize that he’s missing. His phone vibrates against his leg right in the middle of him explaining why he thinks some things that happen in life can’t simply be chalked up to coincidences and he startles, leg jerking, knocking his knee against the underside of the table.

It rattles the empty cups topside with a dull thud and a sharp pain shooting up Namjoon’s leg, you wince with him, and he mutters a string of expletives. Rubbing a hand furiously against the offended spot, Namjoon fishes his phone from the pocket of his jeans, not bothering to check who’s calling before he answers.

“Hello?”

“Namjoon-ah, where are you?” Seokjin’s voice is a little far away and a little distracted. He suddenly yells a curse and Namjoon can only assume he’s spent his morning breaking in some new game he bought. “Sejin-nim was looking for – fuck, I hate this game – something about a briefing. You’re not in your room.”

“Ah, Hyung. I took a walk...I’m not far. Yeah – I'm coming back...Okay.” Namjoon glances at you as he pockets his phone again, smiling with his eyes.

You smile back, waving a hand, understanding as he picks up the empty take away cup and stands to leave. There’s no complaint from you, nothing in your eyes that tells of anything else. “It was nice meeting you.” You say softly, leaning forward a bit even though the chances of you being overheard by anyone else was slim.

“You too.” Namjoon says, and he means it. You’re like a diamond in a coal mine, as finding someone like you – being who he is - was rare. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, Namjoon pauses in the step he makes, faltering at your side and you look up at him curious and confused. He wars with himself for a moment, he’s certain that he’s about to do something stupid.

Something he should never do because of how dangerous it could be not only for him but his groupmates. He stares at you for a moment, long enough that it warrants your concern, and you ask if he's okay.

“Can I... Is it okay if I ask for your number?” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can reel them in, and he’s standing there a little mortified.

Namjoon always prides himself in being self-assured, but that same self-assurance leads him to putting his foot in his mouth sometimes and he says things without thinking first. It’s too late to pull the words back or act like he hadn’t asked because you’re blinking up at him, sitting a little straighter now in your seat.

You glance around, brows furrowed, “Are...are you sure?”

For the first time, it seems as though it just registered that you’re speaking to RM of BTS.

There’s a nervousness about you now, as you glance to the side, and Namjoon finds this strange. He’s not trying to sound like an ass thinking that many others would jump at the offer – or be bold enough to demand it first – it’s simply the truth.

He finds your consideration refreshing, though, and he waits patiently for you to make up your mind. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and Namjoon backtracks, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Namjoon says, putting up a hand. Despite who he is in the eyes of the public; he’s still a man. A man you’ve only spoken to for a half hour who’s now asking for your number, Namjoon would think very hard about it if he were in your shoes, too.

“I don’t meet a lot of people like you, and I thought it would be nice if we spoke often, but if that’s not cool, that’s okay.”

You shake your head, “No... it’s okay. I just...Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in any difficult spots, or myself for that matter...”

You’re surprisingly calm, looking more wary than anything else, and Namjoon takes that as a good sign. “I’m sure, don’t worry.” He smiles and pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans; he unlocks it with a press of his thumb and hands it over to you.

You fumble a little with the device, fingers tapping at the number pads quickly before handing it back to him. He shoots you a quick text, a simple ‘Hi :”)' before he was pocketing his phone again before he was waving and making his way out the café door.

Namjoon tries his hardest to keep walking forward back down the street and not jog back over to the glass window to wave at you. That would be very weird of him.

Namjoon’s day goes on as normal, not like he was expecting anything different. A whirlwind of briefings and meetings and discussions on what would be done during his group’s free time. It's no different to any other time, but by the end of the day Namjoon’s brain feels like mush and he’s lying in bed, palms under his head as he gazes at the swirling patterns etched into the ceiling.

He sighs, it’s long, drawn out and tired. He blinks slowly, sitting up to lean against the headboard. The sun had long set and only the glow of the city lights penetrated the darkness of his hotel room through the large window.

He squints at the lights that are too far off to be anything but hovering blobs in the distance, and briefly, he wonders what you’re up to.

Oh, that’s right.

Namjoon fumbles through the mess of his sheets to find the phone he knows he tossed there somewhere. It’s nowhere near him and he stands, lifting the sheets to look. There’s a dull thud and a clatter, and with a sigh, Namjoon rounds the bed to find his phone on the floor.

He plops back on the bed, pressing the power button and inspecting the screen for cracks. There’s a flurry of notifications and emails and texts from his group mates and work, and Namjoon scrolls through his notification feed. At the bottom, he finds a text from you; a reply to the message he’d sent earlier.

‘Hi (:’

It’s cute in its simplicity, but Namjoon stares at the place where your contact information sits. Just your number and nothing else, and Namjoon comes to the realization that he didn’t ask you for your name at any point this morning.

You had responded hours ago, and had sent nothing else, and with some embarrassment, Namjoon types out a message.

Namjoon: Hey, sorry I missed your text! Busy day, you know?

He frowns at the message when it goes through, at the time stamp that reads a little past midnight. You’re probably asleep and the timing seems a little less than ordeal, a little inappropriate given the hour, but Namjoon lets out a surprised hum when the bubbles appear at the bottom.

Unknown: Hey! No worries, it’s totally okay.

Namjoon: You’re up late...

Namjoon pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, was that a weird thing to mention? He can’t help but feel like he’s blowing this somehow. Is there a right way to text someone you barely know? He shakes his head, deciding not to think too much on it.

Namjoon: Sorry, but I didn’t ask your name earlier.

Unknown: Haha, that’s okay. It’s Y/n. And yeah, I was just finishing up some work.

Namjoon contemplates his next question, nerves running amok in his tummy.

Namjoon: Can I call you? Is that okay?

The bubbles appear and disappear for a moment and Namjoon thinks he’s overstepped. It’s pushing one in the morning and Namjoon’s aware of how it may look to you, how it may look to anyone else for that matter.

Y/n: Sure, we can do that.

Namjoon sighs, looking out the window, away from his phone to give himself a moment. You too – he’s mindful of himself, of course. He taps on the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

The line rings for a couple seconds, and Namjoon thinks that maybe you’ve stepped away for a minute or perhaps this was the wrong move and he shouldn’t have asked, but you pick up before another ring could sound. It’s quiet for a second and then he hears you inhale softly.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds a little different over the phone, or maybe it's just the time and Namjoon’s mind is trying to go places it shouldn’t. You’re as calm as you were this morning in the cafe, nothing in your voice betrays your emotion.

“Hey.” Namjoon can’t help the smile, and he’s sure you heard it in his voice. “I know it’s late, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good. I had a coffee so I’ll be awake for a while again.”

Despite your words your voice sounds tired and Namjoon feels guilty, laying back against the headboard with a soft sigh.

He asks about the book you’re reading and he listens to your rambles about the chapter you finished. Then you both talk about anything that comes to mind.

“How’d your day go? You don’t have to be too specific or anything, just in general.” You murmur softly, when Namjoon’s laying down fighting to keep his eyes open because he doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“Hectic.” He answers honestly, he can hear you shuffle around, getting comfortable in your sheets. “You?”

“It was alright, I spent half the morning freaking out, really. Today felt a little dream-like. If you hadn’t texted, I probably would’ve convinced myself that I imagined the whole thing.” You chuckle, and then there was a small pause, “Sorry, I’ve been so chill about it this whole time.”

“You’re fine. Handling it better than most.” Namjoon says, “I’m glad you didn’t freak out when you met me though.”

“Human decency.” You repeat your words from earlier, and Namjoon feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You’ve probably had enough of that to last you a lifetime.”

“It’s not too bad, sometimes anyway.” He says softly, halfway asleep and he’s sure you are too. Your voice is getting quieter, and Namjoon can’t keep his eyes open.

When Namjoon wakes it’s to the sun shining into his eyes and his phone is still in his palm. It’s a little after eight am when he checks, and the call had already been disconnected sometime around seven. There’s a message wishing him a good morning from you, there’s a flutter in his tummy at the little yellow heart that ends the text, and he thinks it may be a little too early for that kind of response. He can’t help it though, and he lays in bed for another few minutes and stares at it with a stupid smile on his face.

He wonders what to do with his day, now with more than enough free time on his hands to do whatever he likes and then he wonders what you were doing today. There’s an all-consuming longing for the sense of normalcy you provided within the day he’s known you, and he knows that isn’t much time to find comfort in a person, but he guesses that’s just how it is when you live like he does. However, he doesn’t want to scare you away with his need to feel something that was long lost to him, so he puts off asking you anything.

He has a few things lined up on his personal itinerary: Museum crawls and sightseeing, all of which he would do alone and hopefully without any troubles along the way. He finally decides to bite the bullet when he’s done with his breakfast and sitting at the small table in his hotel room, fiddling with his phone and his bottom lip between his teeth. You hadn’t replied to his responding text from earlier and Namjoon can only assume you’re busy, but he texts anyway.

Namjoon: Are you busy today?

He locks his phone and cleans up the table, snatching his phone up when it chimes softly, smiling already.

Y/n: Not particularly…why?

Namjoon could never distinguish tone from texts, so he’s not sure if you’re suspicious or teasing, so he replies carefully.

Namjoon: I’m doing a thing today…some sightseeing or I might go to a museum…wanna come with?

The bubbles disappear and reappear and then you’re calling.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t feel obligated to either.” Is the first thing he says when he answers, just to be certain.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’d love to. I just need to know if it’s okay.” There’s a hesitance in your voice, a certain type of worry.

Namjoon is quick to ease, “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t, Y/n.” He says with a chuckle.

“Ah, okay.” You laugh a little, “Oh but what about...do I have to sign an NDA?”

Namjoon pauses, he’s forgotten about that. He runs a hand through his hair, “Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.” There’s a smile in your words and Namjoon can’t help but smile back. “Where do I meet you?”

Namjoon sat across from his manager, Sejin, in his hotel room. He clears his throat, feeling a bit nervous about what he was going to ask.

“Sejin,” Namjoon begins, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sejin, always attentive to Namjoon’s needs, leaned forward. “Sure, what’s on your mind, Namjoon?”

Namjoon hesitated for a moment before continuing, “There’s a friend I met recently, and I was hoping to bring her along with me when I go to the museum today.”

Sejin raises an eyebrow, his protective instincts kicking in. “A friend? Are you sure that’s a good idea, Namjoon? You know how public spaces can get, especially with a girl by your side.”

Namjoon nods, understanding Sejin’s concern. He’s well aware of how things can get, being who he is, especially in the eyes of some of his fans. “I know, Sejin. She's a good friend of mine, she won’t cause any trouble.”

Of course, Namjoon doesn’t know that for sure, but he’s willing to take the risk, and Sejin doesn't need to know he'd only met you yesterday; what he doesn't know won't kill him. One thing he’s certain of is that you’re different, and that’s something he can bet on.

Sejin contemplates for a moment, silent as he thinks before sighing. “Alright, Namjoon. I trust your judgement. But we need to take some precautions. We’ll have her sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure our privacy and safety.”

Namjoon smiles, relieved that Sejin was willing to accommodate him. “Thank you.”

Namjoon paces in the hotel lobby an hour later, nerves making him unable to stand still for too long. He had met you just a day ago, but there’s something about you that intrigued him deeply. The way you’ve treated him like a regular person, not as the famous musician he was, is perhaps the biggest factor. He found that both fascinating and endearing.

Moments later, you walk into the lobby, looking a bit nervous yourself. You smile when you spot him, lifting your hand in a little wave. Your smile immediately puts Namjoon at ease. You’re wearing a simple dress, a backpack slung over one shoulder, walking over to him in quick steps.

“Hey.” You stop once you’re close enough, still smiling.

Namjoon smiles back, feeling a sense of relief. “Hey, Y/n Thanks for coming.”

You wave him off with a hand, looking around at the large lobby, the lights sparkling in your eyes.

Sejin is waiting at a table near the reception desk, and stands to shake your hand when Namjoon leads you over.

You take a seat and go through the formalities with him, and sign the NDA without complaint. Namjoon can’t help but feel a little worried, like he’s turning your life on its head by knowing him personally.

Namjoon watches the scenery pass by through the tinted glass of the car Sejin rented, the small talk died down as he pulled into the carpark of the museum. He leads you through the private entrance, where the manager meets you both with an enthusiastic greeting.

The museum is empty, and Namjoon catches the wonder in your eyes when he looks at you. “You rented out the whole place?”

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, I normally do. It’s more so for safety than anything else.”

You hum, nodding in understanding as you trail next to him. “It’s pretty cool, I’ve never been in one while it’s empty before.”

The private tour begins, and Namjoon’s knowledge and passion for art shines through as he explains the significance of each piece, trying his best to keep you entertained. You listen intently, genuine interest evident, even asking questions in between his rambling.

“You know,” You say, staring at a painting of abstract colours, “This is not at all how I imagined this to go.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He’s long stopped paying attention to the art that lined the walls, admiring you, mostly. “Oh? What did you imagine?”

You shrug, turning your head to look at him, a playful glint in your eye. “Well, I expected bodyguards, and a bit of running around. This is nice, though.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, I would usually have someone close by, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You frown a bit, “Isn’t that dangerous though? You should have someone nearby regardless.”

“Your comfort is important.” Namjoon says, trying to keep you from worrying too much.

“Your safety is too, you know.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you he’s right outside?” Namjoon smiles, he could see you’re ready to debunk his words with the way your eyes narrow. “Don’t worry, someone’s near, just not as near as they would be normally.”

You stare at him for a quiet moment longer, “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

As the both of you continued your tour, the conversation between you flowed effortlessly. Namjoon took the moment he had to know more about you. Asking about your dreams, how far you’ve gotten in that book of yours, and the places you wanted to travel to. He found you easy to talk to, allowing himself to open up to you in a way he hadn’t with many people.

Something in the back of his mind, a learned warning echoed. He really shouldn’t be, considering everything. He chooses to ignore it for now, as you ask him about his favourite pieces of art.

By the time the tour was over and Namjoon actually remembered to take photos of the art, the sun was at its zenith. He tries not to take too long touring, so the museum can at least open to the public for the rest of the day.

You’re scrolling through your phone, looking at the photos you took of the pieces that caught your attention.

“Wanna get some food? There’s a good place nearby.” Namjoon asks, tucking his phone into his jeans.

You nod, smiling, “I can eat.”

Namjoon drives you both to a diner he’d visited once or twice when he was last in this city. The diner was packed for the lunch rush and Namjoon contemplates his next move in the car.

“Oh, that’s...” You glance between him and the view of the people in the diner, “I’ll go, whatchu want?”

“I can go...” You’re already unbuckling your seat belt and leaning down to rummage through your backpack. You find your purse with a soft ‘a-ah!’, smiling at him as you right yourself and turn to him again.

“It’s alright. It’s pretty crowded... you might not be so lucky this time.” You say, “Want anything specific?”

Namjoon smiles at you, shaking his head with a small laugh, “Anything’s fine.”

You nod, opening the door, there’s a rush of warm air that disturbs the AC, and Namjoon is stopping you. “Hang on...”

He sees you shake your head as he reaches for his wallet, and you step out before he can hand you his card.

“You can get it next time.” With that you’re off, and Namjoon watches a little slack jawed as you go.

Something in his chest flips and crawls up his throat, “...next time?”

You come out of the cafe, balancing two cups of something colourful in a cardboard holder and two brown paper bags a good five minutes later. Namjoon leans over to the passenger seat to pop the door open for you, extending his arm to take the holder.

“I got you a smoothie if that’s okay,” You say once you settle, passing him one of the paper bags, “Ham, egg and cheese sandwich.”

“Smoothies are good, thank you,” The smoothie is a mix of some fruit and another he can’t put his finger on. He hums at the sweet taste, “Oh, that’s good.”

For a moment, you both quietly eat, “Thanks for inviting me to come with you. I had fun.”

“Sure you weren’t bored out of your mind?” Namjoon teases, smiling when you reach over to smack his arm lightly.

“I was not!” Your giggle rings like a bell, “I mean it.”

As the days go by and his time in this city draws nearer to an end, Namjoon tries his best to spend as much time with you as he could. He’d text and call when he can and when your time allows it, learning more about you as he went along and liking you more as he did. He felt strange for the most part, as his two-week break comes to an end and he’s packing his things away and double checking that he doesn’t forget anything or pack something that isn’t his. His phone is propped up against the bedpost, distracted from folding his clothes by the view of you coming back into the frame.

“You’ll be busy once you get back, right?” You ask, sipping juice through the straw of a juice box.

Namjoon sighs, “Yeah, I’ll try my best to keep up with you, though.”

“You don’t have to.” You wave him off with a hand, “You’re a busy guy.”

“Would you miss me?” Namjoon asks, curious, because he’ll miss you. Is it normal to feel this way about someone you’ve known for only a short while?

“Nah.”

“Ow.”

“I’m kidding.”

Namjoon rolls his suitcase behind him, taking a moment to wave at the paparazzi and the fans that litter the terminal. He grips his phone tightly in his free hand, smiling at the cameras. He’s slept a little on the plane over, and even though he’s wide awake now he knows he’ll crash later. His phone buzzes in his hold and he briefly glances at it, he texted you right before he landed, and was eagerly awaiting your response.

He waits until he’s seated in the car at the entrance, he waves one last time through the window before he rolls it right up and settles into the leather seat of the car. The silence is soothing and Namjoon watches as the people outside filter away now that he’s inside.

Y/n: Hope your flight went okay!

Namjoon studies the text for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was a little worried, honestly. He likes you, a lot, really, but what if it was simply in passing? A fleeting moment of interest? What if it all amounts to nothing in the end all because you’re you and he’s him? It’s easier to date within your own circle, to be with people who understand the complications and compromises that come with being with someone like him. He feels as though now, with an ocean between you both, everything will simply fade away. He’s known you barely two weeks, and even though he’s let you in, and you him, Namjoon can’t help his growing anxiety at the thought. Funny it occurs to him now that he’s back home.

Namjoon: It did!

He stares out the window for a bit, watching the familiar streets zoom by and shakes his head. When was the last time he actually felt like this? Meeting people is hard enough, and meeting someone like you is even harder. He’s seen and met a lot of people over the years, over his time as RM of BTS, a lot of fans who he thought beautiful and never pursued. He knows what comes of relationships between an idol and a fan, he’s seen it happen and it’s always a disappointment to be used like that. But he doesn’t want to put you in that box, he has no right to when you’ve shown him differently. Though, he’s in his right mind to keep an eye out for tabloids and articles of the things he’s shared with you and he also feels guilty that he does. He’s only known you for a short time, something he constantly has to remind himself of when he’s thinking too hard, but that level of trust is something he’s willing to work towards with you.

Namjoon’s days blur together into the weeks as they would when he’s too busy to do anything else but what’s required of him. Meetings here and there, album preparations; work. As he promised, he tried his best to keep up with you, and even on the days where all he could do when he comes home is pass out wherever he sets himself, you text or call to make sure he’s doing okay with it all. Sometimes it’s too early for you to consider being awake or it’s late at night and you’re too tired to keep your eyes open and Namjoon could barely understand what’s coming out of your mouth.

As the weeks meld into months you both found a routine that works best, and Namjoon finds things to do with you when you’re both free at decent times. Maybe you’ll watch a movie or play games together or simply catch up on things you’ve missed.

Namjoon never really has much to tell, most of his days are filled with work and despite his reputation for spoilers, he’s trying his best to keep things under wraps. You do most of the talking, you never seem to mind it much – smiling with a certain understanding – and Namjoon is always happy to listen about what you did that day or your workplace gossip.

He’s found it impossible to get you out of his head and focus more often, thoughts of you invading his mind more than anything else.

Even now as he tries to focus on putting a track together, he’s barely with it, phone propped up against a speaker and waiting for you to get back from getting some things done. He moved from the living room to his home studio a while ago, determined to get some work done and now just sits and stares at the tracks with a frustrated frown. He squints at the screen, moving some things around and playing the same track over and over.

“Where’re your glasses?”

Namjoon glances at his phone to see you just settling back on your couch, a glass bowl of cereal in your hand. You look cute in blue jellyfish printed pajamas he hasn’t seen you in before, hair pulled up and away from your face and even through the phone screen Namjoon can see it’s still damp.

“They’re…” He thinks for a moment, “…somewhere…”

You chuckle, “You should get those thingies kids and old people put on their glasses so they won’t lose them.”

“Trying to say something?”

“I’m just saying…you either lose them or break them and you can just avoid both by getting the thing. I know contacts are annoying.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, they’re a pain in the ass.” He sighs, pushing his chair away from the desk to spin around and stretch his fingers. “Isn’t it late for you?”

You put another spoonful of cereal in your mouth, turning your hand to look at your watch and hum, “It’s not that late…trying to get rid of me?”

“Never.” Namjoon smiles at your teasing tone, “Sleep is important, though.”

“Says you.” You point a finger at him, “You texted me at three am two days ago.”

“You were awake though, so…you’re losing this argument.” Namjoon laughs as you snap your mouth shut.

You point your spoon at him, “I’ll win next time.”

“Are those new? The pyjamas.” Namjoon asks, propping his chin on his hand, resigning himself to not getting any work done this morning.

“I’ve had these a while, aren’t they cute? There’s a really big jellyfish printed on the back.” You say, setting your bowl down with a soft clink of the glass against the wood of your coffee table.

“Yeah they’re…” Namjoon feels the words stall in his throat as you stand up, the bottoms of the pajamas aren’t long legged pants as he expected them to be. They end just above the middle of your thighs, and you’re giving him quite the show when you turn and come back down. The sight of the cartoonish jellyfish on the back of the top knocks Namjoon back where he’s supposed to be and he pinches the back of his hand.

When you right yourself, sitting back on the couch, Namjoon can’t stop thinking about the rest of you he can’t see.

“What’s with that look?” You ask after a moment of him just staring.

“What look?” Namjoon asks back, and for a second you simply watch him before you huff out a laugh and look away.

“You’re looking at me like you…” You start, eyes moving back to the camera before they flit away again, “Oh, my mum’s calling. I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

Namjoon laughs a bit, nodding as he waves you goodbye, “Sleep well.”

“Ah, fuck.” Namjoon grunts, the muscles of his arm strains and he tilts his head back, sweat trailing down his neck. He brings his arm up and then back down slowly, letting a breath out through his nose, “Shit.”

The music playing through his Bluetooth headphones suddenly fades out, the specific ringtone he set for you plays softly. Namjoon sets the dumbbell down on the floor, pressing a finger against the touchpad of one of the earbuds and answers.

“Hey Princess, what’s up?” He pulls at the end of his tee, fanning the cool ac air against his warm skin.

“Joon, it’s a video call.”

“Oh.” Namjoon pulls his phone from his pocket, waving at you with a smile, “Hi.” He gets off the bench he’s sitting on, propping his phone somewhere safe and sits again.

“Hi…are you – damn give me a warning, won’t you?”

Namjoon looks up at you just in time to catch you looking away, not missing the motion of you biting your bottom lip. He smirks, whether you’re aware of it or not; this is payback. He had a hard time not thinking of you in those short pyjama pants for two days, and even though this was completely unintentional, it was worth your reaction.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Namjoon smiles innocently.

You shake your head, “Anyway…guess what.” He hears the excitement in your voice rather than see as you’ve stepped out of frame and then quickly back in with a bottle of water in hand. There’s a big bright smile on your lips and you seem to be bouncing a bit in place.

“Well someone’s excited.” Namjoon chuckles and you wave at him frantically, “Okay, okay. What?”

You pout, “It’s no fun if you don’t even attempt to guess, you know?”

“There’s like, so many possibilities of my guess being wrong.” Namjoon says and you sigh dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. Killjoy.” You roll your eyes, the action playful, “I’ll be in your area around this time next week.”

It takes a full minute for Namjoon to process and he almost drops the dumbbell on his foot, “Eh?”

“Hyung…I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon whines, flopping back into the couch in Genius Lab. Seokjin pats his back as Yoongi swivels around in his chair to face him, plucking his headphones out his ears.

“That’s a good thing.” Yoongi says, standing to stretch with a groan, “But also…don’t think about it too much. Overthinking doesn’t do you any good.”

Seokjin sighs, shaking his head, “I think it’s good that she’s coming here. It’s a good way to connect, you know?”

“I know, but…”

“It’s different here, right?” Yoongi supplies, sitting back into his chair but he doesn’t turn away, “Feels like you have to run around in secret. And on top of that she isn’t in ‘our circle’, things can get overwhelming for both of you, especially her.”

Yoongi is right, as he usually was. The last thing he wanted was to have his life and the circumstances of it be too much for you to take. Namjoon told the guys about you once or twice, just in case things between you both became more serious than it is now, he didn’t want them out of the loop and have to explain later.

“I don’t want that to get in the way of a relationship should it happen…” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“Alright Joonie, Hyung is gonna explain something so listen carefully.” Seokjin lays a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and Yoongi makes a face at the tone he uses.

“Why do you sound like you’re gonna talk to him about safe sex?”

Seokjin ignores Yoongi, turning Namjoon to face him with his other hand on the other shoulder, looking serious. “Namjoon. You’re more than your celebrity status. You’re a person with feelings and desires, just like anyone else. If you like this girl, don’t let fame be a barrier. If things get hard, do what all the other adults do; sit and talk about it.”

Namjoon nods, “Right. You’re right. Thank you, Hyung.”

“Now, imagine if I wasn’t here to look after you guys.” Seokjin pats Namjoon’s shoulder, one of his rare deep chuckles filling the brief silence. “Just take her to see all the good places, have fun and you can worry about the rest after.”

It’s a day after you arrive in Korea that Namjoon sees you.

He’s meeting you a block away from the place you’re renting for the two weeks you’ll be here. There’s a slight chill in the air as the tail-end of summer pulls the beginning of autumn, and you’ve unintentionally matched him with your dark clothes and hat. You both had been texting the night before and Namjoon promised to take you somewhere nice while you were free.

“Hi!” your greeting is cheerful, and Namjoon returns it, smiling.

“Settling in okay?” Namjoon asks as he pulls off the curb.

He is determined to make the most of every moment you both spent together, showing you all his favourite spots. You both wandered through bustling markets, sampled street food, and visited historic temples.

When the sun painted the sky with lilac and indigo and the moon chased it away, Namjoon parked his car in the carpark of an observatory. The observatory is closed of course, but there’s an event that Namjoon booked tickets for the moment he saw it. You expressed your love for the cosmos many times before, and Namjoon was more than willing to indulge you. At times he would sit and listen to you ramble on for ages, telling him any and everything.

He flashes you a dimpled smile, making sure his black mask and hat were secured before leading you to the park located at the back of the observatory. The park was a large space with sparse trees and shrubbery dotting the field, the trees are wrapped in fairy lights, which are usually on at night time but are off to allow the best view of the night sky. There are winding paths of gravel that goes every which way, and Namjoon picks the one where less people linger, leading you down it with your hand in his.

He leads you through the winding trails and the other people here for the event until he finds a clear spot where you both can sit comfortably without disturbance.

It’s a clear night, the stars twinkling in the sky above. It’s quiet between you for a moment, where you watch the sky and he’s looking at you. His heart pounds in his ears and he doesn’t know what else to do but look away when you suddenly turn.

“What?” You laugh, leaning slightly to nudge his shoulder with yours.

Namjoon laughs softly, knowing he’s definitely been caught and shakes his head, “Nothing.”

You sigh softly, wrapping your arm around his and leaning your head on his shoulder. He wonders how you both seem to people that may glance a little longer, perhaps like a pair of lovers simply enjoying the night in each other’s company.

Namjoon enters the code for his apartment door, the beep and the sound of the door unlocking is loud in the quiet hallway. He lets you enter first, sliding you a pair of house slippers before he leads you further in.

“Ah, don’t mind the mess...it’s not usually like this...” Namjoon scratches his cheek, eyes caught on the mess that is his coffee table. There’re wads of balled up paper strewn about it, lyrics he started and decided there was nothing he could do with them, his journal left open and his little green cactus pen abandoned. A stack of books on the floor that’s yet to be read.

He quickly walks over to tidy it, picking up the stray pieces of paper.

“Don’t worry about it,” You say, and Namjoon realises you’re not even paying mind to it. Attention fully stolen by the various art pieces he has hung on walls and settled into corners.

The living room of his apartment is large, and in an attempt to make it look less empty, it’s his usual place to put whatever catches his eye. Most of them are paintings, canvases filled with colours and scenery, a book shelf that holds none, instead, a display for finely crafted pottery, potted house plants and a tiny brass horse Taehyung gifted him some time ago. There are picture frames of his family, the boys and other abstract things he took himself filling the emptier spaces on the shelf.

Glass pane windows take up most of the wall on the other side of the room, giving a beautiful view of Hannam in all its glittering glory.

Namjoon makes his way into the kitchen, paper balls clutched in his hands and he asks if you want anything. You’ve wandered over to the shelf, looking at all the different pieces, telling him that water would be fine.

“These are really pretty,” you say, turning to him with genuine admiration. “Are all of them authentic?”

“Some of them are.” He says, getting a glass from his cupboard, and then quietly: “Most of those are from small local ceramists, some of them from charity auctions and things like that.”

There’s something surreal in having you a room away, and not making jokes with him through a phone screen. Namjoon finds himself a little at a loss, a lot clumsier than usual as he knocks his shin against the leg of an island stool. There’s a searing heat that climbs its way from the collar of his shirt to flush the skin of his neck and ears.

He sees the smile that curls the corner of your mouth when you glance at him, “Are you okay?”

Namjoon nudges the stool closer to the lip of the island counter – glaring at it as though it walked into his path just to spite him; he forgot it out this morning, it’s his fault really – and nods. “I’m good.”

He reaches you in three strides, passing you the glass of chilled water. You take small sips of it, and Namjoon tracks the motion of your throat as you swallow.

He gives you a little tour, telling you about the art and any little thing you ask after. Namjoon’s thrilled to share this part of his life with you.

When it got a little later, Namjoon stands in the kitchen, watching water boil because it’s the only thing you let him do. He feels a little embarrassed as you stand somewhere behind him, donned in an apron he barely uses. He’d suggested ordering in and in very you fashion, you’d asked when was the last time he had a home cooked meal. Honestly, it was a while ago, when he visited home.

You’d shook your head, listing the times he would call you while he was eating dinner and you eating breakfast and it would always be some sort of take-out.

You gracefully allow him to crack the pasta and put it in the pot, but that was the most of it.

“I won’t be explaining to anyone how you hurt yourself in here.” You say, lowering the heat under steaming tomato sauce. You’re making pasta, he thinks, as you’ve told him that your knowledge on Korean cuisine isn’t enough for you to try your hand at it.

“You wouldn’t have to, I hurt myself all the time.” Namjoon chuckles, “Can I at least help you cut those?” he motions at the small bowl of washed onions, not waiting for an answer, he pulls a knife from the holder at the corner of the island. He knows how to hold a knife without too much trouble, at least.

As you skilfully prepare dinner, the conversation between you both flow naturally. Talking about whatever comes to mind, anything and everything and laughing over stories. You both settle to eat afterwards, and Namjoon can’t stop singing your praises, he’d go halfway to say that you cook better than Seokjin…Maybe he’s just biassed.

After Namjoon washed the dishes – he swore he wouldn’t let you do anything more – you both took your drinks of bottled beers to the living room. Sitting on the couch, and a movie playing on the mounted tv that neither of you pay attention to, far too engrossed in talking to each other; the well of topics never seems to run dry. Namjoon thinks that’s nice, there’s always something to talk about with you, even if you’re just telling him workplace gossip from two weeks ago, or rambling on about a shell you found on a beach when you were nine.

“Oh shoot-” You turn your wrist to look at your watch, the glass face catching the overhead lights. You squint at the time, something Namjoon once made fun of you for, because who has analogue watches anymore? He doesn’t find it in him to laugh at you now though, as the realisation dawns on him before you can say: “It’s really late…”

He checks his own watch without much reason – thirty minutes past midnight – and he frowns, he’s kept you way later than he intended. “Shit yeah, my bad. Sorry I kept you.”

You wave a hand, smiling at him, “No, it’s okay!” You place the half empty bottle of beer on the little black coaster on the coffee table. You stare out at the city for a quiet moment, “How hard is it to catch a taxi from here?” you ask, and then, quietly to yourself: “Maybe I should call an uber…”

It takes Namjoon a fraction of a second for his mind to fumble, trying to grasp at the words uselessly before they tumble out into the air. His mouth moves faster, though, “Or you could just stay here?”

He blinks at you and you blink back, the words hanging in the air long enough that Namjoon wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him, never to spit him out again. He stumbles with his words, dropping them as though the gears of his mind are grinding to a halt, coating in rust. “Um-If th…uh…you don…”

Then, you smile, your cheeks squishing your eyes. “Only if that’s okay.”

“More than.” Namjoon can’t help his smile back; grateful you didn’t mention him tripping over himself. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

Twenty minutes later, Namjoon is digging through his drawers for something for you to wear for the night, the blush that had flushed his cheeks earlier had returned with a vengeance as he thought about the fact that you’re staying the night and would be wearing his clothes. He’s still beside himself, not too sure what to do, because this is so far beyond the two of you being friends and talking through calls and texts.

He settles on a long-sleeved tee shirt and black sweatpants and meets you back in the living room, where you stand at the window watching the lights twinkle down below and in the distance. When he announces his return, you turn, looking a little worried and Namjoon once again wonders if he’s crossed a line somewhere. You smile softly, taking the bundle of clothes from his arms.

“Thank you…” You say, and then, softer: “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Namjoon plants his hands on your shoulder, squeezing gently before he leads you back the way he came, following your steps closely with his own. He stops you right outside the bathroom door, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Namjoon lays awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. You’re sleeping in the room across from him, well, he assumes you’re asleep by now. The clock at his bedside blinks sleepily, but Namjoon finds it hard to let his mind settle.

When you’d come out of the bathroom earlier, a little over thirty minutes ago, you were practically drowning in his clothes. You’d rolled the legs of the pants a few times but it still swam around your ankles and the tee was at least three times your size.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in oversized clothing before. It’s simply the fact that it’s his. It’s been a good few months since he’s met you in that cafe, and a good few weeks since he’s realised he liked you.

It may have happened when you went off on one of your many rambles about something or the other. He’s not quite certain. After spending the entire day with you, Namjoon likes you in his space. Not once have you given him the need to run in the opposite direction, not once have you broken his trust.

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, kicking his feet under the blanket. Making up his mind, he gets out of bed and marches confidently to his door. He pulls it open and the edge of the door hits his toe. He stands for a moment, with his eyes closed, brows furrowed in pain and a hand over his mouth keeping the pained yelp trapped. “...Ow.”

He takes the five steps across the hallway, raises a hand to knock, takes a breath and turns on his heel. He walks a little ways up the hall.

“Okay. C’mon, it’s not that hard.” He mutters to himself, and then looks back at the door, “This is very hard.”

He’s not sure. He’s sure of himself, and his feelings, but...what if you’re not in the same place he is?

“Joon?” You poke your head out the door, and Namjoon startles. “You good?”

You didn’t look like you went to sleep and he woke you up, though your hair is a bit tousled and Namjoon would like to hope that you’d been just as restless as he was.

“Yeah...”

You give him a look that says you aren’t too convinced, “I heard a thud.”

“Oh...” The ache in his toe rings with a dull echo, and he looks down at his feet and then back at you, “Door...I jammed it against my toe.”

Your eyes flicker downward, and even in the dimly lit hallway he could see your amusement. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, happens all the time.”

“I’m concerned at the fact that you think accidentally hurting yourself this often is normal.” You laugh and Namjoon makes his way over to you but stops short and stares up at the ceiling. You’ve ditched the pants he gave you.

“What are we looking at?”

He glances at you and you’re also looking at the ceiling.

“You’re not wearing pants.”

You must’ve caught yourself, because there’s a soft gasp and the shuffling of your feet. When Namjoon brings his gaze back down you’re peeking at him from behind the door.

“Sorry!” You squeak out, “Sleeping in long pants is uncomfy.”

“It’s okay, I sleep naked sometimes so...” Namjoon couldn’t stop the words before they hit the air, and for a moment they simply hang there as you both stare at each other.

“Not that you should sleep naked...I mean – you can if you want to, really, doesn’t bug me at all...” He’s really trying to reign it in here. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping like that. As long as you’re comfortable!”

“Relax,” You laugh, sticking your hand out through the gap in the door and the frame to wave him down, “I’m not sleeping naked. I get cold fast.”

“There’s a solution for that.” Another pause, and Namjoon realises how his words sounded as you raise a brow at him, “The heater. There’s a heater in there. I wasn’t suggesting that I could...”

Namjoon sighs, he really does put his foot right in his mouth. So he does what’s best for everyone and just closes it.

Just when he was beginning to think that this moment would be at the top of his 'Awkward situations you’ve created' list, the gap widens just a bit and there’s something shy about your small smile and the way your eyes stay glued to the floor.

“I wouldn’t mind...” Your words are soft and Namjoon wonders for a moment if he misheard. This is the most shy he’s seen you in a while, looking up at him through your eyelashes, fingers caught in the hem of your borrowed tee-shirt; wringing the life out of the piece you hold.

“Yeah?” His voice is equally as soft, giving you room to change your mind if you so wished. You nod mutely and Namjoon gives you a second more to think carefully, only stepping forward when you step back and pull the door with you.

You leave the door open a crack, so that the light from the hallway bleeds into the darkness, and Namjoon watches as you walk over to the bed and crawl under the blankets.

There really isn’t much to this room, equipped with the essentials and a few nick-knacks and a bookshelf he’d put his other books on because there was no space on his other ones. There was a landscape painting hanging above the headboard, something he put there to give the room a bit more personality.

You’re peeking at him from the blankets, the soft mounds of material hiding most of your face from view. It’s a lot cooler here than his room, though the floor is cold under his bare feet and he briefly wondered if you need socks.

He walks soundlessly over and out of habit, he’s already pulling his tee-shirt over his head but pauses when it hangs on the length of his arms. “Shit – sorry.” He pokes his head back through the neck of the tee, “I run hot so I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on.”

“Is that why you sleep naked, too?”

Namjoon is grateful for the dark as heat runs up his neck. He takes it in stride, though, “Yeah. Clothes are constricting sometimes.”

There’s something else in your voice when you giggle, and there’s a shifting of the blankets. “You can keep it off if you want.”

Namjoon hums, “Are you okay with that?”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Your comfort matters, too.” It’s not as though you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before; you shaded video calls during his workout sessions. Even though most of those are spent with you trying not to look at him – Namjoon’s caught you staring more times than he could count. This is different, though, he reminds himself; you’re no longer oceans away.

“I’m comfortable with it.”

“Okay.” Namjoon pulls his shirt off and folds it neatly, placing it on the nightstand before he climbs into bed next to you.

His side of the bed is cold, but he could feel your warmth just inches away. He turns to face you, lying on his side, finding your eyes in the dark.

“Hi.” You’re already facing him and in the darkness, Namjoon smiles.

“Hi.”

Your toes brush his under the covers and Namjoon hisses softly, “Are you cold?”

“A little...”

“Want me to get closer?” Namjoon whispers, and to his surprise, you move over first.

There’s a slight chill to your skin as you settle, resting your head where Namjoon extended his arm and then, close enough that your legs tangle with his and the ghost of your breath tickles his chest. You smell like him, like watermelon and mint; He’s once again grateful for the darkness.

Namjoon lets his other arm rest in the dip where the softness of your stomach meets your waist. It’s quiet when you both stop shuffling about, and your breaths are a tad nervous on the inhale.

“Okay?” Namjoon tries his best not to disturb the quiet, speaking softly. He feels you nod, and a slow flow of warm air as you sigh.

“You’re really warm.”

Namjoon chuckles, and silently, holds you tighter. He lets his chin rest on the top of your head, your hair tickles his nose. It smells faintly of his shampoo – he’s never loved it more. He wants to stay there forever, wrapped in the sweet, gentle scent of honeysuckle, melon and something uniquely you.

Namjoon wonders – and he knows, there’s no point in dwelling on the thought – what would’ve happened if he’d walked out of the cafe that day. Held captive by his responsibilities and his duty to keep his group and their image as spotless as possible. It would’ve been different had you not been the way you are.

He calls your name softly, and he wonders if you can feel the rapid pace of his heart beneath the warmth of your palm. It kicks against his sternum like he’s been running, and he takes a breath. There’s something unspoken here, in this darkened room where only the walls are listening.

Somewhere along the way, during the days that dragged the weeks into months – somewhere – a line was blurred.

Sleep wraps around your tired hum like a warm blanket, the sound of the sheets shifting further shattering the quiet as you lean back a little to look at him.

He lets his hand find the warmth of your cheek, moving until his thumb is resting against the front of your ear and his fingers are nestled in the softness of your hair.

“Wanna ask you something.” He says.

“What’s it?”

Distractedly, Namjoon’s fingers rub tentative circles in your scalp and catches the way your eyes flutter at the feeling.

He smiles when your eyes open and meet his, with the dark he grows confident, and softly: “Can I kiss you?”

His words hang in the air, heavy with desire and affection. In that moment, the weight of his request carries with it a profound realisation.

It’s not just a simple act of physical connection he seeks, but rather a deeper, more profound expression of love. His request bears the weight of all the emotions, vulnerabilities, and hopes he has placed upon this relationship.

The answer now rests in your hands, and Namjoon waits with bated breath for your response.

“Please.” Your answer dances between you both, and Namjoon angles your head upward slightly, and closes the gap with a tentative kiss. Your lips are soft and taste of mint when he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth. He doesn’t ask for much more, gentle in the way that he pulls you closer, fingers tangling in the soft hair at your nape.

In this moment, there is no need for words. The brush of your skin against his, the sweet taste of your kiss, and the way your bodies gravitate towards each other speak volumes.

Namjoon cherishes every second, every breath shared, as he grows more intoxicated by you.

His heart pounding in his chest, all thoughts of caution and restraint fade away. Giving in completely to his desire and lust, he pulls you close, not wanting this moment to end. The kiss is now an embrace, with both of you giving in fully.

His lips caress yours, his touch slowly becoming more and more intimate. His tongue finds yours, and Namjoon swallows the sound you make.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, you both take in a deep breath. It’s like everything around you becomes blurred, with only the two of you visible.

He runs his hands through your hair, looking into your eyes. He draws closer again, resting his forehead against yours.

He’s quiet, still for a moment, simply watching you in the dark. Your fingers tap softly against his chest, confusion and worry sit on the furrow of your brow.

“What wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, your eyes each and then your forehead where he lingers. “It’s nothing... it’s just...”

“I want you to understand...” He continues softly after a breath, “My life can be overwhelming, it’s hard even for me some days. There’s times when I feel like I’ve worked hard only to get myself trapped in a bottle. Dangling above the view of millions who think I should live my life their way.

It isn’t easy. There’s always a risk that maybe one of us would slip up or something else. Privacy is something hard won and I’d hate for anything to happen that puts you in a position that you’ll regret.”

Namjoon lays his worries bare like cards going all in, focusing on the texture of your hair between his fingers. He allows you a moment to absorb his words, to really think.

The life of an idol isn’t for everyone; so many have cracked under the pressure of it. The life of an idol’s partner does not come any easier. Your relationship would be kept buried like a dirty secret to feed into the delusions of a certain variety of ‘fans’, all for the safety of the people involved.

If by some miracle, or a stroke of good luck, you choose to continue onward despite the challenges it would bring, Namjoon would be eternally grateful and he would spend his days making sure you never regret that choice.

“Joon...” Your hand meets his wrist, curling at his pulse. “I’ve known from the beginning what it would be like. You’ve got fans all over the world who adore you, and who would do just about anything to get close to you. It’s not easy to live a life like that, to be constantly watched and judged.

“But I knew that going in,” you continue. “I may not have expected to fall in love with you, but now that it’s happened, nothing else matters. I know what it’s like to have eyes always on you, and I’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

“You...you love me?” Namjoon's mind feels as though it blanked, though somewhere in the back among the cogs grinding to a halt your words have registered. Right now, he could only tunnel focus on that one thing.

“Oh god.” There’s a smile blooming on Namjoon’s lips as you groan an embarrassed sound, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He laughs softly, leaning back to catch your gaze but you evade him, bringing your hands up to cover your face instead.

Namjoon briefly wonders if this is what a moon orbiting a planet feels like. Ganymede does not question the gravity of Jupiter. It simply orbits the planet, accepting its fate. And Namjoon accepts his fate of being drawn to you. He is not swept up by your presence, but rather firmly grounded, and held in place. His feelings for you are as natural as the pull of gravity, as certain as the rotation of the Earth.

In your presence, everything shifts, and nothing else becomes important. Your gravity becomes his universe, and he is perfectly content to reside in it.

“I love you too.”

You peek at him through your fingers, and Namjoon doesn’t let the moment pass, prying your hands gently away from your face. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your lips, there’s nothing gentle about it this time – all teeth and tongue and quiet sounds that Namjoon swallows. He eases you onto your back with a gentle hand, slotting himself between your legs.

He trails his kisses down your neck, catching the skin with his teeth and sucking to leave his mark. He trails his hand down the length of your thigh, over the band of your underwear and under the soft cotton tee-shirt. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your hip, feeling the warmth of your skin and the way you tremble beneath his touch. He travels further still, up your ribcage to your breasts, feeling the soft curves and the way your nipples harden beneath his caress.

He feels the goosebumps that erupted at his touch, feels the hitch of your breath in your chest. Namjoon sucks a mark against your collarbone, he shifts so that he’s at your side, giving his hand more room.

He traces feather light touches along the expanse of your stomach and you giggle into his kiss. His fingers glide just above the waistband of your underwear, teasing until you whine his name.

Namjoon chuckles as he pulls away, “Can I?”

Words seem like more than you can manage and you nod. Namjoon gives a fleeting kiss, as his fingers dip lower, pushing aside your underwear to find your heat. The arousal clinging to your panties cools rapidly against the back of his hand, and Namjoon dips a finger into the warmth of you.

He keeps his eyes on your face as he does, watching the way your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. He nudges his nose against your cheek and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. He’s barely touching you, keeping his fingers just shy of where he knows you want them the most.

It’s a while of teasing you this way, and Namjoon likes the way frustration bleeds into your soft, breathless moans when he circles your clit with his slick fingers and pulls away. He gives your neck and chest most of his attention, with gentle squeezes and his tongue tracing abstract patterns, drawing your nipples into his mouth with soft tugs of his teeth.

When the next whine of his name comes with teary eyes, Namjoon takes pity on you. The wet, tightness of you makes him groan and he pulls a hissing breath through his teeth, pressing his erection against your hip where he ruts in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He curls them upward, your back bows and he presses the heel of his palm against your clit. He kisses your cheek when your fingers wrap around his wrist, “I got you, baby.”

You gasp, your pleasure mounting until you can’t take it anymore. You writhe beneath his touch as you reach the peak of pleasure, calling out his name as you fall over the edge.

Namjoon gives you a moment to breathe, running his hand along your thighs and tummy. He takes your face in his hands once your breaths evened out, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing in your scent. His lips find yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless.

“Good?”

“Fuck – yeah.” Your fingers tug at his hair and Namjoon groans.

“Want me to go on?” He asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple and then, almost jumps right out of his skin when your other hand squeezes at his cock in his sweats. He lets out a chuckle that gets muddled by a moan that rumbles in his chest. “Baby.”

Namjoon sees the smile that curls in your lips, the innocent way you blink at him. You hum softly when he mouths at your jaw, a shudder runs through him and he can’t stop himself chasing the friction with a buck of his hips.

“You wan’it?” Namjoon’s drunk on you and you’ve barely done anything. You’re tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants, and he groans, letting his forehead rest against your chest when your hand wraps around his cock and tugs upward. “Ah, Fuck.”

He feels your hand against his chest and lies back when you push gently. He watches as you tug his tee-shirt and your underwear off, and he quickly follows to take his sweats off.

He slides his hands up your thighs when you settle on his. A breath catches in his throat when you wrap both hands around the width of his cock. His fingers gripping where your thighs meet your hips, and he watches with heavy lidded eyes as you lean forward slightly and spit. The dollop of saliva lands deftly on the head of his cock and Namjoon’s eyes roll back as you focus there.

You’re twisting your wrists, the slick sound of it and Namjoon’s harsh breaths are the only sounds in the quiet room. When he feels his lower stomach clench he grabs your wrist and still your movement.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of literally anything else, “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

Your giggle rings like a bell and Namjoon smiles at the sound. Sitting up he pulls you forward, trapping his throbbing cock between his stomach and the heat of your cunt. He groans at how wet you are, blunt teeth nipping at your jaw. “Wanna ride it?” He breathes, “Hm? Wanna fuck me?”

He feels your nod, feels the shuddering breath you release against his hair. “Words, Princess.”

“Yeah, wanna fuck you.”

Namjoon helps you balance, guiding his cock – slick with your juices – to your entrance. He sucks on your tongue as you come down slowly, and Namjoon swears he’s seeing the pearly gates behind his tightly shut eyes when your walls flutter.

He lies back, giving you a moment and short, shallow thrusts. You look so beautiful above him, your hair a rumpled mess, throat and chest covered in bruises of his own making. He gives a single thrust, a hand sliding up your sweat slicked skin to palm at your breast, his other hand landing a harsh slap against your ass.

You squeak out a moan and Namjoon chuckles, doing it again, “C’mon, baby girl. Fuck me.”

Your hands press against his tummy, hips rising slowly and coming back down. He lets you set the pace, content to lie back and take what you give. He could feel your arousal dripping down his shaft, and Namjoon tightens his grip on your hips.

He plants his feet flat on the bed, meeting you halfway with his thrusts. He pulls you down with a hand behind your neck, when your chest meets his he wraps his other arm around your waist and sets a brutal pace.

“Feels so fucking good.” Namjoon groans, “Pussy’s so good—fuck.”

You’re moaning right in his ear, whining, breathless sounds that makes him fuck you harder. Without warning, your thighs squeeze at his sides and you tremble above him. Your orgasm pools in his groin in a gush of warmth, your moans pitching an octave with his name and Namjoon swears, fucking you through it.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Namjoon groans, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He slows his thrusts and gently eases you off him, he settles behind you when you’re on your stomach, lifting your hips to meet his.

Your moans are muffled by the sheets when he thrusts forward. He holds you steady with a hand gripping your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He focuses his thrusts on the spot that makes your walls tighten and drip.

He looks down to watch his cock disappear inside you, and the way your ass jiggles from the force of his thrusts. “Fuc—M’gonna cum. Where you want it?”

You meet his thrusts halfway, “Inside.”

“You sure?” Namjoon pants, slowing down just a bit.

“Yeah—wanna feel you. Please, daddy.”

Lightning shoots down his spine, curses in his mother tongue trapped behind his teeth as he spills his release inside you. He holds you pressed against him, balls deep, moaning at every throb of his cock.

He pulls you closer when he lays down, peppering kisses all over your face and wherever he could reach. When you’ve both caught your breaths, you finally speak, chin propped on your hand on his chest.

“Daddy, huh? That does it for you?” You’re giggling and Namjoon throws an arm over his eyes, groaning.

“Shut up.” He can’t help his smile, “You’re the one who said it, so I think it’s the other way around actually.”

“We’re both gonna lose if we go there.”

A half hour later, after the sheets in the guest bedroom were stripped and you and him are settled for the night in his room, Namjoon wouldn’t change a thing if he had the power to. He’d go into that cafe and sit at your table every time.

Ganymede has no choice in the matter, he would orbit Jupiter as long as she allows it.

Tagging (Bold means i couldn't tag ):) : @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @eren-fall @blog-name-idk @idkreallys-blog @thvunaise @menialthoughts

#Persphonesorchid #Fic: Orbiting Jupiter #Kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fluff #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #knj #knj x reader #bts fics #bts fic rec #kim namjoon smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #rm bts #rm x reader #rm smut

[thearcanawearcrocs]

As a poly person myself I find the potential dynamics of an mc who is dating two or more of the main 6 fascinating so I’ve decided to rank them. For simplicity’s sake I’ve decided to only do the dynamic of an mc dating two of the main 6 for now but I’m happy to make more later if people are interested

Asra and Nadia

Interesting but I see them more as friends

I think they would both be eager to provide mc with anything they could possibly want

Nadia clearly values Asra’s opinion and they have a mutual respect and friendship

I think they could pretty easily share mc

4/10

Asra and Julian

These two have a lot of history together

I think it would be fascinating to watch them rekindle their old relationship but this time with more healthy and open communication and under better circumstances

Julian and Asra bonding as two people who have given everything to keep you alive/bring you back

Overall I really enjoy this one

Lots of potential for angst

9/10

Asra and Muriel

Childhood besties who only have each other for so long and now they are both dating the same person? Absolutely

I love the idea of mc dating both of them

It makes a lot of sense for them to become a triad

I think it would be a very positive experience for everyone involved

10/10

Asra and Portia

This would be fun but I personally don’t see a lot of romance coming with it

Asra and Portia would be adventure buddies and drag mc across the earth to show them the world

I think Faust and Pepi would get along

3/10

Asra and Lucio

Now this is fascinating to me

These two do not like each other at all in canon and have had almost no positive interactions

However I find the idea of them strangely compelling

I think it a world where mc chose Lucio it would be neat to watch Asra struggle to put aside his own feelings about Lucio to keep his apprentice close

It would get messy but honestly that’s part of what makes it interesting

7/10

Nadia and Julian

Another one that I think would come fairly easily

Nadia and Julian have chemistry in canon and I don’t think either one of them would object to mc also being in the mix

As countess Nadia can afford to take care of two partners

5/10

Nadia and Muriel

This one’s cute

Nadia who lives to shower her loved ones in gifts and luxury vs Muriel who struggles to believe he deserves basic comfort

You can’t tell me Nadia wouldn’t love to slip away into the woods from time to time to get away from the stress of her work

Also Nadia proving herself to be nothing like Lucio as a leader and taking steps to correct the issues in the city that hurt Muriel most

9/10

Nadia and Portia

I mean yeah absolutely

The two of them already fall in love in routes where mc doesn’t choose either of them so why wouldn’t they also fall in love in a route where mc did?

The trust and affection they already have for one another would be a pretty solid foundation to add mc to

10/10

Nadia and Lucio

I mean they were once married

Nadia would hold Lucio to his word and encourage his efforts to make amends for what he’s done wrong

I think she is one of the main 6 who would be able to forgive him fully with enough time and if she saw him putting in real effort

I also love the idea of her knowing Lucio the way he was before dying and being able to truly see and appreciate the difference

Lucio seems to harbor no real ill will towards Nadia either and I think they could make peace with one another

7/10

Julian and Muriel

The loudest most dramatic man you know breaks down the door of the most introverted quiet guy in existence

This can only end well

I think that they honestly would end up getting along but it would take a while

They would balance each other out in some respects

I think they would also eventually bond over trauma. They both lost their families at a young age, were both hurt by Lucio and have permanent physical marks of that trauma, and both struggle to see themselves as worthy of good things

If they don’t kill each other in the first month I think they could be great together

8/10

Julian and Portia

I mean they’re siblings so

I guess mc could just be dating both separately but that still feels weird to me

0/10

Julian and Lucio

I love these two together a lot

Julian “I only consider others and never myself” devorak meets Lucio “I only consider myself and not others” morgasson

It would be so incredibly messy

They will absolutely hurt one another but I think they may also help one another grow a great deal

They are both very dramatic and passionate and would play off one another well

10/10

Muriel and Portia

This is cute

I think Portia would be incredibly understanding

Her constant optimism and belief in those around her would be very good for Muriel I think

Also they are both animal lovers which is important

7/10

Muriel and Lucio

Oh god no

I don’t think Muriel ever could (or really ever should) forgive Lucio for what he’s done to him

I love Lucio but what he did to Muriel is beyond fucked and I truly could not see the two of them ever being able to be so much a friends

Could be an interesting dynamic to play with in a dark fic though

1/10

Portia and Lucio

Lucio would be like her silly little guy

I think Portia would be fine with having him around

Lucio would think she was a lot of fun

Portia is the character who was hurt by lucio the least and so I believe she would be one of the first to be able to forgive him

6/10

#the arcana #arcana #lucio #count lucio #the arcana lucio #muriel #the arcana muriel #julian #julian devorak #the arcana julian #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #muriel arcana #asra arcana

[nekassvariigs]

Thunder storms give me so much anxiety can I plz get Zoro comfort during a really bad storm?? Reader tries their best to hide that they’re terribly nervous but my mans can see right through <3 thank you ily

A/n: It's been a long time since i sat down to write something i actually enjoyed. I hope you like it <3

Zoro x reader

Thunder in the seas with a reminder of his childhood

The sea clouded with darkness, large clouds turned the whole sky nearly pitch black as if it was raining ash that day. No amount of sunlight peeked through them only loud bangs of thunder. The type of thunder that rattled the ship and the seas. The one that made your ears feels as if they were about to experiance a shockwave. You hid in your room trying to avoid the noise, trying to keep busy. Not a journal not a book helped to relieve the stress you were feeling, hands meek from the heightened sense of insecurity you stared out into the window. A thing you shouldn't be doing, however seeing the lightning strike you couldnt help but to await the next bang of thunder.

Nami had warned you that clouds have been forming in the sea for a while, the winds had picked up pace so why was it so surprising that there was actual rain and thunder?

The door clanked behind you, shrouded footsteps made their way behind you, Zoro's hands slid down from your shoulder to your hands.

"Dont stare at the sea." He assured speaking in a calm and low manner like he always did.

"Wasn't staring.. Just thinking." You puff a rather large breath. The anticipation of another strike was a little unnerving. Your eyes glimmered with fear that of a lost animal. You looked up at the familiar man smiling shyly to avoid any suspicion of your fear for the weather.

He smirked, he's not stupid. Youre barley holding his hand and even if you are, its so cold and boneless.

"Im gonna catch a nap, wanna join?" he retorted ignoring the issue just a little. Anything to find a distraction for you.

"I dont think ill be able to sleep Zoro." You watched as he slid off his boots laying in your shared bed, his hands behind his head he watched out of the small window, the sea looked pitch black almost, you couldnt even see the waves Sunny left behind.

"Doesn't matter just come." He waved you over.

You sighed. When hes set on something he'll stick to it.

You sat next to him in bed feeling the shift of his weight dip into the matress as his head landed over your shoulder he spoke lazily, voice a little choaked from the position.

"Youre afraid arent you?"

You stiffened up at the words your toes curling in your boots were the only indication that he saw through you.

"A little. It's only thunder." You laughed it off as a joke and yet the second you heard the sky roaring your eyes darted to the small window. The room shook a little. The new world really had some strangley strong weather.

"I was afraid of thunder as a kid. I remember my teacher telling me i used to cry the whole night if it ever thundered." He admitted calmly his hand reaching around your chest to your other shoulder he pushed you back on the bed.

Your head landed on the side of his torso, his steady breathing unnoticably calming your nerves a little bit.

"He had to start wearing ear muffs during late summer, apparantley i was the loudest crier he had ever heard." He scratched his cheek shrugging his shoulders a little bit.

"Did you grow out of it?" You asked even though the way he relaxed on your shared bed spoke for itself.

"More than id like to admit. Sometimes it still surprises me. Today's is a little harsh." He looks over at you and then out of the window once more. Sky is still dark as ever, The Sunnys creaking under the uneven waves of the sea, the whole floor sways lightly under the shackles of it.

"Thats what we get for going out to the New world, huh?" You steady yourself upwards only to rest your read over his chest.

"It's the price we pay for Luffy's dreams." He smiles to himself arm tracing soothing circles over your back. His hand moves slowly like hes thinking over each swipe of his fingers.

His heart beat is slow and steady, roaring in his chest is only the sound of pure calm. You listen in the steady thumps keep pushing up against your cheek with each beat eliminating the sound of thunder as you lose your sense of hearing anything but his heartbeat.

His eyes close, and yet his hand still draws lazy circles over your back, he shifts a little forward placing an unusual kiss on your hair as he continues.

"I don't think it'll stop anytime soon." He speaks softly the gravel in his tone is unparred.

"We could sleep it off if that's the case." You chuckle, theres no way Luffy wouldnt come barging it at the slightest hint of hard rain exclaiming hes all soaked in the rain.

Zoros free hand moves to take out each katana out of their signature spot, he lays them besides the bed staring up into the celing.

A big yawn echoes in the room causing you to yawn aswell. Whats with that coincidental mimmickery?

"I can't picture you crying over thunder." you speak up resting a hand over his chest just before your face.

"I can. The way my teacher said, it was the most annoying thing hes ever had to hear for hours. I imagine he started telling me that thunders nothing to be afraid soon after i ruined his ears." He chuckled with a puff of breath, stifling another yawn, the circling on your back seemed to pause, coming back for a few seconds and then dissapearing once more.

He was fighting his sleep to make sure you felt alright.

"Sleep mosshead, im alright." You throw a joking nickname watching as his hand rests on the small of your back his brows furrow.

He says nothing only the sound of slow breathing fills the air his brows unfurrow lightly as you pick up your head to check on him.

"Thank you." You whisper drawing lazy circles over his chest, the thunder roars outside but it cant get inside this room anymore. His presence seems to be enough to calm down the fear that tends to set on your skin. A little noise won't do much if he's there with you.

#onepiece #one piece fanfiction #onepiece x reader #one piece #zoro x y/n #zoro fluff #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronora zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #zoro headcanons #ronoroa zoro #zoro imagine #roanoa zoro

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hi darlings! i’m so sorry that it took so long to get this one out but hopefully we’ll be back on the regular schedule by tomorrow :) i hope you love it, cause i really enjoyed writing it! [chapter 5 will rock your shit, i promise] lots of love and light! 🤎

masterlist

warning: gets a bit suggestive in the middle but only for like a single paragraph.

night rain ; chapter 4

2019

It had been about two months since Camila found out that she was pregnant. Two months of secret doctor’s visits. Two months of sneaking out of the kitchen to puke because of the suddenly turned putrid smells she had savoured just a few months prior. Two whole months of still not being able to tell Carmy that she was carrying his child.

She stressed about it quite a bit, dreaming of the unfortunate possibility that Carmen would not want nor love this child. His career was his baby so who was she to kill it? It was irrational, she knew that, but it didn’t keep her from letting that fear consume her. Even on beautiful mornings like these, where she and her boyfriend both coincidentally got the day off and were able to sleep in. Even then, when Carmy turned over to look at her after waking up, she had a slight frown in her brow.

For Carmen, this morning was the most relaxed that he had felt in a while. The sun rays peeked in slightly through the curtains, the birds were chirping and the love of his life was laying soundly right beside him. It was her overwhelmingly pleasant scent that assured him of her presence before he even opened his eyes. He watched her back rise and fall as she snored softly before leaning over to kiss her shoulder in his shirt that she liked to wear to bed. It was barely his anymore but he still liked to wear it when she wasn’t around and he needed her closer. That was just love, or maybe just pathetic.

Carmen loved Camila. He would risk and lose everything just to know that they’d be together forever. He thought that she was beautiful and he looked at her as if she was the sun while he had no issue with going blind. Even after a particularly long shift at work, covered in flour, eggshells and all kinds of gunk, he’d simply just pull her into the shower and wash it all away while kissing her face and whispering sweet-nothings into her ears. She was beautiful in more ways than that because her heart was huge. She was kind and empathetic and understanding and he only hoped that their future children would be exactly the same. He hoped that they would have her smile, her laugh and even her odd squeal that she’d let out when she finally got a recipe right. He hoped that the world would be so lucky to receive more and more Camilas for generations to come.

He couldn’t wait for the honour to call himself her husband and live the rest of their lives together. He wished for the time when he would get to be the loudest person cheering when she did something huge to change the world because he knew with every fibre of his being that she would. Even now, as she just lay next to him and existed, he was beyond proud of her.

“I can feel you staring.”

Her voice interrupted his thoughts as her eyes shot open and smiled up at him, “Morning, Bear.”

“Morning, sweetheart.” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss her, his movements being halted by her palm gently pushing his face back as he looked at her with confusion.

“Have you forgotten that morning breath exists?”

“No, I just don’t care.” he laughed before capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

Carmen pulled away slightly before going in again, more passionately this time. Their mouths caressed one another for what felt like hours as they took in each other’s scents and tastes before he went to straddle her and deepen the kiss, wrapping her left leg around his hip. Both sets of hands ran all over each another before Carmy reached his hand under Camila’s shirt to grope her breast.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, moving to nip at her neck.

Camila only whimpered in response as his knee made contact between her thighs.

“Cam, come back down. I need words.” Carmy said while beginning to run his hand down her torso to her lower stomach. This brought Camila back to earth immediately as she shot up pushing him away before his hand got dangerously close to her slight baby bump.

“No! No, shit. Carm, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologise. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m just not feeling well, I think.”

“Okay, what can I make you to help you feel better?” he asked while taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

“Migas?” she giggled hopefully, bringing a huge smile to Carmen’s face.

“Of course, baby.” He said before kissing her and standing up. “You want me to run you a bath?”

“No, I’m okay. I love you.”

“I love you.”

As Carmen left the room, Camila took a moment to herself before running to the bathroom, feeling quite nauseous. She put on the shower to mask the sound of her morning sickness before stripping and getting in, rinsing all of the anxiety from her body. She looked down to admire the growth that her stomach had acquired over the last number of weeks. The sight truly brought tears to her eyes, of joy that is. She loved watching her body work to accommodate her child and how it meant that the moment when she would meet said child was slowly but surely getting closer. She adored this baby and it was at that moment that she finally realised Carmen would adore it just as much, if not more. And so, she quickly switched off the water and rushed to put a lounge set on that specifically showed off her bump and was about to walk out of the room before hearing a loud “FUCK!” and the sound of something being thrown from the kitchen.

Fear coursed through Camila as she approached the kitchen and hesitantly asked what had happened.

“Chef called and said I have to come in,” Carmy said, darting around the apartment grabbing his knives, uniform and bag. “Some bullshit critic, I don’t know. I probably won’t be home until the morning.”

“Shit, I knew I could never just get a single moment of peace. Where I can think about something other than this shit!” he continued, shouting. “I need to focus, Cam. I can’t keep slipping up.”

“I love you, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Carmen kissed the girl on her temple before practically running out the door and slamming it closed.

He didn’t even notice.

Camila had been standing right in front of him during his entire tangent and he didn’t even notice. She felt horrible. Distraught and embarrassed at the fact that she really thought she could do this. That they could do this, have a normal life with babies and lazy mornings and actual happiness. Camila couldn’t afford to risk this baby ruining his life. Let it ruin his chances of doing something extraordinary because she knew with every fibre of her being that he would. She couldn’t allow herself to be the reason that he didn’t end up achieving the life that was so clearly destined for him.

And that was the moment she decided to leave.

She rushed to pack her clothes, book the next flight to anywhere but New York and called her mother. Camila loved Carmen. She would do anything for him, even if it meant breaking his heart.

yanda! speaks (again): parallels in writing will ALWAYS do it for me fr. sorry if the end made you sad, gang but i have to prepare you for the next one 🤭 toodaloo! &lt;33

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback @janoskiansecondsofdirection @thatonedogwithablog @kravitzwhore @iiheartbowie @doodlebob-mp3

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x oc

[yostresswritinggirl]

Ooo, I love the thought of Tighnari and Cyno throwing flowers and petals to the Reader after a performance!! I can see the Reader blowing a kiss towards them both in response if they manage to see them in the crowd.

I’ve been thinking about some more Ballet/Tap dancer Reader from Fontaine with Cynonari scenarios I’d like to share again, I hope you don’t mind me talking about it some more, fgkjh-

So, I’m going to lean into the ballet dancer side for the next few thoughts/scenarios. I can’t help but imagine the Reader telling Cyno and Tighnari about their experiences in ballet; bad instructors, funny and happy moments, ballets they’ve been in, and opening up about any body image issues they dealt with along the way (more on this in a moment). In the world of ballet, there is a lot of pressure put onto you, both by instructors and yourself. Instructors correct you constantly (“Your footing is wrong, you need to do this…” “Your position is wrong, you need to that…” etc.) and you’re pretty hard on yourself as well. Linking back to the body image issue, in ballet, there is pressure to look a certain way, to attain bodily perfection. At first, the Reader really did struggle with this pressure, but has gradually built up their confidence in themselves over time. Although, if they do still deal with some body issues and insecurities, then Tighnari and Cyno will shoot down any negative thoughts and reassure/comfort them.

Reader: Imagine being required to show up for work each day dressed in a skin-tight leotard and leggings, where every perceived flaw is visible. Now imagine you spend most of your work-day surrounded by wall-to-wall mirrors, and you’re asked to constantly monitor your own appearance. That’s what it is like for ballet dancers. Overcoming the pressure to look a certain way was a pretty big challenge for me. 

Reader: “Will the crowd notice me if I am more attractive? Would they like me more if I was ten pounds lighter?” Those sort of thoughts ran through my head. I only saw what my instructors saw in myself - something that needed improvement.

Despite all the stress and hardship the Reader has endured, they still retain a love and passion for ballet.

On a more lighter note, I’ve been thinking more about the statement that Fontaine “revers true beauty and elegance” and trying to incorporate that into different displays of affection. One ‘elegant’ way I thought of was the Reader kissing their lovers’ hands. The thought of the Reader gently taking up their lovers’ hands and pressing their lips on their knuckles makes me so soft,,, And love letters!! Another way could be the Reader writing love letters to both Cyno and Tighnari. Also, I have this weird headcanon that courting in Fontaine is more ‘polite,’ if that makes sense?? (it’s mainly because Fontaine’s based off of 1910 France-) Like, opening doors for the person you like, offering an arm when you walk together, that sort of thing.

And the Reader learning more about Sumeru! The wildlife, the people, and everything else about it. They always have a wonder and curiosity about their surroundings.

Reader: Oh, wow! Tighnari, what’s this?

Tighnari: *looks over his shoulder*

Reader: *pointing to a pretty, but incredibly poisonous mushroom* :D ?

Tighnari: Okay first off-

I’ll give one more scenario with ballet dancer Reader- Parts of ballet dancers’ bodies can just crack at any time and they usually feel really sore. So when Reader cracks one part of their body Tighnari and Cyno just cringe at the sound-

Reader: (Ugh, my whole body aches…) *they flex their toes and the loudest cracking noise just,, goes off*

Cyno: *stops what he’s doing* *turns around*

Reader’s hip: *c ra ck*

Cyno:

Cyno: (Name),

Jackdaw Anon 🐦

I love it, I love it, gosh darn all of it

I can definitely see Cyno and Tighnari kind of paralleled their lives in the Akademiya with ballet reader's in the sense of their critic struggles. How despite art and academics are in the other end of the spectrum, the hardships weigh just the same in what they had to deal with

Hearing about the body issues and pretty much just knowing how important physique is (which is also kind of a weird thing for them both seeing as Cyno and Tighnari most definitely do not worry about looking good, not their priority pretty much, despite slaying so much), they do their best to assist in a more practical/applied way. Tighnari definitely would act like a dietician in keeping watch of their nutrient intake and suggesting meals

All a balanced diet, after all he's not a believer of cutting back in food, he knows that the best way to get in shape is to make sure that your food is carefully picked out in terms of the nutrients. Cyno in the other hand would help with exercise by either training (usually in the guise of combat) or just his daily routine of workouts, they like to do it near an oasis or any body of water so it would be refreshing.

Ballet reader does give me a regal vibe of like - a princess acting princely, elegant and androgynous somehow! Like in their tip toes, arm behind their back as they bow and take the hand of their lovers to kiss, a wink thrown in too as they do it. Cyno and Tighnari feel like princesses being charmed by their ballet prince haha

Oh oh and can't forget, I can definitely see them dancing on top of the huuuge mushrooms in Mawtiyima Forest after Tighnari showed them there accompanied by fireflies and the blue glows of the plants! It's so beautiful there for a ballet routine, Cyno and Tighnari always sneaks over to watch

And they also can make a popping sound on their knee when they move their leg a certain way too haha man, I wanna see how Cyno reacts when he sees how they break in their ballet shoes (bonus points if it was his gift to them too hahaha)

#exile.goblet #jackdaw anon #poly cynonari #exile.reader

[brittlebutch]

neo i clicked on ur link to With the Light and binge read like half the series for the past 4 hours. PLEASE tell me ur thoughts abt this series im in love with it !!! the framing of hikaru's issues as inherently blameless is amazing to see, and the focus on letting hikaru enjoy what he likes and letting him choose/listening to all the ways he communicates made me so happy. the way sachiko firmly refuses to let people be ableist or mistreat hikaru is so refreshing, and her patience and intentional care and observation ends up encouraging other people to stand up for themselves and build a lovely community of support and acceptance. i especially liked the incisive way they address people's condescending attempts at caring (the parents' talking down to sachiko, the teacher offering to make the races have no winners, etc). im so glad u posted abt this, i definitely never would have found it otherwise, and i would Love to hear ur thoughts ^_^

Dude!!!! I am so glad that you had read this series and enjoyed it, I'm SO thrilled that I finally was able to find a site where I could recommend it to people! I could spend hours talking about every single minute detail of this series that I love -- if I tried to talk about it here, I'd probably break the text box lmao. I keep trying to break it down to broad strokes and failing, I love the characters, I love the narrative, I love the educational aspects and the way it handles all these different topics and the fact that throughout the series, the thing that always comes through the loudest to me is a deep felt love of Autistic people and the Hope that one day the world as a whole will change to accept us as we are.

Hikaru isn't the POV character, but this series never falls into the mistake of forgetting that he is a character. There's no Symbolic Representation here (see Jessie Gender's video on this topic for more on that); Hikaru isn't just a walking DSM checklist of autistic traits -- he is a full person with likes, dislikes, interests, friendships, and even with his autistic traits, they're unique and specific to him instead of a broad attempt to make him carry the whole of the spectrum on his shoulders. (That's one of many aspects where I think the choice of narrative really works for the series -- having one family move through a variety of different schools, services, and organizations means that there's ample opportunity to introduce a wide range of characters that can highlight different traits, behaviors, and points on the spectrum without it being overly pointed or confusing).

And the series is always sympathetic to his perspective; we never really get into Hikaru's head, but the characters and the narrative still absolutely ooze an empathy for his experiences throughout the series. The characters often talk about not only the stress of having autistic children, but the stress of being an autistic child. They talk about sensory experiences as being overwhelming and painful, they identify the struggle to identify your surroundings as scary, discuss how frustrating it must feel to not be able to express yourself effectively. Sometimes it's speculative -- although they do also sometimes talk about having read things that actually autistic people have written about being autistic, but the core empathy is always present. Even when discussing something frustrating or dangerous (a mother talking about how her daughter sometimes tries to run into the street because she likes the white painted lines on the road), they still often take the time to consider and empathize with their children's point of view ("If the whole world was confusing and overwhelming, then it must be a relief to find something to look at that always stays the same").

and YEAH i love the way this series handles communication. Again, the narrative works in its favor on this topic, because Hikaru doesn't have to be someone who uses a shit tonne of different communication methods; they found what works for him and stick with it, but can also talk to other parents/educators about all the options that exist out there. The series goes into depth about a lot of different methods of communication, all of which are celebrated and accepted - deliberate use of direct speech, more abstract use of verbal speech, PECs cards, AAC technology, written directives and lists people can point to, type to talk, nonverbal gestures, body language, etc.

But to me, the most important conversation about communication is a moment when Hikaru's elementary school teacher Aoki is talking about another autistic student in his class. He is talking to the children's mothers, and pulls up his sleeve to reveal an injury on his arm from where Miyu bit him -- "Whenever I see this, I realize that I'm not communicating with Miyu-chan in a way she understands". Not only is Miyu "Allowed" to bite without being punished, but the biting itself is not dismissed as an aberrant "bad behavior" that needs correction, but is correctly identified as a method of communication that the allistic adults around her need to listen to. Miyu cannot talk and she's too little to read or write, she can only communicate her frustrations in the few, limited options available to her -- until she's able to learn how to express herself in more effective ways, it's important for the people around her to pay attention and actively listen to the ways through which she can express herself -- including in strange or "inconvenient" ways, such as biting.

And the very deliberate ways they teach Hikaru how to communicate is also Super fucking important. It's really significant to me that the first things Sachiko wants to work with Hikaru on are 1.) How to express needs/wants and 2.) How to tell her "No". For the series to correctly identify that the ability to tell someone "No" is not only a right, but an absolutely vital life skill is SO significant. Not only does Sachiko accept the idea that Hikaru will tell her no, she takes deliberate steps to teach him how to do so. The series goes into depth on how Sachiko (and Hikaru's other caregivers/educators) help teach him how to correct them when they screw up, how to ask for things he needs and reject things he doesn't, how to set his own boundaries and communicate his needs and dislikes -- no matter what that communication looks like.

I love that the series and the characters' main focus is never on getting Hikaru to "fit in" to society, but to figure out how to live a life that works for him, that allows him to be as independent as possible, no matter what other people think about how it looks for him. Another really important moment in the series for me is when Hikaru's grandmother is saying that the progress he's made since he was a small child isn't good enough, and when she asks "What happens to children like him?" Sachiko is absolutely stalwart when she says "He'll grow up, and become a young man with autism" and DUDE i love that so much. Not a single hint of the notion that he'll either be infantilized forever or somehow grow out of his autism, it fully embraces the fact that he'll be an autistic adult and remains adamant that that's a good thing!!!

Again, I could talk about this forever. I love that the series always empathizes with Hikaru's meltdowns and never just dismisses them as "tantrums", and when other characters talk about meltdown prevention, it's never in terms of "Well, we need to figure out how to force Hikaru to get used to X", it's always in terms of "I should have realized he was reaching a breaking point before things got that bad; we need to help Hikaru learn tools to calm down and make sure he knows how to establish boundaries and leave situations that aren't good for him". With the right adults, Hikaru is always able to leave an overwhelming situation and not return until he has decided he's calm enough to try again - no one pushes him to recover faster than he's ready to. I think there's one scene in the entire series when two adults who don't know what they're doing try to restrain Hikaru during a meltdown, and every other time Hikaru reaches that point, the other characters make sure to give him ample space to calm down without overwhelming him further.

I love the ways this series handles ableism in all of its forms. It addresses ableism that comes from ignorance, from malice, and from places that are "well-meant" in really educational and helpful ways. I love love love the way the series normalizes disability when explaining it to children -- there's a few moments throughout the series where other kids mock Hikaru, but the adults handle it so wonderfully. The "Hikaru struggles to talk the same way you struggle to run a marathon" explanations do so much to make disability just a normal thing, instead of some awful secret that you're never allowed to address directly. I think it's really wonderful.

I think this post is getting too long, tumblr is getting mad at me lol. There's still so much I'd love to talk about: I love how the author includes so many lovingly illustrated panels of Hikaru stimming, I love that his family is allowed to be frustrated without that frustration ever coming across in a way that demonizes Hikaru, I love the relationship that he has with his younger sister, I love all of the friendships that he's made and maintained since he was a toddler, I love the "It takes a village" approach that really highlights the significance of having a good support system, and I love all the different people that come together to help teach Hikaru and make sure that his dignity and independence are always prioritized. I love the little details of Hikaru's character like the way that he's really good at identifying/taking care of plants, and his love of dolphins, and the way he repeats the things his friends say to him to hold onto the thoughts after they go home/back to class. I even love how some of the teachers that Hikaru has in school aren't always great at their jobs (I actually think the Gunji-sensei arc is one of my favorites in the whole series), and I love all the side characters that the series introduces us to, and the care that the author has when educating readers about autism and all the different aids/accommodations that can make life easier and less frustrating/painful.

UGH I really do love this series so much, I'd happily keep talking about it and answering questions about it for forever! If my ramblings have encouraged anyone else to give the series a shot, I'll leave you with this: the first two chapters are the hardest to get through because Sachiko and Hikaru are extremely isolated and Sachiko does not understand what Autism is yet -- if you're hesitant about it, you can skip to chapter three where things start to look up a little more sharply and start there instead, and please continue to read through the rest of the series. It's truly one of my favorite autism medias of all time <3

#if the sheer length of this post (and this was me trying to keep it short btw lmfao) wasn't proof enough i will Happily #talk more about this series if you'd like to have more conversation about it :3 #it's been my favorite series since I was in high school and I like never get to talk about it because I couldn't find any place #online for it to be accessible enough for just anyone to read but now someone has posted it and i'm SO happy for it!! #with the light #<- once upon a time there was like One other user on this site who posted about this manga but they left :( #I will take up the mantle instead lmao

[gwynbleiddyn]

emoji asks! 👻🌙🙈

i'm gonna do these for both Dyn and Mio! ✨

Maahes

👻GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

I mean, yeah, for sure -- it's not so much a case of belief for him as it is direct fact that undead exist and they threaten the sanctity of life that he holds dear. Ghosts are just one of many kinds.

Specifically though, in Mio's experience ghosts are usually dissatisfied souls who can't return to their bodies. The 'hierarchy' of life in his mind is simple, there are four groups -- the gods, the ruling family, the blessed dead, and everyone else -- who maintain a certain balance in the world. This balance is imperative to the continuation of life in whatever form it takes. Pretty basic way to boil down the whole culture, but that's the gist of it, and it's why death is so sacred to him.

When you're born, your only guaranteed destination is death, the life you follow between those two points has to bring you to a state of harmony for your death to be blessed, and for your spirit to rest eternally. It's why he's so afraid now that he knows his father had him resurrected, because for him the only 'available' end is yk, basically endless torment, regardless of what harmony he finds in life now. Which is possibly a pre-emptive ghostly experience.

I think they also had issues with grandpa Basekh tho, bitch did not rest easy. i think papa basekh was hundo percent haunted and yk what is silent in the father often speaks in the son etc and so on and so forth

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

god this really changes daily. sometimes it's selfish, he wants to be plucked from the mess of Talisman and squirreled away into a life where he doesn't have to care about the people around him so much. sometimes he wishes Onuris would appear and sort his problems out with blunt force like he usually does, or for Shadiya to sweep away the troubles with a flick of the wrist and a well-placed word. occasionally, he wishes that Amun had simply never bothered to bring him back. these are all fleeting and impossible and he doesn't hold onto them for very long, so the willingness isn't there to see them through.

however, most of the time - and this is probably the loudest wish despite his indifference to the world - he just wants to see Akhenaton in Pelor's light again. he isn't particularly bothered how that happens, only that it does, and i think the desperation of the Shadowfell has finally pushed him to the brink of 'by any means necessary' and he's all but promised his soul to a demon prince, which, yk, i feel is a pretty big hint as to how far he's willing to go. right now, he's worthless, so anyone that wants him? they can have him, because as far as he's concerned he's robbing them blind. bargain of the century.

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - what's a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

the desperation. he knows his composure is slipping, people are starting to ask questions - and zinnan knows something of the bargain he's made, which might be fuelling his sudden amicability towards them :) can't outwit the fey when their entire language is bargains and trades, so best to get them onside while they're open to it.

the recent scolding from pelor also doesn't sit well. it's the first time i think he's been faced with divinity that has been wrong. he didn't like it. you know when you really trust someone and you make a decision that's a bit like, "they'll understand why i'm doing this!" but turns out they actually don't and they are livid with you and you feel your trust just break a little bit??? something something pretend to throw the ball for the dog so many times and it'll bite your hand instead something something

anyway he's not telling anyone about that for as long as he lives. embarrassing.

------

Dyn

👻GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

i think Dyn is very much a pragmatist but given that he himself has an affliction of a supernatural nature, he finds it hard to argue that ghosts can't exist. i also think he kind of subscribes to the idea that the echoes and spirits of people can and do exist long after they are gone -- the land swallows them up, drinks them in and keeps them flowing through its rivers, spits them out into the ground, enables them to dig roots deep in its earth and punch their souls through the soil into plants and trees and even animals.

he's always had this idea, because that's all the land is - life cycle upon cycle, things that feed into other things, everything is connected in some way. the natural order dictates that energy is never lost, just displaced and distributed. therefore, death can consume a physical body, but not the energy contained within it. that must go somewhere to feed something else, eventually.

i also wonder whether he thinks this way as a bit of a comforting story to himself. he lost his mother in a way that will never offer him closure -- she was swallowed up by the Chionthar not far after it cuts through Iriaebor, after a violent and terrifying hunt in which they were the prey for a pack of enthralled werewolves. even after he was turned, he stalked the river for any sign of her body or possessions, but never found anything. and in a way, never being able to bury her and put her to rest kept his grief 'living' - so every river he crosses, every brook or stream or creek, the tributaries that breathe life into faerun, he imagines her spirit calms the waters for a moment to let him pass.

so maybe he would say that ghosts do exist, just not in the way most people picture them.

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

honestly, just freedom. like, his childhood 'dream' was just to live in a cottage by the river, totally self-sustaining, maybe with a dog, and no input from society. just peaceful isolation with a garden in which his life grows.

but as he travelled from village to village with his mother and started making connections with people, he began to change that dream a little. he didn't crave isolation at all, he just had trouble reconciling the pressures of society with his own personal freedom, and the easiest solution was to cut people out entirely.

so the dream continued to morph into something else as he got older, as he established more meaningful friendships and relationships, as he listened to his mother's songs and wrote some of his own - he began to see the joy of living as freely as he did was not so much in the danger that nature offered, but in the unrelenting hope that people ground between gritted teeth to face another day within it. he loved it. he loved them. so the lonely cottage on the river became a homely house in the lower city, walls laden with art and windowsills overflowing with greenery, and room enough for friends.

then, when he's turned into a lycan against his will and forced into a subservient role for some considerable time, with a master hellbent on stepping on everyone else to ensure his own survival and freedom, that kind of puts a big dent in that dream. the gentle notion of a peaceful life feels like it's been violently ripped away from him and in its place is grief for his mother and just hunger, hunger, hunger.

he has a lot of trouble reconciling the loss of his freedom and even into the beginning act of BG3, it's all he can think about. there's no homely house or even a lonely cottage - he dreams of that endless hunger and the master who cursed him, he dreams of sleeping in the cold and of whip-marks on his shoulders, neck rubbed raw from a collar that said he belonged to someone else. it's unpleasant, and bitter, but i think being surrounded by others whose autonomy was also taken from them kind of gives him some grounding. he is willing to give them a way out, so why won't he offer himself the same chance? eventually, he works through it alongside his friends, and it forms a huge part of his understanding of astarion which, rather sweetly (or maybe rather monstrously) builds a strong foundation for their friendship and subsequent relationship, and eventually, he allows his dream to return now that he can see a future in it.

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - what's a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

i think he struggles with revealing his lycanthropy - not so much because it's horrifying, he knows people have likely seen worse, but because it's just so intrinsically linked to his loss of autonomy and freedom. he feels vulnerable with it, even though he's physically at his strongest in his shifted form, and it's probably one of the main things that causes a lot of tension in the party early on.

#SMALL ESSAY #these were super fun thank you val #c: maahes basekh #c: dyn el-safiya

[nolanhollogay]

“You're an idiot.” + jjedgar!

jj meets edgars aunts 🥰 also this is a little bit suggestive? like the implications are there i fear

+

It wasn't often that Edgar got the house to himself. In fact, it rarely happened. That was one of the main issues with living with five other people, no matter where you turned there was always someone there.

Though, technically, he wasn't actually alone. He pulled what was probably the oldest teen cliche in the book and invited JJ over the second the house was empty.

So, here they were, alone in Edgar's bedroom, lying in his bed. They weren't even doing anything but it felt like the beginning of something.

They were curled together, legs tangled and their left hands intertwined as they faced each other. JJ snuck his free hand under Edgar's t-shirt even though it was way too hot for that kinda thing.

The July heat was brutal, unforgiving even with the windows open and Edgar's ceiling fan at high speed, but he couldn't really feel it. Not when JJ was whispering to him.

"Did I tell you how good you look today?" His hand slid from Edgar's sweatslick back to his stomach, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. "Cause you do."

"I slept three hours and I need to shower," Edgar said, calling his bluff.

JJ's hand drifted higher, fingerpads warm against his sternum. "You're hot just by existing," he argued. "And I like when you get messy."

The double entendre was not lost on Edgar.

"Just kiss me already, you horndog,"

Sugary sweet, JJ mumbled, "Whatever you want."

Edgar slid his hand into his hair as he was kissed, holding him close.

+

If you were to ask Edgar how he ended up with JJ straddling his hips and kissing his neck, he wouldn't have an answer for you. Everything got a little hazy after JJ slipped his tongue into his mouth.

And that haze was the reason he didn't hear his three aunts – who were some of the loudest people in the world – not only entering the house, but coming up the stairs and entering his bedroom.

"¡Mierda!" Tia Manuela exclaimed as JJ, who didn't have his head in the clouds, pulled away and made direct eye contact with her.

She slammed the door closed so hard it rattled. Edgar made a noise like a kicked puppy, throwing his arm over his eyes. So much for their secret relationship.

"Well, that wasn't exactly how I wanted to meet your family," JJ joked, climbing out of his lap. He pulled Edgar into a sitting position, gently moving his shirt back into place. Edgar sent him a look that he hoped conveyed distress and he shrugged. "It could be worse. We coulda been banging."

"You're an idiot," Edgar grumbled.

"I'm your idiot," he replied with ease, pressing a kiss to Edgar's cheek.

"Tías, you can come back now," Edgar called, and the door opened just as fast as it closed.

The three of them – Tía Manuela, Tía Rosa and Tía Jasmine – stood there, a wall of women, watching them intently.

"Uh, hi. 'M JJ, but y'all knew that already." He gave an awkward little wave that made Edgar snortlaugh, pressing his forehead against his shoulder.

JJ grabbed his hand, playing with his fingers, and he turned to his aunts. "Don't tell Mamí, please. I wanna be the one to tell her."

"Our lips are sealed," Tía Jasmine said as Tía Manuela made a zipper motion over her lips.

Tía Rosa, who was the biggest gossip Edgar knew, asked, "What about your abuelo?"

Edgar laughed again. "He already knows. He caught JJ sneaking out last week."

JJ nodded, voice shining with pride as he said, "He thought I was a raccoon. Tried to shoot me with a bb gun."

#edgar ramirez #jjedgar #edgar asks #leaf tag 🌿 #my writing

[slimmestslime]

I didnt even know that vrchat can be used with just a pc. I am gonna check it out.

Anything I should know or something you would recommend?

gonna be real i thought vrchat was vr exclusive aswell until one of my friends laid a bombshell on me that it was indeed desktop compatible so. :fistbump:

heres some general advice/tips tho (under the cut)

1: the absolute second you're able to exit the tutorial world, go to Prismic's Avatar Search. ignore everything goddamn else infront of you and go there. grab yourself a good collection of avatars you know you'll use. genuinely nothing sucks more than walking into a world and feeling awkward about what your avatar is and having nothing else to change into

also i highly recommend going into a friends/invite only instance because not only will it negate social anxiety, but you wont have That One Guy blasting music or sitting next to the world's loudest industrial fan while you're surfing through the avatar catalogue

+ fair warning though, there is no filter against suggestive/triggering stuff so you'll just have to wade with caution. though its usually easy to tell if its Suspicious or not

2: you see that little icon in the esc menu? the one that says "change shield level"? i personally toggled mine completely off, and the standard setting is fine imo. no issues there, but if you wanna experiment and see true chaos, turn that off !!! also, if you're getting lagged to Shit by someone's avatar and/or uncomfortable due to them, you can hide their avatar via either selecting them in the launchpad, or finding them in the in-room list and doing it that way OR just. walking up to them (you will see the loading tip for hiding people's avatars probably a million times, but it is useful)

3: if you view the details on an avatar, you might see a little colored circle and then something like "good" or "poor" next to it. thats the performance indicator, and its this weird thing that vaguely gauges how laggy an avatar is / if they're viewable by default on quest i believe poor/very poor are hidden by default on quest, but i cant confirm that since >guess who doesnt have one

here's a shoddy infographic on the indicators anyway

as for stuff i recommend, the first three worlds i visited in public were pretty good for looking at a sample of the community. i think - Freddy's Custom Pizzaria (I HAD TO OKAY) by Fraca - VR Chess by NoLife1942 - 1's Optimized Box by 1 (also The Black Cat by spookyghostboo is good, but go there once you're comfortable. i can say the same for the optimized box but here especially)

thats about it/all i can say rn. most of my experience is really just two days of playtime and watching videos from the jameskii era. but this really is just roblox but less Cancer so i can safely guess-timate on some things here

#sorry for the wall #but yeah theres a bunch of stuff. just go out there and have fun #get comfortable at your own pace and go insane trying to figure out which avatar to use #<- i do that every single time i get into a world #slimslime talks #ty for the ask and hope you enjoy vrchat^^ #dont be afraid to ask more questions btw

[insanitori]

I, as an American, think everyone no matter your race, gender, sex, sexuality and health, have the human right to live and exist comfortably and happily. I think everyone deserves rights. I think that woman should have choices and shootings shouldn't happen and guns shouldn't have more rights than woman.

I think other cultures are so cool and other places are fascinating and people being different from me is so awe inducing. I don't know where every state in the world is, but I would love to learn about them and how they are different from me. I understand people do things different, not all places have Christmas, Halloween and 4th of July. I know that other places have different traditions and ideologies and ways of doing things.

I know there are Americans who say the stupidest, most offensive shit about other cultures. I don't support those people, believe it or not. I know our politics are fucked, but I also know we're not the only ones.

I know we're weird, but that's only because we run things different from you and we find you weird too.

So, for fucksakes, can we also please remember that the same way you all tell Americans that you're not all the same, we're not either? We don't all want to invade countries and make fun of your ways of life. We don't all love guns and shoving the worse things in our mouths. A lot of us don't want to get others sick or hurt. Not all of us want a bunch of old white men telling us what we can and can't do.

Yes, there are Americans that want the worse and yes, we know that's all you guys hear about Americans; but that's only because Dumbasses Scream the Loudest.

"Why don't you guys just scream louder?" Do you think we're not trying? Do you think we're all just either dumb or being bystanders? No, we're trying. We're really trying. We're trying to progress and get better.

But the issues is that drama is more entertaining than peace. Hate gets more traction than love. The news rather talk about a school shooting and gun rights. "Who cares if that celebrate donated to charity, did you hear how they cheated on their spouse?"

The worse is always brought to the front.

"Lol, just leave American then!" Not everyone has the time, energy, money or health to just leave. Some are afraid to leave and be treated like shit for being an American, the same way it happens here. Some people don't want to leave because there's stuff in American that we like, so we just want to make this hellscape better, any way we can.

And yes, I know this is going to get one of those "Look at this American complaining! Aww, boohoo, just fix your shit! You voted for xyz! You wanted xyz! You did xyz!! Freedom and Independence my ass. Hey! What's the Capitol of this non-American place? Huh?? Blah blah blah!" Comments. But...no..

Not all Americans get a say in what's going on. Not all Americans said something terrible. Not all Americans think something terrible. Not all Americans are know-it-alls.

Stop criticizing us when we try to learn about others and expand our knowledge. Stop jumping us when we try to ask questions. Stop hating when we're interested in something we're not use to, but you are. Stop feeling the need to insult us because we don't know something and feeling the need to use the word "American" is such a hateful way.

We're just doing our best to get better.

So please... Please... Stop treating Americans like they're all the same. Cause we're not. A good majority of us really want the best and are trying our best. Unfortunately, there are others who are louder and more powerful than us.

Love you all 💜

#america #america appreciation post #give us a freaking break we already get shit from our own country #just love each other #please #we're not all evil dumb fucks #long post

[spacecasehobbit]

Decided to make a political post, but honestly? Feel free to ignore it if this is not your space for politics or you're too tired to pay attention right now or whatever. Let's be real - the world will not live or die on how many people reblog my tumblr post about politics. (Also I'm from the US, so my perspective is pretty US-centric.)

Now that's out of the way!

There's a few things that I think a lot of people need to accept if we want to stop the right wing from dragging us further down. Things that are uncomfortable, that don't always make people feel good in the moment.

First, your anger is only useful up to a point. If your anger motivates you to learn things, to get more involved in the political process or community activism in whatever ways you are able to, if it motivates you to donate to reputable sources fighting to provide aid to the most marginalized communities? Then that's great! Your anger has been useful!

When it only motivates you to get mad that everyone else hasn't fixed your problems, so why should you care about theirs? When your anger is telling you that other people haven't listened to you, so why should you listen to anyone else? When you have heard the same well-meaning platitude for the 900th time and all you want to do is scream at the person who said it that if they aren't fixing the problem then they're part of the problem? That is when your anger is unhelpful. It is also when it probably feels best to be angry. When it is hardest to let go of that anger, because it feels like a protection against a world that has gone out of its way to demonstrate how little it cares for you.

Deciding that you won't care about anyone who hasn't cared about you first, though, is a great way to ensure that no one will care about anyone. And then we really aren't going to fix anything.

Second, people really do need to work on finding tools and resources to educate themselves. And by that, I don't mean listen to everyone who screams the loudest on the internet about their personal marginalization. I mean seek out actual verified, factual resources on politics, history, and the state of the world at large. Seek out resources on critical thinking and how to spot people who are lying to you. This isn't something I can teach anyone over a tumblr post. I can't spoon feed anyone a list of links that will teach you How To Think. Partly because following a list of steps that were fed to you by yet another tumblr post from a total stranger is the opposite of critical thinking. Partly because I don't know the background of anyone who might read this post, so I don't know what your level of education is, what resources you might or might not have access to already, what you already know and what you might need to unlearn before you get started.

I can tell you that you should look into your local community, and find out what resources are available to help you get started - your local library is probably a really great place to start, here. Librarians love helping people learn new things/find the resources to learn new things, in my experience.

I can tell you that taking classes in statistics is probably really helpful. I see a lot of issues with people conflating statistical trends with individual examples from a diverse set.

I can tell you that a lot of it might be difficult, and uncomfortable, and boring, and require you to maybe work at things you aren't naturally good at. It might occasionally make you feel kinda stupid, and slow, and frustrated. (I can tell you that you aren't alone in that feeling, and that it doesn't actually mean that you're stupid or incapable of learning if you have trouble at the start. I can tell you that just because something takes a while to click, that doesn't mean it isn't worth learning. I can tell you from experience, my own and experiences that students have shared with me over the years, that even if you struggle due to a learning difficulty like ADHD, that doesn't mean you can't learn things that are difficult or uncomfortable or boring.) If you give up because learning is hard and boring and asks things of you that you don't always want to give, or if you decide that learning is bad if it makes you uncomfortable, then you have given up on one of the single strongest tools that you can use to empower yourself in this world.

The right wing loves when people scorn education, because lack of education and lack of resources people can use to educate themselves makes them easier targets to manipulate.

Maybe most importantly, though, I can tell you to do the hard and often deeply uncomfortable work of looking inside yourself and identifying where you lie to yourself and where your own biases have done their best to put blinders on your view of things. Here, I'm not just talking about people with privilege, either. Everyone has biases, no matter who you are. It's much more comfortable, when we feel hurt and angry and ignored, to assume that it is everyone else who needs to do that work on themselves and then ignore our own bias goggles. It is also much more comfortable, when we are hurting and angry and ignored, to blame everyone else for not doing "enough," instead of looking at what we are still able to give the people around us even when maybe they don't deserve our help, because they never bothered to look over and help us.

But that goes back to the thing about anger. If you give up on helping other people because no one helped you? Then we are all guaranteed to lose.

#politics #US politics

[mayaflowerxs]

hi there! can you do nsfw a-z for hendery? thank you! <3

NSFW Alphabet w/ Hendery

Warning: Smutty!

A/N: Thank u for the request hope you enjoy!

Aftercare:

He’s alllll for aftercare. Even if he’s not there with you and are doing phone sex he still does it. He’s asking you if you’re okay, to go get cleaned up, get some rest, eat and take a few minutes to yourself. If he went too hard on you he tends to stay with you whether it’s on the bed cuddling or just flat out following you to make sure you’re not having a hard time walking or doing any other activities that’s requiring you to move. Your safety means the world to him so even when you tell him you’re fine he won’t stop budging. At one point I can see him brushing you off and sending you to the couch or bed while he cleans and fixes the place up.

Body Part:

Not really a body part but he loves your hair. He loves tugging your hair just as much as he loves his being tugged.

Cum:

In any hole really. Hendery is just a sucker to see you full of him. He doesn’t like it splattered on you because he’s convinced it’s being wasteful and he may or may not have a breeding kink 😶

Dirty secret:

He has an oral fixation. Like the dude is literally in love with eating you out and sometimes it can get too much for you when you two get intimate. He can’t help it he loves it so much but won’t show it because he thinks you might get annoy of him constantly attacking your pussy :( so when you two do get handsy he seriously does not hold back at all. If he gets to a point where he has you practically sobbing then so be it but he’s not going to back off until he’s for sure done with you (if that’s what you’re into)

Experience:

I see him as experienced. Had a partner here and there and definitely went past making out. But oh boy they just didn’t hit the way you do. Everything he always wanted to try out was with you which is why it’s all the more special. Because you’re so accepting that he grows more and more confident in pleasuring you.

Favorite position:

Definitely doggy and cowgirl. He needs to be in charge. Now when you’re in cowgirl he never once has you think you’re in charge. I see him as one who’s very dominant behind all that goofiness. He’ll have you leaned down on his chest, an arm around your neck and the other around your waist as he relentlessly pounded into your fucked out cunt. Not holding back until every last drop is deeply stuffed in.

Goofy:

Okay he’s definitely goofy in the beginning. He’ll crack a hole here and there and overall just make it all the more comfortable. But as soon as the first moan leaves one of your guys mouth he’s inner dom comes out and no more Hendery now you’re face with Kunhang.

Hair:

Honestly it’s one or the other. No I’m between he’s a pretty confident man so he won’t worry whether he still keep it nice and trimmed to bare. If he wants to leave it as is he will and same goes for you. He literally does not mind what you do with your girl down there as long as he’s stilling tapping it it’s literally all that matters to him smh.

Intimacy:

The only time there’s real intimacy is if you two have been away for a long time. Missing you so much just as has him wrapped around you the entire time. And when you two are climaxing he’s pressing kisses to your shoulder, temple, lips anywhere silencing telling you, you did a good job and he loves you so so much.

Jerk off:

Oh yeah. He does it quite often. The boy literally is a puppy who grew attachment issues. He tends to miss your touch and presence and eventually that longing turns into sexual frustration that he just can’t tame. Kinda surprised how he still hasn’t been caught cuz of how often he does it especially since he shares his room. He loves to jerk off with you, so phone sex is a must.

Kink:

The biggest breeding kinker. Bondage. Those are his go to but he’s up for anything. Nothing is ever a routine when it comes to him he always has to try something new, nothing to big of a new but just something to spice things up. So things like choking, he grew fond of that as well. He also tried using ice but it only irritated him because the ice wouldn’t stop sliding down so that was a big turn off for him which only resulted in him taking out his frustration on you, annoyed that it didn’t work out to well but hey you didn’t mind. You got fucked by a frustrated Hendery that’s a pretty win win for you.

Location:

Okay hear me out, Hendery is literally in denial when it comes to this. But the man can literally do it ANYWHERE. Just with the right amount of edging and or sexual tension is why gets him to snap. Usually when his mind isn’t going fuzzy and he’s not in a lustful state he won’t even think to the idea of taking you in a public restroom. Or fucking you in the car in a parking lot filled with other cars. But as soon as you begin to tease him or whisper him how much you need him he slowly starts turning into the dommy man you oh so love just like his regular self and before you know it you’re coming back home with a slight limp.

Motivation:

How lost you get. You will be minding your own business but won’t notice how every move you’re making is a bit more seductive to Hendery’s eyes. He snaps as soon as you flash him that ‘innocent’ smile at him and that’s when he has you pinned. He also loves how confident you get, when you’re in the mood you don’t hold back. Already on a mission to tag Hendery’s whereabouts and pounce on him. Seriously ends up falling more in love with you when he’s all of a sudden gets dragged away from his activities and pushed onto a surface to lay or sit on. Biting his lip as you begin to attack him in kisses. Yeah he’s a goner right then and there.

No:

Honestly Hendery says no to anything he considers not that fun or interesting. Like the ice, won’t ever do that again what a waste of time and ice.

Oral:

My god YES. He loves you sucking him but usually he gets impatient because he’s the one who wants to eat you out. Might get a bit selfish because you like oral too so he might take up your time just so that he gets to work on you. The boy literally loves eating pussy he can go for hours and not get tired. Though eventually it gets too much your hands are pushing at his head and legs desperately trying to shut, hot tears running down your cheek by how sensitive you’re getting. Close to seeing spots.

Pace:

He has a good pace. Not too fast or slow, doesn’t stop often nor does he pound into you continuously without break. He knows exactly what pace to go which is right in the middle of it all which is what gets you to cum hard. His pace reflects on his thrusts and stamina and when all three come together he gets his baby happily pleasured which is all that matters to him.

Quickies:

Into it definitely. Hendery is overall a sex addict. That’s the truth. And the thing is he does good when you’re not around, for some time. But once your in view, in arms length or just the mention of your name is an instant click in his brain to desperately fuck you to tomorrow. Always before practice, after concerts, before grocery shopping. Hell he might even drag you to the bathroom and fuck you while you two were in the middle of shopping. He’s all for it and he’s not ashamed of it.

Risk:

Doesn’t give a fuck. Quite frankly he wishes someone catches you two in the act. Just the mere thought already has him climaxing so hard. Just seeing the shocked face of someone catching him fucking you balls deep is probably a deep desire of his. Like I said earlier this man can fuck you anywhere and won’t care who can see.

Stamina:

This boy has such a high sex drive he’s learned how to keep a high stamina. Hell even after you two are finished he still might have some energy he still needs to let off but never acts upon it because he sees how tired and worn out you are he just no longer has the heart to keep you going. You already did so much for him his needs can wait.

Toys:

Yes! I see Hendery as secretly kinky so using toys is a must for him. He’ll mostly use them to edge you on, yes he might like using them but he will never have a toy make you cum. If anything only he can, not even a toy shall do that to you. I also see him as the type to have lots of phone sex with you and have you use them but as soon as you’re close to cumming he’ll demand you to get rid of em and use your fingers to finish you off.

Unfair:

It’s a 50/50 for him. Usually he likes to tease you but not for long. He’s not the biggest fan of not giving you what you want.

Volume:

I feel like he’s one who’s kinda shy to show you his sounds of pleasure when you first go out but the more he gets comfortable and the more you reassure him he gets more vocal. Now that doesn’t mean he’s the loudest mf, I feel like he is only ever loud when he hits the spot to the point where his fingers are practically leaving a bruise on you by how good it feels. But other than that he’ll most likely grunt and have heavy breathing. Sweat running down his forehead which is what gets you going and have you get him to grunt louder when you either ride him faster or squeeze around him.

Wildcard:

When he plays video games with the boys he tends to have you on his lap throughout the game. Cock warming is his absolute favorite. He treats it like a challenge. How long can he have you on his lap without fucking you and usually it lasts around four rounds until he’s saying goodbye and fucking you from behind. Letting all his sexual needs on to you who is currently shaking his desk top like crazy.

X-ray:

Feel like he’s a bit over average. I feel like he’s more long than girthier but doesn’t mean it’s skinny as hell. Don’t get it twisted the boy be packing no doubt.

Yearning:

The man craves for you literally all the time. The only time he doesn’t yearn for you is if scheduling is kicking his ass and he’s too sleep deprived to even eat properly. Even then he might make it up by having lazy sex with you as soon as he wakes up. You guys have sex pretty regularly, if anything it’s a lot than regularly. You must have some nice working birth control because man with all these rounds and you’re still not knocked up. Only making it a challenge for Hendery to succeed in. And let me tell you once he challenges himself he most definitely succeeds.

Zzz:

Hendery is either or. It’s either he’s so worn out of his energy he falls asleep or he still has some energy left and uses that to clean up and yourselves. Usually because of how much he puts you through you’ll be the one knocked out so he’ll probably distract himself by playing the drums or doing what Hendery usually does.

#nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct reactions #nct smut #nct imagines #hendery #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv hendery #hendery nct #nct hendery #wong kunhang

[radexchangeprogram]

This is a random one but can I request head cannons of the Brothers and Dateables reacting to an MC that’s actually a half demon but was really great at hiding her demon side since she grew up in the human world? They see a demon man just bounding towards MC before the boys could do anything MC’s like “DAD! 😃” before jumping in his arms like a child. Around her Dad she gains fangs and horns like him but she reverts back to normal when she wants to. The boys are like “Why didn’t you say anything?” And she’s like “I’m just used to my human side” or “You never asked 🤷🏾‍♀️”

Of course! I love this idea. I didn’t get a chance to proof read this so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes.

Author’s notes at the end (marked by *s)

Spoiler warning for up to chapter 17 to be safe. Especially with Belphie.

Half Demon GN!MC Headcanons

General

Everyone noticed that you never seemed too bothered by the fact that you were surrounded by demons, but figured you were just rather good at adapting.

This theory was proven wrong at a party Lord Diavolo hosted.

As you chatted with the brothers, a large demon with griffon wings, a lion’s mane, and horns similar to a gazelle began to head in the direction of your group.

The demon, who the others instantly recognized as Duke Vapula, walked up to them with a cheeky grin.

The brothers were instantly on guard, Mammon even growling slightly, as it was extremely uncommon for anyone to approach them so casually.

Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, and Solomon all took notice and were prepared to intervine should something happen.

You turned around to see what the issue was and let out a loud gasp.

“DAD!”

Lucifer

Absolutely dumbfounded. How did he not know about this? He read your files to the point of practically memorizing them before you came here and he swears there was nothing about you being a half demon.

He was honestly a bit embarrassed that he didn’t know about something this major.

When confronting you, all you did was say that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that you figured they already knew.

You really give him a migraine sometimes.

He feels a bit relieved that he doesn’t have to worry as much about you dying, though.

If you wish, he may start teaching you demonic etiquette, such as having you shift form at formal events.

If you prefer your human heritage, he won’t pressure you to conform to your demonic ancestory.

Mammon

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN HIS HUMAN ISN’T ENTIRELY HUMAN?!?

The loudest about his displeasure about not knowing.

“I’m your first man! I’m supposed to know everything about you!”

When you explain to him that you’re more comfortable with your human half, he calms down a little.

Tries to call you ‘stupid half-demon’ but it doesn’t feel the same as ‘stupid human’ :(

You tell him he can just keep calling you ‘stupid human’ :D

Wonders if he can get your dad to pay him for ‘providing his child with such incredible protection’.

You immediately tell him no.

Leviathan

Holy shit this sounds like something straight out of an anime!!!

Very upset that you didn’t tell him, you’re his Henry! You’re supposed to tell him these kind of things!

When you shrug and simply say that no one asked, he gets even more pouty.

You make up with him quickly by offering to play games with him all night.

Extremely curious about your demonic form for the primary purpose of cosplay. Do you know how many more characters you can be if you have a tail or wings?!?

You might inspire some fanfiction. (half demon Henry x Lord of Shadows au slow burn 100k words, def not Leviathan projecting no not at all-)

Satan

He is extremely shocked. Not only did he have no idea, but half demons are extremely rare.

From what he’s read, most half-human half-demon offspring don’t survive past birth and all documented cases that have survived reside in the Devildom so that their powers can be better managed.

He asks you about this and you reply that you’re actually quite good at controlling your powers, but that you prefer living as a normal human.

He’s not upset that you didn’t tell him, but he has a billion questions.

How long is your lifespan? Do you take more after your demonic father or your human mother in terms of power?What are your weaknesses?

He really wants to learn more about human-demon hybrids and will ask you to help in his studies.

Also a bit excited as your father is well known for some for his knowledge and writing about the sciences. He wants to discuss some of it with you, assuming you’ve read what your father has written.*

Asmodeus

Oh he is so excited.

A bit relieved that his charm isn’t wearing off, it just doesn’t work because you’re the child of a demonic duke!

You know those boiling hot springs he talks about visiting? Well he’s happy to learn that you actually can join him without fear of your skin melting off!

He’s not upset that you didn’t tell him, getting mad over stuff like that can cause wrinkles.

He will absolutely want to help you groom your horns/wings/scales/tail.

He already has shown you a lot about demonic fashion trends, such as extra clothing that can be fitted around demonic extremities, but now he actually can actually have you try on some! Do you prefer gold tail bangles or jeweled horn cuffs?

Beelzebub

Relieved that Duke Vapula wasn’t looking for a fight.

He can’t help but smile a little when you hug your dad. It makes him happy that you love your family.

When you blush and tell him that it just slipped your mind to tell everyone about your heritage, he isn’t upset.

Happy that he doesn’t have to be so scared of accidentally hurting you with how strong he is.

If you’re able to safely eat some more demonic food, he will absolutely get you to try some of his favorite foods that normal humans would die upon eating.

Overall, you’re still the MC he has grown to love and doesn’t treat you too differently.

Belphegor

Is now more awake than he has been the entire evening.

Half demon? Nah this is just some dream.

Is understanding when you explain to him that you prefer being human and living as a human.

He’s happy he found out after making amends with you. He used to despise half-demons just as much as normal humans, seeing them as repulsive.

He still very much treats you the same, but is a bit annoyed with his brothers.

With knowledge of your demonic blood coming to light, they drag you out even more often and naps with you are becoming rarer.

If you get too overwhelmed with his brothers constantly wanting to try things they thought would previously kill you, he will be more than happy to lend you some of his hiding spots. He does charge the small fee of getting to take a nap with you though.

Diavolo

Similar to Lucifer, is shocked that he didn’t know before you came to the Devildom.

You aren’t the first half-demon he’s met, but he is surprised that a demon of Duke Vapula’s rank had a child with a human.

He’s actually very excited to learn that you’re a half-demon who is in more in touch with your human side. He feels a lot more relieved that you aren’t as defenseless as previously thought.

He does, however, make absolute sure that you have full control over your demonic powers. Every other half-demon lives in the Devildom for a reason and he can’t have someone who is technically one of his subjects accidentally cause mass destruction.

He invites you for tea more frequently, asking so many questions about how being raised in the human world as a half-demon was.

He likes to exchange stories with you about your younger years and the power fluxes you both struggled with as you grew.

Tells you that should you ever wish to live in the Devildom that he would be more than happy to make the needed arrangements.

Barbatos

He knew the whole time. When Diavolo asked him to look into the success of the program, he made note of your heritage right away.

However, he decided that keeping this information hidden when he saw that you were raised human and preferred to be seen as human.

When he explains this to everyone, you can’t help but feel thankful.

While some of the others make no effort to hide how annoyed this makes them, he doesn’t mind. He knows he made the right choice keeping this from everyone and doesn’t regret it at all.

Barbatos is actually a pretty good friend of your father’s and grew up with him. He actually met you when you were a baby because of this.*

Solomon

He has seen a lot in his years in the world of magic, but nothing like this.

Usually, half-demons were very easy to spot as they struggled to control their powers, but you practically had it down to an art!

You explain to him that you’re actually pretty good at keeping your powers under control. He’s rather impressed by this and will ask to see your spell work.

Thinks it’s a little funny that he has a pact with your dad.*

Like Satan, he wants to know all about you. Unlike Satan, he is going to actually conduct experiments instead of stick to interviews.

He has a new potion that he wants you to try almost every day now.

Can half-demons make pacts? If so, you have now been added to the list of demonic beings he wants to make a pact with.

Simeon

Very surprised considering he’s blessed you before.

Blessings aren’t supposed to work on anything of demonic nature so he’s baffled.

When you explain to him that you were raised human and prefer to live as human, he smiles.

He comes to the conclusion that you being a good person must be greater than the demonic blood in your veins.

He treats you the same overall, knowing that you’re still you no matter your heritage.

Luke

Absolute denial.

There is no way someone as nice as you is part demon! He refuses to believe it!

Gets upset and accuses you of trying to manipulate him, which you quickly deny.

When you explain to him that you prefer being human, he huffs.

Simeon gives him a bit of a talking to, about how you’re still the same MC who he sees as a big sibling.

He bakes you some apology cupcakes for being rude to you.

You sometimes shift form to mess around with him, it never fails to make him let out a shocked yelp before he snaps at you for picking on him.

Everyone (except Luke) thinks it’s funny tbh.

Author’s Notes:

*Duke Vapula is described as being able to bestow knowledge about all science contained in books.

*Barbatos is also a duke in The Goetia. I thought a fun nod to this would be to have them as friends.

*The Goetia talks about the 72 demons that King Solomon evoked. Vapula is one of the demons that he evoked. The game actually references this by talking about his 72 pacts. Asmodeus and Barbatos are both included in the 72 demons which is why he has pacts with both of them in the game :)

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me Mammon #obey me Leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #Satan x reader #Asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #solomon x reader #simeon x reader #luke x reader #obey me headcanons

[soldrawss]

Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive. 

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames. 

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since. 

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

 Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside. 

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back. 

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out. 

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain. 

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo. 

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway. 

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable. 

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world. 

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they. 

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do. 

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties. 

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away. 

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

#my work #one piece #monkey d. luffy #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #asl brothers #age gap au #oh ho look at me #my fics all start after this moment when sabo is overseas #so this is just context for that. #enjoy please and sorry in advance #i've thought too much about this au #it lives rent free in my head always

[worm-writes]

I'm having memory issues to lets give Tucker some aswell. @imdeadtiredtm @ghost-pasta @faeroseghost @bibliophilea

Tucker has a problem. He knows he has a problem because it's consistent, always lacking at the back of his brain, taunting him while he tries to ignore it. He doesn't know when it began, but he knows that some days everything goes fizzy and next thing he knows, a whole day has passed with no memory of what or how it played out, and it keeps happening to the point he doesn't understand why Danny and Sam shared worry glances when he asks them to repeat what they just said. They keep telling him that there's something wrong, that he needs help, that he needs to tell someone about it, but he just can't. He'll go home, laugh and smile at his dads jokes while his mom scolds his baby sister for spilling her food on the floor while eating dinner and Tucker doesn't want to ruin the moment so he waits. Waiting ends up with him getting up in the morning, the buzzing faintly in the distance as he doesn't remember finishing the dinner, he doesn't remember what happened after or how he even hot to bed, and his mama smiles sadly at him from the doorway, a knowing glint in her eye as she tell him to get ready for school. The buzzing gets louder at the sight.

He goes to school with a smile,, trying to ignore the buzzing in the background while Tucker meets up with his friends,, they also have that knowing glint. Danny comments on his eyes, telling him that he won't look at them in the eyes and they are shifting towards every sound, and Sam jokes that he needs a therapist. That Jazz would be willing to help, but the way she says it is never really a joke as she gives him a side hug and changes the topic. It's slightly off putting to be told to talk to his best friends older sister, you she just got into her dream college and barely has time to face them. Then again, they barely had time to face time anyways with all the new baddies that seem to appear every day. Turns out, the ghost zone is bigger than they previously thought, after that one weird ghost lady named Lily kidnapped Danny for his ghost shots, it became apparent that his powers were abnormal so now it's an even more free for all with more baddies.

Tucker sucked in his teeth as he realizes he's reached home, he doesn't remember after the first period, after the buzzing got louder and now so does his temper. He tried to remember what mama always told him. She said it so much that it was almost etched in his head, why can't he remember? Tucker groaned and sat on the side of the curve, uncaring about the steps to the door, or how he got here. His mama said it all the time, every time he was in pickle. Oh why can't he remember? It hurt, his mama always left a large impact on him, she was his number one supporter and always cheered him on, even after he started losing his hearing. It's starting to tear him apart.

He clutched his head and squeezed heels eyes shut. He doesn't want to forget those memories he's had, he can't! These were his happy memories, things found randomly to bring out for a small laugh, or to cheer him up, just why can't he remember? Tucker groaned in frustration, first it was hearing, not his memories!? What's next? Is he going to lose a limb while out helping Danny hunt ghosts? He knows he's probably jingling himself but every single time something new happens, it seems to all go wrong now. Is the world out to get him and his friends? Is that it? The observant are probably laughing at him and his struggles.. Tears started to form but refused to fall, and the world started to fade around him. Tucker pulled his hearing aids off and blankly stared at them in his hand, buzzing growing and thoughts starting to slip away.

Distinctly, with the little hearing he had left, Tucker heard a small speaking sound, just barely past the sound of a car horn, that grew louder until it stopped right next to him. A glowing shoe tapped him with no response. There was a bit more squeaking before his unoccupied hand got tugged away from his head and something warm was pressed against it. A mug, and a dark blue glowing hand that was keeping it there. Tucker looked up just the slightest bit to see the mouth of the ghost, which was in an extremely soft smile, before looking back at the mug. Thoughts fuzzy and the buzzing the loudest, Tucker placed his hearing aids down and pulled it towards his lips, and without a thought, took a large gulp. A small part of him knew there would be consequences later of taking something from a ghost without knowing what it was, but it went down his throat like a warm drink on a cold day, reminding him distinctly as hot chocolate.

The more he drank, the quieter the buzz got, the clearer his thoughts got. Tucker almost finished the cup before he realized what he had done and jolted, before going to put the mug down. Only to be stopped by the same blue hands, much bigger than his now that he's a bit more aware. Without much more resistance he finished it. He grew hazy again but this time with memory, memory of when he first got his hearing aid and he and his mom had gone to go get ice creams before his dads came home.

"Mijo, whenever you are struggling you gotta pick yourself up, go to the nearest person you trust, and say 'I need help' don't ever feel embarrassed or scared to make sure you are the best you can be." She said before leaning down and wiping his ice cream covered face with a napkin. He laughed, pushing her away lightly, telling her to stop but she just smiled and held it out for him to grab. Mama always said weird things like this, but she always said this the most.

Tucker gasped, he remembered! He smiled really wildly, before getting up and running to his house, slamming the door open without any care and jumping into his mothers arms. His mama was right, he should never be scared to ask for help. She gently squeezed him, and tears seemed to come out faster. Oh wait! The ghost and his hearing aids! He jumped back, and went to turn before his mama stopped him and asked what was wrong. Tucker reached up and felt along his ears, the aids were ready in, he turned towards the open door and peeked out, the street was completely empty and the lights were on, the ghost nowhere to be seen.

His mama asked him again what's wrong, Tucker looked back at her with a sad smile before closing the door. Sorry Danny but he could never hide the truth from his mama, he won't tell her his secret, but he will get help. Wandering back into his mama's arms, Tucker started to explain.

#tucker foley #hes hard of hearing #memory #whump #danny phantom #thank you so much for the kind souls who helped me make my oc #ahhh #im so excited