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sluttywoozi · 6 months

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It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x f!reader

It's Nice To Have A Friend Masterlist

Rating: T | WC: ~2.8k | Genre: romcom, best friends to lovers, unrequited love(?)

Warnings: alcohol mention, suggestive thoughts

Jeonghan wakes with a start, your body heavy with sleep on his and your warm breaths puffing out over his chest. He was having the most incredible dream and, for once, he remembers every bit of it.

You, in that white dress he’d seen in the store window. You, walking down petal littered cobblestones to meet him at the end of an altar. You, vowing to be his wife and sealing it with a kiss. You, telling him you love him and never want to be apart.

He wants it, desperately. And not just the wedding part, but the married life part too. The grocery shopping together, the decorating the house, the dinner parties where your friends get too wasted and have to sleep over. The brushing teeth side by side, the waking up together every day, the going to sleep side by side every night.

He knows there’ll be hard parts, fights and stress and difficulties to face, but it’ll be the two of you against the problem and you’re a team that never loses.

And maybe he’s a bit hasty in deciding to marry someone he hasn’t even dated, but you’re his best friend in the whole world. There could be nobody better for him than you, and nobody better for you than him. He knows this, and he hopes you know it too.

He also hopes you won’t be too upset if you wake up alone. He’s got some jewelry shopping to do.

Jeonghan can tell you’re confused when he returns to the hotel. He was gone a bit longer than he meant to be, missed breakfast without even leaving a note, but if you were really worried you would have texted him. It appears you’re only slightly worried, waiting for him on the couch as you are with a furrow between your brows and your lip caught between your teeth.

“Where’d you go?” You ask as he lets the door close with a click.

“Just for a walk, I woke up early and didn’t want to disturb you,” he lies, with probably not enough guilt but more than he’d feel for lying to anyone else.

“Oh,” you deflate in relief, “How was the weather? Do you think we could get one more beach day in?”

One more. Right. This trip ends tomorrow, meaning the bubble will pop and you’ll return to your normal lives. Jeonghan can’t stand the thought of going back to a reality where you’re not his wife, but if today goes well, he won’t have to.

“It looked a bit cloudy, but it may clear up in a couple hours. Do you want to go to the farmer’s market at the piazza? We could get lunch and walk around,” he offers, wanting to save the beach until later.

“Yeah! That sounds so nice, let’s go,” you beam, shooting up off the couch to skip to the bedroom and pick out an outfit. He follows at a sedate pace, almost nervous to see what you’ll choose to wear. You only have sundresses left, and those are deadly to him. They were even before he figured out he has feelings for you, but now he really will be in danger of pulling you into some dark alley and ravishing you.

You pick one of the less harmful options, a floral dress that flutters about your thighs but doesn’t cut too low in the front, giving him a chance to not lose his mind today. He thanks you with a kiss and a, “You’re so pretty,” before taking your hand and pulling you to the door, eager to get to the market and find something to eat.

Jeonghan pats his full belly and looks around serenely. You’re next to him on the bench, your face tilted into the sun and your eyes closed as you bask. He’s basking too, but not in the sun.

He’s basking in your presence, in the ability to sit so close to you and hold your hand like this, in the security of knowing that you’ll still be his when you go home, even if his plan doesn’t work out.

Obviously, he hopes it does, but he doesn’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, and if you don’t want what he wants, he’ll just have to live with it.

He thinks you might, though, want what he wants. You haven’t taken your ring off once, you’ve adapted incredibly quickly to being called Mrs. Yoon, and you’ve already been bickering with him like a married couple for your whole friendship. He knows those things don’t necessarily mean you want to marry him, but a man can dream.

It almost feels like he is dreaming. He’s sitting here on a bench in a piazza on an island off the coast of Italy. You’re here with him. There are wedding rings on your fingers and your thigh is pressed up against his. He can smell coffee and salt on the wind, the sky is completely clear and the bluest he’s ever seen, and every color seems more vibrant, from the teal of the sea to the ruby of the tomatoes for sale 10 feet away.

Your voice stirs him from his thoughts, “I wish we could stay.”

One side of his mouth lifts in a half smile before he presses his lips to your temple, murmuring, “Me too, baby, me too,” as he pulls back just far enough to gaze at you. Your eyes are still closed, the apple of your cheek and slope of your nose naturally highlighted by the sun. You’re wearing a little grin, as if you feel his eyes on you and know exactly what he’s doing.

He doesn’t mind and he definitely doesn’t stop, moving his focus from your face to the elegant arch of your neck and the curve of your collarbones, the spaghetti straps of your dress laying delicately on your shoulders. He wishes he could let his eyes travel lower but, considering the fact that it’s barely noon and you’re in a very public place, he supposes he shouldn’t.

“You gonna stare all day?” You ask teasingly, your head lolling to the side as you peek one eye open at him.

“I just might,” he teases back, knocking his knee into yours and pointedly returning his focus to your face. There’s a zip down his spine when your gaze locks with his, a jolt of electricity that used to feel more like static shock.

You nudge back and soon enough, you’re bumping elbows and knees and giggling like kids, completely unaware of the (mostly) fond looks you’re getting from other people. You spend half the day on that bench, just talking and laughing, before Jeonghan realizes you should probably be getting to the beach.

He jolts to his feet and takes your hand, tugging you behind him to the bus that will take you down to the shore just as it rolls up to the piazza. He’s not tentative about wrapping his arm around you this time, nor is he shy about pulling you into his side when the vehicle jostles you as it makes its way down the narrow streets of the town.

The sea comes into view slowly, as do the duo of lounge chairs Jeonghan requested. The area around the chairs is clear, an almost comical radius of ten or so feet empty before the sand is filled with umbrellas and loungers. The empty space just makes the duo stand out more, and he winces, wishing there was a bit more privacy.

He would have taken you out on the charter again, but the captain wasn’t available on such short notice and they wouldn’t give him a boating license after he admitted to intentionally capsizing four jet skis at once, so the beach it is.

Leading you to the pair of loungers, Jeonghan tries to ignore the shaking of his hands and the unsteadiness of his breaths, hoping you don’t notice either. It appears he gets away with his nerves, your focus on the drink tray and the book waiting for you in your bag. You settle in quickly, reclining in the chair and getting right into the next chapter, leaving Jeonghan some time to get things arranged.

Okay, he’s got the limoncello, he’s got the ring, and he’s got the list. It’s something he put together this morning because he knew you’d need some convincing of the logistics. You can be a very romantic person but you’re not known for your spontaneity, and getting married last minute on a trip to Italy seems like something that requires a bit of that. So, he put together this list addressing everything from what you’ll do when you get home to how many rooms your future house will have. It’s the most planning he’s ever done and his hand aches with all the writing, but it’s worth it if it helps convince you even a little.

He lets you read for a while, knowing you have four chapters left to finish so you can read the sequel on the plane. Your distraction gives him some time to try to calm the racing of his heart and the trembling of his fingers, though no amount of deep breathing seems to be helping.

All he has to do to execute his plan is drop the ring in the limoncello waiting for you. It should be easy, should be stupidly simple, but suddenly, it feels just that - stupid.

Why would he put the ring in alcohol? You’d have to rinse it clean before you could wear it and then you wouldn’t want to drink the limoncello because the ring was in it, and also what significance does limoncello even have? Yes, you’ve been drinking it this whole trip and yes, it may have fueled some of the heat that pushed you to confess to him, but does he really want to include it in your proposal, a story you’ll tell for the rest of your life?

His method of asking you isn’t even the only problem with his plan. It’s far too hot and far too bright, and there’s too many people on this beach, and you’re too exposed thanks to the radius he’d requested and everything is wrong, and he can’t ask you like this, but then how will he ask you?

All Jeonghan wants is to be married to you, he doesn’t understand why getting there has to be this difficult. It should be as simple as just telling you he wants to be with you for the rest of his life and asking if he can be your husband for real.

…

Wait. Why can’t it be that simple?

He turns to you, his mouth open to speak and change both of your lives, and finds you… sleeping. You’re sleeping, your book facedown on your chest and your head tilted towards him.

Jeonghan supposes he can wait a little bit longer.

Something buzzes on Jeonghan’s chest, stirring him from a dreamless slumber. His body feels warm despite the umbrella, the sound of the waves soothing him before he can even get annoyed about being awoken. The first thing he does is check to make sure you’re still there and when he looks over to find you unmoved, he breathes a sigh of relief.

He must have gotten a text, but he’s unsure who might’ve-

Oh. OH.

This is perfect, he thinks, reading the message and reaching over to nudge you awake. There’s not a lot of time to get to the hotel and then to the docks, but he’ll just have to make it work.

“Jeonghan, you don’t even walk this fast in the Lego store, what’s going on?” You huff, trying to keep up with him as he speeds down the wooden planks, your hand held tightly in his and your footsteps sounding behind him.

“You’ll see,” he teases, slowing his pace until you can walk next to him instead, the La Luce Stellare waiting for you just at the end of the dock. The sun is slowly sinking, the warm reds and oranges painting the sky into a perfect backdrop to the gently bouncing boat. It looks like the captain made it even more romantic somehow, with a sheer white curtain arch and fresh flowers all over the deck.

“What’s all this?” Your voice wavers, your steps slowing to a stop as you near the boat. He tries to tug you further, but you’re frozen where you stand.

“Jeonghan?”

He sighs, turning to pull you into his arms and sway you gently, hoping the contact will help you swallow his next few words.

“This is me trying to marry you.”

Your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open as if you want to speak but no words come out, just a strangled sound.

You cling to him when he pulls away, shock filling your face as he sinks down to one knee with a shaky grin and both of his hands grasping your left one.

“Y/n… I’m sorry you loved me by yourself for all this time, but I’m here now and I’m so in love with you, I feel like I could do anything. These past few days of being your pretend husband have been the best of my life, and I’m hoping you feel the same way. I’m also hoping that you’ll agree to marry me because I don’t think I can go one more second without being your real husband and having you as my real wife. I’m serious, I’ll throw myself off this dock right now.”

He relays all of this with tears in his eyes and a sincerity that almost scares him, but what’s scarier is the fact that he has no idea how you feel. You’re just standing there, your mouth open and your fingers trembling in his, as you process his words.

The longer he waits, the louder the roaring in his ears gets, the sound eventually overtaking his own shallow breathing and the crashing of waves in the background. He thought you were on the same page, but maybe that’s not the case. If this is too much, if he’s scared you off, if he’s ruined everything, he’ll-

“Yes.” You sound quiet, your voice barely discernible with the buzz still filling his ears.

“Y-yes?” He questions, swaying slightly where he kneels.

“Yes!” You’re more resolute now, with obvious joy in your voice, and through his watery eyes he can see that yours are shining.

The next thing he knows, you’re sinking to the ground and pulling him into a kiss, one that feels like more than a promise, more than forever, one that feels like everything. It sweeps him away before he can anchor himself, has him delving his hands into your hair and pulling you tighter against him as he sighs into your mouth.

He forgets time exists, forgets where he is, what he was doing before, what he’s doing after.

All he knows is you and the taste of your lips and the scent of your hair and the weight of the ring in his pocket.

Oh, right, that’s what he was doing.

He breaks away from you slowly, reluctantly, before reaching into his pants and pulling out the box he’d chosen this morning. It feels like eons ago, as does the clumsiness of his first plan, and he can only hope he still agrees with his choice of the ring that fills it.

It’s simple, elegant, but intricate enough to be interesting, just like you. He thought of you as soon as he saw it, and though he’s never been privy to your engagement ring preferences, he did happen to know your size. His fingers tremble as he plucks it out of the box and slides it onto your fourth digit, the diamonds glimmering in the waning light of the sun. It looks perfect on you, and he drags his eyes away from your hand to seek out your face, unsure of whether or not you’ll agree.

“Do you like it?” He asks apprehensively, brushing his thumb over your knuckles and biting his lip as he waits.

“It’s gorgeous, Hannie. I love it,” you whisper in response, your voice thick with tears. Relief floods his system, almost as much as when you agreed to marry him, and it’s like the last barrier to being with you forever falls away.

Well, the second to last barrier.

Now that the asking is out of the way, he needs to get you on that boat, exchange those vows, and kiss you for the first time as husband and wife.

Should be easy enough, only the slightest bit life-altering, right?

AN: surprise! if i kept this till i was happy with it, it would never see the light of day, so here we are!! there will be a smutty epilogue!!

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 29 days

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King the silly guys, Lupin III!

(for @dying-suffering-french-stalkers)

#lupin the 3rd #Of course I had to give him a silly pose. He is the silliest guy. A tangle of limbs in a nice Italian suit.#I have such fond memories of watching the Lupin III movies with friends.#Actually...It's really touching to be able to draw fanart for the series. A homage to a special memory.#Thank you for giving me this opportunity! Seeing your icon (Goemon) has been a true treat in my notifs this last year.#Yes I was a Lupin fan this whole time! I started with part 5 so I am not a particularly old fan.#(I had a little bonus comic to go with this of the rest of the crew but I ran out of time to polish it up...perhaps another day.)#For everyone else; I highly recommend watching 'A Women Named Fuijko Mine'. Mind the content warnings though.#It is very dark but a really *really* fantastic deconstruction on the femme fatale archetype. Not to mention visually stunning.#Castle of Cagliostro is a good recommendation if you want something more lighthearted.#And with that...raffle week has come to a close! Thank you all for waiting and participating!

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khaotunq · 9 months

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Khaotung Thanawat as Ray (Only Friends, 2023)

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gunsatthaphan · 7 months

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ok but,,, does that mean that Ray actually hugged his therapist at the end or,,,,?

#only friends #only friends series #only friends the series #only friends ep10 #sandray #ofts #gmmtv #was so immersed in that scene that I forgot it was in his imagination jkdhgdf #god we really cant have nice things can we #and now we're getting sandboeing next week #im not mentally equipped for this #please...#im gonna send jojo my therapy bill after this show is done istg

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chenouttachen · 3 months

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boc said false advertising allowed! this IS a romcom! this IS fun! they ARE in love!

#dff the series #dead friend forever #pheenon #tabarcode #barcode tinnasit #ta nannakun #like this makes it look like they’re having a nice time #and that the episode will be fun #but this show has never been fun #it is only pain #pain pain pain #boc will pay for the pain they’ve caused

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justafriend-ql · 8 months

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you BREAK mew's glasses? you make him get lasik?? oh! oh! jail for the writers! jail for the writers for One Thousand Years!!!!

#why can we never have nice things #only friends the series #ofts

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phefics · 4 months

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𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: pre-fred weasley x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and george smoke on the astronomy tower, and discuss your apparently obvious crush on his twin brother. (series masterpost)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

It was a cool evening in June, only a few weeks left in the school year when you snuck out of your dormitory, accompanied by George Weasley, and snuck up to the Astronomy Tower.

As you sat on the balcony, looking out at the night sky, you felt so incredibly lucky that you had stumbled into the same train car as the Weasley twins on the Hogwarts Express. Ever since that day, you had been inseparable. While Fred had been Sorted into Slytherin, you and George had both been Sorted into Ravenclaw, giving the two of you more opportunities to spend time together. You loved the twins equally, just in different ways.

George was your best friend, your confidant. You had all your classes together, played Quidditch together, lived right down the hall from one another during school. And Fred…Well, it was complicated.

He was also a dear friend, a fellow Quidditch player, someone you trusted and enjoyed spending time with immensely. But he was also impossible to be around lately, with his teasing smirks and his broad shoulders and his effortless humor.

As you had grown up together, Fred had become more than a friend, in your eyes. And it was terrifying, ridiculous, and utterly inconvenient. You had spent so long being completely content with your friendship, and then, almost out of nowhere, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t out of nowhere. Ever since you were young, Fred had always been right there. Making you laugh, hexing the boy who used to bully you in your third year, looking incredibly handsome in just about every outfit he wore, including his mother’s knitted Christmas sweaters.

As you sat with George, your mind swirled with those thoughts of Fred and how it would probably ruin your friendship with both twins if you ever pursued it, a joint burning between your fingers.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” George asked, seemingly out of nowhere, his eyes not leaving the stars as he spoke, as if it were a casual question to pose.

You choked on the smoke in your lungs, hurriedly passing him the still-lit joint to avoid dropping it on the stone floor. It took a moment to regain your ability to breathe, the question having taken you off guard enough to send you spluttering. “What? Who are you even talking about?” you retorted, tone defensive.

“You know who,” George replied, finally turning to you, a knowing look on his face. “I mean, you aren’t very subtle about it, darling.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay, y’know. I’m not jealous or anything. Remember when we ‘dated’ back in Second Year? No offense, but I didn’t exactly feel sparks the one and only time we kissed.”

Laughing, you felt yourself relax despite his little interrogation. “Really? You aren’t upset?”

“Not even a little. I think you guys would be a cute little couple,” he teased. “And you’ll still be my best friend, even if you’re shagging my brother.”

Your blush deepend, and you smacked his shoulder playfully for his crude words. You felt happiness for a moment before the feeling faded into anxiety. “I just…I don’t think he feels the same.”

George scoffed. “Look, Fred is a bit thick when it comes to girls. He doesn’t like talking about his feelings, even to me. But when he talks about you, I can see the way he lights up. He gets this stupid smile on his face…It’s actually quite gross, you know.”

He laughed, which made you laugh, too. Your head fell onto his shoulder, feeling solace in your best friend’s touch. The whole Weasley family was very affectionate, while you had grown up in a stiffer household, your grandmother was too busy comparing you and Neville to your parents to verbally praise you, let alone spare a hug when it was needed.

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better? Because false hope isn’t gonna be helpful in the long run,” you said.

George met your eye, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Pinky promise, I’m not,” he said, holding out his hand.

You interlocked your pinky finger with his, relieved and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this little crush could go somewhere.

“Just…Give him time to realize it. I can try to knock some sense into him, if you want.”

You snort. “I can’t believe you’re his voice of reason. No wonder you two get into so much trouble.”

George poked your ribs, a mock-offended gasp slipping from his mouth. “Rude! I got into Ravenclaw, I clearly must have some reasoning skills, otherwise we need to call up the Sorting Hat and tell it that it fucked up.”

You laugh, and finish the rest of the joint between you two before standing, ready to sneak back to the dorms. The Common Room door opened with the answer to a simple riddle, and the usually bustling space was empty and silent, a perk of the late night adventure.

“So, what am I supposed to do now?” you asked.

“Instead of not-so-secretly pining for him, why don’t you actually flirt?” George replied.

The idea of flirting with Fred felt unnatural, but you realized that the way you two acted already could be easily translated into flirtatious behavior; the teasing, the physical affection. It wouldn’t be weird for you to let your touch linger, or crack a joke about finding him attractive. Small steps wouldn’t immediately alert him to a change in your behavior, but might help him realize there was a spark forming. As usual, George had brilliant plans.

Before heading to your dorm, you turned back to give him a hug. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Any time,” he replied, pressing a quick to your forehead before tiptoeing back to his own room.

In your bed, you thought over the conversation, feeling a whirlwind of emotions: First, embarrassment that you had been read so easily; but more importantly, hope and excitement at the idea that Fred could like you, want you the same way. What had once felt like an impossible fantasy now seemed much closer.

The school year was coming to a close, and you had already planned to spend part of your summer break at the Weasley’s home, which would give you more of an opportunity to spend time with Fred, and to explore what could become of your relationship.

It took some time for you to fall asleep, too giddy to relax, but you eventually settled and dreamt of freckled shoulders, hands in your hair, and hushed laughter.

#it's nice to have a friend #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley fic #fred weasley series #ophelia's fics #harry potter #hp

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blablaganov · 2 months

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Non is the one behind the mask and Jin is our living for now proof of that

So our homeboy just found out that no, Non didn’t ride off into the sunset with teacher Keng, but based on what we learned in episode 10 was handed over to Uncle Joe and vanished. And Jin’s initial reaction to this reveal isn’t horror at the thought that Non might already be dead, but anger at how the story of Non’s supposed escape with a teacher has affected his family?? Which is sweet, to care about them, but you just learned that your friend has really disappeared, so maybe focus on that first? But at least this reaction is consistent with what we’ve seen from him so far: Jin's response is emotional and explosive. It checks.

And then Tee drops the bomb - Non is dead. This should have been a huge shock for Jin, who was the only one to still hold on to the belief that Non was still out there, alive. Reactions of Tan and Phee is understandable; they have had years to accept that Non is most likely no longer alive, but Jin BELIEVED. So, I fully expected him to lash out, to start yelling at Tee, to start a fight. And what Jin gives me? Nothing.

Except for a murderous look, he does not react at all to the news about the death of someone he claims to care about and feel guilty towards. The character who shown to be impulsive, to react without thinking, whose emotions can be explosive DOESN’T SHOW US ANY REACTION. Which, of cource, is a reaction on itself, so my question is: Jin, sweetie, do you maybe have something to share with class?

Speaking of murderous looks. We’ve already seen them twice:

in the first episode, when Phee puts the tape on

And everyone from the original group looks various degrees of uncomfortable, especially after asked about Non, but not Jin. He is too busy trying to murder everyone with the glare until the mention of the camera snaps him out of it.

in the second episode, when the gang discusses what to do next

And again, while everyone’s anxiety is almost palpable, Jin is just standing there, looking disgusted by everyone but not in the slightest bothered by the fact that someone got Por impaled?? Someone left marks on his arms! The conversation isn’t merely about the possibility of Non’s ghost; it’s about the real, tangible danger lurking in the woods. And yet, Jin doesn’t look scared or concerned in any way, too busy trying to once again commit murder with the glare.

Knife

The marks on Por’s arms are the main reason I’m convinced that Non is the one hiding behind the mask. It's possible that Tan somehow slipped out of the living room and lured Por into the trap, but what about the marks? We’ve seen several times that Tan is one to outsource his murder, not too eager to harm with his own hands. Even after Tee’s confession about Non’s death, Tan doesn’t attempt to snatch the gun and kill Tee himself. So why get personal with Por? To convince everyone that it wasn’t an accident? But cuts don’t look ghosty; if anything, it’s a proof that a real, leaving person is behind it. And who has all the reasons to get personal with Por? NON And it with the same knife he used three years ago – a knife that someone present at the scene after Non got dragged away had to pick up and keep until now.

I am also mildly convinced that the knife attack is the main reason why Jin lied to the police in the first place. If he had admitted that Non was with them that day, everyone else would have probably said, 'Oh yes, he was with us, and he attacked us with the knife. He was screaming about killing us all, poor Top even got a scar. Here are the security camera recordings as proof.' We've already established that Jin is not the best decision-maker, so I can see how, from his perspective, lying to the police seemed like a better option.

And isn’t it interesting how Jin was the one who first noticed the cuts and also the one who took the knife in his hand to compare it with the cuts?

Jin, dear, no one said anything about someone hiding in the house...

Uncle Dang

I'm unsure which one of the brothers is responsible for this death, but it is interesting how closely it mirrors one of the scenes in episode 7.

In the past, Por sends Non to get food on Uncle Dang's bike, while he himself starts shooting. In the present, Uncle Dang dies delivering food for the boys on the same bike, simultaneously extinguishing their last chance of escape.

In the past, everyone was so eager to exclude Non and shoot the movie he wrote without him. In the present, they are willing to do anything just to get out of this place, and Por, bleeding out on the couch, needs it more than anyone. Sorry, but it's too late; this time around, you'll have to play your part the way Non wants you to.

Episode 7 is also where this dialogue between Jin and Por happens.

I know that logically Phee and Tan were the ones who slipped in the cassette, but were they also the ones who created it? Or did they just find it when they came to the house for the first time to scout it out? Because the last scene with Jin running out of the house was shot after Non's disappearance. It wasn't merely an old version; Someone intentionally added Non's scene post-credits. And who was the one doing all the cutting? Right.

Hallucinations

Jin’s hallucinations were what sold me on the "Non is alive" theory. Everyone who thinks Non is already dead also sees some version of Non/masked murderer. Not Jin, of course; he convinced Non to be alive and well, somewhere far away with teacher Keng. Oh wait… How is it possible that he believes something terrible happened to teacher Keng, but not to Non? That the video he took is the cause of teacher Keng’s death, but not Non’s? Haven’t they supposedly run off together? Unless Jin knows that Non is alive. Unless Non told Jin that Mr. Keng was killed by the mafia.

It also would explain Jin’s reaction after Phee confession.

The person you have a lot of complicated feelings about

so many that you decide the best time to bring up your past situationship is while you both are trapped in a creepy temple. One also doesn’t try to bite off the dick of someone they are indifferent towards

just confessed to being Non's ex-boyfriend and getting close to you to get information about him, and your first reaction is not a "Was Everything Between Us a Lie?" rage but a sad puppy "So You Never Saw Us As Friends?" Once again, Jin, sweetie, we need to talk about your priorities; also about the fact that you not once looked surprised about the whole thing.

Fun fact: One of Jin's listed hobbies is camping, so hypothetically he should know his way around the woods, yet he doesn’t even attempt to help Phee while they are looking for the way out of the forest. The only thing he does is complain and cling to Phee in a very damsel-in-distress fashion. And still manages to be the one who points in the right direction in the end. I'm not even sure if Jin’s shoulder dislocation is genuine because if horror movies have taught me anything, it's to never trust a character who injures themselves while escaping a murderer, especially when they then very conveniently trip over the air at just the right moment for another character to drop their weapon.

To sum it up:

Did he now?

#begging on my knees for DFF to stick with a horror ending #all i want is for Jin to find out he wasn't the one who published the video #for him to look around in horror #and have a nice little What Have I Done moment #dead friend forever #dff the series #DFF

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pandorasprongs · 10 months

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PROLOGUE | hold on to the memories.

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: stories of jamie and reader's friendship over the years, from age 7 to 17.

WARNINGS: language, slight body image/appearance issues, slight panic attack, vague descriptions of sex

A/N: yay! finally starting this fic with sort of an overview/background on their relationship, but there will be more flashbacks throughout the chapters. no gif for this one cause tbh i could not find one that fits the vibes here, but regardless hope you all enjoy the prologue!

Age 7

"You mind handing that back over?" You hear a voice coming from the other side of the fence as you pick up a loose football.

You turn to find a boy around your age in a football kit. His hair was completely waxed to one side, probably to keep it from covering his eyes while playing. You recognize his uniform as your school's football team's, though you're not sure if you've seen him before. Then again, you didn't know anyone in town yet. You had just moved to Manchester a few months ago, just as the school year started and while you had a few people to talk to in class, you didn't have any solid friends really.

You toss the ball back to the boy, who catches it swiftly. You think that's the end of it, so you start heading back to your house when he calls out to you again.

"Hey! What's your name?" You answer him, with him nodding in acknowledgment. "I think I've seen you around the school. I'm Jamie."

He reaches over the fence and extends his arm for you to shake it, despite the fact that you were already at your front door. You walk back and shake it, as he asks, "Do you wanna play football? I got a game tomorrow, but Mum's too busy to play goalie."

You had hoped your look of glasses, multiple layers of clothes, and generally un-sporty demeanor was enough to dissuade offers to play, but this Jamie didn't really seem to care.

"Maybe another time," You reply, but this boy is persistent.

"Okay, do you wanna watch me score goals?" He offers before glancing at the book tucked under your arm and pointing at it. "You can read while I play."

Once you realize that he wasn't going to quit, you finally agree. You head back inside to tell your mom that you'd be playing with your neighbor for the afternoon and since you already finished your homework, she was more than willing to let you go. She always said you needed some fresh air, which was why you were outside in the first place.

You walk back to your yard to find Jamie still standing where you left him, but this time he was practicing his dribbling. He was pretty good from what you knew about football, and walk over to his side of the fence. He stops when he sees you and starts leading you to his backyard. There was a goal net in the far back and some cones set up, probably to practice maneuvering the ball better.

Jamie turns to see if you're still following him and drags you to a small table with two chairs near the door to the house. "You can stay here and count my goals," he instructs you and you nod your head in understanding.

While Jamie kicked around the football, you continued reading your book, occasionally looking up at what the boy was doing. It was easy to keep track of the score since Jamie would be cheering like he just won the Premier League when he scored.

After getting bored of reading, you decide to ask Jamie to teach you how to play. You see his eyes light up and immediately drags you up from your seat. The first thing he teaches you is how to dribble the ball. He held your hands the whole time to stop you from falling over, but that only seems to make it harder for you to move around.

Once you finally got the hang of that, — meaning you no longer tripped over your own feet — the next few hours were then spent teaching you the other basics of football like passing and shooting. You only started to get decent at shooting when you realized that the sun was already setting.

"I think I have to go home now," You tell Jamie, whose expression suddenly fell at your statement. You go and grab your book from the table and wave at the boy. "It was nice playing with you!"

If he said anything in reply, you didn't hear it because you sprinted back around the fence and into your house. You take off your shoes, relieving the ache of kicking around the ball, and go to tell your parents everything you did that day.

—

The next time you see Jamie was Friday morning. He spotted you leaving your house for school and invited you to his team's football game that afternoon. "You just have to stay in school a little later. My mum said your mum might get worried, so she told me to tell you now so you can ask her."

You run back inside to do just that and after informing her that the other parents would be chaperoning the game, she agreed. You also take the chance to get your scarf and gloves because you hadn't realized how cold it was outside. She went out with you to tell Jamie the good news.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied, causing your mom to let out a chuckle at how polite the boy became. She finally sends you off to school and Jamie decides to walk with you too.

—

You couldn't help but be amazed at how well Jamie was playing. You knew that he was at least decent based on how well he taught you that day, but he was practically scoring all the goals for his team. None of the opposing players could even catch up to him, at times. You wonder how he kept his energy up despite the fact that it was freezing outside and he was only in shorts.

After the game, his team got hot chocolate to celebrate their win. You go to congratulate him, but find it hard due to the number of people surrounding them. Jamie was looking for you too, so the moment he spots you trying to make your way through the crowd, he heads to you instead and pulls you aside.

"Did you like the game?" was the first thing he says to you.

You immediately nod, "Yeah, it was really fun to watch! Congrats on winning."

Jamie shrugs, "Thanks, but it's really nothing, we've been on a streak for a while." You don't know if he's just being humble or bragging about his team, but either way, you're happy they're doing well.

Afterward, Jamie decides to bring you to meet his mom. She's quick to embrace you and mentions that Jamie's been talking about you non-stop, much to the boy's embarrassment. She hands you a hot chocolate of your own and you're grateful to be able to warm your hands. You lost one of the pair around lunchtime, so you've been keeping your hands in your jacket pocket the whole day.

While Jamie goes to change, you stay with Georgie as you savor your drink. She notices the lack of cover on your right hand and gives you an extra pair that she kept in her bag. It's clearly too big for you and its orange color clashes with the blue and white on your left hand but you're grateful regardless.

Soon after, Jamie's rushing out of the locker room looking cozy in a sweatshirt under his winter jacket. He's wearing gloves as well and when he notices your mismatched gloves, he takes one of his off and switches them with the orange one.

They're a much better fit and you thank Jamie for it. The boy adds, "My hands are bigger, so they won't slip off as easily."

"Come on, let's go home!" He adds, grabbing one of your hands with his left and his mom's with his right as you walk off the pitch.

After coming home, your mom notices your new glove and decides to bring some cookies for the neighbors as a thank you. That started a months-long gift exchange between the two moms for reasons ranging from watching over their kids on weekdays to lending their kids a pencil for a standardized test.

You didn't really mind it though, because it usually meant you'd get to hang out with Jamie longer. You spent countless weekends riding your bikes around town, playing football, and even camping in your backyards. The boy who threw that ball over your fence was quickly becoming your best friend.

—

Age 15

“Aww, my little girl is so grown up, now!” Your mom exclaims as she opens the door to see you in a pink knee-length sundress. You don’t know why she’s so shocked you’re wearing it considering that she was the one who bought it for you. “Hmm, but do you think you need a necklace?”

“Mom!” You whine and she immediately backs off. It’s not like you minded the suggestion, but you had your own issues to deal with and didn’t need your parents to get involved.

When you said yes to Tim asking you on a date, you knew you’d be both excited and nervous. But you didn’t realize how insecure it would make you. Your parents say all the time that it’s normal for kids your age — being insecure about your looks and body, — but that advice never seemed to help. As your mom leaves the room, you turn back to the mirror and sigh. Something was just off. The dress was pretty, the shoes matched, and your mom did great with your hair, but even then, you still aren’t satisfied.

You weren’t as experienced with make-up and fashion as the other girls in your school and you had long since accepted that. You just didn’t realize it would backfire on you in times like these. You sigh sharply again. If Tim really liked you, it wouldn’t matter that much right? You add the necklace your mom was suggesting before heading downstairs.

After a string of ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from your parents, you start heading to the restaurant. Most popular restaurants among your schoolmates were walkable and you didn’t want an even more awkward introduction with your parents there, going there by yourself was the best plan. You had gotten there early, so you settled on the bench outside the restaurant to wait for your date.

Maybe around the first half hour, you should’ve suspected something was off. But you stayed for another hour in case Tim actually showed up. God, you shouldn’t have believed he was sincere. Why would someone ask you out? You always kept to yourself in class, spent most of your time studying, and never even tried to go to parties or anything.

You check your phone again because some hopeful part of you thought he’d text you with a valid excuse, but all you see are some messages from classmates asking for notes and a missed call from your mum. You were not ready to face your parents right now, not after the hopeful looks on their faces that their daughter might be sociable for a night.

Instead, you call the only other person you can. Jamie makes it to the place in record time and the first thing you do is hug him. The moment you make contact with his body is the moment you let the tears flow from your face. It didn’t really matter at that point if people were staring: you just needed someone. You needed Jamie.

“I’m gonna murder that prick,” Jamie threatens as he reciprocates the hug.

“Please don’t,” you whisper into his chest. “I can’t have you going to jail right now.” Despite trying your best to say it jokingly, your voice is too hoarse to properly convey it.

After what felt like hours in that position, you finally let go. You soon realize that your streaming tears had stained Jamie’s shirt. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

The boy looks down and just shrugs. “It was getting too small for me, anyway.” That’s enough to put a smile on your face.

The two of you get into the car – Georgie’s car, since technically, Jamie only had a provisional license – and start driving back to your house. Maybe it was your wrecked emotional state, but you decided to outright ask, “Jamie, do you find me attractive?”

You gasp as Jamie almost crashes the car. You quickly clarify as he steadies the vehicle, “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, I don’t really know how I look to guys.”

“Right, sorry.” He says but doesn’t look away from the road. “I mean, you are pretty. As long as you don’t let it get to your head.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off Jamie, I’m not you.” You could list the number of times Jamie’s flashed that cocky smirk to girls at school during breaks. Those were some of the very few times you were embarrassed to be seen with him and you laugh at the reminder. But your smile quickly disappears when you look down at your outfit. “Do you think other guys think I’m pretty?”

Your voice is as soft as it’s ever been, not wanting to show how insecure you’re feeling at the moment. But Jamie can tell like he always does. You turn the corner to your house and he stops the car in the road and fully turns to you.

“Fuck those other guys. Fine, if you need someone to say it, I will. You are fucking gorgeous, especially tonight.” You cringe at his words, not used to having anyone say that about you, but he gets you to look at him again. “I’m serious. And Tim’s a fucking idiot for ditching you.”

Despite his harsh tone, the soft look in his eyes as he tries to comfort you almost makes you tear up again. As if it’s become a routine, you reach over and envelop him in a hug once more. To make up for the failed date, the two of you spend the rest of the night eating a tub of Neopolitan ice cream and soon enough, you forget that Tim even existed.

—

Age 17

Your teachers always said you were a good writer. But no one ever told you how fucking difficult it was to start your personal statement. You'd never realized how hard it is to prove you should go to university until you forced yourself to sit down and actually try and write something. You started with the outline route, trying to note all your academic achievements, extracurriculars, and things like that before you ended up boring yourself.

You've written 9 possible starting lines at this point, and in the end, you decide to just shut your laptop in despair. Try again tomorrow, you said to yourself. The same thing you said yesterday and the day before that.

You go to lie down on your bed when you hear something hit your window. It's a light clinking sound, and you ignore it till you hear another one. You finally decide to check outside your window and hear shouting from above.

"God?" you ask hesitantly.

"Nope, just me," you look up to find Jamie Tartt sitting on his rooftop, almost giving you a heart attack.

"Get down from there!" You tell him immediately and instantly cringe at how similar your tone is to your mom’s. Jamie rolls his eyes at the order but obliges anyway. He starts going down the roof into his bedroom — carrying an empty bottle of beer in his left hand — and makes it through his window. Once he's safe with his feet on the floor, he turns around to face you in your adjacent bedroom.

"Why'd you even go up there?" you question and Jamie, like always, simply shrugs.

"Felt like it," you shake your head at his reasoning. You knew your best friend could be reckless, but you didn't think he'd do something as stupid as that, especially before scouting season.

"So falling off and breaking your legs wasn’t something you thought could possibly happen?"

"Well, that’s why I have you to warn me," He exclaims, before going back to the conversation. "I'm coming over."

Both your sets of parents were out for the night and they'd known each other long enough to trust each other's kids enough, so neither of you needed to message them about it. You watch him sprint out of his room and after a few minutes, you here the doorbell ring.

You head downstairs and open the door to find a panting Jamie leaning on the frame. "3 minutes, new record time."

"Well, they do say I'm one in a million." He jokes as you let him inside and he takes off his shoes.

"Who's they, in this situation?"

"Mum." He says blankly, collapsing on the couch. "And Simon."

You laugh, before lifting his legs and shuffling on the opposite side of the couch. You rest them on your lap for a second, before a wave of stench from his feet hits you and you shove them off. Jamie goes back to sitting upright and he instead leans his head on your shoulder.

You turn on the TV and start browsing for a movie as your entertainment for the night. Most weekends were like this; hanging out in one of your houses, ordering pizza — which Jamie did as you looked through channels, — and relaxing on the couch.

The order was placed and you settled on the Hunger Games this time. You watched the first part of the movie in silence as usual, but once the pizza arrived, Jamie decided to change things up.

"Wanna play 20 questions?" You look at him curiously. You knew practically everything about each other, so why on Earth would you play a game that's every person's go-to icebreaker?

You don't have a chance to protest because after taking a bite of the pizza, he asks, "What were you doing before I got here?"

Your eyes widened at that. Maybe the one thing you never really talked about with Jamie was your future. Neither one of you would admit it, but there wasn't any chance that you two were going to be doing the same things in your career. You had academia and Jamie had football. It's hard to imagine something that kept the two of you together and also made both of you happy, so you never brought it up.

"Uh, I was having a wank," you joke but Jamie isn't amused. He continues to stare at you with an expression that you rarely ever saw; he was being serious. "I was trying to write my personal statement."

You look cautiously at your best friend who is quiet for the first time tonight. He takes a bite of his pizza again and with a full mouth, says, "And? How's it going?"

You groan and lean your head back. "Fucking terrible. I can't think of anything to say about myself."

"The fuck do you mean? You're like the smartest person I know." He points out and while you're touched he thinks that, you sigh.

"Unis don't just look at grades anymore. They want substance and worldly impact from their applicants. How the fuck am I supposed to change our societal landscape at fucking seventeen?" You admit, and it's like a weight has been lifted off of you. You drop your plate of pizza on the table and lean into Jamie's side.

"You want me to write it for you? I've got a bunch of great things to say about my best friend." He offers and you finally let out a laugh. "I can put how fucking amazing you are at Scrabble, how you can predict the ending of a movie in the first 20 minutes, how loud your voice can get when you cheer me on at a football game, and how you can hear a song once and already figure out how to play it on the piano."

You look up to find Jamie giving you a wide smile and his happiness is contagious. But that feeling is almost instantly replaced when you remember the position you two are in and feel your heart beating faster.

You don't ignore the fact that Jamie has grown up a lot more in recent years: finally passing you in height, having more defined arm muscles, and definitely growing into his features. It's harder to feel normal when you do the things you did as kids like when he rests his head or arms on your shoulders, pulls you into his chest to stop you from walking in front of a passing car, or just like right now when you're leaning into him, his arm pulls you closer to his body.

You slowly pull yourself away, but then he grabs hold of your hand instead. You've held hands before, but again, there's just something different about now. You decide to leave it there before finally replying, "I'm sure with that kind of stories in it, they'll let me into fucking Oxford." The two of you laugh before you grab your plate of pizza again and turn to back to the movie.

—

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You hear someone say, as you turn the corner to your school’s locker room.

It was normal to hear the players get nervous before the finals, but hearing Jamie Tartt panicking was a whole new thing for most of your classmates. Some league teams had sent scouts for the striker in this game and while everyone knew he’d do great, it seemed like the school’s support still wasn’t enough to convince him of that.

When his teammates couldn’t snap him out of it, their Plan B was to call you.

“Sorry, I’m looking for my best friend, Jamie Tartt. Brown hair, blue eyes, kind of conceited, but pretty nice if you get to know him.” You start out jokingly, but when his panicked eyes landed on yours, you quickly shift gears. “Shit, sorry. Not the time for jokes, I guess.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m off my game right now,” He starts, still trying to catch his breath as he moves around frantically. You take his hands into yours in order to steady him, but when that doesn’t work, you grab him by his shoulders.

Usually, Jamie would be towering over you, but with his slumped posture at the moment, you were almost eye-to-eye with the guy. “Jamie, take a deep breath. Focus on me, okay?”

You’ve gone through this enough times — usually with you in Jamie’s place — to know how to calm him down.

He follows your directions and you slowly nod your head. “Keep breathing, just do that for now.” Jamie closes his eyes and slowly starts to steady himself. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hands like you initially planned.

“I know it’s fucking terrifying, but believe me when I say that you are incredible. You know how you always tell me that I’ll smash it as Model UN conferences? This time, I’m the one telling you you’re gonna be the best fucking player out there.” You pause for a moment in case he reacts, but all Jamie does is nod his head. “I believe in you. Georgie and Simon believe in you. Hell, this entire school fucking believes in you. I swear, I saw people planning a chant for you outside.”

That gets the player to laugh and you smile, seeing a glimpse of his usual self. “Also, I know I’m complimenting you right now, but better savor it cause I’m never inflating your ego like this ever again.”

“Not even when I help Man City get another win in my first year?” Jamie finally speaks up.

“I’ll be complimenting Pep, not you.” You playfully roll your eyes. “But to be able to do that, you have to get out and play today.”

Jamie straightens up and starts shaking away the nerves. He turns to head to his team, but not before giving you a quick hug and a ‘thank you.’ Once he enters the locker room again, you start heading back to your seat.

—

Age 18

"Do you really want to do this?" Jamie asks carefully, but you've already made up your mind as you pull him closer.

You were going off to university in a few months and Jamie would be doing his summer training soon. Both his and your parents were out of town on a couple's retreat, so it was either now or never.

You knew that going off for college would increase the chances of your first time being with a random guy you met at a frat party infinitely, so you could say it was a calculated decision to jokingly ask Jamie when you talked about it if he'd be willing to sleep with you.

You didn't really expect anything and for the first few seconds, Jamie was too in shock to actually reply. You immediately tried to dismiss it as a joke, but before you could, he replied, "Sure."

You knew that Jamie had already had sex with girls before, — hearing him try and sneak the girls out of his bedroom window was always a fun story to bring up the next day — so you thought that it would just be another one for him.

But that night was the most delicate you've ever seen him. He didn't rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. He checked up on you constantly, making sure it didn't hurt and you were actually enjoying yourself. You made sure to hug him after, — not being able to say any words of gratitude out loud, — and you eventually went to sleep like that.

You woke up the morning after, still with him beside you, but after you got changed and he went back to his house, neither of you brought it up again. You went back to your old routine of hanging out in the afternoons and movie nights as if nothing even happened.

And it really was for the best, considering that the next time you had sex really was in a frat house’s bathroom.

—

Now, you were loading the last of your things into your car for your family road trip to Cardiff, which was to also move you into your dorm. Your mom was recounting the boxes, making sure you didn't forget anything because in her words, "We are not driving 3 and half hours twice just to bring you your toothbrush." Your dad was in the kitchen fixing up snacks for the trip, so you decide to take this chance and finally say goodbye to your best friend.

You barely saw Jamie in the weeks leading up to this since he spent most of his time at training. Even on weekends, he would be passed out in his room from the painstaking drills of the days prior. So as you knock on their door, you aren't very hopeful.

It reveals Simon who instantly pouts and brings you in for a hug. You always appreciated him for how he accepted Jamie into his life, despite the latter's fears that he'd be just like his father.

"Come inside," He offers, but you shake your head. You had to leave soon and you didn't want to delay the trip any longer. “Alright, but I was actually baking some muffins that you guys can take on your drive there, and you can’t say no to those.”

You laugh as you nod, before asking, "Is Georgie home?"

Simon calls out to his wife to tell her that you're about to leave. You soon hear quick footsteps descending the stairs before you are once again enveloped in a hug.

Simon heads out to presumably pack up those muffins, but you're too distracted by the rising feeling of sadness as you say goodbye to the woman whose practically been your second mother for a decade.

"You stay safe, okay? I know you'll enjoy your life there, but don't make your parents worry too much. Cause then they won't be able to stop talking about you," You laugh at her prediction before giving her one last hug.

Simon races back to you with a brown paper bag which he hands over, along with a pat on the back. You turn around to see if there's any sign of your best friend, but Georgie answers that for you. "He said he might be running late at practice." You feel your heart sink, but do your best to mask it. You wave goodbye to the couple before walking to the car.

You hand your dad the bag of muffins and sigh, "We can go." Your parents exchange a look but oblige nonetheless. You start heading into the car when you hear the call of your name.

You turn to see Jamie, still in his kit — shorts and all, — running towards your house. You decide to meet him halfway and once he's close enough, the football player pulls you into a tight hug, as if he's never letting go.

"Did you really think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye?" He whispered into your shoulder.

"If you're in trouble for leaving practice early, that is not on me." You try and keep it light-hearted, but his laugh only makes the pit in your stomach feel worse.

"Call me, okay? As often as you can. And send me pictures of all the stadiums you're playing in. I don't care if you send ten pictures of Etihad Stadium in a row, just do it. If you ever come to Cardiff, take some time off to see me. And," you try and think of more things to say, but Jamie cups your face in his hands to make you stop.

"I'll see you during the off-season, yeah?" Jamie's look is soft and you can feel the dam stopping your tears about to break.

"Don't you fucking forget me, Jamie." You try and say as angrily as you can, but your voice cracks as Jamie pulls you into another hug.

The two of you finally separate and you head off to your car. You stop yourself from looking back as you get into your seat.

Jamie doesn't take his eyes off you, though. He watches as your car starts and turns the corner off your street.

A/N: hope you all enjoyed this one! if you couldn't tell, some of these flashbacks were based on the song 'it's nice to have a friend' by taylor swift which is what inspired this whole thing! see you next week for the official first chapter !!

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

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shima-draws · 4 months

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So my roommate is also into One Piece. I’m not sure if he’s watched any of the anime, I know for sure he’s watched the live action, but earlier tonight he came upstairs and watched a few episodes with me while waiting for a food delivery, and then he got hooked, and then he sat and watched MORE episodes with me without really knowing what was going on. But it was still wildly entertaining to him, esp since I’m right in the middle of one of the (arguably) best arcs rn, and now he wants to finish the arc with me LOL. NOBODY is immune to One Piece propaganda. Or Bon-chan 🥰

#Shima speaks #IT WAS JUST REALLY FUNNY #Like he’s been spoiled to a lot of stuff and has general knowledge of some things #So he knows (as well as I) about what’s going to happen to Ace #But yeah I’m in the middle of Impel Down and it’s absolute fucking CHAOS rn. Insane.#He was like. How much more are you going to watch tonight.#And I was like well I usually go until right before bedtime when I’m binging it #So he was like let me grab my blanky :) LOL #We started chanting PRISON RIOT!! PRISON RIOT!! PRISON RIOT!!!!!#Idk it’s just nice. I usually don’t get this kind of reaction to stuff I watch #My parents don’t like anime and my sister. Well she likes it but only specific series #So I couldn’t rope her into OP even if I tried lol #So having someone be like ooooh what are you watching it looks good I want to join!#IT FEELS NICE. OKAY. I don’t get that ever!!!#I don’t have the kind of family who would be willing to watch anime with me #And tbh I get jealous when my friends tell me they watch anime with their parents #I doubt my parents would watch anime if I were on my deathbed and asked them to. LMAO #Not faulting then it’s not their cup of tea which is fine. It just makes me sad #*them #Bc that’s just. Such a HUGE part of my life and who I am. And they don’t know anything about that side of me #Or about the things I’m into #Sorry didn’t mean to get emo in my tags. Anyway.#I was gonna watch more OP during my lunch break tomorrow BUT since my roommate also wants to watch more. I will wait :)#Never have to do that usually! Huh!! How fun!!!#One Piece

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vegaseatsass · 2 months

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DFF ep10 spoilers/ep11 trailer spoilers

I liked this episode because I'm absolutely feral for New, and for Tee's tears, and for Fluke my beloved unintentional comic relief, but mooooostly I just cannot wait for ep11. That preview completely unhinged me. Oh my god oh my god so many of my dreams are coming true. It turns out as much as I love New and as much as I appreciate White (New you have to seduce him to your side if you don't want him to ruin everything!!!), Non is still my heart and a few split seconds of promised footage is enough to make crawling from this moment to next Saturday acutely painful.

#PERTHNON AND TEENON MY BODY IS SO READY IT'S ALMOST TOO READY #i am not gonna comment on pheejin because i can't say anything nice right now #i found their stuff really disappointing on multiple levels!#but it's fine that's why we have new and tee to make me feel things #and nonnnnnnnnnnnnn #dff #dead friend forever #dff spoilers #dff the series spoilers #dear diary

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sluttywoozi · 1 year

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V. State Of Grace

Masterlist

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.3k

Warnings: male masturbation, alcohol mention, marriage kink (mainly outside of the bedroom), oral f. rec.

Jeonghan tests his limbs, finding them all awake and only slightly sore as he starts to wiggle out from beneath you. He’s not sure how long it’s been, the alarm clock on his side of the bed unplugged, but he does know it’s been at least ten minutes since you fell asleep. He’d waited to see if the situation would resolve itself but, unfortunately, he’s still fucking hard.

He’s not upset with himself, because who wouldn’t get turned on after two hours of making out with you, but it is rather annoying. Jeonghan really just wants to go to sleep but now he has to sneak off to the bathroom and jerk off with shitty hotel lotion while desperately hoping he doesn’t wake you up. At least he gets to think about you guilt free.

This will be the third time he’s jerked off with you on his mind. The first happened after you’d gotten to know each other but before you got close. There was a group beach day and once he saw what your clothes were hiding, he knew he was in trouble. He didn’t feel too bad about that one, just a little regret about getting off to the thought of someone he’d like to call a friend.

The second was tinged with shame, frantic and fast and messy, and he’d had to return to you and hope that you had no idea what he was doing. It was at one of your Best Friends Sleepovers and, embarrassingly enough, he got hard because you let him rest his head on your thighs. In his defense, you were wearing shorts and you’d showered earlier so you were all soft and you smelled so good and your thighs were so plush under his cheek. He couldn’t help the way his thoughts strayed to how they would feel around his head instead. Pressing up against his cheeks and ears, holding him against you, muting his hearing so all his other senses are focused only on you.

He can feel his dick throb in his boxers as he starts to picture it again, his hand sliding down his stomach and slipping underneath the elastic band to loosely wrap around his cock. He’s hoping that soon he won’t have to imagine, though he’ll wait as long as you need, especially after how long he’s kept you waiting for him.

Jeonghan lets out a relieved sigh when he emerges from the bathroom to find you sleeping soundly. He wiggles his way beneath your body, pulling your arm back to its place on his chest and brushing his thumb over your brow. He really must have worn you out tonight, but he just couldn’t help it. You unlocked something in him, the part he’d always kept packed up in a box and shoved in the back of his mind. The part that knew he could love you better than any of the people who wasted your time did. That part made him eager to prove himself, eager to show you exactly how he feels in the ways he knows best, though he only used one method last night. He’s got lots of ideas if you need a little more help believing him.

His head swims with images of you as he drifts off, real and imaginary blending together to form what feels like flashbulb memories. You, waking him up with kisses. You, moving the last box from your apartment into his. You, flashing your engagement ring at some loser trying to flirt with you. You, walking down the aisle to him, a vision in white. He wants it all and with his last conscious thought, sends out into the universe a wish that his dreams will become reality.

It’s a gorgeous day, and you’ve decided to spend most of it at the beach.

Jeonghan smears more sunscreen onto your back, the hot sun beating down and soaking into his skin as he lets his hands wander more than strictly necessary. It’s a luxury he can afford now, and the way you giggle when he slides his arms around you and pulls you into his chest only makes him feel richer. He’s been touchy with you all morning, holding your hand and cupping your cheek and pinching any part of you he can reach, but you don’t seem too bothered. In fact, you seem freer than he’s ever seen you, and it occurs to him that maybe the distance wasn’t because of something he’d done but because of your feelings for him. He still wishes you’d talked to him, but he can’t blame you for freaking out and pushing him away, not when he knows you have a tendency to ignore problems until they solve themselves or get so bad you have to deal with them.

This doesn’t fit neatly into either category but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Jeonghan knows you’re in love with him and you know Jeonghan is in love with you. He’d expected the dynamic to shift but it’s the same, if only more affectionate and flirtatious, and he can’t wait to see how your relationship develops now. He’s already gotten used to touching you more, obviously, but he wouldn’t mind getting used to kissing you, too.

He starts by turning you in his arms to lean in and plant one on you, the sweet little gasp you let out music to his ears. He’s lucky you’re fake honeymooning in a country known for romance or his fast-growing penchant for kissing you might get him in trouble.

It turns out his fast-growing penchant for kissing you has gotten him into trouble. Previously, he was able to walk down the street or eat gelato or sip wine without feeling the desire to press his lips to yours. Now, it’s all he can think about, all he wants to do. He wants to start every morning and end every night with a kiss, wants getting your mouth on his to be his new hobby, wants your lips to be the last pair his ever touch.

It’s very distracting, you’re very distracting, and he really is in trouble because this is the third time today he’s zoned out staring at your mouth while you talk. He should be listening to your words but instead he’s taking in the movement of your lips, the way they form around letters, letters that combine to make his name, and fuck, he loves how you say his name. Except this time it’s followed by a frown, and he doesn’t love that.

“Jeonghan? I’m not even going to ask if you’re listening because there’s no point, but I will remind you that you have to sleep next to me and I have very sharp elbows. Who knows where they could dig in the night?

“Baby, I love every part of you, even your insanely sharp elbows. Any bruises from them are just evidence that I get to share a bed with you,” Jeonghan attempts to sweet talk you. He can tell it’s almost working, but any cheesier and it might backfire on him so he’ll stand down for now.

Thankfully, you decide to forgive him and the day continues without any more transgressions or threats of elbows in the cover of darkness. You’d had more than enough sun at the beach and more than a wise amount of pasta at lunch, so you’ve decided to spend some time sipping cappuccinos in the piazza. It makes for amazing people watching, and Jeonghan can’t help but notice an elderly couple milling about, bickering in fast Italian as they peruse the market. Their tones are sharp but filled with begrudging affection, and it’s easy to tell how in love they are. He wonders how long they’ve been together, who confessed to who, or if they just knew somehow. He always wonders these things when he sees couples, but it means even more to him now that he has you. He hopes that one day, you and him will grow old and gray together and become the type of couple he wonders about.

He’s back to staring at your lips over dinner, not that you notice. You’re too busy looking at the bit of chest exposed by the four buttons he’d purposefully left undone, which definitely was not his plan at all, not even a little.

Okay, maybe it was, but he can’t be blamed if it’s effective! You’re just as susceptible to him as he is to you, and he’s honestly grateful because you’d be far too powerful otherwise. You already have near complete control over him, not that you know it, so he really can’t afford not to use his one advantage - his body. And use it he will, he thinks as he frees one more button when you turn your head. Maybe this will convince you to let him get all three of the desserts he’s got his eye on.

It at least helps him plead his case for the sixty euro bottle of red rather than the forty, and he thanks you with a lusty wink from across the table, his shirt gaping open at the neck and his collarbones glistening in the setting sun. He can see it all in the reflection of your sunglasses, wishes he could see your eyes instead but understands the necessity with the heat soaking into his dark hair. He loves eating outside, feeling the breeze and catching little bits of conversations as people wander about, but he is starting to get tired of just how hot Italy gets during this time of year.

He never wants to leave though, wants to stay here in this handmade heaven with you, where none of your friends are curious about why now and none of your parents are asking when they can expect to become grandparents and nobody is asking when he’ll put a ring on that finger because he already has. Maybe that’s the main reason he doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t want to return to a reality where you’re not his wife and he’s not your husband. It’s easily rectified, but the difficult part will come in convincing you. He knows he’s got you with the shirt, but proposing marriage is a bit more serious than trying for a more expensive bottle of wine.

Either way, he’s willing to give it a shot.

The walk back to the hotel is rife with tension. The cobblestone streets are still sunwarm even as businesses slowly shut their doors, and though the piazza is vibrant with citizens, it feels like you’re the only two people in the world.

It feels just like it did last night, heated and magnetic, your bodies drawing closer together with each step forward. Soon enough, he’s got his arm slung low around your waist and your gaze caught on him like he’d hung the moon just for you. Now, he knows that he would, knows he’d climb up into the sky and pluck however many stars you wanted, all you’d have to do is ask.

You never would, you’re far too selfless of a person to covet a source of beauty just for yourself, which Jeonghan is thankful for because he’s far too lazy to figure out how to get into space. He would, however, devote the rest of his life to studying teleportation if it meant he could get you back to the hotel faster. The anticipation is burning him up inside, searing his throat and flooding down into his stomach, scorching all of his edges like wildfire, and fuck, is he getting hard?

He’s totally getting hard, and there’s still at least five minutes left of this walk. Releasing your waist, he untucks his shirt and loosens a couple buttons on either end so the flowing fabric can cover any rising embarrassment. It’s simultaneously infuriating and the hottest thing on the planet that you can undo him like this.

The situation only gets worse when you cross the lobby together to calls of, “Buona sera, Signora e Signore Yoon!”

Hearing other people call you by his name does something to him, something that makes him grab your hand and make a beeline for the elevators, something that makes him smash the door close button even as another couple approaches, something that makes him turn and back you into the corner of the elevator, his hands on your hips and his lips centimeters from yours.

“Is this okay?” Jeonghan whispers, gravitating closer and closer to you as your eyes slip shut. You breathe, “Yes,” into his lips and he’s gone, pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss so deep it’s like he’s trying to swallow you whole. He supposes he is, wants to drink you up and dress you down and spread you out, and the ding of the elevator reminds him he can do none of those things until he’s got you in the room. He’s speed walking through the doors before they even fully open, tugging you along behind him and bouncing impatiently on his toes as he digs through his pocket for the room key.

The lock turns with a click and Jeonghan all but shoves you over the threshold, backing you further and further into the suite until your knees hit the sofa. You collapse down onto the cushions and he follows you, climbing up to hover above you on his hands and knees. His hair brushes your forehead and he knows you can see all the way down his shirt, but he likes it. Loves it, really. Being this close to you.

“Let me go down on you?” He asks (begs) in between kisses, not breaking from your lips long enough for you to give him an answer. You nod instead when it’s evident he won’t let up, shivers running down his back when you sink your fingers into his hair and pull him away from you by the handful. He’s about to whine but he figures out it’s just so you can suck some marks into his neck, and Jeonghan certainly isn’t going to complain about you wanting to leave something of yourself behind on him.

He does have to stop you when he gets too hard to think clearly, his head spinning and his hands shaking as he gently pushes you back into the couch. He doesn’t want to get his shirt all messy so he hauls it over his head, just enough of the buttons undone to let him yank it off. Your hands rise immediately to lay on his stomach, the hidden ridges of his abs flexing under your palms before he takes both of your wrists in hand and presses them above your head.

“Keep those there, yeah?” Jeonghan requests, his mouth open and his eyebrow quirked as he nearly pants the words out. He’s not used to doing this much physical activity but he’s ready to get used to it with you, even if the journey is a little embarrassing. Thankfully, he doesn’t think you notice his heavy breathing, focused as you are on the faint trail of hair that leads from his belly button into his trousers.

He makes a show of unbuttoning them, reaching inside and giving himself a quick tug before dropping onto his elbows to kiss his way down your neck. You wiggle out of your dress and bra, suddenly exposing so much of your skin, and Jeonghan can’t choke back the moan that arises when he finally gets his mouth on you. You taste exquisite, so sweet with just the barest hint of saltiness from the sea, and the feeling of you is even better. You’re blissfully soft under his hands, goosebumps following his fingertips and his tongue following them, and he knows he’ll never get enough of you. He’ll be happy to die trying though, he thinks as he lavs his tongue over your nipple and watches your flesh pebble, even the smallest of your reactions fascinating to him.

He wants to cover every square inch of your torso in kisses but he’s getting a bit impatient so he works his lips down your stomach and looks up when he hits the barrier of your underwear. “Off, take them off,” you whisper when he doesn’t say anything, groaning and pushing at them when he doesn’t do anything either. He giggles, squeezing your wrists and returning them to their place above your head before pulling your panties down and pushing your thighs apart. He has to lie down when he sees you for the first time, has to rest his head against your plush thigh and just take you in, his brain muddled and his tongue almost itching to taste you.

There’s no reason for him to wait, so he doesn’t. He dives in, licking your folds apart and guiding your wetness from your entrance up to your clit so he can get a better glide going. He fucking loves this already, loves the noises coming from your mouth and your pussy, loves the taste of you on his lips and the feel of you under his tongue, loves the way you can’t seem to stay still, your hips bucking and rolling until he belts his arms over you. He wants you to move but not so much he can’t get at you like he wants, like he needs. Holding you down seems to make you wetter too, so it’s a win-win situation.

You’re so slippery, it’s easy for him to wind his tongue in circles around your clit and start to build you up. This may be the first time he’s been with you like this but it doesn’t feel like it, it feels like he knows you inside and out, like he could pull you apart with a twist of his fingers, and maybe he could but he’ll stick to his tongue for now. It’s like a little challenge, and Jeonghan wouldn’t be Jeonghan if he didn’t make everything a game.

At least in this one, there won’t be a loser. You’ll get to cum and Jeonghan will get to make you cum, and he can always use his fingers if you want to go again, so this is one of the rare times everyone wins. He’s definitely winning, his tongue swirling around your clit and his chin growing wet with you. You’re getting closer and closer, your whines and moans melting into each other until they become one continuous sound, broken up only by your gasps for breath. Your thighs twitch against his cheeks and his mind flashes back to last night, to all those nights ago when he’d thought about exactly this, and suddenly, he needs your hands on him.

“Changed my mind, baby, touch me,” Jeonghan exhales into you, stopping the movements of his mouth until your fingers sink into his hair and he can breathe again. He sucks your clit between his lips and shakes his head, the noises obscene but hot as all fuck as he licks and nibbles you into an orgasm. He wishes he could bottle up your sounds and your slick, but he can keep neither so he just soaks in your moans and laps up your wetness for as long as he can. Eventually, you curl up and push him away, heaving a sigh and letting your damp lashes flutter closed as he presses a kiss to your belly and helps you hobble to the bedroom.

He’s still hard but that can wait until you’re all settled in with a glass of water and the most essential components of your skincare routine. Maybe this time, it'll go away.

(It doesn't)

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