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#that doesn't sound like a good thing but for me lately especially that's actually good.
mothram · 3 months
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ponderingmoonlight · 9 days
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Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes
omg I love this, let's do it hehe
Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 2,3k
Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...
Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired
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„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.
He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.
You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?
“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.
You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…
It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.
“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.
“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”
It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.
“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”
Little did he know you meant that.
-a week later-
“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”
His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.
“Oh, just work.”
No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.
Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.
You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…
“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“
“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.
Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-
He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.
“Off to bed with you.”
“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.
You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?
Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.
-a few days after-
“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.
You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.
But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.
“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.
“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”
Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.
“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”
With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.
“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.
“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.
“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.
“I’m completely back to normal!”
“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.
“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”
Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“
“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.
“The combat training with the first year-“
“Done.”
“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”
“Done.”
“Taking care of-“
“Done.”
This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?
“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”
Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.
“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.
“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”
“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.
“Call her in right now.”
Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.
“And let her leave again in about an hour.”
-an hour later-
“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”
“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.
You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.
But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?
“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.
“Ehm...so…well…”
“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“
“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.
“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.
“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”
“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.
“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”
“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.
“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”
It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…
You open the door with a swift motion.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.
The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.
He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.
“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.
Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.
“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.
“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.
But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-
Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…
“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.
You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.
And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…
“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.
You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.
He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.
“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.
“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”
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caffeineandsociety · 1 year
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There's a specific genre of shitty antisemitic joke that I have seen fly under the radar (as it was designed to) a LOT more often lately - especially since Kanye started going full mask-off nazi - so I feel the need to issue a warning about it. Namely, the genre is jokes that get spread around by people who aren't willfully antisemitic because outside of conspiracy brain rot land, it appears that the point of the joke is absurdism.
As an example, let's examine the 23-and-me lizard DNA test that I've sadly seen floating around unquestioned.
Because, see, to the average person who isn't willfully antisemitic, this genre of joke comes off as nonsequiturs, or hilarious mistakes - you, as a person with some level of basic observational and critical thinking skills, living on Earth and not in whatever batshit mirror dimension conspiracy theorists think we live in, might very well end up getting a giggle out of it because, HAH, we KNEW those DNA ancestry kits were a scam! If you're not a deliberate antisemite but not really up on the dogwhistles, it doesn't scan as anything awful because you're put in mind of things like feeding a photo of something decidedly not human into that one selfie-to-anime neural net, which sometimes works and produces interesting results because the thing is looking for specific patterns and trying to make anything fit - not things like blatantly lying about doing something like that in the hopes that normies who see the absurdity and want to have a laugh at a scummy company's expense will pass it along to people who unironically believe that Jewish people are actual literal lizard aliens and the test proves it.
This is the same strategy that guy at the game awards pulled. You, a person living in reality where the main source of political corruption is just the basic consequence of an economic system that makes power pool in the hands of anyone willing to exploit enough people, a world of banal mundane evil, know damned well that QAnon-pizzagate-satanic ritual abuse cult conspiracy bullshit is, well, bullshit, if you're even familiar with the details of what they believe at all. When someone crashes the stage and thanks Rabbi Bill Clinton, you may very well laugh because to YOU it is a blatant absurd nonsequitur.
Problem is that to someone else, someone who's deep into that shit, it's either someone letting the truth slip, or someone backing the deep state into a corner - whichever is more convenient to believe.
This is one form of how the far right uses memeification (CW: the example discussed in the link is a rape "joke") - it means something totally different to the in-group than it does to the out-group. To you, it's funny because it's nonsensical; to them, it's fun because they think they're onto something huge and they're about to blow this shit wide open and it's going to be their great moment of triumph.
I cannot stress enough that no matter how absurd an antisemitic conspiracy theory sounds to you, there are people who believe it, unironically. There are people who unironically believe that Jewish people are very literally not human and no amount of evidence to the contrary will ever change their minds. There are people who believe that we're born with horns and tails and pointed ears and have them surgically altered to fit in with good Christian humans like some kind of extremely high-stakes game of Among Us. There are people who believe that we steal, ritualistically abuse, and kill Christian babies. These beliefs, while fringe enough that, yeah, most of you who this post is aimed at have never heard them in the wild before very recently, are not nearly as fringe as you probably think they are. Just look at fucking Kanye. This asshole has more fans than there are Jewish people in the world.
So I'm begging you to please, bare minimum, be careful of "absurdist" jokes about Jewish people, especially if they reference lizards, money, banking, or government power. Also, you may see Jewish people debating how religious laws may apply to fictional creatures, but outside of that context you should also be wary of any time Jewish people are mentioned in the same sentence as vampires, dragons, goblins, zombies, fantasy demons, or any number of other fantasy creatures known for greed, feeding on humans, or both.
If the reason it seems funny to you is because you'd have to be really stupid to believe it's true or makes any kind of sense - it's probably looking for you to spread it to people who are, in fact, that stupid.
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wongyuuu · 9 months
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Willow | 02
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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)
part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble
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Seungcheol functioned like clockwork. 
Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.
You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it. 
And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him. 
Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all. 
While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.
You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try. 
At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends. 
If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.   
After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness. 
There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.
After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes. 
Living like that felt oddly lonely. 
You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them… 
You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility. 
We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.
Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart. 
You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you. 
It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.
Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.
The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was. 
The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all. 
The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.
It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.
Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either. 
You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open. 
Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor. 
“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”
He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.
“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side. 
Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.
"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"
Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know. 
"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"
Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.
"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"
You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.
"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"
 "I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"
You shook your head.
"I got it from here"
Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.
You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.
Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.
"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"
His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would. 
"I'm really sorry"
It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.
Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket. 
"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"
You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you. 
You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.
Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend. 
He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.
Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth
You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.
"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"
You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle. 
"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"
His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.
"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"
You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness. 
"I wasn't angry" 
Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.
"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"
Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.
"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"
Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.
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The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit. 
The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.
And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy. 
And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you. 
Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.
And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t. 
Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.
He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.
He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared. 
For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking. 
And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening. 
He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.
Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed. 
However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.
Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.
He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.
For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment. 
He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were. 
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You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then. 
So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you. 
You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around. 
All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?
There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything. 
On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that. 
Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you. 
Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs. 
And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you. 
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You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.
You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside. 
He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position. 
“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.
Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.
“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.
He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy. 
Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that. 
“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”
He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest. 
“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”
“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”
Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again. 
The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all. 
“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”
You shook your head and set down your fork. 
“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”
In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.
Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind. 
The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with. 
That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him. 
“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”
He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that. 
And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud. 
But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?
“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”
That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?
“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”
Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.
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justhereforthemeta · 8 months
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Crowley and the Fall: Looking where the furniture isn't
Furfur, 1941: "We were in the same legion. Just before the fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?"
Crowley: "I remember going into battle. I don't remember being there with you."
Um... does Crowley's professed memory track with what we know about his fall? Setting aside for a moment that he doesn't remember Furfur - I mean, who just casually *saunters* into battle, really? In theory, it sounds like Crowley must have, but that's not what his "I remember going into battle" sounds like. It's been said before, but something about the circumstances of Crowley's fall (what little we know of it, at least) doesn't smell right. What we know is:
First, Crowley asked questions.
These questions antagonized the Metatron.
At some point, having gotten no satisfactory answers, Crowley began "sauntering vaguely downward," hanging out with the wrong crowd out of...boredom? Boredom with making nebulae? Nahhh. "Food hadn't been that good lately" (ahem, angels don't eat) sounds a lot like a euphemism for not enjoying the things you used to enjoy anymore. Ennui, maybe depression. Comes of your work feeling pointless, when you think you've been contributing to something big and meaningful that turns out to just be fancy wallpaper, something that was always meant to get torn down eventually anyway (ugh, Crowley, you and I should go get a whiskey after work sometime).
Eventually, that "wrong crowd" becomes a legion marching into battle on the plains of heaven.
Lucifer's side loses, and Crowley finds himself "suddenly doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." Funny that whilst talking to no one but himself in the bar in season 1, Crowley characterizes his Fall as "sudden" with no mention of a precipitating rebellion or battle at all. Either way, it seems like there'd be a lot of distance for him to cover to get from "I'm feeling profoundly disappointed; what once sustained me has lost its flavor" to "I'm going to violently overthrow the system and put these other guys in charge." Especially for the one demon we know of who still appeals directly to God.
Anyway, that half-baked word casserole is my basis for theorizing that Crowley did ask questions, but he never violently rebelled. "Going into battle" is the sort of thing one does with some conviction, not in an attitude of casual, sauntering disaffection. And even if he was hanging out with the wrong crowd, Crowley has never been a mindless follower: he'd be just as likely to question and critique Lucifer/Satan as the Almighty Herself. If Crowley did fight in the war (big if, if you ask me), I suspect it was on the side of Heaven. Then at some point his memory was tampered with to make him forget which side he'd been on. The fog of war and all that...
One last thought on this topic: Saraquael. She claims to have worked with Crowley on the horsehead nebula; moments later, we see on heavenly instant replay that she was the angel tapping at their phone to look for Gabriel's memory so that it could be wiped. Was her question actually meant to test Crowley, to see how much he'd managed to remember?
Saraquael, only angel to recognize Metatron when he strolls into the bookshop - are you the one who performed the wipe of Crowley's memory on Metatron's behalf?
I haven't learned yet how to get good screenshots, but if you can, hit pause on Crowley's face just before the electrical sounds go off in heaven after Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He's turned around from the screens to look directly at Saraquael in this shot. His eyebrows are raised and we can see his narrowed eyes clearly through his sunglasses. He KNOWS.
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rogueddie · 1 year
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Steve groans at the sound of his alarm, batting his hand around the side table until he hits it hard enough to shut it up. He gets up, rubbing his eyes as he moves to the bathroom on autopilot.
He's not just tired, he's exhausted. But he always is at Christmas. He struggles to get enough sleep at the best of times but, since Dustin would kill him if he's late, Christmas is the one time he has to wake up early. It's miserable, every year. The motels only add to his suffering.
As he's washing his face, he freezes. He quickly rinses his face, prodding at the skin. There's no lines, no wrinkles, no crows feet. He doesn't even have his beard. That's when he notices his hair. His hand shoots back, grabbing at the longer strands at the back of his neck.
He hasn't had his mullet for at least 30 years. Not since 1989.
Hurrying back to his room, he nearly recoils. He'd forgotten about the plaid walls and curtains. But he quickly brushes that aside, quickly looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He wishes he could just pull out his mobile, sure that Robin would-
Robin!
He darts down the stairs, to the main phone. But is immediately reminded of how bad the old phones were. He can't remember what Robins old number was and he's sure the one he does remember will be wrong. And it's not written down anywhere either.
But it starts ringing, just as he starts walking away.
"Hello?" He says, struggling to keep his voice even.
"When will you get here?" Dustin asks. "You said you'd be up by now!"
"Dustin, oh thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Something really fucking weird is going on with me, dude."
"Weird? Like... Upside Down weird?"
"What? El shut- or has... what year is it?"
"1985. Are you ok? What's going on?"
Steve laughs, high and hysterical. "Uh, well... when I went to sleep last night, it was still 2021, so... no. I'm not ok."
"Are you being serious?"
"Unfortunately. Wait, 1985... that means-"
"No! Don't tell me!" Dustin yells so loud that Steve has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. "You can't just tell people what's going to happen! You could change the future!"
"Good!"
"No, not good! You might be trying to make things better, but you could make them worse. Especially if you actually tell people what's going to happen. You need to be subtle."
"Subtle, right..." Steve looks towards the door, pondering. "Right... uh... I'll see you later."
"What? Steve-!"
He hangs up before Dustin can continue to scold him, hurrying up the stairs and throwing on the first clean polo and jeans he finds. His old trainers are at the bottom of the stairs, just as remembers them being- they'd lasted decades before they fell apart, even though they'd always been loose and worn enough that Steve could slide them on, even though he keeps them tied.
It takes him a while to drive to the trailer park. He takes a wrong turn, completely forgetting the way. It's been so long since he's been in Hawkins and, even then, he wasn't familiar with this route.
"Um, hi, sir," Steve says, trying to smile when faced with Eddies uncle. He's not sure if he was always so stand-off or if Eddies death did that to him. "Is- is Eddie home?"
He grunts, eyeing Steve. "Gimme a moment."
He shuts the door, but he doesn't leave Steve waiting for long.
Eddie is the one to open the door. He gently pushes Steve back from the door, gesturing for him to follow him. Steve jogs to keep up with his fast pace, too busy staring to pay attention to how tense he is.
"Alright, what do you want?" Eddie sounds annoyed. Impatient. He's glaring at Steve and crossing his arms.
He looks amazing.
"Right, sorry," Steve shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, this... ok, there's no way I can say this without sounding insane, so I'm just gonna say it, alright?"
"... Alright?"
"Chrissy Cunningham is going to try and buy from you in March. I don't know what she asks for, but if it means you bring her back here, don't. Just- sell her some weed, whatever you can carry on you. Don't bring her back here."
"She your girlfriend, or something?"
"No. God no. I just... something bad will happen. I'm sorry, I know that's... I sound stupid. But please, please," Steve can't help but step forward, grabbing Eddies hand. "Please don't bring her back here."
"Ok, alright, I won't sell to her," Eddies eyes are a little wide. "Jesus. I'll take your word for it."
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
Eddie stares at him for a moment, raises a brow. "Is that it? You, uh, gonna let me go now, big boy?"
"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah. Um. Merry Christmas?"
"Yeah," Eddie laughs, starting to head back to the trailer. "Merry Christmas."
Dustin yells at him for an hour straight once he drives to his house. He's red in the face by the time he finishes and looks one wrong word away from hitting him. But Steves already done what he wanted to do, he won't change it now and he won't tell Dustin what he said so he can either.
But he does tell Dustin the time to start paying attention. Without Eddie to get them on the case, they won't figure out how to save Max in time. He doesn't tell Dustin anything either, just the date of Chrissys death. He wishes he could think of a way to save her, but his mind runs a blank. And Dustin won't let him ask him. And Dustin refuses to leave him alone long enough to ask anyone else.
By the time he goes to bed, he's happy to think that he's done enough. Though, like Dustin, he wonders what will happen next. If he'll stay in 1985 or wake up in the changed future. Wonders what that would mean for his past self.
He wakes up warm, comfortable, and well rested. Someone has their arms around his waist, pressed fully up behind him, light kisses trailing up his neck, along his jaw.
Steve hums, yawning. "Who's 'at?"
"Morning to you too," the person behind him snickers.
Curious, Steve turns. He freezes, eyes wide. "Eddie?"
"Who else would it be?" Eddie smirks, but that slowly drops, realization dawning on him. "You were just in the past, weren't you? Wait- shit, no, hold on, do you remember anything past that?"
"I don't- ow!" Steve squeezes his eyes shut, head throbbing. "Fuck. Ow, fucking... shit."
"What? What is it? Baby, what's wrong?"
"I don't know," Steve whines, clutching at his head. "You were dead but you- got a job at the record store?"
"Oh, ok, this is good," Eddie curls his arms around him, pulling him close. "This is good. Dustin said this might happen. It's the conflicting timelines or whatever. Your timeline catching up with the new one."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that, like, you might have two sets of memories- or your original ones get forgotten, or something. But this... this is good. God, Stevie, the idea that you'd forget this current timeline..."
He tries to think of what might have changed, new memories or old ones he can't recall. It just makes his head hurt. "How long will it be until I, like... remember everything? I barely remember the 86 with you alive."
"Who knows. Weeks, maybe? Might always be confusing. But... um. I died? Was that... why you were so adamant that I didn't sell to Chrissy?"
"Yeah, it- it got you caught up in the, uh... stuff."
"The Upside Down? Yeah, I did get caught up in that. Hard not to when your town suddenly rips apart. So, what, I originally got caught up earlier?"
"Right at the start. You, uh... you died to save us."
"Now I know you're lying. I'm not one for the big hero moves, that's your job."
"Shut up," Steve snaps. He lifts his head so he can glare. "Shut up. You were a hero. You were- you are. You- you-"
"Hey," Eddie wraps him up in his arms, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, Stevie, I'm really sorry. I'm ok though, yeah? You made sure of that. It's ok. I got you. I've got you. We're safe."
Steve sniffles, grimacing at the snot he leaves on Eddies top. The sight brings forth vague, distant memories- his but also... not.
"You do this a lot, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie smiles, cupping his face, thumb brushing some tears off his cheek. "Yeah. It's not always easy, but I'm always here."
"Oh, wait... have I missed Christmas?"
"Just the day. Dustin remembered that you said 2021 so... we all wanted to wait. We're doing Christmas today."
"Really? Why?"
"Mostly because they wanted to be here, just in case. You made us promise, too."
"Just in case?"
"In case you forgot, baby. We don't know what you changed. Sandy is going to be very disappointed- she was excited to meet you again."
"Sandy?" Steve frowns, but the memory almost immediately hits him.
A baby, premature, and so small that she was barely bigger than his hands. Dustin's face, wet with tears but so proud, introducing the baby to Uncle Steve.
"Oh, Sandy," Steve whispers the name with reverence.
Eddie kisses him, almost desperately. He pulls back fast though. "Sorry, that was- fuck, Stevie. You're really remembering."
He sobs, startling Steve. "Woah, hey, Eds."
"Sorry. Fuck, we prepared so much but it... God, Steve, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if you never remembered again."
Steve presses a small, hesitant kiss to his cheek. "I don't think you'd have too much to worry about."
"Yeah, that's great," Eddie laughs. "My husband would've found me attractive even with amnesia."
"We're married?"
Eddie groans, flopping onto his back. "Of course that's what gets you excited. Time travel? Too boring for Steve Munson! Where's the adventure? But marriage?!" Eddie gasps dramatically. "Oh my, mister, that sounds mighty exciting!"
"Hey, I'm supposed to be the love of your life, stop being mean to me."
"Oh, don't go pouting at me like that, big boy. Even you should know that I have no self-restraint."
"Promise?"
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sky-is-the-limit · 9 months
Text
Smut writers feel free to write this! (Feminine pronouns used but feel free to change it!) (+18/MDNI)
FYI: I'm not a writer nor good at this! Just thirsty:)
I had a filthy thought of being railed by Price in the common area outside the bathrooms and Gaz accidentally walks in 👀 (gifs below inspired me).
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You were being bratty/needy as fuck even though you knew it was a hectic day, especially for him. At first you felt a little hurt that he brushed you off the first time when you started kissing his neck while he was signing some paperwork for the next mission. "Not now, doll. Can't you see I'm busy?" He murmured the last words almost as a whisper so you know that it's the work that's annoying him and not you.
"Come on, Captain, can't you take a little break for your girl?" You purred in his ear, hands slowly trailing down his chest over the tight military shirt he knows drives you crazy when he wears it (he was about to throw it away because it was too tight on him until he saw you practically drooling and being the lil shit he is, he started wearing it more often)
"Don't you have anything more productive to do, private, than bother your Captain?" Oh now it's on. His tone was serious as if he was scolding a child, making you stand up straight, rolling your eyes at his typical way of treating you when you're 'overstepping'.
"You weren't complaining this morning about my productivity, Captain." You reply to his dismissive comment, full of sarcasm, crossing your arms over your chest as you make your way in front of his desk. "In fact, you were quite content with my mouth on your c-" a knock on the door makes you take 3 steps back, a playful smirk on your face as you watch Price take a deep breath trying to process both your boldness and someone almost walking in on you, talking about your forbidden affair with him.
"Uh, is this a bad time?" Kyle awkwardly says, holding the door open not daring to walk inside, obviously uncomfortable from the staring contest you and Price share, neither backing down.
"No, Sergeant, private Y/L/N was just leaving." Price mumbles with a raised eyebrow, only turning his gaze towards the door for a second then back at you, indicating that you have to leave before he actually gets mad.
On your way out, you briefly touch Kyle's arm, give him a small smile before exiting Price's office. You know John is a confident man. In his skills, his work, the way he carries himself with authority in every room he steps in. The only thing that makes him feel uneasy is when younger men try to steal your attention. Not because he doesn't trust you, he knows that the second he asks for you to get on your knees, you comply better than any soldier he ever had to command to follow an order and he always praises you for it.
"Look at my eager girl, so desperate to please her Captain huh?"
"Eyes up when you take me in, I want to stare into those pretty eyes, soldier."
"You can't be disrespectful with your mouth full, now can you?"
The insecurity that you could fall for a younger, charming man always creeps in his mind yet he pushes the thought away, cursing himself at the possibility he might have stronger feelings for you than just the physical pleasure you two share almost every night.
/
10:30pm. You've been staring at the clock on the wall an hour now, waiting for the right time to come. You know Price always goes into the showers at this exact time, every single night before he goes to sleep as the showers are always empty. Exhausted soldiers and staff always in bed by then, leaving the luxury of a quiet, warm shower to himself.
You step into the common area timidly, checking if anyone's around but as expected, you find it empty and cold like it always is this late at night. No sound but the water running inside the nearest shower and the fast beating of your anxious heart as you slowly strip naked. It scares you how bad you want him, how he's your first thought in the morning and the last before you fall asleep. How you, a strong, independent and confident woman can feel so fragile, so desperate to please his every desire, how the second he asks you to go to his room, you waste no time, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. It's pathetic really, but for him? You'd do far worse.
With nothing but a towel wrapped around your naked body, you slowly push the curtain of the shower back, taking in the full sight in front of you. Yeah, you'd do anything for him and he knows it. He doesn't even flinch or turn around, he knows it's you. It's always you. You can see the smirk playing on his lips before he speaks with that husky, deep voice that makes your knees go weak, every fucking time.
"I don't fuck you one day and you come running to me, hm?" Price turns around slowly, eyeing you up and down before his fingers touch the top of the towel, softly caressing your skin. "Desperation looks so fucking good on you sweetheart" He leans closer to whisper in your ear before his fingers make the towel drop on the wet floor, the cold air sending a shiver down your spine as he pushes you gently out of the shower, to the nearest wall.
"I left my girl all needy and now I have to make up for it, don't I?" He whispers on your neck as his lips leave wet, sloppy kisses on your burning skin. Before you can lean back onto the wall to enjoy his attention, he places his hand on your back and with a swift move, pushes you in the common area. The look of surprise on your face as you turn to look at him must be the best entertainment he has had the last couple of days.
"What if someone walks in? Can't we go back into the shower?" You grab the nearest towel but before you can wrap it around yourself, he backs you up against the cold table in the middle of the room, both his hands placed on each side of you so you can't move.
"You wanted to sneak up on me and couldn't wait until I finished my shower." You open your mouth to answer with a pathetic excuse you know damn well wouldn't work on him but his hands cut you off before you even try, lifting you up from your thighs onto the cold steeled table. "You know it is the only time I get to have some peace and quiet but you being the greedy little slut that you are, couldn't wait a few more minutes huh?" He raises his voice, tone changed into the one he always uses when you're being a brat and fuck, you wouldn't want it any other way. The smirk forming on your lips and the intentional roll of your eyes must have pressed a button as he pushes your shoulders down so now you're laying on the table, feeling his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs, pushing them open.
"Now you're gonna get fucked like you want so bad, out in the open. If you behaved nicely, you'd be laying down on a soft bed but you decided to be a brat tonight" His grip tightens around your thighs, certain to leave bruises, as he lowers himself so his head is inches away from your soaked entrance, his eyes piercing yours, not breaking eye contact like his life depends on it.
"And you're gonna get treated like one." With one quick move he puts both of your legs on his shoulders, dragging you across the table, the cold metal and unexpected action letting a loud moan leave your mouth before you cover it with your palm in an attempt to stay quiet, unsuccessfully so.
"What the-" Oh fuck. You freeze in your tracks as a second voice comes from behind the lockers, making you jump up immediately. Your terrified gaze slowly meets Kyle's equally frightened eyes as his mouth hangs open to the sight in front of him, frozen in place with only a towel wrapped around his waist. You knew it was risky, just because the showers were always empty around that time, didn't mean that an exception was out of the question. It just happened to be tonight.
"I'm just gonna- fuck, I- bye" Gaz mumbles quickly, the confusion of this unfortunate, awkward encounter visibly written on his face but before he can walk out, so you can die comfortably in shame, the next sentence makes your blood run cold.
"Not so fast, Sergeant." Price commands, his expression unbothered if not unsurprising, like he wanted this to happen. He wanted someone to walk in.
"You're gonna sit on that chair and you're gonna watch how brats like her deserve to be treated."
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krakensdottir · 8 months
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Fav Aziraphale Moments in S2
Okay, I admit, I'm more of a Crowley blogger. He's my blorbo. But you literally can't love him without loving his other half. It's time to show some Aziraphale appreciation.
In no particular order, here are things Aziraphale did in S2 that made my jaw drop / breathing stop / otherwise really stuck with me:
Cradling the jar
Who would've thought hugging a jar of formaldehyde with a tumor floating in it could be heartbreaking? The look on Aziraphale's face when he learns it came from a young child, one that couldn't be saved, and the way his body language shifts as he tucks the jar close and precious against his chest, trying too late to protect it... Listen, I have really stubborn tear ducts, the final scene of S2 didn't make me cry (though it made a valiant effort), but I teared up at this.
Standing up to Crowley in the Job flashback
Really, the entire Job flashback is 10/10 for both of them. But Aziraphale especially shines when he steps in front of Crowley and says 'Tell me you want this.' They've only met a handful of times since the Fall at best, but Aziraphale is confident enough to call him out. And he doesn't falter or hesitate about it, either. He gets right up in the demon's face and makes him say it. Makes him lie outright that he wants to hurt anyone.
And then, of course, in front of the children, Aziraphale - no longer asking, now absolutely certain he's right - steps into Crowley's space again, looks him dead in his sinister eyes, and says he's dead sure those children are safe. Buddy, I had chills.
SPEAKING of chills...
I didn't know his voice could go that deep (Furfur scene)
Okay, I actually knew Michael Sheen could sound like that. But I admit, I 100% did not expect to hear it come out of Aziraphale. In the form of his own name, no less. I guess that's what happens when someone threatens Crowley right in front of him.
The sassy eyebrow
We've all talked about this but it's never a bad time to bring it up again. Shax really says 'You don't seem like his type' and Aziraphale's eyebrow says 'Honey you have no idea' right back at her. She can pry at his defenses in a lot of ways, but making him doubt his importance to Crowley is clearly not one of them. And that's really good to know.
Telling both demons and angels to fuck off
I was already giddy from seeing him go full Protective Principality at a horde of demons, but telling off the Archangels took it to a new level. He has had ENOUGH. Screw the angelic hierarchy, this is his bookshop and he's done. (Crowley giving him that oh-so-proud smile through the window without Az even knowing it was the icing on the cake. Yeah Crowley, I feel exactly the same.)
Honorable mention, again from the Job flashback: when Crowley says 'See you in Hell' and Aziraphale, instead of hesitating or having a crisis over it, defiantly sinks his teeth into the ox ribs again, tearing out another hunk of flesh. There's such a mood of 'Fuck it then, if this damns me I might as well enjoy it.' Fuck yeah, Aziraphale.
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jennay · 7 months
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Let me take care of you
Request: I don't know if you know, but Noah kind of lost his voice during a concert(?) when you can, can you write that the reader flew out to take care of him or just to be there with him? :c ♥️ You choose whether they're friends or in a relationship, whatever you feel. Don't overwhelm yourself, precious; we love you more♥️♥️
No warnings
An: sorry I put a friends to lovers trope. 😅 thank you for this request. I loved it.
Words 2800ish
Noah Sebastian x reader
Noah Master list
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You had always been terrified of heights. The mere thought of being high up in the air made your palms sweat and your stomach churn.
So, how you boarded a plane and flew for more than half a minute was a mystery to you. But you did it for Noah, your best friend, who was going through a rough patch. Your sneaky self conspired with the other three men to visit without Noah knowing.
He'd lost his voice and had to cancel several shows, which made him feel guilty and depressed.
He kept blaming himself for not taking better care of his health even though the others assured him that it was not his fault and that he would recover soon.
You had booked a car online, but when you got to the rental center, you faced an unexpected problem. The vehicle you had reserved was unavailable, and the counter clerk seemed clueless about what to do. He asked you to wait in the lobby while he talked to his manager, promising to sort things out as soon as possible. You felt your blood boil with frustration. You hated waiting - especially when you had paid for something in advance. You glared at the clerk as he walked away, wishing you could zap him with your eyes. You grabbed your phone and dialed Noah's number, hoping to check on him. You waited for him to pick up but heard a different voice on the other end instead.
"Hello, this is Noah's assistant. How can I direct your call?" It was Jolly; his thick accent and cheerful tone always made you smile.
"Hey, Jolly. It's me." You chuckled. "Is Noah paying you well? You seem to be working very hard lately."
He laughs back, "He doesn't pay me shit! I'm just that good of a friend."
"Well, speaking of the devil, where is he?" You ask.
"Sleeping... I saw it was you so I answered for him. Are you here yet?" He whispers, and you hear the sound of a door closing. "Sorry, that was loud. I don't want to blow it. Must escape into the other room." He says, giggling like a child.
"I'm in the same state…city even, but there seems to be some fucking confusion with the car I rented, and it's taking everything in me not to lose my shit right now," you say with a sigh. "Why is this happening?"
You run your hand down your face, feeling lost and not knowing what to do. "Ah, the classic 'I rented a car, and now I'm stuck' situation. You know what they say: 'Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.'" He quips, "Do you need someone to come get you, or are you going to wait it out?"
"OK, well, nobody says that except you. I'm gonna wait. I hate not having my own way around." You pause when you hear your name called at the front desk.
He laughs, "No, I'm pretty sure that's how it's said, y/n. My English is good."
You roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle. "I gotta go. I'll call you when I get to the hotel. Like, I'll actually call your phone."
"See you soon. OK, this is the part where I say goodbye, right?" He laughs.
"Yes, goodbye!" You click end and start toward the desk, wondering how you ended up with the strangest people being some of your closest friends.
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After a long, exhausting drive, you finally arrived at the hotel's parking lot. You took out your cell phone and called Jolly, hoping he would come down and help you with your luggage.
You waited and waited and waited…
"I'm coming." He said abruptly and hung up.
You stared at your phone in disbelief. What was that? Did he just cut you off without even saying goodbye? What if you had something important to tell him?
You got out of the car, putting on your sunglasses. You grabbed your backpack from the back seat and closed the car door, leaning against it as you waited for Jolly to show up.
You started to doubt your decision to come here; if Noah was sick, would he appreciate your surprise visit? You shook your head; of course, he would.
You feel excited when you see the tall Swede walking towards you with a goofy smile; he opens his arms wide, and you run to him, hugging him tightly.
"You made it!" He exclaimed.
You pulled away, grinning, "Barely. I think I only cried once on the plane, so that's an improvement, " you joke while adjusting your bag. "Lead the way," you say, gesturing to the door.
"Someone's eager," he teased, opening the door. "I'm excited to see everyone. I miss you guys so much," you said with exaggerated emotion.
He followed behind you as you sprinted up the stairs. "Oh, come on. Don't lie to me. You're dying to see Noah... Just admit it," he said, poking fun at you.
You stopped in the hallway, making him bump into you. You turned to face him, poking his chest and giving him a fierce glare, "Shut your mouth!"
He laughs, gently grabbing your shoulders, keeping you at bay. "Alright, pitbull, calm down!"
You shake your head and continue to walk, "Sorry." You mumble. "It's just, nobody needs to know that. I honestly didn't even want to tell you." You take a deep breath when you feel his arm lazily drape over your shoulder.
"Maybe it's time to tell him instead of telling me." He looks down at you, waiting for a response.
"Hear me out... I can just not say anything and keep my friendship intact," you say.
Jolly's arm drops from your shoulders as he points to the door. He grabs his key and unlocks the door, pushing you in first.
"This place is huge," you say as you peek around. You'd barely entered the kitchen and already felt lost.
"Down the hall doors on the left. Beware, the other two are lurking and waiting for your arrival," he warns.
As he's warning you, you hear a sudden commotion from around the corner. Two figures emerge, dart guns in their hands, and they laugh maniacally as they start shooting at you. You barely have time to react before the first dart hits you in the face. You instinctively raise your arms to shield yourself from the barrage of incoming darts.
"Fucking assholes!" You yell out in frustration, trying to catch your breath as you choke on your laughter. You quickly scan your surroundings for cover and spot Jolly nearby. You run towards him and hide behind him, hoping that he'll provide some protection from the incoming fire.
Jolly groans as he gets pelted with the soft bullets but doesn't move. You peek from behind him and see that the men are still laughing and shooting at you.
From behind them, you hear a door creak open and feet scruffing against the floor.
"What the fuck is going on?" you hear Noah's hoarse voice ask.
You poke your head around Jolly's torso, and your eyes land on Noah. You smile with excitement, feeling your stomach flip.
You run past Nicholas and Folio, flipping them off in the process and laughing hysterically as you jump into Noah's arms. As you cling to him, you can feel his body tense up in surprise. He looks down at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape, as if he can't believe what happened. You can tell he hasn't processed that you're there yet.
"What the…where did you? You're here," he manages to stutter out. His body relaxes, and he squeezes you gently, engulfing you in his tattooed arms. "What are you doing here?"
You pull back, still latched in his arms, as you look up at him. "Surprising you, dummy. Did it work?"
"What do you think?" His brown irises glow while he gazes down on you. "I'm surprised, but why? You had the whole tour, and you chose now? We're almost done." He says, chuckling. "Wait, did you get on a plane?"
You push out of his grasp, brushing your shirt down. "I heard you weren't feeling well…and yes, I did get on a plane."
"She only cried once," Jolly pipes in. "She's growing up so fast."
You shake your head, "...and then these two assholes tried to kill me." You glare at them. "You didn't even say hi! You just started blasting, and I find that rude. Could at least greet a girl." You turn your back to them, swinging around to face Noah. "Anyway, I'm here."
He looks back at you with tired eyes, "Well, as much as I love seeing you. I'm supposed to be on vocal rest. I'm going back to my room."
You stand there confused as he starts to walk away from you.
"Are you coming?" He asks, stopping before his door.
"Wait, you were inviting me?" You chuckle, "I'm comin'." You dash down the corridor and join Noah in his room. The room is plunged into darkness by the black-out blinds. You grin as he snuggles up on the bed, pulls the covers over him, and switches on the tiny TV on the desk at the foot of the bed.
"I had to make it dark." He explains, noticing your curious gaze, "I'm fooling myself into thinking nothing exciting is happening."
You roll your eyes playfully, "Nothing exciting is happening. This is a hotel." You tease, sliding under the covers next to him.
Noah gives you a sly smirk as he slides closer to you, resting his head on your chest. You wrap your arm around his shoulder, gently moving it up his neck and into his hair, where your fingers weave through, making him melt under your touch.
"I know you're not supposed to be talking, but I was curious how you feel about this. How are you coping?"
He lets out a sigh, showing his frustration. "I hate having to cancel shows, you know? It sucks knowing people were looking forward to seeing us maybe for months, and then we can't even show up." He buries his face in your neck, groaning, "I can talk, by the way, just not loudly."
You feel his hot breath against your skin, causing goose bumps down your arms. You wonder if this was the right time to tell him the truth.
You mentally shake the thoughts from your mind; now was probably not the right time. You didn't know if there ever would be a time when you'd feel brave enough. "I get that. As much as you hate hearing it, you're only human, Noah. Shit happens, and I'm sure they'll understand. They would want you to get better instead of ruining your voice," you remind him.
You feel his arm drape around your waist as he says, "I'm happy you're here. It makes things a little more manageable."
You hear his breathing slow down, and his soft snore comes from him. You let him rest and grab your phone, careful not to wake him up. You take a quick picture of your situation and send it to Jolly.
Help
Did you tell him?
NO.
Wake him up?
I can't. It's a rule. It's rude to move if someone is sleeping on you.
That only applies to cats, and Noah's not a cat.
You laugh and text back: Are we sure?
You put your phone down beside you and close your eyes, feeling the need for a nap after your long trip, and then you'd talk to Noah, maybe.
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You stir in your sleep, feeling soft touches through your hair; you cuddle closer to the person's chest, feeling arms around you keep you safe and warm. Your eyes flutter open softly, and you are greeted with Noah's neck tattoo. You lean your head back, your nose grazing Noah's chin. "Hi," you groggily say.
"Hi, sleepy head." You snuggle your face back into his chest, not wanting to end the moment. You felt secure and calm, like you could stay this way forever. Until you hear the door fling open, you don't raise your head to look afraid you might get pelted in the face with another dart.
"You did it!" Jolly squeals when he sees you wrapped up in Noah's body. "I'm claiming best man at the wedding!"
Noah's eyes widen in confusion, and he looks at Jolly with a puzzled expression. "What wedding?" He asks nervously.
Jolly stares at you wide-eyed and yells, "Ah Fuck!" before leaving the room and shutting the door quickly.
You smack your hand over your eyes, wishing you could just disappear. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you contemplate getting up, walking to the front, getting on a plane, and never showing your face again.
Suddenly, Noah lightly pushes your shoulder and playfully smiles at you. "That was weird," he says. "Are you OK?" His eyes grow with concern as he realizes the color hasn't returned to your face.
You take in a deep breath and close your eyes. Your heart races with anticipation, and you feel sick to your stomach. But you quickly regain focus and open your eyes. "Is it THAT weird?" Noah's head tilts, eyebrows furrow together, and his voice laced with curiosity, "What do you mean?"
"The voice in my head is screaming not to tell you because I'm so fucking afraid of losing you, but I know…" you pause, trying to catch your breath. "I love you, Noah, but not just in a hey, I want to be your friend kind of way. It's been eating at me for a while now. I made the mistake of telling Jolly; that's why he said what he did."
Noah's mouth drops with surprise, and slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I know," he says softly. He presses his lips together, not sure what else to say. He wasn't completely oblivious. "That's it?" You nervously bite the inside of your cheek.
"Y/n, why do you think I treat you like I do? I knew there was something more, but I didn't want to push this on you. I'm gone a lot, and I can't always give you what you want and what you need." He reaches out, holding both of your hands with his.
"If you want to give me a shot, I'm ready, but don't want to disappoint you." He flashes his infamous smile at you. "I want to try. At least then when people ask if you're my girlfriend, I won't have to correct them." He nervously laughs, "Are you ready?"
You smirk and sit up on your knees, bringing your hands to his face and pressing your lips against his. You lean back, gazing into his eyes, a permanent smile plastered on your face. "Yes, I'm fucking ready!"
You hear Jolly's voice yell from the hallway. "The wedding's back on!"
You chuckle, and Noah pulls you into his lap, kissing your temple. "He really wasn't the best one to tell."
You shrug your shoulders, "It wasn't that bad…he did kinda make this happen…"
Noah looks at the door hearing someone lean against it; chuckling while throwing his legs over the side of the bed and making his way to the door. He quickly opens the door to reveal Jolly practically falling on his face.
"Dude…" Noah laughs. "What the fuck."
Jolly apologizes, "Sorry, sorry. I'm nosy, you know plus had to make sure little miss wasn't getting her heartbroken." He pauses and smiles at you.
"Well," you say with a grin, "I guess we can't blame him for being curious about our love life. After all, it's not every day that he gets to witness such a steamy romance." You wink at Noah.
Noah rolls his eyes playfully and pulls you closer. "Yeah, Jolly," he says with a smirk, "you're just jealous that you're not getting any action."
Jolly laughs and shakes his head. "You two are something else."
Tags:
@thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady
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niningtori · 2 months
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to know him is to love him, and i do | chapter three: i'm not all bad, right?
pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you
summary: you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.
genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?)
word count: 2.1k
notes: hi friends! i don't have much to say this time around besides the fact that i just want to thank user zzhyuu for helping me edit this (´∀`)♡
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if you were to ask beomgyu if he loved his ex mere months ago, he'd say he didn't know for sure, but probably. they ended things rather messily, which seems to be a trend for him, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know what he liked about her after all. if he had to pinpoint it, he liked the thrill of the chase and the idea of never knowing how explosive things would inevitably get between the two of them. he liked the toxicity. he liked the idea of breaking somebody and being broken in return. only now does he understand that that wasn't love at all, but some sort of sick game of hurting and being hurt he doesn't — he can't — play anymore. he doesn't want to hurt the people around him any longer, especially not you, but it would appear that that sentiment has presented itself a little too late. 
there's always been a lot to love about you. always. you're so kind and so incredibly patient, at least with the people you love. you're thoughtful and intentional with your words and actions. you're not perfect, but you try your best to be a good and fair person. and you listen. like, really listen. the kind of listening where you're not just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you genuinely want to know what the other person has to say. even if he didn't know it at the time, beomgyu always did love you. was it in the way you deserved? obviously, with the way things are now, it's perfectly clear that it was not. 
even if he does bump into you, it's completely pointless. you made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with him anymore. the last thing you said to him echoes in his head with an unspeakable viciousness. "i'm sorry you feel that way." he didn't realize just how cruel those words were until they were falling from your lips instead of his. he didn't realize just how cruel he was in general. 
he ponders over how succinctly you summed up your entire dynamic: "i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" to be honest? he doesn't understand why you had to do that, either. 
contrary to what one might suppose about him given his overall shitty personality, he had actually had a pretty good go at life. he was innately able to make the world sit and watch him go, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it. but what should he do since you don't want to watch him anymore? what should he do since you don't want anything to do with him anymore? 
as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair of his new least favorite bar, he's confronted by this truth over and over again. he's not completely sure why he's even here — he hates this place, but he remembers you mentioning you liked to come here. in hindsight, there's no doubt that that was a way to hint that you'd like to come with him, but what use is it to recognize it now, after all this time? 
not much, apparently. or at least that's what his conscience is telling him. he should leave, he thinks. he should stop coming here every night hoping he'll run into you because it's wrong to make you uncomfortable when you've said in no uncertain terms that you don't want him anymore. he should, he should, he should. and he will, really. in just a minute. that's what he tells himself, but he just watches the door as he drinks himself dry.
he's on the brink of literally passing out when he hears a sound he'd recognize anywhere: your laugh. he actually thinks he's hallucinating just because he wants to hear it so fucking badly, but it takes the sound of your voice to convince him it's real. you're actually here. he's incredibly drunk, so the idea of being tactful escapes him. he can't miss this chance.
-
you try, and try, and try some more, but you can't seem to forget beomgyu's last words to you. he loves you? you scoff at the idea. does he even know what love is? it doesn't feel like it. truly, it doesn't. if that's what his love feels like, you'd rather not feel it at all. 
that's what you keep trying to hammer into your head along with the idea that you're doing well. and you are doing well. seriously. things with taehyun are better than ever and you can really see yourself building a life with him. everything feels so pure and brand new. your feelings for him may lack the intensity that you felt with beomgyu, but you had known him for years. it's only fair that you nurture the love that's blossoming between the two of you while smothering out the embers of what used to be with beomgyu. it's only right, right? it should be, but the way you're so torn makes your brain hurt.
so you decide to go to your favorite bar and forget about everything for the night. it's been a long while since you've let loose and you're excited. you're surrounded by your friends and you're ready to let go. it's only when you excuse yourself to get some fresh air that you realize fate has other plans. 
when you're walking to the curb to take a seat, you feel a tug on your elbow and whip around. if there's some creep trying to get with you, there will be hell to pay. 
"who the f—" you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes meet with beomgyu's misty ones. the ones you used to love so much. 
"hey," he says weakly.
"what do you want?" you ask venomously while harshly yanking your elbow from his grasp. his lips purse and even in the dim lighting outside of the bar, you can see his eyes water even more. he's always been such a baby when he's drunk. 
"i just wanna talk," he pleads. he sounds so out of it and looks so pathetic you almost feel bad for him. almost.
"i have nothing to say to you," you reply coldly. 
"but i do." he sounds desperate to a degree that you sincerely never thought you'd hear.
"what, are you gonna tell me you love me again?"  you retort with a roll of your eyes. you're obviously being sarcastic, but all he can think in his drunken state is how pretty your eyes shine, even when they're impatient to look away from him.
"if you're not gonna say anything, i'm leaving —" you snap, turning away, but beomgyu is awoken from his daze and gently pulls you back.
"n-no! i mean, yes. i love you, b-but that's not what i wanted to say."
"well, what did you want to say?" you ask, tone laced with annoyance. seeing that you'll actually give him a chance to hear him out, he scrambles to pull out his phone. you're confused for a few seconds before he pulls up his notes app and you see an alarmingly huge chunk of text. what the fuck?
"i-i wrote this for you," he says tremblingly — so anxious that the hand that holds his phone is visibly shaking. you cock your eyebrow when he clears his throat and begins.
"i was so, so inconsiderate of how you felt, and didn’t treat you with a lot of respect as a person, let alone as a partner. i didn't understand how hurt you would be by the things i did or didn't do. in a way, i still don't think i understand just how fully how i treated you affected you. especially when you were so hurt by me. especially when you’d hold onto those feelings for so long, whether you wanted to hold them or not. it's unbelievable to me that you stayed with me for as long as you did, a-and it’s a testament to your willpower, your resolve, and how much you really do — or did — love me. i don’t think i ever appreciated your love like i do now. i... i don’t know if i appreciate it fully even as i write this. 
when i last saw you, i thought you were being cruel, but looking back, i can’t blame you. i can only admire you for not being worse, actually. roles reversed, i definitely would have been. i-i'm starting to understand how you must have felt, and why you probably want me to feel how you felt in the past. i know you think i am the one who owes you, and i do. i really owe you a lot. i owe you more than you ever asked me for.
so i want to make it up to you. i really do. and i'm hoping that i can really change. i'm – i just miss you so much i can't stand it anymore. i-if you don’t feel the same way, or don’t care, or however it is, i understand. but i meant it when i said i love you, and i mean it now when i say that i'm so, so incredibly sorry," his voice cracks as he finishes and hot tears threaten to find their way down his face. 
"beomgyu..." you begin, not really sure what to say. what can you say? and any hope he has of being with you is almost extinguished when he sees how much you pity him in this moment, but he'll hold on for as long as you'll let him.
"you said you saw the real me. you know i'm not all bad, right? i'm a piece of shit, but i can't be all bad," he pleads, tears now streaming unabashedly from his eyes. maybe if he can just find the right words, you won't leave him.
"beomgyu," you sigh, "i've never thought that about you. i know you're not all bad," his face perks up at this and he's tempted to bury his face in your neck and sob in pure relief. the pain he's been feeling for the past few months is about to be over because you understand him. always have. even though he's like this, you can still see the good in him. just the thought alone is enough to fill him with pure ecstasy. he goes to close the distance between the two of you to pull you into his embrace, but you gently place your hand on his chest before he can come any closer.
"thank you for telling me how you feel, beomgyu, but if you think you can fix everything with a few words from your notes app, you're delusional." his face crumbles at this and a sense of panic and dread pools in his stomach.
"w-what? b-but you said —" 
"i know you're sorry and i know you'd probably try to make it up to me if i let you, but that's not enough. you really hurt me, okay? and it's just, you know, i'm finally happy now. and i have taehyun. i really like him, beomgyu. and he really likes me," you say with a fond smile, as if you're thinking of taehyun right now, and his heart shatters into a million pieces. the former him would probably be throwing a tantrum right now, but he said he'd change for you, so he says what you'd never expect him to.
"it's okay," he smiles bitterly, tears still flowing freely. "i... i understand. i just want you to be happy. i want you to be so happy. you deserve it."
"but..."
"go back in," he sniffs. "you don't need to stay here with me anymore." he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and tries to send you off with a smile, but it's so forlorn you wish he'd just keep frowning.
"... okay." you turn away, and even though he told you to do it, he can't help but feel an even bigger lump in his throat now that you're actually listening to him.
"beomgyu?" you say softly, before you enter the door. 
his damned heart can't help but flutter again against his will. 
"yes?" 
"don't wait for me anymore, okay?" how are you so cruel but so merciful at the same time? he should say okay, but the ugly and selfish part of him refuses to lie, so he just shakes his head and waves you off. his love is ugly and his heart is broken, but it's still yours to have. 
"I'm sorry," he murmurs again to nobody but himself as you enter the bar.
notes pt. 2: the next chapter will be the final chapter. it will probably be relatively short, so keep that in mind. anyway, feedback is always appreciated :)
masterlist
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unknownati · 3 months
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iii. are you still watching?
a/n: EEEK ilygsm. im glad ppl liked the last post so much ^_^ <333 thank u!!!
u didnt hear this from me but i MAYYY be working on a lil something w ellie 😜😇🤫🤫
ngl? idk if i like this! i'm very 50/50 on it but ur the judge 🤷🏾‍♀️
warnings/tags: suggestive? like you're literally on the BRINK of fucking (so mdni!!) , still fluffy tho (you already know i can't live without it), "netflix n chill 🤓", cuddling, making out, not really tlou aligned more of a modern au, ending kinda sucks lol, guess what. NOT PROOFREAD 🔥🔥, once again not very long but still made with love 😁 🫶🏾
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it took you an abby an hour to actually pick a show to watch. it always took you two forever, and the first 10 minutes of disagreement was usually on whether it should be a show or a movie. once you got past that, then it was which one to actually watch.
horror?..not really abby's thing.
sci-fi? not feeling that.
mystery? you didn't feel like thinking.
thriller? nothing good.
you eventually just settled on 'insecure' since you'd had your eye on it for a minute (and abby didn't feel like going back and forth with you anymore).
once you made it past the hour of picking something to watch, these were your favorite nights to have with abby. she'd come over, sometimes you'd order food, and you'd whip out your comfiest blankets to bundle up in. you had this specific blanket that abby loved to use, it was not too thin but not too thick, and it was adorned with these cute little cartoon dogs. she refused to let you use it even though it was yours.
you were fully invested in this show, but the same couldn't be said for abby. she kept glancing over towards you, staring for long enough that she didn't know what was going on.
you kept making small comments about the show just to receive late 'mhm's and 'ohhh's back. it wasn't until you took a peek at abby that you realized she wasn't even looking at the screen. "are you even watching it?"
she shrugged and nodded, almost defensive. "i am! you're just..." she exhaled, the faintest grin spreading across her face. "distracting."
you blink, raising a brow but matching her expression. "how am i distracting you? i'm not even doing anything, babe."
she nudges your leg with her knee. "you're just so pretty, i can't not look at you." you roll your eyes, focusing your attention back on the screen when the intensity starts picking back up. and abby let you watch. for a couple minutes, at least.
right when it was getting good, you felt a hand at your thigh. you glance over, she's darting between your face and your thigh; testing the waters. you don't say anything, still partially trying to see what's happening. her hand moves, up, up, right to the hem of your shirt. she pushes the fabric up, and that fully captures your attention.
"whatcha doin'?" you question, watching how she moves closer to you and looks at you with the prettiest, most love-struck eyes you've ever seen.
"nothing. just keep watching," abby reaches up and turns your head back towards the tv. you try your hardest to focus, but the feeling of her hands sliding up your shirt and slowly savoring every inch of your skin was a lot. and it didn't help that she started to kiss your neck, taking her sweet time to cover you with affection.
she trails up your neck, and soon she's kissing your jaw, her hand stationed at your waist. "you're so pretty. can't keep my hands off you, just wanna touch you all the time."
"abby..." you whispered, turning to give her a proper kiss. and that was all she needed. the way your voice sounded was like music to her ears, especially the way her name rolled off of your tongue and dripped like honey. heavenly.
it doesn't take long before you're on your back with her on top of you, her hand pulling your shirt up above your chest like she'll die if it's not off of you. it's so cute, the way her brows are furrowed while she kisses you, the small noises she makes that are just enough to tell you how bad she needed you. her touches are so gentle. she treated you like the most delicate piece of glassware yet she was so desperate for you.
her lips trail down, kissing down your sternum while she looks up at you with glimmering blue-grey eyes. she makes her way down your body, stopping right above the hem of your shorts. by this point, you your hear your heart thumping in your chest even over your thick breaths. "can i?" she asked, voice breathy.
you've never nodded and muttered a 'please' like that any faster.
it wasn't until you felt your shorts slide off and be carelessly tossed to the side that you noticed your show had paused and a large box of text popped up on the screen.
'are you still watching?"
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Went through some of the fics I'd marked to read later this morning and I've gotta say, I'm just...really dissapointed with two persistent things about Ed I read all the time.
I've been noticing a lot, especially lately, that a lot of fics downplay Ed's abilities (usually so they can exaggerate Izzy's). One I read this morning straight-up had a plot point that Ed isn't a good sailor - huh?? I get a little bit of mischaracterization in fics but that's, like, did we even watch the same show level shit. Ed is literally the only character in the show who we actually see putting thought into planning their course, and he's shown to be so expert at it that he can calculate weather changes to the second. Ed is literally a genius, why in the hell did I just read a fic where he describes himself as "not as smart" and no one challenged that?
Why ignore that just so you can give the same ability to Izzy instead? I'm fine with fics that make Izzy into a good sailor on his own terms, of course, but we never really see that in the show from him while we do see it from Ed.
And the other thing, that genuinely shocked me how much I see it when I started paying attention to it, is claiming that Ed "isn't good with words" or "doesn't know as many words" as Stede (and, surprisingly often, Izzy). Ed's vocabulary isn't small; he's got a casual way of speaking that most other characters on the show also share but his vocabulary is in no way limited. We see him show confusion about concepts he's not familiar with (like retirement) and he once mistakes "passive aggression" for "massive aggression" - if mixing up one very similar-sounding word for another is a sign of a limited vocabulary, I think we're all guilty.
I'm just begging some fic writers to think about why they're so deadset on portraying Ed as unintelligent, not good at his job, or as someone with a small vocabulary.
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phantomspiderr · 1 year
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Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader
Word Count: 750+
Summary: a sleepy cuddle with Steven
Warnings/Tags: just some cuddling fluff that I think about all the time, not really any description of reader, reader also doesn't talk, trying to keep it as neutral as possible, I don't think there's anything else but let me know if I've missed something
a/n: two posts in one week omg, Happy Holidays bbys😘
・☆: *.☽ .* :☆
There is no sound throughout the flat, only occasionally is the silence broken by pages turning or scribbling of notes. Another evening of research had turned into being up until the early hours of the morning. Steven was hunched over his desk, hyper-focused on researching for a new exhibition that had been announced at his work. Since he’d finally settled back at home—after everything that happened with Marc, Egypt, Khonshu, all of those things that had been addressed—he’d been dying to get back to the museum. Unfortunately, Donna still worked there and everyone still remembered he’d trashed a perfectly good bathroom for no particular reason but luckily London had many, many museums. Steven felt like his luck had finally begun to change when he came across a part-time tour guide position at another fancy museum. Then the manager had loved his enthusiasm and knowledge so much that they’d offered him the job there and then. Now he's been working there for a few months but he was still set on making a good impression, that and he just found learning all of the knowledge therapeutic. There was a deep-seated comfort for Steven in reading over history books, especially on days like today when the streets of London are covered in snow and the flat is so cosy. He is so lost in his reading that he jumps when the floorboards creak, his head whipping around to your shadowy figure. Steven’s entire body softens, his fight or flight instincts calming down when he sees that you’re wrapped up in a blanket, standing a few feet away sleepily looking at him.
“Hi, little star. What’re you doing up?” Steven reaches a hand out to you, while his other removes his glasses and places them down on the desk. You quietly walked toward him, rubbing at your eyes with your blanketed hand and he can’t stop a smile from forming. As soon as you’re close enough Steven wraps his arm around you, looking up at you fondly, “you okay?” You only nod to the question, the memory of sleep still evident in your brain and Steven knows it’s late, so late, and that he should just allow you to drag him back to bed with him but he’s almost done with this chapter. Then you let out the quietest little whine and he almost gives up there and then, “I just have a few more pages love and then I promise I’ll come to bed. I swear.” Of course, you just pout and whine a little more and again he considers just leaving the rest for tomorrow but he’s so close to being done. He just looks between you and the desk a couple times before the idea pops into his head, “come sit with me till I’m done.” You don’t even take a moment to think about it, immediately climbing into Steven’s lap. With his help, you’re straddled in his lap facing him and he’s cupping your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing the tops of your cheeks while he takes a moment just to admire you. He gives your cheek the gentlest kiss as he allows you to make yourself more comfortable, your arms along with the blanket wrapping around his shoulders and your head resting to the side, tucked against your own shoulder and his face. Steven allows himself a minute to just hold you like this, he hadn’t even realised he was a little cold until your warmth was wrapped around him. He appreciates the comfort before he starts to realise how tired he actually is and now he has to fight his drooping eyes as he picks his book up again.
In no time you've dropped back into a slumber cosied up against Steven and he's struggling now. The urge to finish the chapter slipping from him, maybe he's learned enough for one night or maybe he can just rest his eyes for a moment and he'll find the energy to finish. He decides he'll just rest for a minute and he'll be fine. So, he ever so gently nuzzles his head into your neck, the book he'd been so absorbed with abandoned on the desk in favour of wrapping his arms around your body. Then within minutes he completely succumbs to sleep, research forgotten, now all he thinks of is you. Of how warm you are and that you smell so good and that all he wants at this moment is to stay like this forever. To always be this close and comfortable.
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hyuuukais · 6 months
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚your song (1.6k)
->♡idol!han jisung x fem reader
->♡pov: u fall in love with han jisung
->♡warnings: 1 kind of suggestive comment
it's a little bit funny, this feeling inside
never in your life had you fallen in love. of course, you knew love, you knew her well. love surrounded you in almost every way possible; you knew her like the back of your hand. but romance? fireworks? falling so deep you're drowning in it?
you can't say you're familiar with the feeling.
so when you get this tingling in your fingers as they brush against his arm accidentally, causing you both to look up and blush, you indulge in the foreign feeling. lightheaded, nervous, giddy.
"hi, i'm jisung-" his smile slightly falters as you pull your hand away. "you're felix's friend, right?"
i know it's not much, but it's the best i can do. my gift is my song and this one's for you
overworked, overtired, a cup of hot chocolate turned cold long ago the only thing in your system.
as if he sensed your stress from across the globe, your phone lit up with an incoming call. you debate getting up to grab your phone which is across the room charging on a small table. seeing the contact name decided for you; hanji.
"hello?"
"hey baby," the nickname he'd adopted for you makes your heart swell when he speaks. "you okay?"
"um, yeah, i guess so."
"you don't sound very convincing."
you sigh, giving in and confessing that your workload had been crazy lately. something about him made you want to tell all your deepest secrets, stripping yourself down to the bone for him to see.
"i know i can't do much from here, i wish i could." there's a pause. "what time is it for you?"
"...three am."
"three? y/n i- you!" his reaction makes you laugh. "okay. okay, listen. you, me on the phone, your bed, right now."
"i'm sorry, what?"
"not like that!" he says, a bit too loudly. "i meant like, you go to bed and i stay on the line. i could sing you to sleep."
a blush creeps up your neck, your cheeks, your ears. you agree, of course, and hurry off to bed, you can finish your work last minute in the morning. hearing the one and only han jisung sing to you personally? well, that was an offer you couldn't pass up. little did you know he would do it any time you asked.
his voice comes over the phone softly, and you can even hear him pick at guitar strings. you don't recognize the tune; something new, he said, something i've been working on for y- um, just something, haha. it doesn't take long for sleep to take you, and when you wake, he's hung up. of course he has, he has things to do too. a part of you wishes he'd stayed overnight. there's a text, a simple good morning i hope you slept well!! did you dream of me? :P, and your heart flutters.
and you can tell everybody that this is your song
"y/n hurry up or i'm gonna eat all your birthday cake myself!"
you had just finished getting ready to leave, picking out a green skirt to compliment the shirt jisung wore. you didn't know where you were going, only that one, you were meeting the boys there and two, he wanted to match. green looked so good on him, you couldn't help but stare when he first came into your little apartment.
over the past year, you'd grown closer to him, and one thing he couldn't wait to do was to celebrate your birthday. jisung brought it up multiple times, especially during the last few months, all of the things he wanted to do with you, experience with you. at this point he was almost challenging felix's best friend position.
"oh my god, you look gorgeous." his eyes widen as you step out. "you're joking right? like, you're actually joking? i get to spend my life with someone as beautiful as you-"
now your eyes widen, but it was like jisung hadn't even noticed what he said. he takes your hand in his, making you do a spin; you laugh freely and feel yourself become you in his presence. no one made you feel the way han jisung did.
you were slowly coming to terms with that.
"have i ever told you how much i love you?" jisung wraps his arms around your waist, playfully nuzzling into your neck. anyone looking in would think you were together. "because i love you a lot. shoutout to lix for losing you at that party, 'cause i don't know if he'd have introduced us. keeping you to himself."
he hums a now familiar tune, the song he refuses to tell you about. anytime you bring it up, he shies away, it's nothing, just work. the notes vibrate into your neck. this moment, it's engraving itself into your mind. the intimacy, safety, love.
a moment passes, he moves away from your neck. your faces are dangerously close. his eyes bore into yours, heat radiating off his body. the movement is slight, jisung moving in closer, lips parted.
a knock reminds you of where you are, who you're with, where you're supposed to be going. you break apart.
"i forgot felix was coming here," jisung pouts, leaving to get the door, heart beating just as fast a your own.
i hope you don't mind, i hope you don't mind that i put down in words...
the day finally comes where jisung shows you the lyrics to the song he's been writing. there's not a lot so far, being busy with the tour and all, but enough to feel a deep sadness lie in the pit of your stomach; it's a love song.
"it's... it's beautiful ji," you blink back tears, not wanting him to see. "whoever you wrote this for... they're very lucky."
"if anyone's lucky it's me," he says with a sigh. your back is turned to him, so you don't see the hearts in his eyes, don't feel the way his heart skips a beat when you lean back into him, back against his chest. "she makes me feel... like i could do anything."
he presses a kiss to your temple, and the tears well again.
"she doesn't even realize what she does to me," he says, tone serious. "or how amazing she is, how smart she is. she's a super hard worker, almost too hard, and that's coming from me," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "and her laugh? god, her laugh. you know, i thought i was annoying y- um, her, until she laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of her nose because of some stupid joke i made."
no way, you think, he doesn't mean-
...how wonderful life is while you're in the world
but he did.
that night, you didn't confess, just simply looked at him, eyes understanding. nothing happened, not physically at least, both still too scared to make a move even with the unsaid confession hanging heavy in the air, but something changed.
you were closer than ever, limbs entangled during movie nights, countless "friend dates", endless teasing from the others more persistent. the universe was pushing you together; why was it all so scary? although you were sure he felt the same, you couldn't act upon it. what about the media? and if not that, what about your conflicting schedules? a text pulled you away from those thoughts.
hannie bby - new song up soon !!!!!! ur gonna listen right??
y/n - nah. don't feel like it
hannie bby - WHAT
hannie bby - i mean i guess if you don't want to that's fine you don't have to. it meant a lot to me though but i understand
y/n - i was joking !!!!!
hannie bby - don't scare me like that
y/n - i have yt open rn. just waiting for the countdown
hannie bby - :)
hannie bby - i wasn't going to say until after
hannie bby - but this song is inspired by you
even more curious now, you wait anxiously for the video to start. 3.. 2.. 1.. it plays. it's slow at first, an extremely familiar tune playing in your ears. the lyrics are about love and fear; the fear of love. by the end your eyes have grown watery, almost missing jisungs incoming call.
"what did you think?"
the tears fall. "come over."
within twenty minutes, there's a knock on your door. he stares at your wet cheeks when you open the door, his hands on your face in an instant. warmth, connection. jisung kicks the door shut as you back up into your humble apartment, your arms around his neck. no words are said as he turns you around, hands slowly finding their way down to your waist, your back against the now closed door. your faces are close, breath intermingling.
"kiss me."
and he does.
he does and kissing him is an explosion.
his lips are soft, careful, gentle, grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. your fingers find their way into his hair, lost in the feeling of him against you, chest to chest. when he pulls away, it's brief, you pulling him back more fiercely than intended. a surge of confidence, his tongue brushes against your bottom lip. you let him in, teeth knocking into each other. another heated moment passes before you pull away again, catching your breath. your lips are swollen, pink, his matching and eyes blown out.
"i take it you liked the song?"
"loved it."
he breathes out a laugh, hand caressing your cheek lightly, corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk. it doesn't last long. jisung clears his throat, looking down. his hands take yours.
"if i said i loved you-"
"say it," you take a hand away to lift his chin up.
his eyes meet yours. "i love you. ever since we met, i've loved you."
"i love you too," you smile. "more than words can describe."
he leans in again.
-
-> notes ♡ birthday gift for my love @tfshouldidohere bc i can't see u physically. i love u so much. like so much. like an insane amount you have no idea. i really hope you enjoyed this :3 have THE best birthday ever, i love you i love you i love you <333 💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎💙💗🤎
-> taglist ♡ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
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Digital Circus with a Mime Reader, who CAN speak but prefers to use sign language and gestures: they find find Kaufmo in the middle of abstracting and try to calm him down (against their better judgement). It doesn't go well, ending with them locking and closing Kaufmo's door, and running to find Caine... Only to hear the theme song suddenly stop and Jax say something about a "new character" as they approach...
Ough finally some Kaufmo angst-
........
Approaching Kaufmo's door, you stopped in front of it and politely knocked, wanting to check up on him before Caine could summon everybody to perform the Digital Circus' "theme song" musical number.
As of late, your fellow clown hasn't been feeling up to snuff, since apparently nobody was laughing at his jokes anymore...
Although said jokes have all mentioned something about an exit--a way out of the digital realm you've grown quite comfortable living in. But even when he is dead serious, the others are convinced he's only kidding around, pretending to laugh and sometimes asking him if he could joke about something else.
Least to say...it grew frustrating for him.
The only reason he hadn't totally lost it yet was because of you, a mime who has lived in the circus for the past five months and befriended him quickly. Together you've put on many acts: with his wacky props and your invisible techniques, your shows were amusing to all.
That being said, you didn't want your longtime partner to think about any exits too much, as you've lost several friends in the past when they started talking about the same thing.
It happened to Queener, Kinger's beloved wife, and the poor chess piece has been on the brink of abstraction ever since (honestly, it's a miracle he didn't immediately follow her).
Fortunately, he remained stable enough to be around everyone.
As for Kaufmo?
He didn't look so good last night at dinner, and you haven't seen him all morning. Normally he'd be up and about, juggling random things as he walked or approaching you to brainstorm new acts to perform.
Him locking himself away in his room was not normal.
Especially when he knew this musical number was super important to Caine.
After waiting a minute or two, you perked up as he finally answered the door.
At first you smiled in greeting, although that was quick to fade when he only kept it open just a crack--enough for you to barely see his face...
Which bore a terrified expression underneath his runny makeup, making his frown look worse than it actually is. His hat was nowhere to be found, either.
''Are you okay, Kaufmo?" You signed, eyebrows furrowed in worry.
That was your usual way of talking, despite knowing you could very well speak freely. You had no clue if you were proficient in sign language before entering this circus, but regardless it always came in handy, and everybody did their best to communicate with you that way (or at least those with fingers, unlike Zooble or Gangle).
Since your performances usually involved silence and expressive gestures, you didn't see a need to talk often--and that was usually fine with Kaufmo, who'd always chatter with you in sign language right back.
But when he attempted to respond, you swore you both saw his own hands glitching, before he quickly retracted them, clearly frightened.
You, on the other hand, wanted to believe it was just a "digital hallucination".
That's all it was...right?
"I-I'm sorry, [y/n]..haven't been..feeling like myself-f-f lately.." Even his own voice was betraying him, as it sounded distorted, lagging as though he was a slow computer program. "But you believe me, don't you?"
"Believe what?"
"The...the exit, of course! The thing I've been talking about this whole time!! It's real! There IS a way out!! I-I can show you!!"
You blinked, before shaking your head. "Kaufmo, let me in."
"Oh no, I think that's a bad id--wait! Wait!!" Despite his pleas for you to stop, you forced your way into his room, shutting the door behind you so nobody else could intrude or eavesdrop.
The last thing you needed was Caine listening in.
Yet after taking a look around at the state of his quarters--with everything being a complete mess and the word "EXIT" scrawled onto every square inch of the ceiling and walls--you were nothing short of terrified for his mental well-being.
'My god....what has he done..?' You thought to yourself, mortified.
"No, no, no, no!!"
Looking back at Kaufmo, you saw him back up against the wall, holding his face as black glitchy polygons started appearing on his body. He gasped in horror, looking at his hands...and then up at you.
"What's..h-happening to me-e-e?"
Your heart sunk, knowing exactly what was going on.
"You're abstracting.." You whispered, your voice small yet shaken.
"I-I didn't...think I'd be next...it hurts so much! Christ-!!!" He began crying, his makeup oozing as he stared at you with empty, soulless black eyes. One of his arms was already taken over by the glitches, morphing into a large one covered in jagged polygons.
"Make it stop..MAKE IT STOP!!!" He screamed, slumping to the floor.
You were frozen in a state of panic, unsure if you should go get Caine or stay here and try to pull him out of his abstraction.
Either way, you had to do something fast...lest you lose him forever or become infected yourself.
"Just focus on me, pal. I'm here. I'm here." Kneeling down, you grasped his non-glitching hand tightly with both of yours, attempting to guide him through a breathing exercise.
"You'll get through this." You mouthed, but he just shook his head, noticing a single glowing eye forming on the surface of the glitchy flesh.
"Wh-Whatever you do...don't tell Caine, I beg you-u.." He pleaded. "He'll lock me away...a-and I'll be all alone in the dark..I don't wanna be alone.."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head, and he gazed at you in confusion. "What do you mean "no"? You'd let him throw me into the cellar with the rest of them...?" He started to grow angrier, feeling betrayed. "I thought we were partners!"
"We are partners, Kaufmo. Always will be." You sighed, wishing there was another way to stop this from happening. "But there's nothing more I can do...he needs to know-"
"Fine...maybe things will be better if I'm not around to tell my stupid jokes anymore."
"Kaufmo-"
"Go....run, [y/n]...run-n-n-nnNNNN------"
Immediately after he said that, you let him go right as his other hand quickly became overtaken by the abstraction, almost taking you with it.
You got up and took a step backwards, watching in mute terror as he rapidly grew in size, turning into a massive amalgamation of glitch black polygons. Even more glowy-trippy eyes were popping up in different places, looking in every direction.
Within seconds, Kaufmo no longer resembled the clown you once knew (or a person, in general)....but was instead replaced by a horrific digital beast with a long neck, standing on four legs.
You gulped as every single eye on his body suddenly shifted to stare directly down at you.
'Uh-oh-'
You hastily created an invisible wall just as he lunged at you with a ferocious roar, slamming right into the illusion like a bird smacking into a glass pane.
'He still falls for the oldest trick in the book..oh Kaufmo..'
Although it pained your heart to abandon him like this, he was too far gone to be saved. He didn't even recognize you anymore.
The only thing you could do now was get Caine before he harmed you or anybody else--even if it means you never saw him again. He could very well threaten the entire stability of this world if he got loose.
You quickly ran out of the room just before he could break through the "wall" and go after you, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.
Moments later, you heard him ram into it, the hinges damn near breaking off (but by the grace of cartoon physics, that didn't happen).
You wiped the sweat from your forehead, making a mad dash out of the dormitory section of the tent in a desperate search for Caine.
Unfortunately, you could already hear Bubble's singing in the distance as the gang's musical number routine was already starting:
"Gangle, and Zooble, and Kinger, too~!"
You ran as fast as your legs could possibly carry you. They were already aware of both of your absences, and they chose to go on with the song anyways.
'Jerks..they couldn't at least wait for me?' You huffed. 'Caine never tells us when we're doing these musical ditties-'
By the time you arrived, however, you heard the music abruptly cut out.
You stopped upon seeing your friends tumbled over each other on the floor, with Gangle's comedy mask being broken and Jax picking himself up in annoyance.
"Caine, is this one of your NPCs or is this a new sucker?"
Blinking, you glanced at the new person he was referring to, surprised to see a girl dressed as a red and blue jester.
"........."
Now you couldn't say anything to Caine.
Not right now, at least.
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glorious-spoon · 2 months
Text
he speaks the languages of love [9-1-1 | Buck/Eddie | 1/1]
he speaks the languages of love
4k words | Explicit established relationship | phone sex
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Eddie has been in Texas for nearly two weeks, and Buck has been extremely patient about it, in his opinion. True, it's possible that none of his coworkers would agree with that assessment, but in his defense, he's been existing in a state of sexual frustration not seen since Eddie shoved him against a wall and stuck his tongue down his throat after that close call with the cruise ship back in April.
"Good to know where I rate," Eddie says when Buck tells him this on their phone call the night before he's supposed to come home. He's just come off a twenty-four, so Chris is over at Pepa's and he's back at the loft. The lonely, empty loft.
"I mean it's not just that," Buck protests. "I do actually miss you."
Eddie snorts. "Is that why you bit Ravi's head off earlier today when he was talking about his date staying over?"
"You heard about that, huh?"
"No shit," Eddie says, laughing. "You didn't notice that we work with the biggest gossips on the West Coast?"
"Okay, well, first of all, I apologized for that—"
"Uh huh."
"And also, Hen blows things out of proportion."
"Oh, yeah, that sounds like Hen."
"Okay, fine," Buck admits. "I've been kind of a dick. She threatened to drown me in a washing machine earlier, and honestly, I probably deserved it."
"A washing machine?"
"This guy got stuck—it was a whole thing." He flops back on the bed, staring up at his empty ceiling in his empty loft. "Feels weird being at work without you there."
"I'll be back for our next shift."
"Yeah, I know," Buck sighs. "So, I mean. It's not just sexual frustration, for the record."
"Sure. I just think maybe it's a good thing Chris will be at school so he doesn't have to see you jump me the minute I get back."
"Well, when you put it like that," Buck admits. Eddie laughs, and he adds, "Okay, but you gotta understand, this is like—six months of finally actually getting to put my hands on you, and then I have to go cold turkey for two weeks? It's hard."
"In every sense of the word, I guess," Eddie says, because he's never met a dumb joke he didn't love. Buck groans, laughing.
"You're such an asshole."
"Uh huh. So you're saying you don't want to fuck me into the mattress when I get back?"
"Okay, I didn't say that."
"That's what I thought."
"I do want to, for the record. I've always wanted to. From, like, day one."
Eddie laughs warmly in his ear. "You're so full of it."
"Am not."
"You hated my guts the first day we met."
"Yeah," Buck admits. He yawns, then smears a hand over his mouth. It's late. They should probably both get some sleep. It's just that he really never wants to stop talking to Eddie, especially now that he's two thousand miles away instead of in Buck's bed, where he belongs. "I kinda did. You were infuriatingly perfect."
A snort. "Right."
"Still wanted to fuck you, though."
There's a couple of beats of silence. Then Eddie says, "Yeah?"
-
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