#(<- is going to get distracted from the things she actually wants to make)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I have a request for you!

So I was just thinking how if yuji maybe had a crush on someone and didn’t really know who to ask for advice since nobara would straight up laugh at him, and megumi wouldn’t really care. He knows the reader and Nanami are happily married so he decided to ask him for advice on how to ask the girl out!

This is the cutest thing ever, had to write that asap

Yuji asking Kento Nanami and his wife for relationship advice

Pairing: husband!Nanami x reader; Yuji x reader in a mother/son kinda way

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: If there's one couple that comes to his mind when he thinks about relationships, it has to be you and Nanami-sensei. Who else to ask for relationship advice if not you and him, then?

Warnings: this is pure fluff with a tint of comedy y'all, I'm in love with the Yuji and Nanami content, just a little happiness to brighten your day hehe

Yuji Itadori wanders the halls of Jujutsu High with a slight blush dusting his cheeks. He’s been doing everything he can to pretend everything is normal, but the fact is, he’s got something weighing on him - and it’s not cursed spirits for once. He’s been distracted during training, missing cues and slipping up in ways that aren’t like him. Megumi and Nobara have noticed, but his usual grin deflects their concern. What they don’t know is that there’s a girl he can’t stop thinking about, and Yuji doesn’t know a damn thing about what to do about it.

Which is how he finds himself searching for someone to give him advice - someone who’ll listen without teasing or judgment. He’s crossed Nobara off the list right away, imagining her hysterical laughter that would probably echo through the halls. Megumi was next, but he knew his friend would just shrug and say he didn’t know much about dating either. It isn’t until later that Yuji remembers someone he admires, someone who actually knows about relationships.

But how is he supposed to talk to you?

His footsteps quicken as he makes his way toward Nanami’s office. He knocks twice, then stands there awkwardly without waiting for a reply.

“Come in- Oh, there you are.”

Yuji pushes open the door to find not just Nanami sitting at his desk, but you, his wife, by his side. His heartbeat quickens in an instant. Normally, you don’t spend much time here at Jujutsu High – just like Nanami-sensei himself. It has to mean something that you’re here today when he was just thinking about you, right? Maybe this is the best chance he’ll get in his search for answers.

The two of you have become something of a constant for Yuji, the calm among the chaos that surrounds Jujutsu High. He’s seen the way Nanami looks at you, the subtle way his hand will brush against yours, or the soft look that crosses his face when you laugh. Yuji’s always admired it, but he’s never really thought about it being something he’d want too - until recently.

“Oh, Yuji,” you greet him warmly, your smile immediately easing some of the tension in his chest.

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh! Yeah!”

He shuffles from one foot to the other, trying to work out the right way to say this. Damn, this is even more awkward than he thought.

“I was, um, actually hoping to get some advice? Like… relationship advice?”

He glances at Nanami, who’s watching him with his usual steady gaze, then looks back at you, unsure how to continue.

You exchange a look with your husband before patting the chair next to you, gesturing for Yuji to take a seat with a bright smile and a slight blush creeping up your oh so gorgeous face. No wonder even Nanami-sensei fell head over heels for you.

“Of course, Yuji,” you reply, and there’s a softness in your voice that makes him feel like it’s okay to ask for help.

“What’s going on?”

Yuji sinks into the chair, cheeks still tinged pink as he starts to fidget with his fingers. There’s no turning back now.

“There’s this girl. She’s… she’s really nice and funny and strong, and she’s got this great smile and I, uh…”

He takes a breath, unsure how to continue without sounding like an idiot.

“I think I like her. I just don’t know how to… you know, tell her.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly listening but keeping quiet, letting you take the lead. He never thought that someone like Yuji would ask him for advice in something apart from sorcery. But on the other hand…

Nanami’s gaze drifts over you, your warm and welcoming features, how you take in every little thing Yuji says with those little reassuring nods. If there’s someone who’s able to help Yuji, it has to be you. After all, you were the first woman in his life that swept him off his feet.

You smile, leaning forward a little in order to make Yuji feel more comfortable.

“That’s exciting, Yuji. I’m glad you’re thinking about it, even if it feels a little intimidating. Do you know if she might feel the same way?”

Yuji shrugs, grinning sheepishly.

“I have no idea. I think we get along, but I don’t want to make things weird, you know?”

“Understandable,” Nanami throws in, voice calm and composed.

“Rushing into something like this can make things awkward, especially if you don’t fully understand how she feels. But it’s also not wrong to want to make your intentions clear if you truly like her.”

You nod in agreement, a little surprised by the way your usually so quiet husband now took the lead to give his student relationship advice.

“Exactly. Sometimes, a small step can give you some clarity on how she feels too. You don’t have to go all in at once.”

Yuji looks at you both thoughtfully, clearly absorbing every word.

“But how? Like, I don’t know what to say to her. Should I… compliment her or something?”

You chuckle softly, trying to keep your tone light so he doesn’t feel embarrassed.

“Well, a genuine compliment never hurts. But maybe instead of going straight for it, just try spending a little more time with her first. Get a sense of her interests, things she’s passionate about. You’re naturally friendly, Yuji, so use that to your advantage.”

Yuji’s eyes widen, like a lightbulb just went off in his head.

“That… actually makes sense! If I ask her about stuff she likes, then maybe she’ll see I’m interested, right?”

“Exactly,” you reply, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“And if she responds positively, you can build up to saying something more direct. Just be yourself - that’s probably what she likes about you anyway.”

He nods, almost bouncing with excitement, but then his face falls slightly, concern creeping back in.

“But what if she… doesn’t like me like that?”

Nanami speaks up again, his voice even but warm.

“Rejection is a part of life, Yuji. If it happens, it doesn’t weaken your worth. It just means she’s not ready or interested, and that’s okay. You’ll still be the same person with the same good qualities.”

You reach out, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, a sudden wave of pride rushing over you. When you first met Kento, everyone around you kept telling you that it’ll never work out, that he’ll never feel the same way about you, that he’s cold as ice. But especially moments like this show you more than urgently what a kind heart your husband truly has and why you fell in love with him straight away.  

“And remember, we’re here for you no matter what. But you might be surprised - she may already be hoping you’d say something.”

Yuji takes a deep breath, letting your words sink in. The blush on his cheeks deepens, but there’s a new determination in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, more to himself than to either of you.

“I think… I think I can do this. I’ll try to talk to her more, see what she likes, and maybe, if it feels right, I’ll tell her.”

Both you and Nanami nod, clearly proud of him.

“Good,” you response, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“And let us know how it goes.”

Yuji grins, his usual spark returning to his face as he stands up, looking more energized than he has in days.

“Thanks, you guys. Really. This… this means a lot to me.”

With that, he heads out of the office, leaving you and Nanami exchanging a fond look. There’s something special about watching Yuji grow, about seeing him cope with feelings as regular as a high school crush even amidst the chaos of jujutsu life.

After he leaves, you let out a soft sigh.

“It’s so nice to see him think about something other than fighting for a change.”

Nanami chuckles.

“Yes. Though, if he’s anything like you were when we met, I imagine he’ll be quite charming in his attempts.”

You laugh, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“And if he’s anything like you, he’ll be both charming and a bit stubborn. But I think he’ll figure it out. He’s got a good heart.”

Bonus:

Days later, Yuji catches you in the hallway, an excited smile breaking across his face as he rushes over to you.

“Hey! I… I tried what you said,” he shouts, his eyes bright.

“Oh?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“How did it go?”

“She actually seemed really interested! We talked about some of her favorite movies, and I told her about my favorite songs, and it just… it felt natural, you know?”

He rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

“And then, before I could overthink it, I just kind of… told her I liked her. And… she said she liked me too!”

Your face lights up with pride and warmth, feeling a surge of happiness for him.

“Yuji, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

He laughs, a sound full of relief.

“Thank you. I mean, I couldn’t have done it without your help. I was so nervous, but you guys helped me feel like it was okay to just go for it. Now… now I feel like I can face anything!”

“Not that you couldn’t already,” you reply with a grin, giving his shoulder a congratulatory squeeze.

“You’re braver than you think, Yuji. Just remember, relationships are like fighting in their own way. It takes work and patience, but it’s worth it.”

“I’ll remember that,” he promises, his gaze filled with determination.

And as he heads off down the hall, you’re left with a smile on your face, proud of the young man who continues to grow not just as a sorcerer, but as a person.

A voice brings you out of your thoughts - Nanami, who’s been standing nearby, watching the exchange with a slight smile.

“You have a way with these kids,” he says, his voice gentle.

You turn to him, warmth filling your chest as you take his hand.

“Only because I’ve had a good example to follow.”

He squeezes your hand, his gaze softening as he looks down at you.

“I’d say you’re a natural. And who knows,” he adds with a rare hint of humor, “maybe Yuji’s just opened up the floodgates. We might find ourselves with more ‘romantic advice’ consultations soon.”

You chuckle, leaning into him.

“I think I’d be okay with that. These kids face so much danger. They deserve a little happiness too.”

With a fond smile, Nanami nods, and you both watch as Yuji disappears down the hall, excitement carrying him forward into this new chapter of his life. And for just a moment, everything feels peaceful, like you’re all part of something beautiful in the middle of the storm.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr

[kimmie2me]

Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!fem reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

[innerfare]

Zoro’s Type 

Summary: A list of headcanons describing Zoro's ideal type

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Brave and capable, but beyond that, quite a bit of range (literally anyone from Captain Tashigi to Perona). Brave and capable can take many different forms. He just wants someone who can hold their own, and in lieu of that, is at least determined to try. Trying is the most important bit for a man like Zoro. Even if you fail, he’ll think highly of you for trying. 

Someone on his wavelength, and his wavelength is a little bit dumb: if you’re not making up uncreative, dumb nicknames to tease him with, if you’re not daring him to do reckless, dumb things, if you’re not taking dumb little risks yourself, if you’re not calling him dumb and arguing when he snaps that he’s not, he doesn’t want you. Needs someone who will bicker with him. Claims he wants someone who will make him better, but will really only fall for someone who will make him worse. 

Someone who can give as good as they can get. Someone who teases him back. Someone who is driven absolutely crazy by him they way he is by them.

Really likes long hair. It’s completely impractical, most certainly a liability in battle because someone could so easily pull it. But he really likes long hair. He’s mesmerized by the sight of it, often loses focus. Once snapped at Perona to either put her hair up or go away when she was sitting on the sidelines while he was training because he locks kept distracting him. That being said, gets kind of annoyed if you have long hair and wear it up. 

Also likes girly girls. Again, it’s completely impractical, but he has a thing for girls in pink, especially if they can kick some ass. From Perona’s pink hair to Tashigi’s pink boots and coat, it’s pretty obvious he likes women who are a little dolled up. He doesn’t know why he likes it, but he does, and it drives him insane. Small things like pink nail polish or a simple ribbon in your hair are right up his alley. 

Actually, a hair bow is the most lethal weapon you could use against him. He's also a sucker for a girl who can flutter her eyelashes. Oh, and lip gloss. Yet another impractical, girly thing he'll tell you is stupid because he's annoyed by how bewitching he finds it.

Smart, too, a bit like Robin in that way. Also, a good navigator.

Something of a stoic when it comes to battle and difficult situations. Someone who insists they’re fine when their guts are falling out, someone who claims they’re completely in control when they’re in handcuffs, someone who refuses to beg when an enemy turns them inside out. “Nothing happened.” 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[chrissv4mp]

Hiii so I thought of something that could maybe be good and thought I’d send a request for it. I was thinking something about what happens after the chicken shop date and how Amelia goes on her other date after and Billie is super jealous but the date sucks so she ends up texting Billie the whole time and Billie is still mad but Amelia begs her for another chance and talks her into meeting up after because she realizes she should have just stuck with Billie instead of going on another date and then they hook up. You could make it the reader instead of Amelia if you want I just love the storyline and how flirty and hot Billie was in that interview. For the sex I’d like dom Billie/strap/choking/orgasm denial/squirting if possible but just do your thing hahaha thank youuuh😘

𝜗𝜚 SHE CAN'T COMPARE

WARNINGS: SMUT, sorta angst(?), strap-on sex, choking, orgasm denial, degradation, squirting, dom/sub dynamics, meandom!billie, brattysub!reader.

NOTES: okay woah guys i actually finished this quite fast..

WORDS: 6.2k

SUMMARY: During your "date" with Billie, you accidently let it slip that you have another date after this. However, you can't get the argument out of your head, leading you right back to Billie.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

BILLIE EILISH × F!READER

"I'm actually going on a date after this." You blurt with a smile on your face as you take a sip of your drink. When you see Billie's face drop, you almost choke on the liquid, "Sorry."

Billie just crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair as she stares at you with those intimidating eyes of hers, "What the hell?" She chuckles, glancing at the camera. She didn't look irritated, but you knew damn well that she was.

With all the playful flirting behind the scenes and the soft, quick touches, it wasn't hard to miss that she had at least some interest in you. And it wasn't weird because you've been friends for quite some time before you finally had the courage to ask her to be on the show.

For a few moments, all that consumed the room was silence. Tense silence, to be exact. Billie's gaze spoke to you like nobody's ever did, and somehow, you knew exactly how she was feeling. You bite your lip nervously, eyes moving away from hers as it becomes too much.

"That—it—I didn't mean to say that." You stutter awkwardly, a coy smile on your face for the camera. The whole crew was still here, and you really hoped they didn't notice what was going on between the two of you, "Just a thought I didn't mean to blurt out."

Billie nods her head, "Well, you sure did." She scoffs, sounding more as a laugh to distract the camera crew and the people who would see this when it came out. She tilted her head as you took another sip of your drink to wash away the dryness of your throat.

"Right—shit—Sorry?" You mutter in an apologetic tone, leaning back in your chair to make a little more distance between your bodies. The table didn't even seem to create distance at this point. Her eyes were trained on yours, but yours were nervously tracing the pattern on the tablecloth.

Billie rolls her eyes playfully at your response, fixing her posture and sitting up straight, "So—You're goin' on an actual date after this?" She asks, both literally and just for the cameras. More literally, but nobody has to know.

"No—Billie, it's—This is a real date." You smile, trying to lighten the mood as you giggle softly at her jealousy. She was intimidating, but God, was she childish when she got like this, "I meant like a friend... date. With my girlfriends." You mutter, watching as an amused smile comes to Billie's face.

"Oh, so now you have girlfriends?" She scoffs, tone playful, shaking her head softly as she licks her lips. She adjusts her hat, muttering something too quiet for the microphone to pick up as she reaches for a fry.

You just stay silent, thinking of anything you could say that would change the topic. She was only teasing you now, clearly, "I'm actually just going home right after this. Maybe with you, even." You smile, watching as Billie raises an eyebrow at your harmless flirting.

"But you don't wanna stand up the lucky girl, do ya?" Billie questions, seemingly a joke to the camera, but hitting you very hard in reality. She shifts in her seat again, eyes dragging along your body and silently praying that it wouldn't be caught on camera.

You shake your head as you hopelessly stutter your reply, "I—no—there's no date after this. It was a joke." You play it off terribly, mentally cursing yourself for even blurting the stupid words in the first place, "Y'know, you're really hitting me hard and soft with these replies."

Billie's lips part at your word play on her new album, nodding her head as she chuckles, "Well, maybe next time, don't bring up your other date." She teases. When you glance into her eyes, you can tell exactly what she's thinking. And it's anything but sweet.

"Billie, there's no—I don't have a date, forget I even said that!" You shush, rolling your eyes at her as you take the last sip of your drink. Billie just shrugs nonchalantly, hiding her true emotions as she bites her lip, "Okay."

The camera equipment is slowly getting put away and hauled into the back of some moving van. But, you and Billie are still sitting at the same table you were in the interview. It was getting dark, and you did, in fact, have a real date that you had to be at soon.

Billie stays quiet, finishing up her food and stealing glances at you every now and then. Her thoughts are all over the place, jealousy pumping through her veins as the hand in her lap grips her jeans roughly. Her eyes snap up to yours right when you decide to finally look at her.

"What's her name?" Billie mutters, face even more stern than before when you were both being recorded. Now, she could finally express herself with words that didn't sound light-hearted, "Your date, I mean." She states, taking the last fry into her mouth and waiting for your reply.

You stay silent, almost dumbfounded, that she was still stuck on that topic. It'd been almost an hour and a half since you had that conversation, and yet it was still lingering in the air. A forced chuckle emits from your throat as you sit up straight, "Ms. None-of-your-concern."

Billie perks up at your response, cocking an eyebrow at your words. She'd never seen this side of you, and you really should've known that right now was not the time nor place for you to show her it, "Don't gimme that shit right now. You're acting like a child."

"Yeah, well, were you not acting the same while the cameras were rolling?" You retort, furrowing your eyebrows as the smile on your face slowly fades. She just scoffs in response, rolling her eyes she breathes out some stupid argument.

Your leg bounces beneath the table, mind racing as you check the time. You only had about an hour before your real date, and God, did you want to get away from Billie sooner. You can still feel her eyes burning holes through you, but you pay her no mind, huffing quietly in exasperation.

Billie notices the way you check your phone every few minutes, and it only annoys her further each time she catches you, "Better hurry up. Bet she wants to take you home later tonight, maybe even fuck—"

"Fuck you." You scoff, moving back in the chair as the screeching noise reverberates around the small, empty restaurant. You swiftly grab your jacket before storming out, leaving Billie alone in her seat, fuming.

"But your date's already gonna do that!" She calls angrily, hands clenched into fists as she watches the door slam behind you loudly. Her eyes stay on the glass for a moment longer, almost waiting for you to come back. But, you never do, so she just sits in silence.

Her head lolls back as she closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath before she huffs out in frustration. Sure, maybe she was in the wrong, but who's to say you weren't as well? You knew how jealous she got. Each time she had a crush, she'd always run to you to complain about their ex's, never hiding her jealousy. And she was sure you didn't forget, you just knew how to push her buttons.

Quiet footsteps caught her attention, head turning in the direction of the kitchen, only to find the owner of the small restaurant approaching her, "We're closing soon, ma'am." He says, the tiredness clear in his tone and eyes. Billie just nods, humming quietly as she grabs her stuff and throws it away on her way out.

The lights hanging above you dimly lit the table and the girl across the table from you, highlighting her ocean blue eyes, quite like Billie's mesmerizing ones—No.

You shift in your seat as you listen to her, nodding at almost each word she says in an effort to seem like you were really listening. But, in reality, all you could hear was the chatter of other people seated around you. All you could even think about was what happened earlier that evening, at the restaurant with Billie.

Maybe that was the one thing that was distracting you, the one thing that made you think this date was going horribly. The girl wasn't even boring or an asshole. She was sweet and genuinely interesting. You just didn't know what was wrong with yourself.

You smile softly as you notice she's stopped talking, toying with the food on your plate, your fork twirling the pasta around it but not exactly bringing it to your lips to eat it. You'd lost your appetite, and you knew it wasn't from the food you ate a few hours prior to this.

"You okay?" She asks, and that's the one thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, eyes snapping to hers. They were swelling with concern, and so was her facial expression. God, you were really blowing it. Maybe you were the asshole.

The fork leaves your hand, clattering against the plate softly as you nod in response, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just—Need to use the restroom real quick." You mutter, an apologetic look in your eyes as you stare into hers. You knew yourself that you wouldn't come back, so you didn't even bother promising it, instead just smiling at her before quickly rushing to the restrooms.

When you're out of her sight, you grab your phone from your bag, unlocking it as you open the door to the women's bathroom, making your way down to the furthest stall from the door and locking yourself in.

You click the first pinned contact, not even needing to look at who it is before you begin typing, leaning against the tiles of the bathroom wall.

y/n: hey

You bite your lip as you patiently wait for her response, muttering something along the lines of, "Please don't be mad at me, please don't be mad at me, please—."

When the three little dots show up, you let out a breath you hadn't even known you were holding, gripping your phone tighter as your eyes dart all around the screen.

billie: thought u were at ur date?

y/n: bored

y/n: cant stop thinking about our fight

y/n: you keep distracting me. idiot

You can almost feel her own emotions through the device. That sexy chuckle of hers imprinted in your mind. She gives your last text a thumbs down, and then the three little dots begin to bounce again.

billie: good to know im still on your mind tho

billie: also thats not even my fault??? js stop thinking of me then youll be okay 🤷‍♀️

y/n: kinda hard when you teased me the entire fucking interview

y/n: even off camera dude like wtf

Billie shifts on her couch, your words making her heart swell with pride. Even if you did piss her off, she was still happy she was on your mind. But, really, when wasn't she floating around somewhere in there?

billie: sorry for being me, damn

billie: also wtf why are you skipping over that shit that you did at the restaurant?

billie: like ok tell me you have another date after i was clearly flirting with you fr the entire interview

Her lip was tucked between her teeth harshly, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood as she watched the dots begin to bounce in the small grey bubble again.

When you finally sent the text, her facial expression softened.

y/n: im really sorry billie. i didnt know it would hurt you, it wasnt my intention

billie: huh

billie: well it sure as hell seemed like it was

You sigh quietly as your eyes scan over her texts over and over again. Fuck, why did she have to be stubborn?

Your thumbs quickly begin to work on the screen, typing out an almost pathetic apology. No—It wasn't even an apology—It was more of a stupid text begging her to forgive you.

y/n: im really sorry bills

y/n: i dont want us to fight. please

y/n: i didnt even want to come here after it

y/n: you know i hate when ur mad at me

y/n: ill apologize to u a million times more if thats what u want

Her heart beats faster, and she swears it might pop out of her chest any moment now. Her thumbs quickly type out a response, a stupid smile coming onto her face.

billie: dont

y/n: well can you at least pick me up cus u were being an asshole too

y/n: pls can you pick me up i really dont wanna see the look on the poor girls face when she finds me in this bathroom stall texting u

billie: idk i might js make you wait 30 mins so she can find u in there

Your eyes roll at her texts, scoffing at her responses. She was so difficult, and you hated her for it.

billie: hurry to the front im omw dummy

A smile quickly comes onto your face as you read the last text, almost squealing until you remember that she wouldn't be easy when you got in the car. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

The car pulls up slowly in the front of the restaurant, and you glance back one final time at the windows before scurrying off the sidewalk and jumping into the passenger seat of Billie's car.

She doesn't even wait for you to put your seatbelt on, quickly driving forward to exit the parking lot of the place. Her eyes trace your side profile as she waits for cars to pass, her gaze going unnoticed as you buckle your seatbelt.

"Have fun?" She mutters quietly, jealousy bubbling underneath her skin and seeping through in her tone as her eyes avert back to the road. You turn your head at her words, sighing in annoyance. She was still going on about it.

Your cross your arms over your chest as you look out of the windshield at the cars passing by, feeling her car jolt forward as she gets onto the main road, "If I did, I wouldn't have texted you, idiot."

Billie scoffs at your name-calling, rolling her eyes as she presses on the breaks at a red light. She takes the chance to look at you again, eyes traveling lower this time and catching onto your change of clothes.

You were wearing a short black dress, the neck cutting low and exposing some of your cleavage. She would've pounced on you right then and there if it wasn't for the traffic behind her. And also if she wasn't still so fucking furious at you.

Her own choice of clothing was the complete opposite of whatever slutty piece of cloth you were wearing, her sweatpants hanging low on her waist and exposing the waistband of her 'HIT ME HARD AND SOFT' boxers.

When the light turned green, it was your turn to admire stare. On her top half, she was wearing a little white tank, the straps thin and almost slipping off her shoulders each time she moved her arms to turn the wheel.

Her nipples were poking through the thin tank, and it felt almost impossible to look away. Until she spoke and you got too nervous to keep staring, "Well, I still wanna know how it went."

Liar. She was only talking about it so that you wouldn't forget the deep shit you were in when you got to your house. Or maybe her house? You didn't know, and you honestly didn't want to. You wouldn't bother asking, either, not wanting to hear the whole, 'why did you change the topic?' rant.

"It was good, actually." You murmur, an idea sparking in your head as you glance at her face again. You can practically see the way her eyes twitches in annoyance, and it only spurs you on to say your next words, "She was so sweet, and she cared a lot. I could tell just by her pretty eyes."

Billie has to stop herself from slamming on the breaks in the middle of the road, instead deciding to breathe in deeply and bite her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel increases in tightness, tilting her head to the side like she always did when she was infuriated.

"Yeah?" She seethes, cocking an eyebrow as she takes another quick glance at you. She catches a glimpse of that stupid smile on your face, and it only makes her angrier. You hum in response.

"Yeah." You reply, giggling quietly as you watch her knuckles turn white from the grip she has on the wheel. She presses down on the gas harder, and the car only accelerates faster down the route to her house, "Flirted with me the entire time, asked me if I needed anything. She even pulled out my chair for me."

Billie nods almost robotically, like she's being forced to listen to you brag about the girl. Because she is. She can't just jump out of the car into the road, even if she really did want to in that moment.

"That's—Yeah, that's nice." She mutters, jaw clenched. Even if you had only said a few sentences about no-name-girl, she was tired of it already. She only started the conversation to maybe undermine you? She didn't even know anymore, all she knew was that she was going to die if you kept talking about this girl.

"And—" Billie couldn't turn onto the street to her house fast enough, speeding down the road as she tried to drown you out. Her eyes burned holes through you, specifically your chest. She didn't understand why you chose to wear that revealing dress for that stupid girl and not for her.

She pulled into the driveway quickly, turning her key and pulling it out after putting the car in park. Her hands rested in her lap as she threw her head back against the headrest, eyes shutting softly as she breathed out.

"Stay there." She whispered, getting out of the car and slamming it with a loud thud. Your eyes followed her as she rounded the car, gaze coming down to see her sweatpants falling down only a little further.

She opened your own door before you could. It made her crazy when you even tried to open it by yourself, so even if she was pissed, she'd never forget to open it for you. When you exited her car, she slammed your door and locked the car, following behind you to the front door.

You type in her code proudly, reaching for the door handle but quickly being swatted away by her own ring-clad hand. You laugh at her gestures, watching as she opens the door for you and lets you go in first.

She's silent the whole time. Even as she closes and locks the door behind her, no words slip from between her lips, only gentle breaths as she rubs her temples. Her eyes basically undress you as you walk down the hall and throw your bag onto her couch, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds pass by.

Her vision is blurred as she follows after your footsteps, time seeming to slow as she looks around at the pictures hanging on the walls. When she finally makes it into the living room, you're sitting down on the couch, legs spread like you owned the place.

And, honestly, it seemed like it after being here 24/7. You even convinced Billie into giving you a key with no hesitation on her part. She grips onto the wall harshly, holding herself up as her eyes take in all that was you. Your scent already fills the room, making her head spin and blurring her vision further.

Her other hand rests inside of her pants, the action normal because of how abnormally cold she always was. But, this time, you see her hand moving beneath the fabric in a repeated motion. Like she's stroking something.

Your lips curve into a smirk at the sides, sitting up taller as you realize. She only comes closer, now leaning against the far end of the couch across from you.

"Thought you were mad." You hum, tilting your head in imitation. You cross your legs, hands running along your thighs through the fabric and making your dress ride up. Billie groans quietly, gaze fixed sternly on you.

A few more steps, and now her hand is holding herself up on the couch cushion you were sitting on. Her lips almost touch your earlobe, breathing on your neck as her small smirk fades. She scoffs, her other hand slowly creeping onto your thigh and squeezing, "I'm fucking furious."

You smile at her words, gasping softly as she squeezes your thigh tighter. She leans back, lips level to yours as her eyes flit down to them, then back up to your beautiful eyes. You're the first one to close the gap, grabbing her face and practically pulling her onto your lap, your lips fitting onto hers so perfectly.

Her hands moved to your hips, quickly flipping your positions so that you were on top of her. As you sat on her lap, you could feel the bulge beneath her sweatpants poking at your thigh, causing an amused smile to creep onto your face, "Predicted this, huh?"

"Shut up." She grumbles, ring-clad fingers wrapping around your neck and smashing your lips onto hers. Your hips slowly grind on her sweatpants, moaning quietly against her mouth as your hands grip at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

Billie groans at the subtle pain, pushing her hips up when she feels you begin to rock back and forth on her lap. Her free hand moves down to undo the tie of her sweatpants, finding it difficult with only one hand and her eyes closed, "Ma, take 'em off f'me, would you?"

You don't hesitate, the need to tease her thrown out of the window. For now, at least. Your hands leave her shoulders quickly, pulling away from her lips with hesitancy as you look down to see what you're doing. Billie's eyes are on you the whole time, biting her lip as she feels you tug down her sweatpants and let them pool at her ankles.

Billie bucks her hips against you, and this time, it's like you can feel everything. Your lips part in surprise at her sudden movement, a quiet squeak emitting from your throat at how big her dick feels.

"Gonna sit and stare, or are you gonna take it off?" Billie sighs, her patience wearing thinner than before. It didn't help that you were still fully clothed, either. Her hands leave your neck and hip, moving behind and messing with the zipper of the skimpy black dress that adorns your beautiful body, pulling it down until you could easily slip out of it.

You crawl off her lap, eyes hooded and full of desire as you slowly strip for her. Her hands grip the couch cushions tightly, holding herself back from even saying anything that would elicit a snarky response from your part.

The dress falls to the floor, revealing your naked figure to her. She wanted so bad to call you a slut for not wearing any undergarments, to degrade you until you broke beneath her and finally gave in. But she stayed silent, instead taking in your mind-consuming presence.

When you came closer and dropped to your knees in front of her, she bit her lip. Her hands and thighs trembled as you rested your cheek on the inner part of her thigh, leaving a wet kiss on the bulge in her boxers before you grabbed the waistband of the constricting fabric with your teeth. Her breaths were short and ragged, eyes wide as she watched the silicone cock spring free.

Once her boxers were at her ankles, your eyes found hers again, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you came closer. Your lips hovered over the tip of her dick, spitting on it before your hand came up to stroke it softly, thumb rubbing at the tip as if she could actually feel it.

"Get up." She breathed, eyes locked on yours as you continued to stroke your hand up and down her dick, listening carefully to each quiet sound that she made, whether it be a whimper or a real moan, "Y/N, fuckin' listen." It was a clear warning, the way her tone changed just an octave lower, a very prominent warning that she wasn't gonna be easy if you disobeyed her again.

But, still, you stayed on your knees in front of her, your hand rubbing the silicone quicker. And, as much as she liked the way you looked on your knees, her hand quickly came down to grab a handful of your hair, tugging at it harshly in yet another warning.

This time, you listened, nodding softly as your hand left her cock, rising to your feet in front of her. Her hand left your hair as you moved up, standing up and stepping out of her sweatpants and boxers, kicking off her shoes and leaving her in only socks and that thin tank top barely covering anything.

"Want you on the bed, Y/N." She demands softly, eyes hooded and irises swirling with lust and anger. You nod, biting your lip as your eyes fall lower on her body, chuckling quietly as you see the fake dick standing tall between her thighs, "And don't make me fucking tell you again." She snarls.

You nod again once her words register in your head, your feet taking you down the hallway and into her room at the end of it. You shut the door behind you softly, scurrying onto the bed and seating yourself in the middle of it, back against the headboard and legs spread just for when she came back.

The time seems to pass way slower as you shift on her dark sheets, your lower back leaning against the pillows that she slept on each night. The room smelled heavily of Billie, her perfume filling all your senses and going straight to your core. This wasn't where you expected to end up tonight at all, but you weren't against it.

The creaking sound of the door is what catches your attention, finding yourself sitting up taller and gripping at the sheets. Billie pushes the door open slowly, hair up in a low ponytail, her tank top gone and revealing her tits.

You're unable to suppress a whine as she comes closer, locking the door behind her and only making you squeeze your thighs together, bucking your hips against nothing but the cool air in the room.

She moves so quickly that it should've been considered inhumane, her hands touching you everywhere all at once. Her hair tickles your shoulder as she tilts her head, lips pressing against your neck so softly as her hands grip at your tits so roughly. Her knee is slotted between your thighs, pressed harshly against your wet pussy and feeling every movement you make.

"She wouldn't kiss you like this," Billie whispers, biting at the sensitive spot just behind your ear, feeling as your body tenses beneath her, throat dry, and lips agape to let out all the pretty noises she was the cause of, "Only me." She finishes her sentence, moving to another part of your neck to scatter kisses and marks anywhere she possibly could.

Her thumbs circle your nipples, nails leaving soft indentations as she tries her hardest not to go absolutely insane on you. Just the thought of that girl fired her up, urging her to just ruin you first and then take it slow. But the bratty attitude you had all day only encouraged her to tease you, break you slowly, and then fuck you hard and rough until you were unable to say anything but her name, "I'm right?" She breathes, kissing your collarbone as she descends your body.

Her teeth nibble at the skin just above your tits, leaving hickeys in the shape of a heart slowly but surely. All you can do is nod in response, body reacting so eagerly to her teasing touches and kisses. She was driving you insane, but if you said anything, she'd only take it slower. It was torture.

"Answer me." Billie demands, biting down particularly hard just above your nipple, smirking against your skin as she hears you yelp softly. It's almost like she can feel your heartbeat on her lips, her head spinning with every idea of what she wanted to do with you tonight, "You were very keen to the idea of fuckin' smart-mouthing me during that interview. In front of people, too?"

"God, you just can't stand being good for more than 5 minutes, can you?" She scoffs softly, voice teasing and playful, but her words were real. She meant everything, and you knew that very well. Her lips wrapped around your nipple when she felt your fingers in her hair, tangling in the dark strands and pulling weakly. You whined at her degrading words, her knee hitting your clit perfectly as you rocked your hips sloppily.

"Bills—Only you, j-jus' you," you confirm, your voice merely a mewl in her ears, but to you, it was using all of the strength you currently had, trembling beneath Billie even though she's barely even touched you yet, "Please..." You beg, eyes fluttering shut as you find the perfect spot on her knee to grind on, hips moving faster.

Billie moves to your other nipple, sucking harshly and nibbling at the erect bud as her hands caress your thighs, nails scratching up and down your skin and making your thighs tremble just that little bit more. She releases your nipple from between her lips with a pop, now hovering over your face, removing her knee from between your legs, guessing knowing that you were close, "Please, what?"

"F-fuck me, Billie—Please—Jus'.. mm." You stumble over your words, mind scattered and unable to say anything to form a real sentence. Billie understands, though, a cocky smirk on her face as she moves her hand to one side of your body, holding herself up as her other hand pulls your thighs apart, lining her cock up with your entrance before she pushes it all in at once.

Your quiet cries are music to her ears, your trembling body cute and meek. Her hand leaves the silicone dick, traveling up your body and leaving a trail of fire up to your neck where she wraps her fingers around your throat, applying more pressure than you thought she would. You gasp quietly, the action only making the whole situation hotter and more intimate. She tilts her head, "You like that, don't you?"

You nod the best you can, whimpering softly as she slowly thrusts her hips, eyes examining your every movement from the way your chest rose and fell with the ragged breaths you took to the way your eyes fluttered each time her dick rubbed you in just the right way. Pathetic pleas for her to go faster slip from your lips, toes curling at her torturously slow pace, hands fisting at the sheets messily.

"Pleasepleaseplease—faster.." Billie's grip on your throat tightens at your words, eyebrows furrowing as she watches your eyes roll back, "Want me deeper, yeah?" She mocks, the fire in her lower abdomen growing as she sees you nod frantically, her hips already slamming into you almost twice as fast than she was fucking you before.

She leans closer to your neck, inhaling your scent and smelling her own perfume on your skin. A chuckle fills your ear, only making you moan louder, the whiny sound reverberating off the walls. Your back arches, chest coming up to brush against hers as you writhe beneath her relentless pace. Grunts fill your ears as she finds the perfect rhythm, muttering the dirtiest things in your ear imaginable. The words she was spitting should've cut deep, but they didn't, only adding to your pleasure and making you physically react.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, you see stars flash behind your eyelids, her strap hitting that sweet spot each time she thrusts into you. Your knuckles are white from the animalistic grip you have on her sheets, your orgasm approaching quicker than you could've imagined. Billie doesn't miss the way your breathing pattern changes, feeling it on her chest and hearing it 10x louder now that your head was turned slightly to the side, "Bill—Baby, fuuckk... plea—!"

"Hm?—Tell me, Mama, tell me." She mutters, almost begging you as her hips slap against yours each time she fully bottoms out. An evil smile is plastered on her face, but you don't know that. You don't even know what she'll say in response to your pleas to cum. But, you honestly don't think you'd be able to hold it either way, "Too fucked out to speak, s'that it? Can't even think, can ya? My dumb girl."

"Cum—Wanna cum, please, need t'cum!" You warn, your voice a mere squeak as you pull at the sheets. Tears streak down your face now, her silence making it impossible for you to keep whatever composure you had left. Billie breathes softly into your neck, kissing your shoulder before coming up to press a sweet kiss to your neck. Much sweeter than the words that fall from between her lips, "I think you can wait, hm? Since you made me wait so fuckin' long for this." She shakes her head in faux disappoint, scoffing.

"Hold it." She snarls, eyes narrow, lips parted and swollen, hips relentless. The headboard hit the wall in time with her hips, bedframe creaking beneath your bodies as she fucks you wildly, making it impossible to obey her commands. You try to squeeze your thighs together, but she doesn't let them close, sighing in annoyance as she gives your throat a warning squeeze, having you gasp for air, "Just a little longer." She groans, almost like she can feel the way your pussy clenches around her dick, walls fluttering from the immense pleasure.

Cries and whines are the only things that can leave your throat, dry from the screaming and moaning you've been doing for almost—Fuck, you didn't even know at this point. All you did know was the size of her dick, the sounds of her groans, and the look on her face as she fucked you recklessly. The bed shook, and you were sure her neighbors would be here in the morning to complain about the noises, but neither of you cared. The only thing either of you cared about was that you finally had each other.

Your vision blurs from the tears in your eyes, trying your best to keep them open but failing in the end as she pushes her body closer to yours—if that was even possible—and hits you at a different angle, the silicone cock sliding deeper between your walls. She's almost surprised at how well you're holding up, a smirk on her face as she tries her hardest to break you, free hand pulling and twisting at your nipple as her other squeezes your throat from time to time.

"Cum." She finally allows. It takes you a moment to register, but once you see her head nod in your blurred vision, you let go. The light, wet ring around the base of the dick only gets whiter as your juices flow onto her, squirting onto your thighs and parts of hers as your body shakes uncontrollably beneath hers. Your back arches further, chest pressing harsher against hers as you cry out her name, lower lip trembling, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou—Mm.." Your words come out in a hurry, thoughts messy and incapable of forming any other words.

Her hips slow, helping you ride out your high before she stops completely. She leans over you, fingers unraveling around your neck and coming up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your tear-stained cheek with a look of adoration in her ocean blue irises, "Y'think she'd be able to do that?" She teases, giggling softly at your mumbled words, your eyelids fluttering open and closed, clearly sleepy.

"Shh.." You giggle stupidly, pushing her face away weakly. You gasp quietly when you feel her pull out slowly, wincing at the slightly overstimulating feeling. The emptiness makes you frown, whining like a baby as she pulls away from your body completely, "No, no, Ma, m'right here." She coos as she comes back into your blurry vision, strap discarded somewhere on the floor. Her hands wrap around your body, enveloping you in warmth as she cuddles close to you, "She can't compare." Billie whispers, knowing damn well she won the stupid challenge that she made up.

[astrasng]

ᝰ.ᐟ NCT DREAM as The 1975 songs

a/n: this is my first group as songs post, but i'm planning on doing more for other groups too! if anyone has requests, please don't be afraid and send them in my inbox! <3

also i would like to add that in this post there may be mentions of toxicity, BUT i have no intention saying that person is toxic.

please, enjoy! <3

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ MARK as Then Because She Goes.

The song is specifically a dreamy, romantic anthem for someone who wants to confess their love. The rhythm and the lyrics perfectly symbolizes Mark as someone who is in love with music. His feelings are so strong and complex that he finds it easier to fill a paper with his thougths and then write a song about it. He would definately do this, if he feels overwhelmed about his thougths inside his head.

For Mark I would also say She's American and Oh Caroline.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ RENJUN as Fallingforyou.

The song is about a person falling for someone, sharing the persepective of beautiful, harmonic feelings. I think when Renjun loves someone, the happening itself has a soft atmosphere around it, giving the person all he has just to love his partner truthfully and wholely. Renjun would take a moment when he realizes he had fallen in love, soaking in his feelings about his partner and wondering what beautiful things he can do with his other half.

For Renjun I would also say So Far.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JENO as Somebody Else.

Somebody else lyrically deals with the after-effects of a breakup, and overswing over the idea of the former lover’s new relationship. The song describes being caught between the various emotional phases one experiences after the end of a relationship. Jeno loves dearly, his feelings strong towards someone he loves. He has a hard time letting go his partner, acceptting they had found a new person to call home.Despite the jealousy, deep inside he would feel solace of seeing that his former lover is not lonely.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ HAECHAN as Be My Mistake.

The song mainly focuses on an insignificant hookup during a relationship, or even after one. This reflects on being young and careless, not knowing what we want in real life. Haechan appears to be a bold person, his personality eager with experiences and wants. Haechan being a young free mind, could often get him into not thinking through things, feeling the aftermath of the mistakes he had done. But mistakes often wake people up to realize what they already have. He could make mistakes in life, but in the end, he is that kind of person who appreaciates what he already has.

For Haechan I would also say The Sound and Oh Caroline.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JAEMIN as About You.

About you is strongly based on the sensations when you are deeply in love. Jaemin's feelings for someone is treasured, his memories documented often in pictures as being a photographer. But as the song tells, the singer describes how he still remembers why he loves his partner. Jaemin would be like this too, going through hardship in a relationship but nevertheless stating the obvious, he is in love. Even if life would get in a way, he wouldn't forget his partner, and why he loves them. Rectracing situations and memories of what made him happy, the things he misses in life.

For Jaemin I would also say All I Need To Hear or You.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ CHENLE as A Change Of Heart and Robbers.

For Chenle I chose two songs. A Change of heart shows the reality about falling out of love, along with Robbers, which shows the toxicity side and how destructive it can be. I think Chenle as being an idol would be too distracting for him to really pay attention to a relationship. Doesn't matter how much he doesn't want to admit, it robs him and his partner from actually having the feeling of love towards each other,realizing that they have much more to experience in life.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ JISUNG as Me & You Together Song.

The song is tender, an act of being young and in love. Jisung being the naive and youngster he is, he would fall in love with the idea of being in a domestric bliss with his partner. The song features the dreams and fantasies one has to another, the feelings not reciprocated. I think Jisung has suffered in this in the past, or will in the future. I think the upbeat rythm fits Jisung, the 1990s and early 2000s vibe naturally drawn to him. The song has a nostalgic feeling to it, and I think this song is what it would be like remembering back to Jisung after a breakup.

[graciegoeskrazy]

one more fight - she's begging you to stay stay part THREE

Matty Healy x lost!OFC!daughter!r

part 1 part 2

Warnings: crying, mourning/death of a parent, mention of running away, school lol, idk really, angst, ft George a bit

A/N: Idk how I feel about this but I think it's good. I had this way longer originally but the rest will just be separate parts. Some if the rest isn't s angsty (who IS she??) I like it. When Liam Payne died this reminded me that this is basically “I got adopted by one direction” fan fiction so now I hate it all actually but whatever

It had been a week since you attempted to run away from home, and a week since you decided to try calling this place home.

The days had been strange and tentative, each one blending into the next. You were slowly piecing together routines, latching onto anything that made you feel settled, though part of you wasn’t ready to trust the feeling. School, of all things, had become a useful distraction. It wasn’t that you suddenly loved studying or cared much about what grades you’d get—just that there was comfort in the rhythm of it. It gave you something to think about other than Matty or Mum. With midterms looming, you had a convenient excuse to keep your head down, keep to yourself, and attempt to be unnoticeable.

Your room, the biggest you’d ever had, still didn’t feel entirely like yours, Since the night Matty found your diary and read how you truly felt about staying, you’d been slowly adding little pieces of yourself to it—posters, knickknacks, little things that might make it feel like you belonged there. Nothing too bold or permanent, just small touches, as if you were testing how much of yourself you could leave behind in this space without making it obvious. It was easier to imagine Matty noticing and disapproving, though he’d only ever tried to show how much he wanted you to feel loved.

Every morning he’d check in, a soft knock on your door, asking if you needed anything. He never asked outright if you were okay or if you wanted to talk, and you only assumed it was because he knew that was too much to ask, too soon. Instead, he let you take each day as it came, hoping that small gestures—a cup of tea, your favorite snack he’d bring home for you, a movie night he’d suggest but would never force—would show you that this was, in his eyes at least, home for as long as you wanted it to be. Maybe even for good.

Yet the question lingered in the air between you both, like a thread that neither one of you wanted to pull. The question of staying. You hadn’t spoken about it since the night he found your diary, and though you’d been too mortified to say anything then, you wondered now if he’d been waiting all along for you to come to him and make it real with words. But for now, you settled into the quiet in-betweens, letting the weeks go by without saying anything final, and instead working to leave small pieces of yourself where you hoped they might take root.

…….

You never heard the quiet rumble of the car outside or the front door shutting. It was only when the light spilling through your bedroom door shifted into the shadow of a man that you finally turned around. Matty stood there, dressed in black with his wallet and keys in hand, dress shoes still on—he hadn’t even bothered to drop them off by the door. He’d come straight to you. “What the bloody hell are you doing up at this hour?” he asked. You rolled your eyes, too exhausted for his lecturing, and turned back to your work.

“Studying,” you said calmly.

He walked toward you, his tone firm but holding no anger or malice. “Not at one in the morning! You should be in bed. I told you I wanted you asleep by the time I got home.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up from your work.

He sighed, setting his keys and phone down on your desk. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes,” you replied, a little too quickly.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re lying now, are we?” You shot him a confused look. “I checked my credit card charges,” he added, shrugging with a smile. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your study guides. But before you could get back to work, he closed your laptop and began shutting the books on your desk. “It’s time for bed.”

“No, I’m busy.” You said, starting to open everything back up. Matty started closing everything again as soon as you did, putting more books into your backpack beside your desk.

He laughed, which pissed you off even more, “Don’t tell me ‘no’, it’s time for bed.” You ignored him, opening your laptop and trying to resume working, but it was no use, he just kept shutting everything off around you,

"Stop," His voice was firm, cutting through the air. The word felt heavier than it should, a gentle command that broke through the walls you had been trying so hard to keep up. Your body reacted instantly, curling in on itself as if his voice had unlocked something inside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and clamped your hands over your eyes, as though covering them could make the world go away. The tears you'd fought all night surged forward, warm and relentless. The sobs you’d been choking back finally broke free, trembling out in small gasps, filling the silent room.

For a moment, you felt nothing but the weight of it all—your sadness, your anger, the uncertainty that seemed to wrap itself around you like a second skin. You couldn’t stop shaking, the tears pouring out faster than you could handle, but before you could drown in them, you felt Matty slowly shift beside you. His hand wraps around your wrist. It wasn’t forceful, just a quiet, persistent tug, and you let him pull your hand away from your eyes. Your vision blurred through the tears as you blinked up at him, trying to make sense of his face through the haze of emotions.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice softer now, the firmness replaced by something warmer, something that felt like home. His arms opened prompting you to come to him.

Without thinking, you moved. The space between you two disappeared in a second as you pushed yourself off your desk chair and stumbled into him. You buried your face in his chest, your body shaking as his arms came around you, pulling you in tightly like he was trying to piece you back together. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that began to steady your own.

"It’s okay," he whispered into your hair, his voice a soothing tone against the storm raging inside of you. "I’ve got you. Let it out."

You sobbed harder, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as if clinging to him could stop you from falling apart completely. He didn’t flinch, instead, his hands moved in slow, comforting circles across your back. His touch was light but steady, grounding you with each stroke. He rocked you gently, the motion slow and rhythmic like he was trying to lull you out of the darkness with nothing but his presence.

"Shh," he murmured again, his breath warm against your hair, "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

His words wove their way into the cracks of your heart, slowly calming the tidal wave of emotions crashing inside of you. The ache in your chest began to ease, though the tears kept coming. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed this, how much you’d been holding back until this moment. The dam had broken, and now there was no stopping the flood.

But he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you tighter, wrapping his arms around you like a shield, protecting you from the world. He leaned back slightly, shifting his position so that you could sink further into his embrace, his arms cradling you like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice steady. Each word felt like it was unraveling the tight knots that had wound themselves deep in your chest, loosening the tension that had been building since your mom died. You weren’t sure how long you’d been crying, but he never left your side, never pulled away,

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and slowly, the sobs began to fade. Your breaths, though still shaky, came easier now, and the iron grip you had on his shirt began to soften. You felt heavy—exhausted, drained—but somehow lighter at the same time, as if some weight had been lifted. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing soothing patterns across your back, his thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over your shoulder blade.

He didn’t push you to speak. He didn’t pry or prompt you to explain. All he did was hold you, shushing your tears, whispering that everything was going to be okay. And it was you who chose to break the silence, your voice muffled against his shirt as you continued to cry into him.

“I just miss her,” you whispered, your words broken by the tears that hadn’t fully subsided.

He paused for a moment, letting the weight of your words hang in the air. The only sounds were your quiet hiccups and the soft rustle of his breath as he held you tighter.

“I know,” he finally said, his voice gentle, full of understanding.

“I just...want to see her again.”

“I know, baby-”

“And I’m so tired.” The exhaustion wasn’t just physical at this point.. Every part of you was worn thin, stretched beyond breaking.

“I know,” he whispered again. “But pushing yourself like this, studying until you can’t see straight, working every second of every day... it won’t bring her back, love. It won’t take away the hurt.”

His words settled in your chest, heavy but true. You felt the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he pressed a kiss there. He then spoke words that would take a while to itch out of your brain, “You don’t have to be so strong all of the time, kid.” You continued to let the small tears flow off of your cheeks and onto his shirt, “You can ask your help every once in a while, you know that right?” You didn’t nod or answer, just stayed still, letting his words sink in.

He looked at you as he spoke, “You’ve had a long day,  I’ll bet money your exams will go just fine, and deep down, I think you know that, too.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes soft but serious. “But if you don’t get some rest, you’ll be too tired to keep your eyes open for any exam you take.” His fingers brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It’s time for sleep now, love.” You just nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed. I'll be right here.” You slowly pried yourself off of him, the chill in the air coming back without his warmth.

You grabbed one of the pajama sets from your dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The momentary silence felt heavy, almost suffocating after the outpour of emotions just moments before. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly as you turned it on, casting a harsh glow on your reflection in the mirror.

For a second, you just stared. Your face was blotchy and red, eyes swollen from crying, dark circles lingering beneath them from nights of restless sleep. It was hard to recognize yourself like this—so raw, so vulnerable. A completely different person than the one you were mere months ago. You reached up to rub at your cheeks, your fingers brushing over tear-streaked skin, but the feeling lingered deeper than the surface.

You dried your face, tugging on your pajama top and slowly made your way back out of the bathroom. Matty was still sitting where you left him, his expression soft but watchful as you re-entered the room. He didn’t say anything, just gave you a small, reassuring smile, patting the spot beside him.

And without thinking, you went to him, letting the quiet between you two speak for itself.

He moved out of the way and moved the covers down, prompting you to get in. He pulled them up once you settled in and started fluffing your pillows. His gaze finally met yours once he got you settled and he couldn’t help the small frown on his face when he saw your eyes, still full of tears.

“Shh. It’s alright my love.” he said, voice almost a whisper, secretly trying to lure you to sleep

You looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. The ones he has become very accustomed to. “Will you stay with me?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

It took everything in your father to not cry in that moment, seeing you so small, so fragile. So terrified of what was to come made his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Of course I will.” He said.

Once he took his place next to you, you wasted no time, immediately finding a spot against him and his chest. He held you tighter as you cried into him. He didn’t say a word, yet you felt the most supported you’ve ever been. It almost felt as if a weight started to lift off of you. Eventually, your sobs subsided. The amount of crying in that short time was enough to wear you out during your barely conscious state, He was still in his dress shirt and pants, not that he cared. All he could think about was you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to let go of you.

…….

George bursted through the door, slamming it loudly. Not aware of your sleeping form on the couch, You were cuddled into your father, asleep, face hiding in his chest while your legs were sprawled out on the rest of the couch. To Matty’s surprise, his loud, booming voice didn’t wake you. Matty shut him up before he could continue. “Shhhh! Shut up will you!” he whispered. If he could’ve shouted he would.

George abruptly stopped when his eyes caught sight of you. “Christ, is that her?”

“No, it’s another 12-year-old who lives in my house.” George rolled his eyes. Matty continued, “She’s still asleep. Come sit.” He nodded towards the chair next to him.

He saw George’s hesitant look as he slowly crept to the couch, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. Matty noticed the way his gaze hovered over you as he took slow, calculated steps towards the chair, afraid a creek in the floorboard would wake you up. He spoke as he sat down. “Why so tired? It’s barely 3?”

Matty shrugged, “She’s been up late. Barely sleeps through the night since Flo died. Being up through the night studying for her exams sure didn’t help.”

George quietly sighed. “Poor girl.” He looked at you once more, paying attention to your features, now having a proper chance. “Christ, she looks just like you.” He said, almost a whisper.

Matty looked up at him quickly. “You think?” He said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

“Without a doubt.”

Matty hummed, looking at you again, “Acts like me too, stubborn as hell.”

George let out a small laugh before quickly responding. “Nah, I don’t imagine she’s as big of a pain in the ass as you.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Oh shut-”

“Dad?”

Both men panicked when they heard the timid and groggy sound of your voice. You were still half asleep, not even bothering to open your eyes all the way. The sun peeking in through the living room windows was too bright anyways,

“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” He whispered sweetly. “Go back to sleep, darling.”

You rubbed your eyes as if doing so would get rid of the tiredness in them. “What are you doing?” You asked while stretching.

“Nothing, just talking with George. Come here, come back to sleep, my love.” You didn’t argue, just fell limp again into his arms. Matty smiled down at you as George breathed a sigh of relief.

“Shush,” Matty said to him.

“Me shush? You're the one who woke her up!” He whisper-shouted,

Matty shrugged and repeated. “Shush.”

“She’s been doing alright otherwise?” George asked, his pettiness now replaced by pure concern.

Matty smiled as he continued his mindless movements of rocking you back and forth, “As good as she can be. All things considered.”

George hummed. “...And you? You doing alright there ‘Dad’?’

Matty sighed as he looked between his best friend and his daughter, his shoulders falling slump. “...I don’t know. I just…Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine. Not because of everything that’s happened, but because she just seems…too good for me.”

As much as George wanted to make a joke and say something stupid like well, most women are, he didn’t. He stayed silent, only nodding his head to prompt Matty to continue. “She’s so mature. Well beyond her years, sometimes I think she’s more mature than me. She’s smart. Really really fucking smart, way smarter than me…sometimes I wonder how i’m supposed to help her…grow.” 

“I think you’ve done much more and much better than your giving yourself credit for.”

He sighed, “She’s already amazing. I don’t want to fuck her up. She too perfect.”

George nodded “Maybe that part she gets from Flo.”

Matty smiled, knowing he was right.

[danemia]

lemme rant rq cause this is my diary

so i went to the dr with my mom cause i had the flu (not anymore, but lowk it made me have 0 APPETITE so f@sting during it was easy) but anyway, since my last dr appointment which was over the summer ish so august i think, i lost around 7lbs. (i was wearing layers, water loaded + shoes so def more, probably around 10-15lbs but idrk cause my scale LOVES to change my weight all the time. and my mom ofc noticed (the weight loss in the chart since august) but i blamed it on the flu easy peasy and she’s been trying to buy me snacks and make me eat more which is annoying but she’s trying to be a mom so it’s okay. also im not sure if it’s the 3d brain but i feel like she’s trying to fatten me but i can’t really tell? like she’s offering food more, or maybe she’s not idk. it is now 1:44am, yesterday i fainted a bit so i treated it as a break and ate “normally” fainting + dizziness has gone down and now i feel like a failure, but that’s okay cause today is a new day. also does anyone else hallucinate after long periods of fasting? maybe it’s the sleep deprivation but i genuinely start seeing stuff and it’s lowk scary but maybe that’s another issue, anyway i won’t have access to food from now(1:44)-3pm so the i just have to survive from 3-10pm and that’s a successful day + thinking like that helps me sm (like every hour of fasting counts) right now im having a celsius (caffeine my beloved appetite suppressant) and im pulling an all nighter and hopefully will crash at 3ish so i sleep most of the day to prevent boredom eating and honestly fasting is just easy if you distract yourself, i think the main issue with me and fasting is i get bored sooooo easily and then eat, not even cause im hungry js bored tbh, but water and games help that. idek what im saying. ugh my insomnia gets so bad when im restricting. also another thing i think th1nspo and m3anspo genuinely do NOY work for me, idk why. like my main motivation is myself cause really im the only one who knows everything i want changed about my body and speaking of omg i have to go the beach on my birthday trip im so scared brooo. well idk if i have to go but i think my family is going and we’ll see tbh, it’s like mid decemeber so this month i genuinely need to lock in like i keep on fasting but then having to break it around 48hrs and it’s annoying, okay THIS fast i won’t stop (and will actually have vitamins and whatnot) also vitamin recs? i feel like the vitamins i take while fasting do not do anything tbh, anddd i have been rambling but it’s giving me smth to do so love u all stay safe ! ONE MORE THING LMAOO green tea is so good and has helped my bloating sm everyone go make a tea rn (it also has caffeine in it) also caffeine helps constipation (at least for me) for all the 4n4s who struggle with that! and green tea is like a subtle laxative, CELSIUS is like a full on one, i drank one a while ago but haven’t had any…bowel movement, but to be fair i did poop this evening and wow i sharing SO much information 😻 ! but yeah it’s way better than actual lax imo, lax makes my stomach hurt ALL day but maybe it’s the kind? I’ve only ever used ducloax or smth like that and it hurts so much omg i might just never take them again, im gonna finish this celsius then make some green tea i wonder how okay anyway

tldr: idek where to start

[rom-e-o]

Oof, our little conversation between the boys has got me considering things. Imagine Adonis and Connie double-dating with Bess before she and Wolf finally come together. I doubt it's every date, maybe mostly only on the ones where Bess is meeting with guys from dating apps (I doubt she had a very long stint trying those) or guys she's been set up with. If they don't meet the guy on the first date and he and Bess make it to the third and Bess is liking him, that's a double date, as she wants potential suitors to meet her friends fairly early. They are an important part of her life after, Connie especially. And usually the guy cuts things off quick after that for various reasons.

Just imagine Adonis watching all of these young guys flit in and out of Bess' sphere, most of whom she doesn't click with, the handful she does leaving her in the dust as fast as they came in. It reminds him a bit of Charlie when they grew up, actually. Then turning around and seeing Charlie and Bess together and him just trying his hardest not to wring his brother's neck for refusing to see what he so obviously sees. "These plonkers suck the life out of her and you give it back! And you still don't believe you're RIGHT for her?! You TIT!"

Okay, so ... I kind of ran with this idea. For 15 pages. I've been mulling this over for a long time. I ended up turning it into a little fic, with some additional help from the chatted conversations we talked about the Twins having, haha.

Adonis can see Bess serves better, and decides to take matters into his own hands. sometimes, you need the power of an outside perspective!

All's Well That Ends Well

“Yeah, um, this isn’t going to work, love.” Markus, age 31, at the jazz club.

“Have you thought about a push-up bra? You’d look bangin’ if you showed more skin!” Cesar, age 29, at the boat races.

“What chit doesn’t sleep with a guy on the first date nowadays? Prude.” Brandon, age 26, at the nightclub.

“Look, you’re nice, but … I just don’t think we’re clicking. I’m sorry. I-I don’t want to waste your time. Maybe I can … call you instead?” Ahmed, age 32, at the ice-skating rink.

Bess sighed. He’d never even asked for her phone number, but she let him go without argument. Truth be told, they didn’t have much in common anyway. He was a graphic designer with his eyes on his career. Plus, he had seemed more interested in casual banter than a seriously romantic relationship. A taciturn half-date was all it took to determine that.

“Sure,” she called back with a weak wave. “Be safe getting home.”

“You as well, Elizabeth.”

At least he was kind about it, she thought. That was way more than she could say for a lot of the others. I hope he finds someone he clicks with.

As Bess watched the tall, handsome man slowly skate toward the entrance of the outdoor ice rink, she reclined against the iron railing. Her body sank forward, heavy with disappointment in someone she didn’t even know. It made her feel … silly? No. Defeated? Yes, it felt much more accurate.

Hot tears burned her eyes, and she cursed herself for it. The last thing she wanted after another bad date was to cry in public about it.

“Bess?”

At the sound of her best friend’s inquiring voice, Bess lifted her head, the furred earmuffs jostling slightly atop her obsidian curls. She was met with the sight of Constance skating toward her, arms stuck out ahead of her and her fingers splayed. With her knees knocked inward and her ankles shaking more severely than windchimes in a thunderstorm, she looked completely helpless in a way that even her fashionable brown coat and pink cashmere dress couldn’t distract from.

“H-Help,” Constance squawked awkwardly, sailing forward at a snail’s pace.

The sight caused Bess to forget her tears and literally puff a cloud of laughter into the winter air.

“You’re looking a little lost out there.” She quickly yanked up the lapel of her powder blue coat and blotted a tear away. “Wasn’t it your idea to go skating?”

Constance laughed as she clamped onto Bess and held on. “I-It wasn’t my brightest, I’ll admit.”

The redhead then paused before glancing around, noticing the absence of company. Bess dreaded the inevitable question she knew her soul-sister wanted to ask, but it never came. Instead, she saw Connie looking out over the ice in mute understanding. That, for some reason, stung worse.

“He wasn’t into it,” Bess explained, answering the unspoken question, “And, to tell you the truth, I wasn’t either. We couldn’t find a single thing to talk about, Con.”

“I’m so sorry, Bess.”

“…Con, be honest, is something wrong with me?”

“No!” Her grip tightened as the word surged from her lips.

“You would tell me if there was, right?” Bess asked, the tears threatening to return. Her own legs began to tremble in her skates. “B-Because all these guys keep—”

“You’re putting yourself out there to a whole ocean of fish,” Constance reminded her softly, reaching up to help dab a warm tear away from her friend’s cheek.

“And I’m only attractive to the losers, I guess.”

“Oh, Bess—”

"Ladies?”

The deeper, London-accented voice interjected itself politely into the conversation. The inquiring voice belonged to Ebenezer Charles Scrooge (nicknamed “Adonis” by the lovestruck Connie), who had just successfully escaped from a young entrepreneur trying to use their chance meeting at the ice rink as a chance to pitch his extremely niche business idea.

Earlier in the evening, he’d been the one to serve as Constance’s lifeline on the ice so Bess and her date could have some time on the double-date to be alone and chat more. However, upon being dragged unwillingly into the earlier conversation, he’d turned around to find his girlfriend missing.

Seeing that she was clinging to Bess’ arm for stability, he initially felt relief, then was hit with a wave of uncertainty. He quickly noted that the young man that Bess had brough on their outing was nowhere to be seen. Not only that, but the ladies both wore twin masks of melancholy. That most certainly wasn’t promising.

“I say, is everything alright?” he asked again, more softly the second time.

Bess tried to nod with her usual spunkiness, but her misty eyes deceived nobody. His face fell at the obvious sadness in her eyes.

“Oh, my dear girl,” he started, but Bess shook her head quickly.

“No, no, no,” she said quickly, blinking her eyes rapidly in a desperate attempt to hide tears. “Please, don’t. It’s fine. I’m fine. I promise you. I-I was just telling Con. We weren’t really clicking, anyway.”

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, studying her expression. She didn’t seem fully well, he noted. Not as well, and definitely not as casual, as he was pretending to be. “I see.”

“Plus, he was nice about it. Way nicer than a lot of the other guys.”

She sniffled again, despite herself, and Connie’s reassuring grip tightened. “Oh, Bess … what can we do for you, dear?”

“Shall we hang up the skates and go for a stroll instead?” Ebenezer posed quickly. His skill of thinking on his feet in business negotiations occasionally came in handy in other areas of life. “You know, I have an idea! We passed Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland when the sun was still setting – I’m sure festivities are in full swing by now. I can hail us a cab, and we’ll be there in no time.”

“Ah, that sounds wonderful! Come, why don’t we—”

“No, please, you two are still on a date,” she reminded them, inhaling with a hiss. A date I’m probably ruining for you, she moped internally, knowing that vocalizing that statement would only make her feel even more sour. This wasn’t even the first time this had happened.

“Please, enjoy yourselves. Go, skate.”

Even if she was having a miserable time, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her best friend’s date with a man she genuinely seemed to like. Even better, he seemed to return those affections proudly and promptly.

She could never forgive herself if her own emotions even played a slight role in sabotaging anything.

“What about you?” Adonis asked in genuine concern. The prospect of leaving someone in a vulnerable state alone amidst a sea of people was unappealing, especially since she was becoming quite a close friend of his as well. He felt compassion and empathy for her.

After all … both he, and his twin brother, had been in similar situations.

She laughed, trying to make merry despite her resignation. “Dates are usually for two people, right?”

“Nonetheless—"

“I just … think I’d like a moment alone,” Bess finally admitted. “Just to think. Breathe.”

Constance tenderly laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. The look on her face must have been exceptionally dire because Bess snorted fondly at the sight. A spark of playful sass returned as she said, “Con, it’s okay. Thank you for worrying, really … but it’s just a bad date. There are worse things. I’m not gonna go rogue or jet off into the night, okay? I promise.”

The words were delivered with such poise that both were genuinely surprised when she gently unwound her arm from Constance’s embrace and quickly stepped onto the ice. With an artful strut, she set off across the silvery surface like a swan slipping onto a frozen lake, her curls spiraling behind her like inky ribbons. Flecks of ice danced off her heels, sending small puffs of glitter into the night air with each swish of her legs.

“Bess, please wait!” Constance wobbled toward the ice to give chase but was quickly rendered off-balance without anything to lean on. She flailed her arms briefly before Ebenezer swept in and caught her. One arm circled her waist while the other grabbed the railing for added stability.

“Are you alright, dear?” he asked, but she wasn’t listening.

She only stared ahead at the silvery trails that her friend had left behind.

Ebenezer followed her gaze, his mind pondering what to do. After a moment of searching the crowds, he set his jaw firmly, his intention hardened. He urged Constance upright and, still holding onto her, walked her over to a nearby bench located just at the edge of the rink.

“I’m going after Bess,” he said, his hand lofting from her waist to cup her cheek. “I’ll make sure she’s okay. If she really wants to be left alone, I’ll respect her wishes and won’t pressure her, but…”

But he couldn’t just let her go off alone and in such a state, especially if there was something he could do to help.

“I’m sorry to leave you,” he said.

“No, please do,” Constance said, leaning into his touch. “Please check on her. I think it might be helpful for you to talk to her. From your perspective as a gentleman, I mean.”

It was an inappropriate time to color from praise, but he allowed himself the brief indulgence. He nodded, and after one last plea for her to please not try to move, he stepped onto the ice and drifted to the other side of the rink.

All things considered, the outdoor rink was larger in size than one might expect.

Despite being in London’s financial district, which was notorious for hair-wide alleyways and tangled footpaths, a decent chunk of the normally busy roadway had been temporarily blocked off for the short-term installation. The outdoor space couldn’t hold a candle in size to large skate-ways or rinks like the ones at Canary Wharf or Kensington Palace, but it was a lovely novelty for the many wealthy individuals who worked or resided close to the district.

As other couples held hands and skated beneath the archways of twinkling holiday lights, Bess found herself skating to an alcove off to the side. The area was somewhat desolate, its ethereal tranquility only slightly marred by the encroaching shadows of the nearby skyscrapers.

In fact, other than the unavoidable urban sprawl around them, the city had done a good job at making the installation feel festive. Lit sculptures of angels and icy archways lined the perimeter, and the feathery layer of snow perfectly dusted the overhang of wreaths and giant jingle bells suspended above the ice. It was a scene all too befitting of a holiday greeting card.

The spectacle of it all reminded Bess of when she’d watched holidays special of skaters in mink coats and pristine white skates dancing on ice at Rockefeller Center in New York. The setting had looked so … unreal. Like it was a movie set, not a place where real people would skate.

However, she’d never skated at Rockefeller. No, her memories involved her father taking her to a frozen lake back in Ohio, where she remembered him lacing her tiny ice skates and her laughing until her lungs were sore from all their antics. George would keep her little hands warm by caging them in his, and they would spend the entire midday practicing twirls and swoops.

She’d taken to ice-skating somewhat naturally back then, and even on a rink of crowded people, she’d been able to bob and weave through them without issue. The movements brought her no joy, however. Skating wasn’t something she liked to do alone. It wasn’t any fun without a partner.

“Get a grip on yourself,” Bess mumbled under her breath, clutching her gloved hands into fists.

As if the scenario of crying in public wasn’t humiliating enough, she didn’t want to be seen crying in front of her best friend’s boyfriend.

Yet, it seemed fate had other things in store.

“E-Elizabeth!”

The call made her breath stall in her frosted lungs. She turned quickly, operating only on instinct. “W-Wo…?”

No, it wasn’t him. The voice belonged to Ebenezer, who was skating her way, his cheeks (and nose) red from the cold.

That was right, she thought. If it would have been Ebenezar Charles Scrooge (nicknamed “Wolf”), Ebenezer’s twin brother, he would have called her ‘Bess’ without a second thought. The two had met and fostered a strong friendship since Bess’ time in London. They were close, and good friends.

Very, very good friends.

…She’d been so excited at the prospect of it being him that she had thrown logic out the window.

“W-What are you doing?” she asked him. “W-Where is Connie?”

“Sitting down on a bench,” he said with a light laugh. He bent slightly at the waist to catch his breath. “Don’t worry, I did not leave her stranded on the ice.”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” she replied, arching an obsidian brow. “…Did you come to check on me?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, sinking against the railing. “Please. I told you already. I’ve already made a royal mess of way too many double-dates—”

“I don’t recall you making a royal mess of anything.”

“—And now I’ve pulled you away from your actual date to come and coddle me.”

“I’m not here to coddle you,” he said, drifting beside her and assuming a post at the railing beside her. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Bess glanced up at him, her gaze forlorn … but slightly curious, perhaps? Perhaps cautious was a better word. “Eliza—erm, Bess. Apologies. I … I don’t know you as well as my brother does, but I feel like you need to know something.”

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze slightly. “I, erm, don’t know much about courtship or dating, I suppose is what it’s called now. I only dated one woman in my twenties, and it didn’t end as I would have liked it to. Now, with Connie … I find myself remembering what it felt like to be in the company of an admired lady. The way I want to hold and conduct myself has changed greatly, and I want to make sure that she feels respected and happy.”

He swung his head toward her. “When I see a woman like you struggling to find a man that treats you how you deserve to be treated, it is beyond frustrating.”

“Frustrating?”

“Yes. You are the type of woman any half-decent man would love to have as a partner. To see all these immature louts with no positive qualities brush you off as if you’re a leftover cut from the butcher? It’s a disgrace.”

She blinked her eyes slowly. “Y-You don’t think I’m the problem? Really?”

“I know you’re not the problem,” he said, his tone adamant as granite. “My brother would agree heartily with that, just so you know.”

“Wolf would?” Bess asked, perking up a bit. Now she was curious, Adonis noted with amusement. Not that he was surprised. He could obviously see that she fancied him. Constance could as well. As could everyone else in their growing social network. The only thing more obvious than her adoration of him was the fact that he knew his twin brother absolutely pined over her in return, and had for many months.

Perhaps he could get two birds with one stone, he thought.

“You recall me mentioning that I didn’t have much experience at dating, yes?” he started. “Well, Charlie does have more experience. He’s had a few girlfriends, some more serious than the others.”

He treaded carefully, unsure how much Bess knew. There was only so much of his brother’s dirty laundry he felt comfortable airing. When she remained silent, he continued on.

“Well, there’s a reason for that. You see, he always puts his whole heart into each relationship. He wants true partnership, not a fling. Oh, he’ll blush and deny it all day long, but after decades of loneliness, he wants to find someone to settle down with. To love, and to marry.”

Bess’ heart leapt in her chest as the words resonated with her.

“With these other ladies, it was obvious to see their priorities laid elsewhere,” Adonis said. “Certainly not in romance. He would plan lovely dates tailored around the lady’s interests, he would buy gifts … he would lay his heart bare for each one of them … and I watched each one stomp all over it. They always cracked and admitted that it was for the money and would leave. A shameless lot.”

“Multiple women rejected him?” she asked, unable to make her disbelief. How was that possible? She knew he’d dated before – they were friends, after all, so she knew that much – but not that his struggles had been so relatable.

“Yes,” he replied, the word more or a sigh than spoken sentiment. “Every time he introduced me to a new date of his, I knew how it would end. On some level, I think he did too.”

“Then … why did he keep …?”

Adonis’ brow slacked, the wrinkles smoothing and his gaze dipping to the ground. In that moment, he looked almost forlorn. “Who wants to be alone forever?”

He watched as the woman across from him fell silent, angling her face just slightly away. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he saw her nod.

Just as words threatened to fail him, an idea sparked in his mind. Quickly, he turned in the dark to seek out a specific building tucked amongst the other financial high-rises and modern storefronts of London’s financial district.

As his eyes fell upon the set of tall windows belonging to S&C Financials, he saw that the lights in the office were all.

Specifically, the light in the room he knew to be his brother’s office was on. It glowed like a lighthouse beacon in a sea of otherwise black windows.

There was a certain someone that could lift her spirits more than he or Connie ever could.

“I’m sorry, but I have to step away for a moment,” he told her. His hand went to his coat pocket, as if he was fumbling for his phone. “A call, I’m afraid. I’ll be right back! Please stay on the rink, yes?”

Bess let him go with a wave, not paying his excuse much mind. After all, he’d given her many other fascinating points to mull over.

<><><> 

Wolf tapped away at his desktop keyboard with one hand while the other cradled his forehead, his fingers tapping an aggravated rhythm against his temple.

On the monitor was a long list of financial transactions that another London nonprofit had submitted for their review. They were having their expenses audited and had reached out to S&C Financials, who they saw as peers in a sea of red tape and building paperwork piles, for advice as budgeting for the next financial quarter quickly approached. It was a favor, through and through, and Wolf was now paying the price for kindness.

They posed the mystery that their donation withdrawal figures from their online accounts were vastly out of sync, but the accountant swore up and down the numbers from the reports were true. ‘I pulled right from a CSV report,’ they’d added, as if that would help.

For cash donations, yes, he’d been correct. The transfer rate was 100%.

However, for digital contributions, he hadn’t factored in service fees. Now, he was staring at a list of donations with 5% deductions, creating a different between the gross and net totals. The non-profit had submitted their figures based on the gross donation provided, before the deduction was ultimately process out of the overall donation cost.

Most charities enabled an automatic processing fee, similar to a tax, to be applied additionally at check-out as a loophole. This non-profit had not.

“How in the bloody hell did they make such an error?” he asked himself with a sigh. He reread the email and groaned, sitting upright. “Of all the—”

Beep, beep.

The sound of the office’s entry pad recognizing a valid I.D. snapped him out of his frustration. He blinked, checking the clock on his desktop to see if it could have been security making hourly rounds. No such luck – there were still thirty-six minutes left in the hour.

With that possibility null, he slowly craned his neck to peer out through his open office door. “Hello? Who is there?”

Footsteps approached his office, and for a second, he thought that perhaps one of the custodial staff members had entered the space. Yet, the footfalls sounded too awkward and fast. Was someone breaking in?

Just when he thought to maybe reach for a paperweight or letter-opener, a familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. It was his face, his figure, his appearance entirely, except for shorter hair.

Wolf heaved a heavy sigh of relief, sinking back into his editor’s chair. His blunt fingertips steepled in front of his face. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“You must have heard me key in,” Adonis said.

“You never come in on Saturdays anymore,” he argued. “Not since you and Constance started courting.”

“Aw, this that an admission that you miss me?”

“Hardly,��� Wolf replied sarcastically, his attention drifting back to the screen. His fingers began to type away at the keyboard again, the keys polished and dented from ample use over the years. “The last thing I need on top of our list of plentiful inquiries is you and our secretary canoodling outside my door.”

He chose to disregard that comment. “Ah, so you’re working.”

“I was, dear brother. Is there a reason you popped in?” Wolf paused his typing, then cocked his lead like a confused pup. “Gods, your nose is as red as a tomato. And … are those ice skates?”

“Yes, actually. From tonight’s double-date.”

“Ah, that’s right, Bess mentioned that,” he said, his demeanor shifting slightly as he spoke her name. “She said she was going one with someone. Never mentioned a name.” Or maybe she had, and he was too disappointed to remember.

“Yes.”

“But now you’re here.”

“Obviously,” Adonis replied, getting impatient. They didn't have infinite time.

“…Constance already dumped you, then?”

“No! She did not – ugh, no, but we did lose someone. Bess’ date. I don’t know the idiot’s name. Who even cares?”

“Wait, Bess’ date … left her?”

Without invitation, Adonis stepped inside and dropped the skates on the floor by the chair in front of the large desk. Small clumps of shaved ice flaked off on the rug, then melted instantly on contact. He sank into the chair, his heavy coat scrubbing against the leather backing, and sighed.

“Stop working and come to the ice rink.”

One of Wolf’s bushy brows lofted. “W-Whatever for?”

He knew what for, Adonis noted, patience waning. “For Bess.”

Realization sparked in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Charlie, the woman dashed away from Connie and I to be alone, and I found her trying to not cry on the other side of the rink, all alone,” he said. “She’s bloody devastated.”

The note of silence was also deafening. “She must have really liked him, I suppose.”

“Oh, you are a bloody MORON!”

“What do you want me to do?” Wolf asked, splaying his arms out. “I’m sorry Bess’ date left her.  The man is a moron! But my presence would not help her feel better, I’m sure. I’d muddy things up and make things even more miserable, I’m sure.”

“You obviously don’t know how much she cares for you.”

“There is nothing but friendship between us,” Wolf said, his eyes glinting like the twin edges of a sharpened knife. “Stop pressing it.”

“No, Charlie, and do you know why?” he asked. “Because I stopped pressing the issue with you, and look what happened. You went on date after date with these obvious harpies of women for years, and then took advantage of you and left you in the dust every time. I held my tongue for decades, and I’m sick of it. Especially since Bess is facing those same challenges, and she doesn’t deserve it either.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” he conceded. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Then go down there and be with her, Charlie!” he said. “You want to go, don’t you?”

Wolf looked away guiltily. His affection for Bess had been something he had pushed down for too many months to count. There were challenges, he’d always say, specifically regarding their age gap. She was a young and radiant woman, full of life and energy.

She deserved some young, handsome, lucky young man that could sweep her off her feet and give her all the romantic dreams she desired. She deserved to be courted with flowers and outings by a man who knew she loved roses and browsing local markets. A man who would indulge her love of thrifting and antiques. A man who would make her lunches on busy days at the hospital. A man who would have the courage to propose to her with the perfect engagement ring.

She deserved a man who would want a big family, and to move to the countryside with her for a quiet life with all the animals and pets she desired.

He knew all her romantic dreams and realized with a pang in his chest that he also might be the only man in the world that she had trusted them to.

“You know, it’s a wild concept, but if a girl makes you sight wistfully every time you think of her … you’re supposed to ask her out,” Adonis interjected. “Woo her, yes? You’re familiar with the concept?”

Returning to reality, Wolf flashed his brother another icy glare. “Sammy, if I were 20, 15, even 10 years younger, I would. But, you know as well as I do, youth is no longer on my side while Bess is brimming with it. She doesn't want an old duffer like me. She deserves someone closer to her age. An old, washed-up man like me is not the future a woman like her deserves.”

“Charlie, all these men Bess has been dating and given up on? They were all close to her age.” Adonis reminded him. “The man who walked away from her today looked to be in his thirties, and all the dates prior? Also, in their twenties and thirties. Age doesn’t seem to be a key factor here, Charlie.

“All the young men I've seen give her attention, she doesn't look at ANY of them the same way she looks at you!”

That sentiment gave Wolf pause, his eyes widening in genuine surprise for the first time during that discussion.

“These men,” Wolf started slowly, “She … really doesn’t seem interested? At all?”

“It’s like night and day,” Ebenezer huffed, leaning bag in the chair and crossing one long leg over the other. “These men, they act like boys. Ruffians, even! They’re crude and handsy, or completely ice her out when she tells them that she’s not interested in going straight to bed with them!”

The idea of some brutish stag trying to coax Bess into sleeping with him filled Ebenezar with a potent sense of disgust.  

All the while, his brother continued, “She kicks them to the curb, as she should, but  … she looks so bloody defeated each time. Like she feels like it her fault.”

“Feels like it’s her fault? H-How could…?”

“Bess is an amazing woman. You know that. She’s witty, charming, strong and incredibly beautiful. But she’s also sensitive. Caring. She constantly puts the needs of other people above her own, and she’s humble to a fault.”

Wolf smiled sadly, yet fondly. That was all true, he knew.

“She’s a whole, complex person, not an amusing, shiny trinket. None of these boys can appreciate her. None of them pull out her chair, make her laugh, roll their eyes at her puns, or even hold her hand. None except you.”

Wolf closed his eyes against the final statement, as if he anticipated the blow it would deal to his heart. None of the pain was cushioned.

In a flash, he bolted up from his chair and went to the office window. He peered out and looked down onto the street below, spotting the rink instantly even amidst the darkness and snowfall.

He spotted her instantly, standing alone amidst the other skaters. Her raven hair, her creamy skin, her effortless grace as she stood there on her skates in a sea of pearly white frost.

“…Stop getting my hopes up, alright?” he repeated, his breath fogging the glass from how close he was to the pane. “If she happens to have a … small flight of fancy for me, I’m sure it will pass when she finds a suitor more like her. Bess still has her whole life ahead of her, and I won’t ruin it by interjecting myself into her story.”

“Age isn’t the issue here, Charlie, it’s your stubbornness and self-sabotaging streak. You fancy her too. That’s why you seek her out. Do you really want your stubbornness to rob you of a chance at happiness?"

His fingers gripped the sill until his knuckles turned white.

"Charlie, Bess is different. The way she acts with you … it’s different from the others. She could be the one. You could be each other’s—”

“Even if she’s the one for me, I can’t be the one for her. I care more for Bess’ happiness than I ever could my own.”

“But do you care more for her happiness than your stubborn pride and need to be right?” Adonis asked. “Because the fact is, Charlie, in theory she could have any eligible man in the world, and that includes YOU. And what if YOU'RE the one who can make her happy? What if you're the key factor of her happiness?"

“…It can’t be me.”

“Why not?”

Because it's too good to be true. “It just can’t.”

“Okay, well, I used to think the same thing, and I was wrong. Bloody wrong, and Charlie, it felt amazing to be wrong about being unlovable.”

His brother’s targeted word pinned his body, and mind, to stillness. “... You actually think Bess could... love me?”

“Think it? I believe with every fiber of my being that she could love you. In fact, I believe she does. Deeply. A woman doesn't just learn how to make a man's favorite lunch the exact way he likes and bring it to him at his office if she's just a friend, Charlie. No matter how good of a friend she is. She doesn’t stay day and night with you when you're sick as a dog with the bronchitis taking care of you, risking her own health all the while, if she's just a friend.”

He remembered that. His memories were hazy from the fever, but he’d remember her gentle touch anywhere.

“Charlie, that girl is in love with you. Madly. And she’s right down there, waiting for someone. It should be you.”

Ebenezar continued to stare down at her, unable to look away. Was it really possible, in some wonderful twist of fate that his happiness and the happiness of someone he cared for so much could actually be intertwined?

He didn’t spare the time to think. Without even turning his computer off, he strutted out of his office and to the coat rack near the front door. He practically sent the pole to the floor as he ripped the coat off and threw it on, walking forward all the while.

He only stopped briefly at the stairwell to check that he had his wallet. Once he felt its outline, he pressed on.

After all, he’d need it for the skate rental.

Standing so still was starting to make her cold. Even her thick socks and tights couldn’t keep the chill out for much longer.

Bess glanced around again, checking to see if Adonis was on his way back to her. She couldn’t quite remember why he’d made such a swift exit. Admittedly, she’d been distracted at the time, but she wondered what could have pulled him away from not just her, but also Connie.

“Maybe I should go back to her,” she muttered to herself. “Keep her company, at least until Adonis comes back.”

Then, she could make her own graceful exit from the whole night. She could leave the happy couple to the remainder of date, sparing them any further awkwardness, while she called a cab and went back to the cottage. She could uncork a bottle of wine and soak in a bath. That sounded nice.

After checking the traffic around her, she pushed off the railing and skated into an opening between the other skaters. She sailed down with her head down, keeping pace with the others, her eyes upon the ice as cold air tossed her curls pleasantly.

Her posture did not allow her to see a familiar silhouette follow her onto the ice, then quickly catch up to her because of his long legs. It was only when she saw an unfamiliar shadow approaching that she looked up. Thinking she had accidentally drifted off course and into another skater, she was ready to apologize. Yet the words froze upon her lips like the snowflakes themselves when she felt the stranger slip their hand into hers.

Even in its leather glove, she knew that hand anywhere.

Wolf smiled as their eyes met, and he pulled her from the path of the other skaters and into the center of the rink. There, he led her into a playful spin, twin fingers twined as he lifted his arm and watched her pirouette slowly.

When she resumed her normal stance, she was breathless. And delighted.

“Wolf!” she cried, her smile wide and eyes alit with surprise. “H-How did …”

“I was working upstairs and saw you on the ice,” he said, almost sounding sheepish despite his easy smile. “I … don’t know if you’re still interested in skating. I know it’s getting quite late and chilly out, but—”

“I’d love to,” Bess interjected. She almost cursed her own eagerness, but his own matching grin wiped any doubt from her mind. “I didn’t know you could ice skate.”

“I’m only average,” he said, “Not nearly as skilled as you. It was quite tricky to reach you, you know.”

He chuckled and winked at her as they moved. Hands still clasped, he led the way, skating backwards while she did another playful spin. With their bodies coming together like two dancers in a ballroom, they waltzed upon the ice, their legs moving in perfect tandem. All the while, they talked easily.

“See? You are quite magnificent,” he said, pleased.

“Says the man who can skate backwards,” she noted, arching a brow at him suspiciously. “’Only average’ my butt, good sir.”

“Haha, I can be humble, I suppose.”

“Too humble for your own good, more like it.” She punctuated the sentence with a smirk, and she swore his cheeks turned a shade pinker. Perhaps it was just the cold.

As they danced, Bess chanced a glance over to the bench where she thought Connie might be seated. Her desire to check on her friend was still present, after all. Sure enough, she was there, but Adonis was now by her side. She couldn’t make out the words being exchanged, but Constance looked delighted.

She saw her jump up and pull Adonis into a tight embrace. The poor man had to grab the back of the bench in order to not fall over, but judging from the resonant laughter he let out, he didn’t mind the snafu.

By the time she pulled him into a deep kiss, she reckoned he’d forgotten all about it.

Glancing up at Wolf, she saw he was watching the couple as well. When they kissed, he rolled his eyes and refocused on her, shaking his head slightly.

“Ohhh, don’t be like that, they’re quite the pair,” Bess said. “Your brother is very sweet, by the way.”

“He has his moments,” Wolf admitted with a light laugh. “Do not tell him so. His head is already too full. He’ll start giving you brotherly advice.”

“Aw, come now. Would that be so bad?”

He hummed in thought and leaned in to push a loose curse away from her lovely eyes.

“…Well, I suppose not,” he relented easily.

She stared up at him inquisitively, curious about his sudden tone change. Her gaze held him captive, and hand lingered on her cheek a bit longer than needed. For that moment, the world stilled, and she felt happiness.

Immense happiness. With him.

“No matter,” he said, smiling down at her as he led her into another spirited twirl. “All’s well that ends well, as they say.”

As she stared up at his inspiring blue eyes, for the first time in a long time … she felt like perhaps that phrase could be true.

I had way, WAY too much fun writing this! thank you so much for the suggestion @quill-pen. Adonis is already accumulating hours at the "good brother-in-law" factory, haha. <3

[toxintouch]

Cooking headcannons for touchstarved Li’s when? 👀

Apparently now, anon! Some Cooking/Baking/General Meal Time headcanons. Sorry as always that I am so late, lol. I got distracted by Halloween/October things. ✦✦✦✦✦

Vere: ✦ Canonically, he’s bad at it. But W H Y?? ✦ When I thought about why Vere might be a bad cook I decided he is likely the kind to get distracted, try to make everything at once, get bored with the instructions, etc. It's not the kind of food he craves, so cooking is very low-stakes to him. ✦ I’m trying to decide if I think his sense of taste is remarkably different from a human. Since his nose is impeccable, he SHOULD be able to determine if something is going to be good or not… ✦ Perhaps the real issue standing in his way is: Human food does not satiate him.

✦ Though he does have human foods he likes to eat. He's a texture person.  Loves a delicate texture, easy to slice through with his fangs.  Something supple. ✦ When he gets the cooking urge, he cooks a ton of food at once. Absolutely no intention of eating most of it. ✦ MC: “Who is going to eat this?”   Vere: “I’ve been fairly blatant about my interest in doing so, but you are willfully obtuse.” ✦ If you'll allow me to quote myself:

"Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say: he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere." The journey is often the destination. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: (If he likes you:) "I suppose. If you think you have the stamina." If he doesn't like you it's still a yes but you're the meal. ✦ If you're helping him cook, BE CAREFUL WITH THE KNIFE!  If you nick yourself and draw blood...you might get more than you bargained for...

Leander: ✦ The fandom has spoken. This man can't cook. He's just...too innovative.~ He could follow a recipe. He won't...but he could. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He actually sounds awkward for a moment. “Ooohh, uh... you want to cook together?”  But he bounces back quickly.  “Of course we can do that! Sounds like fun. I’m sure our favorite barkeep won’t mind, we can use the kitchen here!”  (She minds.  She looks in on the two of you frequently to make sure you’re not going to burn the Wick down.) ✦ If you know your way around the kitchen already, he's happy to take a backseat. :) He measures out ingredients and has them all neatly ready for you. ✦ If you make him take the lead: Is that sweat sliding down the back of his neck? And his face is awfully red. "Ah, actually, I just thought of a better idea." How about the two of you rely on the expertise of your favorite cooks/bakers from around town for this one? Really immerse yourselves for a day (er, a few hours), learn from a professional. Who would you like to teach you? He can pull some strings and make it happen! :) :) :) ✦ ~Magical meal prep.~ He slices and dices with spell work. Like it's a party trick and not a potentially grisly weapon. Don't think too hard on the other potential applications of that spell, okay? :) ✦ Everything can be improved with cheese! (AKA: He puts cheese on top of everything.) ✦ He's unlikely to share this part of himself of his own accord, but... Naturally, he still knows all of his high society dining etiquette.  He can tell you all about place settings and the correct formal silverware order and how to tell which fork is the dessert fork, etc. Hopefully you'll never be put in a situation where that's knowledge that you need. He really doesn't want to subject you to that kind of person, if he can help it. Those people are closer to the Senobium and most would do anything for a favor. Best to stick to places where it's more safe. Right here next to him is free. ✦ He has a brilliant mind for what wines go with what foods. One of the few drink recommendations you can trust him on. "Of course, these are all just suggestions. What matters is that you're drinking what you like, right?" (<- He's trying to sell you on his new mixolology concoction. Do not trust.) ✦ Could hold a formal tea for you but you will really have to wheedle it out of him. And he'll only say yes if you agree that it stays between the two of you. "You have to pinky promise." ;) and it only counts if it's bare skin. ✦ That said, he's at his most comfortable when he's in some little hole-in-the-wall, enjoying great local food that someone else made. ✦ Extremely interested in any dishes you enjoy that are local to your home/culturally significant to you. Will hunt someone down who can make them for you if you're feeling homesick. (Or will find the ingredients if you prefer to make it yourself.) He's a good guy like that. :)

Kuras: ✦ He tries to make the recipe but he just makes things worse. Like many things in his long life. ✦ He's worse than Vere. A lot worse. 'Possibly the worst cook in the entire city' type worse. ✦ Cooking is just so outside of his realm of existence. ✦ It doesn't help that Everything tastes like p u r e n o t h i n g to him. It's not just that he doesn't need to eat, the very sensation of taste is beyond him. ✦ But he occasionally likes to try to make food for his friends and loved ones. He understands that food sharing is an important human social behavior and he'd like to participate how he can and show that he values his bonds with the people he chooses. ✦ He is uniquely awful at it though. Time has made very little improvement. ✦ Ever since that Valentine's Day cake, baking is his ✨passion.✨ Mhin had a good reaction, so he's decided not to give; he made such an obvious breakthrough with that one. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He accepts immediately. He's overjoyed. "I'm sure this will be an enlightening experience. I confess myself as rather lacking when it comes to this activity so please consider me your humble student. Anything you wish to teach me would be appreciated." ✦ Of course, the two of you will have to work around the clinic's schedule. (You ought to realize quickly that he does not have a good gauge of time when it comes to meals. Take the initiative or starve tbh.) ✦ He is very attentive to everything you say.  His earnest face while listening to you is unbearably adorable.  Frequently tilts his head like a cat. ✦ He hangs off your every word and even asks questions.  Though, some of the questions you don’t quite know how to answer.  (“When you chew, do you instinctively know how many times is appropriate, or must you count?”  “....I…what?”) ✦ You think that particular question might be a joke... Hard to say. ✦ Even when you are running the show and watching him to make sure he does everything right…every time something somehow ends up going wrong. ✦ Pro tip: don't let him put anything into the oven or determine the cooking/baking times. Otherwise, things will get...strange. ✦ You are the test subject–I mean: taste tester.  Kuras insists that your opinion is of the utmost importance.  Are you brave enough?  If not, are you tough enough to politely decline when his eyes are sparkling softly with affection and excitement like that??

Think of it this way:

If you get sick (which you will) you’re already at the doctor’s!  ✨Convenient!✨ ✦ Comfortable silence in the kitchen when they two of you are working together. <3 ...As soon as you accept that nothing will be edible. Actually, maybe you should stop this. This is probably more food waste than a post-apocalyptic world can afford.

Ais: ✦ Of course he knows how. ✦ Well.  Maybe not him specifically. But give him a moment, he’s pretty sure he’s got the equivalent of a Michelin 3 Star chef (or two, but who’s counting?) “in here somewhere.”  (He taps on his temple.) ✦ He doesn't have an interest in human food. "You want recommendations try asking Pretty Boy." ✦ He does like to experiment with making treats for his Soulless.  He’s bought them snacks from the market on occasion, but he likes the feeling of taking care of them and providing for them contributing with his own hands.  Plus, he can make them treats that are a lot less grain heavy.  They prefer meat.

✦ (Most aren't stupid enough to try and poison the treats he buys, but he did kill someone for trying once. Not that the shit they put inside was strong enough. He ate the stupid biscuit right in front of them just to prove a point. Last thing they ever saw.) ✦ If the Sea Spring has a kitchen…look, he hasn't been in there in a while. There might be mold.  There is almost certainly mold. ✦ Luckily, Kuras has a kitchen!  And he doesn’t seem to use it, so it’s basically free real estate.  If Ais is ever in need of somewhere to cook or bake, he’ll be using Kuras’ space. ✦ He can do meat preparation really well (he’s an absolute butcher with anything sharp) and smoke meat really well but spending an overabundance of his time preparing meals (meals that aren't even the preferred sustenance of Monsters like him) feels like a poor use of his life. He's got shit to do. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: "Huh... Nah. Don't think I will..." <- neutral bastard “Or what?” <- He feels like riling you up a little extra today. ✦ (You're more likely to get that experience if you catch him doing it of his own accord and join in/keeping him company in the clinic while he works.)

Mhin: ✦ Diametrically opposed to Leander (and Vere), they will follow the recipe exactly whenever possible. ✦ The only one you can trust to make something edible without fail. ✦ Mhin is an alchemist.  Cooking and baking are both easy for them.  None of these components are even going to explode or create poisonous gas if mixed.  The worst thing that will happen is that they’ll eat a meal they aren’t completely satisfied with.  (And honestly, what else is new these days?) ✦ They are impressively quick and precise in the kitchen!  They can cut things so fast! Can also cut fruit into animal shapes for reasons that they will not explain. ✦ When they cook, they are making meals to feed themself.  It’s a necessity that they are performing to keep themself able to tolerate their strenuous life. At the same time, it relaxes them to an extent–it grounds them, it’s something concrete to focus on that isn’t … –but it’s a necessity first and foremost. ✦ Mhin’s cooking has a tendency to be b l a n d.  They are filled with too much self-loathing to season more interested in the nutritional value of the meal than its flavor.  Plus, spices are costly and they aren’t about to spend any of their hard earned money on the luxury of taste. ✦ Mhin’s baking is significantly more inspired than their cooking.  If they have the good fortune and the wherewithal to bake themself a little treat, they have a good intuition for (delicate, sweet) flavors.  They never get the opportunity, but.  The ability is there. ✦ In another life (an easier life) baking could have been a hobby. ✦ You ask them to cook or bake with you?: "..." Mhin isn’t the type to teach someone, but… If you're any good, you could be a useful second pair of hands. If you're hopeless...they should really leave you to your own devices, but… someone needs to tell you to stop holding a knife like that. It's annoying to look at. It will just take them a few seconds to correct you. And then you're on your own! (They still stay. They were using Kuras' kitchen first.) ✦ Will scold you for holding the knife wrong.  Tries to explain the correct way–which is to say, the safest way–to handle it but...  They’re not used to having to verbalize their thoughts/instructions to people, since they are always alone. ✦ So they'll finally just settle in behind you and show you how to position your hands and cut away from yourself. ✦ Backs off ASAP because being able to feel your body heat and being so close to you flusters them.  (Not to mention whatever is happening with your hands.) They go off into their own little corner to meal prep extra because they want to be prepared–definitely not so that they can look away from you and focus on something else for a while. ✦ Mhin can tell you about the chemical reaction that makes bread rise.  Mhin can tell you why and how each ingredient is important, which ones you can skip and substitute if supplies in this post Fogfall world are running low.  Mhin can tell you that you are not doing that right, what are you doing?  Stop.  That is way too much vanilla extract. ✦ If you ever reach their maximum affection level: Their face looks like it is absolutely on fire when they offer to share their favorite dessert this dessert they’ve really been craving with you.  They’ll even teach you how to make it, and you two could make it together if you'd like...

[myballsitchaurghouchie]

If you fart in his realm do you think it has a reverb to it

Lyrics from Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco

[Image Description in Alt Text and under the cut]

ID: A digital drawing of The One Who Waits from the video game Cult Of The Lamb. He is shown rising from the bottom with his hand extended towards the Red Crown which floats at the center top of the image. Throughout the drawing is text saying "The crown so close I can taste it". The One Who Waits has shackles around his wrists and various chains coming from him, as well as one chain attached to his throat. They are all covered in black ichor. His robes are flowing to the bottom in a way that fills the space, and they have red and golden accents. There is also ichor on his clothes and wrists, mainly around where the shackles lay. The background is the same red as The One Who Waits's eyes, and it fades slightly into a white at the top.

[ciderjacks]

argh. This comic writing is taking me way longer than usual. I keep editing things and it doesn’t feel right.

[theworldisabrokenbonebutitishome]

Kang Yo Han is the walking embodiment of I'm Not Okay (I Promise) and relates to Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge far more than is healthy. In this essay I will-

[zannolin]

(re-ish)watching ncis in 2023 is like came for the murder and crime solving, stayed for the absolutely unhinged tiva plotline

[ruvviks]

made the realization my vampire story would work best as a video game and now i can't stop thinking about it

[serendipitous-mage]

......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier

[gibbearish]

also is the thing with the box ever. explained?