#Best chilly powder | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just1cefor4ll · 2 months ago

Text

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

-modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, swearing, might be OOC

part one || part two

‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️

'Taste me, you will see

'More is all you need..'

You were an art major with dreams of becoming a performer—a passion that stuck to you during your high school years. It wasn’t always a dream of yours; as a child, you’d imagined yourself as a ballerina or a doctor saving hundreds of lives but everything changed when the gates of high school and teenage drama opened up to you.

In your sophomore year, you and a few friends stumbled upon a shared love for music and decided to form a small rock band. Powder, your best friend, took the lead as the singer. Her stepsister, Isha, played the drums, while Ekko, Powder’s boyfriend, handled the bass. You took on guitar duties and backup vocals. The band quickly became a big part of your lives, and you weren’t half bad.

By the time you all made it to college—except Isha, who was in her senior year of high school—you were performing at local bars and small venues. The gigs didn’t pay much, but they weren’t a loss either, and your parents were proud of your dedication.

You got more of a recognition when the principal assigned you and the band to play some of your own songs or whatever covers you deemed fit for the occasion and even got an award which earned you the title of the ‘schools rock stars’ by most of the people who attended that day and it quickly spread and stuck until graduation.

The journey, however, wasn’t always just rainbows and sunshine. Learning guitar and perfecting your singing skills took patience, and there were moments of frustration.

Your forgetfulness and stupidity often kicked you right in the ass—or well, fingers— having to buy a new guitar pick every few days leaving your fingers bloody and sore. On a particular night performing at the Last Drop your guitar was left bloodied after you thought it would be an absolutely genius idea to play Metallicas ‘Master of Puppets’ which luckily went great! The crowd went wild however it did earn you quite a scolding from Vander as he carefully put band aids on each of your fingers. However he could tell by the proud look on your face that you thought it was worth it, people coming up to cogratulate you on your performance, suggesting songs or giving you sweets they bought as a sort of reward and all Vander could really do was laugh at his daughter’s best friends foolishness.

While you immersed yourself in music, Viktor—a double major in physics and engineering—navigated a completely different world. His close circle of friends—Vi, Powder’s older sister; Jayce, Mel and Caitlyn, Vi’s girlfriend—shared little in common with your bandmates, yet you crossed paths by chance from time to time. Viktor knew of you mostly through Vi and Jayce’s stories or from the few times he happened to see your band perform.

One such instance was prom, where he watched you take the stage with confidence. Another was a night at The Last Drop, where Viktor had ended up by chance when Vi dragged the group into the establishment for a few drinks.

Today the bar was as lively as ever. The dimly lit bar was packed, and the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the air before the first note was played. “Are you ready?” You half screamed into the mic as a roar of cheers and claps bounced through the walls. You strummed your fingers along the strings of your guitar, gifted to you not long ago by your friends since your old one was pretty wrecked however it still had it’s place and on display in your bedroom as a symbol of where you first started while Isha got into the beat of ‘Can’t stop’ by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

You saw a few faces light up but most didn’t quiet recognize the song but still looked like they were enjoying themselves as the chatter slowly died down, all eyes and ears on your performance.

Viktor sat in the corner with Vi, Jayce, and Caitlyn, his attention flitting between their conversation and the band on stage. He wasn’t one for loud, crowded places, but something about your music intrigued him. He knew of the rock genre because of Jayce being quite a fan of System of a Down and many other bands he would need a whole notebook to name however Vi had a big part of the introduction herself but he adjusted to the change of genre he wasn’t quiet familiar with before he met his dear friends.

There was a passion in your performance that resonated with him, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

After the set, you stepped off the stage, sweaty and exhilarated. Powder gave you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with pride. “Killed it as always,” she said with a grin.

“Thanks, Pow,” you replied, wiping your brow. Your gaze swept across the room, catching sight of a group you vaguely recognized—Vi’s crew. As if on queue Vi averted her gaze from the group and caught your attention, waving you over, and though you hesitated for a moment before you all made your way to their table. “Hey, Rockstar!” Vi greeted, giving you a playful smirk. “Nice set tonight. You finally learned how to tune that thing, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at her teasing. “Thanks, Vi. You still can’t keep a beat, though, can you?”

The group laughed, and you found yourself pulled into their orbit. Introductions were made, though most were unnecessary—you already knew who they were. When it came to Viktor, however, there was an awkward pause.

“Viktor,” he said, offering a polite nod. You smiled and gave your name in response and decide to strike up a conversation with the man. “Thanks for sticking around! You don’t seem like the type for these kinds of outings.” You say truthfully and chuckle nervously.

“It was... impressive,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet but sincere. “You’d be correct on that last part. I don’t often attend these kinds of events, but your performance was captivating.” His accent was foreign to you yet it was a cute quality, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. The compliment however caught you off guard. You weren’t used to that kind of earnest praise, especially from someone who seemed like they’d be more of the jazz or pop type. “Thanks,” you said, a bit bashfully. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

The conversation shifted back to the group, but Viktor’s words lingered in your mind. Something about his quiet demeanor fascinated you, and you couldn’t help but want to know more about this mystery of a man.

That night when you all went your seperate ways once you got to the college dorms, Powder noticed how lost in thought you were; basically just lying on the bed and looking at nothing. “Okay, what’s with your teen spirit Cobain?” She chuckles at her own joke and you look at her with a ‘really?’ face, letting out a giggle of your own. “So many other jokes out there and that’s what you come up with?” You push her shoulder playfully and sit up from your bed, facing her. “Okay, okay.. enough shaming my stand up comedy, what’s wrong Y/N?”

“That Viktor guy from your sister’s group.. with the accent and shit?” You start as a smirk sneaked onto her lips, kicking her feet in the air as she lied on her stomach. “Yeaah?” “Well I don’t know, something about me just.. makes me want to get to know him you know?” You sigh, throwing yourself onto Powders bed, lying on her stomach. “He’s such a nerd though! From what Vi told me over the phone a few times he’s like a workaholic but ten times worse girl. And he looks like he has a couple conditions.. probably should get that checked.” She mumbled to herself, making you giggle. “Come on Pow that’s just straight up mean.”

“But look who’s giggling.” She flicks the side of your head and joins in on your laughter.

You remember the cane he had, the golden details and carvings and the way his under eyes were darker then the rest of his pale, almost sickly skin. His jawline was sharp with a straight nose and an almost unnoticeable underbite. He was pretty cute.. He was probably a cool person to be around so you wondered if you’d have the chance to maybe hang out with him.

“Do you think your sister would be up to hanging out? You know, our group and hers? We have that show next weekend we can invite them there and spend the rest of the night doing whatever!” You suggest and quickly get a nod of approval from your blue haired friend which only made your excitement rise.

Next weekend it is.. Maybe he’d be up to a one on one hangout once you have the chance to ask, maybe even over the phone if you’re lucky enough to get his number or socials. Until next weekend all you could do was practice and imagine every sort of scenario of how it would all go.

taglist: let me know if you want to be added

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

#ᯓ★ urfavlarry #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane season one #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #viktor fanfic #viktor lol #viktor nation

178 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating.

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it.

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle.

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump.

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do.

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms.

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you.

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed.

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...” he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.”

You chew your lip, “yeah...”

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones.

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.”

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.”

“Arvin, I told ya--”

“I got lots,” he insists.

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest.

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.”

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?”

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.”

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.”

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.”

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.”

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say.

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.”

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.”

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly.

“What?”

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin’ it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.”

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you.

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.”

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears.

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?”

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say.

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you.

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone.

💝

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart.

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it.

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days.

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver.

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?”

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.”

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?”

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel.

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.”

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously.

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure.

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?”

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug.

“It’s...”

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.”

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.”

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.”

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.”

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.”

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?”

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress.

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.”

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.”

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it.

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.”

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips.

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again.

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that.

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out.

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds.

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.”

“Mine?”

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.”

“Pack...” you wonder.

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?”

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time.

“Oh...” you murmur.

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.”

“Alright, I’ll be fast.”

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much.

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight.

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you.

“Do I get a hint?” You ask.

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.”

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape.

You gasp, “Arvin?”

“Surprise,” he exclaims.

“What...”

“My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims.

“Workin’ on it?”

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.”

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--”

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.”

You shrink down. He’s right.

“But I’m not--”

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.”

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem.

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard.

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps.

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.”

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.”

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over.

“Oh?” He echoes.

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door.

“But...” you choke on your words.

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room.

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures.

You shake your head, “it’s too much.”

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?”

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--”

“I wanna.”

“But--”

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--”

“Next one?”

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach.

“I...” your heart sinks from on high.

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes.

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.”

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow.

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.”

#arvin russell #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #arving russell x reader #the devil all the time #fic #december daze #navy and roo's sleepover #dark fic #dark!fic

190 notes · View notes

scarluna · 2 months ago

Text

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 6 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers, love triangle

ACT VI.

The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks as I stepped out of my apartment building, my scarf wrapped snugly around my neck. It was a lazy Sunday, the kind of day where I would’ve normally curled up with a book or caught up on my favorite shows. But today was different. Today, Taehyung had insisted we spend the day together—no work, no drama, just us.

As I adjusted my coat, making sure not to freeze despite the sun outside, I saw him across the street, standing next to a streetlamp. He looked effortlessly handsome in a cream-colored sweater under a beige trench coat, his dark hair slightly tousled by the breeze. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and pink tulips, delicate and cheerful.

“For you,” he said as I approached, holding the bouquet out with a boyish grin.

“Flowers?” I teased, taking them gently. “Are you trying to win me over?”

He smirked. “Maybe. Is it working?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s a good start.”

We began walking down the quiet street, the crunch of our shoes against the pavement mingling with the sounds of the city waking up. A few blocks away, we found our favorite little café, the one with the cozy atmosphere and the best hot chocolate in town.

Taehyung held the door open for me, and we were greeted by the familiar scent of cocoa and cinnamon. The café was warm, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside.

“Two hot chocolates?” the barista asked with a knowing smile as we approached the counter.

“You know us too well,” Taehyung replied with a soft chuckle. We have been visiting this coffee shop back when we were only college students. This place held memories of us. And I cherished it a lot.

Once our drinks were ready—complete with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cocoa powder—we found a corner booth by the window. The steam from the mugs curled into the air as we sat across from each other, the sunlight streaming in and casting a golden glow over his face.

“So,” he began, his tone playful. “What’s on your mind, Miss Y/N? Besides how devastatingly handsome I am.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my hot chocolate to hide my smile. “I was actually thinking about how certain someone managed to spill wine on my dress last night.”

His expression softened, the teasing replaced by genuine concern. “You handled that so well. I would’ve lost my cool.”

“Well,” I said, swirling my spoon in the whipped cream, “I guess I’ve had enough practice dealing with people like Tina.”

He reached across the table, resting his hand over mine. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are more badass than you think.”

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate ever could. "I honestly don't know what I will do without you, Tae. I am grateful to have you in my life." I spoke out, it was the truth, I never expressed my gratefulness but now I did. I wanted him to know that I cherished him. Tae's cheeks flushed. "I will always be here, Y/N. No matter what." My heart skept a beat. I grinned at him and brough the glass toward my lips as if to hide my blush. "So, what's the deal with your Boss tho?There seems to be tension between him and you. I didn't like how he stole you away from me last night..." I froze. My smile faltered and I cleared my throat. "He is just . . . a bit controlling, that's all." "Controlling? He is possessive of you, Y/N. His eyes are feral when he is around you." My frown deepened and I shook my head. "That's not true. I mean, he did made fun of me and my way of work but that's all. He thrives for perfection." Tae's eyes darkened, he stared at me for a minute longer, before a deep sigh escaped his lips. "I just want you to be self-aware of your surroundings, Y/N." Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too caught up between him and Yoongi to even notice what was happening. I couldn't keep this up. My feelings didn't matter, all that matters is my job and how I do it. An awkward silence stretched between me and Taehyung. We were both lost in thoughts now. Gosh, he shouldn't have mentioned Jungkook. Because with Jungkook there is also Yoongi.

After we finished our drinks, we spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. Taehyung led me to a park we used to visit back when we were teenagers. The trees were bare, their branches dusted with the season’s first frost, but the air was alive with laughter from families and couples enjoying the day.

We stopped by the frozen pond, watching as kids skated in clumsy circles. Taehyung nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“Remember the time I tried to teach you how to skate?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t remind me. I think I fell a dozen times..”

“And I caught you every single time,” he added, a proud smile on his face. He was the cutest with how he smiled, it was like stars appeared in his eyes everytime he did.

We walked on, stopping occasionally to take in the sights or to snap a picture. At one point, we found a street musician playing a soulful tune on his guitar. Taehyung pulled me to the side, bowing dramatically.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice dripping with charm.

“Here? In the middle of the park?” I asked, laughing nervously.

“Why not?” He took my hand before I could protest, spinning me gently in a slow circle.

People passed by, some smiling at the sight of us, but I didn’t care. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of us.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Taehyung wrapped his scarf around my neck, ignoring my protests that I was fine.

“I don’t want you catching a cold,” he said, tucking the ends neatly under my coat.

“Thanks, Dad,” I teased, but the truth was, I didn’t mind. He was caring by nature, and maybe to be cared for felt good...

As the day came to an end, I realized how much I needed this. No work, no stress, no complicated feelings about Yoongi or Jungkook—just a simple, perfect day with Taehyung..

“Still cold?” he asked, noticing my movements.

“Not really,” I admitted. “This scarf is ridiculously warm.”

He smiled, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “It’s because it’s mine. Everything I own is top-tier.”

I nudged him with my elbow, grinning. “Oh, please. That’s the most Taehyung thing you’ve said all day.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy, and I couldn’t help but smile wider. There was something about him—his energy, his warmth—that made everything feel okay, even after the chaos of last night.

As we turned the corner onto my street, he slowed his pace.

“You know,” he began, his tone softer now, “I really enjoyed today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so relaxed.”

“I guess I needed it,” I replied, glancing up at him. “Just a perfect day with an old friend.”

“Old friend?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m as youthful as ever. If anything, I’ve only gotten better with age.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I didn’t respond, but the way my cheeks warmed betrayed me.

When we reached my building, we stopped just outside the entrance. The soft hum of the city buzzed in the background as we turned to face each other.

“Well,” I said, clutching the bouquet of flowers he’d given me earlier, “thanks for today. Really.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice gentle. “I mean it. If you ever need to escape, just call me. I’ll be there.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The streetlight above cast a faint glow on his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re a good friend, Tae,” I said softly, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, his expression warm and playful again. “Only a good friend? I’ll have to work on upgrading that title.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Goodnight, Taehyung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something unspoken.

I turned to unlock the door to my building, but before I could step inside, I heard him call my name.

I turned back, and there he was, standing a few feet away, his hands still in his pockets. “Don’t forget to put those flowers in water,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.

“I won’t,” I promised, holding up the bouquet.

And with that, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the quiet night. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, the warmth from the day still lingering in my chest.

As I finally stepped inside, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Today had been perfect—simple, sweet, and exactly what I needed.

The scene outside the company building was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Reporters shouted over each other, their cameras flashing relentlessly as they aimed toward the entrance. Police cars were parked haphazardly along the curb, their lights casting ominous blue and red hues against the surrounding buildings.

My heart sank as I tried to push through the crowd, clutching my bag tightly. The questions flying through the air were disjointed but enough to spark unease in my chest.

“Is it true Jeon Enterprises is under investigation?” “CEO Jeon Jungkook has yet to make a statement—”"Is there a suspect already?"

I forced myself to block out the noise, stepping up to the security guard at the entrance. My heart was thumping fast and loud in my chest. This entire atmosphere looked like a crime series. I had no idea what happened but whatever it was, it was serious.

“I work here,” I said, fumbling with my badge. My hands shook slightly, and I hated how obvious it was.

The tall bulky guard dressed in a black suit squinted at my badge, then gave me a short nod. “Go ahead.”

His words did nothing to calm me as I entered the building, the usual hum of productivity replaced by frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. Police officers roamed the lobby, speaking into radios, while employees stood in clusters, their faces pale with shock.

What on earth happened?

I hurried toward the elevator, my pulse quickening with every step. The ride up to our floor felt like an eternity, and when the doors opened, the sight made my stomach churn.

Officers were everywhere, combing through desks and confiscating files. The normally pristine office space was in disarray, papers scattered and voices raised in hushed tones.

“Y/N!”

I turned to see Rya approaching me, her expression frantic. I could see the paleness on her face, she was definitely shocked and panicked.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rya glanced around before pulling me aside, her grip on my arm tight. “Tina... she��s dead.”

I froze, her words not registering at first. “What?”

“They found her body last night at her apartment,” Rya said, her voice shaking. “And the last person who was seen with her was Jungkook. Police came and took him with them twenty minutes ago. They treated him like a suspect!”

The air seemed to leave my lungs. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what she was saying. Tina? Dead? And Jungkook?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jungkook wouldn’t—”

“I know,” Rya interrupted, her voice urgent. “But the police don’t care about what we think. And the media is having a field day with it. They are also got a search order to see if they can find any clue on what happened, Jungkook's office is a raided mess. Cops took everything.”

I glanced around the chaotic office, my chest tightening. Jungkook wasn’t just my boss; he was someone I had come to respect despite our rocky start. The idea that he could be involved in something like this was incomprehensible.

Rya’s hand hovered over the remote as the reporter’s voice filled the tense air of the office.

“Breaking news this morning,” the reporter began, her tone grave. “Authorities have confirmed the discovery of a deceased individual late last night at their apartment. The victim has been identified as an employee of Jeon Enterprises and was last seen attending the high-profile masquerade ball hosted by MNT Media just days ago.”

Rya and I exchanged a glance, our breaths caught in the shared silence. The weight of the words was crushing, and my mind raced to process what I already knew.

“Last seen at the ball...” Rya whispered, her voice barely audible, but I caught the way her hands trembled as she gripped the remote.

I swallowed hard, fighting the knot forming in my throat.

The broadcast continued, showing images of the ball—the glittering chandeliers, the elegant gowns, the masked faces. And then it switched to a live shot of an apartment building cordoned off with police tape, officers moving in and out under the glow of harsh floodlights.

“Sources close to the investigation report signs of foul play, though no official suspects have been named. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Enterprises, has been confirmed to have been the last one who saw the victim alive, and authorities have expressed interest in speaking with him.”

“Damn it,” Rya muttered, her voice cracking slightly.

I didn’t answer, the words sticking to the back of my throat. We both knew it was. There was no need to say it out loud.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on the screen, where the reporter was now recounting snippets. “The victim was known to be a driven and outspoken employee, with significant professional ties and ongoing disputes that may have played a role in the events leading up to their death.”

"Y/N... this is bad. Really bad. The board is already panicking, and if this gets any worse, it could take down the entire company.”

I felt like the floor was tilting beneath me, the weight of the situation pressing down on my shoulders.

“I need to find Yoongi,” I muttered, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Yoongi?” Rya frowned.

“He’ll know what to do,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “He always does.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned and started toward his office, my mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and determination. Whatever was happening, I needed answers—and fast.

His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. “I don’t care what strings you have to pull—just do it.”

He ended the call abruptly, exhaling sharply before he turned, noticing me standing hesitantly behind him. His expression softened slightly, though the strain in his features remained.

“It’s a mess,” he admitted, his tone heavy. “As you already know, Tina was found in her apartment late last night. She has been shot in the head.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words sinking in. Shot in the head? What kind of an animal would do that to her?! Surely, Tina was not one of the best people, she was selfish and her ego reached the skies, but not even once did I wish her death. “And Jungkook? Why are they linking him to this?”

Yoongi’s gaze flicked to the side, conflicted. “He was seen leaving her building around the time they estimate it happened. There’s footage from a security camera, but it doesn’t show much. Just him walking out.”

“That doesn’t mean he did anything,” I said quickly, feeling a surge of defensiveness I didn’t expect.

“I know,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “But right now, appearances are everything. The media doesn’t care about proof—they just want a story. And Tina being...” He hesitated, his expression darkening. “Well, let’s just say she didn’t make herself any friends around here. People are talking, and not in Jungkook’s favor.”

I was trying to process everything. Tina’s death. Jungkook being questioned. The chaos in the office. It felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.

“Do you think he did it?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer.

Yoongi met my gaze, his dark eyes steady. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve known Jungkook long enough to say that he’s not capable of something like this. But whether he did or didn’t isn’t the issue right now. It’s about what people believe.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest.

“What do we do?” I asked, desperate for some kind of direction.

Yoongi sighed, “For now, we wait. The lawyers are working on getting him released, but until then, we need to keep things from spiraling. The company is already under enough scrutiny.”

I nodded, though it felt like a hollow gesture. Waiting wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially not when someone I cared about was at the center of it all.

“What about us?” I asked hesitantly. “What can I do to help?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight he carried seemed to lift just slightly.

“Just stay out of the crossfire, Y/N,” he said gently. “You’ve already been through enough. Let me handle this.”

I bristled slightly at his words, not because I didn’t appreciate his concern, but because I hated feeling powerless.

“Yoongi,” I said firmly, standing. “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while everything falls apart. If there’s anything I can do—anything—just tell me.”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded.

After leaving Yoongi’s office, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on me. Tina’s death had sent shockwaves through the entire company, and though I’d never liked her—she’d been awful to me more times than I could count—this wasn’t what she deserved.

The thought of her lifeless and alone in her apartment was too much. No matter how cruel she’d been, she was still a person, someone with her own struggles and stories I’d never known. She was still someone's daughter, sister, cousin. . .

I needed to talk to someone.

I found Hoseok and Rya in the break room, sitting at one of the tables near the window. Both of them looked tense, their earlier easy smiles replaced with furrowed brows and quiet whispers.

“Hey,” I said softly as I approached. They looked up, and Rya immediately slid over to make room for me.

“Y/N,” Hoseok said, his tone heavy. “How are you holding up?”

I sat down, clasping my hands together to stop them from trembling. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “This whole thing with Tina... it doesn’t feel real. I know we didn’t get along, but...” I trailed off, unsure how to put the jumble of emotions into words.

“She was a nightmare,” Rya said bluntly, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “But I never thought... this. I mean, she could be petty and cruel, but murder?”

Hoseok frowned, leaning forward. “Nobody deserves that,” he said quietly. “Not even Tina. She could be terrible, sure, but she was still a person.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the three of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I keep thinking about the last time I saw her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the ball. She seemed so... smug. Like she was on top of the world. And now, she’s gone.”

Rya crossed her arms, looking conflicted. “Do you think someone here could’ve done it? I mean, everyone knew she had enemies, but this is... extreme.”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it, but with the police here, searching the office...” He trailed off, his expression darkening. “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“And Jungkook?” Rya asked, looking at me. “Do you think he’s involved?”

“No,” I said firmly, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice. “I don’t. He might be cold and distant sometimes, but he’s not a killer. He’s... he’s better than that.”

Hoseok and Rya exchanged a glance, but neither argued.

“What happens now?” Rya asked after a moment. “If Jungkook is being investigated, what does that mean for the company? For us?”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle over me again. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think we need to stick together. Now more than ever.”

They both nodded, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of solidarity between us.

As the three of us sat there, piecing together what little we knew, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something much bigger—and much darker—than any of us could imagine.

The morning was gray and oppressive, the atmosphere at Jeon Enterprises thick with unease. I was called to help clear out Tina’s desk under police supervision, a task I didn’t relish but couldn’t refuse. The sight of her empty chair sent a chill through me. Tina had been vile, no doubt about it, but to think she was gone—and in such a horrific way—made my stomach turn.

The desk was surprisingly tidy for someone as chaotic as Tina. Neat stacks of papers, pristine stationery, and a drawer full of color-coded folders. Yet as I sifted through the surface level, something felt off. It was too perfect, almost staged.

A detective stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed. “Anything that seems unusual, set it aside,” he said flatly.

Unusual? Where did I even start? Tina herself was a cocktail of ambition and cruelty, a persona that could fill a thousand file folders with secrets. As I reached into the bottom drawer, my fingers brushed against something that didn’t feel like an office supply. It was wedged under a stack of legal pads—a worn, leather-bound journal.

I glanced at the detective, who was momentarily distracted by another officer. With a quick, furtive motion, I slipped the journal into my bag. I told myself I’d hand it over eventually, but something about it called to me. A gut feeling. Tina had gone out of her way to hide this. Why?

Once I got home that evening, I pulled the journal out and set it on my kitchen table. The leather was cracked and faded, the corners worn down like it had been carried around for years. When I opened it, the faint scent of Tina’s signature perfume wafted up, mingled with something darker—ink and secrecy.

The first few pages were mundane. Meeting notes, to-do lists, sketches of presentation layouts. But as I flipped further, the tone shifted. The handwriting became erratic, the words slanting across the page with a kind of manic energy.

November 3: Another meeting with K. Promises, promises. Does he think I’m stupid? I’ll take what’s mine before he screws me over.

November 12: Y/N is such a naive little thing. Too easy to push around. If only she knew how far out of her depth she is. Pathetic.

I recoiled at the venom in her words. My name was scrawled there like a curse, surrounded by complaints about nearly everyone in the office. Tina hadn’t just disliked people—she’d despised them.

And then there were the cryptic entries:

December 1: The deal is in place. If K tries to back out, he’ll regret it.

December 15: I’m not playing games anymore. If they think they can silence me, they’re dead wrong.

The entries stopped abruptly a week before her death. My fingers trembled as I turned the pages, my heart pounding in my chest. Who was “K”? What deal? And what had Tina meant by “silence”?

Before I could dive further, my phone buzzed. The name on the screen made my blood run cold: Richard Delgrassi. My father’s old associate.

“Mr. Delgrassi? How did you find my number?” I said cautiously, picking up the call.

“I called your father, wanted to check up on you.” his voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like a blade sheathed in silk. “Are you okay? I heard about your co-worker Tina.”

I swallowed thickly, deep sigh escaped my lips. "I am fine, sir. It just . . . shocked us all."

“I am really sorry to hear that, if you need anything, please let me know. If you want to leave the company and start somewhere fresh, I will help you out." Leave. Why would I want to leave? I hummed. "Of course, sir, I will let you know." I heard him shuffle on the other side of the line. "What about Jungkook, I heard he is at the police station for questioning." I started pacing back and forth, "Well, right now we don't have much information on what happens next, but hopefully police would release him soon." "I hope so too." he spoke but something in his voice didn't feel sincere. "Alright, I just wanted to check up on you. Know you have someone you can count on." "Thank you, sir..."

The line went dead before I could ask anything else. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering in my chest.

I glanced back at the journal, its leather cover now looking more sinister than mysterious. Whatever Tina had been involved in, it wasn’t just office politics. It was something far darker, and I was smack in the middle of it.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood in front of the police station, staring at the cold, gray walls. It didn’t feel real—none of it did. My mind kept replaying the moment I heard the news: Tina, my manager, was dead. Murdered. And Jungkook, the CEO of the company I’d worked for, was the prime suspect unofficially.

The shock of it had hit me hard. Tina’s death had left a void in our office, and the fact that Jungkook, the man I already thought I knew so well, was now behind bars... it shattered everything.

I took a deep breath before walking through the sterile halls of the station. The fluorescent lights buzzed above me, making the air feel thick and oppressive. I passed the front desk, where the officers barely acknowledged me and suddenly bumped into someone.

The impact jolted me slightly, and I looked up to find Yoongi standing there, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable as ever. He sighed heavily, as if seeing me here was the last thing he needed.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” he asked, his tone low but laced with irritation.

I straightened my posture, refusing to let him intimidate me. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to see Jungkook.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fight, and it’s definitely not safe.”

“Not safe?” I scoffed, keeping my voice low so the officers milling about wouldn’t overhear. “I work at the same company, Yoongi. Tina was my manager too, in case you forgot. This affects all of us, not just you.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “That’s exactly why you need to stay out of it. Let the police handle this. Do you even realize how messy this is going to get?”

I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. “Messy or not, I have a right to know what’s going on. Jungkook isn’t just some random CEO. He’s—”

“He’s what?” Yoongi cut in, his tone sharp. “Your boss? Your friend? Someone you think you can trust? Newsflash, Y/N: trust doesn’t mean a damn thing right now.”

I felt the sting of his words but refused to back down. “You’re unbelievable,” I shot back. “You act like you’re the only one allowed to care about what’s happening.”

Yoongi ran a hand through his messy long hair, his jaw tight. I could notice he has been sleep deprived too, the dark circles under his eyes screamed tiredness. “I care because I know what’s at stake. And you showing up here, trying to play detective, is only going to make things worse.”

I stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us. “Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you think it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you staying out of it?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. I saw his eyes darken and he took a sharp breath through his nose, hands now resting on his hips. "Fucking hell, why are you so stubborn?" "Maybe I am good at annoying the hell out of you." His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. There was a silence stretching between us before he finally turned around and headed down the hallway.

“Fine,” he muttered over his shoulder. “If you’re so hell-bent on getting involved, follow me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We made our way to the interrogation room, where Jungkook was being held. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat as we approached the small, glass-walled room. Jungkook sat inside, his hands folded on the metal table in front of him. He looked tired, his usually sharp features drawn and pale.

The officer standing outside the door nodded at Yoongi, allowing us in. I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air thick with tension.

Jungkook glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting to Yoongi.

“Didn’t expect visitors,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat down, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “We’re not here to chat. What’s going on, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “You tell me. One minute, I’m at the office; the next, I’m hauled in here like a criminal.”

“Did you know Tina was dead?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to stay composed.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why are you here?” Yoongi pressed, his tone firm.

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. “Because someone saw me with her at the ball, and apparently, that’s enough to make me the prime suspect. Never mind that half the company was there."

I glanced at Yoongi, who didn’t break his stare. “And what about Tina? Did she say anything to you that night? Act strange? Mention something... off?”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “She didn’t say much of anything to me. She was too busy playing her games, like always. I told everything to the police but they still keep me in this godforsaken hole.”

“Games?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Y/N, you know fully well how she was,” Jungkook said, his voice bitter. “Testing people's limits, making sure everyone knew she had the upper hand. But I didn’t play along, and maybe that pissed her off. Who knows?”

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. “You need to give us more than that. If you want us to help you, we need something concrete.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow raised, he was shifting his eyes from me and Yoongi. I looked away, avoiding his gaze. “Help me? Since when are you two playing detectives?”

I rolled my eyes. "We are trying to help you out." I snapped and Jungkook shifted in his seat, letting out a deep sigh of defeat.

The tension in the room thickened, and I felt a pang of guilt watching Jungkook sitting there, defiant but vulnerable. I glanced at Yoongi, his steely demeanor unwavering as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Do you know for how long you will be captive here?" I finally asked. Jungkook shrugged. "No idea, until they find an evidence that the killer was not me." "What happens to the comapny now?" I pressed, "is it gonna shut down?" "I will take over." Yoongi muttered, "for the time being, until Jungkook gets released." I frowned glancing at Jungkook who hummed, I guess they managed to talk this through. "Fine, we will keep digging and see what we will find." "We?" My Boss frowned, "Y/N, I don't want you to get involved in this." "See?!Told her the same thingg, she doesn't listen." "Stop blabbing about the same things, I want in and I want to help. You two, adult men, act like kids. Jungkook, your situation here is not colorful at all. The quicker we get you out, the quick it would be your name to be cleared in front of the media." -

The sharp chill of the late evening air greeted us as we stepped out of the police station. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, my mind still racing with everything that had just transpired. Jungkook’s face, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, was etched in my memory.

“I’ll call a cab,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of my bag.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, stepping toward the parking lot. “Don’t bother. I’ll drive you.”

I stopped mid-dial and turned to him. “No offense, but I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. “Why? Because I’m not the most charming chauffeur? Or are you still mad at me for that club thing-y?”

“Neither,” I said quickly, my tone defensive. “It’s just... I don’t need you to babysit me, Yoongi. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, gesturing to my phone. “And you’ll do that by waiting alone outside a police station at night for a cab? Genius plan.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I realized how ridiculous it would sound. With a resigned sigh, I slid my phone back into my bag. “Fine. But no commentary while you drive.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smirk, leading the way to his car.

The ride started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Yoongi’s driving was calm and efficient, and for some reason, it annoyed me that he didn’t seem as rattled by everything as I was.

“Yesterday,” I began, breaking the silence, “when I was cleaning out Tina’s desk... I found something.”

He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “The journal.”

I blinked, surprised. “How did you—”

"Do you think I am that stupid?" There was silence, he narrowed his eyes, "don't even answer this, Y/N." I chuckled at that and shrugged my shoulders. "I saw you take a suspicious looking book off Tina's desk without the police looking so..." "I figured that it's better to find who did it first with a solid evidence, before turning it to the police." I hesitated but continued, “It’s... disturbing. Tina wrote about people she hated—colleagues, clients, even... me.”

Yoongi didn’t react visibly, but I caught his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“She was ruthless,” I continued. “Manipulating people, sabotaging careers—it’s all in there. And then there are these cryptic entries about a ‘deal.’ She doesn’t say who it was with, but it’s obvious it was risky. She mentioned being scared, like she knew it might backfire.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “And now she’s dead.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of it hitting me again. “Yeah. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Someone she crossed or someone involved in that deal... they might have wanted her gone.”

“You said the police don’t know about it yet?” he asked, his voice tense.

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t trust them to handle it the right way, especially with the way they’re already treating Jungkook.”

“Smart,” Yoongi said, nodding approvingly. “But if that journal is as explosive as you say, keeping it quiet might put you in danger.”

I bit my lip, anxiety bubbling in my chest. “I know. But what choice do I have? If it can help clear Jungkook’s name, I can’t just ignore it.”

Yoongi pulled into a quieter street, the streetlights casting long shadows over the car. He turned to me, his dark eyes serious. “You’re not doing this alone, Y/N. Whatever’s in that journal, we’re going to figure it out together.”

For a moment, his words surprised me. Despite his often aloof demeanor, there was an unexpected warmth in his voice.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it.

He nodded once and turned his attention back to the road, the rest of the drive passing in contemplative silence.

When we finally reached my place, he parked at the curb and leaned back in his seat. “Keep the journal close. Don’t let anyone else see it for now.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, opening the door.

As I stepped out, he called after me, “And Y/N?”

I paused, turning back.

“Be careful,” he said, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

I nodded, clutching my bag tightly as I headed up to my apartment, the weight of the journal—and everything it represented—feeling heavier than ever.

223 notes · View notes

kcrossvine-art · 1 year ago

Text

Hiiii friendssss! What the FUCK is up. What the fuck is up. What the Fuck is up. On todays cute little cookin excursion we are going to be deep frying things and using a wok. If you dont feel comfortable deep frying, and dont have a wok, im sure theres other ways to do it silly :DDD

I believe in you.

From LotR online we're gonna be making Fried Beetroot Sticks!!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Fried Beetroot Sticks?” YOU MIGHT ASKSlices of sweet little beated root dipped into a batter with, watch out, special flavors too.

2 Beetroots

Corn flour

Salt

Red Chilli Powder

Garlic Paste

Baking Soda

Water

Peanut oil

And we'll also be making some horseradish sour cream dip to go along with it;

Sour cream

Prepared horseradish

1 Green onion

Few splashes of lemon juice

Salt to taste

Ground pepper to taste

"Cooked, tender beetroot sticks are dredged in a light batter and fried to give a crispy exterior and a soft, sweet interior. Served with a bracing horseradish sour cream, this snack is both filling and delicious."- LotRO Tooltip

AND, “what does Fried Beetroot Sticks taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is like homemade fair-food and it sounds like a contradiction but its not

But maybe its just because its fried food? American brained, sorry.

Retains the inherit sweetness to beetroot

And similar to pickled beetroot the sweetness contrasts the spicey of the batter

(which i encourage you to amp up if youd like more spice)

The horseradish sourcream dip is to die for

Measure with your heart for that one, and save some green onion to top it with when you serve

This would pair very well with a lime italian soda or with shaved ice cones

Im always very anxious about deep-frying things, or working with oils at high temperatures, but i didnt run into any complications with this dish. Just make sure to keep best practices and safety precaution in mind, especially with a wok as it can tilt!

. If you dont have corn flour, you can substitute all-purpose flour . If you dont have peanut oil, look up oils with the same smokepoint to decide what else to use

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The recipe stuck out to me, as i was assembling a list of foodstuffs from tolkiens work, for being such a "regular" named food. Also its worth 19 silver 69 copper in the LotR MMO and im immature.

I think the dip has the most room for improvement and tinkering. I've never made horseradish sourcream before, so more practiced tastebuds could perfect a simple thing like this. In the future id also like to try adding red pepper flakes along with the the powder and garlic paste, to give more visual variety and spice. I think cumin in the batter would be a nice midtone flavor too.

I give this recipe a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) for its relative simplicity and modularity with things you could add.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Beetroot Sticks Ingredients:

2 Beetroots

130 grams corn flour

1 tbsp salt

1 tsp Red Chilli Powder

1 tsp Garlic Paste

1/4 tsp Baking Soda

178 grams Water

432 grams peanut oil

Horseradish Sour Cream Ingredients:

225 grams Sour cream

200 grams Prepared horseradish

1 whole green onion (green and white parts VERY finely chopped)

1 tspn lemon juice

Salt to taste

ground pepper to taste

Beetroot Method:

Peel all beetroots and cut them length-wise into rectangles.

Combine flour, salt, chilli powder, garlic paste, baking soda, and water in a bowl.

Mix well into a smooth batter.

Heat peanut oil to medium in a wok and dip beet roots into batter. Deep fry until golden brown in color.

Stack beetroots on paper-towel lined plates to cool and dry as you go.

Serve with horseradish sour cream!

Dip Method:

Mix all ingredients

Cover and let stand at room temperature for 1 hour for the flavors to blend.

#cross cooks lotr #lord of the rings #middle earth #food recipes #digital art

596 notes · View notes

gyrosfarm1 · 22 days ago

Text

Discover the journey of Gyros Farm's Organic Red Chilli Powder—from farm to your kitchen. At Gyros Farm, we prioritize purity, sustainability, and quality in every step of our production process. Starting with hand-picked, chemical-free red chilies grown using eco-friendly farming methods, we ensure the highest standards of organic cultivation.

Read More: https://www.gyros.farm/products/mirchi-powder-lal-mirch-naturally-processed-100-natural-sourced-from-guntur-made-with-sun-dried-chillies-200gm

#Organic Red Chilli Powder #Mirchi Powder #Red Chilli Powder #Best Red Chilli Powder #Best Quality Chilli Powder #Desi Lal Mirch #Dry Mirchi Powder

0 notes

lazzatfoodandspices · 6 months ago

Text

For the finest Red Chilli Powder Sopore, look no further than Lazzat Spices. Our premium red chilli powder is crafted from the finest chillies, ensuring vibrant color and robust flavor in every pinch. Sourced and processed with meticulous care, Lazzat Spices delivers the perfect balance of heat and richness, making it an essential ingredient for any dish. Whether you're enhancing traditional recipes or adding a spicy kick to modern cuisine, Lazzat Spices provides the quality and authenticity you need. Choose Lazzat Spices for the best Red Chilli Powder Sopore and elevate your culinary creations.

To know more Information about products, visit our official website https://www.lazzatspices.co.in/ or to order, please inbox us or call us at - +91 9797708330

#Red Chilli Powder Sopore #wholesale masala products #masala manufacturing company sopore #best masala products in jammu & kashmir #best masala in sopore #wholesale spices manufacturer

0 notes

bigskyandthecoldgun · 1 year ago

Text

based on this

steve's pov | dragon's pov

Steve had found Dragon hiding in a bush when she’d been a teeny, tiny kitten with mangy black fur and green eyes that took up basically her whole face.

She’d been so sickly, in fact, that the vet had warned Steve she might not make it. Steve had refused to give up on the kitten, though, nursing her back to health as best as he possibly could. Now, she’s an enormous, regal-looking cat that has a meow closer to a roar, a purr that makes her sound like a motorcycle engine, and breath so terrible it should be legally qualified as a hazardous gas. That is, admittedly, where Dragon had gotten her name. Steve had found her just after the events of ’84, and when Dustin came over to bug him for a ride to the arcade, he’d been all but obsessed with the poor cat.

“D’you have a name for her yet?” Dustin had asked, eyes wide with wonder as the kitten had scrambled up Steve’s pant leg and climbed up to perch on his shoulder, shaking and terrified at the stranger in their home.

“Nah. Figured I’d just call her, like, Midnight or something,” Steve had said with a shrug, to which Dustin had taken great offense.

Upon smelling the stench that had come from the kitten’s hiss, Dustin had declared her a fearsome creature with a breath weapon, whatever that means—a Dragon. So Steve’s got a cat that is incredibly clingy and a little stinky, but only when she opens her mouth.

And his cat is ruining his dating life.

The thing about Dragon is that she doesn’t like most people. She tolerates Robin, even when she’s sitting next to Steve, but other than that, she hates it when people get close to Steve. Dragon’s the most territorial cat Steve has ever met, and Steve can hardly go anywhere in the house without Dragon at his feet or on his shoulders. And balancing a cat as large as Dragon on his shoulders is not an easy feat. Dragon screams if Steve closes her out of a room he’s in and sleeps directly atop Steve’s chest. That cat is the clingiest creature on the planet, and Steve would die for her.

But Dragon despises people. She hisses at the girls Steve brings home, yowls when the door to Steve’s bedroom is closed, and swats at anyone that tries to so much as touch him when he’s on the couch. It’s absolutely destroying Steve’s chances at bringing girls home, and while most of his dates are content to bring him back to theirs, Steve’s getting a little tired of being kicked out of bed. At least when he’s at home, he can mope right away when girls turn down his offer of staying the night and leave early, rather than moping in his car.

And it’s not like he’s getting a ton of action lately, anyway. Now that the whole Vecna debacle is over, with Eddie and Max out of the hospital, the Party spends most of its nights together, so Steve hasn’t been going on too many dates anymore. Instead, he spends his time either on someone else’s couch or his own, and if it’s the latter, he can count on Dragon sitting squarely on his lap and everyone but Robin sitting a few feet away for safety purposes.

It’s a late afternoon in November, when he’s hanging out alone with Eddie at his house for the first time, when Dragon does something truly surprising.

She lets Eddie pet her.

They’re hanging out in the kitchen, Steve almost done with his cup of coffee and Eddie nursing a cup of his own mixed with an absurd amount of hot chocolate powder. The coffee in late afternoon is a peculiar habit of Eddie’s; he says it’s because it’s when his uncle usually wakes up, and they have coffee together, so Steve thinks it’s kind of sweet. It’s a really nice afternoon, chilly but not too cold, only slightly overcast so that it’s not too sunny but not too cloudy, either. The cool light makes Eddie’s hair look shiny, and the gleam bounces off his skin like a halo might.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Dragon in question. Dragon hops up on the counter, then hops up on Steve’s shoulders, purring as she nudges the side of her face against Steve’s cheek. Eddie grins. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”

“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Steve sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. Eddie snorts and reaches up to join Steve in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, but Steve takes a step back. “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”

Eddie’s grin turns into a small, fond smile. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.

Instead of the hiss Steve’s predicting, Dragon pushes her face against Eddie’s knuckles and continues to purr. “Holy shit,” Steve breathes, eyes wide, “she doesn’t do that with anybody.”

“She probably does that with you,” Eddie points out, and Steve gives him a flat look. The answering shit-eating grin he gets is unfairly endearing. “Nah, I get what you mean. But seriously? There must be someone else she likes. One of the kids? Some girl you brought home that happened to have cat treats in her purse or some shit?”

Steve groans and shifts Dragon into his arms, feigning annoyance when Dragon nuzzles against his jaw. It’s actually pretty cute. “No, this little asshole is ruining my chances of getting laid,” he says. “She hates everybody I bring home. She doesn’t even like the kids! The most socializing she’s ever done with another person before this is her letting Robin be next to me. Dragon tolerating a relationship? No way.”

Dragon lets out a loud meow and licks Steve’s cheek. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Eddie says, scratching under Dragon’s chin. Dragon meows again and squints, chin tilting up to give Eddie more room to scratch. Eddie clicks his tongue. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”

Steve decides to play along. “Draggy,” Steve coos, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”

“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself Daddy?” Eddie sputters, looking mortified.

Frowning, Steve shifts Dragon so that he’s holding her like one might hold an infant. “Yeah, I’m Dragon’s dad, and she’s my little baby,” he explains. “Duh.”

“No, okay, wh—nevermind,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “My point is, even if Dragon hates the ladies, I’m sure there’s one lady out there for you she won’t hate.”

As Eddie pets Dragon’s tummy—her tummy!—Steve realizes that, yeah, there is one person out there that Dragon doesn’t hate.

Steve resolves that, if Dragon really doesn’t mind Eddie’s company, he should have Eddie around more often. The way Steve sees it, if Dragon gets used to Eddie being in the house and being close to Steve, she might open up to other people who are around a lot, like the Party, and then she could even learn to tolerate girls coming over. As much as Steve hates to admit it, Eddie Munson might just be the reason his dating life gets revived.

At the next movie night, the movie night that Eddie finally shows up for, when Dragon hops into Steve’s lap and everyone scoots at least ten feet away, Steve pats the seat next to him. “Hey, Eddie, c’mere,” he says, and Dustin openly gawks when Eddie’s able to sit right next to Steve with no roaring protests from Dragon.

“What the hell?! I’ve been in your house so many times and I’ve never been able to sit near you when Dragon’s around!” Dustin huffs, scowling at the fluffy bastard. “And I’m the one who named her! I’m practically her godfather!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Henderson,” Eddie says, a slow grin spreading across his face, which can’t be good. “If Steve’s pu—”

“Nope,” Steve cuts in, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, cheeks burning, “not gonna let you finish that.”

Eddie nods. “Very wise,” he says, muffled. “It was gonna be incredibly inappropriate.”

Satisfied with having stopped that, Steve moves his hand away, and Eddie knocks their shoulders together. To Steve’s shock, Dragon doesn’t hiss or swat, just snuggles further into Steve’s lap and purrs harder than she’s ever purred before. The movie starts up, and Steve watches Eddie reach over in the dark, usually a bad move when it comes to Dragon. But Dragon just lets Eddie run a hand over the top of her head, and Steve leans into his side, the two of them sharing a small smile.

After the movie, when most everyone else has gone home, Eddie’s still around, scratching behind Dragon’s ears. “You know, you should hang out here more often,” Steve tells him, and Eddie raises a brow at him. Steve tilts his head. “I mean, Dragon doesn’t get a lot of socializing in, so…it’d probably be good for her.”

Clearly holding back a grin, Eddie nods. “Sure. I’d love to come around more so Dragon gets some socializing in,” he teases, and Steve rolls his eyes, holding back a smile of his own. Eddie leans closer, smoothing his thumb over Dragon’s fuzzy little cheek. “She’s really cute. Has good taste in who she lets pet her.”

Eddie casts his gaze down at Dragon. His lashes are long and dark. He has really nice hands, too, and it’s easy to notice them as they run over Dragon’s pitch-black fur. “Yeah,” Steve says quietly, giving Dragon a pat by her leg, “she does.”

Eddie comes over way more often from then on, and Dragon gets somewhat clingy to him, which is kind of unbelievable, because Dragon’s never rubbed up on anyone’s ankles but Steve’s, but it’s a marked improvement. The only downside is that Dragon still hasn’t improved with anyone else, but Steve figures that’ll change sooner or later.

For now, he’s content to hang out with Eddie in his room, laying on the bed with Dragon sitting on his chest and Eddie laying beside him. “Little lady,” Eddie coos, almost nose-to-nose with Dragon, who purrs. “Sweet baby girl.”

“She’s a smelly girl,” Steve tuts, scratching between Dragon’s ears. He looks at Eddie. “I still can’t believe you’re the only one out of everybody we know that she likes.”

Eddie looks up at him, big brown eyes shining with mirth. “I dunno, I think it’s pretty believable. I happen to be very likable,” he says. And, to Eddie’s credit, Steve’s found that he kind of is. “And besides, cats have good judgements of character. I’ve been chosen.”

Steve raises a brow. “I thought you said cats didn’t like you.”

Face scrunched up, Eddie tilts his head. “Yeah…I lied. Didn’t want to make you feel bad if I did get scratched,” he explains.

That’s fair, actually.

Dragon meows, raspy and roaring as always, and she smacks her paw out at Eddie’s arm, using her—trimmed, because Steve takes very good care of her—claws to drag him closer. “She wants you closer? That’s crazy,” Steve comments as Eddie scoots into his space, their sides pressed together. “She must really like you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but he does smile, soft and private, and Steve thinks it’s nice. It’s a smile he hasn’t seen before.

It’s pretty.

Even with Eddie and Dragon getting buddy-buddy, it still doesn’t seem to be helping Steve’s case with bringing anyone home. Hell, Dragon still isn’t even close to being civil with most of the Party, barring Robin, who actually got in a single chin scratch the other day. But Eddie and Dragon are getting along swimmingly, to the point where Eddie can actually pick Dragon up! Granted, it’s not for very long, because Dragon starts screaming about ten seconds in until Steve takes her from Eddie, but still. It’s insane.

“You are killing me, you little menace,” Steve tells Dragon one night while Eddie’s using the bathroom. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”

Dragon meows indignantly at him from her place on Steve’s lap, slow-blinking at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” Steve mutters.

Dragon yawns and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs.

“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Steve huffs. He blinks, face flushing. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”

Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response.

Steve blows out a long breath. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” Steve tells her.

Dragon roars.

Shushing her, Steve pets her to sweeten the deal of shutting up. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”

“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Eddie asks, bouncing into the room and sitting down beside him with a flouncy sort of flip of his hair. “Well, Madam Dragon, I do hope he hasn’t been slandering my good name.”

He’s using that silly cat-voice he does when he’s talking to Dragon, and it’s almost as endearing as the way Dragon rolls over to let Eddie rub her tummy. “I would do no such thing,” Steve says, feigning offense, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Miss Dragon, don’t listen to a word he says,” Eddie tells the cat. He glances over at the clock and frowns. “Ah, shit, it’s getting late.”

“You could stay here, if you want,” Steve offers. “Maybe Dragon’ll suffocate someone else in their sleep for a change.”

Eddie laughs, but he takes Steve up on the offer, heading into the guest bedroom in a change of clothes that definitely doesn’t make Steve feel a certain type of way about seeing Eddie in his one of his old swim team shirts. Though, the night is not peaceful, because a certain giant, annoying cat refuses to stop screeching at the top of her lungs. Eddie comes stumbling back into Steve’s bedroom, Dragon held in his outstretched arms, Eddie’s hands tucked under the cat’s armpits.

There’s a grumpy, slightly disgruntled look on Eddie’s face. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, placing Dragon on the bed, and Steve reaches for her to drag her into his lap. Eddie nods and turns to leave, only for Dragon to scream again, and he whirls right back around. “Oh my God, what?!”

Dragon gives a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at Eddie’s hand. “Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Steve says, his voice rough with what little sleep he’d managed to get between Dragon’s long and loud meows.

“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Eddie says. When he turns to leave again, Dragon yowls and bites down—seemingly gently—on his hand, carefully stepping backwards towards Steve while she does so. Eddie looks just as bewildered as Steve feels. “Does she want me to stay here?”

“I have no idea. I’ve literally never seen her do this before,” Steve tells him. “But, like, you can, as long as it’ll stop her from screeching.”

Eddie blows out a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t even care at this point, I just want to sleep,” he groans, clambering under the covers until they’re laying face-to-face beside each other. Eddie smiles at him, then winces and scoots closer. “Sorry, ah—she’s pushing my back.”

Dragon gives a little mrrp of confirmation.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her, I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, and Eddie just half-shrugs, eyes darting everywhere but Steve’s face. He looks uneasy. “Hey, man, if you’re uncomfortable staying here, you can sleep on the pullout in the den and I’ll just lock her in here, she’s got a litterbox and water in my bathroom, she’ll be fine. And you won’t hear anything down there, so…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. Wouldn’t wanna put you through that torture.”

He gets slightly closer, and Steve’s face goes a little hot at the proximity. Their noses are almost touching. “She’s being a little douchebag,” Steve murmurs. “Ignore her.”

“She keeps pushing at my back,” Eddie tells him, sounding a little panicked. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”

“I can take her out of the—”

Dragon lets out a meow so loud that it rings out for a few seconds after she’s done.

Eddie is clearly fighting a laugh. “Okay, so keeping her out of the room isn’t an option,” he says, and Steve chuckles. Eddie gives him a curious sort of look. “Hey…about earlier. What were you telling Dragon about me?”

Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome, is what Steve probably shouldn’t say.

“Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome,” is what Steve says, because he’s an idiot.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, behind his bangs. “I’m sorry, you think what?”

“That you’re really handsome,” Steve says, because, again, he’s an idiot.

Blinking, Eddie starts to frown. “Are you messing with me right now? Because if you are, that is not cool, Harrington—”

“I’m not,” Steve says. “I’m—I didn’t—I mean, Dragon really likes you, and cats are…a good judge of character, and you’re, uh—you’re pretty.”

The frown turns into a poorly-hidden smile. “I’m pretty?” Eddie echoes, lashes batting, and Steve can’t tell whether or not that’s intentional.

“You are,” he says softly. “You also make me laugh, and you get along really well with my cat, which—and I don’t know if you know this—is very hard to do.”

Eddie laughs, almost bashful. “I did say there’d be somebody Dragon had a soft spot for other than you, didn’t I?”

“The little menace is a matchmaker,” Steve mutters, and Eddie leans forward just slightly until their noses are touching. Steve reaches up to cup Eddie’s face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says breathlessly.

Steve presses their lips together gently, moving slowly, and Eddie hums into the kiss, one hand on Steve’s waist and the other sliding up to his chest. It’s soft and it’s good, and Steve leans into it a little more, his fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls as he deepens the kiss. Unfortunately, Steve has to pull back for air, but Eddie’s smiling when he does. Dragon meows, much further away than Steve had thought she’d been, and the sound of her collar jingling grows quieter and quieter.

“Well,” Steve says, “I definitely found somebody she likes.”

“Safe to say, she won’t prevent you from getting laid anymore,” Eddie murmurs, his low voice sending a shiver down Steve’s spine. He gets this hesitant sort of look on his face, like he isn’t sure if he’s overstepped. “I mean, only if you want to—”

Steve interrupts him with a chaste kiss. “Oh, I want to,” he whispers.

The next morning, when they wake up tangled in each other’s arms, clothes littering the floor, Dragon is sitting on the edge of the bed with Eddie’s discarded shirt in her mouth, tail flicking back and forth, looking smug as ever.

#i'll drop dragon's pov tomorrow #but for now u get this :]#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #robin buckley #there is nothing more important than platonic stobin #dragon knows this and she respects it

1K notes · View notes

deepfivetraveller · 8 months ago

Text

King Baldwin iv x Time!traveler!reader

chapter 2

Chapter 1 | chapter 3

You get up from your bed and sit on the floor cross-legged. “System, I have the ability to by clothes from you right? Can you show me a few of the clothes available at your store?”

Sadly Miss Y/n, when I meant you can buy clothes through me, I meant you can buy the fabrics only. It showed you a plethora of fabrics, ranging from cheap cotton to colourful silk.

Now this is annoying. You might have basic skills to stitch a button and all but making an entire dress from scratch? Yeah, that’s impossible. Not to mention tailoring machines don’t even exist. Now you have no choice but to buy from traders

When you began your mission the system gave you some money as an achievement for starting the main quest, which was more than enough to rent a room at the inn. But now that you have a place to sleep for some time you should probably start thinking about how to finish that small side quest you started.

After calculating the benefits and losses of the decision you’re about to make, you snap your fingers at the thrill of discovery and lean towards the screen. “System show me the food products you have available.” Within seconds it shows you all forms of food at the online shop. You scroll down a few times and find exactly what you’re looking for. Pepper, chilli powder, chat masala and many more spices were shown and you clicked buy,buy,buy on all of them. Considering the fact that most of the spices here weren’t even discovered in this timeline you have some faith that they will blow off in the market when you sell them.

I think I know what you’re gonna do to finish the side quest miss Y/n…

Last night

“Sadly this seems to be a bad time for you and your father to set up your shop madame.” The man held a cresset lamp, which illuminated the path while his wife helped you walk across.

“Why do you say so sir?” You’re confused. He seemed a bit hesitant to say this and signs his wife to reply.

“Many people in Jerusalem have been going sick. And it’s no ordinary sickness, no, people’s legs are getting swollen, they bleed at the slightest of injuries and the gums inside their mouth become tender to the point that their teeth start to fall off. Most doctors call it ‘The Barlow's disease’ or something along those lines but most of us just call it ‘The loosener of teeth’”

Yeesh that was a gruesome description. People here have less immunity as it is and something like this ain’t gonna help them much.

“Is it really that bad?” She nods a yes. “The sick have increased to a point where the king himself has taken notice. Although he has hired physicians from other lands to cure the sick, most of the people who have the sickness don’t have the money to visit them.” She sighs in defeat.

Wait a minute…Swollen gums? Falling teeth? Barlow's disease? You’ve studies about this before in history class, it’s scurvy! It affects people with a lack of Vitamin C in their diet that is, sailors and the poor. It can be cured simply by eating food which has the vitamin. A wave of relief washes you since you definitely won't be getting it.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem anymore madame.” You smile softly while the screen shows a pop up.

Side quest unlocked! Cure all people in Jerusalem from Scurvy.

Present

The stall for your shop was quickly set up, partially because the last owner just left the shop as it is. Within some time, all the spices were neatly displayed. By looking at other shops it was easy to decorate your own and it’s safe to say, yours was the most organised. It was extravagant, but not extravagant enough to drive the common people away.

Good job Miss Y/n! I’ll help you in whatever way I can to make the mission easy for you. I’ll try my best to get a discount on the rates in my store so you won't have to spend too much money on this!

“Thank you screen, that’ll help a lot. Honestly I’m doing it mostly for the money I’ll get after completing the side quest.” You remark while the screen giggles with its emoticon mouth. “By the way, just refer to me as Y/n. Miss Y/n feels too formal. Talk to me casually! You’re the only person that connects me to my time anyway.” You dryly chuckle, looking at the containers sadly. Even now you’re mind is not able to comprehend the fact that you’re in the past. It’s still trying to convince you, you’re in a foreign rural village.

“Excuse me.” you look at the young girl standing in front of your shop. “Do you have any pepper available?” So cute! She has such chubby cheeks too!

But immediately you notice her teeth. They look like as if they are about to fall; multiple of them. Her gums are also swollen, indicating she has the disease. So that's why her cheeks are chubby! Now you feel kinda bad for thinking its cute. “Yes we do darling how much do you want?”

“About 2 Livre (pounds) please.” She waited as you wrapped it up for her. “Do you wish to pay with your money or win it for free in a contest?” She squints her eyes. “Contest?”

With a bright smile you say “Yes a contest! This contest is an eating contest that only the people with Barlow's disease can contest in.” You show her a plate filled with oranges. “If the person is able to eat these oranges before the hourglass stops the person gets whatever they wish to buy for free! Remember, the more you want to buy, the more amount of fruit you have to eat.” You point out. At first you were a bit worried whether the girl would openly admit she has the disease since it’s considered shameful to openly admit a person is sick, but considering how her mouth was watering when she looked at the oranges, it was quite easy to determine she’d do anything for free food.

“W-Well…” She lifts her skirt a bit to show her swollen legs. “I have the sickness. Can I contest? If so, will my name be revealed for having the sickness??” Oh my god her cuteness is crushing your heart! “Oh no dear, nobody’s name shall be revealed, winner or participant. Do you want to contest?”

The girl nods vigorously as you set up the hourglass. The moment you tell her to start, she shoves all the slices of oranges into her mouth, making her choke. You panic and tell her to spit it out but she ignores your pleas and swallows them all, making her oesophagus hurt from the pressure.

You shift your demeanour and hand the pepper over to her. “C-Congrats! You won the contest! You can have this for free.”

She however is in a state of shock. To get good quality food for free is a miracle, a gift from God really.

“Did I…really win this?”

“Yes love you did! What you ate was quite a large amount too. Well done!” It wasn’t. You calculated time and time again this morning to get the orange slices proportional to the food they were buying in such a way that anyone with weak teeth could win it. You even used the son of the man and wife you met at first as a guinea pig, by making him eat them in the name of ‘A thank you gift.’ His sickness decreased drastically and his teeth became strong sometime after the meal, which was quite startling to see since you’ve never seen anyone recover that fast.

The little girl looked at you with doe eyes. “Can I contest again?”

“No love, a person gets only one chance per day. You can come tomorrow to try!”

“I will!” She squeaks. “I loved that fruit too. It’s flavour was unlike anything i’ve eaten, being sweet and tangy at the same time.” Damn it's hard to believe she was even able to taste it after seeing the way she shoved it in her mouth. “I’ll come again tomorrow to try nice lady!”

“Spread a good word for me!” You yell as she waves goodbye. It didn’t take much time for your shop to go popular.You told about this contest to anyone who entered your shop. Many were disgusted at the fact the sick have come here but others saw this as an opportunity to get free food. The sick came to you in disguise at first but within the span of four days they didn’t even hide their sickness anymore. People started viewing your shop as a clinic at some point, an they started lining up, some even carrying family members who’ve lost their ability to walk.

It got to the point where all of this was happening at a loss, so the best course of action was to sell the oranges to other fruit traders. It not only gave you a huge profit but also made sure the cure was spread to all corners of Jerusalem. Your oranges were rumoured to be ‘The miracle cure’ so they sold out of shops within seconds. The poor still came to you for the free ones but the rich considered it a luxury product due to its high rates at shops. Funny how these were the same people who were disgusted at your idea at first.

Within one and a half months the sick decreased drastically. Your name became popular which worried you alot since you’re probably under the radar of assassins or someone more dangerous. Your quest too was finished, and the system gave you a heep of money which was enough to buy a moderately big home. While people were being cured, your anxiety surged more and more. You were certain your life was under a threat.

One faithful day while you were instructing the new employees on how to take care of the shop, the crowd became silent. They made way for a bunch of men on horses. It was the crusaders.

Everyone including you bowed slightly as they made an announcement.

“Madame Y/n, the king has noticed your efforts on eradicating the Barlow's disease. He has decided to meet you at the royal court to thank you properly. We shall be heading there NOW.” Two guards came up to you and dragged you inside a carriage like vehicle, which was poorly made.

This wasn’t an invitation to give you rewards. The KING himself has decided you’re a witch and has demanded your presence in court, to decide how to execute you.

#king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv x oc #baldwin x reader #king baldwin x reader #baldwin of jerusalem #baldwin iv x reader #the leper king #koh fandom

265 notes · View notes