#I know it seems like a small issue and I might be blowing it out of proportion

[justheretothink]

came home to find a still-wet water ring on my dining table from my either my roommate or one of her friends who stayed over last night and today

my dining table, which is 20+ years old, which belonged to my aunt who just recently passed away from cancer, never before stained in any way aside from being a little dirty when I first got it

stained with a water ring when there were placemats (!) and drink coasters (!) right next to it! On the same table!

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[pucksandpower]

Black Magic

Charles Leclerc x witch!Reader

Summary: famously non-superstitious Charles takes drastic measures to break the Monaco curse

Charles rubs his temples as he stares at the phone, mentally rehearsing how he’s going to convince you to meet with him. He knows it’s a long shot — from what his mother told him, you’re not exactly eager to use your … abilities, as she called them. But he’s desperate at this point after years of the Monaco curse haunting him.

He takes a deep breath and taps the call button. It rings once, twice, three times before you finally pick up with a cautious “Hello?”

“Y/N? Hi, this is Charles Leclerc. I was given your number by my mother ...” His voice trails off as an awkward silence stretches between you.

Finally you respond, sounding confused. “Pascale? But why would she ...”

Charles rushes to explain. “She said you might be able to help me with … well, with breaking a curse of sorts. One that’s been plaguing me for years at the Monaco Grand Prix.” He pauses, cringing a little at how ridiculous he sounds saying it out loud.

There’s another long pause before you let out a soft sigh. “I should’ve known this would happen eventually. Listen, I only do that kind of thing for family emergencies these days. Curses and spellwork … it’s not something I take lightly.”

“I understand,” Charles says quickly. “But you have to know what the Monaco Grand Prix means to me. It’s my home race, the most meaningful one on the calendar for me. And yet, every single year something goes wrong — mechanical failures, crashes, bad strategy calls, communication issues. It’s like I’m cursed to never win it.”

You’re silent for a moment, seeming to consider his words. “I’m aware of the … situation,” you say finally. “But even if I did agree to look into it, breaking an actual curse isn’t something that happens overnight. It would take time and effort.”

“I’ll give you anything you need — time, money, whatever it takes,” Charles insists. “Just … please. I’m desperate here. My heart can’t keep taking these kinds of blows.”

Another pause, then a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise to take this seriously and listen to what I say. No skepticism, no brushing it off as some kind of joke. This is real to me.”

Relief floods through Charles. “Yes, absolutely, I promise. When can you come by? I’m staying in Monaco until the race next weekend.”

“I’ll need a little while to prepare,” you say slowly. “But … I can try to come by Tuesday? We’ll need to talk more about this in person.”

“Tuesday is perfect,” Charles agrees eagerly. “Truly, thank you for this. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your time.”

You let out a small huff of laughter. “You keep your championship hopes, I’ll keep my soul. We’ll call it even.”

A bemused smile crosses Charles’ face at that. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yes. I’ll be there Tuesday.” You hang up abruptly, leaving Charles staring at the phone with a mixture of hope and trepidation. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into … but he’s willing to try anything at this point.

Two days later, you show up at Charles’ apartment looking rather apprehensive. He ushers you inside, eyes raking over you with obvious curiosity. You’re younger than he expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a casual air and slight frame that doesn’t exactly scream “all-powerful witch“.

Still, he tries to withhold any skepticism as promised. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything? Some wine, or ...”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, thanks. I’d rather just get down to business if that’s okay.”

Charles nods and you both settle onto the couch, an anticipatory silence stretching out. Finally you clear your throat. “So. Tell me more about this … curse.”

And so he does, relaying in exhaustive detail the string of unlikely disasters that have befallen him at nearly every Monaco Grand Prix since he started in Formula 2. Crashes, mechanical failures, pit stops gone wrong, you name it … it’s like the racing gods have it out for him every year on his home streets.

You listen patiently, nodding along, your expression unreadable. When he finishes, you’re quiet for a long moment before speaking. “You know curses and superstitions have existed in motorsports for decades, right? It’s a high-adrenaline, high-risk environment … prime territory for that kind of thing to take root.”

Charles frowns. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m not saying that.” You shake your head. “I’m just … managing expectations here. Breaking an entrenched curse, if that’s even what this is, isn’t easy. It’ll take much more than a couple of days of spellwork.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you can’t help.”

“I didn’t say that.” You eye him levelly. “I’m saying this is going to require time, patience, and an open mind from you. If you’re willing to put in that kind of commitment, then I’ll do what I can. But you have to go into this knowing it might not work.”

Charles is silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally he nods. “Okay. You’re right, I’ll stop being skeptical and doubting this. I’m ready to fully commit, whatever that takes.”

A small smile flits across your face and you nod. “Alright then. I’ll need to gather some supplies first, do you have anything personal I can use? Something meaningful, something that represents your driving?”

Charles scrambles up to rummage through his drawers, finally emerging with a battered red fireproof racing glove, handing it over to you. “Will this work? My godfather gave it to me when he first started teaching me to kart.”

You take it with a nod, turning it over in your hands. “It’s perfect. I’ll need to attune it and prepare a few … components.” You glance up at him. “This may take me a day or two. But after that, I can try to get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”

He nods, feeling that flicker of hope rekindle in his chest. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You rise, slipping the glove into your bag. “I will. And Charles?” You hesitate, looking almost nervous for the first time since you arrived. “I know we’ve only just met, but … I want you to understand how serious I’m taking this. Messing with forces like curses … it’s not something I do lightly. If I can’t help in the end, it’s not for lack of trying, okay?”

Something about your sincere tone puts Charles at ease and he nods. “I know. Thank you for this … really.”

A shy smile ghosts across your lips before you slip out, leaving Charles alone with his doubts and hopes alike. Over the next couple of days, he tries to distract himself with race prep and strategy meetings, but his mind keeps drifting back to you and your mysterious preparations. He’s not sure whether to feel hopeful or just plain foolish for entertaining all of this curse nonsense.

Finally, Thursday afternoon rolls around and you arrive once more at his door, looking oddly serene. You accept his offered glass of wine this time as you settle on the couch, clutching the battered racing glove and a few other strange items.

“Okay,” you say, taking a fortifying breath. “I’ve done what I can to attune myself to your energy and prepare. I should be able to at least get a sense now of what we’re dealing with.”

Charles nods, feeling an anxious flutter in his chest as you close your eyes, seeming to slip into some kind of trance-like state. The seconds tick by, tension building in the air around you. Just when he’s about to break the silence, your eyes fly open with a gasp.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking utterly stunned. “This is … wow.”

“What?” Charles prods urgently. “What did you see?”

You shake your head, almost looking scared now. “I’ve never encountered anything like this. The sheer scale, the power … Charles, this isn’t just some simple bad luck curse. This is dark, powerful magic rooted over years and years. Maybe even generations.”

A leaden feeling sinks into the pit of Charles’ stomach at your ominous words. “So you’re saying you can’t break it?”

“I didn’t say that.” You draw in a steadying breath. “But it’s not going to be easy. Or quick. This is going to take serious ritual work over an extended period of time. I’ll need more supplies, maybe some help from others. It’s … a huge undertaking.”

You look up at Charles, expression grave. “But I think I can do it. If you’re willing to fully commit and see this through, no matter how long it takes or what I need from you, then I’ll put everything I have into breaking this curse.”

Charles stares at you for a long moment, feeling the weight of what you’re saying. This is so much bigger than he ever imagined. Part of him wants to run from the sheer enormity of it all.

But then he pictures it — finally winning his home race after all these years, the crowd roaring as he drinks in the euphoric feeling. No more bad luck, no more disasters clouding his joy. Just pure triumph.

His jaw sets in determination as he meets your eyes. “Whatever it takes. I’m in.”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “Okay then. We’ll get started right away. This may get … intense at times. But I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you,” Charles says fervently. “Truly, thank you for taking this on.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you reply, something sparking in your eyes. “We’ve got work to do.”

And just like that, you dive into preparation mode — making lists, sending messages, gathering spell ingredients and components that have Charles raising his eyebrows more than once. He tries to follow along as best he can, but it’s like a foreign language to him.

After a while, he can’t help but ask. “So … did you always know you could do this kind of thing? The witchcraft, I mean?”

You pause, considering his question. “It’s a family tradition, passed down. My grandmother started teaching me from a very young age. But I’ll be honest … I never fully embraced it until recently.”

Charles feels himself grow curious. “What changed your mind?”

A strange look crosses your face and you’re quiet for a moment before replying. “My grandmother was ill. The doctors had … given up, more or less. So in desperation, I tried to help the only way I knew how. And it … worked, somehow. After that, it was hard to keep denying what I could do.”

“Wow,” Charles says softly. “That’s amazing. I can’t even imagine ...”

You shrug, suddenly looking almost shy. “It’s a lot, I know. Probably hard to wrap your head around. Which is why I appreciate you being so open-minded about this.”

Charles gives you a crooked smile. “Well, I’m relying on you here. I figure I should at least return the favor and be open-minded.”

A surprising laugh escapes you and you shake your head in amusement. “You’ve got a point there.”

A surprisingly comfortable silence lapses between you, broken only when you glance at your watch. “Alright, enough waiting around. We should get back to work if we want to be ready before race day.”

Charles feels nervous anticipation flutter in his chest again. “You really think we can pull this off that quickly?”

“We have to try,” you reply, already focused and in work mode once more. “Just be prepared … this isn’t going to be easy for either of us.”

Charles swallows hard and nods. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Over the next several days, Charles is swept up in a whirlwind of strange rituals and practices — chanting, incantations, symbolic offerings, things he never could’ve imagined before this week. You lead him through it all with a calm patience, guiding him every step of the way.

It’s completely draining, leaving him wrung out and exhausted every night … but he can’t deny the noticeable shift he feels with each passing day too. It’s almost like a weight, a cloud of dread he’s carried for years, is slowly dissipating. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it’s hard … especially with the way your face glows with quiet pride whenever your eyes meet his.

Finally, the night before the race arrives. You’ve worked practically around the clock except for when Charles had to leave for free practice and qualifying, both of you barely sleeping or eating as you poured everything into breaking the curse.

As the sun sets over Monaco’s famed harbors and hills, you finally seem to pause, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I think … I think that’s everything we can do for now.”

Charles stares at you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. “You mean … it’s done? The curse is broken?”

You exhale slowly, looking suddenly drained but at peace. “As much as it can be, at least. The groundwork is laid, the ritual completed. But actually severing that kind of ancient tie ...” You shake your head. “We’ll have to see what happens tomorrow. I’ve done everything I can.”

Relief and gratitude wash over Charles as he reaches out to grasp your hand impulsively. “Thank you,” he says fervently. “For all of this … I can’t even begin to express how much it means.”

You seem surprised by his emotional outburst for a moment before squeezing his hand back gently. “You’re very welcome, Charles. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I had it in me at first. But you put so much faith in me. That meant everything.”

He holds your gaze, feeling an unexpected sense of connection pass between you. So much has happened in such a short span of time — he came to you a skeptic, but now he feels like he’s been through a transformative experience. And you … you’ve put your entire being into helping him, far beyond any reasonable expectation.

The air almost seems to crackle with tension as you both search each other’s eyes. Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, you start leaning towards each other infinitesimally. Charles’ heart kicks up a staccato rhythm as your faces inch closer together ...

Until finally, your lips meet in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s achingly gentle and sweet, at odds with the intensity thrumming underneath. When you finally part, Charles feels almost dazed, his heart pounding.

“Wow,” he breathes out, unable to tear his eyes away from yours. “That was ...”

“Yeah,” you murmur back, looking equally affected. “It was.”

A silence stretches out as you simply gaze at each other. So much has passed between you in these short days — an entire lifetime’s worth of intimacy and connection. It’s overwhelming and exciting all at once.

Finally, Charles seems to shake himself out of the dazed reverie. Clearing his throat, he says gruffly, “Anyway, um … thank you again. I should probably try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

“Right, of course,” you respond quickly, flushing slightly. “The race. Yes, that’s … probably a good idea.”

An awkward pause hangs in the air before Charles blurts out, “You’ll be there though, right? At the race, I mean? As my guest?”

A slow smile spreads across your face and you nod. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He returns your smile, feeling lighter than he has in years. “Okay, good. That’s really good.”

With that, and one last lingering look, you gather your things and slip out, leaving Charles alone with his whirling thoughts and cautiously rising hope. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring — triumph or despair. But for the first time in his life, he feels like he’s not facing it alone.

As he climbs into bed that night, his mind keeps drifting back to that unexpected, electric kiss and the connection you seemed to share, if only for a moment. He can’t stop replaying it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin ...

With a groan, Charles rolls over, trying in vain to shut off his thoughts. He needs to rest. Tomorrow is everything he’s been working towards for years — his best hope at finally ending the Monaco curse. And you’ll be there, your faith and magic bound to his dream.

Finally, Charles manages to drift into a restless sleep, his unconscious mind swirling with visions of chequered flags and your smiling face in the crowd. Whatever happens, he knows nothing will ever be the same after tomorrow.

***

The next morning dawns bright and clear, a perfect Monaco day. As Charles gets ready to head to the circuit, he can’t shake the anxious flutter in his chest.

This is it. His moment of truth.

Just before he’s about to leave, a soft knock comes at the door. When he opens it, you’re standing there looking almost as nervous as he feels.

“Hey,” you say with a small smile. “Thought I’d come wish you luck in person. And … give you one last thing for the race.”

You hold out a small silk pouch which Charles takes curiously. Opening it up, he pulls out the same battered racing glove he’d given you days ago, now embroidered with strange runic symbols.

“I imbued it with every protection ritual and good luck charm I could think of,” you explain. “As an extra boost on top of the work we’ve already done. Maybe it’ll help settle those pre-race jitters too.”

Charles feels a wave of affection crest over him as he looks at the glove, then back up at you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” He says softly. “Truly, I don’t know how to thank you enough for everything.”

You duck your head shyly, but he can see the pleased flush on your cheeks. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and get that win you’ve been waiting for, okay?”

“I will,” Charles promises fervently. He pauses, then seems to make a split-second decision, stepping forward to cup your face in his hands. “And when I do … I’m taking you out for the biggest celebration Monaco has ever seen.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but you give a breathless little nod. “It’s a date then.”

The corner of Charles’ mouth quirks up. “It’s a date,” he echoes, letting his thumb brush over your cheekbone lingeringly before forcing himself to step back. “I should get going. But I’ll see you out there later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you confirm, looking almost as flustered as he suddenly feels. “Good luck, Charles.”

He shoots you one last, blazing look before tearing himself away, hurrying out to his waiting car. The entire drive to the circuit, his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s just pre-race adrenaline or something more … something sparked by you and that searing, promising look you gave him.

By the time he arrives, gets into his race suit and fireproofs, and settles into the cramped cockpit of his Ferrari, Charles is wound up like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes keep drifting over to the embroidered glove still clutched in his hand, feeling the weight of everything it represents — your devotion, your magic, and the hope of finally breaking free from years of heartbreak.

As the cars are wheeled out onto the grid and the pre-race festivities begin, Charles scans the garage until his eyes finally land on you. You’re standing with a perfect viewpoint, eyes already locked on him, and when you catch his gaze you mouth “Good luck“ with an encouraging smile.

A determination like he’s never felt before surges through Charles’ veins. He’s going to win this race, not just for himself but for you too after everything you’ve sacrificed. Giving a firm nod, he slips the glove beneath his suit and grips the steering wheel tightly, watching the lights flick from red.

And as they finally go green and the cars roar away, Charles leans into the first turn in pure focus and exhilaration. For once, his mind is clear of any doubt or dread about the Monaco curse. He can only think about racing, about achieving his dream ...

And afterwards, celebrating that dream coming true with you.

***

As the deliriously happy celebrations continue around him at Monza, Charles can barely catch his breath. The euphoria of a hard-fought victory is still pulsing through his veins, that cherished feeling never getting old no matter how many times he experiences it.

He’s in the middle of accepting congratulations from his mechanics when he sees a Sky Sports reporter, making a beeline for him with her microphone in hand. Trying to tamp down his giddy smile slightly, he turns to face her.

“Charles! Huge congratulations on another amazing win today,” the reporter gushes as soon as she reaches him. “You’re really hitting your stride this season, what a comeback from the early struggles.”

“Thank you. Yes, the team has been doing incredible work to get me a car capable of winning,” Charles replies graciously. “I’m just thrilled to be able to deliver for them.”

“And for the fans too, who have been utterly captivated watching this gripping title battle unfold,” she continues. “Speaking of which, I have to ask — the viewers have been flooding us with one question in particular recently. What’s the story behind those little symbols that keep popping up on your race suit collar? Some kind of good luck charms maybe?”

At the mention of the embroidered symbols, Charles feels his lips quirking up into a small, unconscious smile. He should have known someone would eventually ask about them — the fans on social media have certainly been speculating endlessly.

“Ah, you spotted those?” He says lightly. “Well, it’s um … it’s actually something my girlfriend does for me before every race weekend.”

The reporter’s eyes widen with obvious interest, scenting a prime bit of gossip. “Your girlfriend? We had no idea you were dating someone, Charles! Do tell us more.”

Charles lets out a slightly self-conscious chuckle, feeling the tips of his ears going pink. He’s intensely private about his personal life, preferring to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible. But the story behind the symbols is too meaningful to brush off entirely.

“Yes, well my girlfriend prefers to stay out of the public eye,” he explains carefully. “Let’s just say she comes from a rather … unique background and heritage. She has certain talents and practices that are very important to her.”

The reporter blinks at him in obvious confusion. “Wait, is she some kind of … psychic or something?”

“Not exactly,” Charles demurs, fighting back an amused grin at the mental image. “More like … well, I suppose you could call her a witch, of sorts.”

A shocked silence falls over the surrounding reporters who have tuned into their exchange. For a long beat, no one seems to know how to react to such an unexpected revelation. Charles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the media look so bemused before.

Finally, the reporter seems to find her voice again. “A … witch?” She repeats slowly. “As in, like, cauldrons and broomsticks and the whole bit?”

Charles lets out a full laugh at that. “Well, not quite like that, no. But she does practice certain … rituals and magics, let’s say. Most of which, I’ll admit, still seems completely mad to me.”

The reporter’s expression is one of fascination now as she leans in closer with her microphone. “And she does these rituals and … magics ... for you? Before races?”

“Exactly,” Charles confirms with a nod. “She adds protective symbols and charms onto things like my race suit, my helmet, sometimes other items depending on the ritual. It’s her way of looking out for me, of sending some extra luck and security my way on race weekends.”

He pauses, his smile softening unconsciously as he thinks about you. “I’ll be honest, I was pretty skeptical of it all at first. The whole concept of witchcraft and curses seemed ... well, rather far-fetched, you know? But she’s been so devoted to her practices, so sincere in her beliefs about the positive energies she wants to send my way … how could I not start to believe in it too?”

The media seems to be hanging on his every word now, caught up in this bizarre but undeniably romantic tale. The reporter lets out a wistful sigh. “Well, it’s clearly been working like a charm so far this season! Maybe the rest of the grid had better start looking into getting their own race day witches on board.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the group at that as Charles shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I can see that becoming very popular around the paddock.”

“So does she come to all the races then, your witch girlfriend?” Another reporter pipes up curiously. “Is she wandering around doing spellwork in the backrooms?”

“Oh, no no, nothing like that,” Charles chuckles. “She prefers to keep things … subtle, let’s say. Just the little symbols and charms. Though she is here today actually.”

The reporter’s eyes light up like she’s just struck journalistic gold. “She is? And does she get to celebrate with you after wins like this?”

A soft, almost shy smile plays across Charles’ lips as he nods. “Yes, whenever her schedule allows she tries to come to the races. And we’ll definitely be celebrating together tonight, just us.”

He gets a slightly far-off look in his eyes, seeming to get lost in the thought for a moment. The reporters watching on collectively hold their breaths, waiting for him to divulge more juicy details about this mysterious girlfriend.

Finally, Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat. “But anyway, I should really get back to the team to share this incredible day with them properly.”

The reporter makes one last attempt. “Oh, go on, just give us her name at least? Enquiring minds want to know about this charming race day witch of yours!”

Charles throws her an apologetic look. “You know I have to protect her privacy. All I can say is … she’s pretty remarkable. And she’ll probably hex me if I start giving out too many details about her!”

Laughs and groans of disappointment rise up from the reporters at being denied the full scoop. But they know better than to push Charles too far. With some final shouted congratulations, they gradually disperse, no doubt rushing off to publish their articles about the shocking revelation of Charles Leclerc’s witchy girlfriend.

As the small crowd clears out, Charles feels a light touch on his elbow and turns to find you standing there, eyes sparkling with amusement and fondness.

“Well, you’ve certainly given the paddock something to gossip about now,” you tease lightly. “A charming race day witch, am I?”

Charles makes a show of rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks flush a bit at your teasing. “What was I supposed to tell them? You know how much I hate discussing our personal lives with the media.”

“I know, I know.” You rise on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I thought it was … sweet, actually. How you talked about my practices.”

Charles’ expression softens as he gazes down at you. Ever since that electric evening in Monaco when you first worked your magic on the infamous curse (and him), your relationship has deepened into something truly beautiful. At first, he admits he was still somewhat skeptical of the mystical rituals and protective charms you claimed to do for him.

But race after race, as the victories kept mounting with no traces of bad luck or mishaps, he’s become nearly as devoted a believer as you. And it goes far beyond just race day superstitions now. Seeing the depth of your spirituality, your connection to unseen mystical forces, has opened his eyes in so many ways.

He pulls you flush against him, cupping your face tenderly as he murmurs, “I meant every word. What you do … it means everything to me, you know that right? Whether the magic is real or not, your rituals give me a sense of peace and security I’ve never felt before.”

You gaze up at him with those captivating eyes that never fail to make his heart stutter. “I know. And that’s why I’ll never stop doing them for you. You make me feel … connected. Vital. Like my gifts can actually make a positive impact, instead of being some weird family quirk.”

Charles lets his thumb gently trace the delicate line of your cheekbone, drinking in every detail of your beloved face. “They do make an impact, mon cœur. Probably more than either of us can comprehend.”

He draws you into a lingering kiss, one that sends delicious sparks of heat ricocheting through his body. When you finally break apart, you’re both smiling and slightly flushed.

“Mmm, I should really start charging the team for services rendered, if that’s the payment plan,” you joke breathlessly.

Charles arches one eyebrow at you. “Trust me, they would go broke in a week trying to keep up.”

You let out a full laugh at that, the musical sound making his heart swell. He loves this — the moments of playful intimacy and banter, feeling so incredibly grounded and content with you. Before you came into his life, such tender domesticity always seemed like an impossible dream given his lifestyle.

Pulling you close once more, he nuzzles into the soft skin of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs huskily. “I have a victory to properly celebrate … and I require your particular skills again tonight.”

You shiver slightly in his arms, drawing back just enough to fix him with a heated look. “My skills are always at your service. Shall we summon a portal or ...”

He huffs out a laugh at your playful tone, secretly loving when you tease him about the more fanciful aspects of witchcraft. “Why don’t we just take the car for now? No need to alarm the locals by apparating in the middle of the paddock.”

Chuckling, you lean up to steal one more lingering kiss before murmuring, “Deal. Now let’s get out of here before that reporter comes sniffing around for more gossip.”

Taking his hand, you start leading him away from the crowded pit lane and back toward the nearby motorhomes. With every step, Charles can feel the thrum of excitement building in his veins, fueled by much more than just the adrenaline of his race win.

There’s a steady warmth pulsing deep within him now, a sense of gratitude and contentment that suffuses his very soul. Ever since that fateful day in Monaco when he let you into his life, everything has shifted into vibrant new focus.

He’s never been superstitious, not really — he prides himself on being practical, logical, leaving little room for spiritual or religious beliefs. And yet … with you, a whole unseen mystical world has opened up to him in the most extraordinary way. Even if he still doesn’t fully understand the intricacies of your rituals and practices, he knows with certainty how they make him feel.

Protected. Centered. Empowered.

Loved, more deeply than he’s ever experienced.

As you make your way hand-in-hand through the chaos of post-race celebrations, trading giddy grins and teasing jokes, Charles feels it all shining outward from his very core — past the fame, the accomplishments, the never-ending pressures of being an elite athlete. With you by his side, he’s found a serenity and sense of self far beyond what any championship could provide.

So tonight, as you cuddle together and let your energies flow over him in that uniquely intimate way, he’ll pour every ounce of devotion and love he feels right back into you. Because in the end, that’s the most powerful force of all — one that transcends even the wildest of your spells and charms.

As long as you two are bound together on this path, no force in the universe could ever curse him again.

[jazziejax]

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Dev-Em x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - flirting, mentions of sex, unknown world confusion, slight jealousy, and I tried to make this a slow burn but I might be a little fast with the way I’m going, idk

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I know it’s been a minute, I KNOW YOU WANT A BAD BOYS UPDATE, but I’m collecting more so I can release two at a time. Plus, I’m lowkey in a Snowfall moment right now and trying my best in to write for Franklin Saint/Damson Idris because once I’m in the mindset of the drug game, it’s hard to get out of. (I’m so dramatic 🙄) Imagine Leroy and Giorgio who you want, i had Danny Glover and Joey Bada$$ in mind. UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grimmer issues, I don’t like re-reading my own work :(

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 8,096+

“So, we need to get some sort of story in order before we see Uncle Leroy.” She said, her flyaways blowing within the wind.

The golden sunlight of Louisiana filtered through the dense canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish moss, casting dappled shadows on the winding dirt road. Magnolia had one hand on the steering wheel of her old pickup truck, the other tapping nervously on the door of the open window. The ride was silent the majority of the time it took them to get to Leroy’s. Dev’s eyes were trained out of the window, jumping between all of the different things he could as they went from the scarce homes of the countryside to the French-style city. He would see the occasional stray dog that ran with some others as they raced for scraps or a stork rise for the waters and fly off.

Magnolia would glance over now and then, watch as Dev leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes scanning everything outside with the intensity of someone cataloging the world for the first time. She assumed speaking would snap him out of his thoughts, but his gaze was focused intensely out of the window.

“You don’t blink much, do you?” Magnolia asked, squinting over at him out of the corner of her eye.

Dev turned his gaze to her at that, his expression calm but curious. “Blinking is inefficient when observing. I might miss something important.” She stated.

“You sound like some sort is soldier.” She said, letting out a small chortle. She glanced over at him to see his eyes flicker away from her, his jaw flexing quickly as he trained his eyes out of the car again. She could see that her statement hit a nerve, so she just awkwardly cleared her throat. “Well, now that I have your attention.” She began as her fingers flexed on the wheel. “When we get to Uncle Leroy’s, just let me do all the talking, okay? He’s old and suspicious of everything so there will be a lot of questions and I don’t want his mumbo jumbo to confuse you.” Her words only caused Dev to furrow his brows slightly, glancing over at her.

“Mumbo Jumbo?” He questioned. Magnolia just blinked at him. “Right.” She said. “Uh, forget that. Let’s just get our story straight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Um….”She trailed off as she thought, tapping her fingers against the door her arm rested on. “You’re a friend from college!” She stated, glancing over at him with a nervous smile. “We can say you’re in the military and you just got back from deployment and needed a place to stay.” She said with a grin.

“Why would I choose to stay with you?” Dev asked, blinking over at her. Her grin faltered slightly as she glanced from the road and over to him. “Because we’re college friends?” She asked herself more than she answered him, thinking over the logic of their plan.

“Why wouldn’t I stay with family?” Dev continued.

“They’re dead,” Magnolia stated simply with a shrug, not taking her eyes off the road as her grin appeared again since she came up with another take that seemed to fit their plan. “See, it checks out now.” She stated, not charging the way Dev’s eyes seemed to dim. His jaw tightened as he focused his eyes down at his hands, which were clenched together in his lap as he tried to keep his composure. “That won’t be too hard for me to adjust to.” He stated plainly. Magnolia glanced over at him due to his deep tone, deeper than usual. It was filled with dread and anger, although it was masked to seem like average indifference.

She blinked once she registered his words, her gaze returning back to the road. She internally cursed herself out for being so forward. She felt her heart clench as she thought it over again and again in her mind. He was so lost, in a strange world with no family. Everything was unfamiliar to him and he could barely remember how he ended up here. He was helpless. And she wasn’t making it any better.

“Well, let’s just scrap that all then.” She stated softly. “It wouldn’t make much sense for you to be in the U.S. military anyways with your accent and all.” She said, turning her head to look out of her driver-side window as she cringed again as words kept slipping out of her mouth. She didn’t mean to keep bringing up how different he was and his home but she couldn’t help it. They are coming up with his background story after all, so they don’t have to explain that he fell from the sky in some unknown object.

“We’ll just say that you’re an exchange student, in a way but still a college friend.” She began again. “You’re here to gain the full American experience, the one you didn’t really get in university since you were always on campus, and I’m your host.“ She looked over at him for any sign that she probably said something wrong again, only to be met with a simple nod from him. She subconsciously copied his actions before turning back to the road, engaging them in another moment of silence.

Magnolia wanted nothing more than to apologize. She felt that she always seemed to say the wrong things to him. She didn’t really know how to house anyone despite being the southern belle people assume she is because she bakes pastries at her friend’s cafe. So add not only a stranger but an alien, a hot alien that crashed into her backyard….She felt that she was owed the right to be a little confused and on edge.

She also couldn’t describe this strong pull she felt towards him. She felt this urge to care for him and be there to get him to open up some. Dev gave off this strong and intimidating aura, but she could see right through it with every little move he made. Granted, maybe everything she was thinking and feeling was the after-effects of the crash. It’s not every day something like that happens and it’s probably some reverse Stockholm syndrome. And it also could do with the fact that she was a decent human being and would always help another in need if she could But she hasn’t felt this sort of pull to anything or anyone besides Mufasa when she found him in the rain outside of work three years ago.

This entire situation was doing nothing for her lack of social cues and anxiety.

They rode the rest of the way to Uncle Leroy’s clinic in silence. Dev continued to observe everything around him, taking in all details he noted as worthy while Magnolia raced in what she would say next and whether or not it would lead to thoughts she didn’t want him to have.

Once they pulled into the parking lot of the clinic which was surrounded by other businesses, Magnolia stopped the car. “Follow me.” She said as she gathered her bag and then hopped out of the dark, unknowingly slamming the large metal behind her. Dev followed with no question, almost taking himself out as he tried to hurry after her and forgot he still had his seatbelt on. Magnolia turned around when she heard a soft strangled noise, but only saw Dev exit the car and quickly close the door behind him before fixing his clothes. She just simply shook her head, thinking it was nothing.

The bell above the door chimed as the pair walked in, Magnolia in front of him. He followed her to a small counter where he could see a woman sitting behind a computer, typing away. “Hey, Jess.” She looked up at the sound of the bell, offering a small smile to the familiar face of Magnolia, but doing a double take at the unfamiliar man behind her.

“Hey, Magnolia.” The woman said as she ceased her typing and once between the two. “What’s up with you today? You don’t have an appointment.”

“Oh, I know,” Magnolia stated nonchalantly. “I just need a walk-in for my—.” She paused mid-sentence as she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to find Dev in one of the available lobby seats, but was met with the sight of the man’s broad chest directly behind her. Her eyes quickly bounced up, catching his eyes when he looked down at her. “My friend. He’s new to…well, the country.” She added as she looked back over at the woman behind the desk, letting out a small laugh at the end. Dev looked back at the woman as well, giving her a polite smile. “Hello.” He said.

And it was as if the sound of his voice ignited something within the woman, causing her to let out a giggle as she looked at him. “Hi.” She grinned, not taking her eyes off of him. Dev blinked at her, his smile only faltering slightly at the woman’s odd behavior. Magnolia's brows twitched, looking at the woman who was no longer paying her any attention and cutting her eyes to the tall man next to her who seemed to be a little uncomfortable.

After flicking her questioning gaze between the two for only a few seconds longer, she cleared her throat. “Jess?” She said.

“Yeah?” Jess responded her eyes only momentarily leaving Dev’s figure to look over at Magnolia as she bit at her lip, trying to keep her grin at bay.

“We’re gonna go to my uncle's office, Kay?” She said, not even trying to set up a walk-in appointment anymore. She was going to lie and say the man knew she would be here but there was no point in any of that since the receptionist seemed more than occupied just staring at the man next to her.

“Yeah, sure.” Jess sighed, still looking at the man next to her. Magnolia blinked, trying to keep her words at bay as a sour feeling spread through her chest. She just gave the woman a sarcastic smile, not that she could even see it, before reaching back and grabbing ahold of Deb’s hand to pull him away.

Dev didn’t protest the feeling of the woman’s grip on him, only glancing down at the contact and up at the back of her head as she pulled him through the foggy glass door to their left. It was silent as she dragged him down the hall, passing rooms with doors open as waiting patients sat for a doctor and some closed as they convoluted over their meeting. Dev could feel the annoyance radiating off of her Magnolia as she led him through the hall of the small clinic. He couldn’t tell what had her angry, but by the way, she gripped his hand and the small frown he saw before she turned her back to him, she was a little ticked off.

She composed herself when they got to a wooden door near the end of one of the halls she led them through. The name ‘Dr.Jenkins’ was written on the foggy glass panel in gold ink and fancy writing. Dev watched as Magnolia took in a deep breath and then let it out, her eyes closed as she tried to gain a sense of herself back.

She then turned and looked up at him, trying not to jump back at the sight of his bright eyes already on her. “You ready?” She asked, her voice as soft as ever.

“Yes,” Dev said, giving her a single nod. Magnolia nodded herself before opening the door, not even caring to knock.

Her smile was large as she stepped into the room, Dev’s hands still in hers. “Hey, Uncle Leroy.” She said to the man behind the desk, who looked up at the sound of his door opening. The man had small, rectangular glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, looking over from the papers on his desk and over the frames to see them.

His face automatically broke out into a grin at the sight of the woman. “Hey, my little moon pie.” He said, his voice light and smooth with a scruffy undertone. He stood from the seat of his leather chair, and that’s when Magnolia finally let go of Dev’s hand, moving to meet the man halfway, around the large dark wooden desk, in a hug. Dev watched as she smiled largely as she wrapped her arms around the man, trying not to pay attention to the cold feeling that washed over him once her hand left his.

They rocked back and forth for a few seconds, savoring the embrace. They then pulled away from the hug with a breath, the older man looking down at the girl. “It’s been months.” The man began, a fond look on his face as she looked down at her. Magnolia let out a small sigh, looking aura from the man’s gaze. “The only time I hear from you is when I see you at church or work. We barely talk anymore.”

“I know, Lee, I know,” Magnolia said. “I’ve just been busy since..everything.” She said, sparing Dev a quick glance out of the corner of her eye when she paused. Dev caught on to what she was saying, but oddly enough he had a feeling she wasn’t alluding to him when she mentioned everything.

Her eyes cut to him and the man before her looked his way. The brown-skinned man's eyes scanned Dev up and down skeptically before his eyes drifted back to Magnolia only briefly. Magnolia avoided his eye, her lips pursed into an awkward smile as she gazed at Dev.

“Ah, so this is what’s kept you busy.” The man stated, before stepping around the woman. Magnolia gaped in shock at his words, tilting her head as she tried to decipher what he meant by that. Before she could question him, Leroy spoke back up, now standing before Dev. His shoulders were squared as he looked up at the taller man. Dev kept his ground, although he did shirk himself in slightly due to the man’s smaller but as well as intimidating stature. The younger man studied the older man before him, taking in his salt and pepper goatee that matched his small fro.

“And you must be?” Leroy said before holding out his hand. Dev placed his hand into his, each of their grips firm on the other. “I am Dev-Em, sir.” He answered. Magnolia silently winded when he said his name but quickly fixed it when Leroy furrowed his brows and glanced over at her. “Dev-Em?” He repeated back to the man, his tone giving way to his confusion.

“Deven!” Magnolia yelped, causing both men to look over at her. “Deven, you have to say your full name, silly.” She quickly added, letting out a nervous laugh as she eased her way over to stand back next to the new man in her life. Her smile was strained on her face and she hoped the facade wasn’t obvious as she placed her hand on Dev’s bicep. “Sorry about him, he’s getting used to the whole Southern Hospitality thing.” She said to Leroy as she glanced between him and the man she stood next to. Dev was confused by the ordeal taking place before him but just went with whatever the short woman next to him said. That is what she said in the car on the way over and he was following her orders.

“His name is Deven Embrose. He’s from the United Kingdom. It’s, like, a lil nickname thing they do over there.” She finished, her hand still connected to Dev’s skin, to which she gave a small pat.

Leroy nodded, placing his hands in his pockets as he gave the tall man another once over. “So I heard.” He said, giving a lowly gesture to his mouth as she referred to the other man’s accent. “I’ve met a few men from across the pond in my day.” He nodded. Magnolia let out another bout of anxious laughter, unknowingly leaning into Dev’s side more. Neither of them seemed to pay attention to the touch she was applying, but Leroy did glance between them suspiciously.

“Anyways!” Magnolia was quick to inject before more questions about Dev’s past could be asked. “I’m here because he needs a check-up.”

“A check-up?” The older man asked. “Why? What happened?” He questioned.

“Oh, nothing much.” Magnolia shrugged. “There was just…a tumble that..occurred.” She explained as nonchalantly as she could, making up a lie on the spot. Leroy furrowed his brows again, his eye dating between the close pair. His suspicions were loud and clear within his gaze, especially in the way he eyed the random man who was with someone he considered a daughter.

“A tumble?” He echoed.

“Yup,” Magnolia said. “It happened when we were moving his things in. He fell down the stairs with a large box in his hands.”

“Fell down the stairs?” Leroy questioned in shock, his eyes moving across the young man before him to gauge any serious wounds on him at such a serious incident. Magnolia was quick to interject his scurrying mind. “Not down all of the stairs! It was just a small tumble down, like, the bottom five. Right, Dev?”

“Yes.” The man replied with a firm nod.

It was silent for a moment, the younger duo standing close as they waited for the older man to speak.

Leroy just nodded, completely unsure and a little stunned by whatever was going in before him. He just subtly shook his head as he blinked. “Okay, well why don’t we just go to one of the available rooms and get this checkup started.” He said with a small grin. Magnolia nodded as she moved out of the way for Leroy to walk through and led them to the room.

Once he was out, Dev looked down at the woman who made her way out of the door before him.

“You’re..bad at this.” He murmured. Magnolia shot a look at him over her shoulder, taken back by his audacity. “What?” She said but didn’t have any time to respond before she stopped outside of the room Leroy did.

He clicked the lights on and gestured them into the space. “Have a seat.” He said as he moved over to the counters that held tons of average-grade medical equipment. The sound of rubber stretching echoed within the small room as Dev sat on the leather seat of the operation chair. The chair was pretty large but the big man that sat in it made it seem like it was made for his form. Magnolia stood near the chair, her stature putting her at the perfect height so that she didn’t have to crane her head to see Dev’s face clearly.

Her lips were pursed as Leroy turned around with gloves now on his hands and his stethoscope out of his white coat.

“Okay, now why don’t you just take a deep breath in for me.” He said as he stepped over, placing the bell of the tool on Dev’s chest. Dev did as he said, his chest lifting outwards. “Now, release.” Dev followed his instructions, breathing out. Leroy just let out a small hum before taking the tool out of his ear and hanging it on his neck. He then took out a pen-like flashlight from his coat pocket and clicked it on.

Magnolia stood off to the side, watching the whole produce as Leroy foaled the small light into Dev’s eyes, who flowed a little upon impact but did as the man instructed about where to look. Leroy stood with another hum, pocketing the pen. “Everything looks fine to me. I’d just need to run a few more tests before you can head out. Let me alert one of my nurses.” He said before stepping out briefly.

He came back only seconds later. “So, Deven.” He began in a questioning tone as he began to switch out his gloves. His cadence caused Magnolia to throw her back as she released a silent groan, her movement catching Dev’s attention. He furrowed his brows at her as he watched her go back to normal when Leroy turned back around. “What do you do?” He asked.

“Military, sir.” He stated, his eyes briefly jumping to the woman next to him, making sure he remembered their small conversation from the car. Magnolia’s brows twitched as she tried to keep them from peaking since she wasn’t all too sure if they had scrapped the whole military story in the car or not. She could’ve sworn they decided not to go with that idea. And while she was having a mini internal freakout, Leroy just nodded. “What branch?”

“The Navy.” Magnolia was quick to add since she was certain most of this wasn’t covered in their small conversation from the car ride over. “Marines, more specifically.” She nodded.

“But why are you here? In America?” The old man continued to question, not paying much mind to her interjection this time.

“I got injured.” Dev was quick to respond, taking the woman who had eased her way next to him aback. “It wasn’t severe but it caused a lot of physiological trauma so I retired. I also wanted a change of scenery and Magnolia offered to house an old friend.” He explained. Leroy’s stare was stagnant, never wavering from the man as he listened to his story. Magnolia was still quite shocked. Not only at his quick thinking but also the way her stomach fluttered at hearing the sound of her mane on his lips for the first time.

“Okay,” Leroy said. The pair just blinked at him.

“Okay?” Magnolia replied, her tone slightly questioning. “That’s it?” She asked. Leroy just nodded. “Yeah. I’ve known you a long time, so I know how careful you are. Plus, you’re a grown woman. I’m not gonna ask too many questions.” He stated. Magnolia just nodded, and she honestly didn't think she had it in her to be shocked by anything anymore. If anything, the last 24 hours have proved anything is possible.

“But I still do have to run these tests.” He said as he glanced down at his watch, just time for a nurse to push in the machine that would check his vitals and blood pressure.

It didn’t take them long before they were out of the door.

“That was stressful.” Magnolia sighed, her shoulder slightly slumped as she walked before Dev as the pair made their way back to the lobby, Leroy absent since he had an actual patients waiting on him. “I’m stressed. I need something sweet.” She groaned. She then glanced back over at the tall man behind her. “You want something sweet. Ya’ like ice cream? I could go for some ice cream.” She rambled as she opened the door that looked like the one they walked into earlier, however, this door led them out on the opposite side of where they walked into, to the right of the receptionist's desk.

“I do not know what that is,” Dev stated. Magnolia paused and turned to him, just staring at him as she tried to gauge any sight of a lie within his gaze. Seeing the plain look the man was giving her, just staring into her eyes with no questions asked, she then broke out into a grin. “Oh, Dev, sweetie, I have so much to show you.” She said, her soft southern drawl almost luring him into a trance as she placed her hand on his arm, subconsciously rubbing her thumb against his skin.

It was however broken by the sound of someone speaking.

“Hey.”

The pair both looked over at the sound of Jess’s voice, the woman’s eyes trained solely on the man in front of her. She stood from her chair, showing her dark purple scrubs as she leaned forward to the tall counter and pushed over a small card. “It’s for you.” She said, a sultry grin on her face as she didn’t hide the way she eyed the man before her. Dev’s brows spiked a little in interest, the man reaching over and picking up the small piece of paper to see it held an odd series of numbers.

Magnolia tried her best to hide the frown that began at her brows as she watched, her eyes jumping between the ever-stoic Dev and the thirsty receptionist, Jess. She didn’t know why, but she got this sour tang in the back of her throat at the sight of Jess’s obvious flirting. Whether it was the way she didn’t care to even ask more about Dev before throwing herself at him or the fact that she was doing this all on the clock, hell, even the possibility that she and Dev could be together. She couldn’t care less about the specifics when this woman was obviously throwing herself at him right in front of her.

Dev blinked at the small card before looking back up at her. “Thanks.” He said, no smile, not even a nod. He just held the white card stock up in acknowledgment. Magnolia softly scoffed before quickly turning on her heels and strutting out of the clinic, her bunch of curly hair swinging on the top of her head. Dev was quick to follow her, not even sparing the woman behind him a glance as she tried to keep up with the only thing he knew in his new life.

The bell above the door chimed as they exited the clinic, entering the blazing sun shining down on them even from under the awning. Dev could feel a source of every course through his veins as he stood in the light but didn’t have time to focus on it before he felt the small card be ripped from his hands. He watched as Magnolia ripped the paper into pieces and then pocketed the scraps. She then pulled her keys from her purse, all in silence as Dev simply watched her.

Due to the pause in the atmosphere, she looked up once she held her keys to her truck to see the man staring at her. “What? I don’t litter.” She said before turning from him and walking over to her truck.

Dev followed behind her as usual, getting inside the odd contraption as he did before. “What was that she’d given me?” He asked as he copied the way to put on the seatbelt from watching her, glancing back now and then to see if it was correct.

“Her phone number.” She replied.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the way we communicate here without being face to face. We write letters as well but that takes too long. But then again, we also have electronic letters such as emails and text, so, I don’t know.” She shrugged, her tone flat as she started the car and began to pull out. Dev nodded, taking in what she said at face value since she didn't seem too in the mood to offer more context. Something both of them didn't bother to question.

“Why did she give me her number? Aren’t you her friend?”

Magnolia scoffed, glancing over at him. “Hell no, I’m just nice to her because it’s the right thing to do. She’s just doing her job and she works for my uncle.” She shrugged again. “And she gave you her number because she don’t want nothing but to get in the drawls.” She scoffed again, her tone bridging in pissed as she gripped the steering wheel.

“What?” Dev asked full-on confusion written across his face as he looked at her, not even focused on his task of gaining information by observing his surroundings. Magnolia paused, glancing over at him to see the look he was giving her. “She wanted nothing more than to just sleep with you, Dev.” She said bluntly. “That’s why she gave you her number. So you could call, talk, flirt a little, go out, and then hook up.” She explained as if it was obvious. Dev understood most of what she was saying, but he was still sort of lost on some parts.

“Hook up? What is that, how do you hook up?” He questioned.

“Sex.” She stated. “Hooking up is sex. Mating. The act most things do to reproduce offspring.” For some reason, she had no trouble explaining such things to him. Even though it was sort of awkward because she never really had to have “The Talk”™️ ever in her life, especially with a grown man, and with the way he was staring at her so intensely. But it seemed to just flow out. This conversation would probably be their easiest because every culture and race had to have sex…right? That’s how they had to reproduce?

“Ahh.” Dev nodded once he understood what it all meant. He then frowned, as if thinking over it all now. “She wanted to mate with me? We wouldn’t even be compatible. Her genetic makeup doesn’t offer anything to mine.” He said. Magnolia squinted her eyes in thought, blinking as she registered the way he stated that in her mind. She opened her mouth to respond but came out saying nothing.

“Hey, the check-up wasn’t so bad, was it?” She chimed in after a moment of silence. Dev glanced back over at her, giving a silent nod before realizing she probably couldn’t see him. “It went well. Odd, but well.” He said. “You’re terrible at lying on the spot, though.” He added.

Magnolia opened her mouth to say something snarky at his comment, but could only let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I know. I get nervous when being put on the spot.”

“Your uncle is an interesting character.”

“Yeah, he gets that a lot. I say he’s a little nosy but he likes to call it cautious. My grandma used to blame his age but he’s been like that my whole life and I’m almost thirty.” She told, a fond grin making its way into her face as memories began to flash in her mind. Memories filled with the family she used to have and the good times she always thought of before closing her eyes at night for a good night's rest.

Dev could sense the newfound softness in her voice at the mention of her grandmother. He stared at her, watching the subtle smile grace her lips as she zoned off within the hum of the road. He wanted to question more about what seemed to be the connection between the old man and her but could tell it was a sensitive subject by every mention of her. That and whatever that small conversation between her and Leroy was before his presence was made known.

“So, you wanna try some ice cream or what?” She suddenly asked, glancing over at him. Dev simply nodded, causing her to grin as she drove to the perfect spot.

────୨ৎ────

Before he could even get to observe his surroundings, they out of the car and walking into another establishment that had a lot of windows. The bell above the door chimed again, causing him to look up. “Another bell. Why the bell?” He asked, following closely behind the woman as his senses became invaded with a plethora of smells and sounds. He blinked frantically with a small frown, trying to clear his mind of the loud noise that surrounded him.

“It alerts the staff that new customers have arrived.” He heard Magnolia’s voice speak over the chaos, and it was as if that was all he needed to snap back in. Honing in on the sound of her voice caused the other sounds around him to come to a halt, to the point where he didn’t even hear them anymore. “It gets annoying but diners tend to keep that traditional vibe for some reason.” She finished with a shrug. She gave the person behind the counter a large smile with a wave before moving her way through the diner.

The pair passed countless booths that held a variety of people, from kids who were full of sugar and agitating their parents to groups of teens who gossiped around the small devices in their hands. Dev looked around at it all while it seemed that Magnolia led them somewhere she wanted to go since some of the tables they passed were empty.

He stopped, watching her drop herself into a booth by the window, scooting in the middle of the seat. Dev followed suit, watching as she pulled the large menus from the little folder stand next to her and handed him one.

He copied her actions, looking at the variety of names in the list before him. Some held small pictures of the food next to its name, but majority of the list he had no idea what was. Except water and he wasn’t quite sure why that was on the menu since it held no price next to it.

“I have no idea what any of this is.” He spoke as he placed the menu down on the table with a little force, sort of fed up with being utterly confused by most of everything around him. Magnolia hummed, placing her menu down as well with a nod. “I figured. Are you hungry?” She asked.

“No.” He shook his head innocently, staring at her. “I ate quite a bit this morning.” Magnolia let out a small chuckle at his words. “Boy, don’t I know it. I’m gonna have to go grocery shopping this week. I mean, I know I cooked it all but usually I have leftovers.” She said. Dev looked down, his eyes darting to his hands on the table. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad at that. That he was invading her space.

Magnolia’s smile faded slightly. She reached her arm across the table, placing her smaller hand atop his large ones. “Hey,” She said in a soft tone. She tilted her head down just as he looked up at her call, connecting his bright-colored eyes with hers. “I’m just pokin’ fun.” She stated with a mere grin. “I’m happy to have you in my home. I know have someone who can respond to the nonsense that I say.” She chided, causing him to let out a small chortle.

“You do talk a lot.” He stated nonchalantly. Magnolia blinked at his words. “Okay, ouch.” She said, but her smile was still there to let her know she wasn’t actually hurt by his words. Their small bonding moment was then interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up to them.

“Who comes to work on their day off?” The smooth voice of a familiar man spoke up, causing the pair to look over. A large smile instantly broke out into Magnolia’s features while she looked up at the man who made his way over to them, her hand unknowingly sifting away from Dev’s, that cold feeling enveloping him again just as it did at Leroy’s clinic.

“Someone who loves their job,” Magnolia said, looking up at him as he stopped in front of their table. The man rolled his eyes at her, pulling a notepad out of his coat jacket. “Yeah, whatever, kiss-ass. You just got a raise out of me. You’re not getting another this soon.” He said as he flipped the pad and pen in his hands.

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m kissing ass, G.” She said, causing them both to let out a small laugh. The man’s gaze then drifted to Dev, who eyed the obviously familiar pair with a subtly arched brow. The stranger held out his hand, his gold watch peaking from underneath the expensive brown suit he had on, the man standing out against the rest of the diner. “Giorgio Clarance, nice to meet you.” He introduced himself.

Dev placed his hand into his, both of their grips firm as they stared at one another. “Deven Embrose.” He said, speaking the name Magnolia made up earlier. It felt weird coming off of his tongue, unnatural. He just hoped Giorgio couldn’t tell.

The overdressed man hummed at his words. “Around the way type of guy, I see.” He said with a nod. “Cool.” He stated simply, giving the man a plain once over before directing his attention back to Magnolia. Dev furrowed his brows at the man’s dismissal of him, one that was a little hostile with the look he was just given. He tried not to read much into it, but he couldn’t help but question if he felt that Giorgio was throwing at him.

“He’s my boss,” Magnolia spoke up, seeing the questioning look on Dev’s face, thinking that’s what he was questioning. “He owns this place.”

“And others,” Giorgio added with a smirk.

“And others,” Magnolia repeated in a stupid tone, playfully rolling her eyes at him. Dev's eyes jumped between them. He nodded at what Magnolia told him “I’m a chef. Well, a baker.” She stated. Dev's eyes gleamed at that, and he was about to say something to her about her occupation before Giorgio cut in.

“A Chef.” He retorted firmly, looking down at her with a small frown. “What did I tell you about cutting yourself short? You are a chef.” He said, and Magnolia softly rolled her eyes at him again, looking down at her hands, though she couldn’t hide the soft smile on her face at his words.

“All I know how to really do is bake.” She said softly, looking up at Dev as if she was answering him. He could only offer her a polite smile back before her eyes drifted away and toward the man who stood next to them.

“You make amazing pastries for two a five start restaurants.” At this point, he had leaned down, slightly holding his weight on the table with his hands so he could be closer to Magnolia. Magnolia looked him in the eye, her face as neutral as it could be due to his praise. As if this proximity for them was normal as if they did this all the time and were fine. Dev, on the other hand, was not fine. He raised his hands from the table, leaning his back against the cushion leather seat of the booth. His brows twitched into a frown, staring the at side of the man’s head as his view of Magnolia was almost blocked. Almost.

“In the diner, you may be the baker, but at Augusto’s Chevalier, you’re a chef.” He explained, never once taking his eyes off the woman next to him. “You think they differentiate all that back there in that kitchen?” Magnolia squinted her eyes at him with a slight tilt of her head.

“They literally do?…in every kitchen.” She said, understanding the point her good friend was trying to make but also not seeing how a restaurant business mogul didn’t know such a thing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said with a shrug as he waved her off playfully.

She rolled her eyes at him again. “Are you gonna take our order or not Mr. Hotshot?” She asked with a playful smirk, looking at the man decked in a nice suit and gold jewelry whose face stood only a few feet away from hers. She caught sight of Dev’s bright eyes next to his briefly, staring at her intensely. She felt a chill run down her spine at the gaze, but her eyes never directly met his.

“No, actually. I just came to speak.” He said to her with a small smile. He then turned his head, giving the man next to them a sideways glance and another once-over. He let out a dry chortle that was barely audible before rising from his relaxed position to stand fully. “This is just for show.” He said, gesturing to the pen and paper he’d gathered from his large blazer.

“Good, because we’re not even ready to order,” Magnolia said. Giorgio just hummed with a nod, giving her face one last good look. “It was nice seeing you, Magnolia.” He practically purred, his eyes trained on her face. Magnolia nodded at his words. “It was nice seeing you again too, G.” She said, giving him a soft smile. Giorgio couldn’t help but smile at the name, his perfect teeth showing as he looked at her, gleaming in contrast to his chocolate skin. He blinked before his gaze drifted to the other man at the booth. He nodded his head down at Dev before walking away from them, passing by Magnolia.

Dev sat there, watching the man leave their table. He didn’t even offer a nod back to Giorgio. He just stayed in place, a stone-cold look on his face, even when Giorgio glanced back at Magnolia with a smirk, said woman eyeing the menu. His eyes drifted to Dev’s, his grin turning more sinister before leaving his eyesight.

“Not gonna lie, I could go for a butter pecan.” He was snapped out of his trance at the sound of the woman mumbling to herself. “I’m definitely getting up there because I used to hate that shit.” She let out a small chortle of herself. Dev’s gaze moved across her form, not speaking as he continued to think about the interaction between Giorgio and Magnolia. “I never had pistachio, maybe I should try that.” She said, continuing her search, unbeknownst of the watching eyes she had on her.

She then looked up, slightly shaken to see the man’s gaze on her already but didn’t speak on it. “I’m gonna start you off simple with a waffle cone and some chocolate ice cream. I know vanilla is more basic, but I said simple, not plain.” She stated, waving her finger about as she explained the rundown to him, her abundance of jewelry clinging about. “But don’t get me wrong, I love a good vanilla. Especially a homemade one? Tuh! Word around town is your girls makes the best.”

“I think Giorgio wants to hook up with you.”

Magnolia’s head jerked back at Dev’s statement as her smile dropped. “What?” Her face contorted between confusion and disgust but also a little bit of intrigue as she tried to gather what Dev saw. “No, I’m positive he does not.” She said, letting out a nervous laugh at what her newfound friend said.

“He was acting a little like Jess.” Dev continued, not taking his eyes away from the woman in front of him. “Just a little different.”

“That’s just how we interact here.” She said softly, sitting forward more in her seat to lean closer to him as she began to explain. “He’s technically my boss and I’m his worker. In today’s time, to create a more healthy work environment, bosses tend to be friendly to their staff so what they’re doing isn’t considered slave labor.” She said letting out a small chuckle. “That and so their bond is somewhat like a work family and that there’s a trust put into everything said company produces.” She explained. She then worked her head, looking him in the eye. “We’re just friends.” She said softly. “Barely even that, we’ve never even gone out for a beverage.”

“He looks at you a lot,” Dev continued to comment, his face still the same even though this warm feeling spread through him at the way she was gazing at him over the table. He had subconsciously leaned forward in his seat and against the table, the pair sitting closer to one another.

“That’s what we do here. Eye contact is expected in most settings.” She said, her eyes stuck on his. They were practically whispering now, faces sort of close as they leaned across the table. “I mean, look at us now. I look at you, you look at me.”

“That is because we are having a conversation.”

“Were me and Giorgio not having a conversation?”

“Yes, but even when you weren’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Everywhere.”

“You look at me all the time.” Magnolia was quick to add to their small and somewhat silent argument, ignoring the last part about Giorgio’s eyes drifting over her figure when she wasn’t looking.

“I am observing because I am new here. What’s his excuse?” Dev added with a small tilt of his head. Magnolia let up a quick gasp at his words, looking him up and down. “Oh, you’re a little sassy when you want to be.” She said with a playful grin. Dev’s face stayed stoic, causing her to let out a small laugh. “Dev, relax and pick out an ice cream door before it gets dark out.” She said, jerking her head out of the window at the cloud-covered sun. “I hate driving in the dark.” She said softly before going back to her menu.

Dev blinked at her before looking down at his menu in front of him, both still leaned forward on the table as they observed what they were going to have.

His mind was clouded, full of questions and thoughts regarding not only the ones Ms out of his new life, it whatever was going on between Giorgio and Magnolia. Dev was no stranger to emotions, as oddly as he acted about them. He’d never really felt such staring emotions about anyone, not even his intended, but he’s seen those who have. And he could see that there were feelings between the two, even if it was one-sided. And something was telling him that Giorgio was the one that fancied her more, which caused this acidic feeling to enter the back of his throat and made his face want to contort into a scowl.

Giorgio rubbed him the wrong way and it’s not just because he’s into Magnolia. Although, Dev wasn’t quite sure why that last part bothered him more.

Magnolia on the other hand was simply a little confused. This had been the first time anyone had ever told her such a thing about her and Giorgio. Although they weren’t friends who went out anywhere, they’ve been around and conversed with others, and nothing of the sort has ever come up. She didn’t know what Dev saw, or if she could even trust his judgment since he was new to earth and e everything.

What bothered her most was that she wasn’t sure if she disliked the thought of Giorgio liking her. It was her boss after all and that wouldn’t be good for business, so she was more than likely never going to outside anything, but she couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man. A wealthy attractive man with a Brooklyn accent that dressed well. To Magnolia, he was a city boy through and through, and that intrigued her southern little behind. He was no blue-collar man, but she wasn’t picky and didn’t necessarily have a type. She was just used to one thing. All that to say is it were true, she wouldn’t mind hopping on the ride.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Dev’s speaking.

“I don’t want to hook up with Jess either.” He said, causing her to look and connect their eyes. “Ever.” He finished. Magnolia blinked in confusion before simply nodding. “Okay.” She said before looking back down at her menu. Dev frowned, looking at the top of her head.

“And you don’t want to hook up with Giorgio, right?” He questioned. Magnolia let out a small laugh before looking back up at him. “No, I do not, Dev.” She said softly, looking into his eyes, which were now a soft green. Even though she sort of contradicted her previous thoughts, she was telling the truth, she didn’t necessarily want to hook up with him. Dev’s eyes jumped between hers, trying to see if he could almost sense a lie from her. He then blinked with a nod. “Good.” He said, looking at her intensely before going back to his menu. Magnolia frowned in confusion at him in what he meant by that but was cut off by Dev speaking again.

“When do we get this ice cream? Where is it coming from?” He asked, looking over his shoulder as he observed the thing in the diner. Magnolia pursed her lips, watching him.

“There's so much you have to learn, honeybun, so when we get home, we’re watching movies.” She said. “There’s only so much I can do for you, sweet pea.” She said as she shook her head with a sad smile.

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[dpspcehntr]

In the spirit of being premenstrual and irritable, what do you think would be the cause of the LaDS and MCs first serious argument and who would snap first?

For Zayne, I believe it would be MC getting injured and Zayne being fed up with her "reckless" behaviour fighting wanderers. Even though he knows how capable they are, it's borne out of worry.

Xavier is so chill, I can't imagine him being angry even if MC gives him a Pennywise makeover while he snoozes and says nothing as he walks down the street looking like nightmare material. What would set him off, though? MC eats the last hotpot?

Sylus would snap because MC threatened to set him on fire one too many times lol

And Rafayel... The clouds aren't the right shape? MC cuddled her plushies more than she hugged him? The list of possibilities are endless with this dramatic fish boy, but what would make him really angry and not just pouty?

Hello again friend! Arguments with the boys I feel are rare, mostly because all of them seem to communicate well for the most part. Take all of this with a grain of salt as I am not an expert!

Zayne is kind of a no brainer. The first serious argument would be over MC’s reckless behavior during a mission. It would start as a stern “talking” to as MC’s doctor to which MC just blows him off. It would turn into a major fight because MC does’t take how serious the situation could’ve been. I don’t think it reached screaming match but the folks at the hospital do start to worry about the tone of his and MCs voices. Obviously Zayne is going to continue to be concerned for her health so she instead has to do a bit of work to understand where he’s coming from and be nicer when he does lecture her on her health.

Xavier is a tricky one cause I don’t think the thought of an argument is even possible for him. If anything it’s MC who is upset with something and lashes out. It’s because of his easy going nature that makes MC even angrier. Eventually they talk it out but yea an argument between these two will be because he hardly ever expresses his own emotions and goes for soothing and problem solving first.

Sylus would have an argument with MC about not taking the dangers of the N109 zone seriously. It would be something MC sees as not that deep but he would be quite upset at how little she cares about her well-being. Again not a yelling fit but you both don’t speak to each other for a few days after. Eventual apologies occur and then a discussion on how dangerous the N109 zone really is and reaching an agreement where MC can protect herself but not be smothered by Sylus’ need to be in control.

Rafayel early into his relationship with MC would have some small disagreement that he just harbors on for a while. He just kinda disappears for a few days and when he does resurface the issue has only gotten bigger. It would be a very tense and heated conversation for quite a while before both of them come to an understanding. After that, they both bring anything that bothers them to each other right away and hash it out.

Yea this stuff is not my forte but I tried 😭! I love angst but I’m so bad at it. I hope I did this some justice!

My ask box is open! Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS main 4! I might even write some of them up!

[hope-drunk]

HARVEST MOON

| a year ago, abby left you suddenly after a month long love affair. now she's back to convince you she's changed.

| cw: me writing southern accents and it's bad, talk of father death, jerry anderson is homophobic, talk of food, reader showers three times in this who knows why, f!reader, oral & fingering (r!recieving), petnames, umm that's it but like abandonment issues i guess? abby like dips hard LOL

| wc: 3.8k

The mugginess hasn’t let up in recent days, causing your hair to look a mess, and you to have a strong urge to be naked all the time. Getting comfortable in your bed was a pain. The sheets were too hot; the pillow pushing your sticky hair onto the back of your neck. You don’t think you’ve gotten a good night's sleep in ages. The fans in your room weren’t doing much; nothing could battle this southern heat.

You were already awake before your alarm went off at 6 A.M. You quickly silence the screeching sound of the clock and roll out of bed, throwing on a loose tank top that lays on your floor. You’re instantly annoyed by the fabric but try to push it off. You stroll into your kitchen, opening the fridge and standing there for a few seconds to absorb the cold air that blows out. You grab some scraps of breakfast and eat quickly, already running a tad behind because the heat is making you move slower. 

You go to the bathroom and take off the flimsy tank top and your panties. You step in immediately and let the cold water wash over you. Your shower goes faster than you wanted it to, but you step out and dry off. You don’t bother to dry your hair, hoping that the dampness might keep you cooled off for a little bit longer. You get dressed in your usual attire, a self cut tank top made out of an old t-shirt and jean shorts.

You walk to the field behind your house, first checking on the chickens, collecting the eggs the hens dropped and making sure they have food. Then you moved to the sheep, replacing their water and giving them their feed. 

After you think the animals are situated, you begin your walk into town. It’s summer days like these where you wish you owned a car, or even a bike. But in a town this small, it always seemed useless. Everything was a five minute walk. The only thing that was further than five minutes was the gas station that sat on the edge of town near the highway, and that was only about a ten minute walk. Your journey to the grocery store feels like it takes eons. But when you open the door and the air conditioning blasts you, you think you see heaven.

“Hot one, huh?” The store clerk says to you in response to your sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it,” you say, smiling politely and walking to grab a basket.

You take your time with your shopping, swinging the green basket against your leg over and over while you scan the aisles. You spend extra long in the freezer section, and decide to treat yourself to some popsicles, you put them in the basket and let the door close by itself. You don’t notice the pair of strong arms that are crossed by the door. 

You turn away to go get your next item, “Not even gonna say hello?”

Your head whips around before your body does. You gulp at the realization of who it is.

“Popsicles, huh,” she nods to herself, grabbing the box out of your basket. “Didn’t know you liked these ones, darlin’.”

You snatch them out of her hand and throw them back into the green plastic, “You don’t know anythin’ about me, Abby.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Abby’s voice drips like southern honey, but it reminds you of gasoline. One spark from you and the town would be on fire. 

You don’t answer her, just go back to your shopping. You scan the shelves for the next thing on your list. You can see her out of the corner of your eye still following you around, but you don’t pay her any mind. It’s honestly a shame, because you were gonna spend your sweet time in the air conditioned store, and now you can’t, because Abby decided to show up.

You remember now that it was exactly a year ago today that she showed up in town before leaving a month later with no warning. She had seemed so perfect, so normal, you’d never felt like that before with anyone. You let her stay in your house. She was planning on just passing through, staying the night at the motel for the festivities then going on her way, but she told you you changed her mind. Abby told you that she wanted to stay and be with you. What a load of bullshit. 

You finish your shopping, continuing to ignore Abby as she trails behind you, in her stupid t-shirt, with her stupid muscles, and her ridiculous boots. 

“This all for y’then?” The cashier asks.

“That’ll do it.” You reply, pulling out the cash you’re using to pay. 

You take your bags and thank him, rushing towards the doors and pushing one of them open with your back. 

Abby stops at the clerk to get her brand of cigarettes; running out behind you after she pays with a crinkled up ten dollar bill.

“Hey! What’s the rush?” She says, rushing up to you. She smacks the pack of cigarettes on her palm before opening it and popping one into her mouth; swiftly lighting it with a blue lighter.

“Don’t wanna see you, Abs. Thought you would be able to figure that out.” You say, silently hoping that that will be enough for her and that she’ll turn around and never come back to your town. But Abby, ever so stubborn, continues walking next to you.

“What? You still mad about last summer? Told you I had to go.”

You scoff at her. “Yeah, then you also told me you were never gonna leave me. Wanted to help raise my chickens and sheeps. Live in my house with me. Start a life here. Look, I don’t have time for this; too goddamn hot to deal with your bullshit.”

She nods her head; takes a long drag of the almost gone cigarette. “‘Least let me carry your bags?”

That you oblige to, handing over the heavy plastic bags that you swear were getting sticky from the heat. You just wanted to be home, with your fans, and your animals; without Abby. You didn’t even want her to see the inside of your house. You didn’t want her to be in the four walls of your bedroom again; it would be painful for you. To see her in your house again, where she made you all those promises. It would be painful because now you know that all you were to her was a quick fuck and a free place to stay.

Your house comes into view and you pause in the road, motioning your hands so she’ll give you your bags back. She does reluctantly, and you can’t help but notice the droplet of sweat dripping down her large muscles. You huff away the memories, taking the bags back and walking up to your front door.

“Not even gonna invite me in? No lemonade for my hard work?” Abby asks, trying to make light of the situation.

“I seriously never want to see your face again, Abigail.” With that you open your door, slinking in and closing it behind you.

You press your back to the door once you’re inside; willing yourself not to cry about her. You’ve done enough of that; swear you could fill an ocean with your tears. You know that you shouldn’t get so worked up over something that lasted a month, but it was the first real thing you’ve ever had. It’s not like there were any other women who liked women around here, so when Abby rolled in and made you all those promises, you thought you had actually found something. You thought you would be able to start a life with her and do all the things you’ve dreamed about doing since you were a little girl. Then, she was up and gone, and you were left alone again.

It took you a while to get used to your solitude again, and you were doing a damn good job at it now. Sometimes you wonder if it was even Abby you missed, or if you just missed having someone to do everything with. You try to stop thinking about it, forcing your body off the door and into the kitchen. You slowly put all the groceries away, scared that when you finish your mind will wander. 

You do pretty good for the rest of the day. You keep yourself entertained and busy, tending to your animals and reading a book. You only think about Abby a few times, but are able to brush it off. You think you’ve got it under control; you think that her little visit didn’t affect you. Once it hits around 7 P.M. you huddle the animals into their respective cages and barns. You go back inside and take another quick cold shower. It’s hard work herding those animals, and even though the sun is getting lower, it’s not getting any less humid. You dry off and put on fresh clothes, walking out into your kitchen to prepare your dinner. 

What you don’t expect to hear is a knock at your door. You silently question it before waking up to the door swinging it open; prepared to tell off some church people who just won’t stop trying. But there she stands. Abby has a bouquet of assorted carnations and daisies, a few roses thrown into there. You cross your arms, waiting for her to speak.

“Will you please let me explain? Please? Just a few minutes and you can decide if you want me to really go or not.”

“I’m timing you.” You say, walking back into your house and sitting down on your couch.

Abby moves into your living room. She’s changed from what she wore at the store. She now has on jeans and a black cut off tank top and her same signature braid.

“I’m gonna try not to stumble over my words– been preparing for this. I loved being here with you, first of all. Leaving you was never because of you. My dad got real sick, the type where you go and say goodbye. He had been in and out of the ICU around that time, but, when I got that phone call, swear I could feel it in my bones that that was it.”

You straighten out your back. You knew a little bit about Abby’s dad. Mostly that they were very close until she came out to him.

“And I didn’t know how to tell you. Didn’t know how to tell anyone. I wish I could’ve ignored it and stayed with you but I just–” she shakes her head to herself.

“He’s your dad.”

“Yeah, he was my dad.”

The past tense makes you let out a sigh, suddenly your heart breaks for the girl all over again. You will your brain to remember what she did. You feel bad that she lost her dad, but she could’ve communicated.

“I’m sorry, Abby. But, you still had no right to leave me like you did.”

“I know, I know. I got scared. I knew if I stayed with you that– he wouldn’t see me. I could have handled it better. I had every intention of coming back sooner than now, but I felt like you wouldn’t wanna see me.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know how this is supposed to work. All I know is that everything I told you is true. I miss living here. I hate running around the country anymore. I just wanna be here with you. Herd your fucking sheep and collect the eggs. Have you make me that killer omelet that I love. I miss you, all of you. Didn’t know what I wanted a year ago, but I do know. I’d like to be with you, if you’d have me.”

You try to process all that she’s saying; try to take in the massive amount of information she’s dumped into your hands. You just stare past her, straight at the wall. Do you want her to come back? You did– a few days ago when you were crying about being lonely. You don’t want to forgive her this easily though. What? A few words and an explanation and she’s just allowed in your house again? Hell no, there’s no way in hell that she can just creep back in here. What if she leaves again? Are you gonna embarrass yourself like that all over again?

“Abby…” you trail off, unsure of what to actually say to her.

“I know. I don’t want to be the victim here, and I’m sorry if I’m making it seem that way. I just want you to know that, it really, really, wasn’t your fault.”

“Thanks for that, cowboy.” She smiles at the nickname, you do too. Her long history of speedrunning through small towns made you come up with it. “Alright, well, you can stay for dinner. But, I have the right to kick you out at any time.”

“Yes ma’am,” she says. 

You start to make her favorite meal from you with ingredients you bought today. She keeps you entertained, staying out of your way but talking your ear off. It feels normal; it feels like old times. You can’t help but let her ease her way back into your space. She takes off her boots, undoes her braid and puts it up into a bun. You ask her to get you something and she knows exactly where it is. It feels too simple. Honestly, it feels like a dream. You feel like you’re floating through this strange reality where Abby never left and you’ve kept living in this home ever since she showed up this time last year.

You eat dinner at the table in the spots you always sat in. Continuing the laughter and the fun. You don’t even mind the heat anymore. You don’t care about anything other than Abby’s gray eyes staring back into yours. You get shy under her gaze all over again. When you’re both done, you can’t get up from the table, you get too invested in your conversation and neither of you want to disrupt it. You wish you could’ve kept your stoic face on, but Abby was something else. She always has been. She’s the only one who’s ever made you feel truly comfortable with yourself, in this town. Finally, you get up and take the plate from in front of her, moving it to the sink.

“That’s not what happened, and you know it.” Abby practically yells.

“I mean, I watched you fall in the sheep shit myself. Y’trying to gaslight me, Anderson?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t fall in the shit. I’m saying that what you’re saying led me to the sheep shit is wrong. I wasn’t looking at your ass and then tripped. I was– looking at the sign on top of the barn.”

“Well, your eyes were awfully low to be looking at the top of the barn.” You shrug your shoulders with a small giggle.

Abby waves her hand in the air, a small blush on her face from the memory of the second time she came to your house. 

“I missed you a lot, y’know.” Abby says, mostly under her breath.

When you look at her, she’s looking up at you through her eyelashes. Her chest rising and falling steadily. She sits with her legs slightly spread and her elbows on her thighs. Those strong fucking thighs. You thought you could get along with her as friends; you thought that’s what she wanted– to be friends now. 

You look away from her so you don’t give in. “Abby, I don’t know if I can.” 

“I’m here. I’m here again; it’ll be good, like it was before.”

“That’s what you said before you left. ‘I’m here for you. Never gonna leave you, sweetheart. You’ll never be alone again.’ Then I was. I was the loneliest I’d ever been. I don’t blame you for leaving, Abby. But I can’t take it if you leave again.”

Abby gets up from the table and walks over to you. She towers over you, grabbing your face between her hands and forcing you to look at her. “Not gonna leave you. Ever. I learned my fucking lesson. Feel like I need you to breathe. Like my chest was tight the entire time I was out of this goddamn town. Swear, the second I pulled in, I felt my lungs fill up for the first time in a fucking year. Please, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let y’down again.”

Her chest is moving more rapidly now. It’s hard to look in her eyes. She hasn’t taken hers off of you. “I swear.”

You push your lips up so they reach hers; she sighs into the kiss, hastily taking her hands away from your face and wrapping them around your body. You push her back away from the kitchen and towards the bedroom. She doesn't break the kiss once as she walks backwards, avoiding any and all furniture; like she’s always known where everything is. In a way she has, but it’s still impressive. A whole fucking year without her in your house and she still moves swiftly around the furniture towards your bedroom. She moves like it’s built in her bones; like she’s always meant to be here.

You enter the bedroom and she breaks away only to shove your discarded clothes that lay on your bed onto the floor. You rip your shirt off in the meantime, you were going to take off your shorts too, but Abby is back on you in a second. Kissing everywhere; licking everywhere. You don’t think your heart has ever beat faster. It’s scary how well she knows you. Just like the house, she still has every part of your body memorized. She still knows the spot below your collarbones that makes your hips buck. She knows how much rubbing the outside of your thigh while she kisses you turns you on. She knows that you need the anticipation built before you go straight into fucking. Abby knows you. 

She slides down your stomach, mouthing at the skin there, you push her head down, trying to get her to take the hint that you haven’t been laid in a year and you’re worked up enough. She scoffs into you and continues kissing you. A whine escapes your mouth, and she finally moves to where you need her. You lift your hips up while she removes your shorts and panties.

She starts to rub tight circles onto your clit, eyes connected to your face; waiting for you to look back at her. You don’t. You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to overthink the situation you’ve found yourself in. With every circle on your clit your head grows fuzzier, making this feel more and more like a dream.

“Not gonna leave you.” Abby says, like she can read your mind. “Never leaving your side again. You’re gonna be fucking sick of me, angel.”

You moan; open your eyes to take her all in. All you can manage is a nod. Abby growls and takes away her hand. You go to gasp, but in seconds she’s connected her tongue to your clit. You moan now, a sound deep from your chest that blossoms like a flower fed fertilizer. You forgot how good Abby was at this. The good memories pushed to the back of your mind. You’ve only been able to focus on her leaving for so long. The only thing you think about is waking up to that empty bed. 

She grunts into your cunt, “Missed how you fucking taste. S’goddamn sweet, princess.”

She’s here now, you remind yourself. She’s here forever. You’re sure the doubt will creep in at some point. You’re sure you’ll be scared to sleep next to her for a while. But right now, this is all that matters; her tongue drawing intricate shapes into you. You push your hand on top of her head.

“Don’t leave me,” you pant out.

Abby removes her mouth and pushes two thick fingers into you, forcing your back to arch off the bed. She moves up to your face, “Y’forget how to listen, doll? Gotta train you t’be my good girl again, huh? I ain’t leaving, never again. Got that?” 

You forgot how bad her accent gets when she’s turned on. 

“Answer me, tell me I’m gettin’ through that thick skull of yours.”

“Yes, Abby. I understand.”

“There y’go, sweet thing. Just lay back and take it.”

You do as she asks, finding it easy to fall back into submission under her. Your brain is basically blank by now, only focusing on the slow pull and push of Abby’s fingers inside of you. You moan and whine and buck your hips. Not scared to be messy or annoying. You’re not scared of anything in front of Abby. She loves you, you know it. She takes you how you are. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna– last long.” You say.

“That’s alright, so pent up, ain’t you? Let it all go for me. Let it all out.” She reconnects her mouth with your cunt and you know that you’re in for.

You feel the knot get tighter and tighter in your stomach. It feels like fire is spreading across your body. You feel a bead of sweat fall from Abby’s forehead onto you, and it gets to you. She’s real; she’s back. She’s eating you out and making you cum the way only she knows how to. The small band holding your orgasm back snaps. You cum with a sob, bucking your hips into her face so your clit brushes up into her nose. You start to cry from the pressure that was built up in you that’s finally being released. Abby works you through it, lets you grind on her face and you swear you can feel her smile into you.

She comes up to lay beside you when you finally stop twitching; shushing you when she removes her fingers.

“Missed seein’ you like that.”

“Bet you did,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Missed seein’ you in general, but the way you look when you cum, man. Ain’t nothing like it.”

You suddenly feel embarrassed by the crude talk, you roll over away from her and face your closet. She whispers a few sorry’s before using her arms to roll you back over and pull you into her chest. She kisses the top of your head. 

“It’s so hot I might die.” You say into her, tracing a shape on her chest.

“Wanna shower?” 

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.”

[tmbgareok]

My new band consists of two strange girls, and we are thinking of playing to a prerecorded tape machine rhythm track. Do you have any advice or thoughts about the format?

JF: well, it's your project so the general things I would say is do what is interesting to you, and is the boldest expression of your ideas. Pay more attention to what you do well and less to what is happening on the immediate scene. People might say they are into some trend or sound, but as a friend of mine once said "people don't know they want to be surprised." Take advantage of all the ways you can approach stuff (and as I will explain--don't fear getting really small)

___

Okay on to the specifics of working with a track or drum machine.

We had an advantage in that we both sang, and we both played instruments that could be rhythm or melody instruments, and contrasting the possibilities there really helped keep things dynamic.

Our evolution as a band working with tape was pretty simple. We started with pretty elaborate tracks with a lot of varied sounds thinking the sonic range would drive the audiences experience, but over time found it was more effective to just have bass and drums on tape--really pare things down as to not take away from the stuff we were doing live. (there were irresistible exceptions of course, but it did really get pretty spare.)

Although it never felt too too close, I think our approach even from the beginning was always kinda negatively informed by "track acts" (the promo shows in nightclubs and discos where singers would jump on stage or by the DJ and sing over--or in some cases along--with their record or some remixed version of their record) Although this was all before Milli Vanilli, there was a general notion that these performances were too canned, so we were informed by that, and tried to keep as much action going in our own playing as possible.

I would also say, make your track or computer set up small, simple and as completely bullet-proof as possible. Although home computing and MIDI were just emerging when we started, there were sequencing boxes in the world and other musicians did suggest we would benefit from diving into those formats for our live show, but sync issues and general instability just made the tape seems more reliable/durable.

You also should have a plan b and maybe even a plan c for when you have the inevitable technical issue. (like a shiny a cappella or other unaccompanied number you might be saving for a second encore but is available to pull out that really shines) When the Fates pulled the rug on your act, the audience will be forever grateful that you anticipated this and can keep your show moving forward. (In fact meeting this kind of challenge is inevitably the highlight of this kind of show--because ultimately folks are always rooting for YOU, not the track!)

Finally, while working with tape or MIDI is easy and reliable and wonderfully affordable, and certainly a charming kind of show in a small venue, it might not scale! So when your act blows up and you are playing theaters, don't let the format define you--get a great backing band!

[miirohs]

braid my hair while i hold your heart [m.d.l]

pairing: OPLA!Monkey D. Luffy x Fem!Reader wc: 0.4k cw: n/a an: another one for yall thirsties, i feel oddly inspired. getting hair in ur eyes is a very real issue btw- have i mentioned how much i want to see how fluffy luffys hair could get?

You leaned against the railing of the crows nest, breeze blowing strands of hair from your face.

The sky was a pale blue and orange as the sun seem to fall closer to the horizon, glare skipping across the gentle waters. The boat was drifting, oddly quiet for once.

"Y/n!"

The sound of elastic snapping turned you around, Luffy standing on the rail. In his hands was a bouquet, flowers shining and vibrant in the setting sun. You had no time to ask what they were, as he dropped them, rushing to you.

"Luffy-" Before you could finish, he rushed into your open arms, sweeping you into a bone crushing hug. Spinning around, you both collapsed to the floor, pinned down on your sides.

"Hey- Hey! What's all that for?! You're suffocating me!" You laughed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. You rolled over him and pinned him down, blowing raspberries.

He didn't seem the least bit surprised though. The rough-housing wasn't uncommon, his way of initiating contact between the both of you.

His hands were wrangled up in your hair, a delighted look on his face as he clutched at small strands, curling them around his finger. The sun seemed to reflect in his eyes, lighting up with joy.

He always seem to find a way to brush his finger through your hair, untangling the knots with a gentleness you could only describe as familiar.

"You really like playing with my hair, don't you?" you asked, a playful grin on your face.

He nodded, pushing you off him so that he could sit up.

"Do you want me to do your hair? your hair gets so tangled from the wind, i wonder how you manage to work with it blowing crazy." He exclaimed as you got pushed yourself back up, shaking your head.

"Sure thing. One question though, do you know how to do braids?" You asked, picking at your nails as he shuffled behind you.

"Mmm, nope. I'm sure i could figure it out though."

"I'll leave you to it then," You said, legs dangling out the gaps of the crows nest as you looked down.

You could hear him mumbling to himself as he tried different techniques, and the occasional tug of your hair making you yelp a little, always ending with a hushed apology from him.

If it weren't for those little tugs, you might have fallen asleep, drifting in between sleep and staying awake. Eventually, you leaned against the wooden planks, drifting off for good.

It wasn't until a little while later that you were gently roused from your peaceful half-slumber.

The sun had set for good, and the sky was a pale shade of blue and orange, streaked with clouds.

Luffy now sitting beside you, looking out at the horizon. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, and he seemed lost in thought.

"Hi Luffy."

He turned his head to look at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Hey, Y/n, you were sleeping pretty soundly there. Feel better now?"

"Mmm. Did you finish yet?" You stifled a yawn, stretching wide.

"Yeah! “Hey- hey turn around for me, let me see you!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands. You obliged, turned your head as you gave a bashful smile.

"See, you look perfect.”

"Perfect, huh?" you chuckled, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"Yeah! The flowers were definitely a good touch. You look like a sea princess now! Wait, maybe you could be my sea queen when i become king of the seas!" He rambled as you reached over for what was left of the flowers.

"Where'd you get these? These are beautiful," You whispered, holding one in your hand to get a better whiff of its scent.

Luffy snapped his fingers, excitedly waving his hands. "Nami saw them on the island, and I thought they looked like they'd make you smile."

"Thank you Luffy, so much," You whispered shyly.

"You're welcome, Y/n! I'm glad you like them. And if you want more flowers, just let me know. I'll get you a whole garden!" He exclaimed.

His eyes seemed illuminated by the stars, shining and glazed over as he watched your expression closely.

"Oh no, are you going to cry? Did i do something wrong?" He fretted.

"Nope, i'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. We should probably go to bed."

"Lets just sleep here then!" He patted the spot next to him, and you crouched down, grinning.

"Alright, but you better not mess up my hair."

"I won't, promise!"

[junedenim]

i want to stay with you, my love

the consequence of having roommates

warnings: smut, age gap, fingerfucking & stuff

word count: 2.5k

It was convenient small talk. Two strangers leaving a party at the same time. The elevator rattles. The building is old. He's old. Well, older. It's unhealthy, daddy issues labeled by some, predatory by others. But he's quiet and cute and he wore a button-up to a party most people wore a T-shirt too—unless you were old like him.

You weren't. I mean, women always tend to put more effort into these kinds of things than men. Most women at the party look like they came from a business meeting or a strip club. You likely fell into the latter. Your coat, a long tweed thing, concealed that fact. It masked you as one of those professionals.

You know he's looking over. He isn't good at hiding these things, most men aren't. They're sleazy and like women to know when they're disgustingly ogling at them. This guy's shyness is endearing. You noticed it when you were the only two people in the hallway waiting for the elevator. Eyes darting over but always facing forward when you looked over. Now, in the elevator, he continues this behavior.

"Going home for the night?" You ask.

He looks over as if unsure you're speaking to him like he isn't the only other human in this tiny elevator. "No," he answers, "headed out for a smoke." British. Interesting and not done since your study abroad semester in London. "You?" His eyebrows are still raised. He's definitely interested. 

"Headed home." You smile. The elevator hits the bottom floor.

He looks down at his watch. You giggle to yourself. What man still owns a watch and actually checks it for the time? "At 10:30? You're either the saddest or the wisest person here tonight." He's smirking, peering down at you as the metal doors open.

Neither of you makes a move to exit the elevator. You smile and look up at him through your eyelashes. "Indulge me and say the wisest." You walk out first but wait for him to join you so you can leave the apartment building together.

"Alright." He's as proper-looking as you can get at 10:30 after several glasses of, what you assume, is whiskey by the smell of it. His hair is buzzed, smooth, and freshly cut. Most notably, he has sunglasses on. At 10:30 at night.

"You mind if I join you for that smoke?" You're flirtatious and suggestive. Everything you need to get the attention of a man at this hour and that attire. 

"Could always use the company." He holds the door open to exit the building first. 

Outside, the air is bitter. Winter has finally come and he looks like he left his jacket upstairs. You almost want to huddle him like a baby rabbit. Your coat a cocoon for his caterpillar. 

He continues his gentlemanly manners by handing a cigarette to you before taking one for himself. The flame sparked from his zippo—yes, a zippo, he might as well pull out a matchbox next time—and a heat spreads on your skin like it's a bonfire. He lights yours first too.

"You Corey Hart or something?" You ask him, taking the first puff.

"Hm?" He wrinkles his brows together. He's got permanent wrinkles too. They're charming like imprints from a life lived. One you have yet to experience. 

"'Sunglasses At Night'?" You clarify. He takes a drag of his and he seems so particular about it. He purses his lips out in one direction when blowing the smoke out, much clearer about it than when you talked the smoke out.

He chuckles. "I didn't think you were old enough to know who Corey Hart is." So, he knows how young you are. Is he into that kind of thing? Are you gonna have to call him daddy tonight? You don't mind it but sometimes that stuff can feel so infantilizing and come from guys who would fuck teenagers if they could.

"Child of the digital age," you reply. He takes his sunglasses off then. "You don't have to take them off at my teasing."

"No, no, I just want to see you clearer." He's good.

"And how do I look?" Your lips pout and you take a drag hoping the smoke will elicit memories of burning fires for him.

He eyes you up and down, from those chipped colouring of your stilettos to the fly-aways on your head. "Fucking pulchritudinous."

"Excuse me?" Big words, drunk brain.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

"You using big words to compensate for something?"

He laughs. He laughs at you insulting his manhood. Most men are bitter about that kind of thing. He's throwing his head back and the smoke floods its way out through his nose. "Demonstrating length."

An equal-sparing partner. An even more tempting offer than a simple man. He's attractive, looks like he has money if the watch is anything to go by, intellectual, and—allegedly—has a big cock. You tilt your head. "Oh, yeah?"

"What direction are you going?" He asks.

"I thought you were just heading out for a smoke. Won't your friends be concerned?" Or your girlfriend or wife? 

He shakes his head. "Nah, they'll figure it out soon enough. I'm not the type of guy to get kidnapped."

"Who's to say I'm not going to kidnap you?"

He smirks. "I think I'd like you holding me hostage."

You dramatically blink your lashes. "What about me? Am I safe?"

He raises his eyebrows. "From kidnapping? Yes."

"And from other things?"

"Depends on what they are."

You would consider yourself a good judge of character so you wordlessly start walking down 1st Street. He discards his cigarette and walks beside you. "I don't live too far. Could've walked myself home." You feel the need to make that clear. That you're the independent woman who carries pepper spray in her purse. 

"I don't doubt that," he says. 

You don't even know his name. Something about that is alluring. A complete and total stranger, but you're still curious. "Where's that accent from?"

"British," he answers.

You giggle. "I got that far."

"I'm from up north. Sheffield."

You hum. "I don't know why I bothered asking. I suck at geography."

He teases, "I live in LA now. Do you know where that is?"

"Don't be a smartass now."

"What about yours? I got the American part."

You shake your head. "You're not gonna know. It's a tiny, little thing." You put your index finger and thumb within a centimeter of one another. "I just say LA now. I've lived here since I was 18."

"And what was that? 2 years ago," he jokes.

You slap him with your purse. You quietly laugh too. "I'm 24," you clarify. "What are you? 50?"

He clutches his heart. "You wound me. I was born in 1986 if you can do the math on that one."

You roll your eyes. "Too ashamed to say it out loud."

He switches the subject. "Who do you know up there?"

You ask, "At the party?" He nods. "A friend of a friend. You?"

"Just a friend. My friend."

"How evasive?"

"You're the enigma here."

You hum. You stop walking. It amuses you how quickly he follows your move. You walk up the stairs to your building, unlocking the door. He follows behind, no invitation. "We can sit in the lobby." You gesture him to the ottoman across from the mailboxes. 

You take out your vape, offering a hit to me. "You can smoke in here?"

You shrug. "Everyone else does." 

"And you choose to smoke that thing?" He sounds like your father. It makes you giggle.

"You've never even tried it. Have you?" You take a hit from it.

He plucks a cigarette out from his pack, sitting it between his lips as he rests on the ottoman. You take your place beside him. "I'll stick with me cigarettes."

You chuckle at his accent. Sure, you like smoking, but you like watching him smoke more. He wraps his lips around the cigarette and hollows his cheeks. It's an arousing sight to watch. You want to reach out and trace his jawline. 

"How drunk are you?" He asks.

Considering you had been at the party for only close to an hour and it hadn't quite hit the hour where everyone was drowning in alcohol, your intake had been light. "Two drinks, not very."

"That's good."

"Why?" You smirk over him. The smoke allures you to him, dragging you unconsciously closer to his body. 

"I really wanna fuck you."

A vibration rang through you. You sigh, "My roommate is probably home." You lean back against the wall. His eyes follow you everywhere. You look up at him wide-eyed and seductive. 

"Worried you can't keep quiet?"

You giggle. "I'm worried about you." She taps his nose and he scrunchs it up. He looks so young when he does it. 10 years gone like that.

"I can't believe I didn't see you at the party." You exhale twin streams of smoke from your nostrils. 

"I came late. It's stupid, but I couldn't decide what to wear. It's a kind of social anxiety but with clothes, just clothes, I think. I changed like a hundred times. That's another reason you can't come up. I already have too many clothes lying about on my floor."

"What did you end up wearing?" He's staring at you like he has X-ray vision.

"Oh, just this thing I made."

"Can I see?"

You raise an eyebrow. You take the cigarette from his hands and take a puff. "See!" He exclaims. "Even you prefer it."

"Hush," you say. You press the cigarette between your lips and stand to unbutton the black buttons of the coat. What you're wearing is little of anything. A pink, so pale it's almost white. mini dress so short he's sure if you bent over he could see your underwear. The garment fits you like a glove, obviously hand-tailored to fit. 

"You made that?"

You nod. "It's a hobby of mine."

"Let me come upstairs," he says.

"No," you say, sitting back down. "We'll definitely have sex if you come up." You grind your cigarette on the metal stair tread. "What time is it?" You reach over for his wrist before he can look himself. "11, hm."

"This isn't right. Don't let some roommates get in the way of your fun."

You raise an eyebrow and suppress a smile. "My fun? I think you mean your fun."

"Our fun."

You think for a minute. Hum and look around the room. Then, back at him. "No, but I'll check if they are here for you." 

You stand and shrug your coat off fully, throwing it over your arm. He's worked up a heat in that lobby. He follows you up to the second landing just outside your apartment door. You shake your head disappointed. "Two sets of shoes." You gesture to the dirty Converses outside the door. "They're both home."

He's luring, standing over you with a look that makes you weak in the knees, unable to move. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating when he pulls your body against his, like an open fire in the woods. He looks down at you, determined and unhesitating, and says flatly, "How sad." 

He leans down with a kiss: full-on and inflaming. Your skin burns from the inside out. The taste of whiskey lingers on his lips; the tenderness of his kiss is a surprise. The tip of his nose bumps into yours as you sink into the kiss. His kisses are long and slow, matching the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

He breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Let me feel your pussy. Yeah?"

You're hypnotized and with a nod and a returning kiss, his hand slides up your thigh, up to the hem of your panties, and carefully finds the skin underneath. Your breath hitches in your throat and you part your legs, as though powerless to resist. 

His breathing sinfully against your ear. Then, he slips one finger inside you. It's rough, almost desperate, but enough to make you throb for more. Biting back a moan, you lean against the door to find some much-needed balance.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, nearly groaning the words against your neck, taking a bite at it. Two digits in, he continues fingerfucking you slowly while circling his thumb around your clit.

He stares right into your eyes like he wants to see every sensation he's causing, he keeps bringing you closer and closer to the edge—and you're fucking ready to jump. With heavy breaths and electricity running up and down your body, you melt into his touch, doing your best to stare back at him. To you, it's a fucking challenge.

"Fuck," you moan. He grins.

You grab the back of his head, roughly in a desperate attempt to gain some control, but can't keep yourself from moaning loudly when he starts fervently kissing your neck like a fucking tootsie pop and he's trying to get to the middle. He pulls his fingers out and slides them up, rubbing my clit with just the tip of his index.

Then, you hear an upstairs door slam shut. You quickly come to a conscious state and reach down to push his hand away. He gets the message and helps you fix the skirt of your dress. He looks so rough and tempestuous but acts so precious and sweet, you want to keep him like a stray dog.

He pulls away when the footsteps down the stairs increase in volume. You act as if you are looking for your keys in your purse. He reaches down and takes a handful of your ass. You gasp and look up at him and spot who is skipping down the stairs. "Hey, Britt!" Too cheery but you always were an overactor in your middle school plays. "Where you headed?"

Brittany was a couple of years older than you. She's one of the few people you could consider a friend in your building. The rest were either crackheads and/or cat ladies that'll die in their own vomit. Brittany and her roommate were fun.

"Headed to Brad's for the night." Her on-and-off-again boyfriend. They were either back together now or booty calling.

"Have fun!"

She eyes him—you really should get his name—before she rounds the landing's railing. She can probably see his hand on your ass. "You too!"

You look at him as he watches for Brittany waiting to see her exit. Then, he snaps back and attacks your lips. His hands are quick, spreading up your thigh again. He touches your clit and you feel rushed.

"Oh, fuck—"

He moves his mouth way down your neck, gently biting your collarbone and your knees nearly give out, but he steadies you with his free hand. The pressure on your sweet spot; his lips wantingly kissing every inch of exposed skin; the audacity of this man.

It doesn't take long, a few more rubs and then he pinches your clit and you let go, unable to hold on any longer, and fall into him. Heart pounding, you revel in the euphoric feeling like a sinner who's found God. He holds you up until you find your footing. Your foreheads pressed together as you share shallow breathing nearly in sync. 

You laugh like a giddy little girl. "You're ambitious."

"Lucky you were wearing a dress and not down on your knees." His voice is low and husky, only weakening your guard.

"You probably would have already came by the time she interrupted."

"Wanna test it?"

*

a/n: this might be the prequel to "everything is romantic." i can't help it if all i do is write prequels & sequels!

[moonstruckme]

hi could i request doctor!remus with a r who’s scared of needles? love ur writing!!

Thanks babe!

cw: needles, fear of needles

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 756 words

You’ve been dreading this ever since Remus had mentioned it earlier in the week. He’s pretended not to notice (there’s no point in talking about what neither of you can help, right?) but now that he’s gotten you into his office, your legs swinging restlessly off the edge of the exam table, it’s impossible to avoid the issue.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Remus sets his tray of supplies down by the computer, sending you a little smile to let you know he’s only giving you a hard time. 

“It’s not about that,” you insist anyway. “It just—it’s weird.” The paper covering crinkles under you as you squirm. “It goes under your skin, Rem.” 

“Funnily enough, I was briefed on that part in med school,” he says, deadpan tone at odds with the placating hand he rests on your thigh. It works, and you still, but his heart still contracts at the tensed watchfulness of your eyes as they flit to the needle on the tray. “It’s not as sinister as you think it is, love. Might help if you quit looking at it, though.” 

“Sorry.” 

“I don’t get it.” He frowns. “You’re not normally this squeamish.” 

You look upset, wrapping your arms around your midsection protectively. “I don’t get it either. It just freaks me out, I don’t know.”

Remus eyes you for a moment, assessing the apprehensive set of your shoulders, the wariness in your expression. His mouth pulls sympathetically to one side. “If you wanted, I could tell you about everything this has in it and why it’s good for you, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to help you very much. Is it?” 

“Probably not.” You gnaw on the inside of your lip, looking at him apologetically. “I know logically that you’re right, but honestly? If we talk about it much more I think it’s going to make me nauseous.” 

He rubs your leg soothingly. “That’s alright. There’s not always room for logic in these things, yeah? We’ll make this quick.” 

That doesn’t actually seem to help, and your arm tenses as Remus cleans it off. “You’re alright,” he promises, grabbing the syringe before using the back of his hand to tilt your face in the other direction. “Don’t look.” 

“Why?” Your voice pitches high. 

He makes his low and soothing to counter it. “Because you’re already nervous, dove, and it’ll only get worse if you watch. Ready?” He takes your arm in his hand, gentle but firm in case you try to move. You grip your leg so hard it looks like it hurts. 

When you nod, Remus wastes no time. You’re barely able to take in a surprised inhale at the slight sting before he’s setting the needle back down on its tray, smoothing a plaster over the pinprick. 

“There, done,” he reassures you, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles over the spot while he watches your face. The tension hasn’t left your expression. “Okay, sweetheart?” 

You blow out a breath, seeming to shake something off you. “Okay.”

“Was that worth all the buildup?” He’s unable to resist teasing you a little, and you reward him with a small, reluctant grin. 

“No, but it’s still gross.” You roll your eyes. Remus switches from rubbing your arm to your thigh, halfway apologetic. “Thanks, Rem.” 

“You’re welcome, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your hair. “I ought to be thanking you, this will be the first year since I’ve known you that I won’t have to take care of you when you get the flu.” 

“Don’t jinx it,” you warn, accepting the hand he offers to help you off the table. “I could be one of those people who has a worse reaction to the jab than the flu itself.” 

Remus scoffs. “That almost never happens.”

You all but grunt in response. “We’ll see.” Your arms come back around your middle. “Can we get out of here? This place gives me the heebies.” 

Sympathy and amusement war in Remus’ chest, but he satisfies both by chuckling as he wraps his arm around you, guiding you out the door. “You’ve really chosen the wrong boyfriend, sweetheart.” 

“My trouble is with this place, not you.” Your lips turn down, and Remus thinks he feels a tiny shiver beneath his arm. He pulls you closer, just in case. “You don’t smell like chemicals and illness.” 

“What?” He does his best to sound appalled, though he has none of Sirius’ talent for dramatics. “But that’s my favorite part of coming to work every morning—the lovely chemical-and-illness aroma.”

[costnerera]

Title: A Scare On The Ranch Tags: pregnancy prank, fluff, teasing, small use of y/n (only when name is needed/used) Characters: John Dutton, reader pairing: John Dutton x f!reader

----------+-+------------

It was a warm evening on the Dutton ranch. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the rolling hills. You and John were sitting on the porch of the main house, enjoying the peace that only the vast Montana wilderness could offer.

John had been quiet, his brow furrowed in thought, as he often was when he wasn’t busy handling the many issues that seemed to always come up with the ranch.

You had a mischievous glint in your eye as you watched him. He was the strong, silent type, the one who always had everything under control. But tonight, you had decided to have a little fun with him.

“John,” you said softly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He grunted, still looking out over the land, his hand resting on the arm of the chair. “Yeah?”

There was a slight pause. You shifted in your seat, your heart racing with excitement. “I… I need to tell you something.”

He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “What’s goin’ on?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked at him with a serious expression. “John... I’m pregnant.”

He froze. You could see the color drain from his face, his eyes flickering with a mix of shock and fear. His hand clenched the arm of the chair, and for a moment, he was completely still, like a man trying to process a huge blow.

“What?!” His voice was low, rough with confusion. “Are you serious?”

You nodded slowly, watching his reaction carefully. You had known he would be scared—John Dutton was many things, but a father wasn’t something he ever imagined he’d be again, especially not with someone like you, a few years younger and still learning the ropes of ranch life.

“Yeah,” you said, dragging the word out a bit. “I’m late, John. I think I might be...”

Before you could finish the sentence, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the wooden floor. His eyes were wide now, and the usually composed John Dutton looked downright panicked.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you—” He started pacing in front of you, muttering under his breath, his hands running through his hair. “I can’t—this... This ain’t the right time. Not now. Not ever...”

You couldn't help it. The laughter bubbled up from within you, and before you knew it, you were grinning, almost doubling over with laughter. John stopped in his tracks and turned to face you, his jaw dropping.

“What’s so funny?” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and growing frustration.

“You should’ve seen your face,” you said between fits of laughter. “I’m not pregnant, John. I was just messing with you.”

It took him a moment to process, but when he did, the tension in his body slowly started to dissipate. His shoulders sagged in relief, but his expression was still stern. “You scared the hell out of me, (Y/N). I thought for sure I was gonna have a heart attack right here on this porch.”

You wiped your tears of laughter from your eyes, still smiling. “I couldn’t help it. You’re just so serious all the time. I thought you needed a little scare.”

John took a few deep breaths, calming himself down, but there was a faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You better be careful, (Y/N). I might just get you back for this.”

You grinned, settling back into your chair. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But for now, I think you need a drink. You look like you could use one.”

John gave you a mock glare but sat back down next to you. “You’re lucky I don’t strangle you right now.”

“Come on, John,” you teased, “you know you love me.”

He smirked. “Don’t push it, sweetheart. Don’t push it.”

You both sat there, the tension having melted away into a more comfortable silence. The sunset turned the sky into a canvas of orange and pink, and for the moment, everything was calm again. But you knew John wouldn’t forget this little scare anytime soon.

And neither would you.

[lyvhie]

after last night | dong sicheng

actor!sicheng x actress!reader (+18 mdni)

summary: acting alongside your rival was supposed to be just another one of the competitions you play out in your mind, but after a brief heated moment between the two of you, you began to question your true feelings toward him.

a/n: @winwintea..... i'm finally here, pookie.... im like, so so so so so sorry it took sooooo long for me to finally finish this. but i put a lot of love care blood sweat and tears on it, i hope you like it, if you dont, then ill disappear from earth and no one will ever see me again 😫

cw: smut, fluff, more of one-sided rivals to situationship, alcohol mention and consumption, fingering, edging, unprotected sex.

with a frustrated huff, you sank into the chair, allowing the makeup artist to work their magic. the studio was filled with an almost tangible tension, as everyone seemed to expect a blow-out fight between you and sicheng at any moment.

it’s been a constant issue since the start of filming this drama. working on the same project as your long-time rival sicheng has made every day stressful, the constant tension and friction have made filming the drama a more difficult and uncomfortable experience for everyone involved.

the undeniable chemistry between you and sicheng on camera despite the constant tension backstage has led to the difficulty of finding another pair to match your on-screen chemistry. as the main characters of the drama, the romantic aspect of the show requires a certain level of connection and synchronization that only you two seem to possess, as ironic as it may sound.

but today, the prolonged shoot further strained everyone on the set, not only due to the physical exhaustion, but also the weight of the tense atmosphere that loomed over everyone. the frustration and fatigue were palpable, and the constant back and forth between you and sicheng only added to the mounting pressure.

the problem was the dreaded kissing scene. despite everyone’s expectations, you and sicheng can’t do it — and unfortunately, you’re the only one to blame. every time the distance between your faces closes, you instinctively pull away, much to everyone’s frustration.

“um, excuse me,” the staff member poked her head into the dressing room and announced, "the director said it's getting late, and it would be best to continue tomorrow, so… everyone is dismissed for today,” she gave a small, apologetic smile before closing the door gently.

"of course this would happen," you mutter under your breath, trying to contain your frustration. you dismiss the makeup artist with a polite nod, then tilt your head back in irritation as you let out a heavy sigh.

“can you please calm down a little, boss?” your assistant, haneul, places a cup of hot chocolate in front of you and steps into your view, her voice gentle as she pleads with you.

you glare at her and snap, "don't ask me to calm down when i’m perfectly calm, haneul,” grabbing the drink, you take a big sip before continuing. "dong sicheng is such an idiot.”

haneul lets out a deep sigh, rolling her eyes at your response. "he might be an idiot, but you're not much better when you act like this all the time," she says, crossing her arms. "just suck it up, get the scene done, and then you can go back to hating each other."

her firm words cause you to flinch, and you allow your shoulders to drop, acknowledging her point. you're aware that you've been more irritating than usual lately, and her straightforward approach hits home.

you sigh, slumping into the chair and admit, "i know, i know. i'm sorry. i'm just in a really bad mood today. everything is going wrong, and sicheng... i just want to punch that annoying face of his so bad.”

haneul couldn't help but chuckle, her eyes crinkling in amusement as they watched you scrunch your face like you had just tasted something sour.

"you two should get a room," her tone was playful, yet there was an underlying suggestion in her voice that betrayed her mischievous thoughts.

"what?!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with disbelief and shock, you were offended even. the mere thought of having something like that with sicheng gave you the creeps.

haneul continued with a sly smile on her face, her tone now tinged with a hint of amusement, "i’m just saying," she began, "that we can all see the tension between you two. it's like you're just waiting for the moment to pounce on each other."

"is that your way of asking to be fired, huh?" your eyebrows raising slightly out of disbelief. "cut the nonsense – where the hell did you even get that idea?" you shook your head, dismissing the absurd thought, clearly annoyed by your friend's outlandish assumption.

haneul just laughed even more, enjoying the reaction from you. she had always assumed that deep down, you were only pretending to hate sicheng, because she could sense that there was secretly something more than just dislike. the imaginary game you played in your mind, of trying to outshine each other, was something she thought had made the actual attraction to him more intense.

"yeah, you can keep telling yourself that, boss," she placed her hands on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. "but your bad mood would improve a lot if you just let him hit it.”

haneul was caught off guard as you suddenly grabbed the pillow from your lap, not having enough time to react. she grunted as the pillow hit her face with a soft thud. she stumbled back, rubbing her face where the pillow made contact, failing to hide her giggle and act offended.

she was about to continue with her tease when the sound of the door opening interrupted her, as if a greater force was saving her from provoking your wrath even further.

"sorry to interrupt," sicheng's deep voice reached your ears, his gaze fixing on you with a small raise of his eyebrows. he was the last person you wanted to see. "are you free right now?"

“for you?”

“mhm.”

“then no.”

sicheng let out a deep sigh in response, already expecting this reply from you. your name came out of his lips with a different, pleading tone compared to the annoyed one he had used for you all day.

"i’m serious," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sincerity. "we need to talk, please?"

you were usually a stubborn person, but perhaps today you were simply too drained and the memory of haneul's words from before suddenly echoed in your mind, reminding you that maybe making things difficult wasn't always the right way to go, you knew you had already caused enough trouble.

so with a reluctant sigh, you relented, “fine,” your tone slightly annoyed. “what is it?” you gestured for haneul to give you some space alone with him and she immediately made her way to the door, despite her curiosity about what you would talk.

sicheng moved closer, taking a seat in front of you. you expected him to bring up the topic of the messed-up records and give you his usual sweet and annoying words of reassurance, mentally prepared to roll your eyes and respond with snark.

"i've noticed how stressful it was for you today," he started, his tone sympathetic. "and since this is your first romantic role, i've been thinking about what i could do to make this process easier for you. then, i realized the solution was right in front of us.”

you raised an eyebrow skeptically, not liking where this was going.

“we just need to practice,” he smiled.

"you're saying we should practice... kissing?"

“exactly!”

“absolutely not.”

his smile faded away instantly.

he let out a slight whine, trying to persuade you to comply. "oh, come on," he pleaded, "don't be like that now.”

“i said no. this is so stupid, sicheng,” you crossed your arms, looking away from him.

“why are you making such a big deal out of this?" even though he already knew that acting like this was part of your nature, he still asked.

you felt overwhelmed at the thought of having to kiss him on set even more, let alone practicing it multiple times. it was already a challenge for you, and you were unsure if you could handle it.

you responded with a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay it. "i’m not making a big deal out of it," you said dismissively. "i just think this idea is stupid. that’s all."

"have you thought about something better then?" he asked, his tone tinged with a slight annoyance. “there's no way we can keep going with the show if you don't overcome this problem." his eyebrows furrowed as he continued, "you know we'll have to perform even more 'spicy' scenes in the future, right?”

ugh... of course you know. you were already starting to regret your stupid decision to accept a show for a mature audience just to compete with sicheng.

“and i fear they might replace you for this scene," he continued, his tone serious. "not that it's a problem per se, but i know you don't like stunts.”

his words made you flinch a little. it’s not that you dislike stunts themselves, you actually think they are pretty cool and that their work is impressive. you just don't like the idea of not seeming capable of doing your own work, and feeling inadequate when you know you're so skilled in it. it leaves you feeling disconcerting.

overwhelmed? unsure if you could handle it? regretting your role choice? replaced by a stunt double? bullshit! you were a top-notch actress, and a simple kiss wouldn't change that. you had the skills and confidence to tackle any role thrown your way.

sicheng knew he had struck a chord as he observed your expression. he knew well that bringing out your competitive side would effectively motivate you. the slight frown that appeared on your face, coupled with the defeated sigh and the rolled eyes, only confirmed his assumption that he had achieved his goal.

“okay, let's do that.”

hah.

he got you.

haneul couldn't resist making suggestive remarks toward you upon hearing that she could leave first because you had things to do with sicheng. it wasn't until you played the "threaten-her-paycheck" card that she finally decided it was time to head home.

now it was just you and sicheng in the studio. as you stood leaning against the table set for the scene, your eyes briefly skimmed over the script once more. you knew that it wasn't to ensure you did it right, but rather to prolong the inevitable moment of kissing him.

“are you done?” sicheng's voice cut through your thoughts, prompting you to lift your head and meet his gaze. he stood a short distance away, his arms crossed in a manner that signaled his patient but slightly impatient attitude.

as you cleared your throat, a subtle attempt to buy a little more time, you glanced back down at the script. "almost," you replied, keeping your gaze fixed on the paper. "i just need to read through it one more time."

but contrary to what you insisted on saying, sicheng wasn’t an idiot.

a flicker of surprise crossed your face as sicheng abruptly grabbed the papers from your hands and tossed them aside. the unexpected move caught you off guard, and before you could react, he had placed his hands on either side of the table, effectively cornering you.

“what are you doing?” your frown deepened as he leaned closer, his body nearly touching yours. the proximity making it difficult to ignore the rapid thuds of your heart and keep your feigned annoyance.

“you needed time," he said, "and i think i've given you enough."

"don't be an idiot," you scoffed. “we need to re—”

“we're not here to rehearse the lines," he interrupted you quickly. "we both know you can recite this backward by now."

you couldn't argue with sicheng's words, he was right; there wasn't a need to play the entire scene when you could easily jump straight to the main part.

you had been attempting to buy time, and sicheng had allowed you some grace in doing so. but he had finally reached a point where enough was enough. there was no escape now.

"alright," you responded with a confident gaze, your expression indicating a readiness to proceed. sicheng's brow twitched slightly at your response, a subtle sign that he was either surprised or intrigued by your sudden change.

his agreement followed swiftly:

"great."

“great.”

with those simple lines, the stage was set.

you were in the correct position, just as the script dictated. in this moment, the male lead had devised a plan to kiss the girl, saying that her wishes would only come true if she kissed him, and he had locked her in the exact position where sicheng was holding you now.

all it needed was the pivotal moment — the kiss.

sicheng's hand cupped your face once more, replicating the same intimate gesture as before. the familiar sensation of his thumb on your cheek triggered the erratic beating of your heart.

you reassured yourself, attributing the sudden rush to the invested nature of your role. easy now, easy, you thought, repeating the mantra in your mind. it was only natural for your heart to race in this moment due to the intimacy required by the character you were portraying — that’s all.

as he leaned even closer, your instinct to push him away resurfaced once more. yet, you resisted the urge, your hands tightly grasping the edge of the table instead.

sicheng's eyes roamed over your lips, and you caught yourself replicating the action unknowingly. those plump lips of his were undeniably inviting, and it was challenging to deny the magnetic attraction you felt.

his lips caressed yours gently and softly, their subtle touch sending a shiver down your spine. the script called for a quick, chaste kiss, and that's precisely what you received as his lips pressed against yours. it was a brief moment, but it was enough to make your legs tremble in response.

ok, first part done. now comes the rest.

with a swift, fluid motion, sicheng leaned in for a second kiss, his hands cupping your face as his thumb subtly guided your chin downwards. you felt your lips part instinctively, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth with his warm, skilled tongue.

you know, there's no such thing as a "technical kiss" in acting.

you either kiss, or you kiss.

it has to be real.

that's why you were so reluctant before because, right now, only god knows how much you are enjoying this. and no matter how much you triy to deny it, the way your tongue move against his is proof enough.

you found your hands reaching out to grasp his shirt, pulling him closer as you responded to the kiss with a new sense of eagerness.

sicheng was surprised. this wasn't in the script at all. now it seemed like you were just... making out.

not that he's complaining. he likes it.

he very, very much likes it.

as if they had a life of their own, his hands found the hem of your shirt, playing with the cloth for a few moments before sliding them under your clothes. his fingers came into contact with your skin, caressing it gently and making you shiver slightly.

and then, walking a little further, his hand trailed down to the waistband of your pants, sneaking into your panties. the gasp that escaped your lips served as a jolt to your consciousness. quickly, you broke the kiss and grasped his wrist, preventing any further advancements from him.

you locked eyes with sicheng, both of you panting. his hooded eyes, slightly flushed face, and his swollen, reddened lips were a sight to behold.

sicheng's voice, soft and low, echoed softly, asking, "what?" just as he leaned in for another kiss. you almost, almost gave in, your lips yearning to meet his, but you fought the urge, tilting your head back to avoid it.

you pushed him away quickly, fixing your slightly disheveled clothing while attempting to regain composure. your voice trembled a little as you speak.

"i think we did pretty good already. it's getting late too." you hastily handed him the studio keys before adding, "um, thank you for the practice. you can close up. see you tomorrow!" with those words, you hurriedly made your way towards the exit.

things happened so fast that sicheng barely seemed to process what was going on.

"hold on, wait!" his voice rushed after you, trying to catch up. "calm down," he called out, his words coming out quickly. "you didn't come by car today, did you? let me drive you home, i just need to—”

"no! it's fine,” you shook your head adamantly, cutting him off. "i can catch a taxi. thanks anyway.”

and just like that, you left, running away like a cat while closing the door in sicheng's face. the man let his shoulders fall and sighed loudly as he looked at the closed door in front of him, a small smile appearing on his face.

“cute”.

you haven't slept a wink all night.

the scene from the previous night replaying in your mind along with haenul's damned words like a broken record.

no. you do not want to fuck dong sicheng.

this is what you've been repeating in your mind since the moment you got up from your bed until the entire drive to the studio.

he's a bad kisser.

he's terrible.

that was the worst kiss you've ever had.

learning how to kiss with an orange would be better than this.

that's what you repeated in your mind as he kissed you again, but this time in front of the cameras. and you still had to tell yourself that it was your character who was enjoying it, not you. you definitely don't want to take him to a secluded place and make out until your mouth are sore. no.

"and... cut!" the director's voice rang out, followed by a chorus of applause. everyone on set was thrilled with how effortlessly the scene had come together, a stark contrast to the tension-filled atmosphere that had enveloped it lately. the air was charged with positivity, making it clear that this was the best mood the set had experienced since the project's inception.

despite the apparent positive change in the atmosphere, it was clear that there was something... different going on, for lack of a better word, between you and sicheng.

suddenly, you weren't bickering anymore and were even being uncharacteristically polite, thanking and apologizing for the smallest minor matters, which wasn't like your usual self at all.

everyone noticed this, but decided to just accept it as a positive development in the co-workers' feelings between you. at least, it was better than all that tension from before.

as haenul handed you a bottle of water, her words echoed with admiration. "wow," she exclaimed, "that was like, the best kiss scene i’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“oh, really?” you laughed a little awkwardly, your eyes briefly darted towards sicheng, who stood on the opposite side of the room. as your gaze met his, you hastily averted your eyes, taking a sip of water.

"of course! this episode will be an absolute banger; everyone has been waiting for this!" she nodded fiercely and continued. "i've been checking the social media, and..." her words were met with your inattentiveness, as if your mind was preoccupied elsewhere. "and you're not listening to me!" she furrowed.

"oh, sorry about that," you shook your head, snapping back to attention. "i got distracted for a moment. you were saying…?”

haenul's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized you momentarily, following your gaze to where sicheng stood on the other side of the room.

"did you and sicheng finally hook up last night?"

you nearly choked on your water, coughing as you fumbled with the bottle in your hand. your assistant quickly patted your back, trying to help you recover.

once you were fine again, you glanced around nervously to check if anyone had overheard, then turned back to haenul with a sharp glare.

“can you stop blurting stuff like that?!” you hissed at her.

haenul gasped dramatically. “oh my god! you totally did it!”

“i did not!” you snapped, lightly smacking her arm.

“but something happened between you two!” she insisted, her voice dropping to a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear after the scolding. “you’re acting all weird around him. if it wasn’t sex, then what was it?”

“is that seriously the only reason you can think of?” you replied, your tone edged with disbelief. “when did you turn into such a pervert?”

“i mean, you were obviously kissing for real earlier, and now we’re finishing the day without your usual sulking. after spending the night alone with him, what else am i supposed to think?”

you frowned at her explanation. “well, maybe that we’ve become, i don’t know… friends?” haneul looked at you as if you’d just told her the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “pff. yeah, right. friends. sure,” she said, shaking her head.

before you could even attempt to explain that she was partially wrong, everyone’s attention shifted to the director as she clapped her hands to speak.

“since we’ve successfully wrapped up the first part of our series — thanks to everyone here in the studio who made it happen, especially our two stars,” she gestured toward you and sicheng, “doesn’t this call for a celebration? drinks on me for everyone!”

her words were met with cheers from the crew, and even you felt a sense of relief. a good dose of alcohol might help clear your mind, especially since you knew sicheng wasn’t exactly a fan of these kinds of social gatherings.

“we’re going, right, boss?” haneul asked, clasping her hands together in mock prayer. “please, please, it’s the weekend!”

“yes, haneul, we are,” you said, rolling your eyes with a chuckle. “but don’t overdo it, okay? i’m not in the mood to hear you sobbing your heart out while singing sad songs on karaoke again.”

“yes, boss! I’ll treat it like a work meeting,” she replied with a playful salute. “i’ll grab your things so we can head out!” she added enthusiastically before dashing out of sight.

you took a deep breath, relishing the brief moment of solitude. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe with haneul’s constant energy. she could be... intense. but the peace didn’t last long.

“i didn’t know you drink,” sicheng’s voice came from behind, making you turn to face him. “you used to hate the taste of alcohol.”

honestly, you were tired of seeing his face and hearing his voice more than usual. you didn’t like the way it made you feel, not after what happened. it was as if you were suddenly too aware of the strange, tangled emotions brewing inside you.

“well, a lot has changed since our younger days,” you shrugged, your voice casual. you didn’t feel like diving into it any further. “now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to socialize,” you said, turning on your heels, eager to escape the uncomfortable moment.

“i agree. let’s not keep them waiting,” he replied, his footsteps closing in behind you. you froze in your tracks, his sudden presence unsettling.

“you’re coming too?” you asked, confused.

“of course,” he said with a soft chuckle. “you heard the director, can't have the stars missing out."

“but… you don’t like social events,” you said, your tone almost questioning, as if you were trying to figure him out.

“well,” he said with a small smile, “a lot has changed since our younger days.”

it was awful.

you had been hoping for some space from sicheng, but it seemed like life had other plans. you tried to find a seat as far away from him as possible, but he followed, completely at ease, as if he had no intention of leaving your side. and of course, the table quickly filled up, leaving you both sitting side by side, while you anxiously awaited the drinks.

the mood at the table was light, everyone chatting away. haneul took a seat on the other side, eager to be closer to the staff she was interested in, which meant you wouldn’t be on her radar for a while.

you turned your attention to sicheng as he exchanged a few words with the director, and suddenly, it hit you: why were you freaking out about him? it was just a kiss. a brief, heated moment between two adults that didn’t mean a thing. there was no reason for you to keep acting so weird about it all day. after all, he was still sicheng, your rival. you just happened to kiss him.

sure, a few other things almost happened, too, but... it didn’t mean anything. you were just practicing, after all. yeah. you weren’t affected by it. not even a little. mhm.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you made these sharp observations, feeling a bit more at ease.

“why are you looking at me like that?” sicheng raised an eyebrow, noticing the way you were smiling at him, as if you were staring at someone who’d just failed a basic math test.

“nothing, it’s just too much for your mind to handle,” you waved your hand dismissively, taking a sip of your drink that had just arrived. your words, along with the casual shrug, made him smile and shake his head.

“oh, i’m actually curious about something,” one of the co-actors began, snapping his fingers at you and the man beside you. “do you two really know each other from high school?"

sicheng’s face lit up at the question, clearly happy. then he looked at you, who wasn’t exactly sharing his enthusiasm, and his smile grew even wider. “yes! yes, we do. we were inseparable back then.”

you furrowed your brows at his words. “you mean you followed me around.”

“isn’t that basically the same thing?”

“it’s not."

“anyways,” he shrugged, “it was because of her that I started to get into theater.”

“and i’ve been regretting that ever since,” you added with a smirk.

a few giggles spread through the table at your playful banter, the lighthearted atmosphere catching everyone off guard. it was clear they were starting to see you both in a new light.

“so, all this time you were actually friends? and here we thought you didn’t get along when it’s just your way of showing friendship,” one colleague commented, raising a curious eyebrow.

“no, that’s not—”

“right? that explains why they have such great chemistry!” another colleague cut you off. “i mean, the kiss scene? that must’ve been awkward with a friend, but it probably makes it easier too, doesn’t it?”

“oh, it’s not that,” sicheng began. “it’s because last night we—”

a loud thud echoed as sicheng’s knee slammed into the table, his words cut off mid-sentence. he turned to you, confused, after you had stomped on his foot under the table.

“oops, how clumsy of me,” you said with a saccharine smile, your voice light but your eyes burning into his. “sorry about that.”

he blinked, clearly perplexed, but nodded slowly and turned back to the group. “anyway, as i was saying, we had a—”

this time, you pressed your heel down on his foot with deliberate force. he hissed in pain, snapping his head back toward you. but you didn’t even flinch, your gaze fixed ahead as if you were entirely innocent.

he narrowed his eyes slightly, then leaned closer, sliding a hand onto your thigh. His grip was firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to stop you from trying anything else. the sudden contact made you tense, and your head snapped toward him, your wide, confused eyes locking with his.

“we just had a little talk and came to an agreement,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and convincing.

“oh, that makes sense,” one of your colleagues hummed, nodding as if it all clicked. “that’s why everything worked out so well in the end. you should have done it since the beginning tho!”

sicheng’s words were deliberate, as if he’d sensed your discomfort from the start and had chosen his lie to protect the fragile truth you wanted to hide. but you couldn’t even focus on what he was saying anymore.

your mind was too preoccupied with his hand placement. his thumb was now tracing slow, deliberate circles on your thigh, hidden under the table. your stomach tightened at the warmth spreading through you, that annoying, fluttery feeling you wished you could suppress.

without a word, you picked up your drink and took a long, steady sip, as if the alcohol could somehow cool the heat in your chest.

god, this was going to be a long night.

oh, you were right.

after managing to wrangle sicheng into the passenger seat of your car, you slammed the door shut and made your way to the driver’s side.

sliding into your seat, you shot him an annoyed look, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

driving a drunk sicheng home was definitely not part of your plans for the night. but somehow, the crew had unanimously decided to throw him at you because, apparently, the two of you were now best friends. all because you shared some ancient history, and probably because he’d grown unusually clingy after a few too many drinks.

you tried to refuse, insisted that you didn’t want to be responsible for him, but they’d waved you off with the ultimate argument: you were the only one who knew his address.

fantastic.

“you stupid idiot,” you hissed, leaning over to fasten his seatbelt. “if you can’t handle alcohol, why did you even come?”

his eyes, half-closed and heavy with sleep, fluttered open as he turned his head toward you. “because you were coming too,” he slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. “i wanted to be with you.”

you froze, his words catching you completely off guard. your surprised gaze met his drunken one, and you hated how fast your heart was racing. this was absurd.

a small, lazy smile tugged at his lips as he murmured your name, so soft it almost sounded tender.

“you’re so pretty,” he mumbled, his head lolling slightly as he leaned closer. “i want to kiss you.”

to say you were malfunctioning from all this sudden talk was an understatement. the way he said it — soft, unguarded — made it far too tempting to close the small gap between you. for a split second, you almost gave in again. almost.

but with a sharp shake of your head, you snapped yourself out of it. instead of letting your lips meet his, you shoved your hand against his mouth and pushed him back firmly.

“as if i’d do something like that,” you scoffed, leaning back into your seat and starting the car.

from the corner of your eye, you caught the way he pouted, looking like a sulky child.

“you’re always so mean to me,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but unmistakably petulant.

“it’s your fault for being like that,” you shot back, your eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. “now shut up. i can’t focus on driving with your annoying voice in my head.”

“yes, ma’am,” he murmured softly, his tone almost obedient. he didn’t even try to argue, instead leaning back against the seat and drifting off to sleep. the car fell into silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the erratic pounding of your heart.

“god, i must be crazy,” you muttered under your breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter as if it could steady your own thoughts.

the peaceful silence during the drive to his house was doing wonders to calm your racing thoughts and your heart. you kept repeating to yourself that he was just drunk, that his words didn’t mean anything. even you, who hadn’t had much to drink, were clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol.

that was the only explanation you could cling to, the only thing that brought you any comfort in the moment.

a relieved sigh escaped your lips as you parked in front of his apartment. the street was quiet, the dim glow of the streetlights casting soft shadows over the building. turning to him, you called out in a firm, loud voice.

“we’re here. wake up.”

no reaction. not even a flinch.

“sicheng,” you tried again, leaning over to tap his shoulder. still nothing.

“come on,” you grumbled, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a light shake. “wake up!”

absolutely no response.

with a growing sense of irritation, you grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him with all the frustration of someone at the end of their rope. “WAKE UP!”

but it was pointless. he remained blissfully asleep, the alcohol rendering him completely oblivious. you let out a defeated sigh, releasing him as he slumped back into his seat, and pinched the bridge of your nose.

this night just kept getting better.

you couldn’t just leave him passed out on the street — though you seriously considered the idea for a good few seconds. but, in the end, you had no choice but to do something you absolutely didn’t want to do.

“dong sicheng, you better be ready for your death sentence tomorrow,” you muttered through gritted teeth, adjusting his limp body onto your back. he was surprisingly heavy, and you were giving it everything you had to carry him while he, of course, enjoyed the sleep of his life, his soft breaths tickling the back of your neck.

staggering inside the building as quickly as you could, you headed straight for the elevator. you only knew exactly where he lived because, back when you were hunting for a new apartment, you’d toured this building. of course, you’d had the misfortune of running into him that day. sicheng had happily joined your tour, turning it into his personal showcase of his apartment. at least it made it easy to cross this building off your list.

reaching the elevator, you pressed the button, only to stop cold when you noticed the maintenance notice taped to the door.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, staring at the sign like it might change its mind.

sicheng lived on the 11th floor.

this was going to be a nightmare.

to sum up the nigh, believe it or not, you actually climbed the stairs to the 11th floor with sicheng slumped over your back. every step felt like a herculean effort, but you kept telling yourself this was the fastest way to be rid of him.

when you finally reached his door, breathless and drenched in sweat, life decided to have one last laugh at your expense. a keypad lock blinked back at you mockingly.

you stared at it, utterly defeated.

after a moment of recovery, you tried every password you could think of: his birthday, his acting debut date, his mom’s birthday, even your birthday. nothing worked. each failed attempt pushed you closer to a breakdown.

which is how you ended up here: sicheng sprawled out comfortably on your bed, snoring softly, while you stood there, glaring at him with the fury of someone who had well and truly hit their limit.

getting mad wouldn’t do you any good right now. it wasn’t like you could argue with someone who was completely knocked out. all you could do was accept the situation and leave it for the morning, when he’d hopefully be conscious enough to face the consequences.

taking a deep, calming breath, you laid down beside him. there was no way you were sleeping on the couch. too uncomfortable. and besides, the only reason he was in your bed to begin with was because the living room felt like it was miles away, and you absolutely refused to carry him any farther than you already had.

so here you were, stuck sharing a bed with dong sicheng.

“unbelievable,” you muttered, turning your back to him as if that would help you ignore the fact that he was there at all.

but it didn't take long for you to turn to look him, letting your eyes linger on his sleeping face. his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and his hair fell messily across his forehead, brushing against his soft features. you had to admit, he was ridiculously handsome. there was a princely air about him, something in the elegance of his delicate features that always seemed to catch your attention no matter how hard you tried to look away.

your gaze wandered, tracing the curve of his nose, the sharp line of his jaw, the faint lashes resting against his cheek. and then your eyes stopped on his lips, plump, rosy, and slightly parted.

you swallowed hard.

okay. maybe you wanted to kiss him again.

and maybe, just maybe, you could finally admit that the kiss had affected you far more than you’d been willing to let yourself believe.

your gaze drifted lower, trailing down the curve of his neck. the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, teasing you with a glimpse of his collarbone and the faint rise and fall of his chest. your eyes wandered further, catching on his hands, broad and elegant, resting lazily by his side.

your brows furrowed slightly as your mind betrayed you, flashing back to the feeling of those hands on your skin.

okay. maybe you wanted to fuck him too.

you quickly looked away, dragging a hand over your face before resting your arm across your eyes, as if that would block out the whirlwind of thoughts spiraling in your mind.

“god,” you muttered under your breath, “i must really be losing it.”

the shrill sound of your phone alarm jolted you awake, your face twisting in irritation as you blindly slapped around the bed. after a few failed attempts, your hand finally found the device buried under your pillow, and you silenced it with a hiss.

groaning, you kept your eyes shut and your head buried in the mattress, hoping to reclaim the comfort of sleep, but it was useless. letting out a defeated sigh, you blinked your eyes open and... froze.

the bed was empty.

you shot upright, the sudden absence snapping you fully awake. your eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of life. nothing. quickly, you got up and began pacing through your house.

sicheng was gone.

“you stupid bastard,” you hissed, gritting your teeth as a wave of disbelief hit you. “i even carried his dead weight all night for him to leave without so much as a thank you?!” your fists clenched as you let out an incredulous scoff. “dong sicheng, you are so damned.”

a small, frustrated scream left your lips as you stomped toward the bathroom. a nice, scalding shower, it was the only thing that could save both your sanity and sicheng's life at this point.

but, contrary to what you imagined, the bath only cleared your mind enough to make you even more irritated with the situation. it was an affront, an insult! you were going to make sicheng pay for this humiliation! a great outrage! you could already see your hands wrapped around his neck and—

a knock on the door cut through your murderous thoughts. taking a deep breath, you walked over to open it, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of the man you’d been cursing standing there with that infuriating smile.

freshly dressed and looking nothing like the disaster he’d been before, sicheng radiated ease. but you couldn’t care less about his annoyingly perfect face right now.

“i’m gonna kill you with my own two hands, so get ready,” you growled, stalking closer with your fingers curled as if ready to strangle him.

“hey, hey, calm down,” he said, laughing softly as he caught your wrists in his hands, his touch warm and steady. his smile grew wider, completely unfazed by your murderous intent.

"are you seriously asking me to calm down?" you snapped, attempting to push forward again, but he held your wrists tighter, his grip firm yet gentle.

"i know you're mad," he said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your wrist. the warmth of his lips brushing your skin sent a jolt through you, your resolve faltering. disoriented, you found yourself staring at him, momentarily forgetting why you were even angry. "and i'm here to apologize, of course," he added, his tone dripping with sincerity, though that playful glint in his eyes made you suspicious.

"i climbed up and down eleven floors with you on my back," you managed to say, your voice carrying a hint of annoyance despite your disoriented state. his surprised expression told you everything: he didn’t remember half of what happened last night. "an 'i'm sorry' isn't enough to save your ass."

"i know," he nodded, resisting the urge to ask for a full recap. "which is why i already reserved a table for us at your favorite restaurant."

"what?" you blinked, confused. "how do you even know what my favorite restaurant is?"

"because i’m interested in you," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "any other reason would just be an excuse, don’t you think?"

your jaw nearly dropped. this was exactly what you liked and hated about him: he was always unapologetically sincere.

you stood there, at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. but he, of course, didn't miss a beat and took your silence as an answer.

“then it’s settled!” he said with that all-too-confident smile. “let’s go.”

and once again, your silly heart betrayed you, too caught up in the moment to resist.

the place was near your house. it wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had its own charm. cozy, inviting, warm, it felt almost like a safe haven for you. a perfect find for your new place, tucked away from prying eyes.

“and that’s everything you put me through,” you finished recounting the events of last night to him, carefully omitting a few details, like the part where he said he wanted to kiss you or when you accidentally knocked his head on the door frame while trying to get him into your bedroom.

sicheng’s face turned a deep shade of red as he fanned himself with one hand, the other clutching his glass of water. he avoided your gaze for a moment, clearly embarrassed, before stealing a quick sip.

he only remembered bits and pieces of last night, but from what you described, it was worse than he had imagined. guilt settled heavily on his shoulders as he listened.

“i’m really so sorry,” he said, his voice soft and genuine, his wide, puppy-like eyes locking onto yours. “i’m not usually like this. i overdid it yesterday, and i caused you so much trouble. i’m sorry.”

you finished your meal, casually listening to his concerned words. honestly, seeing that guilty, almost childlike expression on his face was oddly satisfying. if you were being fair, dealing with him drunk wasn’t that bad, he was mostly well-behaved. but it was part of your nature to make a big deal out of things, especially when it came to him. besides, a free lunch at your favorite spot had done wonders to smooth over your irritation.

“you’re lucky i’m a very nice person,” you said, shrugging with a mock air of superiority. “i’ll accept all that and forgive you… this time.”

his shoulders relaxed, the tension visibly draining from his body. since the moment he woke up and found you sleeping soundly against his chest, he knew he had messed up. the guilt had weighed heavily on him, and he’d spent the entire morning running through a million different ways to make it up to you. seeing you willing to forgive him so easily was a relief he hadn’t expected.

“thank you,” he said softly, his gaze warm and sincere. “i promise i’ll be more careful next time.”

you raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing. “next time? you think there’s gonna be a next time?”

he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, bad choice of words.”

you chuckled at his words, resting your chin on your palm as you leaned closer, a curious glint in your eyes.

“by the way,” you began casually, “you said a couple of funny things last night too.”

“hmm, really?” he raised his brows slightly, feigning ignorance while signaling the waiter for a dessert. “like what?”

“like going to the meeting just because i was going,” you replied, narrowing your eyes slightly, testing if his drunk words held any truth.

“oh, yeah,” he nodded nonchalantly, turning his attention back to you. “i heard you mention it, so i thought it’d be fun to tag along.”

“saying you're interested in me all of a sudden, still following me around like a lost puppy…” you trailed off, lips curling into a faint smirk. “do you have a crush on me or something?”

“what do you think?” he shot back, mimicking your posture as he leaned in, resting his chin on his palm, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“you know it’s stupid to answer a question with another question, right?” you gave him a bored look, but your tone was far from serious. “but if you do like me, i can only assume you’re a masochist.”

his laughter bubbled up before he could stop it, bright and genuine “what? i’m not a masochist! where is that coming from?”

“well, I’m not exactly nice to you,” you shrugged, feigning indifference. “like, I kinda hate you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“you do not hate me.”

“yes, i do?”

“no, you don’t.”

“yes, i do.”

“do you kiss everyone you hate?”

your smugness evaporated in an instant, replaced by embarrassment. “shut up,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair, refusing to meet his eyes as he grinned victoriously.

“now that this came up,” he tilted his head, studying you intently, “we never really talked about that, did we? you’ve been avoiding it all day, then i had that little… drunken incident, and we just never addressed it.”

“well, that’s because there’s nothing to talk about,” you shrugged, doing your best to sound casual and unaffected, even as your grip tightened slightly on your glass.

“hmm, is that so?” he clicked his tongue, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his tone turned teasing. “going through all that trouble to get me home safe, kissing me, sleeping all cuddled up on me… you know, i’m starting to think you’re the one who likes me.”

your head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “excuse me?”

“oh, don’t look so shocked,” he chuckled, leaning forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand again. “i mean, actions speak louder than words, don’t they? and your actions…” he trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air as his grin widened.

“first of all, and most importantly, i did not sleep cuddling you,” you said, your tone sharp as if he’d just told you the worst joke of the century.

“oh? but you did,” he replied smoothly, nodding with absolute confidence. “when i woke up, you were hugging me like i was your favorite teddy bear or something.”

“i would never—”

“oh, our dessert, finally!” he interrupted, his face lighting up as the waiter placed the sweet tart on the table. “it looks delicious,” he added, completely shifting gears, as if your denial wasn’t the least bit convincing.

“are you seriously gonna end things like that?” you asked, disbelief heavy in your voice.

“here, say ‘aah,’” he said, raising a spoonful of pie toward your mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“i'm not doing it.”

“say aah.”

“i said i'm not.”

he didn’t budge, just kept looking at you with that infuriatingly cute and bright smile that you couldn’t seem to resist. with an exasperated sigh, you crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, turning your head away. but, of course, you leaned in slightly, opening your mouth just enough for him to slide the spoon past your lips.

your frown quickly softened into an expression of pure delight as the flavors burst on your tongue. the bittersweet tang of the strawberry, the velvety richness of the custard, and the flaky crust of the tart all mingled perfectly. you couldn’t help but sigh and hum in satisfaction. it was that good.

“now that’s a great reaction,” sicheng said, amusement dancing in his voice.

you raised a brow at him, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“besides the faces you make when you’re acting, this has to be one of the most charming expressions i’ve ever seen you make. and those little sounds you’re making? delightful,” he added with a teasing grin.

you nearly choked. “what is wrong with you?”

“i’m just being honest,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “i want to see it again,” he said, holding out the spoon toward you. “open your mouth for me.”

“…no.”

“oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “do you really not want to?”

you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were the one with something wrong, because before you even realized it, you silently opened your mouth again, earning a satisfied smirk from him.

“hmm, so greedy.”

“by the way,” you glanced at him, who was walking beside you as you both made your way to your place. “why did you go home so early?”

“why? were you upset that my face wasn’t the first thing you saw in the morning?”

“forget i ever asked anything and just die for all i care.”

sicheng laughed at your annoyed expression. “it’s nothing much,” he shrugged. “i just couldn’t take you on a date smelling like alcohol, right? i wanted to apologize in nice clothes, at least.”

“this was not a date,” you said quickly, hoping to shut him down.

“yes, it was.”

“don’t even start,” you lifted a hand to stop him from going any further, making him laugh once again.

“here we are, safe and sound,” he said as you both stopped in front of your door.

you cursed yourself when you suddenly felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of the moment with him coming to an end. you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with him, to be honest…

“finally, this infernal time beside you is over,” your words were at odds with your feelings as you looked at him.

“whatever you say, sweetie,” he responded with a fond smile.

it should be illegal for someone to look at you like that, your chest tightening at the soft, affectionate smile he gave you. you hated it. hated how his gaze made everything inside you stir, how it made your heart skip a beat against your will. you wanted to be angry, to push him away, but all you could do was stand there, feeling something you didn’t want to feel.

“you’ll burn a hole into me if you keep staring like that,” he teased, tilting his chin slightly as if silently telling you to come inside, and only then would he head home.

you couldn’t quite understand what had gotten into you when you cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss. you just wanted to feel his lips again, even if just for a moment, just one more time, that would be enough.

sicheng was caught off guard, but didn’t pull away, letting you lead. you froze, eyes wide, your gaze meeting his.

“i-i’m sorry,” you muttered, suddenly feeling foolish. why had you kissed him just like that?

as you tried to step back, his hands locked around you, holding you steady. he gripped your waist, his eyes burning with desire.

“if you cling to me like this, all i can do is kiss you,” his voice was low, soft. “and that’s fine… if all you want is kisses,” he gave you a meaningful look.

if only kisses were enough to throw your mind and body into disarray… maybe you were greedy, as he’d said, but you weren’t satisfied.

“i want more…” you whispered, barely audible.

that was all he needed to hear before pulling you into another kiss, his tongue urgently invading your mouth as you responded with equal intensity.

you fumbled with the door handle, trying to opem it, while sicheng pushed you inside, never breaking the kiss. he closed the door behind you, his hands guiding you toward your room without hesitation, already knowing the way.

you both nearly stumbled as you hurriedly kicked off your shoes, chuckling against each other's lips. With a quick movement, sicheng laid you down on your bed, his lips trailing kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. his hands slipped under your shirt, gently caressing your skin.

"i can't believe we're doing this," you murmured, a soft whimper escaping you.

“i told you," he mumbled back, his lips sucking lightly on your skin, peppering the area with soft kisses to soothe you. “you like me.”

well, it's not like you're in any position to argue right now.

he wasted no time in pulling your shirt over your head, exposing your bare torso. “fuck, you're so hot,” he hissed, sucking on his bottom lip as he couldn't help but admire the sight of your hardened nipples, feeling his cock twitch inside his pants.

“stop staring and do something,” your needy voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he was quick to obey your words.

sicheng leaned down to wrap his lips around your breast, his warm, wet tongue swirling around your nipples and sucking hard. your toes curled at the sensation and you moaned softly as you closed your eyes, your fingers tangling in his hair.

as he continued his ministrations on your breasts, his hands found the waistband of your pants. you lifted your hips a little to help him pull them down along your lacy panties, kicking them to somewhere else.

you opened your eyes to look at him, feeling even wetter as you watched him sucking on your tits like he was having a feast. you held his face and made him release your breast, a soft 'pop' sound was heard as he pulled away, looking at you with half lidded eyes.

you shiver slightly as you feel the cool breeze hit your wet breasts, already missing the feeling of his warm tongue on you, but you really wanted to kiss him even more and that's exactly what you did as you pulled him up to attack his lips.

“you taste so good,” he groaned into your mouth, his hand caressing your inner thigh and squeezing it lightly to emphasize his words. his fingers moved up to find yoyr dripping pussy, sliding along your slit and coating his fingers with your juices. “so wet already, you were really waiting for this, huh?” he buried his face in your neck, smoothing your skin with kisses.

it was too embarrassing to admit it and it wasn't like you needed to since your body had been betraying you enough for quite some time now, so all you could do was move your hips down, trying to get his fingers inside you.

“oh, eager, aren’t we?” he teased, lifting his head to meet your gaze, his smirk growing as he noticed the way you bit your lip, your brows furrowed, and your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“please, don’t start teasing now,” you murmured, your voice soft but edged with a hint of urgency. you held back from saying anything too daring, not wanting to give him more fuel to prolong his playful torment.

he only chuckled softly, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek before capturing your lips again. this time, he didn’t hold back, finally giving you what you wanted.

a sharp intake of breath escaped your lips as he slid two fingers inside you, thrusting them steadily. he could feel your tight, warm heat clasping around his digits, letting him even more anxious to bury his cock deep inside you.

he began to rub soft circles on your clit with his thumb as he took your breast into his mouth again, the combined actions making you squirm beneath him and moan louder.

he curled and scissored his fingers inside you, soon feeling the way you clenched around them. "close already?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows, and your response was just a fierce nod followed by soft whimpers.

your confirmation made him withdraw his fingers and you whined almost in despair, feeling empty and unsatisfied as he wouldn't let you finish.

"calm down, princess," he lightly slapped your thigh. "i want you to cum on my cock, hm?" he kissed the tip of your nose as he finally got rid of his own clothes and quickly positioned himself between your legs. he collected some of your fluids to spread along his shaft, hard as a rock, twitching with need. "i'm gonna fill this pussy up so good,” he was as impatient as you, so he only teased your entrace with his tip and entered you slowly, grinding against your sensitive clit.

your hands gripped the sheets tightly as you felt him stretching you, filling up any remaining space in your pussy, while he groaned and closed his eyes, enjoying the way your pussy gripped him tightly as if it never wanted to let him go.

"god, you feel so good," he began to thrust his hips against your pelvis slowly, he could feel your tight heat enveloping him, pulling him deeper. one of his hands gripped your hip, holding you in place as he fucked you. "that's it, taking me so well," he encouraged, his pace slow and steady, letting you feel every inch of him.

he’s played with you a lot already, so it didn’t take long for you to feel your climax building again, and he seemed to notice it as he picked up the pace, leaning down to bury his face in your neck.

“cum for me, baby,” he bites you gently and pull away from your neck to watch your face, using his fingers to pinch your clit and bring you to the edge. wrapping your legs around his waist, your breath hitched in your throat as you clenched around him, feeling the knot in your stomach unravel as you creamed his cock.

he wasn’t that far behind you, the whole intense moment was enough to bring him to the edge too, he kept pounding into you and pulled out just in time to empty himself, covering your stomach with his release.

you looked so hot like that that he had to hold back the urge to bury himself inside you again immediately. he let a bit more of his weight press against you, his lips finding yours once more in a lingering kiss.

"okay," you murmured against his lips, slightly breathless, making him chuckle softly. "maybe I like you... just a little bit now."

"just a little?" he teased, nibbling your lower lip with a playful smirk. "didn't seem like 'just a little' to me."

you tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "i think we need to try it all over again so i can decide for sure.”

[ravens-two]

PAC: Your First Fight With Your Person

This reading includes:

your first fight with your person

how and why this fight happens

The extended reading includes:

what happens after this fight

how this affects your relationship moving forward

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Light On - Maggie Rogers

"Crying in the bathroom/ Had to figure it out/ With everyone around me saying/ you should be so happy now" 

Moon, Tower, Fool

Pile 1 your first fight with your person seems like it's going to be big one. I actually get the feeling that in this relationship you two don't really fight, even minor and harmless things. This feels like the type of couple that are always like "oh we don't fight we solve all our issues before it comes to that". Sometimes the problem with that is that the communication isn't as good as we think it is and small, but important things go unsaid. 

This really feels like one person really blowing up at the other. There are two different scenarios here: on one this fight happens because one of you tries to start a fight because of some other issue, on the other it feels more like there were little things that one of you tried to dismiss but couldn't thus triggering the fight. 

For the people in the first scenario I think that this fight happens for reasons outside of your relationship. It's going to be different for everyone and for some you might be the one starting the fight, while for others it will be your partner. No matter what the person that starts this fight is going through something very difficult to deal with. This could be problems with work, family, money or mental health. Because this person doesn't really know how to deal with these problems they become combative (in general though not just with their partner) and try to pick fights with other people because they're angry and frustrated. In the end, this is very much an ego thing. For the people in this scenario this fight will affect your relationship not because of what's being discussed, but more because of this person's behavior.

For the second scenario I'm seeing that you're probably going to be the one that starts the fight, but it's because you can't handle the way your person has been treating you anymore. I see a lot of gaslighting here, so it might be that you tried to talk about some issues in the past and your person tried to make you believe that they weren't really issues or that you were unreasonable for wanting to enforce boundaries. I think that you may believe them for a while, but then all of a sudden you get clarity and realize that your person is the one who is actually in the wrong and you kind of blow up on them. You might decide to suddenly confront your person and you won't allow yourself to be gaslight anymore.

In general, the reason for this fight happening seems to be because one or both of you want more freedom. You might feel that your person is controlling or trying to control you and you feel a bit suffocated in the relationship (or the other way around).

No matter the scenario these fights feel very aggressive (not violent though, but there's definitely screaming here). Also with the song that came up for your pile this fight might be particularly hard for you because on the surface this relationship seemed so perfect, but this fight will make you see a whole other side to your person that isn't that great.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 2

Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven?/ will you ever win?"

Four of Pentacles, Death, Queen of Cups

Pile 2, this fight happens because you have become attached to something. It could be that it's caused by one of you having unreasonable expectations of the other or because there's a change that's hard to accept. Like for the previous pile, there are different scenarios here. For some people this fight is going to be about trying to hold on to something that needs to change as I'd already said. This could be a lot of different things. For some of you it may be related to a certain expectation of your partner (or vice-versa) that they can't fulfill. For example, in earlier stages of your relationship you might have had a date night every week, but due to some changes (with schedules for example) your partner can't make it anymore. Even though you know it's not really their fault you're still frustrated with them and the situation and it's what causes this argument. There's a big need here to allow things to change and move forward.

When it comes to a partner having unreasonable expectations it could be related to what I've already said in the sense that it was something that happened before, but now it can't happen for whatever reason. Or it could be that one of you has idealized the other, or simply has certain expectations of the other that can't be fulfilled. Just because it's not realistic for you and your person, and for your circumstances. Again, there's this sense of frustration here at the situation that causes the argument.

For some of you this is related to money. It could be that you're having some money problems and it's straining your relationship. You might disagree with the way your partner spends their money or you might feel that they're not doing enough (no matter if it's actually true or not). For others it's because you feel that your partner is stingy with money or that they don't want to invest in you. This makes you feel as though you're not as important to your partner as you should be. This conflict is caused by that feeling of feeling like you're not considered as priority to your person.

Unlike pile 1 this fight doesn't seem aggressive at all. I actually think that it's going to be quite civil in a way. It's like you're arguing but you're still keeping your voice down and trying to stay calm even if it's hard. Although I do think that this fight is very emotional for both of you and you might need to take some time away from each other to calm down. This might be very triggering for some of you, but you'll both do your best to actually communicate what you're feeling and what has hurt you. I also think that this first fight is going to happen at home, it might be triggered by a conversation that you're having while hanging out.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 3

Heaven is Here - Florence + the Machine

"I went to the water, drank every drop/ I''ll turn your sea to a desert"

Knight of Cups, Nine of Swords, Knight of Wands

Hey pile 3, this is the most clear-cut pile so far. While the two previous piles had various possible scenarios going on, this really feels like it's all about jealousy and insecurity. It's always going to be different for everyone of course, but I feel like here the problem is that your person did/does something that makes you feel insecure in the relationship. It may be that they have an habit of flirting with everyone, or it could be something completely harmless and unintentional. For some of you it happens because you may have been going through a rougher moment when it comes to your self-esteem and you may think that your partner isn't interested in you anymore. It could be that they make a comment about how nice or good-looking someone is and you take it as them being interested in that person.

For some this happens because your partner used to be a playboy/playgirl and you feel like they'll eventually just want to go back to their old ways and that you'll never be good enough for them. For a smaller part of you I feel like the jealousy is warranted because your partner might really be toeing the line of cheating and staying faithful.

The common thread here though, is that a certain action from your partner makes you jealous and makes you feel insecure (in yourself and your relationship). This really is the big reason for this fight. As to how it happens I think that this isn't immediate. I feel like you'll stew in these feelings for a bit - trying to ignore these feelings and just progessively feeling worse. I really think that this situation will make you feel really anxious and probably it might mess with your self-esteem too. Then, I feel that for most of you your partner will try asking what's wrong, trying to understand what happened, but you keep shutting them down until eventually you decide to let it all out.

The argument itself feels like it's going to be very emotional for you - I see some of you crying - but not so much for your partner. Most of them won't really understand where this is coming from and they're more caught off guard than anything else. For most of you I also think that this is going to happen while you're in the car. It may happen somewhere else of course, but I really get this feeling of being a confined space where you can't get away from your person.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

Pile 4

Someone New - Hozier

"Cause God knows I fall in love just a little, oh, a little bit/ Every day with someone new"

World, Knight of Pentacles, High Priestess

Pile 4 this honestly feels like the tamest fight out of all of the piles. This honestly has such a lighthearted vibe that it almost feels like you're in the middle of arguing and your person will say like "I can't believe you'd do such a thing" in a really dramatic way and you'll burst out laughing. Like it really feels like your fight almost happens in waves, like first you're sad or frustrated and you're telling them as much and the next you're laughing and the tension has dissipated. 

I also feel that this argument might happen over the phone. The people in this pile might be in a long distance relationship or you or your person might have travelled when this fight happens. So, this will probably happen while you're FaceTiming or something like that. I also see the video or image freezing and that making you guys frustrated but at the same time it makes it funnier, because one you will be like "we can't even argue in peace" or smt like that. It seems that you two have a really good sense of humor.

Honestly I don't think that there's any really strong reason for this fight, or it will be something that's completely different for everyone. Some possibilities that I see is that you're missing your person (or vice-versa) and you're frustrated at the distance and maybe the reason why you're distant in the first place. You might also argue about one of you working too much and not having enough time to spend together. For some of you I think that you'll argue just because you're a bit bored and you want to spice things up. For others it's just because you want to make your person mad so that they will take it out on you 😏

In general though, this fight doesn't really seem serious. It's like you both know that this doesn't change anything and if there really was a problem you would talk about it in a more mature way. Again, I think that you two have a really good sense of humor and that really helps too.

Check out the extended reading on patreon

[blacktofade]

not sure if you're still taking gemtho prompts but something with secret relationship/relationship reveal 👀 that isn't much to go off of so it could definitely be paired with another prompt too, i just love that trope (my brain goes to rpf since i love the idea of them trying and failing to hide a relationship from the viewers, but could be in game too)

I'm back to fill more gemtho prompts from earlier this year! I'm not setting a schedule though. You guys will get them as I find time and/or motivation. Enjoy!!

--

Impulse first notices him when Gem steps through the front door of the hotel in Detroit. She’s laughing, glancing over her shoulder at him, and he’s smiling, one hand tucked against the small of her back, the touch clearly familiar. He’s tall with dark hair, and sticks close as Gem pauses just inside the entrance way, dropping her backpack on the ground and crouching to dig through it.

For just a moment, the man looks over, maybe sensing Impulse’s stare, but he doesn’t react, just glances back down at Gem, offering his hand on her elbow when she stands up again. She’s holding something that might be her wallet, but she passes it over, saying something that Impulse can’t hear from across the other side of the lobby.

The man dips down, kissing Gem — quick and chaste — and she smiles, watching him walk away toward the check-in desk.

Impulse almost startles when she turns, catching his gaze, like she’s known he was there the whole time.

Her smile widens and she pulls her backpack on, jogging toward him, as though she can’t contain her excitement.

“Impy!” she says, dragging him into a hug once she’s close enough, and it’s effortless to fold around her, quickly forgetting about everything apart from how much he’s missed her.

“Hey, Gem,” he murmurs into her hair, giving her an extra squeeze, just so she knows how happy he is to see her.

“Is that Gemstone?” a voice says behind them and Gem laughs, finally letting Impulse go as Skizz moves in to sweep her up, lifting her straight off the ground.

“Careful,” Impulse warns, stepping back, but neither of them seem to hear and Tango laughs as he sidles up beside him.

“You think they’re listening?”

“About as well as my kids,” Impulse scoffs and Tango laughs again.

“Are you surprised?”

Impulse isn’t. At all. What he is surprised by is the guy Gem’s with, who’s now edging past them, carry-on bag in tow. But he doesn’t stop to check in with Gem, doesn’t even glance in their direction, just heads toward the elevators, a keycard held in one hand.

“Did you know Gem was bringing her boyfriend?” Impulse asks without thinking, and Tango offers him a look, like he’s lost his entire mind.

“Why would she tell me?”

Which he supposes is his issue, because why would she tell him either? They’re close, but he’s far from being Gem’s confidant.

Impulse tries to shrug as casually as he can. “Was just wondering.”

In front of him, Gem finally untangles herself from Skizz’s grasp before noticing Tango’s there.

Their hug isn’t as enthusiastic — probably much to Tango’s relief — but Gem pulls away, grinning.

“It feels good to be back together,” she tells them. “Where are the others?”

Impulse is pretty sure Grian’s napping in his room, and Pearl isn’t due in until later that night, but he thinks False and Zed are in the hotel’s bar already.

“They’re around,” Skizz promises. “C’mon, let’s get you a drink. You look like you could use one.”

Gem blows out a breath. “I look that bad, huh?”

“The worst I’ve ever seen,” Skizz jokes, nudging her with his elbow as though to make sure she knows he’s only messing about.

“Not surprising,” Gem starts, already walking with Skizz, heading toward the back of the hotel. “The airline lost my bag.”

Impulse finds himself following, automatically glancing over at the elevators as they pass. But the mystery guy isn’t there and Gem doesn’t seem concerned about wandering off without him.

“Man, that sucks,” Skizz says and Impulse belatedly makes a noise of agreement.

“Might need a couple of drinks,” he adds and Gem laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Please.”

-

Gem shows up for breakfast in a flannel shirt that definitely isn’t hers. She makes it look good — the bottom of it tied at her waist, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows — but the collar hangs open, the shoulders too broad.

It’s a man’s shirt.

“Heard anything about your luggage?” he tries, digging into the scrambled egg whites that he’d paid extra for.

Gem shakes her head, sipping at a mug of tea, a picked-apart pastry in front of her. “Nothing yet. Think I’m gonna have to do a clothes-run before the event today.”

Gem doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d enjoy a last minute shopping spree, but maybe she’ll drag Pearl with her to make it fun. Or maybe her secret boyfriend.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asks, tipping his head toward the shirt she’s in, and she smiles like they both know damn well what.

“Did you sleep well?” she asks, cleanly changing the subject completely, and Impulse shouldn’t be surprised.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m so nervous, I think I’m gonna have to take a second shower later.”

She laughs, not unkindly. “You’ll have a good time once it starts,” she promises, and Impulse knows that, but that doesn’t mean the jitters will go away.

“What about you?” he asks. “How’d you sleep after everything?”

She takes another mouthful of tea, swallowing before answering. “We woke up early. I guess even just a little time difference can mess me up.”

We. Not I. She means herself and whoever’s up in her room right now.

“You’ll both have to go to bed earlier tonight,” he says, wanting to push, to make sure she knows he heard the slip-up, and Gem grins, clearly enjoying this game they’re playing.

“Guess so,” she agrees, but Impulse already knows that with the group they have, there’s no way anyone is bailing early.

Impulse takes a drink of his coffee, watching her silently, and under the table, her foot gently knocks into his own, once and then again — not an accident.

“This’ll be a fun weekend,” she says and something uncurls in Impulse’s stomach.

He’s getting too caught up in his own thoughts and she’s right. They’re there to have a good time.

Gem keeping part of her life private isn’t something he should take personally. If he did, he’d need to have beef with everyone else on the server. Except maybe Skizz. He almost knows too much about that guy.

He offers her a smile and finds himself nodding. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It will.”

-

He might be less upset about the situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to push.

“Snacks for later?” he asks when they’re riding the elevator back upstairs together, watching as she tries to carry a cup of coffee, a banana, a chocolate muffin, and a bowl of fresh fruit.

She glances over at him, the corner of her mouth curled up, before she holds out the bowl.

“Can you hold that for me?”

She doesn’t answer the question, but Impulse still finds himself doing as she asks. He’s a sucker like that.

“Didn’t know you liked coffee,” he tries instead, and her eyes are bright, like she knows what he’s doing.

The elevator slows, the doors opening with a quiet groan.

“C’mon,” Gem says, tipping her head. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Impulse’s room is two floors above and he knows he should probably go back so he can brush his teeth and get ready for the rest of their day, but he hesitates, watching Gem hold the door with her elbow.

He waits a beat, then another, and then nods, his curiosity getting the better of him.

She’s silent as she leads the way down the hallway, but eventually she stops by a room near the fire exit, knocking on the door in a familiar rhythm.

Apparently, she didn’t bring her key. But it doesn’t matter, because after a moment, the door swings open to reveal the man Impulse had seen the day before.

His expression is gentle when he looks at Gem, but shifts into something cooler — maybe a little uncertain — when he notices Impulse is there with her.

“I wanted you two to finally meet,” Gem says, glancing between them, and for some reason Impulse feels the need to vet the guy. Like Gem is his daughter and he wants to make sure she’s not picking up some random lowlife, someone Impulse deems unworthy.

He squares his shoulders and holds out his hand.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m Scott.”

The guy in the doorway shifts, smiling as he takes Impulse’s hand and shakes it firmly.

“Hi, Scott, I’ve heard so much about you,” the man says, and Impulse’s eyes widen as he recognizes the voice.

Gem laughs, delighted, stepping closer to fit herself against the man’s side, grinning at Impulse, clearly pleased with herself.

Impulse finally drops his hand back down, but there’s no doubt in his mind.

“Etho?” he asks, earning a laugh — the same he’s heard in-game so many times before.

“Hey, Impulse,” Etho replies easily, and Impulse’s mind goes a little blank.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a half-way point for both of us,” Gem tells him. “We figured it would be an easy way to meet up again.”

Again.

“Again?” he echoes and Gem nods, like it’s not a big deal. “How long have you been meeting up?”

It feels easier to ask than whether or not they’re actually dating. Ironically, after everything, he’s suddenly almost certain it’s none of his business.

Gem shrugs with one shoulder. “First time was just before season ten began? We wanted to wait a bit before we told anyone. Y’know, in case.”

They obviously hadn’t needed to worry about that — the proof being they’re both there together, Gem tucked comfortably under Etho’s arm, like it’s exactly where she belongs.

“He’s gonna join us for the roadtrip,” Gem continues. “I thought maybe we could grab dinner together?”

Impulse is nodding before his brain can catch up. “Of course,” he agrees. “Anytime. I’d love that.”

He stares between them a little longer before laughing, perhaps from the adrenaline of the surprise.

“Skizz isn’t going to shut up about this when you tell him,” he says. “Do you know how many questions I made him cut from the podcast?”

“Part three?” Etho jokes with a laugh and Impulse shakes his head.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he warns. “The first thing out of his mouth is gonna be ‘I told you so.’”

“We weren’t being subtle,” Gem agrees. “We’ll let him have that one.”

“I can’t believe — ” Impulse starts before laughing again. “As if my nerves weren’t frayed enough today.”

“We’re about to really find out how good you are at keeping secrets,” Gem jokes and Impulse snorts.

“Hope you guys are ready to go public then.”

Gem shifts, grinning up at Etho, who smiles back, and Impulse can see it — the affection, the respect between them.

“I think we could be,” she says, and when Etho nods, Impulse can tell they’re not lying.

Out of everyone — anyone Gem could’ve picked — he knows she’s made the right choice.

“I’m happy for you both,” he says, and as Gem smiles at him, brighter than he’s ever seen, he finds that he means it.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: arguments with zb1

a/n: omg i posted before midnight this is a big win

notes: yujin is not included due to his age!

wc | 1.9k

jiwoong

the best way i can describe an argument with jiwoong is “mature”

you guys don’t argue often at all so when you do there’s usually a good reason for you to be arguing

perhaps it has to do with your living situation, or you’re not taking an issue jiwoong talked to you about as seriously as he wants you to be, or you feel like he’s spending too much time away from you

whatever it is, your argument will last max 3 days

day one is reserved for sulking, and you might end up staying the night at a friend’s house while jiwoong sits with hao and hanbin and tries to work through what he’s feeling

day two is for thinking—both of you think through things rationally and take mental notes on what you did wrong and what you think was on the other person

then, day three is for talking it out. you’ll decide on a place to meet that isn’t home, and you’ll work through everything while not getting upset or saying something unwarranted.

then, afterward, you’ll go home together and do something light and fun to cheer the both of you up

things go back to normal within four days, and you don’t think about the issue ever again

zhang hao

fights with hao are not fun

hot take but i think he’s the type of person to ghost you when you make him too upset

so whatever you’re fighting over, be it the dishes or something he said, once he gets angry enough he will just walk out and not talk to you for a while

depending on how upset he is it can be anywhere from less than a day to three or four days with no contact between the two of you

so yeah this is kind of a red flag but you don’t fight literally ever so it doesn’t happen enough for it to be a big issue

and his reasoning for ghosting you is that he doesn’t want to say something he doesn’t mean and/or can’t come back from

hao knows he’s the type of person to just say something wildly untrue when he’s mad and his worst fear is doing that to you

he returns from his mental retreat so apologetically, even if you end up thinking you were more in the wrong

will bring you an apology gift (usually it’s flowers or some sort of sweet treat) and always has some big long speech prepared

you also apologize if you feel it’s warranted (which is almost every time)

things will go back to normal in max two weeks

hanbin

fights with hanbin are big and emotional

like super emotional

this man is so in love with you that you being the source of any negative emotions is really hard for him to stomach

and it’s likely that, for the course of your entire relationship, you’ll fight maybe once or twice at most

so the fight you have is big and possibly the result of a lot of pent-up emotions that built up over a long period of time

you’re the one to walk out, and he’s full-blown sobbing by the time that happens

he feels miserable for the next couple of days

you two don’t ghost each other but it’s minimal contact and you can barely look at one another without crying lol

hanbin will probably end up staying elsewhere and you’ll stay home, drowning your sorrows in ice cream while you cry on the phone with your friends

when you’re both sound enough to work it out, you two just kinda cry apologies at each other

when the time comes for you to actually talk it out, it’s pretty easy and you’re left wondering what exactly the fight was over in the first place

hanbin will kiss every single part of you after the wound is patched up

and then he’s attached to you for the next couple of days lol

things go back to normal in maybe three-ish weeks? like that’s when he stops being super clingy and you go back to regularly scheduled programming

matthew

fights with matthew are small

he seems like the type of guy to be able to talk out big issues without it blowing out of proportion

so any larger problems the two of you are like … worked out via controlled and calm conversation

then you will have a blowout argument over you losing one of the sweatshirts you took without asking (your mom took it to the dry cleaners and didn’t tell you)

your arguments are petty and it’s a lot of really fake words thrown back and forth

so it’s not like one of you is being unnecessarily mean to the other, it’s from both of you

you don’t talk for a couple of days (also mutual) and then your mom’s dry cleaning shows up with the sweatshirt in tow

you send him a picture of it with some tear stains on it and he’s like … are you crying

then he’ll show up at your house not even thinking about the sweatshirt, just the fact that he doesn’t like it when you cry

will do anything to get you to stop crying

apologizes 18 times and puts on the tear-stained sweatshirt while going “wow, it’s so clean!” in hopes that you’ll at least laugh

after he fixes the crying situation you apologize too and suddenly it’s like it never happened

things go back to normal in a week

taerae

fights with taerae are quiet

tbh i just think his anger/sadness/any negative emotion is quiet

there’s no yelling, no crying, no insults, no nothing

the argument itself will be a bunch of isolated statements paired with scoffs, rubbing your tumbles, and feeling exasperated

neither of you leaves to cool off, and you just sit in different rooms after the fact

the next day might be a bit awkward and taerae will be somewhat cold towards you (and it would be a lie to say you don’t reciprocate the same exact energy)

but at some point during the day, while you’re sulking and laying down in bed, taerae will come in and lay down next to you

starts off by saying sorry and then you talk things out while just … laying there

he’s neither the type of person to take all the blame nor the type of person to shove all the blame onto you

like you could be entirely at fault but he will distribute responsibility equally between the two of you

he’s just the type of guy who really does not like arguing so he will do whatever he can to fix it quickly

after you’re done talking you’ll go on a long drive together

it’s aimless and quiet, but he holds your hand the whole time :)

things go back to normal within 3 days

ricky

i think fights with ricky are turbulent

you never really know the direction they’re going to go in you know

you don’t necessarily fight often but it’s not like you never fight, either

i think it’s a healthy amount of bickering

somewhat like an old couple LOL

if you have a big argument, though, it’s pretty much the least fun you’ve ever had in your whole entire life

ricky isn’t the type of guy to yell and cry but he’s the type of guy to give you a look that makes you feel like crying

i also think he’d struggle to take everything you’re saying seriously so he might laugh in exasperation from time to time

which obviously makes you angrier

i think if you end up crying, though, ricky will have like a crazy moment of clarity where he’s like … oh shit

cue some crazy introspection

you’ll run off somewhere else in the house and he’ll just sit on the couch and think

he’s practically taking notes on the entire thing, and studying what he thinks was the most out-of-pocket for him to say and what he needs to apologize for

after he’s gathered his thoughts he’ll seek you out and ask if you’re okay sitting down and talking with him

and he will wait however long he needs to if you say no

he essentially says everything he feels necessary, ends it off with an apology and kisses your hand

then it’s over

things go back to normal within the day

gyuvin

you bicker with gyuvin a lot and 99.9% of the time it’s silly and super unserious

that’s the type of couple you are yk

so your fights are born out of your little, unserious arguments actually going a little bit too far, and they last soooo long

and most of it happens in front of your friends which isn’t nice either

it starts out very small, with little jabs at one another

keeps amping up for the rest of the night, and once you both leave whatever hangout you were at, all your friends are like … they’re gonna fight guys get ready

they’re right

you argue the entire way home and when he drops you off he doesn’t even give you a good night kiss, which makes things even worse

you continue arguing over text and into the next few days all while acting like everything is fine

meanwhile, you’re texting your friends (separately) like can you believe that he just said that? can you believe he’s pulling this shit?

finally they lock you two in a room and tell you to figure it out because your arguing is annoying

you will painstakingly be like “okay maybe i went too far” and he essentially does the exact same thing

and then he apologizes for not giving you a good night kiss that one time and everything is fine

things go back to normal in like 2 weeks but just keep in mind for the entire 2 weeks you were just being passive-aggressive with each other

gunwook

arguments with gunwook are born out of stress and aren’t really arguments

he’s a busy guy who’s doing a lot of things and sometimes he bites off more than he can chew

which isn’t nice because he refuses to be like “hey i might have to lay off boyfriend duties for a couple of days so i can work through all these commitments i made without thinking” because he thinks he’ll be a bad boyfriend because of it

essentially you’re not even aware he’s getting upset with you until the stress bubbles over one day

he accidentally tells you to leave him alone and let him work which makes you sad :(

but you do because you pretty much understand that he’s overwhelmed

but you’re still upset so you don’t just forgive him and move on because … idk … if he talked to you it wouldn’t have happened in the first place

is this petty … kind of yes but if you want things to change you need to put your foot down!!!

so you spend the next two or three days missing your boyfriend a miserable amount before he texts you saying “can we talk”

of course you can

you practically sprint to his house

and you talk!! and he apologizes for being mean to you while promising it won’t happen again

and gunwook learns from his actions so it really doesn’t happen again

things go back to normal in 3-4 days

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

[guardian5tiger3]

waddup guys here's a tarot reading -

1. 2

3. 4

GROUP 1

You guys are sharing or giving something to other people , either this is about work, something you create and share possibly online , somebody is a painter, or generally giving your time and energy to friends family or coworkers..

Something is going to blow up or someone is and it seems you guys are either in or will be in a state of distress or being tired or dealing with some clinical issues like depression .. it feels like you're being drained because you have neglected to take time to recharge and it almost seems like you or horribly, other people are just waiting for you to quit or freak out or something like that ..it seems like an issue where you're being stubborn cause you don't want to give up . This is reminding me of a short story by an author about joining a small work group and then putting him through so much physical labor hoping he ends up quitting, but him being way too stubborn to quit so no one thinks badly of him and cause he wants that money , but people purposefully pushing him and putting a lot on him like that actually hoping he quits . Some of you are hoping it reversed in a way and everyone else in this situation ends up beefing , like , fighting with each other or all being in some type of conflict. For some of you that would happen if you quit or leave . It seems like a negative feeling or state of being is still around over time even if you forget for a minute but then when you relax or something it still is like that . The advice here is to make sure you are putting your energy in a very personalized way , something that you would be proud of or happy to do . You might want to find a different job or start doing things to your liking . I just channeled a song by twenty one pilots - lane boy . You also might want to watch the video . Do what you want how you want to do it basically, do not people please at this time . I do feel like there are messages to get out of the song and video for you all also so, check that out . I also am feeling it's hard for y'all to move on from something and you should target a possible insecurity within yourself about not wanting to let go of something out of fear you won't get something else or you'll be left with nothing or in lack if you do .

Group 2

It seems like y'all have chosen a path in life that was predicted somehow at some point or is a type of destiny you have and there might be writing on the walls in your past about this happening now . You probably feel towards this like you've won in some type of way. I heard " in charge " . I think a group of people are plotting to go through some type of conflict in order to come towards you . If they did you might see you deciding to choose whatever path they have to offer you as moving towards conflict but I think your truest self would actually see this as more comfortable, exciting, and fitting for yourself . I think whatever is going on right now for you , you can't see the future about it and you don't fully realize that it would be like, boring or mundane or something like that somehow . I don't see this other path these people have to offer as negative I actually agree it seems that it would be more fun and more fitting for how you all are and would not cause you harm . I'm picking up on the heart .I think if there's an outer circumstance that would cause you to lean towards working or being with these other people in whatever way it's a sign to do so . Cause if this opportunity arrises you might feel defensive because it's basically not familiar to you at this point in time or it seems like unstable somehow because of that also . For some of you this is an emperor person come towards you for sure possibly in terms of love and if you already know them you might have an issue with wherever they have been since you last talked or saw them . If these people show up it's a good opportunity to say whatever you might want to say or have wanted to say . You need to remember to not be scared , generally and also specifically in terms of missing out on anything . Focus on your heart . I'll leave y'all with that .

GROUP 3

Someone is trying to or will or has been trying to force themself into your life, energy , work . Something like that . It looks like you've either told someone to get them to leave you be or you've told this person to go away basically or stop and you've had to defend yourself . This person is either back and forth somehow or has drastically different sides to them and their own character or personality . This may be a suitor of some sort, romantically and you may not realize that the case is that they like you like that but some of you do know this . This is kinda terrible but it seems like they must have been abused at some point or something so it seems like telling them no or rejecting them makes them want everything to do with you more . Cause it reminds them of a past dynamic they had probably in childhood or early teens . They're used to being treated a certain way so that's what they're used to that's what they like and know how to work with that . I think they think you'd be good for each other in any type of way . The outcome and advice is super different for all of you . Some of you have actually been harsh and should include this person and some of you didn't realize this and might get curious or something or treat them nicer or even inquire about a relationship or something who knows . You could end up being kind of abusive to this person or something . Not severally just taking advantage of their vulnerability so , no offense but make sure that's not what becomes of you in a situation like that make sure you pay attention to how people might feel cause some people will do anything for you and never mention if theyre hurting or if it's too much , if this is still resonating right at this point and you also feel overwhelmed just talk nice to them and keep a distance I think this persons attention span is short and this very well can just be a phase and they'll move on mentally pretty quick within a few weeks cause it's just a crush or some type of interest they have in you . For a few this also could be something well in the past that you should look back on and maybe come to terms with something or better yourself for any way you may have treated anyone . This seriously could have been high school or many years ago for a few of you .

Group 4

You guys are lucky . I'm seeing something about a metaphor like eyes in the back of your head but it's more like you can only see in front of yourself not behind yourself ,so you never truly can see everything or a full true picture of anything . You guys might be the philosophical type . Someone you or someone else has been in some type of severe trouble or something and someone else was abusing you or whoever this is or taking from them and this is truly a horrible disgusting energy but it's looking like the person who went through whatever traumatic thing this is has since been freed and has a lot to themselves and is looking great now for the most part . I think this person or you has so much of whatever it is energy, luck, material things, good looks because of how they were " taken from " in the past . This seriously could have been a torturous type of abuse . It seems like someone important to the person who was abused or taken from in the past has someone very important to them like a friend or soulmate that was turned against them because of this. It's possibly you're the person who was manipulated into turning against someone else that had been abused heavily . If that's the case there's a high chance you still think negatively of this person or if you're this person someone thinks that way about you still. It's because of whoever was being abusive and also possible people that person has in their corner . This person that was abused is looking good now or in the near future but they still deserve mercy and forgiveness and things like that by a lot . Funny it also looks like the abused person has no clue how they got to a point of being in a better vibe . The universe might be all that sees the truth about this person and situation entirely . So it shouldn't be a question as to why they have good luck or whatever happened or is happening here for them . It's possible there isn't a living person who sees their side . So either you are someone that is supposed to be there for them and important and you need to seriously rethink some things or question anything you've been told or shown or whatever . Or you're this person that was abused . If that's the case you need to strengthen your relationship with the universe or whatever you wanna call it god, spirit. Because there's infinite love for you there and it'll bring you closer to your soulmate the more you do that also . I think if you have a pet to lean on that pet for support and love also . No matter what happens just try to have a relationship or faith in the universe cause I'm seeing a physically ending possible having to move homes . If that happens at any point or has it's most likely to get you away from something dangerous so it's a good thing even if you don't see that . I think whoever is reading this has to front to other people or wear a mask . Basically you have to learn to love and accept yourself and heal any trauma that was inhumane that made you any type of insecure or anything . Pretty typical thing to say I know but in this instance it really rings true . I think youll naturally do this over time how you are but it's good to consciously try to do it , it'll probably happen faster for that . But don't push yourself too far . Feels like there might be a lot of different random things to focus on or you have adhd I don't know . A hot drink once in a while would be good to calm you down . Coffee tea or hot chocolate or something ya know .