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the-kr8tor · 2 days ago
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She Chose Me
Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader
Synopsis: Ekko asks you to help him pierce his ear, but it leads to something unexpected.
Word count: 2.2k
Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), established relationship, childhood friends to lovers (speed run edition), lovestruck! Ekko, spoilers for season 2, CW blood mention, fluff.
@yumeaoka-chan -- I combined your prompt (using z-drive after R confesses) with this one I hope it's okay! If not I can still do your request 🫶
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“Stop moving, Ekko.” Your hands pause on his ear lobe, the needle in between your index and thumb shakes slightly from trepidation.
“I'm not.” He says, brows pinched together, nose scrunched up in front of the cracked hand mirror he's holding.
“Yes, you are. You're fidgeting.” Leaning down, knee pressed on the side of his thigh whilst he's sitting down on a tiny stool. Chin laying atop his shoulder, you stare at him through the mirror. “Just breathe, boss man.” He huffs at the nickname, the small smile on his lips betraying the annoyed huff.
Ekko seems confident in his seat, brown eyes steady, breathing stable and his hands don't tremble despite the looming danger he's about to face. Danger you're about to face.
The tree house is brightly lit with the warm lamp illuminating directly at him and you. But the air around you sits heavy with worry and fear for what's to come. He may seem fine on the outside, but he's frozen with fear inside. His stomach feels like it's about to flip at any moment, breath heavy inside his throat, and heart pounding with every second it ticks by. He's afraid, deadly afraid. But he won't let it show, especially to you. And yet, you know. You can see it in how his eyes dart back and forth from the clock ticking in the corner, then over to the reflection of your face. You've known him for a long time, ever since you grew up with him on the same streets.
Familiarity comes with it, affection dragged alongside the familiarity.
“I'll just do it myself.” Twisting around in his seat, stool squeaking, he tries to grab the clean needle from you. He fails when you move it away from his reach. “C’mon, if you don't want to do it, I'll do it.”
“Too late for that. Besides, I already disinfected it.” You tilt your head with the same look you give him whenever you catch him lying. Surrendering, he drops his hand to his lap.
“Then why are you hesitating?” His eyes narrow at you, trying to ignore how his jacket looks good on you. “Do you still not believe me that it'll look good?”
“No, I believe you.” You click your tongue, pushing the swivel stool so that his back is turned away from you. He rolls his eyes at your indignation. “I know you'll look good with anything, Ekko.” Lifting up the mirror with your hand wrapped gently around his wrist, you can see yourself in the mirror again, and how his eyes avoid your own. He doesn't flinch from the contact, he languishes in it. “It’s just that— your timing is a bit off.”
You've iced his bruises, lovingly painted on his face with the same hourglass shape almost everyday, it's only natural that you'd pierce his ear too. Despite your initial protest.
“No time like the present.” Ekko glances at your reflection, your eyes boring into the side of his head with worry. For a second, he contemplates whether or not he should tell you what happened in the alternate universe. But he thinks it's better off telling you about his feelings for you rather than explain what he experienced. One day he'll tell you, but for now he focuses on winning the war so that day would come. It's easier to explain that he's been in love with you for the past seven or so years. But he won't actually do it now, right?
“I thought about it, Y/N. I'm sure.”
Smiling, you take his chin gently in your hand, making him face the mirror and in turn face you. “I know you don't do anything half assed.” Flicking your eyes at his hair, you smile wider, “I mean, that hair?” You whistle lowly. “You look fucking dapper, more than ready to take on the whole noxian army.”
Ekko swallows thickly, hands clammy, and the mirror in danger of slipping from his grip. “Thanks.” Inhaling, he hides his flustered self effortlessly. He's experienced in that area after years of doing it. He clears his throat. “Can you please just do it?”
“Of course.” You lean away, assuming the previous position of you holding the needle at his earlobe. He can't ignore how warm your hands are, or how your eyes trace the slope of his face with a sneaky look. “When you stop squirming that is.”
With a roll of his eyes, Ekko swiftly twists the seat to face you once again. The sudden momentum has you almost falling backwards, if not for his hands holding and catching you in place, you would've fallen flat on your back. You notice his warm hands on your bare waist, cropped shirt leaving your skin naked and in full display for him.
You thought that he would pull back from the contact and how you look at him with wild eyes, but within a second, he pulls you in, standing you in between his legs. Placing your hand on his shoulders, and the other accidentally on his bare stomach, you're careful not to poke him with the needle. Your eyes never left his, and his own never left the comfort of your stare.
“I don't…” His eyes stare intently, hands squeezing the dip of your hips. “...Squirm.”
Your skin is aflame, goosebumps spreading like wildfire all over you. “N–No, you don't.” You feel like a puddle, and he's ready to soak you right up.
He nods once, taking your wrist and placing the needle to graze at the shell of his ear. “Glad we could finally agree.”
Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you sigh. “I'm worried about you, Ekko.”
“Is that why you're stalling?” He asks, leaning against your hand as he stares up at you with soft eyes.
“That, and I've only pierced ears thrice in my life. Two for me, one for Scar.” Chuckling, you brush your thumb right under his tired eyes. There's a shine on those eyes you love so much, something akin to hope. You know he saw something in those months he was gone. He isn't ready yet to tell you, but you're willing to wait and stick around just for him. He doesn't even need to tell you anything, he's already here back with you and that's enough. “I–I don't know what's gonna happen out there. I know not getting injured is out of the question, but please, I still want to tell you to be careful.”
His vision flashes back to you in the other universe, where your eyes aren't permanently etched with fatigue, lips forever pressed together in a smile. She was you, and her lips were on his own for a moment. But he knows you and her aren't the same person. Both were born and raised in Zaun, but lived in two different circumstances.
And yet, both chose to be with him.
“Ekko?” With your voice calling him, he blinks and your face greets him back, the same face he grew up with, the same face he loved throughout the years. “I won't pierce your ear until you promise me.”
“I love you.” He blurts out, but not lacking sincerity.
You chuckle, needle almost slipping from your fingers. “You do?”
“Yeah, figured, why the hell not?” His nonchalance helps hide his apprehension.
“Is this your way of making me pierce your ears?” You say through the unshed tears.
Ekko raises a brow, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. “You're stalling again.”
“This time I'm not.” Sitting down on his lap to level with him, he graciously lets you with his hand pushing on your waist so you could be closer to him. His hands never left your body, holding you in place. Cupping his cheeks, you pull him closer to your waiting lips. “I was just taking the time to simmer in your confession. Scar owes me lunch.”
“You bet on—? Shut up about Scar—” with a soft push against the small of your back, he meets halfway with you. Finally sealing your lips with a much awaited kiss.
Ekko hums against you, the sound reverberating from your lips down to your chest, filling it with warmth. He holds you flush against him. Chest to chest, arms holding you impossibly closer. The sound of your lips in sync with his echoes around the small room. Eyes closed, you memorize how he feels on you, how his breath stutters against you, and how his eyes fluttered closed the second you kissed him back with the same softness and fervent.
His hands slither across your back until he blindly reaches for the back of your neck, pulling you closer, angling your face to better kiss you fully. It's the first kiss out of many, sloppy, smiling in between, teeth still clashing together, and nose knocking against one another, but it still has you breathless in his arms.
“Ekko.” You whisper, leaning slightly away to intake air back into your lungs. “I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”
He blinks, hand moving away from you to pull at the rope on his z-drive. The world goes back a few seconds with you locking lips with him, heaving in place, hands balled around his hair.
“I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”
He beams at you, pulling and releasing the rope back to reverse time once more to hear the words he has only heard in his dreams.
You pull back away from him, lips obviously kissed. “I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”
Ekko chuckles, placing his forehead atop yours to breathe you in. You giggle, releasing his hair to slide your hands down and move towards his chest to feel his beating heart against your palms.
“Sorry, just wanted to hear you say it again. You fell for me because of that?”
Your brows furrow at his peculiar words. Eyes moving at his hand that's still clutching the rope, you laugh. “You could've just asked me to say it again. The wrench probably knocked something loose.” You joke, still panting from the kiss.
Leaning away, his knuckles brush along your jaw then down to your lips where he wipes the sheen with his thumb. “And I wanted to kiss you again.”
“You should've said so.” Your eyes are practically shaped like hearts. “Pucker up, Ekko.”
He smiles, closing the distance once again. The kiss was much more familiar this time, soft and gentle, savouring every second of it. Your nose still nudges his own, but it's intentional this time. He still smiles during the kiss, but it's because you do too. Once he reluctantly moves away to inhale, you grab his face, pecking all over his cheek, chin, nose and forehead, until there's no space that's left unkissed. You pull away, and he does the same, lips smacking carefully against the tip of your nose, in between your eyes, and cheekbones, until you're a giggling mess in his arms.
Ekko looks at you with a lopsided smile, giddiness etched on his ecstatic expression. “Now we're both stalling.”
“At this point we're not getting anything done. Baby blue might bust in here to tell us off.”
“Later then.” He promises, a promise to be careful, a promise that he'll come back to you alive.
You nod, kissing him chastely, eyes tightly closed with a hope that your kiss would single handedly protect him. Pulling away, you grin at him, easing him some more. “Later, I promise.” You vow him the same thing.
“Okay,” he pats your thigh, reluctantly lifting you off his lap. “Come and stab me.”
Shaking your head with a smile, you take a fresh needle and quickly disinfect it since the needle you were holding onto is long gone in between the floorboards. Cleaning your hands, you shake your nerves away, and the trembling in your hands, not from the anxiety but from his breathtaking kiss.
Holding his ear lobe, you're the one holding your breath in once he nods at you to do it. With the needle piercing him, and the new silver hoop earring in, you marvel at the sight of your handiwork.
You hold the mirror up, showing him the back. “You didn't bleed much, thank fuck. What do you think?”
Ekko, rotates on his seat again, grabbing you by your hips with his finger looped around your belt loops and pulling you closer as he looks up at you with endearment.
“I like it, what do you think?” He plops his head on your shoulder, careful not to nudge his new piercing.
“You're right, it suits you. You look very handsome.” You whisper, hand splayed over his back, and lips blowing air into his warm ear, making him flinch away. He looks at you, feigning offense but his mirrored smile says otherwise. “You're welcome, you still need to pay me though.”
“Oh really?” The silver earring sparkles in the light as he tilts his head teasingly. “In what kind?”
You pretend to think. “Hmm, I'll take payment in kisses.”
He shrugs, taking your chin in between his fingers. “Pucker up then. I have too much so I expect some spare change right after.”
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simpjaes · 2 days ago
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what do you think abt being jake’s newly gf, always being super cute and thinking he was super innocent. only ever kissing here and there and holding hands in your relationship
but then u find out after he left his phone unlocked to go to the bathroom, u curiously see one of his tabs open to a twitter link, and shockingly seeing the most vulgar videos that u can infer jake gets off too in secret
tags: jake has a HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE fucking gigantic cock. a mini fic is tagged as the continuation.
"Oh...that's...hot." You mutter in thought, staring down at the evidence in your hand, all huddled up on the couch. It had been a few weeks now since the two of you became official, or whatever. That's a few weeks of close to nothing in terms of sexuality though, mostly just a few kisses here or there, maybe a hug where he pulls you close and kisses you just slightly harder than usual. Always keeping his lower half away from you though.
For a while there you were wondering if the dude was a virgin. Given, well, he fucking acts like one. But now, oh...now. If, for some reason, he was a virgin, you wouldn't expect an interest such as this one.
You stare down at the muted phone, internally on fire as you watch a woman get absolutely fucking obliterated by a man with a dick way, way too big. Like, to the point you know it's gotta hurt her. But still, you tingle at it, almost clicking the bookmark button as if forgetting this isn't your phone, only to remember that yes, this is Jake's phone, and it's already fucking bookmarked.
Your sweet, caring, soft-voiced boyfriend jerks off to this. To the mess of it, the tears this woman offers to the camera, the huge cock stuffing inside of her without so much as letting her adjust.
And god, don't get you started on the position. An ugly one, most would say, but you just know that she feels good. So, good.
"Uh..."
You jump in surprise at your boyfriend's awkward voice, practically throwing the phone across the room before you're able to close out or lock it. Somehow, luck isn't on your side and you guess when the phone hit your table before bouncing off of it and sliding onto the floor, it somehow ended up unmuted.
And now, you're staring at Jake, and he's staring at you, all with a woman moaning, choking, crying loudly on the floor just three feet away from his phone. You watch his cheeks darken before he scratches the back of his neck, side stepping to grab his phone and close out of everything. He avoids eye contact after that, standing there in the middle of your living room with a somewhat....amused look now. "I...wasn't snooping." You try to start, voice caught in your throat for both embarrassment in your own actions, but second hand embarrassment for him. After all, the ice hasn't been broken yet with him. The, uh, sexual ice. "It seems a lot like you were snooping." He shoots his gaze at you now, pocketing his phone and huffing. "Well?" "Jake, I swear I thought you were like, a virgin or something." You explain quickly and in a panic. "I just, was wondering if maybe you weren't interested in me, or like, had someone else or something you were interested in since we haven't like...you know-" He cuts you off quickly, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. "A fucking virgin?! Really?" He says it as if he's offended, then he walks up to you, and stands right in front of you. You're sitting on the couch, and he's standing to where his cock is basically at eye level with you. He arches his back slightly, grabbing his bulge, palming it, warming it up. Showing it to you. "I just wasn't sure if you could take it, if I'm being honest. Plus, it's not like you've ever tried." A switch in your brain flicks on. He's right, you haven't made any moves on him due to your...you know, assumptions. And he, apparently, hasn't made the move out of the assumption you couldn't handle it. "Take what, your dick?" You raise a brow. "Well, if it's anything like, uh, the one in th-" "It's exactly like the one in the video, why do you think I watch it?" He smiles, grabbing himself blatantly as if to prove to you that even half hard, he's huge. "Oh..." "So I was right?" He asks now, tilting his head down at you. "Can you take it?" Well... you guess you'll just have to try and see. ~ BIG DICK FOR DUMMIES: basically a continuation that i already wrote.
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schizononagesimus · 9 hours ago
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You know what I'm gonna add to this here instead of in the tags. I'm homeless. It's not my first time; I missed most of 4th grade because my mom is disabled and had just escaped an abusive boyfriend. We were mostly squatting then, because one of our friends owned some real estate and would leave the apartments unlocked for us when they were unoccupied.
I was kind of born into this. Seriously, I see why people think we're a "breed". Most homelessness is chronic, and a lot of people can't fathom why. But here's one scenario that might help explain that:
Your family is poor. Your family isn't exactly mentally well, either, so you mostly don't speak to each other; you have to make your own family and support networks.
You manage to go to a prestigious university on a scholarship once, and then manage to get student loans to get your Master's degree in a city far away from home. You work all throughout school, supporting yourself completely on your own.
You do groundbreaking research that becomes internationally renowned, earning you keynote talks, grants, journal publications.
Naturally, you apply for PhDs. And you get in! Without funding. And it's $40,000 a year without living costs. You can't take anymore student loans out- you've already hit the borrowing limit. Your family can't help you. During all of this, your job experiences a budget freeze, and has to slash their office staff by half. Suddenly, you have no job, no family to help with living expenses, and nothing lined up for... God, rent is due in 30 days.
You apply to jobs, but thirty days is never enough time to find anything, so you set up a GFM. It gets close to the goal, but is $300 off, so you take out an extra credit card to pay the last of your rent for that month.
You can't afford that rent again, it's just too difficult to swing in your situation, so you decide to move back to the city your undergrad was in, since you have friends there who you could stay with and more job opportunities. You reduce everything you own to two suitcases and get the cheapest flight out.
You sleep on your friend's sofa bed for a couple of weeks before a shitty retail job comes through for you. It doesn't matter what the job is, or that the money isn't enough, it's a job to at least keep you afloat for a little while while you look for other employment.
The problem? You have to save up money for an apartment. Housing is already scarce unless you know someone. Subletting a room is really your only option to have a place of your own, since you can't get a cosigner with good credit to back you up since your own credit tanked because you can't pay off the credit card debt you got into to prevent yourself from being suddenly homeless. You also don't have 3x the monthly rent in income, or a crazy savings account, or the money for a deposit. So you still have to sleep on your friend's sofa bed, even though you have a job.
You try to look for another job, but you're working so many hours that it's difficult to find the time. You work on your feet, so when you get home you just crash. The management at your job isn't good. In fact, it's so bad that someone in upper management regularly "takes advantage" of you being a minority. Disgusted, you tell your direct supervisor. The day after, you're fired.
Out of a job (and now in the middle of a pro bono lawsuit), your friends let you sleep on their sofa bed for a little while longer. You had spent most of your paychecks paying off debt so you could get an apartment, so you don't have much savings.
But eventually, your friends just need the space, plain and simple; they have other friends and family to take care of. You have to find somewhere else, and so you sleep on other friends' couches, and stay in hotels people put you up in, and stay with your partner when their roommate is gone, and try to set up a petsitting gig that might get you through one more month. Your friends introduce you to other people who might be able to help, too.
You try to apply to jobs. It's really hard to find the time to apply between changing houses and worrying about money, not to mention that you have to cross your fingers and hope they don't want an in person interview because you don't have the clothes for it. You're lucky you can use your alumni status for a private space to take an interview in at the library.
You want to apply to PhDs again, because if you get funding then that's it--this hell can end. But applying to PhDs was the hardest thing you ever did academically and by itself took every ounce of your time and energy--jobless and houseless, you simply don't have that right now. Hell, the only reason you're eating is because a friend made you leftovers. How are you supposed to apply to PhDs like this?
This is what happened to me.
I still have other unhoused people come up to me on the street and ask for money, and I have to tell them man, me too. And sometimes we get to talking about how the hell we ended up here. In my experience, it's mostly people like me- not a lot of family, a minority, an education of some kind, and one bad day.
Having degrees doesn't guarantee a job, and having a job doesn't guarantee housing. A lot of the reason people stay homeless is because you don't have the resources to get a job (interview clothes, a good internet connection, a place to take a call), the job market is a nightmare, they then need to save up for a house, the housing market is a nightmare, and then there's the problem of being hungry and needing healthcare (and in most states, you can't get government support on that without an address). Not to mention the issue with women's shelters generally being full up, and if they're not, you can only have a small locker of items with you... So say goodbye to most of your clothes and other items and have fun trying to buy those back if/when you get back on your feet. So basically, you're homeless because you don't have a job, and you don't have a job because you're homeless, and the cycle repeats. This is why homelessness is chronic.
This is why shit like tent cities happen, and that's not an option for me because my city has the cops sweep them out nightly. That's somebody's home (and God that tent cost a lot of money). Mostly my friends are just trying to keep me out of the shelter so I don't have to rebuild my entire life again, more so than I already have to.
I will say, I feel lucky that I've gotten the donations and other help I've gotten. The problem with being any minority is that your support system is most likely going to be people who are just at risk as you are. I'm also lucky I'm able to have healthcare, because straight up if I didn't I'd be dead without my medication.
This is just one example, and it's very different than what happened to my mom because of her disability--but that's her story to tell.
PS- in the US, there are four definitions of homeless, so please, if you hear "I'm couchsurfing" or "sleeping in my car," please hear HOMELESS. A lot of people are too ashamed to say it or just don't know that that's what they are because they have clean clothes and technically don't sleep outside.
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scarluna · 2 days ago
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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.
Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.
Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.
Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi
Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi
Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV
Word Count so far: 42.2k
Chapters: 5 / ?
Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers
A/N: Thank you all so much for the likes and the comments. I did not think this story would become so liked. Again, thank you and enjoy! x
ACT V.
I climbed onto the bus and found an empty seat near the back. The hum of the engine and the faint chatter of passengers filled the air, but it all felt distant. My mind was a swirling storm of everything that had happened, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I stared out the window as the city blurred past, the gray sky above mirroring the heaviness in my chest.
The tears threatened to spill again, but I clenched my fists and bit the inside of my cheek to hold them back. Not here. Not in front of strangers. I kept my face turned to the window, pretending to watch the scenery, hoping no one would notice how broken I felt inside. I had sunken in that headspace again, where I felt helpless and I didn't felt human at all. It was a nightmare for me. My mind was only stuck in the past and the pain was never ending cycle.
When the bus finally reached my stop, I stepped off into the cool air. My feet carried me the short distance to my apartment automatically, like I was on autopilot. The moment I closed the door behind me, the silence hit, and with it came the flood of emotions I’d been trying to keep at bay.
I dropped my bag by the door and slumped against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My chest heaved as the first sob broke free, and then another, and another, until I was crying uncontrollably. All the frustration, anger, and pain from today—hell, from the past few days—poured out of me in waves. I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking slightly, as if trying to comfort myself. Since I was a kid there was no one to comfort me, all the adults I once had believed in were never there for me. My dad was an alcoholic who used to mentally abuse me, my mom and my brother. My mother to this day is obsessed with control and she has always had the mentality of the victim. My brother was always the one who was cherished more, as the only boy of the family. And of course, I was thrown to the side with my emotional needs. So at this point, I had to be there for myself. And as grew up in adult, I felt comfortable crying and picking my pain alone rather than being vulnerable with someone. I knew I was broken, I didn't know how broken until now. 
I stayed like that for hours, crying until my throat was raw and my head pounded. Everything became a blur and I felt my body shaking. My breath was cut short and this is when I realized I was having an anxiety attack. I tried to grip at whatever I could find, my bag or my clothing as I sharply braeathed in and out of my nose, counting random numbers. At some point, my phone started buzzing incessantly, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to explain or relive any of it. I was busy prioritizing myself at this very moment and nothing else mattered.
When the tears finally stopped, I felt hollow. My body ached from the tension, and my eyes were sore and swollen. I sat there in silence for what felt like forever, staring at nothing, feeling like I had nothing left to give. Eventually, I forced myself to stand, my movements sluggish and heavy.
I shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off my clothes while the water heated up. The warmth of the shower felt soothing against my skin, like it was washing away the mess of the day and all the negative emotions I have felt until now. When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in a towel, drying off quickly before changing into sweats and grabbing Hades’ leash.
My dog greeted me eagerly, his tail wagging as if sensing I needed comfort. “Come on, boy,” I murmured, attaching the leash to his collar. His soft brown eyes met mine, and I felt a small pang of warmth in my chest. At least I had him. Hades was the only one that I felt was giving me the unconditional love I so desperately craved.
We went for a short walk around the block. The cold air biting at my skin but somehow grounding me. Hades trotted happily beside me, occasionally sniffing at patches of grass or barking at squirrels. His enthusiasm was a welcome distraction from the mess in my head, and for a brief moment, I felt like I could breathe again.
When we got back, I gave him a treat and collapsed into bed, wrapping myself in the blankets yet again. My body was exhausted, but sleep didn’t come easily. My mind replayed everything—the picture, Yoongi’s words, Rya’s betrayal, Tina’s cruelty—until I finally slipped into a restless slumber.
-
When my alarm went off, it took every ounce of willpower I had to drag myself out of bed. My eyes were dry, almost painfully so, but the crying had done its work—I felt an empty hollow shell of myself. I had realized that I slept for more than ten hours which was a record, yet I still didn't feel refreshed at all. I felt the same slump as I did yesterday. I didn't even manage to have any dinner, not that I felt like eating at all. In the last few days I skept meals way too much and I noticed my clothes growing bigger on me, which was odd because I wasn't a person to skip any meal. 
I finally went through the motions of getting ready: a quick shower, brushing my hair, slapping on some concealer to hide the evidence of my breakdown. The reflection in the mirror didn’t look like me at all. I couldn't recognize the person I had became. I was drowning in my own pain and it was getting harder to keep my head above the water. Grasping the sink, I stilled for a moment to give myself sometime to breathe. In and out. Until I felt I was grounded in my body and in my mind.
The bus ride to work felt endless. I kept my headphones in, the music drowning out the world around me as I stared out the window. I wasn’t ready for today, I wasn’t ready to face anyone, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to hold my head high and continue to push further. I shouldn't run away because these things would keep hunting me.
When I stepped into the office, the usual hustle and bustle felt distant, like I was walking through a dream.The people and their chatters almost sounded as an echo as I made my way toward my desk. It was Thursday now, and all I could think about was how close the masquerade ball was. 
I sat at my desk, turning on my computer and trying to focus, but my mind was still a jumbled mess. The excitement I’d once felt for the ball was gone, replaced by a dull ache in my chest. What was the point of pretending to care about it? Everything felt meaningless now.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to start working. One task at a time, I told myself. Just get through the day and go home. I was too mentally exhausted with everything at this point. I typed on my keyboard, my eyes raking over the screen and the e-mail I was typing.
The office felt heavier than usual as I worked, staring blankly at the screen in front of me. The steady hum of keyboards and muted voices of my coworkers swirled around me, but I didn’t register any of it. 
“Y/N?”
I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. That voice—soft, hesitant—made my stomach churn. I clenched my jaw, refusing to acknowledge her presence. My eyes stayed glued to the screen, fingers tapping faster on the keyboard in an attempt to appear busy.
“Can I talk to you? Please?” Rya’s voice was quiet, almost trembling.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t even turn my head. The silence stretched between us and I could feel her discomfort, her desperation hanging in the air.
“I just... I need to explain. I didn’t mean for it to—”
“Don’t.” My voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. I turned to her slowly, my expression cold and unyielding. “I don’t want to hear any of it, Rya. What's done is done.”
Her face crumpled, her lips pressing together as if trying to hold back tears. “I messed up, okay? I know I did. I—I shouldn’t have sent that picture to Hoseok. I thought it was just—”
“Just what?” I snapped, finally swiveling my chair to face her fully. “Funny? Harmless? What exactly did you think was going to happen?”
Her shoulders slumped, her gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, Y/N. I was just... being stupid. I didn’t think he’d actually—”
I held up a hand, cutting her off. “I don’t care what you were thinking, Rya. You sent something private—something personal—to someone else without my permission. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
She looked up at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just—”
“Make it right?” I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t. It’s done. And I don’t want your apology.”
Before she could say anything else, another voice interrupted.
“Y/N.”
I looked up to see Hoseok standing a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked guilty, his eyes avoiding mine at first before he forced himself to meet my gaze.
Great. Just what I needed.
“I want to apologize as well, it wasn't okay for me to do that—” he asked, his voice low.
I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “I don't need your apology.”
“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “I messed up as well, okay? I shouldn’t have shown that picture to anyone. I just wanted to show off how happy you looked that night. It was immature and wrong, and I’m sorry. I—I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear.”
I stared at him, my expression unreadable. “But you did. Both of you did.”
Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. He seemed worried and frustrated. “I know. I was stupid, and I regret it more than anything. I’ve felt like crap ever since. Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. Just give us a chance to make it up to you.”
I shook my head, standing up from my chair. “You don’t get to feel bad about this, Hoseok. Neither of you do. You made your choices, and now you have to live with them.”
Rya sniffled beside me, her voice barely a whisper. I could see that she has been crying, her eyes were red and her face was swollen. “Y/N, please—”
“No,” I said firmly, cutting her off. “We’re done here. Both of you, leave me alone.”
Without another word, I slowly stood up headed to the break room to escape the suffocating tension. My hands were trembling as I leaned against the counter, trying to steady my breathing. Thankfully they didn't follow me or else I'd have leashed on them even worse than I did back there. Soft sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes.
They might have been sorry, but their apologies didn’t mean anything to me. Not now. Maybe not ever. I could feel the entire office's eyes on me as I arrived here this morning, their judgy stares, the way they would whisper about me as I passed by . . . it almost felt like I was in high school all over again. I hated it.
The cool stream of water poured steadily into the glass I had picked from the cabinet as I focused on controlling my breathing. The break room felt quieter than usual, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the space. I brought the glass to my lips, taking a small sip, when the sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness.
I turned my head just as Jungkook entered the room, his sharp suit tailored perfectly, his posture confident yet somehow intimidating. He glanced at me briefly, his expression unreadable as he made his way to the coffee machine.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice even and professional as he greeted. That man was so cold. I could feel the chills in the room. He stared at my face for far too long to be comfortable. I tried to look away, but he grabbed my jaw. My breath stopped for a moment. The way he touched me, so gently, his skin felt burning sensation on me.* "Have you been crying?" he asked, tone low and demanding. I sighed and shrugged. "None of your business if I did." I could practically hear him roll his eyes. My Boss was not a man who tolerated such answers, but in my case, he remained silent. Instead, he changed the subject rather quickly and I was appreciating that, because I was not ready to talk about how I was with anyone. “About the 2 PM meeting today. You’ll need to be ready with the brief.”
I set the glass down on the counter, nodding. “I’ve got it handled.”
“Good.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and added, “Make sure Tina looks over it before you hand it to me.”
The words made me freeze for a split second. I turned to him, my expression hardening. “No.”
He looked up from his coffee cup, eyebrows slightly raised. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not giving Tina my work,” I said firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I’ll present it directly to you.”
Jungkook sighed, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms. “Y/N, Tina is your direct manager. It’s her job to review your work before it reaches me.”
“And it’s my job to make sure the work is actually done right,” I shot back, my tone sharper than intended. “Every time Tina gets involved, she messes things up. This is important, and I’m not taking that risk.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Fine. You can present it directly to me. But don’t let this happen again. The hierarchy is there for a reason, Y/N. We can’t just ignore it.”
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue further. It was already a small victory.
He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes briefly studying me. Then, in a tone noticeably cooler, he asked, “I hope you are feeling better than yesterday. That doesn't mean you should slack at your work, understood?” His gaze was sharp, and yet there was something softer lurking beneath the surface.
“I won't,” I said curtly, my defenses snapping back into place.
Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but he gave a slight nod before turning to leave the break room.
As the door swung shut behind him, I let out a slow breath. My hands still trembled slightly from the conversation me and him had, but I refused to let it show. If there was one thing I had to prove today, it was that I could handle myself—and my work—without interference.
-
By the time the meeting started, the tension in the room was palpable. Tina sat stiffly across the table from me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Jungkook, ever the professional, appeared calm, but there was a hint of worry in his expression. Whether it was about Yoongi’s absence that went unnoticed by me as well or something else, he didn’t let on.
As we began, I passed copies of my brief directly to Jungkook and the other key members of the team. Tina shot me a pointed look, her eyes narrowing. Rya and Hoseok looked at me as if they tried to say something but I did not give thim that opportunity.
“Y/N,” she said, her tone clipped, “you were supposed to send this to me first.”
“I decided it was better to present it directly,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral but firm as I reached my seat and sat back down.
Tina’s glare hardened, but before she could say anything further, Jungkook cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Let’s focus on the content of the work,” he said, flipping through the pages. His expression shifted slightly as he reviewed my document, a hint of approval crossing his features. He set the papers down and looked at me.
“Good work, Y/N. This is thorough and well-presented. It shows that you had improvement since last time.” Is he serious? I wanted to roll my eyes so fucking bad but I did not. Soft sigh escaped my lips. At the same time however, I fought to keep the pride from showing too much on my face but couldn’t stop a small, satisfied smile from tugging at my lips.
Jungkook turned to Tina, his tone calm but pointed. “Tina, I understand you’re managing multiple aspects of the team, but when Y/N expresses concerns about her work being compromised, those concerns need to be heard. You should take her input seriously going forward. That said, the two of you need to keep collaborating effectively.”
Tina’s jaw clenched, but she nodded stiffly. “Understood.”
I couldn’t resist. Leaning back slightly in my chair, I fixed her with a steady gaze, my smirk subtle but unmistakable. Her eyes flicked to mine briefly before she looked away, her irritation clear.
Satisfied, I shifted my attention back to Jungkook as he moved on to the next topic on the agenda: the current project documentation.
“The documentation for the ongoing projects needs a thorough review,” Jungkook said. “There have been inconsistencies flagged by the higher-ups, and we need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
The discussion continued, but I barely registered Tina’s contributions. The small victory from earlier left me feeling hyped, even as I knew the real challenges lay ahead. Jungkook’s approval meant something, even if his cold professionalism sometimes made it hard to tell.
As the meeting wrapped up, I caught Jungkook’s gaze briefly. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, before gathering his papers and leaving the room. Tina stormed out soon after, her heels clicking against the floor.
I allowed myself one more small, triumphant smile before heading back to my desk to finish my current brief.
-
The night had already fallen by the time I finally managed to clear my apartment. The chaos from the past few days had left my place in disarray—papers scattered on the floor, dishes piled up in the sink, and the weight of everything I was trying to avoid pressed against the walls. But now, as I wiped down the last countertop and took a deep breath, it was like a small weight had been lifted. At least something in my life felt under control, even if it was just this tiny corner of my world.
I collapsed onto the couch, trying to relax for a moment before I had to dive back into whatever would come next. But just as I settled, my phone buzzed loudly on the table. I picked it up with a sigh, already knowing who it was from.
Tae <3
I’d seen his name flashing on my screen in these days, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind, but now, with everything finally settling down a little, I pressed the green button.
“Hey, Tae,” I said softly, my voice hoarse from the days of tension.
“Y/N! I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay? I… am worried.”
I let out a slow exhale, feeling a knot form in my chest as I tried to explain what had happened. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… it’s been a rough couple of days. There’s a lot to explain, honestly.”
I spent the next few minutes filling him in on the events that had unfolded at work—about the picture, the drama with Yoongi, Tina’s cruelty, and Rya’s betrayal. Tae listened patiently, his silence comforting. Even though I was exhausted from talking about it all, his kind, calming presence over the phone helped ground me.
“Y/N, that’s… a lot. I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” Tae said, his voice tender with compassion. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I’m here for you, okay?”
His words meant more than he probably realized. Despite everything, it felt like a small lifeline.
“I appreciate it, Tae. Really. It’s just… I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like I’ve been surrounded by lies. It’s all just been too much.”
“I get it. But know that you have people around you that care and you should not forget who you are, stand your ground, Y/N.” he reassured me.
His voice was steady, and for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope. And then I remembered what my parents had told me. Did Tae actually had feelings for me? Did he stuck around all this time because he felt something for me and I blantantly ignored him, oblivious to his advances and words? I felt like such a bad person. I had to figure out what I actually felt toward him, but deep down I was afraid that I might loose him. 
“We should hang out this weekend,” he continued, his voice pulled me out of the trance I was falling into. “Maybe grab a bite, just get out of there for a bit. How about Sunday- I mean, we will still see each other at the masquerade ball tomorrow but still?”
“Sunday sounds perfect,” I replied, the idea of spending some time with him lifting my spirits. No matter how many times I was with him, it always felt like a gulp of fresh air.
“Great. I’ll text you the details. And Y/N, take care of yourself, okay?”
The sincerity in his voice had me biting my lip to keep from tearing up. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll see you then.”
We said our goodbyes, and I hung up feeling lighter. The weight that had been dragging me down all day wasn’t gone, but it had lessened. I had a plan for Sunday after the ball, something to look forward to, and that was enough for now. I should start prioritizing my life and controlling my emotions better. This was such a vulnerable and cruical moment for me. I had let people peel my skin and expose me so bad that it hurt. I was going to fight and not let anyone do that anymore.
I set my phone down and glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already eleven pm. Time was passing fast when I was lost in my own little world.
Before I could do anything, my phone buzzed again, the screen flashing an anonymous number. I hesitated for a second, but curiosity got the better of me. Who could this be in such hour? I swiped the green button and pressed the phone to my ear.
The line was eerily quiet, nothing but slow breathing on the other end. My heart began to race, a strange chill creeping up my spine.
“Hello?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The silence continued for a moment longer, making my skin crawl. And then, just as I was about to hang up, I heard a voice.
“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice came through the phone, gravelly and almost unrecognizable. “Please-” he slurred, "come down, I am in front of y-your apartment." 
A cold wave of panic washed over me.
“Yoongi? What the hell are you talking about?” I stood up and my bare feet tapped quickly and hastily toward my large window. I removed the curtain and I saw him. Yoongi's Hyundai Palisade was parked at the front and he was leaning against it. He glanced up but it was as if he was looking straight through me.
The line went silent again. His breathing was slow, labored, like he was struggling to stay awake.
My hands shook as I held the phone, my mind racing. What was he doing here? Why now? How the fuck did he get my phone and address?
I didn’t want to go down there, didn’t want to face him after everything that had happened. But something in his voice, a combination of weariness and something I couldn’t place, made me grab my jacket and slip on my shoes as I headed out of my apartment. My heart pounding in my chest as I walked towards the elevator. There was no way I could ignore this.
When I stepped outside, I froze.
Yoongi was standing there, barely able to stand on his own. His face was bruised, and his clothes were disheveled. His eyes were half-lidded, a bottle of something in his hand. He looked like he’d been through hell.
“Yoongi?” I whispered, my voice shaky. “What happened to you?” I took a few hesitant steps toward him. The view was horrific. It appeared as if Yoongi has fought with someone. And on top of that he was drunk and got here driving. The fuck was wrong with him?!
He didn’t respond immediately, swaying slightly on his feet. His breath was thick with alcohol, and his usually sharp gaze was dull and unfocused. He lifted his head and glared at me, trying to stand on his two feet.
“I… I just needed to see you,” he muttered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. He took a step toward me, his hand outstretched.
“You’re drunk,” I said, my voice rising in panic as I took a step back. “Yoongi, what the hell—why are you even here? Why are you acting like this?”
His eyes flickered to mine, a brief moment of recognition, “I… didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he slurred. I could hear the pain in his voice, it was strained but it was there. 
I stood there, shocked and unsure of what to do. My mind screamed at me to walk away, to shut the door and forget this ever happened. But something inside me—something I couldn’t ignore—told me that I needed to help him. Even if I didn’t want to. See, I wasn't a person that would let others in distress or pain. Unfortunately, I'd even help to people who hurt me deeply. It was how I was raised, to always care for other's comfort but ours. It was a wicked game really, I was standing there and stared at his condition. In the months I have been at this company, I have never seen Yoongi drunk and like this. Vulnerable.
"Yoongi, you need to go home," I said, my voice firm despite the confusion swirling inside me. I felt him approach me but for some reason I didn't move. He towered over me, his brown eyes gazed at me but yet again, it felt like he was seeing right through me. Before I could say something he leaned over and pressed his face into my shoulder, sighing quietly. He dropped the bottle and I could feel him grow heavy. Was he about to pass out? Fuck.
I had second to decide what to do. To leave him lay there or drag him inside.  "Come on, let’s get you inside." I muttered quickly, wrapping my arms around him.
He didn’t argue, allowing me to help him stumble towards the entrance. He was a mess, and I hated that I couldn’t just leave him out there. I hated that I was a kind and caring person toward people that didn't deserve it at all.
As I guided him inside of the elevators and the doors closed, my mind raced with all sorts of questions.
Yoongi lifted his head and stared at my face yet again. I frowned his way and his lips twitched as he soon gave me a drunkish grin. "You are pretty like this." I rolled my eyes. "You are hallucinating,"  "I wish I was, then I wouldn't feel like shit for saying all those things to you and making you cry." he muttered lowly.
I dragged Yoongi inside, half-carrying him as he leaned heavily against me, barely able to keep his footing. His breath was labored, and his body seemed to have gone limp. It was like he was a completely different person from the Yoongi I had known—the one with sharp wit and even sharper eyes. This Yoongi was a shell, drunk and beaten, stumbling through the door of my apartment.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I had to get him off the hallway, away from the peeking neighbours and cold night air. I laid him down on my couch, watching as he immediately passed out, his head lolling to the side. He looked so vulnerable in that moment—so fragile—and it made my stomach turn. I hated seeing him like this.
I stood over him for a moment, my hands on my hips as I was unsure of what to do next. My mind was still reeling from the shock of his unexpected appearance, but there was something deeper stirring inside me. I had to make sure he was okay. Or at least, make sure he wasn’t going to hurt himself more.
I didn't really know any people closer to Yoongi than Jungkook. So I grabbed my phone and dialed Jungkook's number. After a few signals, he picked up.
“Hello?” Jungkook’s voice came through the speaker, sounding concerned and confused as of to who that might be. He probably didn't have my number saved at all. "It's uh- Y/N..." I trailed off, "sorry to bother you this late," I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was probably asleep.  "No, it's fine. Whats going on?"
“Well. . . Yoongi at my apartment. He showed up drunk with his car parked in front of my place and he’s passed out on my couch.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, and I could almost hear Jungkook’s mind racing. I heard faint curses and then some rustling before he spoke again.
“Give me your address, I will be on my way shortly,” he mumbled, I took a deep breath and gave him the location and then the line disconnected.
True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. He was quiet when he walked in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Yoongi, sprawled helplessly on the couch. His jaw tightened for a moment, but he said nothing. I noticed Jungkook was wearing his pajamas. This is why he was so fast, he just got up and rushed here? 
“Will he be okay?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.
Jungkook ran a hand through his messy dark hair and sighed, kneeling beside Yoongi. “Yeah. It's not his first time being like this.”
I bit my lip, watching as Jungkook carefully adjusted Yoongi’s position, making sure he was comfortable. The whole situation felt too surreal.
“Why is he like this?” I asked. The question had been gnawing at me ever since I found him outside, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why would he show up like this, covered in bruises?”
Jungkook’s eyes flickered to me for a moment, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak immediately, as if weighing how much he could reveal. After a long pause, he finally said, “Yoongi doesn’t handle emotional pain well. He’d rather take physical pain than face whatever’s going on inside. It’s easier for him, in a way.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Physical pain over emotional pain. I had always thought Yoongi was this hard, untouchable person, but hearing that made me realize how much he was hiding beneath that façade.
“That’s… that’s not normal,” I whispered, my heart aching for him.
Jungkook gave me a look, as if to say, You don’t know the half of it. He stood up and turned toward me, his eyes piercing right through me.
“I’m taking him home,” Jungkook muttered, his voice a little softer now. “I’ll make sure he’s settled in. But Y/N…”
I looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice.
“He won’t admit it, but he needs help. And I don’t think he’ll let anyone in if he knows they’re worried...”
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words.
Jungkook gave Yoongi one last look before he crouched down and gently shook him awake. It took a moment, but Yoongi stirred, groaning as he slowly blinked his eyes open.
“Yoongi,” Jungkook said, his voice low and commanding. “We’re taking you home. Can you stand?”
Yoongi didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and he winced as he tried to sit up. “I don’t want to go home…” he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.
Jungkook’s eyes softened for just a second. “We don’t have much of a choice. Come on.”
With a little effort, Jungkook helped Yoongi stand, supporting him as they made their way out of my apartment. My eyes followed them as they left, a mixture of concern and confusion swirling inside me. I had no idea what was going on in Yoongi’s life, what demons he was fighting. But I could tell it was more than just the things I saw at work.
I stood in the doorway for a while after they left, the quiet of my apartment settling back in around me. There was a lot more to Yoongi than I had ever realized, and I couldn’t help but wonder—what else was he hiding?
The night felt long, and I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same after tonight.
-
I tossed and turned in my bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to escape the thoughts swirling in my mind. Yoongi. What was going on inside his head? Why would he let himself fall to such a low point? I had been so wrapped up in my own problems, so focused on myself, that I failed to look outside my bubble.
Was he suffering just as much as I was? Or worse? His words, those harsh, cutting words, still echoed in my head. I couldn’t ignore them, no matter how much I wanted to. The damage had been done. There was no coming back from that—at least not for me. His actions, his words, they had already crossed a line I wasn’t willing to forgive.
I didn’t trust him anymore. How could I? But despite my resolve, I still wondered—why? Why had he let himself get to that point? Why was he hurting like this? Was he just as lost as I felt sometimes?
But that didn’t change anything. I couldn’t let my guard down. Not now. Not after everything he had put me through.
By the time morning came, I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and head to work, though it felt like everything was happening in a haze. When I walked into the building, everything felt louder, more intense. But my mind was still stuck on Yoongi.
As I walked down the hallway, lost in my own thoughts, I almost bumped into Jungkook.
"Hey," he said quietly, his tone almost cautious.
I glanced up at him, blinking a few times as I tried to focus. "How's Yoongi?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Jungkook gave me a quick glance, and I could tell from his expression that Yoongi’s condition was still on his mind, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. “He’s fine. Just a little bruised up. He’ll be at the ball tomorrow.”
I nodded, but the words hit me harder than I expected. The ball? He was going to attend? After everything that happened?
Before I could process any more thoughts, I heard the click of heels approaching. Tina. Of course, she couldn’t leave us alone. She came up to us with that smug look she always wore, her eyes narrowing as she took in our whispered conversation.
“So, what’s going on here?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness, arms crossed against her chest. “Are you two flirting?”
I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to entertain her question. I had better things to do than to deal with Tina and her constant attempts at stirring drama. "She's all yours." I muttered to him.
Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t as forgiving. He snapped back at her harshly, his tone cold. “No, Tina. We’re not flirting. I suggest you stop with the snarky comments or I will make you regret it.”
Tina’s eyes widened slightly, and I could see the jealousy bubbling beneath the surface. She looked from Jungkook to me, trying to read our expressions, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.
Instead, I just turned and walked away, not bothering to waste my time on her games. Tina was starting to get pathetic even more in my eyes. 
Jungkook sighed behind me, clearly frustrated, but he didn’t say anything more.
It was strange—despite everything that had happened, despite the weight of my own emotions, there was something comforting about Jungkook’s presence. Maybe it was his steady calmness, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t play games like Tina. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel as alone when he was around.
But even with that small comfort, my mind couldn’t let go of Yoongi. He was still a mess. And no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I couldn’t help but feel responsible for part of it.
I had to focus. On the work. On moving forward. Because if I didn’t, I might drown in all of this.
-
The afternoon sunlight streamed softly through my apartment windows, warming the room as I sipped my sugarless coffee, the cup cradled in both hands. At my feet, Hades curled up, his soft fur was shining under the soft rays of the sun. My eyes kept drifting to the royal blue dress hanging on the back of my bedroom door.
Rya had talked me into it—her determination was unrelenting. “You deserve to look stunning, Y/N,” she’d said, dragging me into store after store until she found the dress.
I reached for the diamond hair accessory on my dresser, its glimmer catching the sunlight. My fingers grazed it thoughtfully as I imagined how it would sit in my hair, which Rya had insisted I style in soft, flowing beach curls. I sighed, setting it down again.
Hades stirred, flicking his tail against my ankle as I took another sip of coffee, trying to ground myself. My thoughts were tangled, looping through the chaos of the past few weeks. Yoongi. Jungkook. The picture. The insults. And now, the ball. A part of me was still so anxious, but beneath it all was a simmering determination to get through this. To face everything head-on.
My phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting my thoughts. I picked it up, my heart sinking a little when I saw my parents’ number.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, forcing brightness into my voice.
“Sweetheart,” came my mom’s familiar voice, warm but tinged with hesitation. "Have you been alright, my girl?"  I paused, should I tell her about what happened to me or keep it to myself. I swallowed thickly and forced a steady voice, it was tough not being able to be understood by your own mother. I knew what she was gonna say so I did not bother letting her know about this. "I am okay, mom. How's dad?" "Oh, you know, he has a new hobby which is grilling. He is quite alright per say." I humed in response and there was a pause. “Your brother’s parole was denied.” she served it as if it was the most casual thing ever. I frowned and rose up from my bed, biting on my lips. The words hit me like a dull thud in the chest, but I kept my voice steady. “What now? Should we change the attorney?”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll visit him soon and see how we should proceed.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Alright," I trailed off. I couldn't believe his parole was denied. That probably wrecked him completely. 
We chatted a little longer before saying our goodbyes, but the call left a small crack in my composure. I set the phone down and took a deep breath. Focus, Y/N. Tonight is about showing up and holding your own.
-
The drive to the MNT Media headquarters was a blur. Taehyung had picked me up in his sleek black Genesis GV80 SUV, his reaction when he saw me leaving my apartment still fresh in my mind.
“Wow, Y/N,” he had said, his eyes widening as I stepped outside. “You look... incredible.”
I’d smiled, a little shy under his burning gaze. “Thanks, Tae." I was not used to compliments, but I took enough time to look at myself in the mirror. I did look quite well tonight. That dress hugged my curves perfectly and it showed everything that had to be shown and everything that had to stay hidden. The color perfectly contrasted with my skin. The mask was hiding who I struggled to be, it was made from royal blue diamonds and it shined under the lighting of my apartment.  And the jewlery in my hair only added to the effect of luxury. 
Tae however, he was wearing a black suit, tailored to perfection, with a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie. His mask—a gold and black design that made him look impossibly suave—only added to his charm. His brown locks of hair tossled and messy suited him perfectly. He looked like a handsome prince. And for a moment I found the thought of him liking me ridicilous. Why would someone who looked so perfect would like someone like me? As we drove, he threw out compliments like they were second nature, his voice laced with a playful flirtation that made me laugh despite my nerves.
“You’re going to steal the show tonight,” he said, his eyes briefly flicking toward me before returning to the road. "You are exaggerating." I gazed at him with soft grin and my eyes raked over his face and that smug smirk from my response. However, my eyes focused on his veiny hands that held the steering wheel. I stared at them for a little too long as he obviously noticed my stare. "Something wrong?" I snapped out of it and looked away, clearing my throat. "No- not at all."  I saw that dumbass smirk smugly at me. I wanted to punch him but instead a small giggle escaped my lips.
When we pulled up to the grand entrance of MNT Media’s headquarters, I felt a wave of anxiety crash over me. The paparazzi were already gathered outside, their cameras flashing incessantly, blinding all the people that passed by. The building itself was a towering masterpiece of glass and steel, lit up like a beacon in the night. It screamed 'you are out of this world, Y/N' in big bold letters.
Taehyung parked, stepping out first before circling around to open my door. “Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand like the real gentleman he was.
I nodded, placing my hand in his. I felt electricity run down my spine as I felt the warmth and softness of his skin. He held my hand ever so gentle as if he was afraid I'd break. I spared a glance at his face and then my focuse went on my exit from the car. As I stepped out, the flashing lights of the cameras hit me like a tidal wave. I felt overwhelmed for a moment, but Taehyung offered his arm, and I clung to it like a lifeline.
“Just keep your eyes forward,” he whispered, leaning close so only I could hear. “You’ve got this.”
I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and let him lead me inside.
The ballroom was breathtaking. The lights were dimmed, casting everything in a soft golden glow. Crystal chandeliers hung high above, their facets sparkling like stars. Guests milled about in masks, their laughter and conversation blending with the sound of a grand piano being played in the corner. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne, champagne, and roses.
Round tables draped in white silk lined the edges of the room, while the center was open for dancing. Everything oozed luxury—from the gilded accents on the walls to the servers circulating with trays of expensive champagne.
“Not bad, huh?” Taehyung said, his tone light as we stepped inside.
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted, my eyes sweeping over the scene.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice quieter this time.
I glanced up at him, his expression softer now, less playful. It was cute really, all I could do was give him a soft grin in response.
As we moved deeper into the room, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the evening settling over me. And whatever happened tonight, I knew it was going to change everything.
I scanned the room, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all. Everywhere I looked, there were important people—CEOs, celebrities, politicians—all dressed in their finest. The men wore tailored suits with intricate masks, while the women dazzled in luxurious gowns, their jewels glinting under the chandeliers. The anonymity of the masks made it impossible to identify anyone from Jeon Enterprises however.
Taehyung and I found a spot near one of the round tables draped in white silk. He handed me a glass of champagne, the bubbling liquid catching the warm golden glow of the chandeliers.
“You’re doing great,” he said, leaning closer so I could hear him over the soft murmur of conversation.
I gave him a small smile, grateful for his calming presence. “Thanks, Tae.”
We lounged there for a while, sipping our champagne and observing the scene. Taehyung’s easy charm and lighthearted comments kept me grounded, though my thoughts still occasionally drifted to the potential encounters lurking behind the glittering masks.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw them—Rya and Hoseok.
Rya looked absolutely stunning, as she always did. She wore a deep crimson gown with a plunging neckline, the fabric hugging her petite frame and flowing elegantly to the floor. Her dark hair was pinned up in a sophisticated bun, and her mask—a delicate creation of red lace and gold—perfectly matched her dress. She exuded confidence, but there was a cautiousness in her eyes as she approached.
Hoseok, by contrast, looked sharp and understated in a classic black suit paired with a sleek white mask. The suit was tailored impeccably to his lean frame, and the silk pocket square matched the ivory tones of his mask. His usual bright smile was subdued as he stood beside Rya, his hands in his pockets, his posture slightly hesitant.
They stopped a few feet away from me, and for a moment, the air seemed to hang heavy between us.
“Y/N,” Rya said, her voice tentative.
I smiled softly, deciding tonight wasn’t the time for grudges or rehashing old wounds. The ball was too grand, the stakes too high for petty arguments. “Rya. Hoseok,” I greeted politely, nodding to each of them. “You both look amazing.”
Relief washed over their faces.
“You too,” Rya said, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “That dress... wow. You look incredible.”
“She’s right,” Hoseok added, his tone sincere. “You’re... glowing, Y/N. Like, really.”
I gave a small laugh, shaking my head. “You two are just trying to butter me up.”
“No, really,” Rya insisted, stepping closer. “I’m so sorry about everything. We are. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand—”
“Not tonight,” I interrupted gently, raising a hand to stop her. “Let’s just enjoy the ball, okay? We can talk about it another time.”
They exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. “Okay,” Rya said. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” Hoseok echoed, his smile finally warming.
I felt a small weight lift off my chest. It wasn’t forgiveness—not entirely—but it was a step in the right direction. Tonight wasn’t about grudges or misunderstandings. It was about standing tall, embracing the moment, and maybe even letting myself enjoy it.
Taehyung, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “See? You’re a natural at this.”
I gave him a playful nudge, but his words made me smile. The night was still young, and for now, I was determined to make the most of it.
The conversation with Rya and Hoseok had settled into an easy rhythm, the earlier tension softening with every passing minute. I was just starting to feel comfortable when the grand double doors at the far end of the ballroom opened, drawing everyone’s attention.
I turned toward the entrance, my champagne glass frozen mid-air. That’s when I saw him—Jungkook.
He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his broad shoulders commanding attention even amidst the sea of masked guests. His dark mask was minimalistic yet elegant, fitting his sharp, chiseled features like it was made for him. But what truly caught me off guard was the person on his arm.
Tina.
She clung to him like her life depended on it, her smug expression practically radiating across the room. Her gown, a striking emerald green with a dangerously high slit, screamed of someone desperate to make an impression. She looked ecstatic—proud, even—and for good reason. To show up with Jeon Jungkook at her side? That was a trophy in itself.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I watched her lean closer to him, giggling at something he said. But Jungkook didn’t seem invested in her. His eyes were scanning the room, restless, as though he was searching for someone.
Someone?
Before I could make sense of it my eyes shifted to the second couple that had just walked in.
This time, it was Yoongi.
The sight of him stole my breath for a moment. He was dressed in an all-black ensemble as well, but with a velvet jacket that added an edge of understated luxury. His mask, a rich silver that contrasted against his dark hair, gave him an air of quiet mystery. But it wasn’t just him.
On his arm was Gina.
Gina—the same girl from the cafeteria who had made those snide comments about my weight. The same Gina who had once asked Hoseok to this ball and been pushed away. She had traded in her usual uniform for a glittering golden gown that hugged her figure like it had been poured onto her. Her mask sparkled with rhinestones, matching the shimmering confidence in her eyes.
The sight of her with Yoongi made my chest tighten, though I couldn’t quite explain why. Maybe it was because she had made me feel so small that day in the cafeteria, and now she was walking in like she owned the place.
I stared longer than I should have, my gaze flicking between the two pairs—Jungkook and Tina, Yoongi and Gina. "The hell, Tina and Gina?" Rya asked in disbelief. Hoseok giggled. "Their names rhyme." "They are both equally evil." Rya answered with a flat tone, "that's why." I burst out laughing at this, because let's face it. It was true, both of them thrived on attention. I wonder how the Boss and Yoongi fell for their traps.
“You’re staring,” Taehyung’s voice broke through my thoughts. He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t let them see they’ve gotten to you,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm.
I blinked, snapping my gaze back to Taehyung. His brown eyes were warm, reassuring, and I gave him a small nod. He was right. I wouldn’t let them have that satisfaction.
But it seemed I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungkook’s head turn in my direction. His eyes, sharp and focused even behind the mask, landed on me almost instantly. I couldn’t see his expression entirely, but something flickered there—recognition.
And then Yoongi’s gaze followed.
It was as though time slowed for a moment. Jungkook and Yoongi both stared at me, their attention laser-focused despite the room full of people.
I felt exposed, vulnerable, even though I was fully covered by my mask and gown.
“Looks like you’ve been spotted,” Taehyung said, an annoying lilt to his voice as he lifted his glass to his lips.
I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Let them look,” I muttered, tilting my chin up slightly.
But as much as I wanted to exude confidence, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was about to get a lot more complicated.
A hush fell over the ballroom as a woman walked onto the stage at the far end of the room. The murmurs around me stilled as all eyes turned toward her. Octavia Leeroy, the CEO of MNT Media, stood tall and commanding under the spotlight.
She was stunning—her elegance more commanding than any gown or mask in the room. Dressed in a sleek, black floor-length gown with subtle sequins that caught the light, she radiated power and sophistication. Her mask was a bold gold creation, but her presence alone was enough to command attention.
As she took her place at the microphone, her voice carried through the room, smooth and steady.
“Welcome,” she began, her tone warm yet authoritative. “Tonight is a celebration—a celebration of not only our successes but of the people who make those successes possible. Each of you represents a piece of a puzzle that drives industries, builds communities, and inspires change. But let’s not forget, behind every mask, every polished exterior, are sacrifices, challenges, and battles fought in silence.”
I felt a lump form in my throat as her words resonated. She spoke with a sincerity that cut through the grandeur of the event, sharing stories of her struggles—the nights she worked tirelessly, the people who doubted her and the moments she doubted herself.
Her voice wavered only slightly when she spoke of the cost of ambition, but she never faltered. She had built an empire with blood, sweat, and tears, and now she stood as a symbol of resilience.
A wave of admiration surged through me. This is what strength looks like, I thought to myself, soaking in every word. She was everything I dreamed of becoming—powerful, respected, unshakable. When Octavia finished her speech, a thunderous applause erupted, echoing through the grand ballroom. I clapped along with the crowd, my heart swelling with a renewed sense of determination.
As the applause faded, the music resumed—a gentle, lilting melody that invited couples to the dance floor.
I turned back to Taehyung, who was already watching me with a mischievous glint in his eye. He extended his hand, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “May I have this dance?”
I hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. “You may,” I replied, my voice light. Rya and Hoseok also joined the dance floor and swayed in the slow rhytum of the piano music.
Taehyung led me to the dance floor, his confidence putting me at ease. He placed one hand on my waist, the other still holding mine, and we began to move in time with the music.
At first, our steps were measured, almost formal. But as we swayed, something shifted. The space between us grew smaller, and the intensity of his gaze deepened. His fingers lingered on my waist, his touch light yet deliberate.
“You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured, his voice low.
“Me?” I countered, my heart fluttering as his gaze dropped briefly to my lips. “You’re the one making all the bold moves.”
He chuckled, spinning me gently. “Maybe I like seeing you off guard.”
Before I could respond, I felt a pair of hands catch me mid-spin, steadying me. The grip was firm, different.
When I turned to look up, I froze.
Jungkook.
His dark eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. His mask did little to hide the sharp angles of his face, and the faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips.
“Mind if I cut in?” he asked, his tone smooth yet edged with something deeper.
I blinked, my breath hitching as I realized I had no choice—Taehyung had already stepped back, a deep scowl at his lips as he let Jungkook take the lead without any other word. 
Jungkook’s hand slid to my waist, his other still holding mine as he began to move us effortlessly across the floor. His proximity, the intensity of his gaze, left me completely unmoored.
“You look proper,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. Proper? Really? What should I expect from a man like him.
“Thanks,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
His smirk deepened as he twirled me, his movements confident and precise. “I’d say I look more than ‘not too bad‘.’”
I rolled my eyes, despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “Careful, Jungkook. Your ego’s showing.”
He chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And here I thought you’d be too nervous to handle a dance like this.”
I tilted my chin up, refusing to let him rattle me. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
His gaze darkened, his expression unreadable as we continued to move in perfect synchronization. For a moment, the world around us blurred—the guests, the music, the grandeur of the ballroom. It was just him and me, locked in a silent battle of wills.  "You came with Tina?" I asked in a hushed tone as we danced. He frowned but then low chuckle escaped his plump lips. Was he amused? "Are you jealous?" "You fucking wish." I spoke out and Jungkook laughed at that. I have never seen him so cheery.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another familiar figure on the edge of the dance floor. Yoongi.
He was watching us, his expression unreadable behind his mask, but his eyes told a different story. He was intently staring at me and Jungkook as Gina was tugging his arm to go to the dance floor but by his expression and his stoic frame, he refused. Gina gave up and crossed her arms against her chest.
The tension in the air between Jungkook and me was palpable. I couldn't breathe from the closeness of him. He was intoxicating me, like a bottle of strong alcohol making my knees go weak. I had my breath hitched the entire dance before the music stopped and everyone parted. Jungkook refused to let me go.  "You are really beautiful tonight, Y/N." he muttered, his eyes exploring my face. I cleared my throat and pulled away immediately, "T-thanks." He hummed and soon I saw a few guys call out to him. Jungkook turned around to see who it was then back at me. "I have to go. Talk to you later." he said before he headed toward the group of people as I was left alone at the dance floor.
Suddenly, a voice called my name from behind me.
“Y/N?”
I turned around, my steps faltering as I came face-to-face with a man I hadn’t seen in years. Richard Delgrassi.
“Mr. Delgrassi?” I stammered, the surprise evident in my tone. What was he doing here?
He smiled warmly, his salt-and-pepper hair adding a distinguished edge to his polished appearance. Dressed in a charcoal-gray tuxedo and a black mask that matched his sharp features, he exuded the same air of authority and charm I remembered from my childhood.
“I thought that was you,” he said, his tone brimming with familiarity. “My, how you’ve grown. It’s been what—ten years?”
“More like twelve,” I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m surprised you recognized me with this mask.”
“Your eyes, dear,” he said, gesturing lightly. “They’re unmistakable. Just like your father’s.”
At the mention of my father, a pang of nostalgia hit me. Richard Delgrassi had been one of my father’s closest associates back when our family was still living the high life. My father, Benjamin, had owned one of the most successful car manufacturing companies in the country. His name had once been synonymous with innovation and luxury in the automobile industry. Richard had been his right-hand man, helping to expand the business and secure lucrative deals. But as fate would have it, a series of unfortunate events—including betrayal from within the company—had forced my father to sell his empire and move abroad, leaving behind the life he had built so painstakingly.
Now, Richard was a prominent politician, known for his advocacy for economic reform and his push for ethical practices in business. His transformation from a business mogul’s associate to a public figure had been nothing short of remarkable.
“It’s been ages,” I said, trying to suppress the rush of emotions his presence stirred. “How have you been?”
“Well, politics keeps me busy,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’ve been keeping an eye on the industry. It’s hard to let go of one’s roots entirely, you know.”
I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.
“And you?” he asked, his tone shifting to genuine curiosity. “What are you doing these days? Last I heard, your family had moved overseas.”
“I’m working here now,” I said, straightening slightly. “At Jeon Enterprises.”
His brows shot up in surprise. “Jeon Enterprises? That’s unexpected. What are you doing there?”
“I’m part of their marketing team,” I explained, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “It’s... challenging, but it’s been a learning experience.”
Richard studied me for a moment, a glimmer of intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Jeon Enterprises, you say? That’s an interesting choice. They have quite the reputation—for better or worse.”
I tilted my head slightly, curious. “You know them?”
“I’ve crossed paths with their CEO, Jungkook, a few times,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes shifting behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know he was staring at Jungkook. “He’s a sharp one, but his company’s ethos has always been... pragmatic, shall we say. I’ve been looking for an organization that values long-term growth over short-term profits, something more aligned with my goals.”
“And you think Jeon Enterprises could be that organization?” I asked, intrigued.
“Perhaps,” he said, stroking his chin. “If they’re willing to adapt. But enough about me—how do you find it there? Are they treating you well?”
The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, the memories of Tina’s snarky remarks and Yoongi’s cold demeanor flashing through my mind. But then I thought of the moments when Jungkook had, in his own quiet way, come to my defense.
“It has its ups and downs,” I admitted carefully. “But I’m learning a lot.”
Richard nodded approvingly. “Good. That’s what matters. And who knows, perhaps our paths might cross again soon in a more... professional capacity.” I saw him pull out a business card out of his pocket and give it to me. Did I just made the first client join our company? My heart skipped. I accepted it. "Then, we should discuss this over a meeting at our company soon. "Excellent. See you soon, Y/N. And give Benjamin my regards."
A mix of nostalgia and newfound curiosity swirling in my chest. For years, I had tried to bury the life my family had left behind, but seeing Richard here, so firmly planted in this world of power and influence, made me wonder if maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t entirely out of reach for me either.
As he excused himself to speak with another guest, I couldn’t help but feel that this meeting was more than just a coincidence. Perhaps, amidst all the chaos, this was the start of something new. Something I hadn’t even realized I was searching for.
-
The evening had been going surprisingly well so far. I stood among a small group of representatives from various companies, discussing Jeon Enterprises and its potential as a reliable partner. My nerves had simmered down, and I was finally hitting my stride in the conversation.
“So, what makes Jeon Enterprises stand out from its competitors?” a tall, sharp-suited executive asked, his tone curious yet skeptical.
I took a deep breath, summoning the confidence I had been building over the months. “Aside from our innovative approach to market trends, Jeon Enterprises is focused on creating long-term solutions rather than short-term fixes. We prioritize adaptability, ensuring that our clients’ needs are met even as industries evolve. And with the resources we provide, we’re not just a business partner—we’re a growth catalyst.”
The executive nodded thoughtfully, and I could see that I was making headway.
But just as I was about to elaborate further, I heard the telltale clink of heels approaching.
And then it happened.
A sudden cold splash against my side made me flinch, and I looked down to see a vivid crimson stain blooming across my royal blue gown.
“Oh no!” came Tina’s voice, syrupy and fake, as she stood there holding an almost-empty glass of wine. “I’m so clumsy. I didn’t see you standing there, Y/N.”
Her tone didn’t match her words; there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in her expression. Instead, her lips curled into a smug smirk as her gaze swept over me, clearly reveling in the scene she’d just created.
Around me, the small crowd went silent, their eyes darting between Tina and me. The heat of their stares burned on my skin as I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the spreading stain.
Tina’s mockery didn’t stop there. “Oh dear, that dress must have cost a fortune. It’s such a shame, really.”
I clenched my fists, biting back a sharp retort. She wanted a scene, and I refused to give her one.
Forcing a tight smile, I turned to the group I had been speaking with. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
Their sympathetic nods did little to ease the weight of humiliation pressing down on me as I stepped away. As I walked past Taehyung, who had been nearby, he immediately stood and reached for my arm.
“Y/N, let me—”
“No,” I said quickly, not wanting to draw more attention. “I’ve got this, Tae. I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated but nodded, his concern clear in his eyes as he let me go.
I made my way toward the restrooms, my chest tightening with every step. The laughter and conversation from the ballroom felt like it was directed at me, though I knew logically that wasn’t the case. Still, the weight of humiliation was suffocating.
Once in the restroom, I tried dabbing at the stain with water, but it was no use. The red had seeped too deeply into the fabric. Sighing, I gave up and left, heading toward the balcony for some air.
The cold night breeze hit me as I stepped outside, the quiet a welcome reprieve from the noise and judgment inside. I leaned against the stone railing, my eyes sweeping over the city lights below. They sparkled like a sea of stars, but even their beauty couldn’t distract me from the ache in my chest.
I felt humiliated, small, like no matter how much effort I put into proving myself, people like Tina would always find a way to knock me down.
“Thought I might find you here,” came a familiar voice from behind me.
I stiffened, glancing over my shoulder. Yoongi stood there, his mask pushed up slightly on his forehead, his bruised face partially illuminated by the soft glow of the lights. I noticed him not taking off his mask at all at the ball room. Probably because he didn't want anyone to see his bruised face.
“Did you come to add to the humiliation?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
He sighed, stepping closer but leaving enough space between us to keep it comfortable. “No,” he said simply. “You looked like you could use some air.”
I turned back to the railing, the weight of the evening pressing down on me again. “Well, congratulations. You were right. I don’t belong here.”
His silence was surprising, and when I glanced at him, I saw something I didn’t expect—regret.
“I didn’t say that,” he said after a moment, his voice low.
“You didn’t have to.”
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I’ve been... a jerk.”
I scoffed at the understatement but said nothing, letting him continue.
“I’ve said things—done things—that I’m not proud of,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I can’t take those back. But for what it’s worth... I don’t think you’re out of place here. Not tonight. Not ever.”
His words hung in the air for a moment, and I stared at him, a cocktail of emotions swirling inside me. Regret? From Min Yoongi? It was almost laughable. Almost.
I turned back toward the city lights, gripping the railing tighter. “You think a couple of kind words will fix everything?” I asked, my tone sharp.
He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and searching.
“I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said finally. “I just... I wanted to say it.”
“Well, you can’t just ‘say it’ and expect me to forget everything else.” I spun to face him, the emotions I’d been suppressing all night bubbling to the surface. “You humiliated me, Yoongi. Over and over again. And for what? To make yourself feel better?”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “I deserve that.”
“You deserve more than that,” I snapped. “But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is what you did that night. Do you even realize what could’ve happened? Driving drunk to my apartment like that? What the hell were you thinking?”
Yoongi blinked, clearly not expecting the shift in conversation. His face darkened, a flicker of shame passing over his features. “I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I needed to see you.”
“To see me?” I threw my hands up in disbelief. “So you thought, ‘Hey, let me risk my life and possibly someone else’s because I’m having a bad day’? What if you’d hurt someone, Yoongi? What if you’d hurt yourself?”
He took a step closer, his expression pained. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “I know it was stupid. I wasn’t in a good place—”
“That’s not an excuse,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “You don’t get to make reckless decisions and then shrug it off because you ‘weren’t in a good place.’”
He looked down, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re right. It’s not an excuse. I just...” He trailed off, shaking his head as if searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to deal with... everything. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
I let out a bitter laugh, turning away from him. “Clearly.”
Silence settled between us, the tension thick and suffocating. The sounds of the city below seemed to fade as I struggled to rein in my emotions.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. “For all of it. For the things I said, the way I treated you, for... showing up that night. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, but I wasn’t ready to let go of my anger just yet. “You’re right, I didn’t,” I said coldly. “And sorry doesn’t erase what you did.”
“I know it doesn’t,” he said quickly, his tone pleading now. “But it’s all I can give you.”
I turned to face him again, searching his eyes for something—anything—that would make sense of the man standing before me. He looked vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before, the usual cool confidence stripped away.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I said finally, my voice breaking. “You hurt me, Yoongi. Over and over. And I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “I understand.”
The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, and I looked away, my chest tight with a mix of anger, sadness, and something I didn’t want to name.
“I’m trying to be better,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if that matters to you, but... I thought you should know.”
I didn’t respond, my emotions too tangled to form a coherent thought. Instead, I turned back to the city lights, the cold air biting at my skin.
Yoongi stayed for a moment longer, as if waiting for something—an answer, a reaction, anything. But when it became clear I wasn’t going to give him one, he sighed and stepped back.
“Have fun at the ball, Y/N. You deserve it.” he said softly before turning and walking away, leaving me alone on the balcony with my thoughts.
I gripped the railing tighter, the ache in my chest growing stronger as I watched him disappear into the shadows of the ballroom.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.
177 notes · View notes
teaboot · 13 hours ago
Note
Dude if the OP doesn't want you derailing her post, you leave (no matter how much you disagree w/ her takes otherwise). You just look inconsiderate and stupid now.
Show me the post I derailed. Show me the clear and obvious point of the original post and show me where I derailed it. Take a screenshot. Send me a link. Anything. Explain to me how adding my own tags to a gif with zero original context derails the original post. Please dear God almighty
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cheapshrimpysheep · 21 hours ago
Note
Hi ! Can you do a "Stop the wedding!" with Lilia Vanrouge and Epel Felmier please? Have a nice day!
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COMMENTS: Hi. I chose to follow the same format as a request with the same theme that I had already written: Rescuing You (Deuce; Jack; Floyd; Kalim)
As English is not my first language I can't write Epel's dialect/accent as I would like, but I hope it still feels accurate. 🤞
I hope you and all enjoy it 💐
CHARACTERS: Epel Felmier / Lilia Vanrouge
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Confession
WARNING: Spoilers from The Phantom Bride event and the Vignettes of the respective Cards.
WORD COUNT: An average of 500 words per character.
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CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.
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The only thing Epel knew was that someone had been kidnapped by a ghost or something.
When he found out that it was you who had been kidnapped and to marry that ghost, he not only panicked but also got furious! Vil and Riddle had to calm him down.
Although he wanted to be in the very first rescue group, the others ended up convincing him to stay in the last one.
Every time a rescue party failed, he would release all the frustration he had. He even went so far as to criticize Vil himself for failing.
Rook promised he wouldn't tell Vil anything because he found Epel’s display of raw feelings merveilleux.
When it was Epel's group's turn, Riddle and Rook had already fallen behind and he and Ace were almost reaching you, more ghosts appeared. Guards who mistook Epel for a princess and made him furious.
He wanted to stay behind and fight them, but he remembered that it was you they were trying to save. And if there was anyone he wanted to prove his strength and courage to the most, it wasn't those ghosts, it was you.
Instead, he convinces Ace to stay behind. Or rather, he almost threatens him to stay behind. Ace commented that, really, with all that determination maybe he should be the one to face the princess, and he stayed to fight the guards.
When he arrived at the ceremony hall he was so angry about the whole situation that he didn't even try to hide it to deceive the princess.
“Listen here ya spoiled brat!” The guards, the princess and Vil gasped! “I'm fed up and tired of this crap! Go find someone who wants to actually marry ya instead of forcin´ someone to do it and save us all the headaches?!” The ghosts turn on him, telling him how foul-mouthed he is for the way he looks. “Looks don't define who I am! And I am not sorry if I'm insulting you! I don't need to be a tall and handsome prince on a white horse to fight for the one I love!” He said it in the heat of the moment and then immediately blushed like a red apple and fell silent.
The princess was surprised by his courage and determination despite his body and appearance. Even though she said it in a way that insulted Epel. And she began to wonder if she herself would have someone who would risk themselves so much in that way for her, regardless of their fragile bodies (once again insulting more than complimenting)
The guard who is in love with her takes this opportunity to declare his love, she discovers that she also likes him after all and they marry each other.
Despite the embarrassment, Epel runs to you and stays by your side the rest of the time. However, even though he is embarrassed by the declaration of love he made to you, he is very proud of himself because he managed to save you by being himself.
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Lilia was already fighting some ghosts more for fun and defense than anything else.
And he remained in a playful mood as they explained that a student had been kidnapped by the princess to marry her. That mood only changed slightly when he heard your name.
On the outside, he continued to appear unconcerned about the situation, but in his head he was already drawing up a plan of attack and conquest.
Lilia asked to be in the last group, using the excuse that they should save the best and cutest candidates for last. Epel didn't like the comment very much.
If it were anyone else, he would take the whole rescue operation as a joke, but it's YOUR life that's at risk, so that was a battle.
He used what he observed from other groups along with his experience as a war general to come up with the best plan he could.
Needless to say, part of the plan was for him to get to you, so he used his persuasive charm to convince everyone else to stay behind and stop the guards whenever necessary.
He entered the ceremonial hall slamming both doors open.
“PRINCESS! I beg you to stop this wedding! You are making a mistake!” Everyone looked at him, curious. “I completely understand you wanting to marry (Y/N). But you deserve someone on your level, someone who understands your dreams and feelings. In other words... (Y/N) is at too high a level for you.” Everyone gasped, but his expression was one of pity for the princess, even though you knew it was just one of his masks. He knew perfectly well that he was insulting her and having fun with it. “I'm sure someone like them has a much higher standard, you wouldn't be able to satisfy them. It's going to be a headache for you to spend every day trying so hard to even reach the level of someone who deserves them.” He smiles innocently. “You should choose someone more on your level. One of your guards perhaps?”
At first the princess is upset and asks how Lilia could say something like that. But then, she starts to question whether he is right about you being in fact too good for her and becomes sad.
It is at this point that the guard who is in love with her enters the conversation to console her and ends up revealing his feelings for the princess.
They realize that their love is mutual and end up marrying each other.
Lilia ends up revealing to you that his plan was to make that guard declare himself. While everyone was focusing on the princess, he realized that the real target must be someone else.
“Oh, but I was being honest all the time. I do believe you deserve better. Actually, you the best. On another note, don't you think I look so charming in this outfit? Does it not make you want to take the opportunity and marry me? Khee hee hee.”
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If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
YOU WILL STOP THE WEDDING! (Ghost Marriage/The Phantom Bride theme; Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration)
Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia
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harrywavycurly · 2 days ago
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Worth the Fight: Places of Peace
Masterlist: Here
CW: Language, bit of arguing, talk about pregnancy things/symptoms, brief mention of a tiny panic attack and if you squint you’ll find some jealousy✨
A/N: I think some would call this progress or at least their version of progress or maybe it’s like them working on progress? Either way I’d say this is a step in the right direction.
Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy
Summary: Left with no choice, Harry visits you at work resulting in a much needed conversation✨
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“You know doors usually work better if you knock on them.” Harry turns his head to the left as an older woman is stepping out of her front door just one door down from yours. She puts her keys in her purse and turns so she’s facing him and Harry just bites his bottom lip as he looks back at your front door, still not sure if he even wants you to know he’s on the other side of it or not.
“Knocking might make her answer though.” He explains with a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair pushing a few pieces up out of his face.
“Ah yes that’s true but don’t you think it’s easier to knock now and risk her answering than to have to explain yourself if she opens the door to leave and just sees you standing there like a potted plant?” She asks as she gives Harry a once over and smiles when she catches a glimpse of the little brown bag from the bakery down the street. “Don’t stand there all day. It’s bad for your knees.” Is the last bit of advice she offers him before she turns and heads for the elevators.
Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he raises his free hand up to knock on your door, but just before his knuckles meet the wood he drops his hand to his side and lets out a groan. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, feeling as if for the most part he stuck to your demand and waited to try to speak to you till he got the results of the test that he already knew was going to tell him the twins you are carrying are in fact his, but he also knows he might’ve irritated you a little with his texts the other night and something tells him you’re the type to hold a grudge. So truthfully Harry does know why he’s nervous, because if you hold a grudge then that means your cat Paris probably does as well and while Harry isn’t in the mood to be used as a chew toy he is willing to endure as many bites to the ankles as you deem necessary to get himself on your good side but that’s only if you even allow him into your apartment.
“For fuck sake man just knock on the damn door.” He mumbles to himself and before he can overthink it he quickly raises his hand to your door and gives it three solid knocks before bringing his hand to his side. Harry waits for what feels like half an hour but in reality is a full three minutes before he swallows down the rest of his nerves and chances another knock, this time making it a tad bit harder than the last set because maybe you’re not in the living room and didn’t hear the first ones he did.
“She’s at work.” Harry jumps slightly as a voice comes from behind him, he looks over his shoulder just in time to see a younger man locking his door that’s directly across from yours. “I’m not a creep or anything I feed Paris on Friday night because that’s her late shift and the man will scream and shout if he’s not fed at exactly six on the dot.” The young man explains when Harry gives him a questioning raise of the brow.
“Does he bite you?” He doesn’t even know why that’s the first thing he asks but he can’t take it back so he just stands there a bit awkwardly as the man looks Harry up and down before shoving his keys into his back pocket.
“Nope.” He answers with a slight smirk before he turns and heads to the elevators. Harry doesn’t know why that answer stirs something up inside of him but he doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it as he pulls out his phone from his back pocket and scrolls to his conversation with you.
“You’re at work…but where do you-” Harry looks through the texts and a smile of satisfaction takes over his face when he sees the answer typed out in a dull gray bubble. “The library but-wait which one?” His smile slowly fades as he looks up from his phone and lets out a deep sigh. “Nothing with her is ever going to be easy is it?” He asks himself as he turns so he can lean his back against your door, he bends down to place the little brown paper bag by his feet so he can begin his search for which library you work at.
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You pinch your brows together as you lean over your desk to try to get a better look at the writing on the piece of paper in front of you. You look up from the paper and then to your right towards the computer screen to double check what you’re reading on the paper matches what the screen says, you place your right index finger on the screen and your left index finger on the paper and go word by word until the sentence is complete. Once satisfied that they do really match and your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, you reach over and grab your bright pink highlighter out of your peace sign shaped pen holder and highlight the sentence on the paper with a smile.
“Okay now just take those stairs and you can’t miss her she’s the only one who works down there.” You lift your head up at the sound of Dona, one of the librarians who work upstairs, very clearly giving someone directions on how to find you.
“Thank you so much.” You feel the highlighter fall from your hand as a very familiar British accent hits your ears just before the stairs begin to creak letting you know he just begun his descent and you only have a few moments of peace left until he’s standing right in front of you.
“Do you know how many public libraries there are in this city?” You don’t bother to look up at him as he speaks, instead you just pick up your highlighter and place the cap back on before putting it in your pen holder.
“Oddly enough I do.” You answer as you keep your eyes on the paper in front of you, Harry lets out a sigh as he places a brown paper bag on the edge of your desk before he turns to take a look around your unusual place of work. He’s been to libraries before but never in the basement where the cataloging and administrative work is done so his curiosity gets the best of him as he begins to walk around the tables and carts of books.
“Well I had no clue there were so many and did you know that if you call them and ask if someone with your lovely name works there they’ll say no?”
“Makes sense because I can’t work at all of them now can I?”
“True but then as my list got smaller and smaller and I was beginning to think that maybe you just lied about working at a library. I called this one.” When you finally look up you find Harry standing off to the side of the room next to a stack of books on a rolling cart that haven’t been entered into the system yet, his eyes scanning the titles as if he’s seeing if any look familiar to him. “And a wonderful woman named Dona answered the phone.” His eyes meet yours as he looks up from the book titles and you feel yourself want to smile at the way his lips curl upwards into what looks like a playful smirk as he takes a few steps towards your desk.
“We do love Dona around here.” You state with a shrug because it’s the truth, Dona is a well loved employee and the day she decides to retire will be the saddest day of work you’ll ever have to deal with minus the one day when the coffee machine didn’t work in the employee lounge.
“I can understand why. When I asked her if you worked here she said yes but normally people who are looking for someone who works in the basement have the direct line because-”
“Most people who work upstairs don’t even know I’m down here.” You finish for him just as he takes his final step that places him right in front of you.
“Exactly and she even was nice enough to inform me that if I wanted to come pay you a visit I was allowed to do so. I just had to let her give me a tour first.” He says as he grabs the bag off the edge of the desk, you raise an eyebrow at him when he holds it out towards you. “Sorry it’s not warm anymore but I did get it for you over an hour ago.” He explains while watching you open the bag and look inside, Harry isn’t sure what your reaction is going to be given this is the first sort of nice thing he’s done for you so he’s anxious as you reach your hand in and pull out the donut.
“You got me this an hour ago?” You question as you bring the classic glazed donut up to your nose to take a little smell before placing it back in the bag. Harry has to stop himself from frowning as you close the bag up and place it on the side of your desk. “Why an hour ago?”
“That’s when I knocked on your door.”
“On my door? Like my apartment door?”
“Yeah but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh yeah because I’m at work.”
“I can see that.” Now Harry really doesn’t mean to be so snippy but he also didn’t plan on searching the internet for twenty minutes and making a list of twelve different libraries and calling every single one of them, only to be put on hold every time while trying to find you, just to have you smell his donut and push it to the side like you couldn’t care less about it.
“I appreciate this but I’m sorry I-I can’t eat it.” Harry’s annoyance instantly dissolves as you point to the brown bag holding his sugary peace offering. “It didn’t end too well the last time I had donuts and I’m just a little nervous to try again right now.” You add as you stand up from your chair, Harry’s eyes glance down towards your stomach and he feels his heart begin to beat faster as he sees what he swears is the smallest appearance of a bump right where your t shirt clings to your leggings in the front.
“Are you-oh.” You follow his gaze and see what or more so where his eyes are fixated at and out of instinct you place a hand over the very small bump that seemed to have appeared over night as soon as you hit eleven weeks yesterday. You walk around your desk so you can get to your purse that’s on a rolling cart along with a little stereo, your lunchbox full of snacks and water bottle. “I uh didn’t know if you would want these or not but I grabbed them for you after you…” You don’t bother to finish your sentence as you dig around in your bag while Harry turns so he’s facing you, eyes a little wide and his cheeks the tiniest bit flushed clearly taken off guard seeing you begin to actually look pregnant.
“You didn’t look-I thought you wouldn’t show until-until way later? It’s only been a week and a half since-since I saw you.” You shrug as you finally find what you’re looking for, a white envelope and pull it from your bag before turning and handing it to Harry who still has a look of shock on his face as his eyes go back to staring at your tummy.
“I mean there are two of them in there and I’m eleven weeks so that means they are the size of-”
“Limes.” You both say at the same time.
Harry ignores your questioning look as he opens the envelop, already knowing what’s inside. But when he pulls them out he feels like his world is spinning as his eyes scan the ultrasound photos because there in a grainy gray scale photo are the twins, his twins that have no idea how much they’ve already changed his whole world. He can’t do much besides just stare at them with a slight smile on his face and the two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a moment before you reach over and place a hand on his wrist giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s okay if you think they look like floating beans.” You joke as an attempt to help him not get too lost in his emotions as his eyes get a very familiar sheen to them, he sniffles as he lets out a light chuckle and looks up at you briefly before looking back down to the photos in his hands.
“They do look a little bean like don’t they?” You just nod and take your hand from around his wrist causing him to look up as you turn to grab your lunchbox off the cart before going back to your desk. “What have you been eating or I don’t know? Craving the most so far?” He asks as he puts the ultrasound photos back in the envelop and slides it into his back pocket.
“Jam on toast.”
“What kind of jam? Or just any kind of jam?”
“This week it’s been strawberry but last week I tried blueberry and I hated it. I didn’t like the smell or the texture.” You scrunch your nose up at the thought of the blueberry jam from last week. “So it didn’t last longer than a day so I tried this orange marmalade stuff and it was good and then before that it was raspberry and that’s been my favorite so far but the-”
“Wait so you’ve really just been eating an assortment of jams on toast?” He quirks a brow as he tries to imagine you surviving off of random bits of toast and weird flavored jams the last few weeks.
“Yes. But it’s not all I eat but you asked what I’ve been craving the most.” You answer as you pull out a small container from your bright pink lunch box. “And so far I’ve just been craving jam and really crunchy toast.” You explain as Harry watches you open the container and just as he leans over a bit to see what’s in it you roll your eyes and lift it up so he can get a clear view of the inside. ���It’s just carrots. Is that an okay thing for me to snack on? Or would you prefer something else?”
“What’s with the attitude? I didn’t even say any-”
“Your face said it for you with the eyebrow and that just constant look of disapproval you have lingering behind those big dumb green eyes.” You take a bite of one of your carrots as you lean back in your chair, Harry crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the table that has a few stacks of books on it that are just waiting to be taken upstairs to be shelved.
“You hanging around all these books all day really explains why you say things the way you do because who actually says things like I have a lingering look of disapproval behind my eyes?” You fight the urge to throw a carrot at him and you would if you weren’t hungry but honestly with your luck you’d miss him completely and he not only would just have one more thing to poke fun at you about but you’d be down a carrot with nothing to show for it.
“Sorry do you only like it when people use big words in lyrical form? I could sing for you if that would help you understand it better? I’ve been told I have a wonderful voice.” Harry lets out a laugh making you glare at him as you take a bite of another carrot.
“I’ve heard you sing and trust me the word wonderful isn’t the one that I’d use to describe your voice.”
“Is there a reason you’re here Harry or are you just trying to ruin all my places of peace?” You ask with a sigh and that’s when Harry looks away from you and down to the floor as he lets out a heavy sigh as he uncrosses his arms from his chest and brings a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. You watch as you can practically see the gears moving in his head as he tries to ready himself for what you know is probably an apology and you decide to just save him the trouble.
“Before you say anything I just need you to know I uhm-I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive you for how you acted at Dr. Andrews office I just really-it upset me and I’m not ready yet so if you want to save your apology for later that would-uhm would be fine.” You physically feel as if someone lifted a five pound weight off your chest once you’re done talking, you wait a moment for Harry to react but all he does is slowly look up from the floor until he meets your eyes and just gives you a nod.
“I understand you’re not ready and that’s fine I get it.” You just stare at him and he knows you expect him to argue with you, to tell you that you have to forgive him so the two of you can move on but he doesn’t and that seems odd to you. “But I do need you to know I am deeply sorry for my behavior and-”
“Harry please don’t.” He closes his mouth when he hears you sniffle quietly but not quietly enough that he misses it. “Not now please.” You normally would never stoop to borderline begging, especially to Harry but in this moment you know if he continues you will be full on crying in less than a minute and you have a rule about crying over boys at work, it’s just not something you do.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.” To that you just shrug as you pick up another carrot while Harry walks over to your cart and grabs your water bottle.
“It’s okay I’m easily upset-able these days.” You tease making Harry give you a small smile as he places your water bottle on your desk, you return his smile as you lean over and grab it so you can take a few sips from it.
“So my mom was wondering-”
“Wait you really told your mom?”
“Yes?”
“Why-why would you tell your mom about me?”
“Uh because you’re carrying her grandchildren?”
Harry watches you slowly close the lid to your water bottle all while appearing as if you’re looking at him but you’re really looking through him, your eyes are slightly wide and your teeth are bitting into your bottom lip and he thinks maybe this is what you look like when you’re on the verge of a panic attack. So he does something to try to keep you from full on sinking into whatever panic inducing thoughts he can clearly tell are swirling around in your head as he lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair, not really believing he’s about to tell you this but he just hopes it helps distract you from what’s going on in your mind.
“I called her the night you told me I wasn’t allowed in your apartment and that you didn’t want to speak to me until I knew the results of the paternity test.” He watches your face carefully as he speaks and when he sees your eyes travel from the cross pendant around his neck up to his eyes he takes this as his chance to be honest about how he handled that evening. “I uh well I sort of had a bit of a breakdown and cried to her for a solid hour about everything and I know we haven’t discussed telling people or how to go about doing that sort of thing but I needed to talk to someone and uh well she’s- she’s-”
“Your mom.” You softly finish his sentence for him and he just nods. “I get it Harry I really do I just wasn’t expecting it that’s all and I don’t know why because you’re right I’m carrying her grandchildren so yeah she’s going to want to know about me I just-it’s just all feeling a bit real now.” You explain as well as you can with all the different thoughts whirling around in your head and Harry gives you a playful smile that makes you raise a brow at him as he takes a step towards your desk.
“Oh I know that had to hurt.” You look at him confused as he places a hand on your desk so he can lean over your pen holder and grab a carrot out of your container. “You just said I was right.” He adds after taking a bite out of it and finally noticing the look on your face. You let out an annoyed huff as you grab your container of carrots and pull it closer to you so he can’t reach it.
“It did hurt but I know it’s not a pain I’ll have to get used to anytime soon.” You watch Harry roll his eyes as he finishes off his carrot. “So your mom wants to meet me? When?” You ask as you reach for the lid for the container so you can put it back in your lunch box.
“Sunday for lunch.” Harry casually states as he turns and heads for the stairs he took to get down to your work area. You quickly stand up and place your hands on your hips and you glare at the back of his head as he walks away. “I have to go because I didn’t plan on spending most of my afternoon searching for the secret dungeon you work in but I’ll send you the details okay?” He calls from over his shoulder as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he pauses and turns his head towards you deciding to wait to see how you’re going to respond.
“It’s not a dungeon it’s a basement. And what? No Harry that’s not okay. Sunday is in two days.”
“I’m so glad you not only know all these great big words but also your days of the week. Quite impressive.”
“You can’t just tell me I’m meeting your mom in two days-”
“Well to be fair I tried to tell you on Wednesday but you weren’t having it because of your rule or whatever about not talking until today.”
“Rule or whatever? It’s called a boundary Harry and I set it because you were being an asshole and I needed to protect myself.” Harry places a hand on the railing of the stairs as he turns to fully look at you and you can tell by the way his brows are pinched together and his mouth is set into a hard line that he isn’t sure how to take the information you just gave him.
“Protect yourself? From what?” He asks as he stays standing at the bottom of the stairs, you cross your arms over your chest as you glance down at your desk not really wanting to look at him as you answer because you know what you’re about to say is going to hurt his feelings and for some reason you don’t think you can handle seeing his face when that happens.
“From you and your-your just horrible attitude about this whole situation.” You let out a sigh as one of your hands falls to your tummy as you try to not get yourself too worked up over the memory of the last time you saw Harry. “I didn’t want you ruining anything else for me so I just needed some space and you-you agreed to it so I figured you were happy to have an excuse not to have to talk or deal with me for a bit.” You manage to get all of your thoughts out without tossing a single glance at Harry instead you rub a circle over your tummy a few times as you look down and stare at the paper on your desk, not ready to look at him as you feel his eyes practically burning a hole in the top of your head.
Harry feels his heart drop as you explain your real reasoning behind not wanting to talk to him until today and while he knows he hasn’t been the easiest person to be around during this whole experience so far he had no idea his attitude had made you feel like him talking and doing things with you was more of a chore for him, something he would gladly take a break from when offered. Hearing you tell him you didn’t want him ruining anything else hits him harder than he lets on, knowing the reason you said it is because he has already ruined an extremely special day for you to the point you’re not ready to forgive him or even hear his apology. Hearing you admit you didn’t want to risk him doing that again makes him feel like he’s been punched in the gut. But he just does his best to shake those feelings off, not allowing himself to sink into the thoughts of guilt and pool of self loathing when he has things he has to get done today.
Harry slowly nods his head as he takes in your words and when you finally look up from your desk and let your eyes glance over at him he gives you a one shoulder shrug and a closed lipped smile as he turns to start heading up the stairs. Now he knows that the words he’s about to say will cause the two of you to slip right back into your usual back and forth bantering ways and while that’s not exactly good he knows neither of you are ready nor have the time to have a real conversation about his past actions regarding this pregnancy, so for now this is the best the two of you can do. So as his foot hits the first step he tilts his head a little so he can see you and lets the words fall from his mouth.
“Well it was a nice break but I did miss our little chats that’s why I reached out but you stuck to your guns and that’s fine but now you’re the one who’s mad about the two day notice about meeting my mom.”
“God you really are such an asshole. Did you have to take classes to reach this level of assholery or is this just all natural?” Harry tosses a playful glare at you as you throw your usual insult at him as you place a hand on your hip while the other still rests on your tummy.
“Now Cranky must you use such language around the babies? You know they can hear everything.” The nickname rolls off his tongue a little too easily as does the mention of the twins and you feel your eyes narrow into a glare making his mouth form a smirk because in that moment he knows he’s gotten to you. “I’ll send you the information about lunch and if you want I’ll even have a driver come get you? But I have a meeting in fifteen minutes so I really have to go.” You just stand there and stare at one another for a moment before Harry continues his way up the stairs while you roll your eyes.
“Whatever. Bye Mr. Popular.” You ignore his small wave as you sit back down in your chair, you begin typing an email when you hear the familiar creak of the stairs letting you know Harry is near the top step. You smile to yourself as you decide to tease him once more before he leaves because after all, it’s what he deserves and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll even get to witness it.
“Be careful on those stairs. Don’t want you falling down and scraping a knee.” Harry stops mid-step as your words hit his ears and he turns his head slightly just to see you sitting there typing something on your computer not even bothering to look at him. He lets out a an annoyed huff as he continues up the stairs, all while you’re completely unaware that early yesterday morning while on a run Harry did in fact trip and has a minor scrape on his knee resulting in a bit of an annoying pain when it bends that makes him think of you every time he feels it.
After a few moments of silence you let out a huff and lean back in your chair and place both hands on your small bump as you look at the brown paper bag sitting at the side of your desk. You begin to picture Harry standing in line at the bakery down the street from your apartment and you can see it all so clearly, the wrinkle between his brow forming as his eyes are scanning the case of donuts before finally landing on the glazed and deciding on that one because it’s the safest option since he doesn’t know what’s causing you to get nauseous, he just knows you get nauseous. You want to roll your eyes at yourself for how a donut in a crumbled brown bag is making you think that maybe Harry isn’t all bad, obviously he isn’t all that great either but this donut and the way he took the time to find where you work is a clear sign that he’s at least trying. You let out a soft sigh as Harry’s words about how the twins can hear everything play in your head.
“So I guess you two should know something.” Your voice is soft as you look down at your hands on your bump. “Your dad is Harry Styles.” The words feel weighted as you say them out loud for the first time and you feel a bit silly when you find yourself sniffling as your eyes begin to get that familiar sting to them making you blink a few times to keep the tears from actually falling.
“And he has these big dumb green eyes. But he can also be kinda nice when he wants to be.” You say with a small smile as your eyes once again land on the brown bag on your desk. “So I know you two will like him because sometimes I do.”
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ennabear · 2 days ago
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hehehe haii :P quick roblox with sevika blurb, inspired by lyss and pluto who are my roblox family 🤎 this is stupid and silly hehe don’t mind me i just think old woman playing video game is funny. also mutuals add me on roblox my username is sevikasgf_real!!
general:
ok so first of all, it would take FOREVER for her to make an account 😭 she does not know how to make a username and she’d probably try to enter something like “tittysucker2000” and get mad that the system says it’s not appropriate. but after a while of her struggling to come up with something that isn’t censored, she’d settle for something cute (like ennasgf_real) because you got tired of her struggling and being annoying.
her avatar would be so fucking funny!! purple skin and a bob, some random shirt that she found for free in the catalog, probably a picture of someone’s dog or something. she’d end up clicking around too much and find a way to make all of her limbs different shapes and sizes but not know how to fix it, so she just embraces the look of her avatar.
if you bought her robux she’d very likely spend it all in one place… she’d see a random costume that she wants to buy and suddenly all of robux are down the drain…
she would get banned from voice chat INSTANTLY. ignores all of the warnings that pop up on her screen for not following the guidelines. it starts with a ton of quick suspensions and then she’s just permanently in vc jail.
SCREAMS at the little kids who bully her. is not ashamed to get in a little online scuffle in order to protect her ego. nobody is about to call her ugly or old or uneducated if she can help it… this, obviously, is how she ends up getting banned.
also she gets noise complaints when she plays. multiple. from you and her neighbors both, she just completely forgets about volume when someone says that she’s probably lying about having a wife… but it is a little bit cute to know that she’s doing it in your honor.
it would take her FOREVER to figure out voice chat. she doesn’t know how to do it off the top of her head, so she googles how to do it but can’t find a straight answer. goes running around the house in search of her passport because she thinks that’s what she needs but you’re just like “babe… enter your phone number and it’ll let you… that’s all you need to do…”
dress to impress:
playing with her would be so fun because she does not know her way around anything. you’d force her on to dress to impress and she’d be so lost. is not aware that there’s a time limit or a theme to follow. by the end of the round she’s still gray and her outfit is half finished and she’s like “what is it doing?? why is there a runway??? i wasn’t done with my outfit.”
the people in the chat would respond like “bruh what is this” or “oh!” to her outfit, but you’re there to back her up and vote her 5 stars anyways <33. but if they start to get too mean, she’ll force you to tell her how to use the chat and she’ll type something like “fuck you guys at least i have a wife” which of course comes out as all ####.
and when she sees all of the tags, she’d be like “what the hell?? i didn’t type that 😭” and you’d have to gently explain to her that it’s because roblox filters certain things you say, especially like “fuck you” and probably every other thought that came to her mind when she was typing it.
ofc you and her would both get first and second place because you vote each other 5 stars, even though her outfits are… well… you know… not the prettiest…
murder mystery:
if you thought her in dress to impress was bad, it gets WORSE. no matter how many times you explain to her the rules of the game, she is LOST, as well as every single synonym for confused in the dictionary. perplexed. puzzled. stupefied. dumbfounded. all of the above.
as an innocent, she’d probably just follow you the whole time, waiting until the sheriff kills the murderer or time runs out.
as the murderer, she’d probably tell on herself IMMEDIATELY. has her microphone on in voice chat and says “what does it mean that i’ll get my weapon in 10 seconds??” and she’s shot before the round even lasts half a minute. either that or she’d keep it to herself, but walk around with her knife out the whole time absolutely cluelessly. she probably thinks that others can’t see it, or maybe she can’t see it herself.
she’d be like “babe i’m so scared :( i wonder who the murderer is…” and she’s standing in front of you like 🤷🏽‍♀️🔪 LMAOOO
as the sheriff, she’d either shoot some random person who walks past her and die for getting it wrong, or she’d freak out and spam 100 different buttons while trying to shoot the murderer. she’s jumping and running around, screaming at the top of her lungs because she’s so scared, clicking her screen in every place but where the murderer is standing.
with others:
imagine jinx and isha existing in this universe, she’d drain her whole bank account on robux for the 3 of them 😭 but, and as much as she’d HATE to admit this, she actually really enjoys playing with them.
isha is still learning how to spell, so her and jinx would cackle at everything the poor girl types coming out as straight hashtags. especially when she’s fighting with someone, they’d both watch her get heated and absolutely smash her little fingers into her ipad keyboard trying to type things out, but then comfort her when she gets too frustrated to continue.
also, if isha ever gets hit with “you’re probably a 5 year old” from someone, sevika would be like “yeah, she is 😭” but jinx would stand up for her and type out PARAGRAPHS about how isha is so young and still better than whoever insulted her. jinx 100% has memorized all of the words that roblox flags, so she has no problem facing the hashtags.
they’re also such bad influences on your wife, they manage to convince her to buy more robux for them almost every week. you’ve caught her up in the middle of the night, phone sideways in her hand running around in a new game she’s found. you try taking your family out to dinner and they all just pull out their phones (isha, her ipad, still too young for a personal phone) and hop onto some new game jinx found. it’s adorable, yes, but definitely not the best habit she’s ever formed.
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felinalain · 3 days ago
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Yo, I know this post is now very very old, but I want to set the record straight if people stumble on it nowadays because it actually was more complex than this. Like, I don't want to assume anything, but from what Zainclaw write, I'm gonna go on a limb and say "you read the Cates comics, but didn't interact more than that, like read his interviews or twitter". Correct me if I'm wrong.
Ok, so at first, when Cate started his run, fans were a bit taken aback by the sudden change of mood, but not against it. Shippers too, were ok with it. Then we got the "I love you Eddie" issue, and we all were "oh sacrifice for love! we like! angst! yesss!"
But then, Cates did an interview. And in that interview, he explained that (unlike what 99% of readers understood) he'd written that issue not as a display of love between symbiote and Eddie, but as a demonstration of the symbiote evil nature.
I don't recall his exact words (I got posts from that era in my venom tag, which have the exact words) but I recall the general sentence being along the lines of "Oh yeah, Eddie almost died and it's the symbiote fault entirely. It's evil, it's just manipulating him."
At which point everyone went "??????" and people, from tumblr AND elsewhere, started asking him on twitter for clarifications. Because that... wasn't at all how it read?
Forward to a few issues later. More and more Cates write in subtle changes and weird subtext that feel off. But, much more impacting, on twitter, he start engaging with fans in general, saying he's "happy to discuss about what we think of his run with us."
Except... anyone who asked him anything that wasn't layered in praises? Got blocked. I'm not kidding. You asked a question, you could get blocked. Most polite tweet ever, asking why he was retconning this small detail here and there? Blocked.
Then the infamous issue 11. In which Cates proceeded to retcon a LOT of stuff about Eddie backstory AND the symbiote, in one big ugly go.
Eddie's childhood, his motivations, his relationships, even his personality. Rectonned, on the basis (from Cates tweet) that he didn't have any. (anyone who had read any 90s Venom know that is false)
The symbiote motivation and actions, too, retconned to make it appear as the worse thing that ever happened to Eddie. (exemple I recall most: Eddie didn't develop cancer, the symbiote gave him cancer. Which makes no sense since it LEFT Eddie BECAUSE of the cancer.)
At which point ALL fans got angry, as it happens when heavy retcons occur.
And then he started the Carnage event, and retconned Carnage (Cletus and the carnage symbiote) past, motivations, etc. And again was hit by a wave of negative reaction (this time it went beyond tumblr, it reached reddit and some specific venom forums as well)
Which is also the point at which Cates said he got death threats. And accused the shippers and people of tumblr to be responsible for all of those.
Now, first: death threats? Not ok. Ever. Anyone does that, they're shit. That's not even a question.
But accusing tumblr users and shippers? Essentially throwing them to the dogs? (because Cates fanboys were swift to enact 'retribution' and he did NOT call them off) was NOT cool. (Especially given the timing which seemed to point more to fans angry at the mass of overall retcon more than to shippers.)
What followed was a dark period of mutual hatred.
He would vague tweet about specific tumblr users, quoting them without dropping their handle, and mocking them openly. Tumblr users would make entire essays about how bad his writing was, finding every single plot hole, lack of consistency etc in it, and tear it apart. (again, I have some incredible essays from that time, which went into incredible in-depth analysis of his writing AND of venom history and story and themes, if anyone want to go look for those in my venom tag. Like, true, structured analysis not just rants.)
He mocked shippers during convention panels. They scoured for interviews he did, and exposed how much of a dick he was.
It was a shitty time, but it was very much NOT one sided because Cates did have a very, very big ego, and it showed. It showed in his interactions, and in his interviews, where he would go on to say things like:
"I don't care about continuity, comics are made of retcon anyway."
"I just do whatever I want, I don't even realise what I write has consequences most of the time."
"I return my work at the very last second before deadline, to make sure my editor doesn't have time to go over it and change anything I wrote."
There was also the time he tried to highjack a giveaway event to look better, or when he made a "did you assume the symbiote gender?" joke, to a queer fan, only to (when told so) block them with a "ugh, whatever".
No I'm not kidding (I actually have the screenshot for the giveaway thing). He said and did those things. (Once again, the posts with links to those interview, and screenshots of his tweets are in my venom tag, if any want to go looking)
I left the fandom a couple issues later, when Cates rather lackluster writing "all bling, no substance" (IMO), and how he seemed to do everything in his power to avoid writing about the symbiote as a character, bored me, so I'm not aware of how the whole thing died down. I'm returning now with a slightly reklinded interest from the last movie.
But yeah.
The whole "he didn't deserve to be hated for his run" Well, he wasn't hated for his run. He was hated for his attitude. But it spilled over for sure.
And "He openly spoke to and supported the Symbrock shippers on Twitter" Well I dunno if he deleted his other tweets on the matter later on (which would leave people thinking so) but while he did post this one tweet where he said he supported the shippers, I recall that tweet being rather condescending (I recall something along the lines of "Yeah, I totally support you guys, with your imaginary ship, it can be fun!") and followed by a wave of much more belittling tweets ("The haters are just six people on tumblr, all shippers")
It also doesn't help that DURING his angst-fest run, ALL the other writer who got to write Venom side stories wrote some of the most "THEY'RE IN LOVE!" shit you could imagine. The contrast would give you whiplash I swear.
Like, it's during that same period that we got the comic where Eddie and the symbiote fuck. Like, almost on-screen fuck. Fade to black "Watch the teeth" fuck.
And the various writers of those side-stories, when asked "uh... is this... is this actually like, shippy? We're not imagining it? It's official canon shippy stuff?" would just go and say "Yeah duh."
As time went on, a lot of more casual fans also "turned" against him, as in, started getting bored of his run and of his writing because he would drag and drag on the plot without actually any good resolution. Like promising a firework, and giving people a small finger-petard thingy that barely pop. (there is a lot of post-run commentary on forums, about how, past the hype, a lot of people write about realising that Cates writing is lackluster.)
So anyway. Yeah. Was it a shitty period to be a fan? Yep.
Was it better if you weren't on social media and just read in your corner? Undubitably. (sadly not my case, and boy do I regret it. I wish I'd just stayed far away from that. Soooo far away. That's a lesson I learned now, I'm never touching any social for any fandom ever again aside from praising fanart and fanfics)
Was it entirely the fans (shippers) fault? Nope.
So what is the conclusion of this mess?
Don't interact on social media I guess? Never meet your... I won't say hero here, at all, but you get the idea.
Read comics and enjoy them in your corner. You'll be safer that way trust me.
Hello. I am a new symbrock shipper and i really appreciate your posts of the excerpts from the comics. But i was wondering which part of the comic people said the writer (the cates one) erased some kind of part about the eddie & venom? It gets me curious somehow and was wondering if you knew about this.
...I’ve actually been expecting someone to ask me about this, sooner or later. Kinda been dreading it, tbh XD But here goes.
(This is quite a long and serious answer, and I totally get if not everyone wanna read this, but as more and more people are becoming interested in the Venom comics, I do think this is an important thing to address.)
This is also a conversation about fandom.
*deep breath*
First of all. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and just like some people might be upset with the writers of a tv-show when things take a turn they don't agree with, some people are upset with the changes Donny Cates did when he took over the Venom comics after Mike Costa. Yes.
But here’s the thing:
The Venom comics have had many writers (and artists) over the years. I mean, jesus christ, the Venom symbiote’s very first appearance was back in 1988. That’s over 30 fucking years ago, people. At this point, I don’t think it’s realistic to expect the feel of the story to be the same under every single writer that comes on. I just don’t.
In 1996 Len Kaminski gave us Eddie and his symbiote holding hands and giving each other chocolate gifts with love hearts and the line “it’s not human, but it’s given me things no girlfriend ever could” in The Hunger. Then, 20 years later, in 2017-2018, we had Mike Costa give us Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ and ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ and refer to their partnership as a relationship and finally made them have a baby together in First Host.
(I strongly recommend using my masterlist of comics excerpts as a timeline here to understand what the hell I’m talking about.)
Sure, Cates hasn’t had Eddie calling the symbiote ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ since he took over. I guess you could say he “removed” that. Do I miss that part? Yeah. Of course. But as far as I know, no one had Eddie and the symbiote hold hands again in the 20 years following The Hunger, either. Different writers have told different stories, chose to focus on different things.
Cates chose to go down a very angsty route. To, for example, bring back the topic of the Venom symbiote having a past with Flash Thompson, of sometimes wanting to be with him more than Eddie, and feeling torn about who to choose, and Eddie’s pain and jealousy over that. This is something Mike Costa barely touched on during his run. Costa wanted domestic bliss, so that’s what he did. But that doesn’t remove past canon. Not for him, or anyone else.
I’ve said this before - have basically warned people who’ve come to me saying they wanna start reading the comics because of my excerpts - but the comics are fucking angsty. There’s a reason I’ve made a point of posting Symbrock highlights from the comics, rather than just say “read the comics, they’re just never-ending domestic Symbrock bliss” because they’re not.
Eddie Brock is not a happy man, and his relationship with the Venom symbiote has been obsessive, possessive and unhealthy at times. They have grown a lot and come a long way over the years, but this has always been a part of their canon. Eddie’s fear of being alone, of being the symbiote’s second choice.
This side of them is part of why I, personally, find their relationship so intriguing. How they can’t stay away from each other, even though they're both so flawed and not always good “people”, and don’t really know how to keep their relationship healthy.
And I think Cates must have felt the same way, because he’s chose to dive into Eddie as his own person. He’s made Eddie face his demons, his past, deal with his fear of being alone and do a lot of growing in ways I haven’t seen him do in any previous comics. He wanted to tell the story of Eddie Brock, to perhaps let him become a better person than he was, in order to make the relationship between him and the Venom symbiote better. And in my personal opinion, he’s doing a great job of that.
I’m very much against the “fandom hive mind” thing, and the thought of new people entering the Venom/Symbrock fandom and simply adopting the “we hate Donny Cates, he ruined the comics” mentality because they see so many other shippers feel that way, is so upsetting to me. I don’t like how entitled fans can become at times.
(I don’t know how many people who still follow me from my Teen Wolf days, but, damn, I’m embarrassed about a lot of stuff that went down between that fandom and the show runners/actors. It was a silly teenage show on MTV, and yet so many adults (myself included) thought they should have a say in where the story went, and not. It took me a long time to realize that, but there it is.)
Donny Cates did NOT deserve the hate he got from so many Symbrock shippers back in 2018. He’s NOT unfaithful to the story of Venom as a whole, and has NOT ignored previous canon. He openly spoke to and supported the Symbrock shippers on Twitter, before they tore him to pieces for not being Mike Costa. For, in their opinion, completely ignoring the loving nature of their relationship.
But like?
Cates is the one who gave us the Venom symbiote’s first “I love you, Eddie”. Cates is the one who gave us Eddie getting phantom limb syndrome from being apart from the symbiote. Cates is the only one, in my opinion, who’s given us SO many beautifully heartbreaking inner dialogues from Eddie like that about love and loss and longing, all referring to the Venom symbiote. Cates is the one who gave us the exchange “You found me” / “Always” that I’m still crying about.
My point being: I don’t think it’s fair at all to say that Cates has ignored the intimate relationship between Eddie and the symbiote. Because he hasn’t.
And it wouldn’t surprise me if, one day, when the Venom comics get a writer who actually doesn’t treat Eddie and the symbiote like romantic partners, people will look back on previous runs and say “wow I miss what Cates did.”
But,
I’m not here to convince anyone that Cates’ run is better than, or even as good as, Costa’s. I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to love every Venom comic that’s come out in the past 30 years written by several different writers. That’s unrealistic. You’re allowed to have a favorite Venom writer. You’re allowed to think that where Mike Costa’s comics ended, Eddie and the Venom symbiote’s story ended, for you. You’re also allowed to, like me, enjoy the angsty and slow burn story currently being told by Donny Cates.
You don’t have to hate Cates just because you’re a Symbrock shipper.
That’s all I wanted to say, more or less.
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zero-in-kyoto · 2 days ago
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please make headcannons about okarun as a boyfriend :3
GUYS OMG IM SO SORRYYYY
I’ve been so busy lately and I did get a lot of requests!! So I will be doing them asap, heheh!
(I got a lot for Takakura and Jiji so yeah those will be dropped soon!)
//———//
Tags: Lots of fluff, no use of Y/N or name, reader is just called “you”, suggested fem reader? (I can make another for male reader if asked!), mostly just focused on you two.
Okarun boyfriend headcanons
- He absolutely made the first move, but not on purpose at all.
- You were both fighting together and he ended up getting the wind knocked THE FUCK out of him, literally almost cried and said fuck this shit.
- Only jokes though, he would not actually leave.
- He would get up and continue trying to fight and attempt to protect you. All those times you were fighting together would resonate with him at this moment and he’d start going on a rant about how you make him feel.
- Him having a crush on you would be so obvious that it’s so hard to believe that he actually even like you and is trying to keep it secret.
- Will stare at you.
- Will continuously rant to you about sci-fy topics.
- Will insist on acting tough and like a gentleman to impress you. (He ends up looking really dumb but in a cute way)
- He would draw you a lot and one time you stumbled across a drawing and it was you as an alien and you genuinely didn’t know how to feel about it and he felt bad and felt scared to talk to you for the next few hours.
- He isn’t exactly the needy type, but after you get together he will need reassurance especially if you have close male friends.
- Absolutely hates being jealous in all senses but will absolutely fight for you if he feels the need.
- If you’re into stars and astrology type shit, he would make one of those solar system type projects for you but it would be so expertly made.
- As your boyfriend he would always want to get you little trinkets, like inexpensive things that remind him of you.
- If anyone talks shit about you, he will not tolerate it at all. You wouldn’t even have to tell him cause somehow he already knows. He’ll come out the shadow like he’s Batman ready to beat that ass up for justice.
- He would be more hesitant to let you get into dangerous type situations but he’s not controlling at all by any means, so he won’t stop you but will do what he can to help and protect you along the way.
-He would most likely not initiate a kiss first until like a bit into the relationship because he’d be worried about the timing but he’d gradually get more comfortable kissing and hugging you without asking if it’s alright like 1000000 times.
- if you go to school together, you would ask him for the homework answers and he’d be a smart ass and ask why you didn’t do it yourself. (He’d give them to you.
- Will get ALL UP in your ass (not literally. Not sus) if you aren’t taking care of yourself. He will scold you but his words most his words weigh heavy on your heart due to how concerned his voice will sound the whole time.
- One time he would stop wearing his glasses and when you ask about he would explain that he heard from one of your friends that you didn’t like boys with glasses. (SABOTAGING HOE👿.. GRRR)
- Probably wouldn’t really like PDA all that much but he would never be afraid of telling the whole world that you’re his lover and that he’s your boyfriend.
- If he found out anything other girls had a thing for him, he would immediately turn them down.
- He would NOT like his lover being jealous at all. Causing any pain to his partner physically or mentally would absolutely hurt.
- He would panic if you’re sick and try his best to take care of you.
- If you threw up in front of him, he would definitely throw up too.
- He will start to copy things you do and say after a while if you doing them without realizing and you ask him where he got it and he’d just say it’s something he picked up somewhere. (He doesn’t want you to think he’s making fun of you.)
- If yall were a meme, you’d be "I don't like them at all," Takakura says, then he suddenly tripped and fell to the ground, as multiple pictures of you fell out of his pockets. "Wait!" He cried out. "These aren't mine!"
- Would have a photo album of you both every time you went on any kind of adventure, all the pictures would be shitty and kind of blurred, but it’s definitely the thought that counts!!
ERM AND I THINKS THATS ALL FOR NOW. I MIGHT WRITE ANOTHER HEADCANON THINGY FOR HIM ANOTHER TIME IF YOU GUYS WANT!!
Tags: @taesy-miranda-lee @stefnarda
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na0koz · 3 days ago
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Moving in with jinx hcs? Like imagine how fucking insane she’d be getting to be around you 24/7 365
mention of name carving (sh)
lmfaooo omg she’d be like triple crazy.
toxic!jinx masterlist
- jinx following you would tone down a bit. every time you go out she’d just come with you. but if it was something she couldn’t tag along to, like meeting a friend or work or something, she’d still follow you. she’d just make sure to be home before you so you don’t get suspicious.
- the first few days weeks of you moving in with her she was just so excited to have you with her. literally clinging to you the whole time, trailing after you everywhere.
- you peeling her off you before you go to the bathroom. jinx whining outside the door about how she misses you until you come out.
- when you first arrived, her kitchen was coincidentally stocked with every single one of your favourite foods, only a few of which you’d actually told her about. jinx acts like they’re her favourites too to explain why she has them but the truth is, she can’t stomach most of them and she’s the most picky eater there is.
- she’ll literally buy you a new house if you don’t like a single aspect of hers. if you find her bed uncomfortable she’ll buy a new mattress, whatever. she wants you to want to stay.
- gets you gifts like every week. could have bought you something nice or made you something, even just a nice shaped rock that she thought you’d like.
- sometimes jinx thinks she’s dreamt your entire relationship. she can’t really believe she’s managed to bag someone like you and sometimes you catch her pinching or slapping herself, trying to see if this is all real or not.
- in all honesty i think she’s carved your name into her skin at least once. she really makes an effort for you not to see and it’s basically the only time she’s not clinging to you, because she knows you will definitely figure out how crazy she is if you do see.
- i’m pretty sure she has bpd? (like in the show) so she will freak the fuck out if you say something or act in a way that makes her think you’re mad at her or don’t like her anymore. locks herself in the bathroom for hours until you coax her out.
- she’s grateful for you being there to look after her when she gets depressed too. before you lived together, she would sometimes disappear for days at a time but now you’re there to help her feel better.
- sometimes jinx lets you choose what she wears that day. she wants to look as pretty as she can be and she thinks you’ll find her prettier if you choose her outfit (you find her pretty either way but you won’t tell her that).
- sleeps with her make up on. one time you cleaned it off for her, wiping the smudged purple and black shadow off her eyes. she was awake but she let you do it. now she sleeps with her eye makeup still on on purpose so you’ll clean it off. no matter how many times you tell her not to.
- has a piece of your hair in a jar that she cut off in your sleep. maybe even has it braided with a lock of her own hair she cut off especially.
- watches you sleep most nights. she barely sleeps yet is somehow full of energy all the time. no one knows how she does it. you catch her ‘resting her eyes’ sometimes but you’ve only seen her actually sleeping in bed at night like once or twice.
- is a bit weird about laundry. she’s volunteered for it to be her job to “take it off your hands” but behind the kind act, you fail to notice that a couple of items of your clothing take a little longer to return. panties (obviously), shirts, anything. anything with your smell on she’ll take and do whatever with while you’re out of the house.
- she has a lot of jewellery and lets you wear it as another way of claiming you.
- the only problem with you living with her is that she has to hide all of the stuff she’s taken from you in the past, the pictures of you and the notebooks filled with your every move to somewhere you definitely won’t find them. she absolutely cannot have you finding them. maybe she keeps them in your old apartment using the key she made for it. hopefully you don’t have a reason to go back there.
- all in all i think she’d be good to live with. she knows everything you like and will literally do anything for you.
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Text
Very succinctly put (and holy shit, when it's all laid out like that, it's REALLY obvious how badly everything has been fumbled) I saw an ask answer somewhere where someone was speculating that the mess of 8a was them trying to hurriedly cram everything they wanted to do in 7b in, as well as the season 8 storylines, and that kiiiiiinda makes sense (but still doesn't explain Brad, lol)
I'm just so disappointed that literally EVERYTHING I love about this show has been mostly absent this season. Like, yeah, I'm upset about the way they handled BuckTommy, but that wouldn't have been a deal breaker for me...but they're not giving me anything else to spark joy! Madney is just...there. HenRen had one juicy almost-storyline, Bathena are being CRIMINALLY wasted, Eddie is...*makes vague 'whatever that all is' gesture*
Like someone previous said in the tags, my comfort show isn't comforting!
I dunno...like I see how they CAN right the ship with the remaining episodes, but the more pertinent question is WILL they.
I'm still so disappointed with 911. Like yes, seaon 7 was messy, but the opening disaster was great and they got a few really interesting storylines rolling despite the very difficult circumstances.
But then they got renewed really early. The conditions were lining up perfectly, everything was falling into place. And yet season 8(a) is so much worse than season 7. Just look at where we left the characters in season 7 and where they are now.
Hen (and by extension Karen) was stuck with the custody battle storyline again, but for the first time there was an antagonist involved who had not only a personal vendetta but also the power to exact her revenge on a big scale while at the same time the very same conflict also had the potential to drive a huge wedge between Hen and Chim while they try to work out their weird patchwork situation.
But all of that got resolved in a single episode that also somehow had to fit random calls, Eddie's C-plot, their weird obsession with Hotshots and whatever Bobby and Gerrard had going on. And then this very personal vendetta between Hen and Ortiz wasn't even ended by them. It wasn't Ortiz giving up / forgiving Hen or Hen defeating Ortiz fair and square, no. Bobby and Gerrard who have never even had a scene with Mara got to safe the day. And then neither Ortiz nor this storyline ever get mentioned again.
Bobby lost his job, had a major health crisis, was borderline suicidal and lost his house last season.
Then we meet him in season 8 and he's just okay, mentally and physically, he gets his job back very conveniently automatically in one swoop together with Ortiz being dealt with. The rebuilding of the house is mentioned in one episode and never again.
Athena was really worried about Bobby by the end of season 7, her son moved back in with her after having spend the last couple of years at his dad's, she also lost her home and she once again went rogue as a cop.
In season 8 she's no longer worried about Bobby, everything is okay, there are no consequences for her actions job-wise, as I said the house thing isn't really talked about and Harry? Nobody knows what happened to him.
Eddie had the whole Shannon-Marisol-Kim thing blow up in his face with huge consequences. I expected him to go back to therapy, to maybe argue with his parents, to talk to Buck or Hen about losing Christopher like this, to maybe spiral a little and finally unpack the Shannon trauma.
Instead he mentions every now and then how his son is in El Paso right now, but doesn't really get into it, he lives his everyday life as per usual, doesn't seem particularly down or stressed tbh, he doesn't go to therapy, he doesn't talk about Shannon, he doesn't talk to his parents outside of one small exposition scene in 8x01, doesn't try to talk to Christopher about what happened. Instead he talks to a priest once which has the amazing effect that he dances in his house in his underwear once. I'm sure that fixed him. Oh, also he may be uprooting his life again without talking to anyone about it. Okay.
Are Chimney and Maddie even still main characters at this point? Sure, they have a lot of screentime and they had their wedding episode last season. They also temporarily took in Mara.
But despite fostering Mara, they had nothing at all to do with the little Ortiz related drama we got. They were just. There. In the background of a few scenes. I guess. We also don't see them adjusting to being married now or talk about what the future might hold for them now. They just accidentally got pregnant AGAIN and didn't really talk about the risks and implications and so on here either. It was brought up very briefly, but there was so much potential for actual discussion there instead of a one-off conversation.
Buck's the only one whose season 7 storyline really got picked up again a little. He discovered he's not straight and got himself a boyfriend last season.
They (briefly) showed us how that relationship continued - and then very abruptly ended in a very strange way. But once again they didn't pick up the queer topic. They treated Tommy like they would any other love interest which would be fine if Buck's sexuality was already established. But as a matter of fact it is not. Buck only recently discovered he's queer and we haven't seen any of the stuff that usually comes with the package. Are the Buckley parents okay with this? Has Buck chosen a label? Did he and Hen ever share a moment of solidarity? Was dating another man all of the sudden a big adjustment?
I fell in love with 911 because they had great characters, but right now the show is doing fuck all with those characters. They're all running in circles and even worse maybe, the characters feel less connected to each other than ever. Like. I'll keep up with the show via tumblr osmosis, but the show didn't deliver on a single thing in 8a. They literally did nothing right.
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tired-truffle · 2 days ago
Text
Even the Gods Cry For Us
A Viktorxfem!reader fic
Chapter Word Count: 4.6k
Part 12/17
Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)
"You love him despite the burden of Atlas resting on his shoulders, and he loves you despite the death still clinging to your lips, and the blood drying at its corners. What a pair you make." - The greatest lovers in hell // L.H.Z
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Masterlist
Husk greeted you at the entrance, surprise in the raise of his brows as he realized who approached so late at night. You’d waved, giving him a small smile, before slipping past him and into the quiet commune. Darkness had descended, and most had gone to bed as you traversed through the sleepy streets on your way towards your room. 
The sharp trill of anxiety flickered at the back of your throat, the floating sparks pulsing sporadically. How were you supposed to explain this to Viktor? It wasn’t like he was your minder, but disappearing with nothing more than a note hadn’t been the kindest option. You also hadn’t been in your right mind, to be fair, but that didn’t make it feel any better. 
You’d hoped to sneak into the safety of your room without incident, but as you entered the spherical building, you were only given seconds to prepare before you were swept into awaiting arms, pulled tight against soft robes and the hard planes of Viktor’s chest. Pine and a metallic tang surrounded you, lulling you into a state of calm as you leaned against him, using the last of your strength to keep your knees from buckling. 
His breath tickled the top of your head as he buried his face in your hair, sighing like years of strife had rolled off his shoulders. Had he always been that tall, or had the enhancements added height? 
“Please, do not do that again, miláčku.” Muffled as his words were, you didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice.
“I won’t,” you said, equally as muffled. 
With great effort, Viktor pulled himself away, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly as he held you at arm's length. His eyes were bloodshot and swimming with concern for you, terrified for your safety. Guilt reared its ugly head, making your gut roil and your palms clammy. Your sparks migrated slowly towards him, buzzing happily as they bobbed. 
“Are you angry with me?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
His nostrils flared and he tightened his grip on your shoulders. “Furious,” he said and you blanched, unsure of how to respond other than to get on your knees and beg his forgiveness. But this was Viktor and he had no interest in grovelling. “Though I am grateful to see you returned more than anything else. I…worried I’d lost you. Whatever anger I feel will fade, but I will never feel anything other than relieved that you have returned home.”
You sucked both lips between your teeth, gaze trained on the floor. An ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it so you didn’t say it - nor would it be entirely sincere. You’d accomplished what you’d set out to do, and while the way you’d gone about it had been incredibly foolish and dangerous, at least it had worked.
“Something is…” he tilted his head to the side, “different about you.”
“Nothing bad.” You placed your hand on his elbow, slowly easing it from its locked position. Your gaze flickered to the sparks, and Viktor followed, understanding dawning across his features. 
Holding out a hand, a spark floated down to perch on his palm, trilling as it nuzzled against him. “How did you do this?” he asked, the light blue glow reflecting in his iridescent eyes. 
You grimaced, chuckling nervously as he raised an eyebrow. “That’s a great question,” you shuffled your feet, “and I’d be more than happy to fill you in, but maybe not right now? I’d like to lie down, it’s been…taxing.” 
His expression softened and he nodded. “Of course,” he breathed, placing the spark gently on your shoulder, his fingertips trailing down your cheek. Whatever words or actions he had been about to share were abruptly cut off by the sound of angry footsteps approaching from behind you, accompanied by Charlotte's sharp voice ringing out in barely restrained fury. 
“Disappearing with only a vague note, gone for an entire day, and showing up without so much as a hello!” Your shoulders tensed, curling inwards like a child being reprimanded by a school teacher. The kernel of mirth in Viktor’s eyes had you scowling at him. 
You ducked your head and turned, facing Charlotte as she made her way towards the building, stomping as she did so, thin lips twisted into a glower. 
“You could have been dead for all we knew!” she continued at the same volume. “Not even a hint as to where you were or what you were doing, scaring me within an inch of my life, what were you thinking?” 
“Charlotte—“ you tried, your palms instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but she brushed them away with a sharp slap. Before you could react, she wrapped her arms around you in a fiercely tight hug, pulling you close and squeezing with enough force to puff the air from your lungs.
Shocked into stillness, your hands hovered over her, hesitating until Charlotte grumbled, “Don’t just stand there, you silly girl, hug me back already.” 
With a breathy laugh, you did as instructed, tucking the older woman in against you. 
When she released you from her iron grip, her weathered hands cupped your face as she examined you closely. Her eyes widened as she took in the faint bruises and scrapes that marred your skin, remnants of your encounter with the enforcers. Thankfully, she couldn’t see the blood at the back of your head and crusted in your hair, or what was sure to be a nasty laceration. Whoever had hit you hadn’t pulled their swing.
"What happened to you?" she demanded, her tone softening with concern.
You winced, both from the memory and the ache that lingered. "It's a long story," you said wearily. "I promise I'll explain everything tomorrow, but I don’t think I have the brain power for it right now."
Charlotte frowned, but she nodded reluctantly. "Alright, but don't think you're getting out of this conversation. I expect a full explanation in the morning, young lady."
As she turned to leave, Charlotte shot Viktor a pointed look. "Make sure she gets some proper rest, you hear me?"
Viktor nodded solemnly, though that glimmer of mirth remained. "Of course, Charlotte. You have my word."
With a final huff, Charlotte departed, her footsteps fading into the night. You let out a long exhale, feeling the tension slowly seep from your shoulders. Viktor's hand found yours, his long fingers interlacing with your own.
"Come," he said softly, tugging you along with him.
Together, you made your way to the bedroom. The bed, piled high with mismatched blankets and pillows, called to you like a lighthouse beacon in the dark. You sank onto the edge, sighing as the soft mattress cradled your aching body.
Viktor knelt before you, searching your face intently. His fingers ghosted over the marks left by the enforcers and though he barely touched them, the memory alone made you wince. "Let me tend to these," he said, rising to fetch a first aid kit.
You nodded, too exhausted to protest. Viktor moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies and returning to kneel before you.
His touch was feather-light as he cleaned each scrape and bruise, the cool cloth soothing against your heated skin. You watched him, mesmerized by the gentle furrow of his brow, the way his lips pressed together in concentration. The sparks that had been hovering around you settled on his shoulders, their soft blue light complimenting his pale skin.
He’d insisted that having a first aid kit would come in handy, given your penchant for injury and his inability to use his powers to heal you. You hadn’t argued, fully aware of your own shortcomings, and also knowing that it would give him a sense of comfort - that even though your Shimmer blocked any attempts at using Hexcore fuelled healing methods, he could still do something to care for your wounds.
When he finished, Viktor's hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with concern, relief, and something deeper that made your heart skip a beat - longing and love, perhaps.
Viktor's hand moved to cup the back of your head, but you flinched away with a sharp "Ouch!" His eyes widened in alarm, fingers hovering uncertainly near your hair.
"Why didn't you tell me you were injured there?" he asked, voice tight with worry.
You grimaced, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't want to stress you out further. I think I’ve done enough of that for one day. Look, you’re already going grey.” Pinching the ends of his hair in between your fingers, you tried for a joke meant to lighten the mood, but it fell flat.
He made a soft "tch" sound, shaking his head. "Miláčku, your well-being is my primary concern. Come, let me examine it properly."
Viktor gently took your hand, leading you to the wash basin in the corner. With practiced movements, he pumped water into the bowl and activated the small heating element beneath it. Steam began to rise from the surface as the water warmed.
"Lean forward," he instructed gently, one hand on your back to steady you as you bent over the basin. Viktor's fingers were impossibly gentle as they parted your hair, carefully examining the wound hidden beneath. You heard his sharp intake of breath and winced, imagining how it must look.
Warm water trickled over your scalp as Viktor began to rinse away the dried blood, the basin slowly becoming tinged pink. His touch was methodical yet tender, each movement calculated to cause you as little discomfort as possible.
"It doesn't appear to need stitches," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "But we'll need to keep it clean to prevent infection."
You hummed in acknowledgment, eyes closed as you focused on the soothing sensation of his fingers massaging your scalp. The sparks that had been hovering nearby drifted closer, their soft blue light reflecting off the water's surface.
When he finished rinsing, Viktor patted your hair dry with a small towel. You straightened, blinking away the droplets that clung to your eyelashes. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he studied you intently.
"Wait here," he said, releasing you to rummage through the first aid supplies once more. He returned with a small jar of antibacterial cream, unscrewing the lid as he approached.
Viktor's breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in close behind you, carefully applying the cream to the wound. You shivered, not entirely from the coolness of the ointment.
"There," he said softly, his lips nearly brushing your ear. "That should help prevent any infection." His hands lingered on your shoulders, and you could feel the tension thrumming through him - the desire to pull you close warring with his need to be gentle, to avoid causing you further pain.
You turned to face him, your noses nearly touching. "Thank you," you whispered.
Viktor's eyes flickered to your mouth, his lips parting as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, chaste, a gentle press of his lips against yours that sent heat cascading through your body. It was over too soon, leaving you yearning for more, but Viktor pulled away with a small smile.
“You need rest," he said, and you couldn’t agree more.
With gentle hands, Viktor helped you lie back on the bed, tucking the blankets around you. The mattress dipped as he sat beside you, his fingers brushing over your damp hair - careful to avoid the injury - in a soothing gesture. The sparks settled on the pillows around your head, their soft trills a lullaby in the quiet room.
“I don’t know how Charlotte sniffed me out like a hunting dog,” you said into the dark, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Ah, yes,” Viktor said, gaze fixed on the uppermost corner of the ceiling. “It was less sniffing and more the concern that if I did not tell her of your arrival, I would lose my head.” 
“You told her?” You crinkled your nose, narrowing your eyes at him. “When did you have time to do that?” 
His gaze flickered back to you, his lips scrunched and pulled to the side. “Telepathically, it’s simple to do while multitasking.” 
Exhausted barely covered what you were feeling, but you were sure your ears hadn’t deceived you. 
“Is that like…what you do when you, uh, borrow their bodies?” 
He tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Eh, in a way. I’m connected to all those I’ve healed, and whether it is borrowing their bodies, as you put it, or communicating, it all stems from that same connection.” 
“Have you ever…” you pressed your lips into a thin line. “Have you ever possessed Charlotte?”
“It’s not possession,” he said with a wry curve to his lips. 
You huffed, waving your hand. “You know what I mean.”
Regarding you for a long moment, he said, “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just…” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m trying to understand. It’s such a foreign concept, and maybe I’ll never truly get it, but I’d like to try. I want to know what you’re experiencing if you want to share it.” 
For a moment, so brief you almost missed it, his eyes solidified into amber, startling in its intensity. And then it was gone like mist in the early morning sun, lost among the myriad of colours swirling in his irises. 
“I would like that.”
When Viktor told you that morning that he had a surprise he wanted to show you, curiosity had taken hold, only to be strangled when he told you it would have to wait until the evening. 
You’d spent the day following Charlotte around, the woman unwilling to let you out of her sight. Now that your magic was more manageable, you were no longer a threat to those around you. And while you still caught glimpses of those eerie metal masks on the members of the commune, it never lasted long, and with a calm mind, you were able to push past it. The sense of unease that had dogged your steps prickled at the edge of your awareness, but did not tug and claw at your skin like fishing hooks pulling on their prize. 
While you’d been preoccupied with your unravelling mind, Viktor had been able to increase his capacity for healing, and rarely was there ever a newcomer who was not immediately seen. They no longer needed your pain relief, and Charlotte was determined to find another task for you - and introduce you to the new members. 
Serenity exuded from each person Charlotte greeted, like they knew a sort of peace that only existed in one’s dreams. Yet, when you came close, a glimmer of buoyancy would return to their pleasant but placid gazes. 
Strange, but you didn’t have time to examine it thoroughly as Charlotte swept you from person to person. She had you trying all sorts of different occupations, metalwork, knitting, cooking, but if you had any skill at all, your magic flares - as small as they may be - ruined the delicate craft. 
At the end of the day, you had nothing but sore shoulders to show for all your hard work, and a slightly exasperated Charlotte. 
“At least take this,” she’d said, handing you neatly folded fabric. You’d accepted, running your hands over the soft material as you unfurled it. 
A simple off-white, pleated skirt, made by her own hands. A gift, she’d told you, for any special occasions. Her wink had been enough to bring a blush to your cheeks, and she’d given you no time to recover as she shooed you into an unoccupied tent to try it on. 
It flowed smoothly over your thighs, starting beneath your belly button and coming to rest just below your knees. While you’d taken to covering your scars out of fear of other’s reactions - the paler and patchy flesh another reminder of the night you’d almost lost everything - you couldn’t resist how nice it felt to have the fresh air hit your skin. 
As evening fell, you made your way back to the spherical building, the skirt swishing pleasantly around your legs. The commune had quieted, the bustling activity of the day giving way to a peaceful hush.
You entered the building, expecting to find Viktor waiting for you. Instead, you were greeted by an unexpected sight that had you pulling up short.
Viktor was suspended, floating in midair, his body wreathed in a web of wires and cables. They swam languidly around him like luminous vines, glowing with a distorted blue and pink light. His eyes were closed, face set in deep concentration, and he seemed oblivious to your presence - though you doubted that was the case.
"Viktor?" you called out. "What are you doing?"
His eyes fluttered open, iridescent irises focusing on you. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Working," he replied simply, as if floating in a swirl of wires was the most natural thing in the world.
You rolled your eyes, a fond smile spread across your face. "I can see that. Care to elaborate?"
Viktor's forehead pinched slightly, trying to find the right words. "I'm…integrating with the building's systems. Expanding my connection to the commune."
You nodded, pretending to understand even though you were still utterly bewildered. The sparks seemed drawn to Viktor, floating lazily towards him before bouncing off an invisible barrier.
"How long will this, uh, work take?" you asked, glancing around for somewhere to sit.
Viktor's eyes glazed over for a moment, as if consulting some internal clock. "A while yet. You're welcome to stay, if you'd like."
"I'll wait," you said, sliding down the wall to sit. "After all, you promised me a surprise."
Viktor's smile widened slightly before his eyes drifted closed again, his focus returning to whatever mysterious task he was performing.
You leaned back, and as you waited, you let your mind wander. So much had changed in such a short time, and yet, sitting there in that strange room, you felt an unexpected sense of peace. You had your magic under control, Viktor was alive and well, and you had a community that accepted you for who you were. If only you could find out what happened to that little girl from the rally too, then you may be able to relax fully.
Though your peace only lasted so long, and after a few hours of sitting there, you’d begun to reach your limit. Your backside ached from the hard ground and your impatience had reached new levels, your irritation spiking with it.
“The suspense is killing me,” you groaned, flopping your arms dramatically. 
“All in good time, Milá.” Viktor grinned impishly and you glared at him. He was enjoying this, revenge for your sudden departure. It was the least that you deserved, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. 
You grumbled under your breath, shifting uncomfortably on the hard floor. "A little hint wouldn't kill you, you know."
Viktor's eyes crinkled at the corners, but he remained suspended in his glowing wires. "Patience is a virtue."
"So is mercy." You scowled, but settled back against the wall, resigning yourself to wait.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the wires began to retract. Viktor descended slowly, his feet touching the ground with a gentle grace. He stretched, working out the stiffness in his muscles, before turning to you.
"Ready?" he asked, extending his hand.
You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. "I've been ready for hours," you said dryly, but couldn't keep the excitement from sparkling in your eyes.
Viktor led you out of the building and into the night. The commune was quiet, most of its inhabitants asleep.
As you rounded a corner, your breath caught in your throat. Before you stood a structure that seemed to glow in the moonlight - a greenhouse made of glass and metal. Its crystalline windows reflected the stars, creating a shimmering, ethereal effect.
Viktor squeezed your hand gently. "Shall we?"
He guided you to the entrance, pushing open a delicate glass door. As you stepped inside, the warm and humid air hit you, balmy like a beach vacation. Lush foliage filled every corner, from delicate magnolias to towering palms. Vines climbed up trellises, their flowers glowing faintly in the dim light. Everywhere you looked, there was life.
“Viktor, this is beautiful,” you said, eyes wide with awe. “Did you do this?” 
He shrugged. “I had help.” 
“Modest, as always.” Locking your arm around his, you pulled him further in.
Exotic orchids hung from the ceiling, their petals a riot of colours - vibrant purples, fiery oranges, and deep crimsons. Their heady perfume mingled with the earthy scent of moss and rich soil. To your left, a small stream trickled over smooth river rocks, feeding into a pond where lily pads floated lazily on the surface. And at the end of it all, tucked in the back behind a monstrous fern, sat a secluded bench, perfect for admiring the scenery.
“Was there a reason you made all this or was it just for fun?” A spark drifted from your pocket, heading lazily towards a budding flower like a strangely coloured bumble bee. 
With a gentle nudge, he turned you to face him, lithe fingers drawing little circles across your palm. “There is so much of this commune I would like to share with you, but until you stabilized your magic, I did not see a way how.” 
Head bowed, he turned your hand over, exposing your inner wrist and the faint pink veins visible beneath. “I couldn’t remove the Shimmer that I put there, and you were suffering. I could help all these people, except for the one that I love most.” 
“We talked about this.” Hooking your finger beneath his chin, you brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I don’t expect or need you to solve this.” 
He smiled, melancholy falling across his sharp features like droplets of rain. “I remember, but I couldn’t do nothing. I wanted you to have a place you could go to outside of our room, somewhere you could feel safe and be alone. I thought plants may do the trick.” 
Your jaw slackened, incredulousness to the wide set of your eyes. “You built this for me?”
“That is what I said, isn’t it?” He was teasing you now, but you barely registered it.
Launching yourself into his arms, you kissed him fiercely, pressing all your gratitude and affection into the slant of your lips against his. Viktor stumbled back a few steps step, caught off guard, but he quickly regained his balance, hands instinctively reaching out to steady you.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, Viktor stared at you, his usually pale cheeks flushed a light pink.
"I take it you like the greenhouse," he said, his voice slightly husky.
“You built this place so I’d have somewhere to lose my mind in peace?” You held his face in your hands, the sparks circling around you both like a halo. “That sounds like something only a besotted fool would do.” 
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours, a pleasant vibration that had goosebumps rising along your arms. “Guilty as charged.” 
Viktor leaned in, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was different from the first - softer, slower, like you had all the time in the world. His hands cradled your cheeks, thumbs brushing gently across your skin as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in the soft fabric of his robes.
But with reluctance, he pulled back.
“There is something else I should share with you. Though it is not necessarily as exciting of a reveal.” He pressed his lips into a flat line and tugged you towards the secluded bench. 
Sitting beside him, you waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts, his neck bent and head ducked. He held your hands in his, resting on his lap, his thumbs ghosting over the dexterous tendons. 
“I apologize for not telling you earlier, but it wasn’t until your disappearance that I knew for sure.” 
You cringed, guilt and worry churning in your gut like you’d swallowed a jug of acid. “A little ominous there, Viktor.” You chuckled warily. “Is everything okay?” 
He looked up at you then, lips parting as he took in the concerned tilt of your mouth and the tightness in your jaw. “It is now,” he said softly, his barely there smile settling your unease. 
Scooting closer, your hips pressed side-by-side, he said, “It would seem that when I’m not in your presence, my emotions are muted. It is difficult to explain. They are still there, but buried beneath a serenity that does not feel entirely my own.” 
Your forehead creased and you bit the inside of your cheek. “You think my magic, what, heightens your feelings?” 
“Your magic, or perhaps just you, it ‘s hard to say.” And perhaps sweeter than he realized, that he would even consider the notion that it was simply you that made him feel again. “Though it isn’t a heightening, it ‘s more like reversing the dampening that comes with my enhancements.” 
You didn’t love the sound of that, but you had no idea what to do about it - other than stay with him at all times, though not a practical solution. “Does it upset you?” 
“It is rather numbing, so no, it does not,” he answered plainly. 
“No, that’s not what I meant.” You squeezed his hands, struggling to find the words to express yourself. “Does me returning your feelings back to how they were bother you? I just,” you exhaled, shaking your head, “I know what it’s like for emotions to take over and be overwhelming, I don’t want you to have to suffer through that.” 
“Milá, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Viktor spoke with such seriousness you found yourself nodding before you had fully processed what he’d said. “I am not suffering through loving you. You bring me more joy than I would have ever believed possible. I don’t simply need you, I want you.” 
You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes stinging as you blinked back the tears. “Oh,” you laughed shakily, “is that all?” 
Bringing your hands to his lips and placing kisses across your fingers, he said, “No, but I do not have the vocabulary to express it.” 
Neither did you so you didn’t try, and instead, you kissed Viktor with reverence. Your lips moved against his with deliberate slowness, savouring each point of contact. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours as you traced the curve of his bottom lip with your tongue. Viktor's hands came up to cradle your face, his long fingers grasping the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.
You were the dawn breaking over a world shrouded in darkness, your light chasing away the shadows that had long haunted Viktor's existence. He was the moon, constant and mesmerizing, guiding you through the tumultuous night of your journey. Together, you created an eclipse, two celestial bodies woven together - your magic and his.
Your kisses were stardust, scattering across Viktor's skin and leaving constellations in their wake. His touch was gravity, anchoring you to that moment, that place, that feeling of belonging. You breathed each other in like oxygen, necessary and life-giving.
You were made for each other, and you would stop at nothing to show him exactly what he meant to you.
Smut Chapter
Next Chapter
A/N: Aaaaand we’re onto the second smut chapter! If you’d like to read it, it will be in the companion fic ‘Inarticulation’ (Part 2) by tomorrow at the latest - and I will add the link here when its been posted.
I hope you enjoyed their little date night <3 We are getting into the end game now!
39 notes · View notes
thehypnone · 3 days ago
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Symbol on the Surface Chapter 16
WC: 1,4k
Relationship: SwissAlps
Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Fluff, Humor
“Ugh,” Swiss groans as he wakes up. “I think our babies hate me.” “Are they kicking?” Mountain asks and tries not to sound happy about it.
Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for huge help on this one. There wouldn't be anything to post today without him :3 For the same reason I apologize for low quality of this chapter.
Chapter 1 here or on AO3.
Read chapter 16 under the cut or on AO3.
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Swiss is stuck. 
He was left alone for five minutes—Mountain went to only grab some food—and managed to get himself stuck. The corner of his weighted blanket fell off the edge of the bed and was pulling the entire nest down, so Swiss attempted to haul it up, but he discovered soon enough that he simply can’t pull himself up from a lying position.
The multi ghoul starts laughing hysterically, feeling like a beetle stuck on his back.
Before Mountain comes back with a look of pure confusion painted on his face, Swiss is laughing even harder. It’s a good couple minutes before he can somewhat calm down enough to breathe and explain his current predicament to his mate.
“I was–was trying to get the fucking–the blanket,” he wheezes. “And I got fucking–stuck, and then–then I was laughing and it…I pissed myself.”
“You–you pissed yourself?” Mountain repeats, stunned. He has no idea how to react. “From laughing. Because you got stuck?”
“You bet your ass I did!” Swiss bursts out laughing again and tries to speak some more through it, but it only makes him giggle more. “I’ll–I’m gonna clean up, but, Lucifer, give me a minute.”
The earth ghoul does, standing over him with two plates with food in his hands and starting to laugh under his breath, too. It is quite funny—and even more so that Swiss isn’t upset about peeing in their nest, but even more amused, instead.
When the multi ghoul can finally breathe and speak without yet another fit of maniacal laughter interrupting him, Mountain helps get him up and into the bathroom so he can clean himself up while his mate strips the bed. That’s when Swiss fully realizes that he peed their bed and starts apologizing with a deep blush dusting his cheeks.
Mountain assures him it’s nothing. He didn’t even wet the mattress because with how much freaky sex they have, there’s always a waterproof layer between it and the mattress. It comes in handy for many reasons, it appears.
Thanks to that the bed is freshly made in no time at all and Swiss’ accident is forgotten about. Well, at least until he brings it up to laugh about it again.
When the multi ghoul is about to get into the bed again, he groans, “No, I need to get out of here, I feel like I’m losing my mind, Mounty.”
“Well, the food got cold anyway,” the other shrugs, “so I guess we can move to the commons for a while and I’ll heat it back up.”
“Thank Lucifer,” Swiss sighs in relief and turns to the door. “Can you take my laptop with us? I wanted to look for some more cute clothes.”
“For you or the kits?” Mountain teases, raising an eyebrow.
“For the kits, obviously,” Swiss scoffs, then winks, “I look the cutest with no clothes at all.” 
“Okay, sexy mama, let’s get you out of here,” the earth ghoul scoffs. “I’ll get this back to the kitchen and come back for you. And your laptop.”
Swiss nods and then his mate disappears, but for barely a minute. When he’s back he puts a gentle hand on the multi ghoul’s back and leads him out of their bedroom. It’s barely a trip to the commons, but it is quite a challenge for Swiss, now. Mountain is patient, though, and lets his mate lean on him however much he needs, and doesn’t mind him panting in his ear.
When they make it to the common room, Swiss all but collapses onto the softest of the couches. Mountain waits for him to settle before joining him, but it seems not to be working too well.
“Do you need any help, my heart?” he asks.
“Nah, I just need to–” Swiss groans, “get comfy.”
“Take your time, I’ll get the food.” He does, and when he comes back with it Swiss is sitting with the laptop already open and set on his stomach as if it’s a table—he looks particularly pleased with himself about it. Mountain shakes his head before taking the device from him and replacing it with the plateful of pasta.
It disappears in no time at all and the top of Swiss’ bump gets occupied by his laptop once again. He pulls up a store selling all kinds of baby stuff—that they got gift cards to spend in for Christmas—and starts browsing.
Mountain joins him and they end up getting way too much baby clothes, but they suppose the gift cards can’t be wasted, so they don’t feel too bad about that. It’s when Swiss hits the ‘place order’ button that he lets out a huge yawn.
“Tired?” Mountain asks.
“Growing babies is nearly as exhausting as making them.” Swiss grins at the other suggestively, making him snort.
“I guess I can believe that,” he says. “You can lay back against me and take a nap, hm?”
The multi ghoul nods and leans in to give Mountain a kiss first, before leaning more into him and closing his eyes. His mate grabs a book from the coffee table and opens it to keep himself somewhat busy.
He doesn’t check the time, so he doesn’t know how many minutes pass before Swiss is snoring against his shoulder—but it’s not much. Unfortunately the nap itself doesn’t last long, either.
“Ugh,” Swiss groans as he wakes up. “I think our babies hate me.”
“Are they kicking?” Mountain asks and tries not to sound happy about it.
“Uh-huh,” the multi ghoul grabs his mate’s hand and drags it to his stomach, “Feel.”
Mountain’s jaw all but drops when he immediately feels a mighty kick against his palm. He can’t help but smile, then, because that’s his baby. Though on the  other hand, they’re hurting his mate.
“That feels like it hurts like hell,” he mutters.
“Indeed it does,” Swiss sighs, “but I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Do you want to stay here or go back to bed?”
“Here, you can keep reading, I’ll just…sit here with you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
And so Mountain keeps reading and Swiss keeps sitting by his side—for a while. At some point the multi ghoul figures out something that keeps his kits from torturing his insides. Not much later, Mountain’s nose twitches when he smells someone approaching. Rain.
Even though the earth ghoul’s protective instincts are still making him all but feral, he’s managed to control himself properly, now—so he only wraps his tail tighter around his mate.
“Uh…hi?” Rain greets them with confusion evident on his face and in his voice. “Swiss, what are you…you good?”
“Yes. I am staring.”
“You’re…staring?”
“Yes,” Swiss grunts, “these little fuckers don’t kick when I’m starin’ them down, but the moment I look away they’re punching my guts like it’s a competition!”
Rain looks over at Mountain for guidance, he supposes, and tries not to laugh. The earth ghoul only shrugs and flips a page of his book.
“Well, uh…I wanted to ask if you wanted to help me with some music, but it seems you’re busy,” Rain says, chuckling. 
“Ugh, I’d love to,” Swiss admits, “but it’s so much moving, princess. Don’t think I can, sorry.”
“That’s okay! I’ll ask Aeon unless…if you want I can bring my stuff here? And if Mounty doesn’t mind,” Rain offers and it makes the multi ghoul’s entire face light up.
“Please,” he all but begs.
“Maybe the kits will calm down to the music, too,” Mountain adds and–
“Oh, I really fucking hope so,” Swiss groans, making the other two chuckle.
“Alright, then,” Rain says with a smile, “I’ll be right back.”
When he does come back he has his bass and Swiss’ acoustic—even though he can’t really play it—with him. Mountain keeps reading to the side of the couch as the water and multi ghouls do their thing.
And if Mountain looks over his book every few minutes and smiles to himself about how his mate is having fun, doing something he loves again, that’s his secret.
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Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus @ghoultrifle (if anyone from here wants to be removed lmk, and also if anyone else wants to be added)
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bullet-prooflove · 3 days ago
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Christmas Bingo Card 2024: Snow - Colter Shaw x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @inlovewithcharmers @mckinleysbones @rex-the-dino @ahoodgirl
Companion piece to:
Stay (NSFW) - Colter can never ask for you to stay.
The Maybe Girl (NSFW) - Colter makes a mistake by revealing his feelings for you.
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It snows that night. Colter watches it fall through the windows of the Airstream as you sleep safely nestled into the confines of his chest. His fingers stroke through your hair, still damp from the shower you’d taken together earlier. He’d been surprised when you climbed into bed with him. He’d expected you to redress, to leave the same way you always do but you hadn’t.
Instead you’d pulled on that bobbled old t-shirt of his and laid down on the pillow alongside of him, your legs tangling with his. You hadn’t spoken and neither had he. He’d just held you instead, listened to the sound of your breathing even out as you slipped into sleep.
Something’s changed since the last time he saw you. It’s why you tracked him down all the way to Nebraska. He suspects it has something to do with the work you do, helping people leave cults when they don’t have the means or capability. It’s how the two of you met. He’d been chasing a reward for a missing person and you’d been sheltering them. He’d had no idea what he’d been getting himself into at the time, that the organisation who hired him were trying to get back their accountant before he could turn them into the authorities.
“It’s a death cult.” You’d told him inside a motel room in the middle of Nevada. “They convince their followers that they’ll get to see their loved ones or be free of their mental illness and addictions when they ‘ascent’. To do that you need to cast off your earthly trappings, which means donating your money and assets to the organisation.” You explain as you take a sip from your beer. It’s a local brew, one of the brands that he prefers when he comes out this way.
“Oh.” He says with understanding. “And after that they just…”
He leaves the sentence hanging as he tries to make sense of it all.
“Most of the cult’s money comes from will bequeathals so when they ‘ascend’ property and anything else the members own goes straight to organisation.” You tell him before handing him a manilla folder full of highlighted funds.
“Wow so yea that’s a lot of people ascending.” He’d remarked, running his fingertip down the amounts before he tilts your head upwards you. “Your guy has the evidence to back this up?”
“Doesn’t matter if he does or doesn’t.” You say noncommittedly. “He wanted out so I got him out.”
Because that’s what you do. When people decide they want out, you’re the one they turn to. Sometimes it’s negotiations but mostly it’s covert extractions, ensuring the person gets out safely without recrimination. He’d checked you out after Nevada and your reputation, it proceeds you.
It’s almost two years later in front of a campfire outside his Airstream that he learns why you do what you do. You were in a cult back in New Mexico, you’d escaped in your early twenties. It occurs to him then, the reason why you turned up here tonight.
“You got caught didn’t you?” He whispers against your hairline and you don’t answer. Instead your body curls further into him and you bury your face into the curve of his neck. “Alright, we don’t have to talk about it.”
You’re not ready, not yet at least and that’s ok. It takes time to process to trauma, to vocalise it, to move past it. To do that you need a safe space and for you that’s Colter, it always has been.
 “Nobody knows where we are right now.” He murmurs, his lips brushing over your temple. “It’s just you, me and the wilderness. We can stay here for as long as you need. Does that sound good?”
You nod your head and he holds onto you just a little bit tighter.
“Alright.” He whispers as you start to settle once again. “We’ll just stay right here.”
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valardohaeriss · 10 hours ago
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Picture you 2 - C.S
It's me again...and I'm back. Anyways here we go with part two. just ask if you want to be a part of the tag list.
pairing: Modern Cregan Stark x fem!Reader
warnings: none
"Do you picture me like I picture you?"
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"So tell me about this guy that you want to ask you to formal." Cregan asks as he lays on your bed and throws a ball up at the ceiling. You sat at your desk, distracting yourself with homework, something Cregan should be doing. You closed your eyes at his question, hoping to find a quick lie.
"I mean, he's cool." was all you could squeeze out. Cool? that was it. C'mon, if you were going to lie, you have to think of a better one than that. "Cool?" Cregan asked with a cocked eyebrow as he sat himself up. You could feel his stare in the back of your head. You turned to look at him and threw one arm over the back of the chair. The minute you looked at him, all of the adjectives you needed came to your mind.
"Fine, he's smart, very smart. He doesn't give himself enough credit for it. He's tall, He's kind, even though he probably doesn't think of himself that way. He's the type of person that if you didn't have anything, he'd give you the shirt off of his own back." You said in one breath. It didn't take much for you to describe your feelings for Cregan.
He looked at you, shocked at your feelings. He didn't know you felt this strongly about someone. He didn't even really know you liked people like that. "Wow." was all he could say. You rolled your eyes and turned around. "What's his name?" He asked you.
You clenched the pen in your hand, mentally cursing yourself. "Does it matter?" you asked. "He doesn't feel the same way, I really should just drop it. I'll just go to formal for Baela. It was her idea anyway." you continued on. Cregan threw the ball at your back in a playful manner. "What was that for?" you turned around and asked him. All he could do was chuckle and cross his arms. "We're going to get him to ask you out. You don't know how he feels about you. Trust me, I know guys. He's probably thinking the same thing you are. You just have to talk to him."
Boy he was not making this any easier. If he looked close enough at you, you swore he could have either seen a vein in your head or your eye twitch. "Cregan, please. Drop it. I'll just stick with Baela the whole time."
"You can't stick with Baela, Baela will be with Jace." he stated, and he had a point. How were you going to be looking for the mystery guy, when the mystery guy himself was sitting on your bed. "I know what I'll do," he started. "I'll get Jace to help me out. We'll get you this guy on a date in no time."
You could have thrown up. He was already pulling out his phone to text Jace about it. Now not only did you spin this little lie, you've spun it into a web with people. The only thing was you had no idea how to get out.
Baela...
Yes Baela would help you. She was your ride or die, and surely she'd know what to do.
"Hey, look, I'll see you later. Jace and I are going to meet up. He said something about Baela coming over here anyways so I'll let you have your time with her. But seriously, you should keep me updated on this guy. You won't be single for long." he winks at you and you could have melted.
"Idiot"...you thought. "You smart, handsome, kind man...but what an idiot"
----
"So you mean to tell me... you spun this little lie, and you expect me to help you out of it?" Baela asks you as you just explained your situation with Cregan, that has at this point, gone a little too far. "Baela, please, he plans on getting Jace in on this too and I don't know how to explain that the person they have been looking for this whole time has been Cregan himself." you sighed and cradled your head in your hands.
"You should have just been honest with him. Why weren't you?" she asked, pulling your arms away from you. "Because I know he doesn't feel the same. So I might as well get over it now. I'm trying, but now I'm stuck. I wish I would have just not said anything at all." You groaned. Truly, you wish you would had just said you weren't going to go and everything was fine and left it at that. Then you wouldn't be here. But no, you ran your mouth, getting a bit too comfortable.
"How about, I find out how he actually feels and we ease our way into this. I'll be your actual wingwoman." She smiled at you and for a second, you had hope that this would all be resolved. You could get over Cregan and continue on like nothing ever happened.
---
Baela sat next to Jace and Cregan at the dining hall. Cregan and Jace were having their typical conversations as usual, until Jace had to leave for his next class, that left him and Baela together. Now washer chance to move forward. "Cregan? What's this I hear about you helping y/n get a date to formal?"
Cregan smirked and stopped packing his things. "Yeah, she told me about this guy that she likes, and she must really like him. I mean she smiles every time she talks about him. She just won't tell me what his name is or anything. She thinks he doesn't feel the same, but she said he was going to be at the formal, so I was planning on finding him and talking to him myself. A wingman kind of thing, ya know?" He beamed, proud of his plan.
Baela tried hard not to drop her smile. She could not believe this guy. How could he not know it was him. "How do you feel about that?" She asked him. He hadn't been asked that before and it caused his brows to furrow. "I don't think I'm following?"
"How do you feel knowing that you're helping her find someone else?" Baela smirked. Cregan hadn't thought about it. He was more concerned with helping you be happy than he was his own feelings. He cared about you, and if helping you find someone else made you happy, then he'd do it. "Baela, this isn't about me." He deflected as he started to pack his things.
"Cregan, have you talked to Jace about her? I mean about how you feel about her?" She asked him. He hadn't, he hadn't told anyone. It didn't matter to him, he knew you didn't feel the same way. Clearly, to him, you were on the hunt for someone else. Someone that obviously made you smile bigger than he ever has.
His silence answered Baela's question. "I think you need to talk to her before formal. You have two days. I would do it. Don't let this go on any further." She advised him. Cregan shook his head not taking her advice. To his knowledge, you didn't bat an eye at him. He wasn't going to let his feelings get in the way of your happiness, that would be selfish. That is something he was not.
"I'm serious, Cregan. It's worth the shot." Baela said one last time before leaving for home. Cregan had a lot to think about. Did he tell you how he felt? Did he ruin his friendship with you for the sake of feelings? Did he block your happiness with someone else for the sake of his own? He couldn't. So he wouldn't.
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