#I'm a day behind but here's today's actual scheduled post

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[wip]

A very very minor thing I have been curious about for a while, and I'm finally asking: why do you calculate queue posting times the way you do? For example, if I set my queue to post 3x a day, naively I would expect it to post every 8 hours. But in reality it posts every 6 hours with a 12 hour gap between days. Why complicate the math like that?

Answer: Hello @circumference-pie!

Buckle up y’all, it’s story time again!

First: nobody who works at Tumblr right now was a part of the work of planning the default queue implementation, which was more than ten years ago. So the full story behind “Why does it work that way?” has unfortunately been lost to the sands of time. All we can do is tell you how it works today and surmise some reasons why. The queue is actually a very clever system and part of how it works explains some of why it works the way it does. Also, there have been attempts to do what you ask—we still have “Queue 2.0” available in your Tumblr Labs settings, which tries to get closer to how you expect things to work.

Anyway! How the queue works today is not actually a queue in the traditional sense. There is no single list of posts that are in “your queue”. Instead, when you “Add to queue” after creating a post, we’re actually scheduling it to post at a future time, as if you had used the “Schedule post” option instead. We’re just calculating that time on your behalf when you use “Add to queue”, based on your settings, and how many other scheduled posts you have already. We use a secondary “index” model, called “ScheduledPost”, to keep track of posts you have scheduled on your blog. We do mark the ones that are a part of “your queue”, but the data model doesn’t keep one list of your “queue” per se.

You can see this in action on your blog, hiding in plain sight. If you add a bunch of posts to your queue, and then schedule a post for a specific future date, you’ll see both in your blog’s “queue” list, side by side. Because technically to us, they’re the same thing: queued posts are really just another kind of scheduled post, relying on the same always-running service to publish scheduled posts across all of Tumblr. Here’s a fun fact: we typically have about ~14.5 million future posts to publish from this list at any given time and are publishing hundreds of these scheduled posts every second.

So when you’re adding a new post to your queue, what we’re doing behind the scenes is starting at the beginning of your “day”, and creating time slots based on your queue settings. If a time slot is already filled, we move on to the next one. That’s why the default queue scheduler works how you describe—we’re trying to fill those “slots” based on the start of the day, rather than trying to divide the calendar day evenly. This just makes it much simpler for us to understand, scale, and predict when our “peaks” will be. At peak times, the publish-scheduled-posts service is publishing tens of thousands of posts in a manner of seconds. We did rewrite that post-publishing part of this architecture a few years ago to improve its efficiency and solve a lot of “lost post” bugs, but we didn’t change how “Add to queue” works.

However, the Queue 2.0 project available in Labs was an attempt to change the queue system to work as you expect—instead of starting at [beginning of day] and creating enough slots to fit [number of slots] every [number of hours], it tries to divide the calendar day into [number of slots] and fit the result back to the original algorithm’s mapping of the day. We never productionized this alternative approach, because it has a few bugs that some blogs hit in extreme cases, and we’ve never had time to fully fix them. It also can cause a bit of weirdness when time zones diverge, like with daylight savings time. Also, a lot of people prefer the default algorithm, and we haven’t thought of a nice way to transition everyone from one to the other. So for now, both options exist, and you can choose which algorithm for queue-slot-generating you want to use. We hope that makes sense! 

While complicated, it is a great example of a system built by engineers to make sense and be scalable and predictable. But sometimes these kinds of systems, while clever, aren’t very intuitive to understand without digging into how they work.

Thanks for your question, and keep ’em coming. 

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 1

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

A/N: This has been sat in my drafts for a while coz i was kinda scared to post it, coz its a new reach of people I'm looking for.

It started off with a silly little tweet you'd made in the summer break when you werent racing. You didn't feel like watching old F1 or MotoGP races and there was no movie that immedielty came to mind.

So you scrolled through youtube. At first it was a documentary about the ocean, and you had to switch it out. Which is how you came across a channel called Sam and Colby, two American boys who... well you didn't actually think they had a 'thing:

Your YouTube consisted solely of vlogs and car/bike videos that you did. That was your niche. However these two didn't seem to have a specific niche, you perused them seeing that they vlogged and did challenges and prank video and even back in the day were part of vine.

The most recent things they'd been sticking too by the looks of things were these paranormal investigations. They went to these haunted places with cool gear and filmed the experience. You were very intruiged as the paranormal was something you'd believed in just never interacted with.

After watching them bring people on, and be scared shitless you knew you'd boss something like this.

You were alone in your house, drinking which is where the tweet actually came from.

There was a lot of action from both fans of motorsport and YouTube fans. You of course got some hate from the tweet from the YouTube side and hence started the fued between your fans and Colby and Sam fans.

It wasn't until the podcast you went on that the duo took notice of you.

"So today I'm here in the studio with Y/N, now this I think is an intertsing podcast for both of us, because you've only been on Motorsport related ones so far correct?"

"Yes" you smile nodding. You'd actually been on a few podcasts as you really enjoyed talking to people and hearing their stories and being able to talk about your own experiences and hardships.

You started of with the generic motorsport questions, that were all angled at you being a woman in motorsport. Which you enjoyed as you knew getting to the position you had now was a hard hard feat you managed to overcome.

He then got onto more general questions about you life, which again you were happy to answer.

"I do have something that people asked me to ask when we first annouced you here and that was about the tweet with Sam and Colby?" he says looking to his notepad making sure he was keeping in his order.

"Mmmm, what about it?" you smile knowing this was going to be a thing.

"So you basically said along the lines of, if you were in a Sam and Colby video that you wouldn't be scared, why is that?" he asks tilting his head to the side.

"Well, not much scares me when i drive motorbikes at roughly 250 kmph. You know, I've come off those bikes and had my life flash before my eyes as I go into the barrier. One of my worst crashes nearly killed me, but I got back on the bike, one I healed and I won my first race back in Lusial. As part of the Red Bull family I've helped them with some crazy challanges, beat Max Verstappen in an F1 car and lots more. So i think it would genuinely take a lot to scare me!" you smile explaining your thought process behind your tweet and how you think you'd genuinely react.

"So I'm guessing you'd be like down to collab with them at some point!" he asks.

"Yeah of course, I know these things take time to plan so obviously you know with both our busy schedules it probably wouldn't be anytime soon, but you never know!" you grin and after a few more questions before the podcast ends.

It was around a week later, you were in your home gym getting some weight training in when a message dings up. You stop the current exercise your doing to check it.

It was an instagram DM from the Sam and Colby official account. You click on the notification to go onto the chat to look at what they'd messaged you.

Of course you immedielty replied. You exchanged numbers with both the boy's before Colby made a group chat asking when you were free.

It was harder to find times than you expected, the next time you all would be free was during your winter break from racing. Which was risky to confirm anything, especially to their fans as anything could happen to you in that time.

You agreed on a date and time to tell your fans.

The next step was you inviting them to a race weekend, you wanted to meet them but obviously didn't have much time between races. So you invited them to your home race at Silverstone in the United Kingdom.

They decided to make it a whole thing, where they explored some haunted places across England after coming to see you at your race.

You decided to meet them at the airport first and you couldn't hold in your nerves to meet them, you never had the best people skills which is probably why you went into the career path that you did.

You waited for them in the arrivals area, it wasn't too busy due to the time of the day, just a few business men in suits. You looked around for a board to see when their plane had landed, but could find one.

"Y/N?" you hear from behind you.

A/N: I don't know what the fandom's like on here, but I just like writing about cool situations that help with writers block for writing my book! If you follow me for F1 and General Motorsports this is me branching out my writing into another hyper fixation of mine that’s been around for a while!

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 13

word count: 7.3k

hi! this was inspired by one of the comments left in my inbox so thank u for the suggestion! i've read the other ones and have noted them down as well. happy reading!

"Harryyy, come on!" Aspen's playful whine echoed through the quiet library, earning a raised brow from an older patron seated nearby. Aspen winced apologetically before turning back to Harry, who stood a few feet away, his expression as unimpressed as ever, though the slight curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

"No," he puffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he bent down into the book cart. With one hand, he pulled out another hardcover while his other steadied the wobbling stack she had precariously piled earlier. He reached over, extending the book toward her without breaking stride. "Here, unless you wanna use me as a ladder again."

Aspen's cheeks flushed. The last time they'd done this, she had struggled with the top shelves and made him crouch down so she could awkwardly step onto his thigh. He hadn't let her live it down since.

It had become their little routine. Aspen was buried neck-deep in midterms and work shifts, balancing her time between lectures, the library, and stolen moments of quiet with Harry. On the nights where their schedules aligned, Harry had made it a habit of swinging by the library before closing time. At first, Aspen had protested his help, insisting she could finish on her own, but Harry, as persistent as he was, always wore her down. Now, she couldn't help but smile every time she saw him stroll through the doors with that easy confidence, ready to argue until she let him pitch in.

Today was no different. Aspen had barely clocked in after her lecture when Harry texted her: Be there at 4. A simple message, but it left her cheeks warm for the rest of her shift. By the time he arrived, they'd fallen into their usual rhythm. Aspen would work, and Harry would pretend to grumble about helping but inevitably do it anyway—though only after extracting a promise of a few kisses in his car afterward.

"Come on, if you make an Instagram account, we could all follow you, spy on your so-called private life," Aspen teased, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, biting back a giggle when Harry rolled his eyes.

"You already do that," he shot back, sliding another book into her waiting hands. "And I only really talk to you guys anyway. What's Instagram gonna do that my contacts and iMessage can't?"

Aspen jutted out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, cradling the book to her chest. "But then you could post all those artsy photos you take! Come on, Harry, you're practically an undercover photographer."

That earned her a full-on laugh, low and rich, as Harry leaned his hip against the cart. She wasn't wrong. One thing Aspen had quickly learned about him was his knack for capturing beauty in the mundane. Whether it was the glow of a sunset behind the mountains, the way fog curled lazily through downtown's alleys, or the candid snaps he'd take when she wasn't looking, his camera roll was a treasure trove of little moments. She knew he had an actual camera at home, too—one he swore was on its third memory card. But the thought of him sharing even a glimpse of those moments on Instagram made her grin grow wider.

Harry sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck like he was truly at a crossroads. "Alright, alright," he relented, earning an excited squeal from Aspen. "I'll make one so you can do all your little tagging stuff, but I'm not promising to post a single thing."

Aspen narrowed her eyes, as if weighing the seriousness of his promise, before finally giving in. "Deal." Her grin was infectious, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. She'd been pestering him for days, and deep down, he didn't really mind. The idea of her tagging him in pictures, forcing him into her corner of the social media world, wasn't so bad. Maybe he'd even scroll through it occasionally when he was bored or needed a distraction between clients.

Sliding the last book onto the shelf, Aspen turned back to him, her hands on her hips. "You know," she started with a sly smile, "this means you officially owe me now."

Harry raised a brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And what exactly do I owe you?"

"A coffee," she declared confidently. "Because I've been running on fumes all day, and if I don't get caffeine soon, you're going to have a grumpy librarian on your hands."

Harry chuckled, stepping closer and letting his hand brush lightly against hers. "Alright, love. Let's get you your coffee. But only if I get one of those kisses in return."

Aspen's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, her bashful smile tugging at his heart as she nodded. "Deal."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Harry carried his jacket hooked on his finger over his shoulder, the fabric swaying slightly with each step, while his other arm rested securely around Aspen’s shoulders. The warmth of his touch seeped through her sweater, grounding her as they exited the softly lit library into the crisp evening air. The muffled hum of passing cars filled the quiet space between them as they strolled toward his car, their pace unhurried, comfortable.

"Zayn told me earlier he’d be out with Isobel," Harry began, his voice low and inviting as he reached to open the passenger door for her. He leaned casually against the door frame, his jacket still dangling from his finger, as Aspen climbed in. "So I was wonderin’," he continued, his green eyes catching hers in the dim glow of the streetlamp, "if you’d like t’stay for dinner? It’s not too late. I could whip us somethin’ up."

Aspen paused, her hands fumbling slightly with her seatbelt as she glanced up at him. The way he stood there, effortlessly charming with a soft smile playing on his lips, made her heart flutter. "Yeah! I’d like to, H. Thank you," she replied, her own smile small but genuine.

Harry’s smile widened just a fraction before he leaned down, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. The gesture left her momentarily breathless, her eyes fluttering shut instinctively at the tenderness. He shut the door gently behind her and rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat with an ease that came from countless nights like this. As the engine purred to life and warm air began to flood the cabin, Aspen’s stomach let out a low growl, breaking the comfortable silence.

Harry let out a puff of air, a laugh that was both teasing and fond. "Hungry, are we?" he teased, glancing at her sideways with a smirk. Aspen’s cheeks turned pink as she ducked her head in embarrassment, but her lips curved into a sheepish grin.

"Maybe a little," she admitted, the confession barely audible over the soft hum of the heater.

By the time they arrived at his apartment, Harry had already shrugged off his jacket and was heading for the kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable," he called over his shoulder as Aspen toed off her shoes and hung her tote bag neatly on the coat rack by the door. Before disappearing into the living room, she felt the soft press of his lips on her forehead again, a fleeting touch that left her cheeks warm.

Harry rummaged through his fridge, the faint clink of jars and the rustle of packaging filling the kitchen as he searched. "Baby?" His voice broke the quiet after a couple of minutes, pulling Aspen from her thoughts as she peeked her head around the corner.

"Yeah?" she asked softly, stepping into the kitchen. The cold tile against her pink, frilly sock-covered feet made her shiver, but the sight of Harry, slightly hunched with his head in the fridge, was enough to distract her. He turned toward her with a package of chicken in hand, his smile easy and affectionate.

"Are you okay with chicken? Gonna do somethin’ easy with it—maybe some broccoli and potatoes?" he asked, holding up the ingredients as if to get her approval.

Aspen nodded quickly, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see her silent affirmation. Realizing her mistake, she squeaked out a soft, "Yes... yes! That sounds good, thank you."

Harry chuckled quietly to himself, charmed by her shy but earnest response. She pulled one of the chairs out from the island and perched on it, her feet resting on the footrest as she settled in to watch him. Aspen wanted to keep him company, to be near him while he worked his magic in the kitchen, but she stayed quiet, her gaze soft as she observed him move.

Harry worked with a practiced ease, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he began chopping broccoli and seasoning the chicken. The faint clatter of utensils and the rhythmic chop of the knife filled the air, punctuated by the occasional clink of a glass or a soft hum from Harry as he focused. Aspen found herself mesmerized by the simple yet deliberate way he moved, every gesture seeming natural and unhurried.

"You’re really good at this," she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the faint sizzle as he turned on the stovetop.

Harry glanced up, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. "At cookin’? Or at convincin’ you to stay for dinner?"

Aspen giggled, her hands fidgeting slightly in her lap. "Both, maybe," she admitted, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Well, lucky for you," he said, flashing her a grin as he set the pan on the stove, "I happen to enjoy doin’ both."

Dinner had gone by in a blur of easy conversation, soft laughter, and the comfortable rhythm that Harry and Aspen had found themselves settling into. Aspen was shy, yes, but around Harry, there was a growing ease—a sense that she could let her guard down without judgment. They spoke about their day, her recounting a particularly funny mishap during her shift at the library, and him sharing a story about a client who insisted on getting a tattoo of their cat dressed as a pirate. It left Aspen giggling behind her hand, her laughter light and airy, a sound Harry was quickly growing addicted to.

As the plates were cleared and the last bites of dinner had been taken, Harry stood and began gathering the dishes, shooting her a teasing look when she moved to help. "Sit tight, love," he said, shaking his head. "I’ll take care of this. You’ve had a long day."

Aspen hesitated, her hands half-reaching for a plate, but she relented under the warmth of his gaze. “Okay,” she murmured softly, her voice small but sweet.

Harry rinsed the plates before stacking them neatly in the sink. He turned to her, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and his expression softened. "Y’want somethin’ more comfortable to wear? Don’t have to if you’re fine as is, but if y’want, I can grab you a shirt or somethin’."

Aspen blinked at him, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face before she nodded. "That would be nice... if you don’t mind."

Harry’s grin was immediate and reassuring. "‘Course not. Be right back."

He returned moments later with a well-worn black t-shirt, the fabric soft from years of wear. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. “Bathroom’s just down the hall on the left,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction. Aspen nodded, clutching the shirt to her chest as she padded down the hallway.

Inside the bathroom, Aspen closed the door behind her and let out a quiet breath. The room was clean, with simple touches that felt inherently like Harry—spare but thoughtful. A small plant sat in the corner near the window, and the counter was neat, save for a watch and a bottle of cologne. She couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly over the label of the bottle, smiling to herself at how even the scent of it made her think of him.

She slipped out of her sweater, folding it neatly on the counter, and pulled Harry’s shirt over her head. The fabric was oversized, hanging loosely over her frame, and the faint scent of him clung to it—something warm and comforting. She decided to keep her leggings on, smoothing them down before taking one last glance at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks warmed as she imagined Harry seeing her like this, wearing his clothes.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the faint sound of running water guided her back to the kitchen. Harry was standing at the sink, his sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he scrubbed at a pan. The sight of him made her pause for a moment, her lips curving into a soft smile before she shuffled into the room.

Harry glanced up as she entered, and for a second, he froze. The shirt was far too big for her, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, the neckline slightly loose on her petite frame. She looked small, cozy, and unmistakably his. The thought hit him with a surprising intensity. His shirt. On her. It felt... right. Like a quiet claim, subtle but undeniable.

"Y’look good," he said after a beat, his voice low and sincere as he dried his hands on the towel. He crossed the room toward her, his green eyes soft as they took her in.

Aspen’s cheeks flushed pink, and she toyed with the hem of the shirt, glancing down shyly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s lips quirked up in a fond smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over her arm. "You make it look better than I ever did," he added, his tone playful but laced with an underlying tenderness.

Aspen peeked up at him, her lips twitching into a small, bashful smile. “You’re just saying that.”

"Not a chance," Harry replied, shaking his head as he gazed at her. In that moment, with her standing in his kitchen, wearing his shirt and looking like the very embodiment of comfort, Harry couldn’t help but think that this—her, here—was something he could get used to. Something he wanted to get used to.

With the dishes done and the clock showing just past eight, Harry leaned against the counter, drying the last plate. He looked over at Aspen, who was seated on one of the kitchen stools, idly running her fingers along the hem of his shirt. She looked completely at home, and the sight filled Harry with a quiet warmth he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

"Not too late yet," Harry said, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder. "How d’you feel about a movie? Could use a bit of a break after today, yeah?"

Aspen’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. “That sounds nice. I—I wouldn’t mind cuddling up with you again,” she admitted, her voice shy but steady enough to make Harry’s chest swell with affection.

He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. "Alright then. Y’pick somethin’, and I’ll get the living room sorted. Just gimme a sec to change out of these," he said, gesturing to his skinny jeans and button-up shirt.

Aspen’s cheeks warmed at the thought of him getting more comfortable. "Okay," she replied softly, sliding off the stool and padding into the living room. She browsed through his small stack of DVDs on the shelf, her fingers brushing over the spines as she considered what to watch.

Meanwhile, Harry disappeared into his room, tugging off his work clothes and swapping them for a pair of gray sweats and a plain white tee. He left his hair a little mussed, the loose curls falling naturally around his face, and kept only one of his rings on—a silver one he wore on his index finger. As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he wondered if Aspen would notice the change. 

When he returned to the living room, Aspen was kneeling in front of the TV, the remote in her hand and a movie paused on the screen. "This okay?" she asked, turning to him with an uncertain smile.

"Perfect," Harry replied as he crossed the room. But instead of sitting down next to her, he grinned mischievously, lunging toward her with playful energy.

Aspen let out a surprised squeak as Harry tackled her onto the couch, gently but with enough force to leave her laughing breathlessly. "Harry!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed as he settled them both into a comfortable position after teasing her a bit. He tucked her firmly into his side, pulling a throw blanket over the both of them with one hand.

"There," he said with a satisfied grin, his arm draped around her shoulders as she snuggled into his side. Her small hand rested on his abdomen, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath her fingers.

Aspen sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Being close to Harry like this was quickly becoming one of her favorite things, and she couldn’t help but smile at how natural it felt.

Harry, meanwhile, was busy memorizing every detail of the moment. The way Aspen fit against him like she was meant to be there. The feel of her hand resting on his stomach, moving ever so slightly in rhythm with his breathing. He started tracing light patterns along her arm with his fingers, the repetitive motion soothing for both of them.

"Y’comfy, love?" Harry asked, his voice low and warm.

Aspen nodded against his chest, her face half-hidden by the fabric of his shirt. "Mmhm. Very," she murmured, her shyness laced with contentment.

Harry glanced down at her, his green eyes softening as he watched her settle further into his side. She looked perfect—completely at ease, her cheeks still slightly pink, her fingers brushing lightly over his stomach as if she couldn’t help but touch him.

The movie started, but Harry found it hard to focus on the screen. His thoughts kept drifting back to Aspen. How cute she looked in his oversized shirt, her leggings still clinging to her legs. How much she looked like she belonged there, with him, wrapped up in their own little bubble of warmth and comfort.

"Y’know," Harry said softly after a while, his fingers pausing their movements on her arm, "I could get used to this."

Aspen peeked up at him, her shy smile returning as her heart fluttered at his words. "Me too," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Harry’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied grin. "I should have y'around more often, then, hm?" Aspen nodded, settling more into his side when he gave her arm a reassured squeeze. When Harry caught her beautiful brown eyes flicker down to his lips, he took that as his sign to tilt his head and close the space. She sighed contently, which made Harry grin into their kiss. Slowly, he was learning her little clues and asks without having to actually ask for them. Harry didn't mind. He vowed to himself to understand her always.

As Harry settled onto the couch and his eyes wandered back to the TV, Aspen couldn’t help but notice the subtle differences in him. His curls were slightly messier than usual, like he’d run his fingers through them carelessly after changing. Her eyes flicked to his hand resting on the edge of the blanket, and she noticed he was wearing only one ring, a simple silver one on his index finger. It was such a small detail, but it made her stomach flutter. Even with all the tattoos winding across his arms, his lip piercing catching the light, and the remnants of chipped black polish on his nails, he looked so much like the Harry he showed only to her—soft, unguarded, and entirely hers. It made her heart ache in the best way, knowing she got to see him like this, in these intimate, quiet moments.

The movie had long since settled into a soft lull, its dialogue blending into the warm hum of the apartment. Aspen and Harry had started the evening curled up together, but as time passed, their slow breathing matched the quiet rhythm of the soundtrack, and without realizing it, they both drifted into sleep. Harry’s arm remained wrapped around Aspen, her cheek resting on his shoulder, and the blanket had slipped slightly, pooling at their legs.

Hours passed until Harry stirred, his body instinctively turning toward his side in search of comfort. In his half-conscious state, his hand moved as if reaching for Aspen, but when his fingers met only the cool fabric of the couch, his eyes fluttered open. Disoriented at first, he blinked into the dim glow of the room. Where had she gone? The clock on the wall read just past midnight. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, the blanket falling away as he stretched and glanced toward the hallway.

A faint light spilled from the kitchen, and Harry padded toward it, the hardwood floor cool beneath his bare feet. Leaning against the doorframe, he found her standing in front of the open freezer, her petite frame silhouetted by the soft white glow. She was peering into its depths with a furrowed brow, her hands rubbing her arms lightly as the cool air spilled out around her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on whatever she was searching for.

“Aspen?” His voice was soft, still laced with sleep, and her head whipped around so fast that a lock of hair fell into her eyes. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she slammed the freezer door shut, stepping back awkwardly.

“Oh! I… I didn’t mean to wake you,” Aspen stammered, her voice barely audible. Her hands fidgeted in front of her, fingers twisting together nervously as she searched for the right words. “I was just, um… I got thirsty—well, no, not thirsty, but… hungry? Kind of?” She trailed off, her cheeks already flushing as she realized how jumbled her explanation sounded. Her gaze dropped to her socked feet, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Harry leaned casually against the kitchen doorway, a soft, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t teasing, just patient and understanding. “You’re fine, love,” he said gently, his voice still raspy from sleep. “What were you looking for?”

“I… uh…” Aspen hesitated, her hands nervously tugging at the hem of his oversized shirt she wore, the soft fabric bunching under her fingers. Her heart thudded as she felt her cheeks burn hotter. She wanted to tell him, but the thought of admitting she was craving something so specific—so indulgent—made her stomach twist with embarrassment.

Harry noticed her hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly. Taking a step forward, he tilted his head, meeting her gaze even though she tried to avoid it. “Aspen,” he said softly, his voice coaxing. “It’s okay. Whatever you want, just tell me.”

“I—” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed nervously, still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it.”

Harry smiled warmly, taking another step toward her. “Silly or not, you’re standing in the middle of my kitchen at midnight. So whatever it is, it must be worth finding, yeah?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought for a moment. “Let’s see… were you looking for snacks? Chips? Crackers?” He tilted his head playfully. “Maybe leftover pizza?”

Aspen shook her head, a soft laugh escaping despite her nerves. “No… none of those.”

Harry grinned, encouraged by the sound of her laugh. “Alright, what about something sweet, then? Chocolate? Cookies?” He paused, pretending to consider. “Ice cream?”

At that, her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and her fingers twisted even tighter in the fabric of his shirt. She nodded shyly, glancing up at him for only a split second before looking away again. “Ice cream,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s heart melted at how utterly bashful she was. He stepped closer, his hand brushing gently against her arm to reassure her. “Ice cream, huh?” he repeated with a soft chuckle. “That’s not silly at all, Aspen. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to raid my freezer.”

Her head snapped up, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t raiding!” she protested, her voice rising slightly in defense before softening again. “I mean… I was just looking.”

Harry chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—just looking,” he teased, opening the freezer himself and glancing back at her. “So, what flavor are we after?”

Aspen hesitated, nervously toying with her hair now. “I, um… I think you had mint chocolate chip the other day?” she said hesitantly, her voice wavering.

Harry caught the way her blush deepened, and his smile softened further. “Mint chocolate chip,” he echoed thoughtfully, his tone light and reassuring. “Good choice, love. Let’s see if we’ve got any left.”

He turned back to the freezer, but his mind lingered on her. The way she looked so small and shy in his kitchen, wearing his shirt, made his chest ache in the best way. She was adorable, and he loved how vulnerable and comfortable she was around him—even when she was nervous.

Harry leaned into the freezer, moving a few frozen bags and containers around until he spotted a familiar green carton pushed to the very back. “Got it,” he announced, pulling it out with a triumphant smile.

Aspen’s face lit up, and she let out a small, delighted laugh. “You’re good at this.”

“I try,” Harry teased, grabbing two spoons from the drawer before motioning toward the floor. “C’mon. Let’s eat before it melts.”

They settled on the cool tile, their backs against the cabinets, and Harry opened the lid with a satisfying pop. He offered her the first spoonful, watching as her eyes lit up at the first taste. “Still your favorite?” he asked, taking a bite for himself.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, nodding enthusiastically. The sweetness melted on her tongue, and she sighed contentedly. Harry still had sleep in his eyes, but being able to be awake with her was worth any amount of sleep.

The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of spoons against the carton. Harry glanced at Aspen between bites, his gaze lingering on how the overhead light highlighted the soft curve of her cheeks and the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled. She looked completely at ease now, the embarrassment from earlier forgotten, and he felt a wave of warmth settle over him.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful, “this feels kind 'f perfect. Jus' you and me, stealing ice cream in the middle of the night.”

Aspen glanced at him, her shy smile growing. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “It really does.”

As they continued to share the ice cream, the quiet intimacy of the moment lingered, filling the kitchen with a warmth that had nothing to do with the light overhead. Harry twirled his spoon in the carton absently, a small smile playing on his lips. “Alright,” he began, breaking the silence, “I’ve got a question for you.”

Aspen looked at him curiously, her spoon poised mid-air. “What kind of question?”

“Nothing too serious,” Harry assured her, leaning back against the cabinet. “Just… what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

“Nothing too serious,” Harry assured her, leaning back against the cabinet. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his bare feet crossing lazily. Her legs were shorter than his, a small quirk that turned the corner of his lips up when he noticed it from how they sat. Despite his casual posture, his green eyes were alert, focused entirely on Aspen. “Jus… what’s something you’ve always wanted t'do but haven’t had the chance t'yet?”

Aspen froze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Her fingers traced the edge of the ice cream lid nervously, her mind racing with possibilities. There were so many things she had dreamed of, so many ideas she’d quietly nurtured but never spoken aloud. “I don’t know,” she murmured finally, her voice soft. “There’s a lot I’d like to do someday.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into an encouraging smile. He knew that hesitation of hers, that instinct to downplay her desires, but he wanted to hear more. “Like what? Give me one thing,” he coaxed gently, his voice low and warm.

Aspen’s breath caught. The way Harry looked at her—calm, patient, and interested—made her feel safe, like her answer really mattered. She dropped her gaze to her lap, gathering her courage as her heart thudded in her chest. “I’ve always wanted to travel,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… pack a bag and go somewhere completely new. Maybe Italy, or Japan.”

Harry noticed the shift in her tone as she continued, her shyness giving way to quiet enthusiasm. “I want to see the art, the history,” she went on, her words picking up pace. “Experience things that feel bigger than me.”

He couldn’t look away. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams, the subtle curve of her lips as her confidence grew—it was like seeing a different side of her unfold, piece by piece. His chest ached in the best way, a deep warmth blooming inside him. “That sounds amazing,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “You’d love it. You’ve got tha' curiosity about you—like you’d soak it all in, every detail.”

Aspen felt her cheeks flush, her gaze dipping once more. His words struck something deep within her, something fragile and precious. She wasn’t used to being seen like this, to someone noticing and valuing the quiet parts of her that she often kept hidden. “What about you?” she asked quickly, desperate to shift the focus away from herself. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of the shirt she was wearing—Harry’s shirt—and she peeked up at him, her shyness mixing with genuine curiosity. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

Harry chuckled, a low sound that made Aspen’s heart flutter. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees as he gave her a playful look. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“I won’t,” she promised, her eyes wide and earnest. She meant it; she couldn’t imagine laughing at him, not when he was sharing a piece of himself like this.

“Alright,” Harry said, his voice taking on a mock conspiratorial tone. “I’ve always wanted t'learn how to surf. Properly, I mean. Not just flopping 'round on a board.”

Aspen blinked in surprise before a soft laugh escaped her lips. It wasn’t mocking—it was light and delighted, filled with a warmth that spread between them. “That’s not silly at all,” she said quickly, her smile growing. “I can actually picture you on a beach.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah? With all the tattoos n' everything?”

She nodded, her cheeks dimpling. “It suits you. The freedom of it… the connection to nature. It feels like you.”

Harry felt his breath hitch at her words, but it was subtle and went without notice. She said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it hit him deeply. He wasn’t used to being seen in that way, his desires and identity so easily understood. “You’re pretty good at this, you know?” he said quietly, his voice tinged with awe. “Seeing people for who they are.”

Aspen’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and she ducked her head shyly. “I just… like paying attention.”

He smiled softly, his heart swelling at her words. He realized that was one of the things he admired most about her—how much she noticed, how much she cared, even if she didn’t always say it aloud.

The moment hung between them, tender and unspoken, as their hearts opened just a little more. And in the quiet warmth of the kitchen, with an empty carton of ice cream forgotten beside them, Harry felt something settle deep within him—a certainty that this, whatever this was, was worth every moment.

Aspen shifted slightly, tucking her legs closer to her body as she glanced at Harry. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, but it wasn’t heavy—it was comforting, like a warm blanket wrapping them in something safe and intimate. Her voice was soft when she spoke again, careful not to disrupt the gentle mood they’d settled into.

“What’s something that calms you down? Like... instantly?” she asked, her curiosity genuine. Her wide eyes studied him, searching his face for an answer.

Harry tilted his head back against the cabinet, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His closed eyes peered open to look at her with a sheepish smirk. “You’re gonna think ’m cheesy.”

Aspen raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin slipping onto her face. “What is it?”

He finally murmured, “Talking to you.” Harry let out a small puff of air, though he wasn't lying. She was his grounding piece. She took his mess and made sense of it.

Aspen let out a playful whine, nudging his shoulder with hers as her cheeks flared pink. “Harry! Be serious!” she giggled, her laugh bubbling up and breaking the quiet.

“I am serious!” he defended, grinning now, though the teasing glint in her eyes made him laugh softly. “Alright, alright. Lemme think.”

She waited patiently, her gaze steady on him. Her heart thudded gently in her chest as she watched him search for an answer, the way his brow furrowed slightly and his lips pressed together in thought. Finally, he spoke.

“Tattooing,” he said simply at first, but there was a weight in his tone that made Aspen sit up a little straighter. His fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of his shirt as he continued, his voice quieter now, more reflective. “Whether it’s actually tattooing someone or just sketching a new design... it’s like everything else disappears for a while. There’s jus' me n' the lines I’m creating. It’s... grounding.”

Aspen tilted her head, her interest piqued. She could tell there was more he wasn’t saying, so she stayed quiet, giving him the space to keep going.

“It’s not jus' about the art,” Harry admitted, his green eyes flickering to hers before looking away again, as if what he was about to say felt too vulnerable to meet her gaze. “It’s... therapeutic, in a way. When I’m tattooing someone, there’s this trust, y'know? They’re letting me leave something permanent on them, something that means something to them. And when I’m sketching, i’s like... I can take whatever’s in my head—whatever’s making me feel restless or stuck—and put it on paper. Turn it into something that makes sense.”

Aspen’s heart ached at the sincerity in his words, the way he spoke with such quiet passion. She hadn’t expected such a heartfelt answer, but it made sense. Tattooing wasn’t just a job to him; it was a part of who he was.

“It’s kind of like...” Harry paused, searching for the right words. “When I’m holding the machine, or even just a pencil, it’s like I have control over something. Like no matter how messy life gets, I can create something beautiful from it. It’s calming in a way nothing else is.”

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching at his honesty. She’d always admired Harry’s talent, but hearing him talk about it like this—so deeply, so openly—gave her a new perspective. “That’s... really beautiful,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “I never thought about it like that before.”

Harry looked at her then, his gaze steady and full of something unspoken. “It’s the same feeling I get when I’m with you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Like everything else fades, and it’s just us. Simple.”

Aspen felt her cheeks heat again, her heart thudding against her ribs. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t—his eyes held her in place, and she didn’t want to break the moment.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his hand before curling around it. “It means a lot.”

Harry smiled softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, baby,” he murmured, his voice like a promise. And in the quiet stillness of the kitchen, with only the faint hum of the fridge in the background, they stayed like that—two people learning each other, piece by piece, with every shared word and touch.

Harry's thumb brushed against the back of Aspen’s hand as he held it, the simple contact sparking warmth that spread through both of them. He glanced down at their joined hands, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he looked back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her wide eyes flickered nervously between their hands and his face. She was shy, as always, but there was a comfort in her expression now—a softness that told him she felt safe.

The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator, but neither of them noticed. Harry’s gaze lingered on her, taking in the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fluttered as she peeked up at him. His chest tightened with an unfamiliar ache—not of pain, but of something deeper. Something he couldn’t quite put into words. He felt it every time she looked at him like that, like he was someone who mattered, someone who could make her feel special.

Aspen’s heart raced as she felt the weight of his gaze. It was gentle, but it held an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention—wasn’t used to someone looking at her like she was something worth cherishing. Yet, with Harry, it felt... right. Natural, even. Her fingers fidgeted slightly against his, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

Harry leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back, to stop him if she wanted. But she didn’t move. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly, but there was no fear—only a quiet, nervous anticipation. His hand gently released hers, moving to cup her cheek instead. His thumb brushed along her skin, soft and deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of her.

“You’re somethin’ else, Aspen,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like a promise wrapped in affection.

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her breath trembling as her thoughts spun. She didn’t know what to say—wasn’t sure she could form words even if she wanted to. All she could do was feel—the warmth of his hand against her cheek, the way his green eyes held hers like she was the only thing that mattered.

Harry dipped his head, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed hers gently, barely more than a whisper of a kiss. It was soft, tentative, as though he was asking for permission rather than taking. Aspen’s heart thudded against her ribs, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

When he pulled back slightly, their noses still brushing, Harry searched her face, his thumb still stroking her cheek. “Okay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aspen nodded, her cheeks burning as her lips curved into a shy smile. “Yeah,” she breathed, her voice almost as quiet as his.

Encouraged by her response, Harry leaned in again, pressing another kiss to her lips. This one lingered a little longer, though it was just as gentle. His heart swelled at the way she leaned into him, her fingers lightly brushing against his knee for balance. She was hesitant, but she wasn’t holding back. Not with him.

Aspen felt her nerves melting away, replaced by a warmth that seemed to start in her chest and spread to every part of her. Kissing Harry felt... safe. Like she didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or being too much. He made her feel like she was enough—just as she was.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he soaked in the moment. “You’re somethin’ else,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe.

Aspen let out a quiet laugh, her fingers curling against his knee. “You’ve said that already,” she teased softly, her shyness giving way to a growing comfort in his presence.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, opening his eyes to look at her. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

She smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. And as they sat there, still tangled in the intimacy of the moment, Aspen realized that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to believe him.

"Something good, I hope.," Aspen quipped, her doe eyes looking up into his.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Aspen only felt the heat crawl up her neck and blush her face. Harry thumbed over her reddening cheek, a cute trait he learned to adore about her. After a few moments of just being in each other's silence, her lips released a tiny yawn which made Harry's lips crack a small smile. "C'mon," he tossed the spoons in the sink above him, pushing himself to stand up before he held out a hand. "Satisfied now, baby? Or is there somethin' else you would like? My kitchen is all yours."

Aspen shook her head shyly, taking his big hand to prop herself back to her two feet. "No, no. I'm all set now. Thank you so much, Harry." The mans heart softened at her words. "Alright, then le's get you back t'bed."

His voice dripped in sleep, low and hanging on to the two brain cells that were currently keeping him awake now. "I'll get you tucked into bed and I'll take the couch." Harry picked up the empty carton, tossing it onto the pile of trash in his bin. Before Aspen could say another word or even think of one to say, his arms slid around the back of her thighs and under her arms to sweep her off her feet. 

"Harry!," Aspen exlaimed in surprise, kicking her feet as she giggled. Harry kissed her shoulder and carried her bridal style down the hall to his bedroom, where he carefully set her down under the sheets. He pulled them back over Aspen, who was slightly sitting up against his headboard. "Do y'want me to stay until you fall asleep? I'll take the couch tonight so—."

Aspen shaking her head cut his sentence off. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows at her shy expression and wandering eyes, taking note of her fidgeting fingers. "You...," she started, come on Aspen—she sucked in a breath— "You can stay. Only if you want, but please." The girls words were rushed by still remained shy and squeakish. His lips tugged back into a smile, which he found himself doing more lately because of her compared to the last few years of his life. 

"Are you letting me know I can stay?" Harry knew her offer was more of her asking, but he didn't want to shine that light onto her. The man gently brushed her hair behind her ear. Anything to make her feel comfortable, he would do. When she nodded again, he hummed contently. "I would love t'stay with you, Asp. Thank you f'letting me." 

Normally, Harry would be down to his briefs if he had been by himself. But to not scare Aspen off, he climbed into bed after removing just his ring on his index finger. He let it clatter into the little tray and he settled under the covers next to him. He didn't mind that she picked his side of the bed, his mind quickly allowing it to become just hers.

Aspen had always had issues falling asleep or staying asleep in a bed or a place that wasn't her own. The first and only time she had a sleepover was when she was eleven, and she had called her sister to pick her up at two in the morning because she just couldn't sleep. But it was different in Harrys bed. She molded into the divot in the bed that was previously there, which she pieced together was Harry's original side of the bed. Aspen felt safe, felt comfortable surrounded by his scent and the soft duvet. 

"Is it okay if I hold you?" Even though they cuddled here and there (every time one of them was over), he still thought it would be respectful to ask in case she needed her space. That idea quickly left his mind when she shuffled closer and curled back into his side like she had earlier in the night. His arms instinctively wrapped around her small frame and his nose buried into the top of her head, followed by a small lasting kiss.

"I've got you, baby. Get some sleep." 

And with that, Aspen found Harry in her dreams once more.

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Wifies runs a small bakery that has some. . . interesting clientele. A snapshot of a typical day at Wifies's bakery and café.

Notes: written quickly in the span of like 5 hours while at work and mostly unedited, here is some fluff as an apology for all the psychological damage I did the other night :') please forgive any SPAG errors, I'll give it a good clean and cross post to AO3 some other time. With cameos from Ken, Parrot, Egg and Wemmbu, and Wato ! divider

Word count: 1,445

The bell over the bakery door jingles merrily, and Wifies steps out of the kitchen with a generic greeting on his tongue before he realizes it's Ken. It's been a while since he’d seen Ken. Today, Ken has a long skirt on, so Wifies can't see if the ankle monitor is still on. He has those, sometimes. Wifies usually finds out because he launches directly into complaining about it.

“Wifies!”

“Hi Ken. Why are you here at 5:30 am?”

Wifies woke up at 3 am. Bakeries are early work after all, but Ken’s schedule is a mystery to him.

“I just got out of work actually!”

Ken leans up against the big display next to the counter, dual colored eyes darting around rapidly across all the cookies and cakes. Wifies can already tell what he's going to get, so he grabs a box and starts puzzling it together.

“Ohhh, I want one of those.”

Ken taps the glass over a tray of meat pastelitos. Made of thin, crunchy layers of pastry and stuffed with minced meat, it's exactly the kind of thing Ken would enjoy. They're only sweet enough to make the savory stand out.

“Of course. How many?”

Ken taps his claws on the glass a few times and says, “Three.”

Wifies snorts and grabs a piece of parchment paper. They're easier to handle with his hands and not tongs. He piles three into the box and shuts it, returning to the counter where Ken is already dropping off some diamonds.

“Just the one,” Wifies says, handing Ken the box.

“Shut up,” Ken says, dropping the rest of the diamonds into the tip jar.

He opens the box and pulls a pastelito out. Wifies's bakery is small, shoved into a corner of the block, so there isn't really anywhere to sit. Ken has never really cared about that kind of thing though. He takes a bite out of the pastry— really he chomps through half of it— and crumbs go flying everywhere. He groans.

“So good,” Ken mutters around his mouthful.

“You're dirtying my counter,” Wifies pulls the towel he keeps in his pocket out and wipes the mess away

“No tables!”

“Shut up.”

Ken finishes his pastry and grabs a wad of napkins out of the dispenser at the far end of the counter, cleaning his face and fingers off.

“Wifies, if you leave this town, I'm killing myself,” Ken says serenely, closing the box back up. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Ken.”

Ken leaves with a skip in his step and a pleased curl to his tail. Today's forecast was rain all day, so Wifies isn't expecting much traffic; it was a pleasant surprise to see Ken at all. He has dough that needs proofing, cupcakes to ice, and bread to bake though, so he returns to the kitchen with low expectations. When the bell rings only 30 minutes later, though, he's surprised again.

“Welcome,” Wifies calls out, wiping his hands on his apron. “How can I help you?”

“Hey.”

Parrot shakes his wings out and waves at Wifies. He's got a nasty cut on his jaw and a bruise over his eyebrow.

“Oh, Parrot,” Wifies sighs, opening the gate to get around the counter and get right into Parrot's space.

“It's not that bad!”

Wifies makes sure his hands are dry before turning Parrot's face to one side and looking at the cut. It's clean, which is a good thing, but it's raw and red still.

“It's not that bad,” Parrot repeats, letting Wifies inspect him regardless. “I won!”

“At least you won,” Wifies sighs again and lets go of Parrot, returning to his spot behind the counter. “Winners still don't get discounts.”

Parrot laughs and checks out the display. He crouches and his profile twists up— he must be hurt under his clothes. Wifies isn't sure why Parrot is always getting into scraps, but he wishes that he'd be less injury prone. Parrot taps on the glass.

“A lemon bar, and a sugar cookie too.”

Wifies packs those up for him.

“Have you gotten your coffee machine fixed yet?” Parrot asks, handing over some diamonds.

“Not yet, sorry.”

“Then what kind of tea should I have with the lemon bar?”

Wifies perks up. Parrot never orders tea.

“Earl grey.”

“Then I’ll take some.”

Wifies can’t help how obvious his pleasure is. He loves tea, but it’s not a popular drink since most people just want coffee. He makes himself a cup of earl grey too, in his own mug instead of a takeout cup.

“Do you want honey?”

“Make it however you like it most.”

Wifies adds honey and a bit of cream, stirring it all up and capping it. He hands Parrot his take out cup and sips at his mug with a pleased sigh. Parrot tries his own.

“That’s really good.”

Wifies grins and says, “I know!”

Parrot leaves with a wave, and Wifies hangs out at the counter for a few minutes with his tea. The sky cracks open with rain as he finishes the last dregs in his mug, and with it comes the tumbling bodies of Egg and Wemmbu.

“Hi there you two,” Wifies says, popping into the kitchen to drop his mug off at the sink before coming back out. “Caught by the rain?”

“It’s awful out there!” Egg complains.

Wemmbu silently wrings his hair out over the welcome mat.

“Do you have any quiches?” Egg asks, bouncing on his heels.

“No more quiches!” Wemmbu complains, but Wifies ignores him as he usually does.

Egg is the one who pays, and Egg is the one who’s nice to him, so Egg gets to have as many quiches as he wants.

“I do. I have spinach cheddar, tomato basil, and artichoke parmesan.”

“Ohhhhh, Wifies, two of each please.”

“Coming right up.”

Wemmbu complains loudly as Wifies packs each quiche pair into their own little boxes. Egg doesn’t give Wemmbu the time of day when it comes to what he orders here; it’s obvious Wemmbu makes enough demands that Egg is over him. Sometimes Wifies wonders what the appeal of sticking around Wemmbu is for someone as pleasant as Egg, but he also knows that the purple jacket Egg is wearing is Wemmbu’s, so maybe he does understand.

“Thank you Wifies,” Egg says, big blue eye somehow conveying joy even in its singularity. “See you!”

“Stay safe out there.”

Wemmbu groans and they dash out into the rain. After them, the day remains misty and quiet. A few more people come in and out, but Wifies spends most of his time in the kitchen, working on some custom orders. Usually, bakeries like his close pretty early— most of his profit is made in the morning, and after 3 pm, foot traffic dies quickly. But he’s waiting for his clockwork patron to arrive before closing for the day. At 5 pm, his door bell jingles, and when he reaches the counter, Wato is already looking through the display with a critical eye.

“Hi Wato,” Wifies opens the gate and goes to the door to flip the sign from open to closed.

“Hey Wifies,” Wato’s green tail sways behind them like a metronome. “Anything new today?”

“I do!”

Wato perks up, a puff of bedrock dust floating up from their clothes at the sudden movement. Bedrock has a strange, distinct smell, in that it clears other smells out in its wake. It smells like fog, or void, or absence. Wifies shivers at the way that not-smell fills the air so familiarly, wipes away the sweetness of sugar and warmth of bread that he’s been basking in all day.

Wato sneezes.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. What did you make?”

“Please hold.”

He’s been storing it in wait for Wato. Once it’s warmed through, he brings it to the counter, held out like a cake.

“A breakfast pot pie. It’s made with sausage, cheese, bacon, potatoes, cream, and a poached egg baked into the top of the pie crust.”

Wato’s tail starts wagging like crazy. It kicks up more bedrock dust, but nothing can take away how proud Wifies is right now. He grabs a plastic fork and hands it off to Wato. Wato wordlessly digs in. Wifies doesn’t usually like staring people down when they eat, finds it weird and invasive, but Wato wears their joy on their face, and right now they look absolutely delighted.

“Wifies, marry me,” Wato says, turning their big green eyes onto Wifies. Wifies laughs loudly. “Stop laughing, marry me now, I can’t love another day without this.”

“You won’t have to,” Wifies assures. “I’m gonna be here for a long, long time.”

[sunnebeam]

"my boss just gave me orders."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi being oblivious & wifey being horn knee ;)

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> tbf i don't really like how this turned out (well what's new?) but i hope u guys still enjoy this. and as always, feedback & reviews are highly appreciated!

After the longest day at work, you finally arrive back home.

Holly barks at you, welcoming you home, leading you to coo and kiss the poodle hello. Your husband follows right after, taking your bag from your shoulder and welcoming you with a big smooch on the lips.

"Welcome home, darling," Yoongi greets you with his signature uneven smile.

He's changed up his outfit today, choosing to wear a fitted black shirt that outlines his chest beautifully. You drool at the sight.

"Welcome home, indeed," you echo back.

"Are you hungry?" he asks you.

"Mhm," you confirm.

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I'm so hungry, Yoonie," you continue in what you hope to be a seductive tone. "Absolutely starving."

Unfortunately, your husband takes it literally.

"Why? Did you work through your lunch break?"

"No, no, Yoonie, I meant—"

"That can't do, darling," he says in a no-nonsense tone. "We need to get some food in you. Come on, quick."

And Yoongi leaves you there – stunned, horny, and in disbelief.

But you remain persistent. You try again after dinner and after you've both finished washing the dishes.

"Yoonie? Wanna watch some Netflix and chill with me?"

This should work. Your husband's a millennial. Surely, he knows what Netflix & Chill means, right? Right?

Wrong.

"This is a good movie," your husband mumbles through a mouthful of popcorn. "You picked a good movie, darling. It's well-directed and the cinematography is outstanding."

You smile dryly in response.

You're both seated on the couch with clothes still on, unfortunately. Naturally, Yoongi took your words for what they were and is currently engrossed in the Netflix film you mindlessly picked.

Looks like you need to be more specific.

"God, it's so hot in here!" you exclaim in exaggeration, fanning yourself with your hand. "Aren't you feeling hot, Yoonie?"

He finally takes his eyes off the movie to focus on you.

"Uh, no?" he responds in confusion, staring at the thermostat that showed an acceptable temperature. "Are you?"

"I am!" you tell him. "I feel so hot. Maybe we should take our clothes off and—"

"Hang on, darling," he cuts you off, and promptly stands. "I know what to do."

He heads somewhere for a few seconds before returning with a portable mini-fan.

"Do you want me to hold it for you? So your arm won't get tired?"

You blink at him. Honestly, you could cry. Whether because of his sweet gesture or because of how dense he is, you don't know.

"On second thought, Yoonie, I think I'm fine now."

"Are you sure? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry," you start to say, but then you realize you could use this opportunity as a final attempt. "Actually..."

Yoongi stares at you, waiting.

"...I'm not completely fine. I've been so stressed lately, you know?"

"From work?" he asks.

"Yeah. I think I need some stress relief..." You look him in the eye to get your point across. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There's a glint in Yoongi's eyes.

"I understand completely, darling."

Finally.

But wait.

Where is he going?

And what's that he's bringing?

"Aroma therapy," Yoongi tells you seriously, placing a diffuser near you and setting it up. "Essential oils are known to help with stress. Don't worry, darling, I've got you."

Of course, you sigh internally.

You should've known better than to beat around the bush with your blunt, straightforward husband.

You grab his hands.

"Yoonie! Stop it!"

"But the oils—"

"Forget the oils. I don't need aroma therapy, okay?"

He's genuinely confused. "But you said—"

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not too stressed out, alright? You don't need to worry. I just..."

"Just what?"

You grip his chin and bring his face closer.

"I just want you to fuck me."

It's out in the open now and your husband blinks at you for a few moments, before realization dawns on him and he smirks lazily at you.

"Why didn't you just say so?"

You shrug, smiling now that he finally gets it.

"Well," he grunts, "my boss just gave me orders. What should I do?"

You play along with him, wrapping your arms around his neck, making your lips hover just centimeters from his.

"I think you shouldn't make her wait any longer," you say cheekily. "And I think you shouldn't hold back on her tonight."

Yoongi sweeps you up in his arms, making you squeal.

"Be careful what you wish for, darling," he tells you in that deep voice of his and you feel your underwear dampen.

And without wasting any more time, Yoongi carries your horny ass to your shared bedroom where he fucks you all through the night.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[zenshyu]

☆ ͡ ݂  yeonjun x m!reader overworked: with choi yeonjun (최연준)

907 words | 001: your boyfriend, yeonjun, has been overworking himself lately. you catch him one night on a particularly bad day, comfort ensues. | 002: my first post! hurt/comfort, written in third person perspective. reader uses he/him pronouns, yeonjun is referred to as older and taller then the reader and i'm sorry if this isn't the best, i haven't written in a while! likes + reblogs appreciated <3

a sigh left y/n's lips as he walked into his apartment, placing his groceries on the counter as he began to relax. his head shot up in confusion and alert at the sound of running water in the hallway bathroom, y/n's lips pressing into a thin line as he didn't bother putting away any of the shopping and instead decided to investigate the noise. as he walked closer to the doorframe and gently pushed the door open slightly, where he was met with a familiar set of orange hair, his boyfriend, yeonjun. a quiet sigh of relief left his throat at that, relieved it was just yeonjun instead of an intruder or someone else. y/n had given his boyfriend a key one night a couple months ago when he'd had to go out of city for a work trip, and he wanted yeonjun to take care of his pets for him. "yeonjun, baby? what are you doing here?" y/n's gentle voice echoed in the bathroom, a hand reached out to touch yeonjun's shoulder and he jumped slightly, rubbing his eyes with wet hands to try and wake himself up from his exhaustion.

despite yeonjun's reluctance to look at y/n, in the mirror, y/n could still see the bags underneath his boyfriends eyes and the tear tracks that broke through his now ruined makeup. worry seeped into y/n's thoughts at the state of the boy in his apartment, he gently took yeonjun's hand into his own. "hey, what's wrong? did something happen at work, baby?" y/n softly whispered, taking a slow step closer towards the other as to not make him uncomfortable. "you can tell me, jjunie." he reassured, eyes finally meeting his boyfriends for the first time, gentle brown eyes filled with shame and hurt stared back at y/n's own. "i just.. i don't know." yeonjun finally stuttered back, voice dispirited and unfamiliar to y/n, his voice usually bright and sweet. "it's so hard, y/n." his tone quavering as he tried to hold back stutters, trying to make himself seem more stable then he actually was. "no matter how hard i work, n-no matter how much i try, it never- it never works." a few stutters managed to slip through, he broke y/n's gaze, looking down at the tiled floors of the apartment the pair stood in. "i just don't understand, all of my members have gotten the choreography perfect by now, why am i so awful? i've been working so hard." the sentence trailed off with a whine, a few stray tears beginning to fall down his soft cheeks, ruining whatever was left of the makeup from his schedules today.

y/n's brows furrowed, a frown gracing his lips as he gently pulled his boyfriend close. "baby, listen to me." he started, arms wrapping delicately around yeonjun's waist in an attempt to comfort him. "you're an amazing dancer, yeonjun. i'm sure your attempt at the choreography is just as amazing as the rest of your members', and i'm sure your members think the same thing." cautiously, a hand reached up and brushed a strand of red hair behind yeonjun's ear, a gentle and loving kiss pressed to his left cheek as tears continued to fall down them. "you work really hard, yeonjun. you deserve a break just as much as everyone else does, give yourself a rest, baby." whispered y/n, the red haired boy before him just continued to cry, no response could be heard to the others words as yeonjun buried his face into the crook of y/n's neck. long arms wrapped around y/n's upper torso, the bathroom fell momentarily silent as the pair just stood there relishing in the moment. hushed shhh's and quiet sobs were all that could be heard, yeonjun trembled and shook in y/n's hold, but y/n continued to hold him close.

"it's gonna be okay, my love.." y/n pressed a gentle kiss to yeonjuns forehead as the older pulled away from the embrace, tears beginning to clear up. "are you feeling better?" hesitating slightly, yeonjun nodded at his question, arms still wrapped around each other lovingly. "y-yes, thank you, y/n." he smiled through dried tears, eyes half lidded in exhaustion, halfway from crying and half from overworking himself. y/n chuckled affectionately at his boyfriend's tired expression. "i'll try to stop overworking myself." yeonjun spoke, his tone certain, as if he was certain he was going to stop this bad habit. y/n nodded at his words, letting out a quiet: "mhm." so that yeonjun knew he was listening, y/n's hand went up to gently caress yeonjun's cheek. "why didn't you just text me? was breaking into my apartment necessary?" his tone playful, not wanting yeonjun to think he was actually upset with him. the taller's gaze drifted towards the kitchen, before meeting back with y/n's eyes. "w-well, i planned to surprise you with dinner tonight." he stammered, embarrassed. "but then i.. i'm just so tired." yeonjun breathed, pressing his forehead against y/n's. "let's go have a rest, baby. you deserve one right now." y/n insisted, looking up at yeonjun. it didn't look like y/n was going to take no for an answer, yeonjun just nodded silently, too tired to argue. "maybe i can cook you dinner instead, after we have our rest."

y/n gently took yeonjuns hand, they cuddled up together on the couch with a movie that got forgotten mere moments after as yeonjun hastily fell asleep leaning on y/n's shoulder.

[bbgnyx]

Cheater

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

@straykidsholicleigh here it is!! finallyy. I'm sorry for the long waitt, I hope you like it because I did add a little twist to it, so it might not be exactly what you asked for. and I literally can't imagine hyunjin like this ahh T-T he's soo sweet actually so this is def not a depiction of him whatsoever

pairing: hyunjin x reader (pairing changed towards the end hehe)

genre: angst with little fluff/comfort at the end

warnings: cheating, hyunjin is rude, angst, reader almost gets hit by car(implied).

for asks view this post

It all began with his forgetfulness of small coffee dates, which then escalated to days without any communication from him. Hyunjin assured you that his busy schedule and late-night practices were the reasons behind it, and you trusted him completely, right?

Today marked your three-year anniversary, and you were eagerly looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend. To surprise him, you decided to show up at his practice with flowers and chocolates. Dressed in a cute outfit, you left the house and made your way to the building, hoping to find him there.

“Hey y/n, what are you doing here?” Han asked as he spotted you. “Just here to find Hyunjin, he is here, right?” you said raising an eyebrow. “No, he isn’t. He told us he’s going home and left early? He’s been leaving early for a few days now, he said you were sick?” Han said confusion showing on his face.

Holding back tears, you thanked Han and hurriedly left the building, feeling a mix of emotions. Why would Hyunjin lie to you? Above all, you wanted to know where he was and what he was doing at that moment. With a glimmer of hope, you imagined him at the supermarket, buying chocolates for you, but deep down, you knew it wasn't the truth.

You rushed to his apartment, gasping for breath as you arrived. As you raised your hand to knock, you hesitated and instead searched through your purse for the key card he had given you .He had given it to you as a symbol of your trust. You should have known it was too good to be true at that point itself

You swiped the card and went inside. At the entrance, a black coat was hung. It was not yours and it was definitely not Hyunjin’s. You went through the coat only to find a red lipstick in it. Uncontrollable tears streamed down your face as you clutched the lipstick in your hand, realizing the painful truth.

As the door swung open, a disheveled Hyunjin stood before you, his hair in disarray and traces of lipstick smudged on his lips. Your heart sank as you locked eyes with him, unable to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before you.

"What are you doing here?" Hyunjin's voice dripped with disdain as he avoided your gaze. The words caught in your throat, choked by tears, as you mustered the strength to confront him. Three years of love and dreams shattered in an instant, leaving you blindsided. "You're not even going to hide the fact that you're cheating on me?" you managed to utter, the pain evident in your voice.

Hyunjin's response was callous, devoid of any remorse. "Well, you found out. Now get the fuck out of my house," he spat, his indifference cutting through you like a knife. Bewildered, you stood there, desperately seeking an explanation. "Wow, I really loved the wrong person. You're not even going to give me the courtesy of an explanation?"

His nonchalant reply stung, as he dismissed your feelings with ease. "I don't have anything to explain. I fell in love, and it wasn't with you," he declared, his words laced with cruelty. "It was my mistake to ever love a clingy bitch like you. I only stayed with you out of pity. You should be grateful." The final blow struck deep, shattering any remnants of hope or love you had left.

Wiping away your tears, you mustered the strength to leave. "Enjoy your new girlfriend, and never contact me again," you declared, storming out of his life, determined to never look back.

The rain poured down, mirroring the turmoil within your heart. Lost in your thoughts, you ran aimlessly, oblivious to your surroundings. Suddenly you felt yourself being pulled harshly. It was Felix. Concern etched in his voice, he asked, “Are you okay? You would have almost been hit by a car because of your carelessness.

"H-Hyunjin cheated on me," you managed to choke out, unable to find the right words. Felix's eyes widened in shock, and he swiftly guided you to a nearby café, wrapping his jacket around you protectively. In that moment, you found solace in his presence, pouring your heart out to him Though not well-acquainted with Felix, he became the friend you needed in that moment, offering a shoulder to cry on.

You finished your rant, looking up into Felix's eyes. It was welcoming and full of love. You had never seen Hyunjin like that. You realised that Hyunjin never really loved you, but now these eyes showed you something different. Real love and passion.

taglist(message me if you wanna join): @straykidsholicleigh @luvyev

[vivalas-vega]

Hello again! It's Syd 🥰🩷

I sent an ask a few days ago but I just saw your post about sending more so here I am! (& good luck on your journey quitting vape, you got this!! 🩷)

Here's an idea:

(Could be with bob, nat, jake, roost, it's up to you really) Reader just got home from work and starts rambling about work gossip with her partner while getting undressed to take a shower. The partner stops paying attention to the story as she lifts her shirt and takes off her pants, ogling at the brand new set of lingerie they had never seen her wearing before.

Reader is busy walking around the room gathering her skin care products & pajamas while going off on a tangent about a particularly annoying coworker. Noticing her partner isn't responding, she playfully asks "are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?", finally turning to find her lover on the edge of the bed with a dreamy look on their slightly flushed face, reaching for her as they ask "is that a new set...?"

Could be just fluffy with a hint of suggestive or smutty😌 feel free to change it anyway you want it!

hello !!! thank you so much for sending this request in and I'm so sorry that it took me an unreasonable amount of time to post !!! but, my first Bob fic ! this just screamed Bob to me, I took some creative liberties but I hope I did your request justice!

focus / bob floyd x reader

word count: 1k (short and sweet!)

warnings: a little spicy at the end but otherwise pretty pg-13!

“Bob, you home?” you asked, shutting the front door behind you as you dropped your keys in the bowl and slipped out of your heels and coat. Excitement had been radiating throughout your body, threatening to rattle you apart from the inside out the entire drive home. You were sitting on a rather juicy piece of intel you’d been counting down the seconds to be able to share with your partner… the first and usually only person you told anything and everything.

“Bedroom, honey!” You heard him call out and you raced down the hallway, bursting into the room with sheer glee written all over your face. “Good day at work?” he asked, amusement creeping into his tone.

“No, not at all actually. Remember that case I’ve been working on I regretfully cannot tell you anything about? Client withheld something major and I spent the entirety of my day reworking the whole thing… after I’d just done that yesterday.”

“Then what has you so excited?” He watched as you took off your watch and earrings, delicately placing them in their respective homes atop your dresser. The book he’d been reading was abandoned the second he heard your voice echo throughout your shared home. If you were even remotely in his presence there was nothing else that could hold his focus, not that he would have wanted anything else to take precedence over you anyways.

“So, in the break room today I overheard something I definitely wasn’t supposed to, regarding a certain coworker and her husband.” you started, eyebrows raised as you watched the excitement on his face mirror your own as he shifted down the bed to listen with rapt attention.

“Please tell me this is about Denise,” he almost begged. This particular saga of workplace drama was a personal favorite of you two.

“Oh, is it ever. She was on the phone with her husband in very hushed tones arguing about the pick up and drop off schedule for their kids when she suddenly said ‘this has nothing to do with him’.” you continued, placing your blazer in the hamper.

“Him, as in the kids tutor, right?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Mmhm,” you confirmed. “But the real pièce de résistance of this story is who made an impromptu stop by the office today… with flowers.” You’d already discarded your silk camisole and were sliding your favorite slacks off… a beautiful shade of emerald green fitted perfectly to your body before flaring out and creating the illusion your legs were a mile long. They weren’t just your favorite though, and you were completely unaware of the way Bob’s eyes tracked their movement down your curves into their puddle on the floor where you bent over to pick them up and he suddenly felt as if the room had gotten warmer.

“Is that so?” he asked, while his attention was hung on your every word a few moments ago, if you’d asked him any follow up questions on what you’d just said he’d have no response… he was far more interested in the black lace adorning your body, particularly in the fact that it was unrecognizable to him.

“Mmhm,” you hummed again, still blind to the way your boyfriend was looking at you as you moved around the room, lost in your after-work routine of shedding your work persona before your shower. “It’s as if she’s unaware of the fact that we all know, or maybe she is aware and just doesn’t care. It’s incredibly ballsy. You know, I actually like her husband, of course I know nothing of their home life and I know better than anyone the public façade can be polar opposite from the reality behind closed doors but he does seem like one of the good ones.” You’d paused for his response, expecting agreement or a snarky quip but when you were met with silence you turned around to find his eyes far lower than you anticipated. “Bob? Are you even listening to me?” you asked, pretending to be annoyed but really you were anything but as you saw the lovesick look on his face.

His head snapped up, eyes wide like a man caught, “sorry sweetheart, I just… is this a new set?” he asked, swallowing harshly as his hands reached out and caught your hips, tugging you to stand in between his legs. He was looking up at you with pure adoration, the kind that knocked all the air from your lungs and rendered you almost speechless. Your first meeting by chance at the Hard Deck all those months ago had done nothing to prepare you for the man before you… timid glances and bashful smiles, earnest conversation and a chaste kiss to your cheek after walking you to your car. There was nothing timid or bashful about him now, nothing chaste about the way his fingers trailed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his eyes raked your form, fire burning within those blue eyes.

“It might be,” you teased, moving to straddle his thighs and his arms were quick to cage themselves around you, locking you in place and keeping you from falling backwards.

“And you expect me to give a damn about Denise when you’re parading around this room looking like this?” he asked, pressing kisses along the column of your neck.

You gripped his jaw, pulling his face back and forcing him to look at you. “You’re damn right I do.” you shot back, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid your beauty is a bit distracting.” he replied, pulling your hand away and kissing the inside of your wrist. “Besides… I think my attention would be better served elsewhere.” he added before continuing his path up your arm and to your collarbone where you couldn’t help but tilt your head back, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you agreed, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to press your lips to his. The previous topic was entirely forgotten now with your excitement channeled directly towards the man beneath you… the one person you wanted to share everything with and the one person who could make you gladly abandon anything and everything for.

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you, sorry!)

[justwritedreams]

Welcome to the Kingdom | Jeno

Chapter Eight: Hard to forget

Prince Jeno x Princess Reader, enemies to lovers au!, royalty au!

Word count: 3935

Genre: slight smut, kinda suggestive.

Warning: Mentions of fainting and erotic dream again (fingering) MDI PLEASE IT'S +18 STORY!

Author: Maari

Note: Well, fucking finally it's here. If I forgot someone on the taglist please let me know! No proofread because yeah I wanted to post as soon as possible, sorry.

Summary: Things start to heat up… but not just for the princess.

<<<Previous | Masterlist | Next >>>

Taglist: @floweronacloud, @cookydream, @travelleratheart101​, @ilvaussie​, @tyongf-sunflower99​, @mings-cafe​,  @n0hyuck, @waltermitty97, @jihoonismydad, @madaboutjunmyeon, @actually-vl , @neomooniez

That day started off hot for Y/N.

Literally she was on fire, that's why after trying to go back to sleep without being haunted by the scenes from the previous night's dream, she decided to take a cold shower.

It eased some of the heat she felt between her legs and had washed away any kind of remnant of her… dirty secret.

The princess wore a pastel yellow ensemble, the top left her shoulders showing as the sleeves were dropped, the high-waisted skirt and white shoes.

It was a great day to wear fresh clothes for breakfast since it was going to be in the garden of the Lee family castle.

As soon as she left the room, the queen passed in the hallway and smiled welcomingly at the princess who reciprocated.

"Y/N, good morning!" the queen approached.

"Good morning!" she greeted and discreetly repaired the queen's outfit.

Much more elegant in a blue tone, the hat she wore indicated that she wouldn't stay that long for breakfast with the Lee family.

"You look beautiful!" The princess spoke, seeing the queen smile in thanks and run her hand over the back of her neck.

"Am I not visibly tired?" she asked, seeing the princess shake her head in confusion. "I barely slept last night, I'm so tired and it's so hot. I feel like I'm going to melt before I even start my schedule today."

The princess laughed, but sympathized. Mainly because she hadn't slept well either.

Okay, the reasons weren't quite the same.

But very soon she would be the next one with a busy schedule.

"No, you look radiant actually." The princess assured, seeing the queen frown and look at a fixed point on the wall.

"Why don't you come with me?" the queen suggested, leaving Y/N speechless. "I think it would be great to-"

Y/N was ready to try and argue when she saw the queen stagger back and forth, looking a little dizzy. The princess raised her arms to help her and before she could ask what was going on the queen fell backwards and without thinking twice Y/N held her to stop her from hitting the ground hard.

With the strength of the queen's body, the princess ended up tripping over her own feet and when fell to the ground she hit her knee, she complained of pain but seeing that the queen was unconscious, she panicked

"Queen! My God, wake up." She tried to shake the older one who was lying in her arms. "Someone help!" she spoke louder, looking out into the hallways that seemed emptier than usual.

Y/N didn't know if she should pat the queen's face and that's when she heard hurried footsteps in the hallway.

"Hey, here. Help!" She spoke once more and her jaw dropped when saw Jeno walking faster, practically running towards them, behind him came some servants.

"What happened?" he asked as he reached down to help Y/N hold the queen, visibly worried.

"I don't know, she fainted all of a sudden. We were just talking normally." she explained and Jeno nodded in agreement before cradling the queen in his arms and lifting with her as if she weighed the same as a feather.

"Open the door." he nodded towards Y/N's room and she did so hastily.

Jeno entered the room carrying the queen and the princess looked at the servants.

"Call a doctor and let Tae- the king know." she ordered and the servants nodded in agreement before leaving.

Y/N entered the room and Jeno had already placed the queen on the princess's bed.

"Was it sudden?" He asked, looking at Y/N who nodded her head.

"She looked a little dizzy and before I could say anything, she fell over." she explained.

The two turned their attention to the queen as she began to regain consciousness.

"Oh, damn it!" She held her head, the hat was still on her head and yet she looked elegant. "What happened?" She asked, seeing the two staring at her.

"You passed out." The princess replied.

"It's the heat." she spoke and tried to get up from the bed but was stopped by Jeno.

"You're not getting out of bed until the doctor sees how you are." he spoke firmly and she looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?!" Jeno pushed her shoulder lightly to lay back on the bed again, she did but clearly unwilling. "I'm the queen here!"

"And you're also my sister-in-law, remember what that means? My brother ordered me to take care of you, so lie down and be quiet."

Y/N tried to contain her surprise at hearing Jeno's voice so dominant, she didn't want to focus on the shivers it caused her but Jeno was being so considerate. A little bossy, but he looked concerned as if the queen really was his sister.

The queen looked at Y/N who just shrugged in response, it wasn't like she could do anything or that she was actually going to do anything.

For the first time, she completely agreed with Jeno. She wouldn't argue or object.

"How do you feel?" Jeno asked for a while in silence and the queen crossed her arms, taking off her perfect hairstyle hat she wore, visibly sweating.

"Other than annoyed that you're making me late?" The princess saw Jeno roll his eyes, clearly not caring about that detail. "The dizziness has gone, I'm a little nauseous…" Jeno opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "But it's not a big deal, it's because I haven't had breakfast yet. Just that."

"I'll open the windows." Y/N warned before moving away from the queen and going to the windows and opening them as much as she could, as well as the curtains.

While Jeno analyzed the queen waving her own hand against her face, trying to somehow create even the smallest amount of wind, the princess analyzed Jeno.

He looked really worried and that was surprising to her because she could see that Jeno had a heart.

He could act like that more often, he looked so much better not being a complete idiot.

The princess blinked a few times as she realized that she was going into a trance at the thought of him and luckily, one of the servants brought the doctor.

Jeno and Y/N gave space for the doctor to approach, the prince crossed his arms as he stopped beside Y/N, who, without having to deviate, watched his arm get bigger  with the movement.

Involuntarily, the princess wet her own lips with her tongue and bit the skin, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Though no one knew what she'd done at dawn, it wasn't like her own head was going to forget.

As hard as she was trying as hard as she could, the image of Jeno touching her was still fresh in her head.

Enough for the legs to take on a life of their own and rub themselves, when she realized what she started to do Y/N widened her eyes and crossed her arms, bringing one hand to her burning cheek.

For God's sake, she was in front of people.

In front of Jeno!

She couldn't remember her wild dreams of him, not at this time of the morning.

Therefore, she took a deep breath and tried to focus on what the doctor was asking the queen and it was a rather difficult task because Y/N felt Jeno's perfume invade her nostrils, his heat attracted her in a way as if it were magic.

Trying to push all thoughts away, she shook her head and heard the doctor ask the queen when was the last time she had her period.

The queen's answer was a little uncertain and Y/N looked at Jeno at the exact moment he turned to face her, if they were in a cartoon a lightbulb would light up over their heads.

Wait a moment…

"Majesty, by the symptoms you’re pregnant." The doctor spoke and the queen dropped her mouth in sheer shock.

As Jeno grinned and Y/N stared at him with a frown, she had felt something strange seeing him smile that way.

As if her stomach had turned in a way… not so bad.

Before they could say anything, Taeyong hurried into the room, in pure desperation. Going to the wife, hold her hand as he asked the doctor what had happened.

Y/N smiled before the doctor could answer, and when he assured Taeyong his face went from confusion to elation within seconds.

"What?" Was all he said.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty. A baby is on the way."

Taeyong laughed, turning to face the queen who was crying with joy and waiting for her husband's reaction.

The princess felt her heart warm when she saw Taeyong hug the queen tightly and thank her tirelessly, both seemed overjoyed with the news and she was so lost in their moment that she didn't even notice Jeno touch her waist. When she turned to face him, he nodded for them to get out of there, she nodded silently and the two left the room, leaving the new parents to enjoy the moment alone.

They both walked in silence through the castle, Y/N felt her knee hurt but was so happy with the news that she could ignore it.

"I'm going to be an uncle!" Jeno spoke ecstatically and the princess smiled slightly.

She had never seen him speak with such euphoria, it suited him.

"Congratulations! I've always wanted a nephew but being an only child…" the princess trailed off as she shrugged.

She loved children, she always felt lonely in her childhood because she didn't have siblings and even if she had some cousins it wasn't the same. But having a nephew would be so cool, in her eyes.

Jeno stared at her, seeing her keep her gaze on the hallway.

"Well, technically my nephews will be yours, so you'll be an aunt too." He remembered and Y/N looked at him in surprise.

She hadn't even thought about that possibility. Of course, they would get married but she hadn't thought about the bonds she would end up creating with Jeno's family, even if that was inevitable.

The princess smiled slightly as she stared at him, he didn't seem petulant at all, in fact he even seemed happy with the realization. It was as if he was content to share the title with Y/N.

For the first time, she didn't feel the need to respond and turned her head to continue looking down the long corridor as she felt lightness, as if a truce had been established between the two of them.

And it wasn't bad, not as she had imagined it for so long, quite the opposite actually.

"What happened to your leg?" Jeno asked, curious to see the princess limping.

She blinked back to reality a few times and looked down at her legs, remembering the queen's fall.

"Oh I ended up hitting my knee on the floor when I grabbed her." She pointed backwards quickly and Jeno stared at her legs once more.

Y/N raised her eyebrows and was about to ask why he didn't stop staring when Jeno walked over to grab her by the wrist and pull her towards a door at the end of the hall.

"What are you doing?" She asked, confused and even tried to undo Jeno's grip to no avail, of course.

"It's bleeding." He answered simply and Y/N lowered her head to try to get a better look at her knee, being led by Jeno.

Damn, she was really bleeding. Not much, but still

Jeno opened the door to the room and Y/N only lifted her head to look when she caught an extremely familiar scent.

She wasn't surprised to find that this was Jeno's room, the whole room screamed his personality and smelled too intensely of him.

And well, he'd said his room was at the end of the hall… it wasn't like he was going to take her to one of his brothers' rooms.

"Sit down." He pointed to the big bed and Y/N rested her hands on her hips as she watched him walk to another door, probably the bathroom. Jeno stopped to look at her steadily. "I won't ask again."

Y/N rolled her eyes before plopping down on the soft mattress. There he was again, the bossy Jeno.

She waited impatiently for him to return with a first-aid kit and grimaced.

"You're overreacting, you know." She spoke, lifting her chin to maintain her pose.

Jeno just raised an eyebrow and knelt down without taking his eyes off the princess, who faltered for a few seconds. He placed the first aid box on the floor beside him and placed his hands on the inside of Y/N's knees and slowly pushed them away.

She bit back a grunt and bit her tongue to keep from showing the shock she felt.

Why was he staring at her so intently? And why was his hand running down her exposed skin so gently?

Y/N took a deep breath when Jeno stretched out her leg and he looked away to find what he wanted in the first aid box.

He was doing it on purpose, she was sure.

She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying not to let her mind flood with memories of the dream she'd had.

Of Jeno's hot, hungry hands touching her in the most intimate way.

When Jeno dabbed the wet cotton on Y/N's injured knee, she cleared her throat before looking back at him intently.

His attention was on her knee as one hand cleaned the wound, the other hand gripped Y/N's leg firmly but not in a possessive way. It was even mild considering the size of his muscles.

Y/N could see concern on Jeno's face and narrowed her eyes, there was no reason for him to pretend so she believed he was being sincere. At the moment.

They were silent the whole time he was treating the wound, the princess wanted to understand why he was doing that. It wasn't necessary, not only could she do it herself, she knew how.

As soon as Jeno finished with the cotton and discarded it on the floor, she was ready to get up from the bed but was stopped by Jeno's other hand that held her knee and Y/N had to hold her breath when he blew lightly on the wound.

She had to hold the sheet tighter than necessary because seeing him in that position was creating certain scenarios in her head that should have remained dormant.

All because of that pathetic sex dream.

When Y/N felt her belly squirm internally, she shifted in bed.

"Alright, that's good, Jeno!" She spoke, her voice cracking as she said his name.

"Are you sure?" He just directed his eyes to hers, without changing position or taking his hands away. "There's an ointment that's great for pain…"

"No." She spoke too fast, unable to stop thinking about Jeno's finger caressing her skin with the task of applying the ointment, awkwardly getting out of bed she made Jeno move away but without getting up. "No need, I…" the princess gulped when she saw that Jeno could have a great view under her skirt in the position he was. "I’m fine." She spoke quickly and she was sure Jeno caught a glimpse of her panties as she practically jumped over the prince's body but she didn't want him to see that her cheeks were burning with shyness.

Even if it meant him seeing practically her puss...

"Thank you, Jeno." That was what she managed to say before she left the room quickly, without slamming the door and without seeing Jeno smiling sideways, ruffling his hair when he saw the disconcerted princess.

It was because of him, and she couldn't even deny it.

[...]

It was night, the castle was dark and silent, Jeno didn't know why he was heading towards the library but something was calling him there.

He didn't need light because he knew those corridors very well, his eyesight was used to the pitch black.

He entered the library in silence and searched the room for what had called him there, the corners of his mouth lifting at the sight of what it was.

Or rather, who it was.

Y/N was on her back, looking for a book on the highest shelf and didn't even notice that he was going there.

He looked her up and down, but the long black cloth she was wearing was preventing him from looking at her beautiful body and it frustrated him enough that the sound that escaped his teeth echoed through the room, making Y/N look back in a bit of surprise.

But she didn't seem too shocked to see Jeno there, in fact she even smiled slightly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, quietly, clasping her hands together.

"I think you know, princess." He answered in the same tone, low and sensual.

"Came to read. Just like me." She blinked slowly, making him lose himself in the movement so innocently.

It was enough for his hands to itch to touch her waist.

"Yes." He nodded, taking a large step towards her without taking his eyes off the princess's. "I came to read." he bit down on his bottom lip, drawing the princess's attention who she stared at as if she were hypnotized.

Jeno kept getting closer and when she was close enough, he rested both hands on the bookcase, beside Y/N's body, propelled his body enough to bring his face closer to hers. The princess's eyes were lost in Jeno's lips and she was breathing hard.

"I came to read every inch of your body." He spoke softly and Y/N shivered, but firmly stared Jeno in the eyes.

She only found fire and desire.

He moved a little closer, his face millimeters from hers, Y/N already felt their breaths mingling together.

"Jeno." She didn't even have the strength to call out to him, her voice weaker than a whisper.

"If you want me to stop, you'll stop me." their noses touched slightly and Y/N's hands reached up to touch him but stopped in their tracks, making him laugh.

He took the opportunity to hold one of the princess's wrists with one hand and took her to his torso..

"You can touch it if you want, it's all yours."

He spoke before touching their lips in a thirsty and messy kiss, Jeno wanted to explore every inch of Y/N's mouth in a short time but it was still hot, all she did was take her hands from his torso to his neck, trying somehow to find balance because the legs were already weak.

That made her bring him closer and he let go of the bookshelf to grip her waist tightly, wanting to make sure she didn't get out of there too soon.

The kiss became faster and wetter as their tongues mingled, it wasn't a struggle for dominance, it was an insatiable thirst for each other's taste.

Everything became more accelerated, hands and lips began to explore parts of the body that asked for a touch, when Jeno noticed, Y/N was already sitting on the reading table with her legs wrapped around his hips but there was something bothering Jeno and it was the thick, oversized coat the princess wore.

It was preventing him from touching her the way he wanted.

And then in the blink of an eye the coat was away from her body, lying on the floor, as Jeno admired what she wore underneath.

Or rather, what she barely used.

A set of light blue panties and bra, which designed the princess's bust very well, the top part of the fabric still extended to the middle of her thighs and when following the fabric, he saw that the panties had straps tied around Y/N’s waist.

She looked like an angel.

Jeno looked at her and saw that the princess was smiling maliciously, leaning her elbows on the table and giving permission for him to have free access.

"With that little angel face, no one can guess that you're a naughty one."

She bit her lip, stifling her laughter.

"Only you."

It was Jeno's turn to smile as he brought his hands up to caress her thighs.

"And you want to know why, princess?" He asked quietly, bringing his fingertips to her navel, feeling her skin crawl and heard her sigh. "Because you know that deep down we are the same." He played with the straps of her panties and looked at Y/N who pleaded with her eyes for him to stop the torture. "Made for each other."

"And what do you intend to do?" she asked quietly.

Jeno smiled widely.

"For now?" his fingers went towards the waistband of her panties, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "Make you scream."

Jeno's fingers found the intimacy of Y/N who moaned at the same time, a sound that echoed through the library and followed like music to the prince's ears.

He was losing himself in the heat of her, it felt like he was going to erupt every time his fingers went in and out of the hot, wet flesh, it was so delicious and it was making his head spin with pleasure. Y/N was thrown back with her head drunk with pleasure because of him.

And he knew she was so close, he could feel the sweat dripping by his back and his fingers getting wetter while collecting the liquid that came out of Y/N's body.…

"Jeno!" The princess instantly opened her eyes and glanced at Jeno, who was turning to face the closed door with a raised eyebrow.

He knew that voice.

"Jeno, are you there?" he wanted to laugh, it would sound sadistic but it was funny.

He looked back at Y/N who was staring at him desperately.

"Yes Mark?" He spoke loudly and then increased the speed of the fingers that entered and left Y/N, making her bring her hands to her mouth in order to muffle the loud moans.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Perfectly!" In fact, all he could hear was the delicious sound of fingers inside Y/N's intimacy. She was driving him crazy.

"Then come on, Taeyong is waiting for you to play golf."

Jeno this time frowned. Golf? That time of night? But the games were always in the morning and…

It was then that he saw Y/N squirm in pleasure as the room grew darker, he even heard the scream of orgasm that hit her before opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling of the room.

Panting, Jeno looked to the side and could see what he didn't want.

It had just been a dream.

"Hurry up, Jeno!" But Mark's voice knocking on the door was real.

Enough to wake him up in the best part of the dream.

"Give me 5 minutes." he spoke loudly and heard his brother snort but agreed.

Jeno ran his hands over his face and hair, taking a deep breath and felt something hard.

He threw the covers away from his body and got out of bed completely frustrated and excited, heading towards the bathroom.

He would need more than 5 minutes.

[lucy90712]

hey can u write angst with fermin?

I moved to Barcelona a few months ago but I've been so busy that I've barely explored the city my days have consisted of going to classes then going to my internship with a big law firm and then on the weekends I'm also at my internship as I truly want to learn as much as possible about what it's like to be a lawyer. Today however I actually have a day off so I'm going to explore all the tourist attractions in Barcelona and take in the city I now live in. My friends and coworkers have given me recommendations so my schedule is packed today but that's how I like things to be I love being busy. 

The first places I was told to visit was camp nou and the Barcelona training ground so that's where I went. I'm not hugely into football because my ex from a few years ago used to play and we broke up because he wanted to focus on his playing career so I’ve avoided football as not to be reminded of that time. As much as he has put me off football I feel like being here is as good a reason as any to get back into it seeing as the football team is so important to the city. My plan was to just look around as much as I was allowed to but when I arrived at the stadium they were doing tours so I took the opportunity to have a guided tour. The whole place was so cool and they had so many trophies and pictures from history and they had pictures of all the players now most of which I didn't recognise but there was a few that my friends had mentioned to me. 

After the tour I was really hungry as the tour took longer than expected so I found a little cafe nearby to stop at. Luckily it wasn't too busy there was only a few people in there and then one guy came in after me. Once I ordered I looked at the guy who walked in behind me and if I had my drink I would've spit it out because I recognised him straight away as one of the Barcelona players on the wall. I couldn't remember which one he was so I frantically searched Instagram then found out his name was Gavi which is one of the players my friends have mentioned as they think he's hot. I can't lie he's definitely attractive but he's a famous footballer so I'll just admire him from a distance. I was minding my own business until Gavi moved closer to me and started talking to me. 

"Hi I'm Pablo sorry to disturb you it's just you're so beautiful but I don't recognise you have you recently moved here?" He asked 

"Hey I'm y/n I moved here a few months ago but this is my first free day to explore" I said trying not to freak out 

"Well I'm glad you chose to come here can I get your number or your Instagram or something and maybe I can show you around at some point" he said 

I gave him my number and my Instagram and then we both went on our way. 

Fermin's POV 

Gavi came into the locker room with the coffee he always gets us both before training but this time he had a big smile on his face bigger than usual. Something had definitely happened before he got here and if I had to guess I think he met a girl that he likes because he has the same smile as the one other time this happened but sadly things didn't work out with his ex. 

"What happened at the coffee shop did you meet a girl" I teased him 

"I did her name is y/n and god she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen" he said 

That name brought back memories as my ex was named y/n. We dated a few years ago now and I broke up with her because I wanted to focus on football but I can't lie I have missed her a lot over the last few years. One of my biggest regrets is breaking things off with her as she was a lovely girl, smart and beautiful but I imagine she has probably almost forgotten about my existence in the three years we've been broke up. 

"Here's her Instagram isn't she just so beautiful I want to ask her on a date I just need to figure out what she would like" he said showing me his phone 

Instantly I recognised the girl as my y/n. From her posts it's clear that she's moved here for law school and has been working with the biggest law firm in the city which doesn't surprise me at all because she's the smartest person I know. She's also had a major glow up she was gorgeous before but now she might be perfect. I wanted to tell Gavi to back off because she was my ex and I still love her but I can't do that to him or her I can't stop them being happy just because I made a stupid decision. Still I think he should know that we used to date so that I'm not hiding things from him especially if she tells him at some point. 

"Oh I know her from back home we dated for a few months but I broke up with her to focus on football" I admitted 

"Oh I didn't know you had an ex from back home" he said 

"Yeah but it was three years ago so don't worry about it she will have had other boyfriends in the mean time don't let me stop you if you like her" I said trying to sound genuine but it hurt to say 

"Thanks man I'm just hoping she doesn't have a boyfriend right now" he joked 

~~~~~~~~~

3 weeks later 

I've been sat in my car for the last few minutes waiting for Gavi as we are spending the afternoon at my place playing fifa. I saw him approach the car and he had a big smile on his face which he often does but his smile seemed bigger than usual. He sat in the passenger seat still grinning ear to ear which means that something has happened that he's excited about. 

"What's going on with you you never smile that much" I said 

"I went on my first date with y/n last night and it was amazing and she just text me asking if I'm free tomorrow to go on another date" he said 

"That's great man I'm happy for you" I lied 

Secretly I was hoping things wouldn't work out between them and they wouldn't get past the talking stage but that was foolish of me. Y/n is a great girl and impossible not to love and Gavi is a good guy too deep down I knew that they would get along really well but part of me hoped it wouldn't be the case. I want to see Gavi happy but it hurts that it's with the girl I'm still in love with. Don't get me wrong I knew y/n would move on but I thought it would be with someone back home not my teammate and best friend but that's probably what I deserve for breaking up with her for purely selfish reasons knowing it would hurt her. 

For the rest of the day Gavi didn't stop talking about y/n and how well they get on. He showed me pictures from their date and told me all about the messages they sent to each other. All I was listening to was the stories she told him about her life since I last spoke to her. Just like I thought she would she's turned out to be incredibly successful she always wanted to be a lawyer and now she's here studying law with a full scholarship and an internship with the best law firm in the city who have already got a contract ready for her once she passes the exam to be able to practice law. When we were together she was always focused on studying and being the best she could be and she always wanted to do the things she's doing now and I promised I'd be right there with her when she did but instead I'm hearing about it from my best friend instead. 

~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later 

It has been a long season but a successful one ending with winning the league which feels amazing. To celebrate we are all having a team party at Robert's house all the team and their partners are invited as they've been through the stress of the season with us all. The party started an hour ago which is when everyone was supposed to arrive by but Gavi is yet to turn up. A few of us have text him but got no answer so naturally we started to worry but just as Pedri was about to call someone to see if they knew where he was he arrived with y/n. They have been together officially for 10 months now but she never comes to team events as she's often too busy and Gavi says she doesn't like being around loads of new people which I knew already so it doesn't surprise me. She was clearly nervous as she was hiding behind Gavi and I could tell he was squeezing her hand even from a distance. 

"I'm so sorry we're late guys y/n had her graduation this morning and I insisted we go out to lunch with her family to celebrate so it's my fault" gavi explained 

"Congrats y/n" Robert said 

"I thought you had another year left" Pedri said 

"I did but I managed to graduate early as I've done all of my required classes" she explained 

"Thats amazing well done" Pedri said 

The two of them joined the party not leaving each other's side for a while until y/n came to sit down in the only empty seat which happened to be next to me. We've seen each other a few times in the time she's been dating Gavi but not exchanged anything other than a few words. She never seems bothered by me being around its clear that she doesn't have any feelings towards me anymore like I do for her. I wish I could get over her the way she got over me but I can't because I know it's all my fault. 

"Hey congrats on your graduation I always knew you'd be super successful" I said talking to her for the for time since we broke up

"Thank you it's been hard work but completely worth it" she said

"How have you been by the way?" She asked 

"I've been good things have been good with the team I'm enjoying playing at Barcelona" I said avoiding the topic of my love life 

"How about you?" I asked 

"I've been great life has been treating me well I've got a good job lined up and Pablo has been helping me through everything thank you for not being weird about us being together I know you guys are friends and I promise it wasn't my intention to date one of your friends because I'd hate to get between you two" she said 

"It's ok I wouldn't want to get between anything if you guys like each other it's not my place to get in the way of that it's been long enough since we were together it doesn't matter anymore" I said 

"Still I appreciate how cool you've been with it all" she said getting back up to go and find Gavi

I thought talking to her would make me feel better and I could move on and let her and Gavi be happy while I find someone else but that didn't happen. It just made me wish I could be the one to celebrate all of these things with her I would've loved to have been there at her graduation or be one of the people she called about getting the job she wanted but I'm not that person to her anymore. She used call me first when she got grades back on any exam she took and now I don’t even make the list of people to tell at all and that hurts even if it is because of my actions. 

~~~~~~~~~~

A few years later 

The venue was filled with amazing decorations and people there to celebrate the special day the day that should be a happy one for everyone attending but not for me. Today is the day y/n and Gavi get married this date has been planned for months and I've been trying to ignore it hoping it would go away but here we are. Over the last few years their relationship has blossomed I secretly hoped that they wouldn't last but deep down I knew they were meant for each other. They've done everything together and if I wasn't still in love with y/n I'd admire their relationship and how perfect it is but I can't get over my feelings. 

I still remember the day Gavi announced that they were engaged, over our summer break they went away together and he proposed to her on a private beach during the sunrise with a beautiful ring and a bouquet of her favourite flowers. Everyone else was so happy for them but I just sat in the corner of the locker room thinking about how that could've been me and how I let her go. The wedding quickly became the talk of the locker room especially once a date was decided and invites were sent out it was supposed to be a perfect day and so far it has been. 

Soon enough everyone was seated and music began to play as everyone entered the venue at the end of the train y/n walked down the aisle with her dad. She looked like an angel her dress was pretty much moulded to her body and her makeup was just perfect. You could've told me she was a model and I would've beloved you she looked that amazing. She had a big smile on her face as she saw Gavi at the other end of the aisle with tears in his eyes which reminded me that I'm just here as a guest and she's not smiling at me. As the ceremony went on their smiles only got bigger and then it got to the part where they say their vows and there I wasn't a dry eye in the room. Most were crying because of how beautiful the words were but I was crying because I was thinking about what I would've said to her or what she would've said to me if it were us in this situation. 

Once the ceremony was over I had to find somewhere else to go to get myself together I thought I'd be ok and I would be over my feelings by now but I guess I'm not. If only I'd been brave enough to stay with her when I wanted to focus on football this could've been us. She could've moved to Barcelona with me and then she wouldn't have met Gavi that day in the cafe and who knows where we would've been. It doesn't matter what could've been because it's not going to happen it's time to accept that she will never be mine again and be happy for her and Gavi as they start a life together. 

[ggukkiedae]

booked and busy

date: early august 2018

warning/s: none

notes from c: yoonmi gets booked and busy with the album release, their tour, and the new drama she’s filming! ctto for the gif, it’s not mine i found it on pinterest

SURPRISE GUYS I'M BACK 🥰 joon, chimc tae, and kookie went live today and we caught the tiniest glimpse of bald kookie sooooo i thought it was about time i start posting again 🥰 will have something related to the other six tannies' enlistments up later this month

word count: 2.4k

yoonmi gets validation from tae and a dance partner for the tour

Yoonmi barely processed Taehyung’s question as she quickly did reruns of her lines, script in her hands, track open on her monitor, and untouched lunch box on the table behind her. It had been weeks since she started filming for SKY Castle, and, because of how busy she’d be with touring, the crew was trying to get as many of her scenes for the first half of the series over with.

To her luck, the cast and crew were all friendly enough to help her out. There was no doubt about there being hesitation when it came to everyone approaching her at first, but they had speedily warmed up to her, especially the fellow younger half of actors and actresses that she’d be spending most of her time filming with.

However, everything was overlapping with each other. That is, her schedule for the drama and their comeback preparation. There were still a few finishing touches she needed to add to a concert version of the tracks, approvals to go through with the rest of rap line and the production team, and the choreography to complete with her performance team and to teach her dancers. Not to mention she still had to find someone (a trainee, says the company) to be her dance partner for her solo stage on their tour. It’s not like she could take Yeonjun with her since he’d be preparing for debut while they’re on tour. And the tour!

She could practically feel her body hurting from the amount of plane rides she’d have to take going from place to place while performing on stage or fulfilling her role.

“Hey,” Taehyung knocked on her head, pulling her out of her thoughts, “earth to Yoonmi. One task at a time, yeah? I suggest you eat first before continuing anything. Unless you want Jin hyung to be upset you didn’t eat the food he prepared for you.”

She shook her head but closed her script and turned to him, only to find him uncovering her food. “Were you here this whole time?”

“I’ve been watching you mutter lines to yourself for like fifteen minutes now.” He held a piece of meat up to her mouth with chopsticks. “Now, eat.”

She rolled her eyes but ate the piece and grabbed a pair of chopsticks for herself.

This had been how things were for the past few weeks. Whenever she’d be in the company for any of the three main meals of the day, Seokjin or Taehyung would always drop by and make sure she was eating her meals. If she was on the set, they’d call her or call manager Sejin who’d be with her. Hoseok and Namjoon would make her take breaks, while Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi would always convince her (or wrestle, in Jungkook and sometimes Jimin’s case) to bed. It was some weird cycle they had established.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, aegi,” Taehyung pretended to scold while hitting her head with a spoon (thank God it was clean). “You get way too into your work, so you know we have to check in on you.”

“And how’d you know I was thinking about this weird set of roles you guys formed?”

“Because I know you. How’s filming going?”

“It’s going great, actually,” she smiled at him. “Everyone’s friendly, and the guy playing my twin brother is an idol, too! It’s funny when we met because he’s my sunbae for acting, but I’m his sunbae for idol life. The role is pretty easy to fulfill, and the plot is really intriguing.”

“As intriguing as me being killed by my brother by accident?”

“Intriguing in different ways,” she laughed before they fell to a silence. It was a whole ten minutes before she spoke up again, “Oppa, do you think this was a bad idea?”

Taehyung looked at her questioningly, making her sigh.

“I mean,” she leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees, “with the tour happening, do you think it was a bad idea to take this acting gig?”

“Personally, yeah,” Taehyung shrugged, making Yoonmi look at him in slight offense. “What, you asked! I’m just saying, as someone who literally helped raise you, I don’t like the idea of you balancing working on music and academics while jetting back and forth between Korea and whatever country we’re performing in and tiring yourself out to the point of passing out. Because I already know that it’s bound to happen at some point.”

She looked down, leaning back and biting into the cookie one of the members had given her at some point. Taehyung looked at her, already knowing the look on her face being one that could lead to her spiralling. He sighed, hating the fact that, no matter what the members and her friends and family told her, she always put others’ opinions of her before her own wants and needs.

“Hey,” Taehyung nudged her arm, “but, as an artist, I think it’s a great idea.”

This perked her up. “You think so?”

“It’s a great opportunity to show more sides of yourself that the public doesn’t really know,” he nodded. “Show them you’re not just an idol or a kid, but something more as well. I know you’re great at anything you put your mind to, except maybe drawing.”

She laughed and hit his arm.

Taehyung laughed with her. “No, yeah. Leave that area of expertise to Jungkook. I’m just saying, it’s a great opportunity for you to break out of whatever stereotypes or prejudices people have against you.”

“So, as my big brother, you say no. As my sunbae, you say yes. Internal conflict of interests, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” he snorted before tapping her knee and looking her in the eye, “but I have to remind you, because your reaction to what I said earlier tells me that you haven’t let it settle in your head. You can’t let what other people think about you discourage you, right?”

She huffed and crossed her arms before looking away. “It’s a little hard when I need to improve myself.”

“But at what cost? Your mental state? Cancelled opportunities? Why let other people’s opinions on you matter more than your own thoughts or opinions of yourself.”

“Because if I let my opinion of myself get to me more than what you guys think about me, I’d probably shrivel up in a hole, you know?”

The joking tone of her voice didn’t carry into the atmosphere of the room. Taehyung just looked at her. He knew that she, despite her proudly speaking her opinion and telling other people to be confident in themselves, is way too insecure for his and the rest of the group’s comfort. It was one of the many reasons that they always went out of their way to baby her and praise her.

It was at times like these, moments where she puts her thoughts on the table and curls into herself, where she looks young. Younger than she actually is. The girl in front of him was sixteen, turning seventeen, eighteen if you use Korean years. Yet, all he could see was the nervous preteen he met years ago.

“You do know you teach other people to love themselves, right?” he asked her.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” she shrugged, making him chuckle.

“We’re just gonna have to rub that into you until you do as you say, too. Wanna talk about it more?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. It’s almost three, and I have to head to the practice room to meet my dance partner for my solo song.”

“Why didn’t you just get one of us?”

“Well, I wanted to, but the company said that it would cut into the rest times of literally any of you, plus, Jungkook oppa was the original plan, but Euphoria and Why are right after each other.”

Taehyung wrinkled his nose but nodded and ruffled her hair. “Alright, let’s clean up, then I can drop you off before I got to my vocal session.”

“I am a mess,” Yoonmi muttered to herself as soon as she walked into the practice room. The reason being manager Sejin stepping in front of her and bringing down his sleeve over his hand to wipe crumbs off of her chin.

“Because you’re stressed out,” he shook his head at her, “so Namjoon and I cleared your schedule for the weekend. I also took the liberty of choosing your dance partner for you, and I think you’ll be okay with him.”

“As okay as I’d have been with Yeonjun oppa?”

“Not as much,” Sejin chuckled at her, “but I’ve seen you talk to Heeseung every now and then, so maybe?”

At the familiar name, she looked behind Sejin and saw the familiar face of the trainee she tended to run into late at night in the company. Heeseung was someone she did try to be more casual with ever since Yeonjun told her they were the same age. It was something she did try to do ever since Jimin and Taehyung had sat her down to tell to be more social with kids her age. She shook her head in amusement while hearing Jimin’s voice saying “Our aegi should spend more time being a kid with other kids!”

Back to the situation at hand, she thanked Sejin and walked to the other side of the room where Heeseung was giving her an awkward smile. It was something she was used to seeing from the trainees whenever they passed by her. The quick bow in greeting completed the experience.

“No need for that, Heeseung, I’ve told you that a billion times,” she laughed while putting a hand on his shoulder to straighten him up. “So you’re my dance partner?”

“Only if you’re okay with that,” he looked at her bashfully.

She laughed a bit and nodded, “Yeah, no biggie. Have you seen the videos?”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he began after nodding, “I was wondering why it isn’t Jungkook sunbaenim dancing with you like in the video?”

“The setlist has his song and my song right after each other,” she shrugged. “Are you okay if we practice until around nine? There will be breaks of course, but we don’t have to if it cuts into your training time.”

He shakes his head and smiles at her. “Sounds good. The instructors let me off with the condition of doing well for your tour and shadowing you sunbaes for experience.”

“You can stick by me and see the oppas in all their chaotic glory,” she snorted before tugging on his sleeve to bring him to the center of the practice room. “Let’s try marking before the rest of the dancers get here.”

The practice went smoothly, considering she knew the choreography by heart and Heeseung caught on quickly. To Yoonmi’s pleasure, the choreography was almost as clean as she wanted it to be by the time the clock struck 9. All of the dancers got along well together, and there was no tension. They all even messed around with each other during the breaks, which was similar to how the dancers were in previous tours. But, all good things came to an end as the dancers left the practice room one by one, bidding goodbye.

“You’re not regretting agreeing to this, are you?” she asked Heeseung while handing him an energy drink. He had been sweating despite already removing his plaid shirt and being left in a tee.

“Not at all,” he grinned at her while accepting the drink, “it’s a great experience. I just want to know though, how do you practice for hours without removing your hoodie?”

“It’s comfy,” she shrugged.

A knock on the door caught their attention. Seokjin’s head popped in first, a big smile on his face before he let himself in and brought Yoonmi into a hug. Heeseung bowed at him, while he bowed back before turning his attention to her. She wrinkled her nose at him but wrapped her arms around his waist all the same. The elder placed a quick kiss to the top of her head before his face scrunched up.

“You need a shower, princess,” Seokjin squished her cheeks, making her look like a puffer fish.”

“I know,” the words came muffled out of her mouth, “is it home time?”

He nodded down at her before turning towards Heeseung with a smile. “So you’ll be joining us on tour?”

“Yes, sunbaenim.” The awkwardness was back.

Seokjin smiled. “We’ve heard good things about you, Heeseung, from both Yeonjun and management. We’re looking forward to working with you.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened before he thanked the senior. Seokjin laughed a little before letting go of Yoonmi and picking up her bag for her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m taking this one home for dinner before she passes out from being overworked. She still has filming tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” she squeezed Heeseung’s arm with a grateful smile, “don’t stay too late today or I’ll tell Seri! I know she’s gonna mother hen you even from a different continent.”

He snorted but lightly hit her shoulder. “Alright, fine. See you tomorrow.”

Yoonmi made her way towards Seokjin who was waiting for her by the door, already having memorized the spiel he was giving. Eat food on time, rest, one task at a time, and everything along those lines.

“And I want you asleep by 10:30,” he continued despite them reaching the parking lot already, “so you can have a full eight hours of sleep before heading to the shoot, okay? Jimin has the morning off, so he’ll be going with you.”

This put a frown on her face. She hated the fact that the members were going out of their way to help her or accompany her when they could be resting instead. Also, the director and the PDs were asking her to keep the members from coming on set as much as possible so they don’t get spoiled. And because they can get embarrassingly fussy over her in between takes.

It’s not that she didn’t like it, she would easily admit that it felt nice knowing the members cared for her, but it did get her a little shy with all the cast and staff staring at them.

“Yoongi and I made him promise to stay beside Sejin hyung,” Seokjin smiled at her, “you don’t have to worry about the unnecessary staring. You can probably get away with hiding with your castmates. You know, the ones casted as your fellow kids?”

She laughed. “You know me too well.”

“What type of big brothers would we be if we didn’t?” He helped her into the passenger’s seat before getting into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get you fed and showered so you can be at full battery tomorrow.”

taglist: @sunflower-0180 @seaoffangirling @yourwonderbelle @1-800-enhypennabi @kamiiyou @strwberrydinosaur @uraveragefangirlsposts @caratinylyfe @1-800-minji @one16core @kimhyejin3108 @chansols @akshverse @toriluvsfics @billboard-singer

drop an ask or a dm if you wanna be added or taken out of the taglist 🥰 requests are also open!

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fic: Pendulum

Summary: This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before.

Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.

[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist] -- It's 9:47 in the morning when Caroline boards the train.

Klaus' lips curl involuntarily into a smile. It's a lot like seeing a movie he's already watched a thousand times, but not in a while, and yet somehow can still recall every scene, every line of dialogue, every little twist.

He knows the reason behind Caroline's panting and slightly disheveled appearance - flushed cheeks, damp clothes, wind-tousled hair. There are exactly two minutes and 26 seconds before the train is scheduled to depart. She was running late. She is always running late. 

He can't tell how long it has been since the last time he witnessed this moment, not in a way that an ordinary mind might be able to grasp. Days and months and years are too small a scale for Klaus. Months and years tend to run together so easily; it's impossible to keep track.

He prefers to count in lifetimes.

Read the full story here

-- Please, mind the tags and A/N for possible triggering subjects.

This fic is my baby. 🥲 I can't believe I'm actually reposting it. It's been years in the making (and remaking, and re-remaking), so I really hope you guys enjoy it. ❤️ More than ever, your kudos, comments and reblogs will really mean the world to me. I wish I had the talent for a new cover art, but sadly my mind is empty, no thoughts or ideas, just vibes. The beautiful one being used here was made way back when by the uber talented @deadalien.

This is not being posted today by acciddent: it's here as a birthday gift to its biggest supporter, and one of my favorite fandom peeps ever, @sekretny. Happy birthday, friend! 🥳I really hope this doesn't disappoint. 🥲

[spookyhalloweennights]

Monster Matchup: Jayce (SFW)

Well! I'm back, and slowly trying to get into the swing of things. I plan on Thursday posts being posted earlier in the day rather than later. Anyways! Here's a monster matchup! If you like my work and want to read more, check out my MASTERLIST! Requests and Matchups are temporarily CLOSED!

The first time you had met him, it was actually online in a chat room that you were using to discuss different digital artist techniques, you had posted one of your most recent drawings and asked them what it was missing. Since you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

Jayce had been the first one to respond, suggesting adding some shading in different areas while the others had echoed the same thoughts, and after mulling it over for a while, you had taken the suggestions to mind and added shading.

Only then was the piece perfect enough to post to your account, which led to you getting a new follower, the same guy from the chat room you had been in.

You had been the one to start the conversation first, sending out a quick thank you to him to which he had responded back. Though the conversation had only seemed to go from there, it started slowly at first, one message every other day or so.

Then it turned into the two of you messaging each other constantly, whether it was while you were out at a party to tell him how it was or while he was at his job telling you about some annoying thing a coworker had said to him. Eventually he had started to share pictures with you in day to day life, and you found he had a pet cat!

Finally, you had gathered enough courage to ask him where he lived, surprisingly, he didn’t live too far from you.

Wanting to meet the person behind the screen, you had suggested meeting up, which to your surprise he had agreed. You had texted one of your friends to come along with you, and since he worked at a museum, a very public place, you had full confidence going out to meet him.

What you weren’t expecting was a 7 foot tall drider with snow white hair and red eyes to be standing in front of where you were supposed to meet the friend you had made online. You stood there shocked for a moment or two before walking up to him and introducing yourself.

He had smiled at you, and introduced himself as Jayce, or Jay for short, and then he very happily showed you and your friend around the museum, explaining all of the different exhibits and even giving you a bit of a backstage tour since he had clearance.

The stone pathway that led up to the museum was familiar to you now, as was the drider who was just starting an afternoon tour that consisted of fourth graders who really could care less about what he had to say and cared more about getting to the dinosaur exhibit. You leaned against the check in desk, the demon behind the counter had grown familiar with you and would let you come and go as you please since you were mainly here for him anyway. 

His gaze had landed on you, and a sweet smile had spread across his features as he had led the kids over to the interactive dinosaur dig site that they had set up recently since there had been an increase in schools wanting to take field trips there. The teacher had looked mildly annoyed that she had to pay attention to the kids now but Jayce strode over to you like he could have cared less. 

“I thought you were busy today?” He asked once he had reached you, he leaned down, pulling you into a hug that had made you always feel secure with him. “If I would’ve known you were coming, I would’ve scheduled the field trip for later in the day…” He huffed quietly as he pulled away. 

You merely beamed up at him in response. “Well, I thought I’d come and surprise you today, but I see that you’re busy, I could always come…-” You were cut off as Jayce had pulled you closer to him and leaned down to press a brief kiss to your lips. 

“Nonsense, in fact, since you’re here, why don’t you help me give the tour?” He suggested as he led you over to where the fourth graders were currently having the time of their lives. 

“Sure, and then we can go out for lunch!” You laughed as he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “There’s a new restaurant that opened up that we could try.” 

[jennycalendar]

was going to crytype this whole post about how i feel like i'm doing so badly at everything before realizing i think i am just very upset i had to talk to my mother today again the day before i'm about to semi-solo run a workshop for 15 teenagers after like six months of zero teenagers and one celia who barely legally counted as a living person, AND i realized just today that i haven't emailed either of my grad school professors about the library conference that means i will need to miss class, not because i have forgotten but because i've been terrified that i shouldn't be talking to them when i haven't done enough of the grad school reading to talk authoritatively about anything they're teaching (i have so much reading i am behind on and need to do y'all have no idea), AND checking the schedule there is one class i CANNOT miss so i will have to figure out how to schedule attending that class within the conference, and i have to be up at eight in the fucking morning tomorrow, probably/definitely earlier! AND i am getting my state identification ALSO tomorrow after six solid months of avoiding doing it because i hate the thought of living anywhere but my home state and don't want to think of myself as someone who lives here, even though i will almost definitely be here for the next two years, probably longer, because moving is expensive! and actually typing all of this out maybe there are a lot of things i am stressed about