#I'm working on the next pages I promise

[pushing500]

Hello! Just popping in to say sorry about the delay in RimWorld posts! The next few pages are taking forever to draw, but I promise I'm working on them!

A lot happened in my game all at once, so there's a lot to draw, lol. In the meantime, enjoy these doodles of Magic Man I did while I was at work!

I was trying to draw Magic Man's tail because I don't think I draw it very much and it is pretty cool.

Every time I remember that Magic Man's given name is "Louis" I crack up laughing. He doesn't look like a Louis, but I suppose maybe I'm just too used to "Magic Man", which is an arguably weirder name.

Finally, as a special treat (and as an apology for taking so long with updates), here are the very, very, very first designs for Vasso, Laursen, and Bella that I ever drew! This was drawn while I was waiting for the results of the "Eldritch Cult VS Mechanitor" poll, so there is a special guest appearance from the Mechanitor we'll meet once this current run is over. It's probably considered a spoiler, so I'll pop it under here:

Don't mind the scribbling; this was a very early draft as I tried to work out what I wanted the characters to be like.

Bella used to be so small T.T

[wolf-and-raven-dreaming]

Let's play a game:

what is Dream seeing? Wrong answers only 🙃

Let's have fun with this.

[grellssquishyhusband]

Okay I need my comfort character back so Grell headcannons!

- Likes spicy food

- Naturally has brown hair

- I think she and Barbie would be friends

- She and Will are Ex's

- I think she'd run a food blog. She'd absolutely abandon all her dreams to be a good critic. I'm so certain about this.

- I think she makes her own dolls or stuffies

- She actually doesn't hate dogs

- I think she wants a hairless cat

- She's really really good at video games and likes fucking with people on VC "❤️✨🩷 Hi guys! I'm Grell!" "Ugh a girl. We're gonna lose" "(noticeably deeper voice) Say that again bitch fuck "

- She's German

- Her fashion sense is just aggressively alternating between Fem fatal and hello kitty girl

- I have this feeling that the second she gets home and takes off all her pretty clothes she's just full morphs into a sweaty gamer girl. Shes not like cute gamer girl. She just plays video games on a 10 year old computer in the dark while laying on a completely bear mattress and drinking mt dew and completely cocooned in like 7 blankets.

- She has freckles

- She also experienced that universal trans thing of it taking like a few months to a year to figure out how to actually dress like the gender you identify with so there's like a year of shame where she just had absolutely terrible outfits.

- She has at least 1 other female reaper friend. Toboso just won't show us that friend.

[freckleslikestars]

Room 115

Missing scene between Doggett and Scully in Deadalive.

637 words, read here on AO3

She was dozing in that same vinyl chair, hands curled protectively over her distended abdomen. It had been a long few days, he could feel the weight of them hanging off his bones, and he couldn’t imagine just how exhausted she must be to have crashed out in such an uncomfortable position. But he also knew there was no chance of getting her to leave Mulder’s side – he wondered how long the hospital staff had tried before giving up. With a glance back at the darkened room, he headed towards the nurse’s desk just down the hall.

‘Sir, visiting hours are over – have been for a couple of hours now. How’d you even get up here.’

‘With this,’ he flashed his badge. ‘Is there any chance we can get a cot or something for room 115? It’s just...she’s sleepin’ in that chair and in her condition-‘

‘This is the ICU, sir. Allowing her to stay is already highly unusual.’

‘Highly- the man’s been dead three months; it’s all highly unusual,’ he hissed, shaking his head. ‘Look, she just saved his life: can you at least spare her a pillow or some blankets or something?’

The nurse dropped her head and sighed, ‘I’ll see what I can do. I can’t guarantee anything, though.’

‘Thank you,’ he nodded, heading back towards room 115 and slipping quietly into the room. There was little visible change in Mulder, the monitors beeping away, his face the same scarred visage it had been when they’d dug him up, if slightly less peaky in colour, sans the tubes and wires that had been pumping life into him.

He crouched by the chair and rested a hand on Scully’s shoulder, shook her gently, ‘Agent Scully?’ She groaned, turning away from him, and he resisted a smile as he tried again to rouse her, ‘Dana, wake up.’

‘Mm. Doggett? ‘t’s’wrong? Mulder? Is- is he-?’ she wrenched herself upright, her neck cracking audibly and a muffled grunt leaving her lips as pain flashed across her face, gone in an instant and replaced with her fear.

‘Nothing. Nothing, calm down. No change.’

She slumped back down, letting her eyes slid shut again as she moaned, ‘why’d you wake me then?’

‘It’s been three days. Maybe you should go home, take a shower, get some rest – some proper rest.’

‘No. No, I’m not leaving him. I’m going to be right here when he wakes.’

‘Scully-‘

‘He’s been alone for months, Agent Doggett. I’m not leaving him alone again.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he rocked back onto his heels. ‘Can I at least get you something to eat?’

She smiled, nodded gently, ‘if you wouldn’t mind.’ She let out a sharp hiss and dropped her hand to the side of her stomach, her smile broadening. She looked up at him, took in his concerned expression, ‘kid’s got one hell of a right hook. They’ve, uh, they’ve been more active the last couple of days – like they know he’s here,’ she scoffed and shook her head. ‘Which is stupid. I imagine it’s got more to do with my emotions and hormones being all...out of wack, and that’s affecting the baby.’

‘You don’t have to explain it, Agent Scully. Maybe the kid does know he’s here: stranger things have happened.’

‘You can say that again,’ she sighed, rubbing circles wearily on the side of her stomach. ‘I’ve prayed for him to be returned so many times, and now he’s back I- I’ve got no idea what I’m going to say to him.’

He gave her a soft smile and patted her shoulder, ‘I’m sure you’ll know what to say when the time comes. Now, what can I get you to eat?’

‘Something spicy? Ooh, and something salty. I don’t mind what.’

‘Spicy and salty,’ he nodded, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Tagging @today-in-fic

[cyatzura]

did you guys know that it takes a lot of time to write at least 50 pages

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

[river-taxbird]

AI hasn't improved in 18 months. It's likely that this is it. There is currently no evidence the capabilities of ChatGPT will ever improve. It's time for AI companies to put up or shut up.

I'm just re-iterating this excellent post from Ed Zitron, but it's not left my head since I read it and I want to share it. I'm also taking some talking points from Ed's other posts. So basically:

We keep hearing AI is going to get better and better, but these promises seem to be coming from a mix of companies engaging in wild speculation and lying.

Chatgpt, the industry leading large language model, has not materially improved in 18 months. For something that claims to be getting exponentially better, it sure is the same shit.

Hallucinations appear to be an inherent aspect of the technology. Since it's based on statistics and ai doesn't know anything, it can never know what is true. How could I possibly trust it to get any real work done if I can't rely on it's output? If I have to fact check everything it says I might as well do the work myself.

For "real" ai that does know what is true to exist, it would require us to discover new concepts in psychology, math, and computing, which open ai is not working on, and seemingly no other ai companies are either.

Open ai has already seemingly slurped up all the data from the open web already. Chatgpt 5 would take 5x more training data than chatgpt 4 to train. Where is this data coming from, exactly?

Since improvement appears to have ground to a halt, what if this is it? What if Chatgpt 4 is as good as LLMs can ever be? What use is it?

As Jim Covello, a leading semiconductor analyst at Goldman Sachs said (on page 10, and that's big finance so you know they only care about money): if tech companies are spending a trillion dollars to build up the infrastructure to support ai, what trillion dollar problem is it meant to solve? AI companies have a unique talent for burning venture capital and it's unclear if Open AI will be able to survive more than a few years unless everyone suddenly adopts it all at once. (Hey, didn't crypto and the metaverse also require spontaneous mass adoption to make sense?)

There is no problem that current ai is a solution to. Consumer tech is basically solved, normal people don't need more tech than a laptop and a smartphone. Big tech have run out of innovations, and they are desperately looking for the next thing to sell. It happened with the metaverse and it's happening again.

In summary:

Ai hasn't materially improved since the launch of Chatgpt4, which wasn't that big of an upgrade to 3.

There is currently no technological roadmap for ai to become better than it is. (As Jim Covello said on the Goldman Sachs report, the evolution of smartphones was openly planned years ahead of time.) The current problems are inherent to the current technology and nobody has indicated there is any way to solve them in the pipeline. We have likely reached the limits of what LLMs can do, and they still can't do much.

Don't believe AI companies when they say things are going to improve from where they are now before they provide evidence. It's time for the AI shills to put up, or shut up.

[aeribbon]

you ready ? | carlos sainz

summary; when one time in ibiza, you made a deal with a random spanish man that if if in 5 years you weren't dating someone you would marry him... it's been 5 years !

pairing; carlos sainz x diplomat!reader

warnings; swearing ?? english isn't my first language !

an; also i'm taking requests pleaseeeeee give me scenarios i would gladly make them

fc; chiara king

navigation / masterlist

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yourusername - 2016

liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and 235 others !

yourusername me after doing handstands in the pool to impress him but see ya in 5 years ig

view all comments

carlossainz55 I hope so !

yourbestfriend that is a crazy bet but i'm here for it

yourfriend1 damn you're stunning

yourfriend2 okay period girl that tan ate

yourfriend3 yummy

username mmhm why is carlos liking and commenting ??

▮ username literally ahaha no way the f1 gossip pages still haven't found this

(yn's pov)

5 years later

yourusername - 2021

liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend1, carlossains55, and 789 others !

yourusername single life means gno everyday !!!

view all comments

yourbestfriend thank god cause i couldn't stand that ugly rat

▮ yourfriend1 and he had the audacity to cheat !

▮ yourusername gotta get that rebound tonight

yourbestfriend i need you to stop traveling, i can assume you pookie no need to work and leave me every monday

▮ yourusername ily babe but i'm not gonna fuck up 10 years of studies for you <3

▮ yourbestfriend well i tried, ...

▮ yourbestfriend GIRL HOLD ON HOLD TF UP CHECK YOUR MESSAGES

y/n's pov

yourusername - 2021

liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend2, carlossainz55 and 1290 others !

yourusername i love my job

view all comments

carlossainz55 so... it's been 5 years ! you still up ?

▮ yourusername omg carlos hi

▮ carlossainz55 yeah hi y/n (liked by author)

▮ maxverstappen1 ☕️

▮ username WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF

yourfriend2 when i'll buy france you'll be my prime minister and minister of international relationships

▮ yourusername how much will you pay me ?

yourbestfriend can i pls come with you next time

▮ yourusername no youre gonna distract me and yk i can't say no to you

▮ yourbestfriend i promise we'll go out only the last day !

▮ yourusername ok we might have a deal

yourfriend1 stunning

username let me spell gorjus right !

yourfriendwhichisamale loveeee never knew what i was missing

▮ yourusername bro if you don't shut up you're gonna make me fumble

▮ landonorris ouh 👀

▮ carlossainz55 cabron leave

carlos' pov

carlossainz55 - 2024

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, alex_albon and 3m others !

carlossainz55 fell in love with her way before that deal trust me ! can't believe i actually get to call you MY wife after 3 years of relationship and the best years of my life, i love you y/n more than you could ever imagine ❤️

view all comments

yourbestfriend WELP I LOVE YOU GUYS

yourusername i love you too carlos and i think you've got an idea of how much i love you

maxverstappen1 congrats guys, i'm so proud of you guys and also for being part of that deal 😆❤️

▮ carlossainz55 shush that's a secret

▮ yourusername YOU WERE INVOLVED ?

landonorris my parents awww ily

username carlosy/n nation we are so alive omg

username i'm such a proud mom omg i love them so much

rúbendias congrats mate (like by author)

username their history is so wattpad coded please it's too cute for me

oscarpiastri can you please adopt me now ?

▮ charles_leclerc WHAT ??? NO WTF

▮ yourusername ofc my cutie osc anything for you my love

▮ carlossainz55 oh

▮ landonorris they're already my parents move and i'm y/n's favorite

▮ oscarpiastri i'm gonna hold your hand when i'll say this

▮ yourusername yeah sorry norris

yourusername - lake como

liked by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 12k others !

yourusername made the deal for the plot but actually found my soulmate on the way, i love you carlos ! you're the love of my life ❤️

view all comments

yourbestfriend the way this story ended is my roman empire

username she's beautiful

username i knew this wedding wouldn't disappoint after seeing y/n's aesthetic

▮ username she's literally a diplomat and he's literally an f1 driver i was excepting something as big as they served us !

▮ username fr love them for this !!!!! this is so iconic imagine having your wedding in lake como

lilymunihe my baby i'm so happy for you awwww

▮ yourusername ily lily

carmenmmundt wedding of the year !! thank you for inviting george and i it was an incredible experience !

▮ yourusername awww thank you for being here carmen ily

username oh to be marrying the y/n

username idk if i want to be carlos or y/n

▮ username trust me i would kill to marry y/n

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i tried ahaha pls i would love to have your feed back or any ideas for an smau !!

[yumeka-sxf]

After two months, the SxF manga is finally back! There's lots of interesting Melinda content here, so let's analyze!

I would say the main thing we learned about Melinda in this chapter reinforces what's been hinted at before - not only does she truly despise Donovan, but she's actually terrified of him. Her expression on this page when she thinks of his souless eyes says it all.

Whether her fear comes from direct abuse, knowledge of what unspeakable things he's done in the past, or something else entirely, has yet to be seen. This chapter also emphasizes the fact that she can't freely do what she wants without being fearful of what he would do. Just like at the end of the bus hijacking arc where she made Damian promise not to tell Donovan that she had come to pick him up, we see in this chapter that she can't let him know about her occult hobby either.

But while it's not clear what exactly Donovan does or has done to her to make her like this, what is clear is that her fear of him is what's caused this inescapable hatred of him, which was so strong that it caused her to also develop feelings of hatred for her son because he's something that connects her to Donovan. But like we've seen before when Anya first read her mind, her dislike for Damian is fickle; one minute she wants him to disappear, but deep down she loves him. While the first incident after the hijacking made her seem more ambivalent, this chapter reveals that her "good" side is her true intent - wanting to be a worthy mother to Damian and see him happy.

But her fear of Donovan is so gripping, that just the thought of confronting him makes her paralyzed with fear. She becomes too exhausted to continue and even starts questioning why she bothers with fortune telling at all. Perhaps it's an unconscious coping method that she uses to try and find a way out of the horrible situation she's in.

Hopefully we'll learn even more about Melinda in the next chapter when she has her appointment with "Dr. Forger." But another thing I wanted to point out in this chapter is reiterating how empathetic Yor is to Melinda's condition despite not knowing what's actually bothering her. And in recommending that Melinda see Loid at work, she's actually helping with his mission! (of course only Anya realized this).

And oh my god, the "grim reaper" joke had me cackling 😂 Their expressions in the first panel were hilarious enough, but then Yor had to make sure Anya knows that she doesn't use a scythe! That's just so her.

Guess it wouldn't be a SxF chapter without one quiet, bittersweet scene, courtesy of Loid this time 😭

I also love how the boys are enamored with Yor. Even foul-mouthed Damian can't bring himself to be directly rude to her, so he just runs away 😆

I know a lot can be said about the Tarot card meanings, but this post is long enough already, so I'll leave that part up to others who are better with that type of analysis 😅 I'm just glad the SxF manga is officially back! I'm relieved Endo is better and giving my best wishes that his health continues to stay good 🤞

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

[ a. harumasa x fem reader ]

____________________________________________

" come on the situation isn't that bad, " harumasa says as yanagi shakes her head.

" you're right, it isn't that bad. " you mocked, " it's terrible! " you slam open the door of section six office, as all heads turn to you. what was the section one slave doing here? sure you were in charge of checking their files here and there, same with them to yours. harumasa drop the file yanagi handed him earlier upon your arrival. sweat dripping down his forehead. was it really that terrible?

" ms l/n, you reek of alcohol. " miyabi starts as she gets down from her stool, hand on the hilt of her sword as you shake your head.

" wasn't section one having a party to celebrate your newly promoted chief? " soukaku questions.

" I only drank one can, I'm not drunk! " you scold.

" anyways you're all allowed to go home, except you, mr asaba harumasa! " they didn't press further but obliged, yanagi can only pray you go easy on him.

" come on was it that terrible? " you can't help but glare dangers. his work these days are incomprehensible. he was supposed to write a report about the recent hollow case. was it that hard to recall everything from start to finish without missing any details? he didn't even describe what ethereals was in it.

" yes it was, " you jab a finger to his chest, making him fall back on his chair. he swiddle around before pushing himself to his table.

" please rewrite the report or I'll make you write more. " he sighs, playfully putting his head down. you lean down to meet his face as he close his eyes. was he going to sleep?

" hey, don't sleep, " you poke his forehead as he shot up straight.

" if you're gonna stay with me, why don't you write it? I'll tell you the details, " you can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. was he really not going to do his work? it's just one report!

" you'll be free to go if you complete this earlier, you know. "

" I don't feel like doing it... " he sighs as he place his head down again.

few minutes past as awkward silence engulfs the room, you pull the chair next to his. he's eating up your time. how can he fall asleep after a scolding? or a bickering... either way how can he sleep during a situation like this!

" hey, if you do this report I'll do whatever you want. " you ruffle his hair, as he sat straight, stretching as he look at you, eyes beaming at your words.

" anything you say? " he teased as you regret your words.

" yes anything, but you better write the report correctly and properly within one hour! " you watch as he quickly turns on the computer smashing keys after keys as he ponders in between. it's pretty comical how he suddenly wants to vanquish his report.

you glance at the clock from time to time, he's focused on the task at hand. with one final key smash, his paper was printed as he went to grab it for you. handing it over as he stood in front of you. you flip and skim through the pages, pleased that whatever he wrote at least made sense and is connected.

" well, goodjob and thanks for the report. I'll submit it for you, " you stood up as his hands quickly fly over to your shoulder, pressing you back down on the chair. he's got you trap between him.

" are you forgetting something, miss? " he leans forwards, staring into your soul as a blush finds its way over to your face. this is the first he's ever been close to you. you push the paper over to your face, trying to cover your face and calm your raging heart.

" what did I-I forget? " how you wish you didn't tell him, you'll do whatever he wants, so he'll finish his report and let you go home at least before midnight.

he pulls the paper down, smirking at your shyness or fake ignorance. you didn't forget the promise.

" I was gonna ask for a date for my hardwork but maybe a date isn't enough. " you stare at him as your blush just keeps growing. your hands starts to feel sweaty, is this guy serious?

" be my girlfriend. " he smiles as you push him off but he doesn't budge.

" I say I'll do whatever you want- "

" do be my girlfriend, " he beams even brighter if that was even possible.

" and as my girlfriend, you should give your very hardworking boyfriend a kiss for doing a goodjob on his report, " he purse his lips, making a ' muah ' sound.

maybe it's time to face the music, you do like him and you hope this isn't a prank or anything. you did say you'll do whatever and if what he says it's true he did save a lot of time from beating around the bush and confessing.

" are you being serious right now? " he stop as he looks at you offended.

" I'm always serious when it's you, girlfriend. " he winks as you cringe.

" come on, give me that kiss and we can go home! "

you close your eyes and lean in, aiming to give a kiss to his cheek but he was quick to lean in and steal your lips with his. your eyes shot open, he place a hand behind your head. when he pulls away to catch his breath, you were starstruck. he leans again as you slap your hands over his lips.

" you said a kiss. " you can't help the silly smile threatening to crawl when he pouts, shoulder dropping at the rejection. he pulls away as he stood up, taking your hand in his.

" fine fine, more kisses will come anyways. let's take you home, " he drags you away and walks you to your apartment.

when he bids you farewell at your doorstep, he did kiss you once again. wishing you a very goodnight as you said the same.

to say the least this bro won't do shit when he's feeling extra tired or lazy so you'll have to step in and reward him with kisses or hugs and mostly both. it has been an occurrence in section six almost everyday, that yanagi has to physically pry you away when harumasa can't let go of you when he hugs you. you pat his head as you say goodbye as he weeps on his desk jokingly...

[the-odd-shu]

Lab shenanigans

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader

A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

Note this takes place during season 1:

Gender Neutral!Reader who got hired as the lab illustrator because neither Jayce nor Viktor can draw and they need an illustrator to document all their official papers with recognisable diagrams of their inventions.

The next part

Masterlist

Reader who was just freshly been employed as the lab illustrator, sitting diligently at their new desk whilst Jayce fetches the research folder and Viktor tinkers away in the background.

Reader who lets Jayce set down the heavy folder on their desk, which holds all of the pair's research as well as hundreds of cruedly drawn sketches of inventions such as the Hexclaw and early drafts of the Hexgates, drawn by both himself and Viktor. (They are not drawn well, and it is only because most of the drawings are labelled with big, obnoxoious arrows that you actually know what you're looking at).

Jayce pausing in his explanations of the tech on each page and his promises to pull everything out of storage when you need it for a refence, slowly trailing off when he catches sight of your reaction to the drawings: "Why are you making that face?"

Reader who is diligently flicking through the pages and trying not to crack up at the poorly drawn stick figures, and the messy, uneven parallel lines of wires and robotic arms, and the scribbled oblong that is supposed to be one of the gemstones. They're not half bad attempts from people who focus their energy and time into math equations and flowery research papers, but that doesn't mean they're not amusing to look at.

"What face? I'm not making a face."

Reader turns all of their attention down to the pages and proceeds to fail at smothering their snort as the concept sketch of one of the Zaun suits. They push the folder back along the desk, to create enough space to prop their elbows on the table, to pinch the bridge of their nose hard to try and school themselves into some form of calm.

"Why are you laughing?" Jayce asks, sounding geniunely confused.

Whilst Reader tries to save face by responding, "I'm not. I'm just- uh, coming to terms with how much work I have ahead of me."

Jayce frowns.

The commotion has caught Viktor's attention.

"Well, it is a lot." Jayce allows, "but we won't rush you. The deadline is months away after all, and if-"

His words fade into the background in your mind as Viktor chooses then to roll over on his wheelie office chair to see what's going on, only to immediately grin in understanding. He rolls his chair up on the adjascent side of your desk, mouth pulled into a wicked smirk as he points to a particularly wobbly zaun suit drawing. "That would be one of Jayce's masterpieces."

Jayce lets out an offended noise, whilst Viktor takes malicious joy in flipping through the folder to point out which other drawings were done by Jayce. Most of them are wobbly and uneven, but have clearly been mapped out with steady, slow care.

In retaliation, Jayce swipes the folder out of Viktor's gleeful hands, and pointedly flips to a fresher page dated back to a couple of days ago. You catch a glimpse of the title 'hexcore', scrawled across the top in confident letters, before Jayce is turning the folder back to you and loudly proclaiming the work of art as Viktor's.

[The ‘hexcore’ has been drawn with wobbly, uneven lines that lacked the sleek, parallel look of the actual subject, with poorly recreated runes that did not at all take into account perspective or foreshortening.]

Reader loses it at the attempt, whilst Jayce and Viktor continue to squabble with one another in the background.

I just NEED all three of them to spend countless hours in that laboratory getting stuck in their respective tasks (creative Vs Scientific) and all three of them come out aching and satisfied by the time the janitor comes round to kick them out for the night, despite doing jobs that require different parts of their brains. The overlap of countless, almost unsolvable equations, with the hours of staring at a blank page and slowly but surely coaxing out an image, it just so precious to me somehow.

Bonus points of course, if Jayce and Viktor are getting really into a scientific debate across the room by the chalkboard, flinging enormous words back and forth at one another, whilst Reader slowly dies inside trying to make the metal part of an invention LOOK like metal.

I just need Reader allowing the background muttering and excited exclamations to sooth them as they carefully draw another diagram above a neatly scrawled out text box of the pair's latest concept.

Jayce: “Yes! That could work! What do you think, Y/n?”

Reader: Head snaps up at being addressed. “Uh…”

They blue screen as they come back to reality and realise they haven’t moved in hours and their back and neck desperately ache from the movement. They're suddenly starving, and hungry, and really need to pee, but didn't notice before because they were so engrossed in their work. Kind of like how the other two get about their research.

Viktor being a night owl and working on projects late into the night.

Jayce being smart and taking cat naps on his desk because he's an early bird, but a deadline is coming up and he refuses to be defeated by exhaustion.

And then you have Reader. Who is not being supervised in the kitchen, where they've made their fifth coffee and with shaking, caffeinated hands, they begin pouring in a generous helping of a Piltover energy drink.

Viktor hears the can pop.

He says your name warningly. "You better not be making that culinary monstrosity again."

Instead of responding, they knock back the whole mug in desperate gulps, ignoring the rancid taste and shivering from the mix of burning liquid with the pop of hundreds of tiny bubbles.

The mug gets slammed loudly back on the counter. Viktor sighs heavily and pushes his wheelie chair towards Jayce's desk.

He wakes him up, with a prod of his cane into his side.

"I'm about to have a breakthrough." He explains quickly motioning to his desk. Blary eyed and clearly not fully awake yet, Jayce nods along. Viktor points dramatically to Jayce and then in the direction of the kitchen. "You're on assistant duty for the next half an hour."

The tiredness leeches out of Jayce's face. "They didn't-"

"They did."

"But they've already got caffeine shakes!"

"Tell that to the sound of the kettle bubbling away and the pop of a can lid. It has already happened Jayce. All we can do now it keep the damage to a minimum."

On silent feet, Reader's shadow appears on the other side of the desk. Both men jump. The light overhead casts their face into shadows and somehow makes their eyes glow. It is a terrifying sight.

Viktor recovers first. "We need to put a bell on you!"

"Kinky. Now, whatdoyouwantmetodrawnext?!" Their assistant rushes out in a single breath.

And both scientists pale. It was already beginning then.

The next four hours consists of Jayce struggling to keep his eyes open whilst Reader pokes fun at him and offers up their 'creation', Jayce firmly declining and trying to get on with his work, whilst Viktor keeps to himself and snorts periodically at the banter.

Reader draws and draws and then rubs out, before diligently getting back to drawing again. There is a frenzy to their marks. A wildness to their eyes. The scratch and scritch of their pen, getting lost amongst the sound of cogs turning and screws tightening and Jayce's yawning. So much so that when it suddenly ceases, neither of the scientists notice at first.

Not until Viktor asks for a warm tea, only for the previously eager assistant not to respond. He lets out a fond sigh, Jayce straightening up from his own work.

Reader is passed out on their sketchbook, having FINALLY crashed.

Viktor gets up to make his own tea.

Jayce shrugs off his jacket, and puts it over their shoulders as a makeshift blanket. The man has such broad shoulders that it practically swallows the assistant from sight, but they do not stir.

"That'll give them an awful neck ache tomorrow." Viktor observes aloud.

Jayce snorts. "Maybe it'll be enough of a punishment to stop them making that foul concoction."

"Unlikely."

Jayce just shakes his head and collapses back onto his desk and lays his head down on his arm. "Ten minutes." He mutters out before closing his eyes.

Viktor hums. And by the time he gets his tea back to the desk, his partner is out like a light, just as he had predicted.

"I CANNOT believe you're making me do this Jayce." Viktor exclaims sarcastically.

"Viktor. Please let me get that cog for you. Just this time. Please!"

"Oh no, no, do not get up on my account." Viktor firmly dismisses as he shimmies down his cane, one hand over the other all the whilst making exaggerated groaning noises.

Jayce is practically vibrating in place. "Please! It is literally all the way under that side board. Can I just slide it out for you? You can pick it up yourself."

"Oh no, do not strain yourself!" Viktor insists, sitting himself down on the floor, one hand holding his cane up as he shoves his other arm under the side board.

"VIKTOR!" Jayce all but whines, and takes a step forward.

"Ah!" Viktor immediately reprimands. "Y/n get the spray bottle!"

You've been watching the entire scene in amusement from your desk. Quietly giggling at Viktor's ribbing and Jayce's desperation to be useful. They make a rather amusing duo.

Jayce's eyes have jumped up to you. Frozen mid-step, eyes pleading.

You grin, pointedly reaching across the gap between yours and Viktor's desks to grab said spray bottle.

On the floor, Viktor makes a triumphant noise, before straightening up and brandishing the cog above his head. "Got it!" He exclaims, before slamming the blasted thing onto the side board. Then he tries to clamber back up his cane to his feet. He is unsuccessful as his leg decides not to co-operate this time.

He sighs. "Jayce." He says heavily, "as punishment for making me get down here in the first place-"

"What?! I've literally been-"

"As reprimand for your dastardly crimes. You are obligated to offer me one hand. But ONLY one, or your punishment shall evolve into death by spray bottle." Dramatically, he holds out his hand to his exasperated partner.

In support, you give the spray bottle a little squeeze in Jayce's direction, to which he shoots you a dark look. You merely grin back.

Then Jayce offers Viktor his hand, their fingers wrapping around the others wrist. "Slow." Viktor instructs, as he readjusts his legs into the right position. Jayce nods.

Then Jayce gently pulls Viktor up as Viktor balances between his feet and his cane.

"Thank you." He says, patting Jayce on the cheek, before promptly turning on his heel to retreat back to his desk.

They're so silly, I love them so much.

The next part

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER'S DAUGHTER PT 2 | MV1

an: GUYS IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS AU! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this au im so ready, it'll be tagged as #preacheraumax on my page if you want to find all the posts. i'm already writing pt 3, feel free to talk to me abt this au!!

wc: 6.3k

part one

The late-afternoon sun spilled golden light over the trailer park, painting the rusted edges of Max’s trailer with a soft glow. From the open window of his trailer, the smell of dinner drifted out—pasta, he thought, though he wasn’t sure. She’d insisted on cooking again, and he hadn’t had it in him to argue. He leaned against his car outside for a minute, absently wiping his hands with an oil-stained rag, trying—and failing—to ignore the way his T-shirt hung loose on her frame when she flitted through the tiny kitchen through the small window.

A week of this. A week of her brushing past him, all sweet smiles and quiet thank-yous, like she didn’t notice the way his pulse spiked every time she tucked her hair behind her ear or hummed while folding his clothes. He’d been respectful, giving her space, knowing she needed time to heal, but damn if she didn’t make it difficult.

The screen door creaked open, and there she was, standing on the step with a plate in her hands and a soft grin. “Dinner’s ready.”

He bit back a groan, tossed the rag onto the bike seat, and followed her inside.

They ate quietly, the scrape of forks on mismatched plates filling the small space. She’d been unusually quiet all day, and when she finally set her fork down, her eyes were a little too bright, her voice a little too soft.

“I talked to my aunt,” she said.

Max froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah?”

“She’s expecting me next week. She’s got a room for me, and she says I can stay as long as I need to.”

He nodded, keeping his face neutral, even though something sharp twisted in his chest. “That’s good. Safe place for you. Close to college.”

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the table. “You’ll take me, won’t you?”

“Of course.” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to, and her eyes flicked up, searching his face.

The week passed too quickly. Every time he came home from work to see her curled up on his couch or folding laundry to some old song on the radio, he told himself not to get used to it. But it was impossible not to, and when the day came, he couldn’t shake the weight in his chest as they loaded the last of her bags into the back of his truck.

The drive to her aunt’s house was quiet. She played with the hem of her dress, and he kept his hands tight on the wheel, like if he gripped hard enough, he could keep her there.

When they pulled up to the modest house on the edge of town, she didn’t move right away. He cut the engine, the silence stretching thin between them.

“I’ll come back on weekends,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“Promise?”

Her head turned, and for the first time all day, she smiled—a small, fragile thing that made his chest ache. “Promise.”

He stepped out, helping her with her bags, and when they reached the porch, he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into him, her head resting against his chest.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy, you know,” he murmured into her hair.

She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm against his stubble. His heart stopped, then kicked back up at double speed.

“Don’t forget me, Max,” she said softly.

“Not a chance.”

The door opened behind her, and a woman—her aunt, he assumed—stepped out, eyeing him curiously.

“And who’s this?”

She glanced back at Max, her eyes lingering on him like she didn’t want to let go. Then she smiled, a little sadly.

“Just a good friend.”

The words stung, but he smiled anyway, stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Take care of her,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Her aunt nodded, ushering her inside. Max stayed on the porch for a moment, watching the door close behind her, the ache in his chest settling into something heavier.

When the weekend came along, Max was in the middle of patching up an old carburetor on a kitchen counter when he heard the knock at the door. He wiped his hands on his jeans and squinted at the clock on the wall. It was late—closer to eight than six—but the knock came again, firm and impatient.

Grumbling under his breath, he crossed the room, swung the door open, and froze.

She was standing there on his porch, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back in that effortless way that always drove him crazy. She smiled up at him, all innocent charm and a hint of mischief, like she hadn’t just made his heart stop.

“Hey,” she said, stepping past him and into the trailer without waiting for an invitation.

“Hey?” he echoed, spinning to follow her. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to call.”

She dropped the bag onto his couch, her smile not faltering in the slightest. “It’s the weekend, isn’t it? I promised I’d come back.”

“Yeah, but—” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to sound stern. “You’re not supposed to just show up. I could’ve come and picked you up, you know.”

She waved him off, heading toward the kitchen. “I’m not helpless, Max. I caught a bus. Besides, I liked the idea of surprising you.”

Max sighed, leaning against the counter as she poked around his cabinets, clearly unimpressed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Hmm.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not fainting when I walked in here.” She gestured to the cluttered counters and the pile of laundry shoved into the corner. “Honestly, the state of this place would make half the church faint.”

Max smirked, crossing his arms. “Well, my cleaning fairy hasn’t been around this week.”

She turned back to him, arching an eyebrow. “Your cleaning fairy?”

“Yeah, little thing. Shows up unannounced, makes herself at home, organises my life for free.” He shrugged, his voice teasing. “She’s gotten kinda bossy, though.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t fight the grin spreading across her face. “Well, your cleaning fairy is back.”

“Don’t.” His voice softened, and she looked up at him in surprise. “Don’t clean, okay? You don’t have to do all that. You’re not here to look after me.”

“I like it.”

Her words were simple, but they hit him harder than they should have. She liked being here, liked taking care of him, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Before he could think of how to respond, she stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. Then, leaning up on her toes, she kissed his cheek, quick and light.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his throat tight. “Anytime.”

Her fingers lingered on his arm for a moment before she turned away, diving into the mess with a determination that made him smile despite himself.

He leaned against the wall, watching her, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in a week. She was impossible, infuriating, and everything he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I was supposed to go out tonight,” he finally said.

She glanced back at him, her hands covered in soap. “Oh?”

“Yeah, Danny called earlier. Said he wanted to hit the bar. I told him I might swing by.” He paused, watching her reaction.

She didn’t seem fazed, just smiled. “You should go. It’s fine.”

He frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

She rinsed a plate, setting it on the drying rack with a satisfying clink. “Max, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“That’s not the point.”

Her gaze softened as she turned to face him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I know you want to stay. But you shouldn’t put your whole life on hold just because I’m here.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but she stepped closer, her expression gentle but firm. “Go out. Have fun. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he debated pushing back. The idea of leaving her here, even for a few hours, felt wrong. But the quiet certainty in her voice eased something in his chest.

“Okay,” he relented. “But only if you promise to text me if you need anything.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips. “Yes, daddy.”

He shot her a mock glare as he grabbed his jacket and keys. At the door, he turned back to her, his hand lingering on the frame. “Don’t clean anything, all right? Just relax.”

“Sure,” she said, a little too quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she waved him off with a laugh, and he finally stepped out into the night.

When Max got to the bar, it was loud and crowded, the kind of place Max usually thrived in, but tonight felt different. Danny was mid-sentence about something—or someone—when Max’s attention drifted again.

He found himself staring at his beer, her voice echoing in his head. I like it here.

“Max, you listening?” Danny nudged him with an elbow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Max muttered, though he wasn’t. His mind was back at the trailer, wondering if she’d actually taken a break or if he’d come home to find everything spotless.

“Man, you’ve been spaced out all night. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Max lied, draining the last of his beer. “I gotta head out.”

Danny raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

When Max got back to the trailer, the place didn’t feel like his.

The counters were wiped clean, the laundry folded and stacked neatly, and even the perpetually sticky spot on the floor by the fridge was gone. He sighed, shaking his head as he locked the door behind him.

“Stubborn,” he muttered, though a smile tugged at his lips.

His gaze landed on the couch, and there she was, curled up under one of his old blankets, her chest rising and falling in soft, even breaths.

“Of course,” he whispered, his voice soft as he crouched beside her.

Carefully, he slid his arms under her, lifting her with ease. She stirred, her head resting against his shoulder as he carried her to the bed.

“Max?” she murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice low.

“I wanted to wait up,” she whispered, her words slurring slightly.

“I know.” He laid her down gently, pulling the blanket over her.

He moved to the dresser, rummaging for a clean shirt to sleep in when her voice, still soft but more awake, stopped him.

“You usually just sleep in boxers.”

He turned, eyebrows raised. “Noticed that, huh?”

She smiled, her eyes half-lidded. “I don’t mind if you do.”

For a second, he didn’t move, her words hanging between them like an unspoken promise. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

Her smile widened, but she was already drifting back to sleep.

Max sighed, tugging his shirt off and tossing it onto the chair. He slid under the blanket beside her, careful not to disturb her. As her breathing evened out again, he let himself relax, the weight of the night fading as he listened to the quiet.

She was here. And for now, that was enough.

The warmth was the first thing Max noticed as he stirred awake. His trailer was always cold in the mornings, the thin walls doing little to keep the night chill at bay, but now there was a soft, comforting heat pressed against his side. He cracked one eye open and immediately froze.

She was curled into him, her head resting on his chest, one arm draped across his torso like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her breath was slow and steady, her face relaxed in sleep, and her fingers clutched lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

Max’s heart thudded hard against his ribs, a deep ache settling in his chest. She fit so perfectly against him, like she’d always belonged there. He lay still, not wanting to wake her, though he couldn’t stop his hand from coming to rest lightly on her back.

The quiet moment stretched, his mind racing with thoughts he wasn’t ready to face, until the smell hit him. Warm, buttery, sweet—pancakes? His brow furrowed as he sniffed the air. Was he imagining things?

He shifted slightly, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at him, her expression soft and drowsy, and he swallowed hard.

“Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice low. “You smell that?”

She smiled, untangling herself from him and sitting up with a yawn. “Yeah. Pancakes.”

He frowned, sitting up as well. “I didn’t even know I had stuff to make pancakes.”

She turned to him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You didn’t. I snuck out earlier and grabbed a few things.”

He blinked. “You went shopping? Without waking me?”

“You looked peaceful,” she said with a shrug, climbing out of bed, not bothering to put the skirt she must have left with earlier back on. 

He was sure that his cause of death was going to be her walking around his trailer in one of his shirts and her stupid cotton panties.

He followed her to the kitchen, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of her slipping out and coming back unnoticed. Sure enough, there was a stack of golden pancakes on the counter, a jar of syrup beside it, and two mismatched plates waiting to be served.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“Thank you,” she replied with a grin, flipping the last pancake onto the stack before turning to him.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing to the pancakes.

“It’s Sunday,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and?”

Her smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something—nervousness, maybe—crossing her face. “It’s church day.”

The realisation hit him like a freight train. Of course. It was her first Sunday since she’d left home. A pang of guilt tugged at him as he imagined what this day must mean to her.

“Right,” he said softly. “Big day.”

She nodded, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

“Do you want me to come with you?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately regretted it. “I mean, I know I’m not exactly the church-going type, but—”

She cut him off with a laugh, her expression softening. “Max, you don’t even own a church-appropriate outfit.”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward his wardrobe. She wasn’t wrong. His idea of formal wear was a clean pair of jeans and a button-up he hadn’t worn in years.

“You sure you don’t want me to tag along?” he asked, feeling strangely out of his depth.

She shook her head, her voice gentle. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. You can wait outside for me this week if you want.”

“Deal,” he said, relief and a hint of disappointment mingling in his chest.

She smiled again, stepping closer and resting a hand on his arm. “Thank you for offering, though. It means a lot.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, clearing his throat and looking away. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

She laughed, her fingers lingering on his arm for a moment before she turned back to the pancakes.

Max leaned against the counter, watching her as she plated their breakfast. She moved with a quiet confidence, her presence filling the small space in a way that felt both comforting and terrifying.

As they sat down to eat, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this Sunday—this moment—was going to stay with him long after she walked out the door.

Max didn’t know what he had with her, but he loved it. He loved every weekend she spent with him, loved the way her presence brightened his space. He loved the little things she did—the soft hum of her voice filling his trailer, the way she folded his shirts with the corners lined up perfectly, and the way she always looked at him like he was more than the guy with grease-stained hands and a rough past.

He didn’t deserve her, and he knew it. But damn if he wasn’t going to soak up every moment she gave him.

It was midweek when she surprised him. The steady rhythm of clanking tools and revving engines filled the garage as Max worked on a beat-up old Ford, grease smudged across his forearms. The day had been uneventful so far, the usual grind of repairs keeping his hands busy and his thoughts on autopilot.

Then she walked in.

He didn’t see her at first, his head buried under the hood, but the sound of her soft “Hi, Max,” was enough to make him straighten immediately, his heart giving an uncharacteristic jump.

She stood near the door, a paper bag in hand, wearing one of those sundresses that always made him weak. Her hair caught the sunlight streaming through the open garage door, and she looked so out of place among the grease and oil stains that it made him grin.

“Hey, angel,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked over to her. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The scent of her shampoo—something floral and sweet—hit him, and he lingered for just a second longer than he should have.

“What’s this?” he asked, nodding toward the bag.

“Lunch,” she said simply, holding it out to him.

His brow furrowed as he took it, glancing inside. A neatly packed sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water stared back at him. “I was fine for lunch,” he said, a little sheepishly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Her lips curved into a knowing smile, and she crossed her arms. “A hot dog and a beer is not healthy for you, Max.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “What, you been spying on me now?”

“I’ve been paying attention,” she countered, stepping closer and poking playfully at his stomach. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll lose your figure.”

“Oh, is that what this is about?” he teased, setting the bag on a nearby workbench. He leaned down slightly, lowering his voice to a flirtatious drawl. “You trying to cop a look at my abs, angel?”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it just enough to reveal his toned stomach, a smirk playing on his lips.

Her face turned bright red, and she quickly looked away, stammering, “You’re impossible.”

“Hey, you started it,” he said with a laugh, dropping his shirt back into place. He couldn’t help but admire the way her blush crept down her neck. She was too easy to fluster, and he loved every second of it.

“I have to catch the bus back soon,” she said after a moment, still avoiding his gaze as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The mention of her leaving tugged at something in his chest, but he nodded. “All right. Thanks for the lunch, though. Really.”

Her smile returned, softer this time. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Always.”

After she left, Max stood by the workbench for a moment, staring at the lunch bag like it was some kind of relic.

“Who was that?” a gruff voice broke his reverie.

Max turned to see his boss, Tommy, leaning against the frame of the garage’s office door, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Just a friend,” Max said, though the words tasted wrong. She was more than that, even if he couldn’t quite put a label on it.

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, sure. A friend who packs you lunch and makes you look like a lovesick puppy every time she’s around.”

“Shut up,” Max muttered, grabbing a wrench and returning to the Ford.

Tommy laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarette before speaking again. “You’ve got balls, kid. Being with the preacher’s daughter? That’s a whole mess I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.”

Max stiffened, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy continued, his tone softening. “But I gotta say... I haven’t seen you this happy since the day you bought that trailer. She’s good for you.”

Max glanced over his shoulder, his grip tightening on the wrench. “Yeah. She is.”

Tommy nodded, stubbing out his cigarette. “Don’t screw it up, kid.”

Max didn’t answer, but as he went under the Ford, he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips. Whatever this thing was with her, he wasn’t letting it go.

No less than a few days later she was stepping out of her last lecture of the day, her bag slung over her shoulder and her friend Sarah chattering animatedly about some party happening over the weekend. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the campus, and the warm breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass.

But then she saw it.

Parked just beyond the gates was a familiar motorbike, its polished chrome glinting in the sunlight. Leaning against it, arms crossed and looking every bit the troublemaker he was, stood Max.

Her breath hitched, a smile spreading across her face before she could stop it. He didn’t belong here—his grease-streaked jeans and leather jacket a stark contrast to the sea of students with their backpacks and books—but somehow, he looked perfect.

“Is that... your boyfriend?” Sarah asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

She hesitated for a split second, then shook her head. “Just a friend.” But her cheeks betrayed her, flushing pink as she adjusted her bag and headed toward him.

As she approached, Max straightened, his expression softening in a way he reserved only for her. “Milady,” he said with a playful smirk, holding out the spare helmet like a knight presenting a prize.

She laughed, her smile widening as she took the helmet from him. “You’re ridiculous,” she teased, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

He didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across his face as she slid the helmet on. Swinging her leg over the back of the bike, she settled behind him, her arms wrapping securely around his waist.

“Hold on tight, angel,” he said, revving the engine.

The ride to her aunt’s was a familiar one now. She’d spent so many weekends at his trailer that the route was second nature, but it never lost its charm. The wind whipped past her, carrying away the stress of the day, and all she could think about was the solid warmth of Max in front of her and the way her heart felt light every time she was with him.

When they pulled up outside her aunt’s house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the world in hues of orange and pink. She slid off the bike, pulling the helmet off and shaking out her hair.

“Drive home safe,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on him.

“For you, always, angel,” he replied, his voice low but steady.

Her lips curved into a small, grateful smile as she turned and headed up the walkway. She glanced back once, just in time to see him watching her, the faintest hint of a smile on his face before he started the engine and roared away into the fading light.

Max never would have referred to his trailer as a home. For years, it had been little more than a roof over his head—a place to sleep and keep his stuff, nothing more. It wasn’t like the house he’d known she’d grown up in, with its creaking floors and warm kitchen smells, or even the crummy apartment he’d shared with Danny in his early twenties.

But now...

Now there were little reminders of her everywhere. A book she’d left on the coffee table, its pages dog-eared in the way she knew drove him crazy. A neatly folded throw blanket she’d brought over one chilly night. The small vase on the windowsill, holding wildflowers she’d picked on a whim.

She hadn’t moved in—not really. But every item she left behind, every small touch of hers that lingered, made the space feel warmer. More alive.

More like home.

Max sat on the couch, his gaze drifting over the room. His place was still rough around the edges—there was no hiding the peeling wallpaper or the worn linoleum floors—but with her here, even in these small ways, it felt different.

He picked up the book she’d left, turning it over in his hands. The corners were bent, and a faint scent of her perfume clung to the pages. He shook his head with a smile, setting it back down.

Yeah, he thought, leaning back against the cushions. She made it feel like home.

<3 <3 <3

Max’s life continued with her like this for another eleven months. Each day, it felt like he was living in a dream he never wanted to wake up from. They fell into a rhythm—a routine that felt as comforting as it was impossible to believe.

She was no longer just the preacher’s daughter he had met outside a Church. She was part of his life, his home. More than half the time, she stayed at his place now, spending her nights curled up on his couch, reading or laughing at some ridiculous things he'd say, more often than not in the same oversized t-shirt she’d first worn when she moved in. Her presence filled every corner of his small, humble space, making it feel less like a place where he merely existed and more like somewhere he belonged.

He had never pushed her for anything—never tried to rush her into kissing him, never demanded more than what she was willing to give. There were moments where he could feel the pull between them, when their eyes lingered a little longer or their hands brushed in ways that made his heart race, but he was patient. She had her own pace, and for once, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. She had her own life to rebuild, and he was content to be a steady presence in it.

She still went to church every Sunday, keeping that part of her life separate, even though she never spoke to her father anymore. Church was the one thing she still clung to, the only part of her old life that hadn’t unravelled completely. Max didn’t understand it—he couldn’t—but he never asked her to give it up. If it brought her peace, if it helped her hold on to a piece of herself, then he respected it. He just wished she would let him share in it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

And then, the day finally came.

Max had been saving for months, every extra penny he made going toward the dream he’d never dared to voice out loud—the dream of getting them out of the cramped, creaky trailer and into something better. A place where she didn’t have to worry about the walls being thin or the smell of grease lingering in the air. Something more... theirs.

He had found it. A small but cosy apartment uptown, with high ceilings and a view of the city skyline. It was perfect for them—quiet, private, and just far enough from everything they both needed to escape from. He’d signed the lease that morning, a rush of pride and anticipation filling his chest as he pictured her reaction.

When she walked through the door that evening, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty as he met her at the door.

“I got us a place,” he said, his voice thick with excitement.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the suddenness of his words, but the moment she saw the joy in his eyes, the realisation hit her. She stepped forward, her face lighting up with the kind of smile that made everything else fade into the background.

“Max...” she whispered, and without thinking, without hesitating, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close.

Her lips found his in an instant.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, not one of those cautious first kisses that came with hesitations or uncertainty. It was full of the weight of everything that had built up between them—the months of waiting, the slow burn of tension that had been simmering beneath the surface. Their kiss was deep, heated, urgent, as if they both had been holding their breath and were finally allowed to exhale.

Max’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body against his. He deepened the kiss, his lips claiming hers as if he had waited an eternity for this moment. He felt her fingers thread through his hair, tugging him closer, her body pressing into his with a desperation that matched his own.

It was the kind of kiss that shook him to the core, that made everything else in the world fade into the background—her soft breath against his lips, the quiet hum of the city outside, the rush of blood in his ears. All that mattered was her.

Her arms slid up around his neck, her body melting against his, and for the first time in a year, Max felt like he had finally found the place where he belonged.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, their breaths ragged, she looked at him with something that could only be described as wonder. Her eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and there was a softness in her gaze that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

Max smiled, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the space between them. Her hands lingered on his chest, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his. He had never known a kiss could feel so much like coming home.

He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. “We... we really did it, huh?”

She nodded, her smile widening. “We did.”

Max had never been one for big, sweeping gestures. But with her, it was different. Everything about her made him want to be more than the guy who had nothing. He wanted to be the man who made her feel safe, cherished, loved. He wanted to give her everything—everything she deserved.

He kissed her again, slower this time, his lips brushing over hers as if savouring the sweetness of the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he smiled down at her, his hand gently cupping her face.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he said softly.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place, but it was the kind of look that made his heart stutter in his chest. “No, Max,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. “I’m the lucky one.”

And for the first time, in a long time, Max allowed himself to believe it. He wasn’t just living with her. He wasn’t just sharing space with her.

He was building a life with her. A life that, even in its quiet moments, felt like everything.

And for the first time, he realised what home truly was.

The kiss lingered in the air between them, warm and slow, as if time had stretched to accommodate the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Max’s hands rested gently on her waist, feeling the soft press of her body against his, and the faint sound of their shared breath was the only noise in the room. They were tangled together—hearts racing, bodies melting into each other—as though nothing else mattered.

For the first time in a year, Max felt completely alive. Completely whole.

She pulled away slightly, breathless, her cheeks flushed and eyes wide, still processing the heat of the kiss, the weight of what it meant. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers one last time, a soft whisper against her skin.

“Marry me.”

The words were so quiet, so soft, that for a second, she thought she had imagined them. She blinked, drawing back slightly to look at him, her chest tightening with uncertainty. “What?”

Max smiled at her confusion, a hint of something deeper in his eyes. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumb running along her jawline as if trying to memorise every detail of her. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers as he whispered again, more seriously this time, “Marry me, angel.”

She froze for a heartbeat, thinking it was some sort of joke, some playful teasing. The idea of Max, the guy who’d never believed in love or commitment, asking her something like that was almost impossible to believe.

But the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability she had never seen from him before, made her heart skip a beat. There was no hint of jest, no trace of humour. He meant it.

Max saw the hesitation in her eyes and gently kissed her lips again, his voice rough and low as he pulled back just enough to speak.

“I never thought I’d make it past twenty-one,” he began, his gaze intense, almost haunted, as if these words were ones he had carried inside him for far too long. “I’ve been lost for so long. I didn’t think I’d ever have a reason to keep going, to fight for anything.”

She could hear the rawness in his voice, the weight of everything he had lived through—the loneliness, the struggles, the doubts. His eyes searched hers, looking for understanding, for a connection that only she could give.

“But you, angel...” His voice softened, but the words still hit her like a wave, sweeping away any doubts. “You’ve given me hope. You’ve given me a reason to live. A reason to fight for something better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it was peaceful, full of something unspoken, something they both felt but had never truly expressed until now.

She could feel her heart racing, her emotions swelling inside her chest, a warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Max—rough-around-the-edges Max, the guy who had been her rock for so long—was here, telling her that she had been the reason he had found the strength to keep going.

With her, he had found his reason.

“I...” Her voice faltered, thick with emotion, and she cupped his face in her hands, leaning in closer. “Yes, Max. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he kissed her again, this time softer, more tender, as though sealing a promise. She melted into it, her fingers threading through his hair, holding on to him as if this moment was the only one that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, the weight of their promise hanging in the air, Max’s hands moved slowly down her body. He smiled as he reached for her purity ring, the symbol of the life she had left behind. With the gentleness of someone who understood the significance of the gesture, he took the ring off her finger.

“I’ve got something for you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Max took one of his necklaces, a simple silver chain that had always felt like a part of him, and threaded her ring onto it. He placed it around his neck, letting the cool metal of the ring rest against her skin. “This is you now,” he said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers. “And I’m the only one who gets to wear it.”

Her fingers gently touched the ring, feeling the warmth of her promise against him.

Then, Max reached down to his own hand, taking off a ring—one he never took off, the one that had been his symbol of defiance for years. He hadn’t given it to anyone else, and he certainly hadn’t planned on giving it to anyone. But now, with her, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

With a steady hand, he reached for the cross necklace she always wore, taking it between his fingers and slipping the ring onto it. The cool metal of his ring clicked against the chain, its weight heavier than it had ever felt before.

“This one’s for you,” he said softly, brushing her hair behind her ear as he tucked the cross back against her skin. “Because we’re in this together now. No going back.”

She stared at the ring hanging from her necklace, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions—love, disbelief, and gratitude. She had never imagined a life like this. But now, with him, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“I’m ready, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m ready to start this new part of my life. With you.”

Max pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if she was the most precious thing in the world, and whispered against her hair, “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

And in that moment, with her purity ring around his neck and his own ring on her cross necklace, it was clear to both of them that this was only the beginning.

The beginning of forever.

taglist: @sinofwriting @le-le-lea @vanicogh @iamred-iamyellow @rayaskoalaland @spookyanamurdock @iimplicitt

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part IV)

Your attempts to cater to their needs only leave them confused and concerned. However, just when you think of giving up, more barriers are broken.

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers; Liyue Archon Quest Act IV Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom;

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When Genshin finally finished loading, you found your player character back where you originally left them before you were forced unconscious; in the bustling streets of Chihu Rock. The first thing you noticed was the red exclamation marks over the Paimon Menu, Events Menu, and Battle Pass Menu. However, you saw these exclamation marks nearly every time you logged on to Genshin, so you weren't surprised.

What does surprise you is that so far, everything appears to be... normal.

The Traveler was currently doing one of their idle animations, the NPCs were all in their familiar spots, and the leaves were subtly floating to the ground...

You began to grow suspicious.

You moved the Traveler one step to the left, cutting off their idle animation. They moved as you expected. Then you moved them right. Then up. Then down.

You looked at their face. They were staring back at you with lifeless eyes.

"But they're not lifeless..." you commented.

Next, you opened up the preceding menus. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Even Paimon was doing her usual shtick.

Finally, you turned the Traveler away from your gaze and had them walk a few steps forward. You had them perform their normal attack combo. No signs of restraint were noticeable.

"...I guess everything is as normal as possible," you noted. "I'll still do everything I promised myself I would do. I don't want to be deceived by false appearances."

You opened the party setup and began to remove everyone from your party aside from the Traveler. You had decided that since nobody specifically asked the Traveler to join them on their travels, you should only use the Traveler from now on. Sure, that may make things harder for you, but you were willing to take on the extra challenge if it meant that everybody was happy.

However, as much as you would prefer to avoid it, you knew that fighting enemies was inevitable. You were just going to need to be extra careful while fighting to make sure that the Traveler doesn't get hit.

"It's almost like I'm doing a no-hit challenge," you chuckled.

Lastly, you were going to take your time doing long quests such as Archon and Story quests. You figure that doing so many quests in a short amount of time would be tiring to the Traveler. Especially with how grueling some of them can be.

With that being said, you took the time to quickly organize the pages of notes on your side before setting off to the first commission of the day, conveniently in Liyue Harbor of all places.

...By walking, of course. Strictly walking while inside cities should be the norm from now on.

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The Traveler was nearly quivering in excitement.

The adrenaline rush that they got when they realized [Y/N] was back in Teyvat made them all hyper and focused. They were ready to do anything and everything with you. They wanted to sprint across the widest plains; climb atop the tallest mountains; and fight against the strongest enemies.

However, they have learned before that they need to be patient.

Over time, they have come to realize many patterns that you have while guiding them throughout Teyvat. One of these patterns was that you normally started working on the daily commissions first.

So they were a little surprised when the first thing you did was move them around, almost like you were testing to see if they would still follow your guidance.

"You don't have to worry about that, [Y/N]," they thought. "I'll always be here for you."

Not to worry though, [Y/N] went ahead and guided them to all the places where the commissions took place afterward. However, there were some things that they noticed while they were completing them.

The commissions involving the common folk and the time challenges went about the same way. It was the fighting commissions that had them asking questions.

What was the best way to describe it...? They still had no problem defeating the enemies, don't get them wrong, but they noticed that you seemed to be a little more... cautious?

Normally, [Y/N] would have them rush in and start swinging. Sure, this was reckless at times, and got themselves hit a couple of times, but that was honestly the fighting style that they were most accustomed to. However, this time they noticed that for whichever enemies they were fighting, they would focus on one at a time and balance an attack with a couple of dodges whenever their opponent attempted to strike back.

Furthermore, they also noticed that they were the only ones fighting. They know that [Y/N] is capable of guiding at most four people at once. So why were they only using them?

"Perhaps I can ask Paimon whenever [Y/N] leaves." they thought.

Not that they wanted you to leave, no no no. You had just come back to Teyvat after a whole week! They wanted to make up for lost time.

"If I counted right, that's all the commissions for today. Just got to visit Kathryne and then we can continue with our day. I wonder what we will get to do today. Are we gonna do some exploring? Fight amongst the ley lines? Meet up with old friends? I can't wait!"

They waited for their exchange with Kathryne to end so they could get back to your guidance. But suddenly, they began to feel themselves gaining control over their body.

...Wait.

... ... ...

Oh no...

...No...

No. No. No. No. NO! NO! NO! NO!

They know this feeling all too well. It was their least favorite part of the day.

...It was when you left Teyvat.

Just as their fears were confirmed, they gained control over their body again. Horrified, they quickly looked up at Celestia and prayed to the Archons that what was happening wasn't real.

Unfortunately, the light from Celestia came and went. [Y/N] was gone...

"Aww, already?" Paimon groaned, appearing out of thin air. "Paimon thought that [Y/N] would stay just a little bit longer."

The Traveler's eyes never left Celestia. They were holding on to the slim hope that the light would return. That [Y/N] would come right back and continue our adventures.

...But it never came.

"Hey, Traveler. Are you alright? You haven't moved in a while."

The Traveler finally took their eyes away from Celestia and sadly looked at Paimon. "I was so happy that [Y/N] came back. I was looking forward to spending all day with them. But in the end, they were only here for a few hours."

Paimon solemnly nodded. "Yeah, Paimon gets where you're coming from. But Paimon also says not to worry! It isn't often that [Y/N] leaves after completing the daily commissions. Maybe this is a one-time thing?"

The Traveler gave it some thought. They suppose that what Paimon is saying is true. There's no guarantee that this will happen again tomorrow.

Their mood picked up. "You're right, Paimon. Hopefully, we get to adventure with [Y/N] longer tomorrow."

Paimon smiled. "That's the spirit! Trust Paimon when she says that everything is going to be alright!"

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

Time Skip

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...

... ...

... … …

...Three days...

It's been three days since [Y/N] first came back to Teyvat. They have since come back every day afterward.

...Three days...

It's been three days of completing commissions...

...And nothing else.

...Three days...

It's been three days since the Traveler realized that they were the only person [Y/N] used in their "adventure team".

They still remember how heartbroken Amber was when they met her.

"It wasn't something I did, was it?" she fretted with sorrowful eyes.

"Of course not!" they reassured, "You've done nothing wrong!"

However, they could tell that their words were not effective at uplifting the normally bright and cheerful outrider.

Now, [Y/N] was guiding them back to Kathryne again. Most likely the end of another day together.

... ... …

...No.

"I REFUSE!"

Going against [Y/N]'s guidance, they stopped in place. They were not going to let [Y/N] leave this time! They felt a couple of forceful nudges from [Y/N] but they were going to hold their ground for as long as it takes.

"No more commissions, [Y/N]. Let's go back to before. Explore Teyvat! Go fishing! Search for my sibling! Just don't leave again!"

...

... ...

... … …

...-hy?

..."Huh?"

"What di- ... -o wrong?"

"Is that...?" they wondered.

"I thought ... was doing ... -thing right?"

"[Y/N]?"

"I've done all the things that match their preferences. I've removed all the people who have jobs that prioritize their duties over adventuring; I've been careful while fighting enemies; I've even been spending as little time as possible to conserve their energy. So why are they still unhappy?

...So that's what has been the issue.

They wanted to tell you everything that was on their mind. But they couldn't bypass the restriction placed upon them.

This restriction in particular involved speaking freely towards [Y/N]. From what they understand, they are never able to say anything while being guided by [Y/N]. Instead, Paimon does most of the talking.

They still don't know much about it.

"...Maybe I'm not cut out for this after all. I should've known better..."

They didn't need to be told what that meant for the future.

After hearing that last sentence, they fought as hard as they could to break the speaking restriction, to tell [Y/N] something, anything, to stop them from leaving.

When they gained the slightest control over their body, they shouted: "[Y/N]! Wait! Don't leave!"

However, it didn't appear that they even heard them. Furthermore, they instantly felt a painful shock rush through their body. Punishment for breaking the rules.

The shock brought them to the ground, and they were in too much pain to notice the light from Celestia. And from what they had to guess, potentially for the last time.

"Traveler!" Paimon screamed, immediately floating down to nudge their body. "Quick! Get up! Get up! We've got to do something or else [Y/N] will be gone forever!"

Slowly but steadily, the Traveler brought themselves to their feet. They felt more defeated than ever. "It's too late, Paimon... I couldn't stop [Y/N] from leaving... It's all my fault."

Paimon was quick to shake her head. "Don't say that! You already know that we've never been able to talk with [Y/N] in the past."

"That still doesn't change the fact that [Y/N] is probably gone forever. They're never coming back."

Paimon frowned. She hadn't seen the Traveler like this since they met their sibling with Dainsleif. But as much as she wanted to cheer the Traveler up, she needed to find a way to reach [Y/N]. She quickly used all of her brain juice to come up with a solution.

"Paimon has an idea! Why don’t we ask Zhongli for help? He did assist us last time.”

The Traveler let out a weak, sad chuckle. “I doubt even Zhongli would know what to do in this scenario.”

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

"I may know something we can do."

"Really?!" "You do?!" Both Paimon and the Traveler exclaimed respectively.

They really should stop doubting the capabilities of this man.

"I have no guarantee that this will work," explained Zhongli, "but I'm curious to see the results. I believe you two are familiar with the adepti art 'dream trawling'?"

"Mhm," Paimon nodded, "We were with Xiao when he had us perform it."

"I see. That will make things easier to understand," Zhongli remarked, closing his eyes. "If [Y/N] won't come to Teyvat anymore..."

His eyes opened, filled to the brim with determination. "We'll simply have to extend them an invitation."

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Author Side Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. I was struggling with how I wanted to write this.

Additionally, I've felt like my writing is lacking with descriptors. I feel like I keep saying words like 'said', 'asked', and 'nodded' a lot, especially in the last chapter. I've gone back and edited as much of it as I could.

I want to do my best to write all of these characters so I feel pretty bad whenever I'm unable to properly describe a character's thoughts or emotions. Maybe it's something that I'll get better at as I continue writing.

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do either Steve or Eddie x reader. Reader was being clingy and then Steve or Eddie tells them to leave them alone so they can finish work but then feel bad and apologize by eating out the reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Apologies

Eddie had been locked in on a new idea for his campaign, sitting on Y/N's bed. She sat next to him, slowly losing her patience. When Eddie asked to come over she was delighted to hang out with her boyfriend, but he's been occupied ever since he arrived.

"Eddie, it's been two hours. Can you please take a break?" she whined. But as expected, he didn't answer. He scribbled on the piece of paper, his attention nowhere on her.

She sighed as he didn't reply. She stood up and snapped her fingers in his face, "Hello?"

"Can you quit it?" Eddie snapped, slapping away her fingers. He never once looked up from the notebook.

"Can you pay attention to me?" she asked, moving her hands to her hips.

"I always pay attention to you, I'm busy right now. Just give me a second," he sighed annoyed. She rolled her eyes but sat next to him on the bed. She cuddled herself near him, placing her head on his shoulder. She sat there for a few minutes, trying her best to wait. But then a few minutes turned into almost thirty minutes.

"Eddie?" she asked again, nothing in response.

She groaned and grabbed the notebook, yanking it out of his hands.

"HEY!" he yelled, she stood up and held it behind her back.

"Can I have your attention for at least an hour?" she whined. She felt ignored and it upset her.

"How about you leave me alone and I'll finish my campaign. Then I'll give as much attention as your clingy ass wants, okay?" He snapped. She could see the annoyance in his eyes, and how pissed he was in his voice.

She didn't bother to reply this time, hurt by his words. She just scoffed and harshly threw the notebook at his chest. She watched it smack his chest with a thump and land in his lap.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he sighed. Already aware his attitude and harsh words were uncalled for. He groaned to himself when she rolled her eyes and stomped over to her desk. She pulled out a random book and pretended to read the words.

"I know I'm an ass. I'm sorry for being mean, okay?" his voice was much softer than it was. But she didn't reply. "Silent treatment, great," he muttered to himself. He slid off the bed and walked over to her desk. He placed his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss her head.

"You're right. I came here to spend time with you, I'm sorry I ignored you and called you clingy," he apologized. He was met with silence, then the sound of the page harshly being turned.

"You have every right to be upset with me," he whispered. He pushed her hair to the side, leaning down to place teasing kisses on her neck. He finally got some sort of reaction when her breath hitched. "Can I make it up to you, pretty girl?" he softly sucked her neck, closing his eyes as she let out a quiet moan.

She didn't say anything, but she turned her head to give him more access. He took that as a yes. He smiled against her skin and prepped kisses all around her neck. She closed her eyes as his tongue danced along her neck, shivering as his teeth softly nipped her skin.

She whined when he pulled away, her puppy eyes looking at him over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, baby girl. I'm not going anywhere," he promised. She watched as he dropped to his knees and disappeared under her desk.

"Eddie? What are yo-oh," she cut herself off with a moan when Eddie's fingers brushed across her covered cunt. She moaned as his large hands worked up her thighs, his cold rings made goosebumps cover her skin.

"Lift up, baby,"

She obeyed and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug down her pants and underwear. She closed her eyes as he spread open her legs, shuffling himself between them as he leaned in. She jumped as he softly kissed her clit, his fingers running up and down between her folds.

"Damn, gorgeous. You are soaked," he purred. His fingers continued to tease her folds, soaking his fingers. She whined, moving her hands into his hair. She gave him a rough tug, yanking him closer to her cunt.

He got the hint and quit teasing. He slipped two fingers inside of her, making her moan out as she clenched around him. He rubbed his nose against her clit, loving the way she slumped in the chair. With his free hand, he moved up her body, and he wiggled his wrist to catch her attention. She opened her heavy eyes when she heard his bracelets clink together.

"Tie me up, baby," he spoke against her, she twitched when his breath hit her clit. She grabbed his wrist and pulled off the black band. She blindly collected his messy curls and tied them into a pony. With his hair tied back, Eddie dove in.

She gripped the desk when his fingers began to slide in and out of her, his mouth latching on to her clit. He was messy and careless, his tongue moving side to side, up and down, and making circles. She melted into the chair as he ate her out, his skilled tongue turning her into a blubbering mess.

"Fuck, Eddie," she moaned. She couldn't help but rock her hips. Sinking his fingers deeper inside of her and moving against his tongue.

Eddie continued to lick and suck her clit, moving his fingers faster. She cried out and clenched her thighs, trapping Eddie's head between them. Not that he cared.

She gasped as he began to hum against her clit, the vibrations making her shake as she clawed her desk. He removed his mouth, using his thumb to rub lazy circles on her clit. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean. He moaned at the taste of her.

He softly kissed her thighs, her mind hazy from his touch on her clit. She jumped when she felt his tongue trace the outside of her hole, and then the tip of his tongue slipped inside. Her jaw fell open as she silently cried out, his tongue flicking inside of her as his thumb pressed down on her clit. She felt her stomach burn as her orgasm began to build.

"Fuck, fuck...gonna...I need-" her words came out breathless and broken. She dug her hands in his hair as she felt herself snap. Eddie groaned as she pulled his hair, not caring how much his head burned.

She cried out as she came undone, letting herself go on Eddie's tongue. He happily cleaned up her mess, feeling her drip down his chin.

She shuddered as he softly kissed her cunt. Then he pulled her underwear back up her legs and covered her back up. He moved out from under the desk, wiping his chin as he stood back up on his feet. He looked down at his girlfriend, smirking as she tried to catch her breath.

"Forgiven?" he asked, turning her chair to face him. He leaned down and pecked her lips, she softly kissed him back.

"Yes," she said against his lips.

Tags

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[stxrvel]

disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

-

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

-

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

--

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

[mewtwoandme]

Guess whaaaaaaat~

>:3

I'm still working on the prompts, I promise! But I got the motivation and urge to work on the story again, so I was outlining the next couple pages of the arc