#The first episodes seem so simple and now?

[frflyavenue]

Under Your Touch - Chapter 5

Pairing: poly!Ateez x makeup artist!Reader (fem!Reader)

Warnings: (romantic?) tension, casual swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, PTSD, minor PTSD episode, platonic affection, work (eww), food/eating

Author’s Note: Hope you guys enjoy! Our y/n is getting (literally) closer to her coworkers~

Join me on ao3 @frflyavenue

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

WC: 3.8k

Chapter 5: Catnaps

It’s been three weeks since you started working among the Ateez staff. 

Wooyoung is equally, if not moreso, difficult to wake up every morning. It seems that now, when he wakes up and realizes it’s you, he decides to be stubborn for the sake of pushing your buttons. It’s all in good fun, of course, but Hongjoong has strongly advised you to stop being so lenient on the younger man, else he’ll “just keep being a pain in the ass”. You kept it in mind.

Jongho has gotten into the habit of bringing you snacks nearly every morning, explaining that he was concerned about you not eating breakfast before starting work. At first you felt bad and decided to bring your own food, not wanting him to waste his energy worrying over you. But he still continued bringing you snacks, claiming that he has too many at home anyways. Wooyoung told you that it was the maknae’s version of a sort of peace offering, so you decided not to question it.

You still aren’t a part of the travel team, but you’ve been spending more time than not at the studio recently. It’s a simple routine. In the mornings, you carry out your normal duties of getting Wooyoung and Jongho ready for the day, and you clean up after everybody when they leave. You usually grab lunch at home and return to the studio with your drawing tablet. You spend time after that lounging around on the comfortable couch and sketching various designs while you wait for Hyerin to return.

You’ve taken to designing makeup looks on more members than just Wooyoung and Jongho, for fun. It’s a good idea to study the other members' faces, you decide–you never know when an opportunity will present itself. Plus, it’s never unpleasant to scroll through reference photos.

The makeup staff usually return a few hours into the afternoon, and it’s become a habit to curl up on the couch while you wait for the members to arrive. Two weeks ago, when you mentioned to Hyerin your affinity for cat napping, she insisted on inviting you to join her for her afternoon naps. Since then, each morning you find yourself looking forward to your half-hour cuddle sessions with your very warm unnie and the occasional Ara-nim who joins when she gets the chance.

The members have also started spending more time at the studio. Hyerin explained that the studio is in a convenient place in the city to crash for a few hours in between schedules, so you spend plenty of time carefully maneuvering around sleeping members every afternoon. Usually, this is the time the makeup and stylist teams hold meetings in the backroom of the studio, discussing upcoming comeback plans, updating shifts and schedules, and collaborating on how to doll up the members. You tend to take a backseat during these meetings since you’re still earning your place on the team, but it feels nice to be included regardless.

That’s where you find yourself now, sat between Hyerin-unnie and Yoon Sohee-nim, who’s furiously scribbling on her notebook to maneuver schedules and manage shifts for the whole team. What a difficult job, you surmise with a sympathetic wince, respectfully scooting away from her to give her space.

The upcoming comeback is approaching rapidly, and stress is high. There are three weeks left for preparation–finalizing outfits, hair and makeup, filming music videos, promotion interviews, dress rehearsals, and god knows what else–before Ateez gets a one-week break while staff tailors outfits and MVs get edited. After that… 6 weeks of tour. You wonder how everyone manages.

“One thing at a time,” you hear Hyerin-unnie butt in, diffusing a stressed ramble from a veteran stylist. “For now, we need to focus on the issue at hand. Concept design.” 

You purse your lips bitterly. The stylist and makeup teams spent weeks designing stage and MV outfits for the upcoming comeback, perfecting them and getting everything approved. It looked fantastic… until someone higher up on the KQ ladder pointed out how similar it was to another group's comeback a few years ago. It only took a day of investigation before a stylist was fired for plagiarism, and the whole team was left to start from scratch.

It seems you aren’t the only one thinking about last week's drama. “It sucks,” Hyerin sighs. “But it’s doable if we all pitch in.”

Ara-nim agrees with a serious nod. “Agreed. I was thinking over this yesterday, and I think the best course of action here is good old-fashioned brainstorming. I’ve already discussed this with my team, and we all plan to individually come up with as many concept sketches as possible before our meeting on Wednesday. Hyerin-nim, would it be reasonable to ask your team to do the same?”

Hyerin raises an eyebrow. “You want the makeup team to sketch outfit design?”

“Yeah, if you would. You all have creative and artistic ability to some extent, and any help is appreciated. We’ve got the art department in on it too.”

Hyerin ponders for a moment before giving a thoughtful nod. “I can agree to that. We can’t really start hair and makeup until outfits are done, anyways.”

Ara smiles gratefully, turning to address the whole table. “It’s decided then. Everybody here is capable of coming up with ideas for this. There aren’t any rules, just read over the concept descriptions and sketch whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t need to be high quality drawing, we’ll worry about that later. Just pump out as many as possible. Sohee-nim, can you extend Wednesday’s meeting by a few hours so we have time to look everything over?”

 Sohee gives a curt nod in response, scribbling on her notepad. 

“Perfect. I’ll talk with Eden and management to see if we’re allowed to listen to the tracks. If so, I'll forward them to you as soon as possible. Understood?”

There’s a tired chorus of affirmation and the meeting is dismissed.

Two days. You have two days to produce as many concept sketches as possible before your meeting on Wednesday. You all just have to pray that at least a few of them are good enough to use by then.

With a sigh, you run your hand through your hair, flopping down onto the couch. The meeting went a little over today–the members should all be back from whatever schedule they’re having in twenty minutes or so. Hyerin takes a seat next to you, releasing a similar tense breath.

“This whole thing is ridiculous,” Hyerin expresses now that the two of you are alone. You nod in agreement. “Everything was looking so good, too. Goddammit.” 

“Yeah, this is less than ideal,” you murmur. “Do you think we’ll really have anything  by Wednesday?”

Hyerin just purses her lips, and you know that she’s wondering the same.

You stretch your neck from side to side, feeling tension creep up your spine. 

“Nap time?” you propose innocently, deciding to leave worrying for future Y/N. Hyerin offers a small smile, leaning against the side of the couch and reaching an inviting arm toward you. You don’t hesitate to curl up into her side, happily resting your head on the plushness of her breast. It only takes a minute for you to drift off in the safe arms of your favorite unnie.

—---------

You awake to the feeling of fingers carding through your hair, the low buzz of gentle conversation surrounding you. You’ve been moved to lay fully down on your side with your head resting on Hyerin’s warm thighs, and while it’s not quite as comfortable as before, the rhythmic scritching at your scalp very well makes up for it. The corners of your mouth twitch up contentedly, eyes slowly blinking awake.

“Oh, there she is~” you hear Ara-nim coo somewhere in the room, and you smile bashfully. She chuckles fondly. “Everybody got back a few minutes ago. Turns out the schedule for later today got cancelled, so we’re all just hanging out here at the studio.”

Your face must portray your excitement, because she lets out a fond laugh.

“I know, right? It’s a blessing.” She leans on one hip. “It gives us more time to sketch~”

Your face now portrays disdain. She laughs again.

“Okay,” you comply, though your voice is clipped with a small groan. “...Can I sleep for ten more minutes, then?”

Ara raises an eyebrow. “Oh? That sounds awfully familiar to another certain coworker I know.” There's an offended scoff from where Wooyoung is sprawled out playing mobile games with Yunho, and you roll your eyes with a small grin.

“Please?” you try again, pouting. You’ve gotten quite close with Ara-nim recently, but this is the first time you’ve flashed her your puppy eyes. The poor woman can’t resist it.

“Oh, you precious little thing! Of course you can nap a little while longer, baby. You’ve worked so hard~”

You grin in victory as the stylist turns to join back with her group, simply closing your eyes and nuzzling into the warmth of Hyerin’s lap. Noticing the severe lack of fingers playing with your hair, you reach up to grab Hyerin’s hand and tug it back to its place on your scalp.

But the hand you grab isn’t the soft, delicate hand of your unnie.

It’s too warm, and too strong. It’s larger, rougher, with calloused palms from work–definitely not Hyerin’s hand. Definitely, definitely not a woman’s hand, at the very least.

You freeze.

Oh god.

He’s here. 

He’s here and you’re lying in his lap, and you just pulled his hand and bossed him around and-

He clears his throat, and you’re quick to sit up, eyes blown wide with fear as you meet his eyes. 

Except it isn’t him. He’s far younger, far handsomer, and he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s… San.

San offers a small flustered smile, hand still hovering. “Ah, h-hey Y/N-ah.”

You blink, at a loss for words. When you do speak, all you manage to get out is a small “Where’s Unnie?”

He rubs the back of his neck, eyebrows twitching at your expression. “Hyerin-ssi had to go to a surprise meeting when we got here, and she asked me to take over. I’m sorry to surprise you.”

Your heart is racing embarrassingly fast, and you feel suddenly dizzy as the moths in your stomach stir. “I, uh, thank you, San-ah,” you manage, standing up. “I’m gonna go make myself some coffee.” 

You flash him a small, forced smile before slipping into the quiet backroom, closing the door behind you and immediately finding a spot to slide to the floor, too dizzy to stand. 

You lean back against the cool wood of the cabinets behind you, letting your head tilt back and lean against it as you tuck your knees closer to your chest. Taking notice of your stuttering breath, you close your eyes. In 4 seconds. Hold 4 seconds. Out 4 seconds. It comes with ease, a practiced pattern that never fails to do the trick. Fingers twitching with the need to fidget, you reach to play with the hem of your sweater, relaxing with the feeling of the soft woven fabric under your fingertips.

Goddammit. You groan, embarrassed. Not this again. What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? Now San-ah thinks you’re a weirdo.

The door to the backroom slowly cracks open, and a muscular frame slips in with surprising grace before closing the door again, careful to make sure it doesn’t make noise.

Speaking of.

He approaches and quietly sits along the same wall as you, keeping a respectful distance. “..Y/N-ah?”

You sit up straight and turn to face him, thinking clearer now that your heart isn’t palpitating. “Hey, San-ah.”

He looks worried, the poor guy. It makes sense, you suppose, considering your sudden escape just moments ago. You offer a more genuine smile, but he frowns deeper.

“Y/N-ah, I’m sorry for… that. Having you nap on me and playing with your hair, and everything. Hyerin-noona said that you don’t mind cuddling up with anyone, but I still shouldn’t have just assumed that it would be okay, and I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable around me. I’m really, really sorry.”

Your face softens. His eyes are so kind, slightly glossy from guilt and soft with worry as he looks over at you. So different from the eyes of the man you thought he was. How could you have ever thought it was him? You swallow, your smile turning watery.

“Oh, Sannie-ah, it wasn’t your fault,” you explain softly, not able to bear his look of guilt for a moment longer. You offer him a gentle hand, and he tentatively checks your eyes before taking it, just holding it in his palm.

“Are you sure?” He confirms softly, and you realize with a pang in your chest that he’s holding back tears.

You immediately nod, squeezing his slightly trembling hand. “I promise. I… I’m just kind of weird with touch, sometimes,” you explain, calm. “It has nothing to do with you, really. Hyerin-unnie was right, I don’t mind cuddling at all. I only panicked a little bit because I wasn’t expecting it to be you when I woke up.”

San nods, still not seeming convinced. His pretty eyes are still all watery, and the lingering moths fluttering in your stomach are chased out by a protective warmth. You scoot closer to him until your thighs are touching, wanting to share it.

“Regardless of if you’re okay with it, I should’ve asked first,” he explains, genuine. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh, reaching up and suddenly pinching his cheek. The action takes him by surprise, a small noise escaping his throat as he stares at you with wide eyes. “I swear, San-ah, if you apologize one more time there won't be any more cuddling.”

San shuts up at that, clearly at a loss for words. You continue.

“Maybe it would have been a good idea to ask me first, but Hyerin-unnie told you that I was okay with it and you had every reason to trust her. I did tell her that. It was a small mistake, and I’m not upset. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman since I met you, and there was no way you could’ve known I would get startled.”

San nods, clearly listening, but his eyes flicker downward to watch over your conjoined hands. You brush your thumb over the back of his hand reassuringly, eyes firm and honest. “I promise you it’s okay. I’d be happy to cuddle with you–or any of the members–any time. Just be sure to ask me first next time.”

San smiles softly now, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little even as they shimmer..

“Okay,” he says finally, shoulders relaxing fully now. “Should I tell the other members, too?”

You nearly coo at his consideration, nodding. “I would appreciate that very much. Make sure to tell them that I’m open for cuddling anytime.”

San raises an eyebrow, smiling playfully. “Are you sure you want to do that? I don’t think you’ll ever get them off of you.”

You laugh heartily at that, eyes twinkling. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

After a moment, San’s playful smile turns bashful, pink dusting his cheeks as he squeezes your hand in his much warmer one. You both fall quiet for a moment, letting the silence linger like wisps of fog around you. It’s broken only when San builds up his courage with a shy clear of his throat.

“In that case, can we go back to the couch for another nap?”

You giggle, finding him way too precious for his own good. It’s a good thing he’s not a dongsaeng–if he was, you think you would suffocate him with how much affection you would give him. Instead, you opt for squeezing his hand. “I would love to.”

He beams, shuffling to his feet and tugging your hand to get you to do the same, before leading you out of the backroom. Back in the lounge, the studio has calmed to a cozy rest, looking more like a lived-in home than a workplace. The stylist and makeup teams are working diligently in the meeting room, using the table to prop up their tablets and sketchbooks while they work. Jongho, Mingi, and Yeosang have settled down with lunch and are chattering quietly amongst themselves, while Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung are stretched out in the lounge.

Hongjoong sits alone on a plush chair with headphones in, zoned in on his laptop to work. Seonghwa has cuddled up with Yunho on a beanbag, and Wooyoung sprawls out horizontally on the couch. It seems that Yunho and Wooyoung are still playing games together, but Seonghwa is now passed out against Yunho, phone still clutched in hand. Your chest warms at the settled atmosphere, and you let San pull you to the couch. He stops, standing with his hands on his hips and looking down at Wooyoung.

“Oh no,” you groan in mock exasperation. “He’s claimed the couch.”

“Only half of it!” Wooyoung protests, barely lifting his head. “I’m just keeping it warm for you. I’m doing you a favor.” You raise an eyebrow. “You’re even lying on my tablet. Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

He turns his head, seeming to only just now notice it halfway under his shoulder. He offers a shameless grin. “I’m just protecting it. Thieves could be anywhere. Have you seen Jongho-yah when he’s hungry yet?”

San snorts beside you, and Yunho grumbles something about losing because Wooyoung wasn’t paying attention.

“Alright, scooch,” San says, nudging Wooyoung with his knee. He groans dramatically, but obliges, sitting upright and giving just enough space for the two of you to sit beside him. San sits at the edge, slipping his shoes off and swinging his legs up onto the couch, bending his knees so he's lying against the side of the couch and just barely touching Wooyoung with his feet. He pats his stomach invitingly, confident despite the blushed coloring of his ears.

You smile, finding your own cheeks warming at the unexpectedly intimate offer, before enthusiastically climbing to settle between his legs. You sit, leaning against him with your back to his front, letting your head fall back snugly against his chest. He’s strong and well-built, so it makes for good cushioning. You slightly nudge Wooyoung's thigh with your foot.

“Can I borrow your lap?”

Wooyoung looks confused for a moment, but then he beams, immediately patting the backs of your calves and letting you drape your legs over his thighs. Effectively laying on two different members, you’re just about ready to pass out from warmth and content.

“Hey,” Yunho says suddenly, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “Were you two… hiding in the backroom?” He waggles his eyebrows, and Wooyoung chokes on a cackle.

“Yah, we were just talking!” San argues, clearly flustered.

You laugh, amused by their arguing. Yunho’s head tilts back in a silent cackle at San’s expression, but he lets him be, resting his chin on the crown of Seonghwa’s head and closing his eyes for a rest.

You’re the coziest you’ve ever been. You almost feel bad for everyone else, knowing there’s no way they could be half as content as you are at the moment. San interrupts your thoughts with the gentle rumble of his voice in his chest, hovering his hands near your sides. “Y/N-ah, can I put my hands here?” he asks gently, and your heart stutters at his consideration.

You gently tug his wrists down, and his arms wrap securely around your waist, wrapping you up in a warm embrace. And you thought you couldn't get any more comfortable. Oh how wrong you were.

You sigh happily, turning your head to adjust your position. You catch a glimpse of the meeting room, and you remember with remorse that you are, in fact, still at work. And you have sketches to do.

“Sannie-ah?” you call out softly, quiet so as not to disturb the napping members around you.

“Hm?”

“Will you wake me up in… fifteen minutes or so?” You request, suddenly feeling a bit bad for being this at ease while your coworkers work so hard.

San seems to understand. “Yea, I won’t let you sleep too long. Don’t worry about it.”

That settles you enough, and you close your eyes with a grateful hum. Wooyoung rubs small circles into your ankles with his thumbs, drifting off himself now that he doesn’t have anyone to play with. San’s own hands absentmindedly pat your tummy, his breathing slow. Their repetitive motions, combined warmth, and the concern of oversleeping taken off of you are more than enough to have you drifting off, deeper and deeper into the dark embrace of sleep.

—Extra:

Hongjoong sits up straight with a stretch, deciding he’s made enough progress to earn a break. He stands from the plush chair, wincing at the stiffness in his legs and shutting his laptop with a small pop. He checks the time. He couldn’t have been working for more than an hour, but the stress was enough to make his muscles tense. He rolls his shoulders, turning toward the backroom to fetch a coffee, but he freezes. There, on the couch, are two of his members… and the new makeup artist they’ve slowly been befriending.

She’s wrapped up snugly, San’s arms and wide shoulders nearly swallowing her up from view. Wooyoung has propped a pillow up behind his neck, sitting up straight with her legs in his lap, a blanket draped delicately over the both of them. Hongjoong’s lips part in surprise, the tense pinching of his eyebrows lessening at the sight.

“Aren’t they precious?”

Hongjoong jumps slightly, eyes flicking up to a smiley Kim Ara.

“I told her she could sleep for ten more minutes, but it’s been well over 45 minutes now,” she chides softly, though with no real disdain. “I couldn’t bring myself to wake them, though.”

Hongjoong huffs out a small laugh, eyes pulled down to them again. “They look comfortable.”

She hums, grinning fondly. “She was a good hire. I hope you treat her well,” she says offhandedly, dipping back into the meeting room.

Hongjoong watches her go with slight confusion, not entirely sure what she meant but shrugging it off as his Noona’s strange attempt at workplace etiquette. He turns his attention right back to the three of you, eyes skimming over the calm in each of your expressions.

And sure, maybe he takes the chance to snap a quick photo of the three of you, just for good measure.

His smile lingers, probably longer than it should. Eventually he shakes his head and starts his search for coffee, finding himself glancing back just once more before the door swings shut behind him.

UYT Taglist: @obsessed-withthe-stressed @psychosupernatural @ateezswonderland @herpoetryprincess @nkryuki @thuyting @rosegracewood09 @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @queenofdumbfuckery @bbokarismeow @vtyb23 @soso59love-blog @mira-inlove @lover-ofallthingspretty @thegingerthatwaited @juicyjaxxy @ateez-atiny380 @ldysmfrst @chatsgotmytongue @satsuri3su @persassyismysecrettwin @cloudserenity @bellaptv @beljakovina

This Fic belongs to @frflyavenue and nobody else—please do not steal this work or any other works by this author <3

Chapter 6: In progress ;)

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 15

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 14

next 16

(q/a for any confused readers!!)

you settled in the back, an old sleeping bag laid out among pots of plants. as you laid back, closing your eyes, you tried to relax. tried to let go of your stress for the night. you'll fix it tomorrow. you'll talk it out. but you merely tossed and turned. thoughts swirling and circling like vultures, waiting for you to break.

the plants around you seemed to breath and you couldn't tell if you were just more in tune with them because of your evol or if love and deepspace just had weird ass plants. you let out a yell when something wrapped around your wrist, looking down to see a vine. you clawed at it's vice grip for a brief second before it happened again. your world faded to dark. as your consciousness faded, vines crept in more and more.

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

"come on, oh powerful witch! don't tell me you're scared of a little water?"

you huffed from you place on the river shore, watching mia splash around the shallows. she seemed unbothered by the chill, happily swimming and splashing about like a little duck. you don't blame her really, she hadn't gotten the chance to be a child really...

she'd been staying in your cottage for a week now, helping here and there, getting in the way sometimes, but she tried. you could appreciate that. it was nice having someone to talk to. or more like listen to while you worked. she was rather talkative, but it did give you an opportunity to learn more about her. there was a remarkable pull she had, one you found yourself falling into at times. you caught yourself hanging on her words, sending her on a little quest if you had work to do. perhaps it has something to do with her fate...?

mia, human, possesses a special heart. you noticed the tip of the ice berg when you met her, the strings of fate practically strangling her form. looking more closely, she was tied to six others, specifically, both in the past and the future. she was... unique in the sense that you could even see her past ties. most people had their current lives at most, never past or future. beyond that, she had six souls destined to meet her again and again. and while mia's situation might be enviable to some, you knew better.

mia remembered her past lives. this mia. her other lives had no recollection, but this one did. and the pain it was causing her was immense. from childhood, visions of death and destruction struck her, filling her head with darkness. for her lovers, the visions would give her just enough to fall for them only to rip them away in the most painful way. she had explained how they came to her randomly, freezing her in place while she lived through each moment. her parents had tried everything to cure her when these reactions consisted of sobbing violently rather suddenly. you had yet to see one of these episodes first hand, but a large part of you believed her. someone so young doesn't look that tired. you had met many a traveler searching for an easy way out or something they didn't need. maybe that made you too skeptical of others but you held off on any potions, giving her simple tonics to help her sleep for now.

"forgive me if i find no purpose in it. i am perfectly content up here, where it's dry."

she huffed, splashing onto the shore, hands on her hips as she glared down at you.

"don't be such a sourpuss! come on, it's fun!"

you squinted up at her, tugging your legs away from where she was dripping.

"you should be glad i'm out here at all. i have things to do if you are going to shout at me."

"i'm not shouting! just... speaking enthusiastically..."

that pulled a slight laugh out of you, her wet form flopping down next to you on the grass. when she started to shiver, you wordlessly put the blanket you had been resting on over her shoulders.

"... thank you."

"it's nothing. i would rather not waste herbs on you catching a cold."

she huffed out a laugh, wiping a wet hand on your shoulder. you let out a groan, scrunching your nose at the action. the two of you let a beat of silence past before she spoke up again.

"you mentioned my strings of fate or whatever. what are those?"

you huffed softly, gazing off at the sky.

"they bind us to those we are meant to meet. it not always romantic, but it often times is read that way. i can only see others strings by never knowing my own fated in this life."

"wait, so you can't see your string."

you shook your head, turning your gaze to her. the strings were calm today, colorful and fading into different directions.

"it's a fair price. i can't cheat my fate this way."

she let your words settle, picking at a loose thread in the blanket.

"... what do you think about my fate?"

"i think what you feel is most important. my opinion isn't an factor. i do warn you that juggling any about of people is difficult."

she let out a humorless laugh, nodding her head.

"right... i don't know though. they've never been alive at the same time before. i should be fine..."

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

maybe it was your talk, but something during the day triggered an episode that night. you woke up to sobs, full body cries coming from mia. rushing to the room she was staying in, you found her sobbing in her sleep, shaking and curled up into a ball. you didn't hesitate to slip into the bed next to her, gently shaking her shoulders.

"mia. mia. come back mia, it's okay..."

her eyes shot open, taking a gasping breath before falling apart again. she latched onto you and you just held her. she laid half in your lap, arms locked around your waist. you hummed a soft lullaby, rocking back and forth as she kept crying. it took a long time for her to calm down, soft hiccups still leaving her lips as the tears stopped.

"... can you make this stop? i-... i can't take it anymore."

"i can. but magic always has a consequence... i do my best to keep it to minimum, though. try and get some sleep."

you ran your fingers through her hair, going right back to softly humming. she didn't argue, only tightening her arms around your waist. she eventually slipped into the abyss of sleep, her cheeks puffy and red from crying.

"... it'll be okay, mia. i know how to help you..."

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taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo @mephisto-with-a-knife @poptrim @rhoswen-drake @szafficat @1ren3n @peachystea

anotha one!!

we diving into the memory card now. this will explain your place into this world. where you fall in the dominos...

also, here is the fit i imagined for you. again, i've been keeping it gender neutral, so i did try to keep it that way. (you can imagine you're wearing whatever, this is just for fun.) annnnnd i hate hands so don't look at those.

thank you for reading

-chara <3

[fluffydeoxys]

oh, one thing i can more easily relay right now: I made changes to this.

A slightly more detailed delving into each section (excluding the last image cus that has remained unchanged, although with the new addition that Hank only has its right eye, while Zero has their left eye) is under the cut. I've written a lot, feel free to ask something about it if you like

looking up at you meekly. uh. i wrote a lot so. if you were perhaps interested I would love if you read even a little. your time and interest is always appreciated!

TRICKY AND ZERO

As we know, Hofnarr was a big fan of Slaughter Time, and canonically speaking, the Arena Player has also directly participated in at least a single episode of it (though the level implies more than one at least). Simple right? Hofnarr would've seen Zero on TV, nothing more. But here's the thing with Zero... she's an anomaly, a paradox, something not terribly congruous with reality. Not even factoring in her abnormal, deleterious existence, there are twelve possible Zero (the Origins/Imprints, if you're curious) at any given moment during that Loop, so how could anything stable or normal hope to represent that entropy, that unknown possibility?

There's an episode of Slaughter Time that never aired. Maybe doesn't even exist. It's an online rumour at this point. A tape where, if you tried playing it, nothing comes out. Your screen turns black, or if you're lucky, you'll get some nonsense binary spat back out. But 'cus Hofnarr's such a big fan of Slaughter Time, he's gotta get his hands on this one. Eventually he did, but unfortunately... it didn't play anything.

Much later, when the dissonance tore Hofnarr apart and remade him into Tricky, he still had that tape, and sometimes clown likes to watch them. But this time, that mystery tape? It played something for him. Not much, heavily warped and unstable, stuttering and droning, changing with every pause, play and rewind, but he could see it. Something fighting like he'd never seen it before, a black shape that, while censored, he knew what it was: a grunt.

To this day, only Tricky has ever seen the contents of that Slaughter Time tape - the only recording of Zero from the loop. There was no name included in the tape, so Tricky calls her Death-bringer because of how efficiently she fought and, well, slaughtered. While he had no idea what weapon she was using, it looked most like a scythe. The Reaper.

When it comes to Zero though, she doesn't know who Tricky is, understandably. But what she DOES know, what she can see, is how strange his S3LF is. It's like I said before, his S3LF has been ripped apart and remade, using dissonance as the stitches. There are echoes of memories tied to a new face, a S3LF entangled with something peculiar, an entropic jitter that defies expectation. He is like if you took the memory of a person and reforged it anew. A fascinating anomaly for Zero, that's for sure, especially with how Tricky also does not... conform to reality, but he does so very... differently. His power is a lot more unstable and erratic. Dangerous. Thankfully, Tricky seems to have some idea that his own entropy would not play nicely with hers, should her power come to bear.

JEB AND ZERO

So what if I told you I think about these two a lot? They're weird, in a way that's very different to Hank and Doc. It's pretty messy and I'm kinda bad at making shit messy, so this is pretty fun to me. Grunt who hates so bad it makes him look like he wants her. Okay buddy.

So it used to be that Jeb hated her so bad that he wanted her dead, which he still does, but to the point he challenges her to a duel and he loses, resulting in that stomach scar (completing the nice little Jeb->Hank->Zero trifecta). He still has that, but the original context of it has changed completely 'cus I didn't like this at all.

With the help of some friend involvement, it has since changed to a flexible series of events: Jeb's first meeting with Zero was alongside Doc, which already set things off on a bad foot. Doc already pisses him off, but another lackey? Like Hank? Wonderful, what a fantastic day for him. Yeah the mysterious silent enormous grunt towering behind you won't piss me the fuck off. I already got one on my plate right now.

Jeb already expresses extreme contempt towards the Employers, distinctly about how they 'don't belong here' (quoting the post-credits scene in MPN: CHRISTOFF: You are not welcome in Nevada. State your business and go.). So when Jeb finds out about her more anomalous properties (the particulars I haven't decided on, but I'm sure he'd spot her fighting once or twice and.. learn some things)... It's another tally on the "why I don't like Zero" board. Then again when he sees her with Hank, it worsens. It FINALLY cements when Jeb ends up having a conversation with Zero.

Why?

Because Zero is quite polite. She's nice. Nice. Is this a joke? This formality? This kindness? (Mind you, it's just her not oozing insults like everyone else and merely tipping her hat after their short tête-à-tête was done) From a thing like you, knowing who you work with, how you end up covered in blood and viscera, holding yourself with this otherworldly aura? Fuck you. You think you're above me. I see you for what you really are. Even the fact she's ALSO taller than him pisses him off.

But it reaches its true boiling point when Jeb gets himself killed, as he does (possibly one of his in-canon deaths), and Doc is responsible for bringing him back. Like he often is.

And who does he have help when doing that? Yes, that's right, it's Zero. Zero helps 2BD retrieve targets from the Other Place, especially high-value ones, or ones that have been lost to the dangerous, less stable depths. Jeb factors into both, so Zero has to chase him down. And for Zero to successfully reclaim a person, she must "kill" them (which looks and feels like literal death), but it's so Zero may 'absorb' their S3LF and connect with Doc's tools to reinstate their S3LF with the body on Doc's end.

Thus: Zero chasing after a very angry and baffled Jeb throughout the Other Place. Zero most likely making a monotone comment about how difficult he's making it while Jeb barks back for her to maybe stop trying to kill him, you detestable lunatic!

All in all, a more reasonable situation for their "duel", and for why and how Jeb gets his stomach scar.

Putting that particular.. backstory? Aside, more generally speaking: Jeb has a lot of mixed feelings about Zero,

She is smart. She's a lot kinder than others, even if that kindness isn't overt, it's subtle, it's... quiet, I guess. She's not doing anything to or for him that she wouldn't otherwise; mostly she's just listening. He loves to talk. But I don't think many listen.

But he thinks it's some weird mind game or something. Because killing his problems is what he's used to, he thinks the problem is her, and the solution is that he needs to run her through with his blade. Hence the lovely little comment he has about her on the chart. I don't deserve this, I don't need it, I want you (gone). This is ludicrous. Why do you listen to me? Have you not seen my destruction, a necessary evil, but one that haunts me nonetheless? Where is your contempt?

... I feel small. I hate it.

Zero also has a lot of mixed feelings for Jeb, though in her own way that she can't quite articulate. It's a mix of detached pity, an acknowledgement of what happened, yet not quite comprehending the totality of emotion, for better or for worse. A strange hum of fondness, because in a way, he's quite.. funny. It's like finding humour in a surly, prickly cat who craves affection, but only in very specific ways. Oh yes, you hate me, and yet you're here again? She thinks, but it's never heard. And the lamentation that he truly is doomed. I'm sorry.

When Jeb gets killed in MC8 and is abandoned out in Somewhere, Zero later comes to his body. To send him off, so to speak. When he was gone, she just knew.

This was discussed with my friend devicecontact, but there's a particular scene I like a lot. Of Zero walking to his corpse while vultures circle overhead, forming a dark halo above, framing the red sun. As Zero kneels down to him and takes a scrap of his coat, her hand briefly flashes with red light. The absorption, or at least.. its implied, that maybe, a piece of his dying essence now lives within her.

The vultures spiral away, and Jeb is truly, finally gone. When Zero walks off, without a word uttered save the pause before she departs, she casts a long, lonely shadow across the wasteland.

To convey how strange their relationship is, I made Zero's text+arrow to Jeb a little odd. Zero makes a light joke, which she normally doesn't do, and states something objectively wrong (Jeb is not at all Doc's friend). So she remains obtuse about what she truly feels about Jeb. There's no way she could concisely convey a singular feeling or idea about him anyway. There's just too much, and the same could be said for Jeb to Zero, and he merely oversimplifies it as a notion to kill.

Oh. Zero's seen an old memory of his. Accident with the halo. Jeb doesn't like to talk about it. Because he's dead haha ! okay obviously more to it than that smiles with gritted teeth

whys this one the longest good lord. no I don't think about zerojeb. hey .hey

VICTOR AND ZERO

One of my favourite topics: the narrative. Or the deliberate lack thereof in this case! The narrative that cannot be, the story that cannot be told, the events that cannot be seen. Both as individuals and together.

Victor's story cannot and will not be told; the lens will always be turned away from it, and they will always remain unknown, unseen. All that will be seen is a name and a facade. Why? We truly may never know, for the Maker is nothing if not persistent in ensuring things go PRECISELY the way it needs to. Maybe Victor knows something, as he's aware of the fact that he cannot be known, and is perpetually followed by things on the border of reality.

Zero instead cannot be known. Ink stains spill on pages, gaps bleed out on memories, and corruptions erase all data. All that will be known are approximations, stories, tales, indirect points that can form a great web. The shape of her can be traced by those who know what to look for, but the picture will never be clear. It will slip. It will fade.

And if the two met? You'd never know. You can't know.

SOME THINGS CANNOT HAPPEN.

Why? Would it break reality as we know it? Would some vehicle of storytelling break altogether, inviting a new form of entropy? A devastation that would crack the shell, and the three planes would intersect, obliterating Nevada like nothing was ever there?

Or does the Maker want to prevent something from happening? Is it the Machine's intervention? The Auditor's commentary? Who is saying that text? What does that eye mean?

That vagueness, the censorship, it's REALLY fun to me. It's one of my favourite concepts for Zero, and naturally it also extends to Victor, but it's in a different.. medium. But there are very substantial consequences and ideas within the notion of a Narrative. Regardless, the ambiguity between them is far more compelling than knowing for sure whether or not they've met. Maybe they have... and what would that mean, and what would that look like? It's up to you, really. But one thing fis or certain:

The Maker does not want it to happen, no matter what.

GONNE AND ZERO

Right so. Little bit of a preface ramble for some context. In my headcanon, there are three planes of 'tangible' existence. Reality, obviously, where things happen, the "occurrant". Entropy, which can be considered the Other Place and any extensions of that, and the infinite possibility. And then Something Else, akin to the Nowhere, including it and yet not, the infinite stretch of behind the veil, around the sphere. There's something even beyond that, further than anything anyone can truly see or know, and that's where Fate and Else reside, but that's beside the point.

What the point is: there are gaps between these. When you are severed from the weave, no longer within the manifold of the Machine's reach, the narrative that enfolds the world, you sort of end up between... reality and entropy, sometimes slipping into Something Else with no real rhyme or reason. For the sake of stability, or perhaps the universe rejecting you, or the Machine just really doesn't want your ass gallivanting around.

Pointing being ... again, Gonne is still "out there." Existing, just.. not in a way almost anyone can reach, see, or even know about. Ostensibly, they're gone (heh).

But Zero? She can. She has.

In the back of her mind, somewhere far off, something taps at the wall. Something sky-blue, a colour quite rare, glimmers in a minuscule crack on an invisible wall. Zero notices.

Zero managed to put a "name" to a "face" when she 'bumps into' the S3LF-eater story. Zero always seems to show up when "interesting" things happen, which is the case here, and it was spurred by Zero noticing Hank had died (a cosmic gut feeling, more or less). She arrives after San and Dei have already hauled its body back.

Instead, she encounters Jeb and Sheriff, and they do the whole running-around of sorting out the S3LF-eater stuff. That's where Zero properly learns about Gonne, putting together those scraps of documents, of leftover logs. Now she knows who that 'voice' is.

What they've spoken about is unclear, because the means of conversation aren't expected or translatable, hence the abstractions and binary their text has to take. A new script, one that can cross the boundary of reality and entropy, but it doesn't convey ideas that can be clearly read or understood. But there are some recognisable shapes. And Zero is one of them. This shouldn't be possible.

There's a place beyond heaven and I saw it. Something might happen soon.

It's just a matter of time.

CRACKPOT AND ZERO

You know I used to not really think anything about Crackpot haha! That sure has changed! i haven't even seen them in game yet pleasehelpme

Crackpot is corroded with madness enough to know more than he should in vague, broken pieces about Zero. He also does other things in general, but specifically we're talking about Zero here, so. To others, it sounds like delusional ramblings - but like Zero says, Madness is just knowing Something Else. There is truth in what he says, and because there is truth, the words themselves unravel into shapes, approximations of ideas. For their truth has made even the words themselves "mad." To try and retain stability, to make sure things that cannot be known remain unknown, they unfurl and blur, blotch and blacken, until there is nothing discernible left.

But Crackpot speaks in such strange riddles that the shapes of what they have said DO mean something. Primarily, the 0s going up allude to how Zero is "something above", perhaps higher than the Maker, than this world itself. Not in power, but mere existence, her role, the end. There's also a rough shape of Zero in there, plus some imagery of her wings, a figure 8 loop, something piercing the veil of reality, and the two bound shapes of Hank and Zero.

Crackpot knows fleeting shrapnels, glimpses of Zero in a way that Doc has been striving towards for decades, albeit a little more coherently. Shame he's dead now! Could've learned a lot.

PHOBOS AND ZERO

Okay I might not explain this one so much cus I wanna make it its own art/post one day but essentially, Phobos has a rubix cube. Its a figurative representation of what he has, what he failed to achieve, what he was searching for and how he failed to grasp the larger picture. The cube was never solved, but Zero thinks maybe one day, it might. Zero often visited Phobos in the Other Place, until she stopped. Phobos sort of misses it, especially because he's not got much longer now.

AUDITOR AND ZERO

Fairly self-explanatory I think. Or maybe I'm tired which is also true lol. Anyway, Zero is a real pain for the Auditor because of the way she interacts with reality, is difficult to plan around/for, and just the simple fact she's just as good a killer/an unstoppable (but killable) force as Hank. She's not as prone to spontaneous events of mass murder, but she fundamentally opposes Auditor's role - a custodian of the Machine, even if they don't understand it fully. Very annoying when you already have an active nightmare to deal with on top of not knowing how your boss well, operates. The fact they can't even put up wanted posters of her is absurdly frustrating, and every time they've tried to approximate its stupid things like "the Hat Man", which no Agent takes seriously and is just plain confused by.

Auditor just kind of has to begrudgingly deal with it. Maybe coercion or something would work. (It wouldn't.)

SHERIFF AND ZERO

With Sheriff, Zero is fascinated by the idea that there can be TRUE kindness despite the circumstances, despite the structure and code and tendencies of this world. What I wrote on Zero's summary image puts it well: Sheriff represents resilience, kindness and a human element that can prevail despite the way Nevada is. Zero respects him, and while not a lot of things affect her emotionally, this is one of the things that makes Zero "happy." Basically surprised to see something human overcome the odds in such an inhuman environment. I feel like there's more detail I could go into but I need it to cook a bit more and I might need specific examples or trains of thought to flesh it out. Not sure. One thing is that Zero saved Sheriff's life during a fight around the S3LF Eater debacle. Most of my Sheriff thoughts are contained within my+a friends OCxcanon with him, anyhoo. Zero is more just... pleasantly surprised he exists, that he can exist.

I'll explain Sanford and Zero more when I get a better grasp on them and will probably go into detail about SQ as a whole with her. Welcome to still ask about them though, the changed version is a lot better than the previous lines.

some up-to-date lore bits and relationship charts with Zero!

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[obligatory-name-change]

i like the concept of a huskerdust overlord!husk au but like. it is very much just being sold to one direction

[iamasaddie]

lessons in control

Joel Miller x f!Reader

summary: after you witnessed the conflict at the dance, you tried to comfort Joel as best as you could, too bad you weren't really good with words. warnings: PWP, just the tip, mentions of a belly bulge, mentions of cockwarming, creampie, emotionally awkward reader, sex as a distraction, fat girthy age gap (reader late 20s-early 30s, Joel 61. don't like don't read i am planning to write some more stuff about them <3) wc: 1,7k a/n: episode came out weeks ago and i just finished the fix-it fic. i love being on time. divider by @/saradika-graphics

You were already warming up your shared bed when Joel's heavy body plopped next to yours. The matress squeaked pathetically, or maybe those were Joel's knees. He silently scooted closer to you, hugging your body from behind and inhaling your scent.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you reached and blindly found his cheek, scratching the stubble with your thumb in a gentle gesture.

“I can’t seem to control myself when I feel something might happen to her, you now?" You did know. Joel's hyperprotectiveness over Ellie was the thing that brought you together in the first place. And that was the only time when it didn't cause mass distruction. Almost. "I just get filled with rage and I lose it.” Joel sounded like a beaten dog, you knew exactly how much pain his eyes carried. You wished you could say something that’d take his mind off things. You wished you had a better way with words. But the only thing you felt you could offer was your body, so you press your back harder into his t-shirt clad chest; you pushed your ass a bit out to meet his cock that was still soft in his boxers.

“I can help you with the control thing.” You whispered, your breathing soft and calm.

“Yeah?” There was a tint of humor in his voice, a half-smile creeping up on his face. “Gonna walk me on a leash?”

“No,” you grabbed his hand and brought it up from your belly to your tits. Joel barely squeezed the supple flesh, waking up the sleeping beast that was your need. “Let’s start with something less dramatic.”

“You know full well I’m not able to control myself with you either.” As if proving his words, his hips bucked, teasing your ass with his hardening dick. His voice dropped lower, the honey thick cadence you grew to know very well. Joel’s grown out stubble brushed your ear as he moved his lips closer. “If I can have you, I devour you fully.”

You breath caught in your throat. Whatever this turns out to be, you knew you at least gave him shelter from the dark thoughts for the night. “You can have me, but,” your ass kept grinding on him, bringing Joel’s cock to the full potential, “just the tip.”

He barked a soft laugh, fanning your face with his whiskey breath. “Sounds like you’ll be the one struggling, baby,” his thumb and pointer finger pinched your nipple, already taut with excitement, and you bit your cheek to hide the moan. “Since it’s you who always begs me harder, more, deeper.”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as Joel started nipping at your neck, dragging his teeth along the tender column. His hands enveloped you in a hot cage, forearms squeezing your boobs as he pressed you even tighter to his chest. You couldn’t move—not that you wanted to—but you didn’t think it’d be great for that exercise in control you wanted to give Joel. He bit in the juncture between your neck and shoulder and you gasped. You were so responsive, it drove Joel mad. His hips kept humping your soft ass, and you knew a wet stain already bloomed on the front of his simple underwear. 

“Come on, Joel, let me help you.” You moan was breathy, and you tried to gather some composure to no avail. Feeling his hard length fit between your asscheeks made your core burn. You desperately wanted to have him stretch your pussy around the veiny shaft, even though that wasn’t what you planned in the beginning. You guessed that both of you could learn something.

His hand let go of your tits, dragging down your body to tug your panties down. You fumbled for a moment, helping him get rid of the damp garment. His own he only shoved down enough to let his hard cock out, the elastic of the band sitting tightly under the heavy ballsack. 

Your wet pussy was sheilded from the cold of the room by the blanket that covered you both, and when Joel’s tip finally kissed the slick lips of your cunt, sweat started gathering on the back of your neck. 

One of Joel’s palms rested on your thigh, his almost fully grey happy trail that lead to the coarse pubic hairs tickled your ass and back. His finger dug into the meat of your leg, dragging it up and over his own hairy thigh, so he had a better access to your weeping pussy.

Joel’s teeth grazed your ear, low voice rumbling through you.

“Sure you don’t want me here?” His hand left your leg, and he pressed into your lower belly, making you shiver. “Don’t you love feeling me in your tummy, baby? See how my cock bulges your little belly?”

You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut. You did love that. Loved seeing how big he was, in every aspect, and how well you could still take him. Seeing how much of his cock was in you when he told you to suck your tummy in. 

“N-no,” your whimper lacked any confidence, and Joel only chuckled darkly. “Just the tip.”

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

He moved, grabbing the shaft of his cock that was throbbing with the absence of needed contact. With tortuously slow movements, he teased your slit, making sure to nudge your clit every time. The fat head of his cock spread your lips, mixing your arousal and his precum into one cocktail of need and despair. You felt his spongy tip knock on your hole and it took everything you had in yourself not to push down, taking as much of him as you could in one go.

You shook with desire against his body, and Joel finally allowed you to have some of him. Gently, almost mockingly, he pushed the leaking head of his cock in your tight heat. Even this small fraction of his dick felt overwhelming without proper preparation. When your walls hugged his tip, both of you exhaled sharply.

“Fuck, Joel, good, that’s good.”

“Yeah? Already full?” 

“Mhm.”

“I need you to play with your clit, baby. Want you to squeeze that tight little pussy around me as I fuck you with just the tip.”

Shaking, your right hand found your pulsating clit, but before touching it, you pushed your fingers lower, blindly feeling where the tip of his cock split you apart. You grazed his shaft with the tips of your fingers and immediately heard Joel suck air through his clenched teeth.

“If you don’t want me to turn you over and fuck you into this mattress with my whole dick, better keep your fingers on your clit, baby.”

You’d giggle if only he didn’t choose that exact moment to slip out and immediately punch into you again, this time a bit further, but you kept your mouth shut.

Your fingers expertly danced over your throbbing bud, gathering slick that generously seeped out of you. Joel was uncharacteristically quiet, all of his concentration focused on not thrusting his hips and burying himself to the hilt in your welcoming pussy. Sweat dripped down his temple, thighs screaming, but he kept feeding you just the tip, enjoying your breathy mewls. 

Having so little of him when you knew what the whole deal felt like resembled a punishment that you brought upon yourself. He stretched you good, but he couldn’t reach that magic spot he usually pondered into whenever he sunk his cock inside you. That made you work on your clit harder, already desperate to cum when it’s barely been ten minutes. 

“I can hear how wet you are for me,” Joel nipped at your neck, his tip continuously thrusting in and out of you, teasing. “D'you hear that?”

The sounds were loud, vulgar. You’ve heard the wetness of your cunt welcoming Joel with an obscene smack, like when you pat the surface of still water with your opened palm. The waves of your upcoming orgasm rippled from your core and out, like those same disturbed waters.

“Grippin' me tight, darlin’,” he groaned, you could smell his sweat and it made your mouth salivate. “Grippin' so good I can barely pull out.”

Your hand started faltering, rythm failing and Joel, sensing your trouble, left the tip of his cock inside you while his own hand started working on your clit. The simple touch of his fingertips, rough and gentle at the same time, pushed you tripping over the edge. You kept choking on air, inhaling more and more until your lungs burned and your mouth opened wide in a silent scream. 

Joel felt your little bud throbbing under his fingertips, your pussy squeezing his cock so hard he could barely hold off his own orgasm. He found your hand, bringing your slippery fingers back to your spent pussy.

“Keep touching your clit.”

“I can’t,” you whined back, voice barely audible, “it’s too sensitive, Joel.”

“Keep playing with it or I will,” the thought of his big rough fingertip on your sensitive bud again sent a chill down your spine, though it was far from fear that you felt. “I want your pussy choking and crying around me when I fill you up.”

You tried to steady your breathing, your trembling fingers started to work gentle circles on your pussy again. It felt raw, and every extra touch felt like a shock wave shooting through you. But it did what Joel wanted, every swipe made your pussy clench around him with extra strength and he just kept his tip inside you, stroking his shaft that was covered in your cum with his thumb and two fingers.

“Doing good, baby, keep going.”

“It’s too much.” You whined, almost breaking apart from him, but his hand kept you in place.

“It’s not, you can do it for me, can’t you?”

You could do anything for Joel, he was right there. So your fingers kept torturing your poor pussy, bringing as much pain as pleasure, and you kept squeezing around Joel’s cock, bringing him to his own release.

In one long unexpected thrust, he pushed the rest of his cock in you, growling as he spilled rope after rope of his cum inside you. The sudden movement ripped another orgasm out of you and you wailed, tears of pleasure tickling the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, baby,” he sounded everything but sorry, “had to make sure I don’t spill a drop.”

“Does it mean you’ll leave it in for the night?” There was hope in your voice, and you didn’t try to hide it. Whenever Joel kept himself snug in your pussy for the night, you had the best dreams, and the horniest mornings.

He hugged you close to his chest, making sure his softening cock was still plugging you. “I don’t think I got that much control, sweetheart.”

[fortunapre]

PAIRING: hamzah x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and hamzah have been close friends forever, but during one of your routine movie nights, things get heated and confessions are made…

WARNINGS: 18+, no piv, dry-humping, making out, cussing, female reader, mentions y/n

2.2k words

“First of all, what game are you playing?” You asked, grabbing both bowls of ice cream that you prepared and heading to the couch where you and Hamzah were watching Star Wars.

“Uh, does it matter? This is a once in a lifetime chance I'm giving you to be in my video!” Hamzah teased, making a face like he thought you were insane.

You playfully hit his shoulder and laughed. “Well considering some of your videos are… questionable to say the least, I’m gonna need more context.”

Hamzah just spooned ice cream in his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. While you laughed and looked back towards the TV, he kept his eyes on you, admiring. Tonight was one of your guys’ monthly ice cream nights that you started since you met about 6 years ago. Ever since you were teenagers, you both have been side-by-side. The best of friends.

Hamzah took notice of your pajama shorts, large t-shirt, and messy hair. He had no idea how your most disheveled look still made him stare.

You felt his gaze and looked at him, but before you caught him, Hamzah looked back at the tv.

Now it was your turn to admire. Hamzah had always looked effortlessly hot in your eyes, but movie nights especially. Something about his careless look made your heartbeat a little faster. Like this view of him, in pajamas, with strands of dark, curly hair flying everywhere, was only made for you. Especially when he wore his glasses.

This secret staring match lasted the whole movie.

Usually, when movie night ended and the icecream was finished, Hamzah would talk a bit and then head home. It always killed him to leave you.

However, this time, Hamzah planned on telling you something he’d been hiding from since he met you. He wouldn’t back out of it this time

To stall, and make the night continue, he started with a simple converstation. “Wait, so do you want to be in the video or not, ‘cause I completely understand if it’s too much. I know me and Martin can get, like, kinda weird but it's what the viewers like so…”

Hamzah was rambling and you knew that if you didn’t stop him now he’d go on forever. You leaned over, and quickly put your hand over his mouth, shutting him up. You were both already situated with your legs basically pressed together, so reaching him was no problem.

“You’re rambling, Hamzah.” you laughed and kept your hand over his mouth. “And yeah I guess I’ll be in a video.” You tried to seem bossy by pointing a finger into his chest “But it we better be playing Sims or Episode.”

Then you realised just how many places you were touching him…

Teasing in your guys’ relationship was the norm, but recently, it has started to feel more like flirting than friendly teasing. There’s been a lot more… tension.

He stopped talking when you covered his mouth and smiled underneath your hand.

Recently, everything you do has felt more like flirting, now that you think about it.

At first it was innocent, a few touches and remarks, because it felt comfortable. Now, though, something hotter brimmed underneath everything.

Maybe you took it too far sometimes, with very obvious innuendos and such, but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to him. However, in the back of your mind, there was that voice reminding you that Hamzah is probably just being friendly and you were overthinking it.

You didn't want to take that chance, so you never brought up the obvious shift between you two.

You kept your hand on his mouth a bit longer than was probably normal, but the look that Hamzah was giving was almost magnetic. There was something in his eyes that was brand new, and raw. He lightly grabbed your wrist and moved to hold your hand instead, his eyes still locked on yours.

It was silent until he opened his mouth, deciding to speak up.

Now, Hamzah decided. Now he would tell you. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to-”

“You should really start wearing your glasses more.” You winced internally at the accidental compliment/confession that slipped out.

“What?” He had a physical reaction to your sudden outburst and started laughing. “What’re you talking about? My glasses? What, why?” He seemed super nervous , and you could tell by his familiar awkward smirk from when we he’s flustered. If only he knew what that slight upturn of his lips did to you.

His laugh, your proximity to each other, and his just overall look meant your insides were basically jelly. He was still holding your hand, and once you realized it, the rosy blush spreading up your neck was inevitable.

“Don’t tease, you obviously know why.” You answered, looking away to try and hide the blush.

“Yeah?” He asked, in the most sensual voice you’ve ever heard from him, while looking down at your intertwined hands.

You were extremely surprised by the sudden deepness of his voice but decided to hide your reaction. Instead, you rolled your eyes and sat up to take your bowls to the sink. You needed to get away before you let your impulsive thoughts get the best of you.

He let you walk away, contrary to what his mind was reeling with, slowly dropping your hand as you moved away.

He watched you as you walked, with his eyes on the way your shorts were slightly riding up, and how your legs were on full display.

You set the dishes in the sink and turned to head back but were surprised with Hamzah’s towering figure.He followed you into the kitchen and was standing right infront of you. He was situated with one hand on the back counter and the other on the island, blocking your way out.

Instead of arguing, you just put a hand on your hip, and looked at him. Nervousness consumed your mind as you fully realized just how close to you Hamzah was standing. Instead of moving away, however, you stayed close, catching his familiar, minty scent. You looked back into his eyes-His eyes that held the exact same searing gaze as earlier. He seemed to make nonverbal promises. Of what? You weren’t sure but how he was looking was almost dirty.

“Y/n, what I was saying earlier…” Hamzah began again but briefly stopped for a second and looked at you expectantly.

“What?” You asked confusedly why he stopped.

“Oh, just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to rudely interrupt me again.”

You scoffed and faked hurt, “rudely?! I complimented you!”

“Yeah, I guess.” His smirk was back and his eyes were on yours. If it was anyone else, eye contact would have made you look away. Except Hamzah isn’t just anyone, and his eyes were like pools you could drown in.

He moved an inch closer, testing the waters. When he saw a slight pink to your cheeks at his closeness, he gained sudden confidence.

“Don’t let me leave tonight.” He suddenly spoke.

You were taken aback with his words, “What, like lock the doors? Are you going to transform at midnight or something?”

He let out a breathy laugh, but his tone never shifted.

“You know what I mean, Y/n.” A deep breath. “Let me stay. Let me show you what I…”

“Hamzah. Of course you can stay over. I’d never push you-”

“No, y/n that’s not…”

A beat of silence passed until you softly spoke up.

“What, Hamzah?”

“Let me show you what I think about everytime I’m near you.”

His words were ringing in your ears and your entire body almost had a physical reaction to what he was insinuating.

“Let me show you what I’ve been imagining for the past 5 damn years, Y/n.”

You were stunned, because 5 years? That’s almost for as long as you’ve known him.

“5 years…” You tested the words out loud and it was like an award winning melody to your ears.

“Yeah, 5 years. Actually scratch that. 6 years.” He stood closer, and spoke quieter. “Since I saw you for the first time I’ve been holding back from you. From admitting how I feel because I was afraid I might lose you.”

Like a dam, you broke. Anything along those lines were exactly what you’ve been wishing for, and here those words were, out in the open.

Finally,

You grabbed the front of his hoodie with surprising strength and pulled him down to your level.

Before you could follow through and kiss him, you just held his lips near yours instead.

You both shared one breath, staring at each others' lips. You stayed like this, too afraid to ruin the moment if you went too fast. Just the whisper of Hamzah’s lips against yours filled you with an insane amount of need.

However, Hamzah took the invite of your pouty lips and closed the distance for you.

Unable to contain the years of built up desire, you kiss his back. Hard.

He almost stumbles forward as you pull his hoodie closer to you. He smirks into the kiss at your eagerness and you swear that simple action could make you drop to your knees if he wasn’t holding your waist.

His fingers were digging into the fabric of your t-shirt, basically molding into your waist. It’s like you skipped the slow-getting-hotter part of the kiss and immediately skipped to fully making out.

Hamzah licked the inside of your mouth, making you release a quiet mewl from the back of your throat.

He parted from your lips, barely. Just enough distance to catch your breath before he dove back in. It was almost feral, the way he moved from your lips to your cheek to your jaw. He grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you up. Your immediate reaction was to wrap your legs around him and hold him as close as possible.

Right now, being chest-to-chest, literally holding one another wasn’t close enough.

He slowly carried you back to the couch while making small licks and bites along your throat.

He placed you on the couch and immediately followed, covering your body with his.

“Y/n…” He spoke your name with a deep rumble, into your shoulder before kissing your pulse under your jaw.

You unlatched your lips to take off his glasses and setting them beside you. You would have loved for him to keep them on but you could tell how annoyed he was getting with them when he tried to kiss you.

He watched your movement carefully, and let a mental picture of how hot you looked under him.

When you came back to him, he immediately put his lips back to the spot on your neck that he figured out was the sweet spot where you made the most noise.

“Hamzah..” you answered, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up, signalling you want him to take it off.

“You sure?” He asked you, looking in your eyes for the first time since you started kissing. He took note of your red cheeks and matching swollen lips. He was so absolutely obsessed with you.

“Hamzah, If you couldn’t tell, I also have feelings for you and want you to go back to kissing me.” You teased him. “Without your shirt though” you smiled innocently and pulled his shirt up to reveal his chest.

“Such a smartass.” He smiled and pulled his shirt completely off and discarded it somewhere behind you. He was still smiling as he reconnected your lips, and the feel of his grin in your kiss made you smile as well.

The whole thing was unreal.

You felt so…happy in the moment, like nothing could compare. Like this is all you’d ever wanted and needed.

He slowly lifted the hem of your shirt as well, exposing your soft skin and thin bra. He could see the peaks of your nipples poking through the fabric and the image made him want to kiss every part of you he’s never seen.

To be truthful, any sight of you made him want to kiss you like that, but specifically right now, his pulse was very prominent in the lower part of his body from the current view.

You sunk your teeth lightly into his lower lip, and he replied by kissing you harder. He couldn’t hold back his desire at one point, when you started letting out breathy moans into his mouth- he jerked his hips against yours. You really felt just how much he needed you just then. The small pressure from his growing erection against you made you throw your head back and grind along lift your hips to meet his.

He started slowly grinding into you until you were full on dry-humping each other.

If Hamzah felt like this with clothes on, you only wondered what he felt like-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Hamzah grabbing your ass, then moving his hands along the back of your thighs. He lifted them up so you could wrap them around his back.

He rutted faster against you, and you swear you could feel his full length against you now. Your panties were soaked at this point and the wet spot growing on the front of his grey sweats showed that you had the same effect on him.

He sighed into your ear, both arms now propped on each side of your head. “Fuck, i’m gonna come in my pants from you, gorgeous.”

You let out a soft whine at the pet name and dragged your nails down his back, undoubtedly leaving scars. “Then just come like this, Hamzah. Show me what I mean to you. Like you prosmised.”

Erotic noises escaped your lips from the insane friction. You arched and dragged your hands back up his back and into his soft curls, tugging lightly.

“God, why haven’t we done this before” Hamzah sounded pained as he whispered, shutting his eyes tight from the upcoming sensation.

“I have no fucking idea. We were both too much of pussies to admit anything.” You replied in between short breaths.

He chuckled, but basically choked on his laugh when you reached into his pants to properly feel him.

“Yeah,” He agreed, and kissed you roughly, smashing his lips into yours and making your teeth clash at times.

“Fuck I’m..” You started to warn him, but he already knew.

“Me, too.”

He shifted the smallest bit but for some reason his new position made the friction ten times stronger. Hamzah’s hard bulge was hitting the perfect spot that made your panties rub against your clit in a way that made you gasp.

“Holy shit Hamzah” you gasped and arched your back to meet his chest. He laid more of his weight on yours, feeling your nipples through your bra.

“wait before we…” He looked you in your eyes and silently asked to take your bra off by slowly pulling down a strap from your shoulder.

“take it off of me, Hamzah.”

He wasted no time and took off your bra, exposing the peaks of your nipples. He immediately moved a hand to play with your breasts, giving each of them attention. “God, you're beautiful. even better than I imagined.”

His words made you want more so you arched you back again, making him shut his eyes tight at the friction.

“Fuck, baby,” he said softly.

He kept one hand next to your head, where he held himself up and moved the other from your breast to rub you through your shorts. “Hamzah please..please touch me”

He slipped a teasing finger past the waistband of your shorts. But you were done with foreplay and just needed him. His hand went past your underwear, finally reaching where you needed him.

He tested it by swiping two fingers along your folds.

“so wet f’me, yeah?”

“yeah…please Hamzah.”

“don’t worry baby.” At the same time he spoke he sunk two of his fingers into you, curling them at the perfect speed, while using his thumb to rub your clit.

how he was so good at this, you had no idea.

You wanted to please him as well, but when you looked at his tent, a wet spot was already extremely prominent.

“hey,” he turned your focus to him.

“Just let go baby. I'll come with you. seeing you like this….having you like this is already getting me off so bad.” his strokes became faster and your breathing got harder.

Before you could release, he took his fingers away and replaced them with rough grinding of his hips again.

Seconds later a feeling so strong washed over your body, draining you and your mind. Hamzah came right after you. The connected spot between you was soaking and warm with both of your come leaking through your pants.

“Jesus, Y/n if thats what its like with clothes on I can't wait until-”

“Yeah.” You laughed short with your eyes closed at the familiar words- he practically said out loud what you’d been thinking the whole time. “Trust me, I'm suddenly very impatient to find that out.” You admitted with a smile and opened you eyes, looking at him through your lashes.

Fucked out and sweaty Hamzah was breathtaking. And now he was yours to admire, without any secret staring.

Hamzah kissed you softly, still with passion but not as feverish. He slowly moved you both into a sitting position before he stood up with you in his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“What I said I would,” Is all he said. You were a bit confused until he spoke again.

“I'm gonna show you…” He kissed you long then finished his sentence. “I’m gonna show you i’ve imagined every fucking day.”

Your body grew immediately hot again.

“Alright. Show me.” You said quietly into his ear, nibbling it once as he carried you upstairs and into your bedroom. “But you might need to tell Martin your gonna film the video another day…”

He smiled big with his perfect teeth and shook his head with laughter.

He must be hallucinating because there’s no way he’s about to fuck the girl of his dreams.

NEXT PART

[factual-fantasy]

I've been thinking about adding Skywarp and Thundercracker to my AU for a while now. :0 I'm thinking the two of them and Screamer will be a set of triplets. Not clones or drones or whatever else they may be in other continuities. Any other "seekers" or "flight frames"...? Will not look identical to the trio.

(These are a little batch of test redesigns. I have a looot more passes to do before I'm satisfied! <XDD)

And then Jetfire... I've thought about adding him which is why I've drawn this scene for fun, buuuuuutt ultimately I don't think Jetfire has a place in my AU. It leaves too many plot holes and angst in its wake.

(A ramble on why Jetfire wont work is below! <XD)

The first reason why I don't think Jetfire (aka Skyfire) can exist in my AU, is because of this paragraph from his wiki:

"Millions of years ago on Cybertron, before the war, Skyfire and Starscream were good friends and fellow scientists. On a mission of exploration to prehistoric Earth, Skyfire was lost in a storm. Starscream searched, but there was no sign of his comrade. He returned home."

Now, Optimus does say that Earth and Cybertron have been intertwined for what seems like forever. But -unless there's something I don't know/remember- no living cybertronian ever set foot/made any contact with Earth in any way until AFTER the war began. So how and why did Starscream and Jetfire go to Earth before the war? It conflicts with canon.

The second reason is a simple one really. While it may have worked in G1, I cannot find a logical explanation as to HOW Jetfire was still alive and could be reactivated after crashing into the Arctic. It not like he was put into stasis on purpose and kept in a special pod in the warm desert, like Skyquake. He CRASHED into the ARCTIC. So not only was he wounded but there was literally a WHOLE EPISODE in Prime about how the cold has devastating effects on the cybertronian body. Within HOURS of being there, Optimus Prime and Arcee were literally about to die. There is just no way Jetfire logically survives in this continuity..

And lastly, there's where the story would go afterwards. And I don't like what I see. :(

You see, if I bring Jetfire into my AU, I want him to stay friends with Starscream and stay with him. But making that happen requires me to break at least something from canon.

Option 1: Jetfire stays with the Decepticons and supports their cause. Which wont work because his whole story arc is being an ex-con who doesn't agree with what their doing-

Option 2: Starscream has a redemption arc and joins the Autobots with Jetfire. This is a problem because I would want Thundercracker and Skywarp to go with them. And tbh I don't think any of the screamers can be redeemed. They're cons to their core. To make them switch sides would feel too forced. Plus I like the 3 idiots being cons and getting on Megs nerves XD

Option 3: The timeline is the same as G1. Jetfire splits from the cons and joins the Autobots, leaving the triplets behind. This is obviously sad and I don't want that. 🫸

So with that all laid out, I have Jetfire in the bleachers for now. If I can find a way to solve all 3 of these problems then I'll add him to my AU in a heart beat. And everyone is welcome to correct me on any of these if I got the facts wrong or if you have any ideas on how to bring him into my AU! :0 I want to add him I just don't see a satisfying way to do it yet.

Thank you for reading! :)))

[swampjawn]

Dungeon Meshi Episode 7 was super interesting from an adaptation standpoint - this'll be a little different from what I usually write about (though I do still talk about the animation in the full video).

Studio Trigger have never done a straight-up manga adaptation before - and led by Yoshihiro Miyajima, a big fan of the manga who pushed hard for the adaptation to get made, and who has never directed a full series before, it was unclear if they'd be able to find the right balance between a simple panel-for-panel recreation and making something that's completely different.

And in the first few episodes, you could really feel the tension between the influence of a cautious young creative with great respect for the source material, and a studio with a unique established visual style. It kinda seemed like they were ping-ponging willy-nillily between the two sides of that spectrum.

But this episode showed that Miyajima (and series writer Kimiko Ueno) can take 3 chapters, slice them up and rearrange them into a cohesive-feeling episode while taking into account the differences between screen and page, and using them to their advantage.

Starting with the way the water looks. This line from the manga describes a faint magical glow to the water in this lake and you can see that the cavern fades into darkness above, but Kui's illustration style doesn't really define lighting and shadows very much compared to the cel-drawing style of animation. So the animators took the opportunity to use the water as the light source, and make a whole episode that's lit almost entirely from below. It really gives an otherworldly feeling to this area.

Particularly when the Kelpie shows up, that under-lighting works wonders to define its anatomy within the relatively simple line art.

What do you do when you can't show the immense fuck-off scale of a monster with a beautiful full-page spread like this?

Well you use what you do have: the ability to move the camera instead. This is such a great way to communicate the scale of this thing, AND such a great way to show some of Senshi's anime-original butt-cheeks!

This is one of my favorite shots from this episode - this whole sequence is super hectic, cutting quickly from character to character, but they use tricks like this to keep you from getting confused. This is framed much like it is in the manga, but with the moving image, they're able to use the trajectory of the fish head in the background to lead your eye directly from Chilchuck, right to the point where Senshi pops up in the foreground and transition seamlessly from one character to another!

Now, it's not all good - I am a bit disappointed that they removed Marcille's own Senshi-style soap-making montage, which was the perfect visual representation of the culmination of the character development and understanding built between Senshi and Marcille.

It's a shame to see it go.

I get more into that, what else was cut, and much more in this video where I broke down the entire episode!

Check it out if you feel like it. If you don't, jump in a ditch, cover yourself in leaves and jump out at people as they walk by.

Thanks for reading!

[essycogany]

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments

Sonic Swooning Over Amy

So, Sonic’s been kind of the driving force of Sonamy recently. Let’s analyze that.

I’ll show Sonic having feelings for Amy in almost every media aside from Fleetway and the few cartoons she isn’t in. I’ll also present the “whys” in more detail then just “Amy calmed down.” While that’s part of it, I’d like to add my own can of worms. And possible headcanons too. Bear in mind I never grew up with Sonic, so forgive my mixed opinions.

While I love Amy having a crush on Sonic like the energetic sugarplum she is, nowadays Sonic’s oddly been the drive of their dynamic. Any examples of it beforehand? Let’s look outside of the games first.

Sonic X

This Sonic takes more time to himself. He’s introverted, so his feelings for her isn’t displayed as obviously as the others. In fact, most people think he didn’t like her in this show because of how much he runs away. He even manipulated her by flirting in one episode. In my opinion this show has Sonic running away from Amy more often than not. Hot take: Sonic and Amy never had a real conversation either. They didn’t…talk like they do now. Unless you count,

“Oh, Sonic I love you!” “Ah! C’mon, Amy. Knock it off!” No, it wasn’t constant but still common.

From my point of view, the conversations were short lived to none existent. It was the same in the earlier games too. Compared to how they talked to other characters or now, you might be able to notice. At least until Sonic And The Black Night where he talks to both The Lady Of The Lake and Amy. The two would also have visual gags of Sonic getting aggressively hugged by Amy. Or Amy falling on her face while trying. Aside from one moment in Sonic Riders where Sonic put Amy in danger, it wasn’t good or bad. Just cartoony for lack of a better term.

Maybe I’m just insane. You decided.

Anyhow, their dynamic in X is clearly built on actions. Like Amy giving Sonic a seashell bracelet and Sonic giving her a rose. Those little things. While I do prefer them being able to hold longer conversations, I don’t mind how X handles them. But let’s get to Sonic’s crush. I assume in Sonic X Sonic is conflicted. He’ll run away from Amy or try to pull from her on most occasions and others Sonic would constantly hold onto her when he doesn’t have to. For a long period on time no less. Amy’s the same way. One moment she’d be head over heels and other she’s bashful. Goes to show how young they were I guess. I have no clue as to why Sonic liked her back because there wasn’t much to go off of. Except the bracelet moment or her general kindness like feeding him one time. She was a bit much to him and most characters back then.

It’s possible Sonic just liked her and that was it, but I’d imagine due to all of the hand holding and small reciprocated gestures were enough to convey something was there. Straight forward and simple like the show itself. I headcanon this Sonamy being where the boyfriend gets dragged into a relationship and is fine with it. This version of Sonic’s attraction seems to be chaotic pink hedgehogs apparently.

Sonic Boom

Should I even explain it? Might as well because not only do I have something different to say, but these two haven’t been brought up much. Sonic and Amy’s romance mostly is played for laughs. Not saying their love for each other means less because of that, but the humor is the main reason they exist. Much like why in the main canon they started out the way they did. Regardless, I’ll dive deeper into Boom!Sonic’s affection for Amy to the best of my ability.

Boom!Sonic is egotistical, so whenever he thinks Amy’s crushing on someone else, it bothers him. Apparently he’s the only one she’s allowed to like. No “Radical Speedsters” or “Celebrities” can take her attention away from him. Like in Sonic X he tries to keep his crush to a minimum. Even though both him and Amy are terrible at it.

The moment in “Fortress Of Squalitude” a episode where everyone is a bit rude to Amy, close to the end Sonic says, “We may have a hard time saying it Amy. But…well you know.” Then she responds with, “Yeah, I know.” It’s such a sweet moment. Not as powerful as most moments with them but for Boom it’s very nice. Sonic and the others still value her as part of the team, but it’s Sonic who expresses it out loud. Goes to show how much he cares about her for even attempting to open up in this instance. Didn’t even have to finish the sentence. Amy understood perfectly. I also noticed how much he tries his best to impress her. When he needs to return her book back, finds her hammer in Archie, (Vector did it in the show and Sonic got jealous) shows off randomly or dreams about her, and stopped racing to get her some eggs in one episode.

The funny thing about this Sonic is how much of a people pleaser he can be. Especially since the towns people are very spoiled and ungrateful. He wants to be needed and that’s possibly why he goes out of his way to do special things for Amy like go out on picnics, implied dates, and comforts her. She’s very take charge in Boom and Sonic has no problem calling her out when he needs to. Much like Amy in the show and games. Sonic will even put effort into doing things he doesn’t feel like doing for her. How honorable of him. Sure, sometimes he tries to make her jealous and isn’t perfect, but he tries. I believe Sonic likes Amy because again like Sonic X Boom isn’t canon, so more outright reciprocated feelings are allowed in this case. Not to mention the dude likes being shipped with her in the show. Which is a win in my book.

Sonic enjoys bugging Amy much like a playful boyfriend. He probably admires her leadership, but I’m saying this by observation. It could be for anything. Maybe he thinks she’s cute when she’s mad and finds her temper amusing. It could also be for her stubbornness. Some people like each other because of how much they can relate to their partner and in Sonic Boom’s case they’re two cuts of the same cloth. Although still different, due to the show’s theme, they carry the same condescending, slightly self centered, hotheaded, stubborn, and humorous traits. But they’re still good hedgehogs with a heart of gold and usually makes reasonable decisions. Not to mention they’re both equally shy about their crushes. In Sonic Boom, Sonic and Amy is that married couple who doesn’t get along much, but when they do you’ll understand why they stay together.

Reboot Archie Sonic

I haven’t read the comics (unless you count watching a few dubs and internet reviews) but I’ll give my limited thoughts. Luckily there’s not much to say. Although most people believe it was unintentional, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch that someone from Archie thought it was a fun idea to have Sonic crush on somone in this reboot. Maybe it’s unintentional but it doesn’t seem that way.

I’m basically using this part of the post to ramble about how Reboot Archie’s Sonic still manages to be a casanova. He’s like a mixture of his old self and how he is in the games. That’s also why he acts the way he does around Amy. Could it also possibly mean he’s meant to like her canonically too? Reboot Archie did have to follow a more accurate way of writing Sonic after all. Anyways, let’s run down the list of Game!Sonic if he was allowed to be down bad for Amy like they’re already dating. Which is how I view this continuity. It’s basically if Boom and X had a weird fusion and this version of Sonic’s crush was the result. Except here he manages to be more bold and upfront. He knows what he’s doing. Here’s a run down.

First of all, THIS. No joke, more of these interactions would send me to the moon. I would explain why but the panel speaks for itself.

Sonic says, “I was worried about you.” Which he hasn’t admitted to her before this to my knowledge. He states this by giving her a side hug. Along with other out of nowhere physical affection and flirting. Not to single out Sonally fans. Sonic and Sally clearly have a close connection people appreciate and I respect that. In any case, Sonic and Amy in Reboot Archie also matches energies so much. They’re both clearly running off the same brain cell. You’d think they were together. They’d be a chaotic couple that’ll do the most outlandish things and somehow manage to survive them. After willfully risking their lives they’d do it again because being normal and safe is boring. I promise you, this version of Sonamy would be a huge force to be reckoned with.

-I’d also like to mention my friend Salty showed an example of Sonic being jealous of Knuckles coming with Amy on a mission and it’s brilliant. Dude gets all bratty about it too. Archie!Sonic does not play around. The post in question.

Sonic Prime

Already talked about this in another post, but I want to mention it again. Prime!Sonic is the most sensitive version of the character, so it’s no surprise he displays his admiration for Amy freely and out loud.

This moment says enough on its own. Sonic’s like this throughout the entirety of Prime and even changes the tone of his voice when speaking to or about her. It’s so authentic and adorable and makes him stand out against other variants.

Amy’s crush on Sonic in Prime is up to interpretation, but I don’t think she likes him in that way personally. Like other characters, Amy tends to be done with Sonic’s childishness. Guess she thinks he’s probably too immature to be boyfriend material whether she has feelings or not. Sonic on the other hand, acts how you wouldn’t expect. I personally see him as his own interpretation, so I’m fine with it. If he wants to have goo-goo eyes for Amy in Prime, it’s cool.

Prime!Sonic has it bad and I wouldn’t be shocked if he’d be the one wanting to go out on dates. Maybe he’d cook dinner for her sense he cooks in the show. I’d imagine Amy declining at first, but does it after his constant begging. They’d be swapped version of most emotional to least emotional. Prime!Amy would be a girlfriend who feels more like a parent than a partner.

Unleashed/Black Night

No one can bring up Sonic Unleashed without the lovely Amy meeting the Werehog scene. I love how Sonic didn’t like Amy hugging him, but right after she left he solemnly mopes around for probably the first and last time. He’s never in any game slowly moped around disappointedly before. Proving he only has certain reactions when it comes to Amy Rose. At least in some continuities. Unleashed gives you a choice to go on a date with Amy or not. Then the next game Sonic Team followed through with it, but ended up having Amy mad at Sonic for missing it. At least Sonic tried. Not to mention his reaction to The Lady Of The Lake and him flirting is fun to watch.

See how Sonic still likes her back but it isn’t because she’s “calmed down?” She’s still the same excitable love strucked Amy. There must be something more to it. Other than the obvious answer with Sonic Team wanting to do something with the pear. I have no idea why but having multiple hints even in the past must’ve been done for the fun of it. “We created this love interest but then railed back to Sonic not reciprocating her feelings. But we still want to market them as a couple in some way.” This franchise never cease to confuse me.

Amy encouraging Sonic in one of the cutscenes could’ve been where he started liking her back. Not in the way he does now, but he admired her none stop compassion and might’ve wanted to return the favor. “Eh, she’s sweet. Maybe a date won’t be so bad.” The fact he went out of his way to get her a chilidog and flirted with a different version of her should tell you enough. Of course it would take a while before anything else happened. 

IDW/Sonic Frontiers

Yeah, after issue 2, Sonic’s never felt the need to run from Amy. From the comics to Sonic Frontiers there’s a lot of moments of Sonic being somewhat emotionally candid. Not by much, but close. I believe Amy’s the reason for that in a way. Sonic’s not afraid to hang out with her anymore. He even hugs her back on some occasions. “Ames” was a nickname from fanfics and Boom which became canon over time and he occasionally calls her that.

Sonic wishes to share an umbrella and spend more time with her. He also gets excited to see her more often. It’s like Reboot Archie but slightly toned down. At least up until the hard to trigger lines from Sonic Frontiers. The same game where he outright admits to being worried about Amy and smiles back at her with a Coco looking between the two. Then he supports Amy’s decision to leave etc. We all know where we are now.

Crazy how the more you look into this franchise the more tiny details you notice. It’s also crazy how much Sonic’s been into the love interest he originally was already supposed to love. To me, Sonic had a crush on Amy in Unleashed but fell in love with her in IDW. What makes Sonamy gripping though is how unique it is compared to most romantic relationships. Leaves it to be more entertaining whenever something unexpected happenes. It keeps you engaged.

Why Sonic Crushes On Amy?

1. Amy doesn’t want to slow him down. Obviously because of IDW issue 2’s love confession with Amy saying “I can’t change you. I don’t want to change you.” Amy joins Sonic and he includes her more often because of that. His speed is no match for her persistence anyways.

2. She shows compassion and love for those around her. Not just to Sonic, but everyone. She’s the definition of soft hearted. Even for people Sonic and his friends would be weary about. Think about now in the recent comics and games where Sonic’s trying it out. I do think it should be more of Amy’s thing then Sonic’s but it just goes to show how much she probably inspired him. Who knows? Even in the past he had respect Amy for her tenderheartedness.

3. Amy’s energy matches Sonic’s. Though sometimes she can be overly enthusiastic compared to him. Even before now, Amy’s always been adventurous and that’s probably something Sonic liked from the start. Not in a romantic way, but in a respectful way. If he were to have a partner he’d need someone to keep him grounded and be on the same level. No exceptions.

4. Her loyalty. No matter what Sonic does (including times she disagrees) she’s one of Sonic’s most loyalist companions. Obviously other characters are too, but Amy has her being a long time childhood friend/Sonic 06 and Unleashed going for her. 06 for trusting Sonic over Silver and Unleashed for still loving Sonic despite his transformation. Heck, before she knew who the Werehog was she wasn’t disgusted. Amy’s commendable for that.

From all these points here physical attraction isn’t included. What I like about both characters is their crushes don’t stem to how they look. Though it is worth mentioning Sonic has called Amy “Radiant” in TMOSTH, but that’s probably the closest we’ll ever get to an outright physical compliment. From Sonic at least.

- Side note thanks to @saltynsassy31 again, Sonic and Amy’s dynamic can be summed up as not a relationship but rather a situationship. Yes, it’s a real word. What does it mean? Basically two friends who has crushes on each other but doesn’t do anything about it. Just a fun detail for you guys.

Why Did Sonic Run From Amy In The Past?

I’ll make this quick, but the reason Sonic ran from Amy wasn’t because he didn’t like her. On the contrary. Sonic always could’ve ran at his normal speed to get away from her. Sonic’s the fastest thing alive. Why would he let someone he “didn’t like” catch up to him? I personally think he enjoyed the thrill of the chase. It’s why I believe he misses it nowadays. Though I do understand Sonic didn’t often treat Amy like a friend. Not in a way I can understand at least. Not that I think their relationship was bad, but from what I’ve seen, it was more told then shown due to Sonic and the gang not including her on missions. Amy normally had to catch up with them which was a running gag. Especially in SA2. It might be why some prefere her in stuff like Reboot Archie, Boom, IDW, and Frontiers. Because Amy’s friends includes her on adventures now. At least in my opinion. Correct me if I missed anything.

Final Headcanon

Since Sonic in the games has been the one to push the Sonic side of Sonamy much more then Amy does for herself, I’d like to think in most cases (especially as their dynamic grows) Sonic would start carrying other versions of him traits like trying to mess with her.

He’d want to get her to chase him more often and Amy would probably ask once or twice, “What’s going on and why are you acting weird?” He’d definitely play it off as him fooling around. Sonic doesn’t know much about romance, but he does know what Amy likes. Maybe he’d ask her out or go on a bunch of traveling missions. Anything to get her to pay attention to him again. After all, there’s been examples of the guy feeling ignored by her in and out of canon. It’s possible.

-There’s also a consistent detail where Sonic’s finally ready to open up but has to deal with Amy doing her own thing. Or when he’s face with different variants of her, he’s flirtatious with them. For the fastest thing alive, he has terrible timing when it comes to making his mind up.

Conclusion

Welp, there you have it, darlings. Examples of Sonic crushing on Amy more than some would think. It’s a Sonic character analysis and Sonamy post all in one. I know there’s more, but I think this gathers examples from the actual content.

Stay Creative! 💜

[minghaoes]

pouty cuddles [drabble]

mingyu comes home after a day of filming gose and everyone's been meaner to him than usually. what else could he need than being in your arms and dramatically complain about his members, who he loves dearly?

TAGS: kim mingyu x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, the members are mean to mingyu but he's handling it like a champ (he isn't)

WORD COUNT: 800 words

a/n: my first seventeen fic !! i haven't written fanfics in a minute and i'm a bit rusty so it's shorter than what i will post in the future, but i hope that y'all will enjoy it nevertheless :) please let me know what you think and happy reading !!

Mingyu was pouting. His lower lip was slightly puffed, his cheeks looked a little rounder than they usually did, and his eyes, his eyes were big and brown as they looked right into yours. His head was resting on your chest close to your chin, and Mingyu could not stop staring at your face. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and he seemed comically small in that moment. 

Your left hand softly caressed the warm skin on his back, as the fingers on your right slowly played with his curls. Mingyu sighed quietly and leaned into your touch, not before exaggerating his pout just a little bit more. It was enough to make you coo at him and press a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.

“They were mean to me,” Mingyu said, the pout ever so evident in his voice. You suppressed a laugh and indulged in his behaviour. “Who was mean to you, baby?”

Mingyu closed his eyes at the pet name and pressed his body even closer to yours. His body felt heavy on yours, but still comfortable. The warmth radiating from his body was enough to keep you warm, to keep you happy. 

“The members,” he mumbled, and shuffled a bit further up. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he complained: “They said I’m always scared.”

It took you a lot of self restraint to not start laughing. Granted, Mingyu had not been telling you what today’s episode was about, but considering you know how your boyfriend behaved in certain situations, the members’ statement was not that far off from the truth. Yet, the pout on Mingyu’s face was enough to have you reconsider agreeing with them, even playfully. Instead, you opted for lightly scratching his head and pressing a kiss on top of his hair. “My poor baby.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu nodded. His lips grazed the skin of your neck and you smiled, hugging him closer to your chest. In response, Mingyu hummed and kissed the same spot softly. He kept kissing you over and over again, until he started speaking again.

“I’m not actually mad at them,” he confessed, and you hummed, “Who would have thought.”

“HOWEVER,” he interrupted you sassily, another pout already forming on his plush lips, “I’m not scared of everything.”

You smiled at him, but Mingyu only furrowed his eyebrows. Your right hand wandered further down from his hair to his forehead, to massage the worry line gently. 

“I’m not scared of being with you,” Mingyu confessed quietly. His eyes flickered back down, feeling less confident now that you reciprocated his gaze. “I’m not scared of committing to you. To give myself to you.”

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows now. You tried to sit up straight, but Mingyu would not let you. Instead, you opted for hugging him with both of your arms around his neck. 

“Where’s that coming from, darling?”

Mingyu whined and put his head back into place right in the crease of your neck, right on top of your shoulder. 

“Just been thinking ‘bout marriage a lot lately, that’s all,” he replied casually, not knowing that the simple words made your heart beat just a little bit faster than it already did. 

“Yeah?” you replied breathlessly, trying your best to maintain your breathing. Mingyu nodded again, sounding a bit more insecure this time. “If that’s what you’re considering too. No pressure if you’re not interested. I mean, I would be hurt by it, but I respect any decision you might mak-” 

Giggling, you pulled Mingyu’s head up to press a kiss on his lips. Your hand was holding his cheek and caressing the soft skin below your fingertips. In turn, Mingyu’s eyes returned to your face, the same big and brown eyes you had grown to love. The pout was evident on his lips again, and in response, you kissed him over and over again, until the lovesick frown returned to his brows, his eyes softer than you have ever seen them.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted, pressing another kiss on the tip of his nose. Mingyu turned his head upwards, trying to catch your lips with his. He whined when you pulled away, his lips returning to his natural pout. 

“Baby,” he said, his eyes switching back and forth between your eyes and your lips, “that’s unfair. I’m still sad. Why are all of you always mean to me?”

You cooed and littered his entire face with kisses. Mingyu giggled at your antics and sighed contentedly. For now, you did not have to know that his members had been nagging him about proposing to you. The box he was hiding in his sock drawer was also completely unrelated to his theatrics. 

[cameforstuff]

Hate Mail

Stan had gotten used to reading and replying to piles of mail in a day, slowed by carefully deciphering the messy crayon so he could give the best response. It would usually take him several minutes to think of the perfect doodle to slip in with it. Sometimes he would scrap it several times before he was happy with the result.

His last letter was from a little girl from California asking if it could rain soda she poured it into the ocean. He’d written a polite answer explaining that it would be bad for the sea animals, and a simple experiment she could do with evaporation instead. After a bit of thought he drew Dr. Pine sitting a a table chatting with a sea turtle in purple crayon at the bottom. He was almost glad he had not improved his drawing skills since he was twelve. 

The next letter shocked him a bit. He almost set it aside when he saw it, thinking a bill had been slipped with the fan letters. Yet there on the front, in almost obnoxious cursive, was the typical address to Dr. Pine. There was no return address.

Another odd thing about the letter was just how carefully it had been put together. The wording straight and the envelope closed seemingly perfectly. Yet the bottom corner was scrunched like the writer had been holding it like their life depended on it. Stan opened the letter, to his surprise there was two. 

The first was like any letter from a kid, slightly messy handwriting gushing about their favorite part of the last episode. The ‘Tate Mcgucket’ seemed to really enjoy them discussing the lake’s food web and listed a few of his favorite fish. 

The second letter however was not as kind. It listed 12 inaccuracies in the episode. Each going in lengthy detail. He could only skim it as the text shrunk to save room. The explanations were familiar in a way. Kind of like how he tried to explain things, but laced with passive aggressive remarks. Hate mail was a thing he had gotten from angsty teenagers and upset parents on occasion, but this letter felt different. It was addressed by a ‘Mr. Mystery PhD, A real one unlike yours.’ He stared at the letter for several minutes unsure of what to do with it. 

He moved back to the first letter, replying to it like any other. Drawing a Dr. Pine riding a large bass. He quickly popped open a book for references, this kid seemed like the type to appreciate the effort. Then he looked back at the other letter. A bit of annoyance now when he remembered the letter had no return address. He pinned both to a the corkboard above his desk and moved on to replying to other letters.

He decided he was going to get his reply to Tate, not only because he was determined to reply to every letter, but also to spite this ‘Mr Mystery.’ He may be right that Stan is not a real doctor, but he was a man to stubborn for his own good

______

And thus a saga of mail exchanges begins. Where? Uh I lost it in shipping, you know how mail goes.

Forgot to link the post that this is based on.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Sharing a safehouse

masterlist

summary: after a mission gone wrong, you and Natasha are forced to lay low in a small safehouse somewhere in the countryside of England. It’s small, uncomfortable, and you’ve never been able to really connect with Natasha during your time on the team. what happens when you and Natasha are basically forced to connect?

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: none

genre: fluff

words: 1645

a/n: I would like a standing applause for the fact that I am posting another fic in the span of a month. it has happened. the apocalypse has struck 

also, have I written this trope before? yes, yes I have. will I be writing this trope again? yes, yes I will

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

The silence is unbearable. It’s not like you were against the quiet, on the contrary. You liked  a calm, quiet environment to work and relax. No, it was the quiet with Natasha that you couldn’t bear. 

You and Natasha never were the best team, mainly because it seemed Natasha just didn’t want anything to do with you. 

You didn’t blame her, truly, you didn’t. You weren’t afraid to admit you were a pretty odd kid. You liked stuffed animals, cartoons, and sometimes, when you were certain no one was watching, you’d open your drawer and take out your dolls. 

It wasn’t like you got to have any fun things when you were a child, and something as simple as a doll would have been harder to acquire than literal gold. 

You weren’t shy about admitting you had a fucked up childhood, and you weren’t shy to be watching Winx Club in the living room of the Avengers compound. It was funny, really, how at first Sam made fun of you, yet slowly started to get more and more invested to the point he would ask you when you were going to start the next episode. 

He was a total Winx Club fan now. 

The rest of the team seemed to pretty much ignore your childish side. Not in a rude manner, but rather in an uninterested manner. They didn’t think you were weird, and you liked it that way. 

Natasha, however, wasn’t at all holding back when she saw you watching a cartoon or coloring at the table.

It wasn’t like she’d get angry, but she would walk away, or give you a look like you were vermin. 

You never quite understood where her disdain for you came from. She was your favourite superhero, yet she treated you like dirt under her shoe. She wasn’t gentle when making her comments, either. 

Sometimes, when you were drawing, she’d make a comment about how you were far too old for such things, and while you were watching a cartoon she’d scoff like you were insane. 

It was a literal cartoon, not the end of the world. 

You had gotten pretty good at ignoring her antics over the past year, but you couldn’t deny that they still stung. Why did she despise you breathing so much?

At the moment, Natasha was caught up in writing her mission report while you were curled up on the couch, which doubled as the bench for the table and the bed you would be sleeping in. 

Tony was fucking loaded. Why the hell was this safehouse a literal trailer?

You were reading Rainbow Magic; Ruby, the Red Fairy. Occasionally, you’d glance up from your book, and you’d catch a glimpse of Natasha’s disapproving stare before she’d continue working. 

Okay, fine, maybe bringing the Rainbow Magic series wasn’t the most strategic plan with such a fairytale hater, but who could blame you? Those fairy books were actually very enjoyable. 

You ignored Natasha’s judgement, finishing your book before you got up, walking to the small cupboard and pulling open the doors.

Expecting for some form of entertainment in this trailer was clearly too much to ask. 

The cupboard didn’t hold much, safe for a few spiders and a bucket of cleaning supplies that looked to be at least two-hundred years past their expiration date. 

And then, at the far top shelf, you could see a chessboard peeking out amongst the shelves.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to reach it, but you got it. 

By now, Natasha had finished her mission report and was studying your every move. Of course, you caught up to her staring almost immediately, and you turned to face her while holding up the chess board. 

“Do you play?” 

Natasha frowned, before sighing and giving you a singular nod. Well, more excitement was clearly too much to ask. 

Natasha leaned forward, clearing the table of her papers and reaching for your book. She half expected her to just throw it on top of your bag in the corner, and you were more than surprised when she picked it up gently and handled it with much more care than you thought her to be capable of. 

When the table was cleared, you put the chess board down, handing Natasha the box that the white pieces were stuffed in. 

“I’m always black,” Natasha said while frowning at the colour of the pieces in the box. 

“Sure.” You passed the box with the black pieces to Natasha while arranging the white pieces on your own playing field. 

Once all the pieces were put in place, Natasha made the first move, to which you immediately responded by putting her piece back in its place. 

“White starts,” you mention as you make your own move.

Natasha huffs but doesn’t protest, instead moving her own pieces to defend against your attack. 

The game continued far into the night, and after playing for nearly three hours, you finally made your last move, trapping Natasha in a check-mate. 

“I let you do that,” Natasha says before rearranging her own pieces. 

“Sure you did,” you respond before placing your own pieces back on the board. 

“Don’t you have to go to bed? It’s far past your bedtime,” Natasha asks, glancing at the clock on the whole. 

“I don’t have a bedtime,” you remark, making your move with the chess piece. 

“You act like a child, yet you don’t go to bed on time?” 

To your surprise, you didn’t hear any judgement in Natasha’s tone. Just pure confusion. A genuine question not meant to insult you. You didn’t expect that. 

You look up at her, frowning before shrugging. 

“Can’t sleep. Nightmares,” you say, counteracting Natasha’s move by blocking her piece. “And even if I wanted to, we’re sitting on my bed.”

As if the evening wasn’t surprising enough, Natasha lets out a huff of amusement. 

“We can share the big bed. It’ll help with the nightmares,” she suggests. 

“Why?” you ask, keeping your eyes on the game in the hopes of preventing awkward eye contact. 

Natasha shrugs. “I dunno know. Another presence helps with preventing nightmares or something. There’s a study on it.”

“No, I mean why are you so nice? Why offer to share your bed with me when you normally can’t even stand to share the same room?”

At that, Natasha looks up, a hint of guilt mixed into her usual calm facial expression. 

“It’s not personal,” she says, moving her chess piece. 

“Then what is it? You’ve barely shared one conversation with me since I joined a year ago.”

“You’re a child,” Natasha suddenly says after a moment of silence. There’s venom in her voice, yet you can feel it isn’t directed at you. 

“You should be able to play with your dolls without having to feel the need to hide, and you should be able to go to school and make friends and stupid decisions. You shouldn’t live in a compound with superheroes and fight super villains weekly. You are a child, and you should be able to be one.” 

You fall silent for a moment, shocked at her revelation of knowing about your dolls, and shocked at the amount of emotion hidden under her confession. 

“You don’t hate me?”

Natasha’s head shoots up, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“Hate you? What ever gave you the impression that I hate you?”

You shook your head. “You avoid me, you scoff wherever I’m drawing or watching something in the common room. It feels like you judge me, daily.”

At that, Natasha’s facial expression softens, and her expression turns glum.

“I never meant for you to feel like you were in the wrong, and I am so sorry for that. I wasn’t judging you, I was judging the situation you’re in.” Natasha inhaled a sharp breath, turning back to the chess board and making another move. 

“Fury gave you a choice. Either prison, or joining the Avengers. You never even did anything wrong. You were just a child, graced with powers that no one understood and everyone feared. You didn’t deserve prison, and you didn’t deserve the threat of prison. You deserved a family.”

You sighed. 

“And in a way, I got a family. The Avengers are nice-”

“They’re not your family, they’re your team. There’s a difference. Sure, they care about you, but if they were your family, they’d want you to live a life, rather than become a superhero.”

Natasha fell silent, and at her words, so did you. 

Was she right? If the Avengers were your family, would they want you to live a normal, domestic life somewhere else, rather than the superhero life you were living right now?

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, it’s not like I hate my life. Just the paperwork,” you remark, moving your queen to once again trap Natasha in a check-mate. 

“I want to work something out, if you’ll let me,” Natasha then said, pouting when you took her king. 

“Like what?” you ask.

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Something that’ll put you off missions, at least until you’re twenty-one or something. Maybe older. Something legal. I mean, you’re not even allowed to drink in the United States. Why the hell are you allowed, or better said, forced, to risk your life daily?”

At that, you snort.

“You make a good point.” 

“We’ll figure something out, I promise,” Natasha states, helping you clear the chessboard and standing up from the bench. 

“Now, it is time for bed. Tomorrow we’ll see if there’s a bakery or something in this god forsaken place.”

You snicker, taking Natasha’s hand and allowing her to lead you. Maybe she doesn’t hate you as much as you thought she did. 

Bonus a/n: rainbow magic; Ruby the Red Fairy is the first ever book I read in English.

Edit: I lied. I found the Rainbow Magic book yesterday. It was Erin, the Firebird fairy

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @papimapileon @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @l1kepeps1cvla @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[wobblingjello]

The First Chapter of Our Story

Summary: Post prison Spencer enjoyed his spare time in the library. One day, you interrupted his reading time.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3218

Warnings: None??

Author Notes: Please enjoy a tooth-rotting fluff of Spencer and Reader meet-cute!!!

After Spencer was out of prison, he spent most of his spare time in the library. If people asked him why, well for the obvious reasons; he liked reading, and he found solitude by burying himself in books. Now that he also had a mandatory teaching role, he wanted to make sure that he had everything that he needed for his classes. If he wasn’t in the field catching UnSubs or teaching his classes,  then he was most definitely in the library.

Furthermore, as a creature of habit, Spencer always visited the same library. (One time he was completely immersed in reading, he forgot he supposedly had lunch with Garcia and Emily — they found him with zero trouble. He was that predictable). The library was only 2 hours away from his apartment. He could easily get there by metro, or once in a while when he was up for a ride, then he’d ride his car. Not only was the distance convenient for him, the library had a few cozy reading spaces on the second floor — made it even easier for him to get lost in books.

This week was Spencer’s last week on his 30-day mandatory off field. He still had at least 2 classes before he was back on duty. As for today, he wanted to spend it in his current favorite go-to place. After making a simple breakfast; waffle and a cup of coffee, Spencer walked out of his apartment. Honestly, he was still a bit sleepy. He stayed up late rewatching a few episodes of Doctor Who until 2:00 AM. He almost drifted back to sleep when the alarm went off, but he managed to fight that urge. He feared he might end up staying inside the whole day if he did. He used to be fine spending his day off at his apartment, but after prison, it could make him feel trapped. Being in the library was a nice compromise for him — he was technically out in a public space, but could have minimum interaction with other people.

Spencer occupied one of the reading spaces, and had picked more than 10 books to read — some reading materials for his next classes and novels in Russian and German. He had his nose stuck in a book, he didn’t even notice someone approaching him. He heard someone clearing their throat to get his attention. When he looked up from his book, he saw you standing close to him. Tightly holding a novel and a notebook to your chest.

“Um, can I help you with something?” Spencer hesitantly asked, voice barely audible. He was in the library after all.

“I don’t know how to say this without making me sound like a creep, but I’ve seen you here a couple of times, and you always have so many books with you. I always wonder, are you even able to finish reading all of them?” You asked him in one go, with the same hush voice as him.

He was looking at you wide-eyed. Noticing how you were almost out of breath by the time you were done talking, like you were trying to say everything in one breath. Was this how others saw him when he rambled? Spencer found himself dumbfounded, and you most likely took his silence as a sign that he was mortified with what you just said.

“Oh God. I just scared you off, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’ll just—” You whisper-yelled.

“Hey. It’s okay.” He started softly. He didn’t want to cause more panic for you. “I can answer your question. Do you want to sit here with me?” Wait, what? He wasn’t sure where that came from, and he certainly surprised himself. Well, it was already out in the wild, and he couldn’t take it back.

“Are you sure?”

Spencer saw you fidgeting in the corner of your notebook, and he feared you might damage it. He rearranged the books at the table and motioned the chair across him for you to sit. He could tell you hesitated to sit, but you eventually did. Once you seemed comfortable in your chair, he continued the conversation again.

“Our conscious mind can process 16-bits of information per second. Our unconscious, however, can process 11 million. I can read 20,000 words per minute. So, to answer your question, yes, I’m actually able to finish reading all of them because I can read that fast.”

“Wow. You intrigued me even more now. Are you a genius or something? I bet you are.”

“I do have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, so you bet right.”

“Do you mind telling me what you do, genius?”

Spencer, in fact, didn’t mind at all. With a hush voice, for almost an hour, he talked about his job at the BAU, his classes, and why he spent so much time in the library (he spared the part where he once went to prison — he didn’t wish to scare you off). In return, he learned that you worked as a pediatric nurse. When you weren’t at the hospital, providing care for the little ones, you also enjoyed your day off in the library — just like him. Sometimes you even attended a pottery class. It was a new hobby you started a few months ago. You showed the mug you made in your last class a month ago. Another thing he learned was your name, just like you learned his.

Once the two of you finished sharing stories, you both fell into comfortable silence and continued reading your respective books — Spencer still needed to take a few notes for his next classes. Every now and then, he’d glance at you before going back to his notes. He noticed how sometimes you’d smile when you flipped the pages. What kind of story made you smile like that? 

Their little encounter was unfortunately cut short when you announced that you had a dinner plan with your girls. “I’ll see you around, Dr. Reid.” You slid a piece of paper his way, and then left.

You gave him your phone number.

---

It was safe to say that you visited this particular library almost at any given chance. You discovered it by accident many moons ago when you finished your work. Now, you were on a first name basis with the librarians. As a regular visitor, you’ve had your fair share of interesting stories of other visitors. Then there was him. It was impossible not to notice him, especially when he always occupied the same corner of the library whenever he visited. Not to mention the stack of books, and many many notes  on the table. There were at least 10 or 15 books on the table. Was it even possible for someone to read that many books in one sitting?

After many occasions glancing his way like a creep, you finally found the courage to approach him. You even got the chance to learn his name. Dr. Spencer Reid. What a unique name — it suited him. Aside from intelligence, you wouldn’t deny the fact that he was also easy on the eye.

There was something about Reid that made you want to stay longer in the library, but alas, you already had a plan. You had this monthly dinner with your girlfriends, where every month one of you would take turns to host the dinner at that person’s place. This month was your turn, so you needed to make sure everything was set and ready.

On your way home, you thought about how you easily gave Reid your phone number. You normally wouldn’t do that with a stranger. A male stranger to be precise. However, your gut told you that Reid wasn’t like any other men. He chose to spend his spare time reading in the library. How many men did you know who did that? Nobody. It was also probably due to the fact that he was a federal agent. The point was it wasn’t an everyday thing that you didn’t have your guards up around a stranger. Again, a male stranger.

By the time you arrived at your apartment, Reid still hadn’t texted you. Your brain came to two possibilities; he wasn’t interested in you or he already had a partner. You cringed at the thought of you openly hitting on a man who might already be in a relationship. Well, in case he didn’t text you, you’d just have to avoid that particular spot he was always on for the foreseeable future. The library was pretty big, so it shouldn’t be difficult to do that. 

A moment later, your friends started coming into your place. You cherished time like this; catching up with the girls over greasy food and wine. A cute stranger you occasionally saw in the library was long forgotten.

By the time you were getting ready for bed, you heard your phone buzzing — notifying you of a new text. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears when you noticed it was a text from an unknown number. Surely he wouldn’t text this late, right? You unlocked your phone to read the text.

Unknown Number [11:18 PM]: Hi. This is Spencer Reid. I thought about texting you sooner, but you mentioned that you’re having a girl’s night and I don’t know how long it’ll normally take for you. I once babysat my colleague’s son so she could have a girl’s night with the other female colleagues — they practically went home the next day. My point is, I don’t want to interrupt your time with your friends. Anyway, I hope you had a fun night.

You blinked, then reread the text a few times. You found the entire situation funny. Not long ago, you convinced yourself that he wasn’t interested, and practically planned the best way to avoid him in the library. Then here he was. Explaining his train of thought on why he hadn’t texted sooner. Was this how he treated all the women who gave their numbers to him? This had to be too good to be true. You responded to him anyway.

You [11:23 PM]: How thoughtful of you, Dr. Reid. In fact, I just finished cleaning up my place like half an hour ago. Now, I’m getting ready for bed. Oh, I also had fun with my girls.

You didn’t have to wait long to get a response from him.

Reid [11:24 PM]: I’m glad you had fun. You should have that rest. Good night.

---

There wasn’t much text exchanged between the two of you since that night. You both only texted when either of you had the time to do it. On his part, he mostly sent you random facts about any states he traveled to when he was on cases. It was like a subtle way to tell you his whereabouts, if you were being honest.

However, since you started working on the night shift, you were usually still asleep when he texted. You’d reply way later, and he was most likely deep in the case files. The cherry on top was you work on the weekend this time around, so even when he was back in town, you couldn’t casually go to the library to see him since it was in the opposite direction from the hospital you worked at.

Between his constant traveling and your long-hour shift, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see him again. It’s been a month and a half since you last saw him. 

One Friday evening, when you were getting ready to go to work, you received an unexpected text from him.

Reid [5:34 PM]: What about we grab a light meal before your shift tomorrow? We can go somewhere close to the hospital so you won’t be late. You [5:35 PM]: Are you asking me on a date, Doc? Reid [5:36 PM]: Um, yes? I mean, if you want it to be. You [5:38 PM]: It’s a date then. I know a good coffee shop that also has delicious sandwiches close to the hospital. I’ll send you the details.

Honestly, you didn’t expect him to ask you on a date. Well, at least not that fast. But you wouldn’t complain anyway. You got yourself a date with a hot Doctor.

You exchanged a few texts while you were on your way to the hospital. He informed you that he just wrapped up a case in Miami, but the team decided to stay there one more night, so he’d be back first thing in the morning. He never really told you about the cases he worked on, that was understandable — mostly only informed you where he was and when he was coming back.

In return, you told him about your day; things that you were most excited about, or something you wanted to try to avoid doing. For example, you told him that tonight you’d help setting up the stuff for the treasure hunt event. Although you wouldn’t witness the event in person, since it’d be tomorrow during the day shift, you still got to do the fun part; hiding all the treasures. You texted some more until you told Spencer that your shift was about to start.

---

Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall one last time; 2:38 PM. You’ve instructed him to meet you at the coffee shop at 4:00 PM. If he headed there now, it’d take approximately an hour and 7 minutes. He definitely wouldn’t be late, and still gave him a reasonable time to be early. He smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on his sweater vest before heading out.

On his way to the coffee shop, he’d unconsciously kept running his palms on his sweater vest, trying to fix his hair, or gripping the strap of his bag a little too tight. He wasn’t anxious for the date per se, but the fact that it’d be his first date after prison. He was still in the process of adjusting to his post prison life, obviously didn’t expect to go on a date this soon. He wasn’t even sure what had gotten into himself when he asked you out.

He could see the sign of the coffee shop. When he stepped inside, he spotted you immediately. Sitting at one of the tables, jotting down something on the same notebook, he believed it to be the same one you brought to the library the first time he saw you. He slowly approached you, then softly called your name so he wouldn’t startle you.

You looked up when you heard his voice, and instantly beamed at the sight of him. “Reid! You made it.”

As Spencer sat on the chair across from you, he heard you chuckling. “What? Is there something funny?”

“Are you always this formal?” You vaguely gestured at his general direction. “I feel underdressed in my plain t-shirt and scrub pants.”

He could feel the warmth on his cheeks. “I don’t really own casual outfits. Besides, you’re about to go to work after this. It’s completely understandable that you’re wearing scrubs.” 

“I’m teasing you, Doctor. The sweater vest looks good on you.” You threw a playful wink at him. “You should order something.”

Spencer went back to the table with his order. Both of you enjoyed your meals while talking about various topics. You told him about when the night shift nurses went shopping for the treasure hunt event, the upcoming pottery class that you’d attend on your next day off, and finally got the chance to tell him in detail about the girl’s night at your place. In return, he told you about the funny stories when his team went out to the bar the other day, what kind of topics he’d probably teach for his next classes and his attempt to clean his bookshelf which ended up with him mostly reading than actually doing the cleaning.

It was refreshing to talk to someone outside of the team, who didn’t fully understand the horror he faced almost every day. For a brief moment, he wasn’t BAU’s resident genius, but was simply a man in his late 30s having a normal conversation with someone he found attractive, you. In addition to that, he surprisingly enjoyed it. He liked listening to your stories, discovering shared interests, or challenging him to do something outside of his routine.

Contrary to his team’s belief, Spencer did go on dates every now and then. Well, maybe not as frequent as Morgan used to. He just hasn’t found someone that really piqued his interest, or lucky enough to go on more dates with the same woman to eventually make the relationship official. But it was different with you. He adored how expressive you were — your expressions changed according to the stories you shared. When you talked about something that made you excited, then your whole face lit up; you’d smile from ear to ear, and your eyes sparked with so much joy. When you talked about the sad puppy story you read online, however, the light in your eyes dimmed, and your voice was shaky. He had to restrain himself from reaching out for your hand to comfort you.

He didn’t know how long they’ve sat in this coffee shop, but one thing he knew for sure was he already planned on how to ask you for a second date and where to take you — if you agreed, of course.

The two of you were surprised when the alarm on your phone went off. “Oops. I guess the date is unfortunately over.”

“Did you set an alarm for the date?” He was amused by what just happened.

“Yeah. In case we lost track of time. I still need to go to work after all.”

“Are you walking to the hospital?” You looked confused with the question, but nodded as an answer. “Okay. I’ll walk with you there.”

“Are you sure?” He only smiled at you, then stood up.

It was a short 15-minute walk to the hospital, yet it was filled with another conversation. Mostly him listening to your complaint about how this was going to be another long shift. But Spencer knew there was a lack of annoyance in your words. You loved your job, just like he did his.

The two of you eventually reached the hospital. You turned to face him. There was a brief awkward silence there.

“Thank you, Reid. I had fun today. Definitely a great way to start my shift.”

“I had fun too.” You were about to bid farewell when he called your name. “I’d like to do this again sometime. Preferably soon. With you, of course.”

You didn’t even bother to hide the smile on your face. “Well, between the two of us, your work schedule is more unpredictable. Just let me know when you’re free from catching the bad guy, and I’ll let you know when my shift changes.”

He grinned at your answer. “Right. I’ll definitely do that.”

You started walking backward while waving at him. “Bye Reid! See you around.”

That grin on his face stayed in place as he also waved at you. You eventually turned around and ran inside. Spencer couldn’t wait for that second date.

[gentlemanjuniper]

If I could inject just a little positivity to the news...

Season 2 has a lot of filler and stretches out a pretty simple mystery to six episodes. That's the appeal to some, I get it. But tightness and focus was not its strong suit. I remember feeling like it wasted a ton of time on side characters and it's possible shaving the story down to 90 minutes will skim things down to its most essential beats and be stronger for it. Basically, S2 got a lot of time given to it, and this is obviously my personal opinion but I don't think it used all of it well. I think S2 itself could have been half the length simply by employing more efficient storytelling and we'd not mourn too much.

A lot of S2's weaker plotlines feel built around people that Neil wanted to work with again, with so many recurring actors (I'm thinking of the zombies specifically, when that minisode could have easily been tighter without them). A lot of s2 to me feels like Neil just making work for the people he likes and wants to work with and a movie has to be more accountable to things like that.

Lots of entire fandoms exist around single movies. 90 minutes is not nothing. It's enough for many, many films to tell a complete story with cute character interactions and satisfying emotional arcs, especially when A&C are the only real significant connecting threads between both seasons thus far.

I don't think there are as many loose threads that absolutely need resolving as people may be thinking. Would I like to know why Aziraphale did the '40s apology dance? Would I like to see his bookshop gun? Sure. Are either of those necessarily essential to closing out the story? I don't think so. Really, what needs resolving is the second coming and, directly connected to that, Aziraphale and Crowley's rift. To me, not knowing the story obviously, that seems super reasonable to do in 90 minutes?

I don't think anyone involved in the final season can possibly be blind to the appeal of the show being Aziraphale and Crowley over anything else. That's certainly the reason why their roles were expanded to begin with from the book and why the second season was, nominally, all about them. They also now have to pay MS and DT for appearing in a movie rather than an ensemble show, there's no way they won't be front and center. Amazon wants a show that will make money and market itself; there's a reason why all the promo material for S2 was of Crowley and Aziraphale, because people engage with that stuff, reblog it, make art that promotes the show, etc. It makes no artistic or financial sense to make a movie that sidelines them.

GO is at its best when it has Terry's voice most strongly in it. That's why to me, S2 was a weaker, more meandering season overall (that, and I think the minisodes, while fun, just make the season feel comprised of different voices not always working in tandem towards a common goal). If I was a writer hired to condense a season into a film, and one of the authors had been rightfully disgraced, I would go out of my way to ensure the clearly Terry stuff is most significantly emphasized. It's telling to me that the Pratchett estate is producing and it's possible that the end result will result in more Terry, less Neil.

Think of it this way: everything we've gotten after S1 has always been extra. Imagine telling a fan of the book in the 90s that not only will you get a six episode adaptation, you also get a totally new second season, AND a movie?

Basically: I know this is disappointing but I think a lot of the pleasure of the Good Omens fandom was ALWAYS people picking up on and expanding on details, and y'all managed to do that just fine when A&C were only ensemble members in S1. You can and will do that with a movie too. And this solution both a) ensures first and foremost that Neil won't be involved or the allegations swept under the rug, and b) gives an opportunity for the heart of the story to be emphasized with greater focus, clarity and less filler.

Will we lose good stuff? Probably. But it's also possible we will get a tighter, more condensed, focused version of the best bits, the Terry Pratchett-est bits. I can easily see a 90 minute movie that, knowing they HAVE to focus on the important stuff now, is more Crowley and Aziraphale centric than ever.

[velarisdusk]

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Cassian x Reader

Day 2: Friends / Family @sjmxreaderweek summary: Keeping a secret in a house full of nosy friends was a losing game. You and Cassian thought you were careful—but after one too many slip-ups, it's clear: the jig is up. word count: 3.1k content: [ explicit language, implied sexual content, explicit humor, alcohol ] author's note: a nice cute fun lil fic inspired by the chandler and monica friends episode :) yes, i was in the middle of a series rewatch (showing it to the bf for the first time) when i was writing this one lol

You and Cassian hadn’t meant to keep it a secret. At least, not at first.

What had started as a fleeting moment—one night of unspoken tension, one quiet pull from Cassian, a simple kiss that should’ve meant nothing—soon spiraled into something more. Something that felt like more than a stolen touch or a glance across the training ring. It was sneaking under the table at dinner, brushing your fingers against his when no one was looking, the soft pressure of his knee against yours when you stood side by side. A pattern that was hard to ignore, harder to explain.

And yet, here you were, caught in the throes of it. The truth of it settled in like a weight you couldn’t shift, each day bringing more pressure. This was Cassian. These were your friends—your family. And somehow, the idea of them knowing—of everyone knowing—before you and Cassian even had the chance to understand what this was, felt suffocating.

So, an unspoken pact was formed: keep it quiet. For now.

The problem, of course, was Cassian.

He thought he was subtle. He thought no one noticed when he gravitated toward you at every dinner, even when it meant hauling a chair across the room. He thought the touches were harmless: a hand lingering on your back, fingers brushing yours as he passed you a drink, all innocent enough. And when he tried to play it off with weak excuses, you could hardly keep a straight face.

“I just happened to be heading out, too,” he’d said to Rhys one evening, despite the fact that he’d just ordered another drink. You barely covered your snort.

To your credit, you were trying to keep things under wraps. You didn’t let your gaze linger too long, didn’t let yourself react when his knee pressed against yours under the dining table. But Cassian made it so difficult. He was all big, stupid grins when you walked into a room, and lingering fingers when he handed you anything.

So you kept sneaking around, hoping no one saw through it, pretending to be careful, while you and Cassian—two grown adults—acted like youths trying to hide a crush.

And for a while, at least, you were sure no one knew.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . F . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

At first, it was nothing more than an inkling—a soft, nagging feeling that hovered just under the surface. Maybe it was the way Cassian’s gaze lingered a little longer than necessary on you, or the way your lips barely curved in response to his words. It was subtle, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention.

But then, it happened.

Over dinner, Cassian slipped.

“Hey, sweetheart, could you pass the—” He froze mid-sentence.

You froze too.

For a split second, the table fell silent. Just long enough for Feyre’s eyes to flick upward, catching the shift in your expression. The way Cassian hastily shoved a forkful of food into his mouth, as if trying to swallow the evidence of his slip-up.

No one else noticed. Rhys was too caught up in his argument with Amren, and Azriel was lost in Mor’s latest joke.

But Feyre noticed.

And once she did, it was like a door opened.

She noticed the way Cassian always seemed to hover near you, the way you both made excuses to leave at the same time, the way your hands brushed ever so casually—too casually—when you thought no one was looking. You and Cassian were terrible at this.

And Feyre? Feyre was absolutely going to have fun with it.

“You know,” she began one evening, voice light, almost teasing, “I think it’s funny how some people swear they don’t do pet names, but then, out of nowhere, they slip up.”

From across the room, you nearly choked on your wine. Cassian visibly tensed, shifting uncomfortably as he buried his hands in his lap.

“Oh?” Rhys drawled, raising an eyebrow. “And here I thought you liked my pet names for you, Feyre.”

Feyre hummed, her eyes flicking toward you and Cassian. “Oh, I don’t mind them. But some people…” She let the silence stretch, just long enough to make it feel pointed. “Some people can’t help but use them.”

Rhys leaned back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Interesting. I had the impression you preferred something more… simple.”

Feyre arched a brow. “Simple?”

His grin widened. “Well, you’ve never complained about darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes, but her smile was too genuine to be dismissive. “That’s different.”

Rhys laughed. “Is it?”

Feyre shot him a pointed look. “You used up your one pet name already.”

Rhys clutched his chest in mock offense. “And here I was, considering my heart or my star.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. “Try it.”

Cassian, his face flushed, immediately turned away. You fought to keep your expression neutral, but the heat of Feyre’s eyes on you was impossible to ignore. She knew.

And she was loving every second of it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . A . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It started with Azriel’s smirks.

He wasn’t a male known for his smiles, but there were moments—fleeting, almost imperceptible—that his lips would twitch upward, the smallest glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes.

At first, Feyre thought she was imagining it. But then, the comments began.

“You seem well-rested, Cassian,” Azriel remarked one morning, his voice deceptively casual as he sipped his coffee.

Cassian, who hadn’t slept in weeks, nearly knocked over his plate. “What?”

Azriel didn’t even look up from his paper. “Nothing.”

Feyre watched from across the room, barely holding back her laughter.

It kept happening—these little comments that would’ve been brushed off by anyone else, but Feyre knew.

Like the time you and Cassian showed up separately to the River House, late, only to have Azriel quip, “Funny how you two always seem to arrive at the same time after a night out, even though you’re coming from different places.”

Cassian tensed. You shot him a warning look. Feyre couldn’t contain her grin.

Or when Azriel casually mentioned how hard it must be to keep a secret in a house full of curious minds. His voice was slow, deliberate, each word pointed enough to cut.

He never outright confronted you, though. He didn’t need to.

Because Azriel thought he was the only one who knew.

And that—that��was the most entertaining part.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . M . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was never supposed to happen like this.

You and Cassian had been so careful—so careful. But now, here you were, backed up against the wall of his room at the House of Wind, his lips hot and demanding against yours, his hands gripping your waist as if he never intended to let go—

And then the door swung open.

“What in the Mother’s name—”

Cassian whipped away from you so fast, he nearly stumbled. You gasped, scrambling to straighten your clothes, but it was far too late. Mor stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in shock, then delight.

Her hand shot out, pointing accusingly at Cassian. Then at you. Then back at Cassian.

“Are you—BY THE CAULDRON.”

“Mor—”

“Oh, wow!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, her other hand still outstretched like she was physically trying to process what she was seeing. “How long has this been going on?!”

Cassian groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Can you not yell?”

“Can you not—whatever the hell I just walked in on?!” Mor’s voice climbed an octave. 

You buried your face in your hands, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. This is it. This is how I die.

Mor shrieked in delight, practically bouncing in place. “I knew it. I knew something was off with you two lately!” She narrowed her eyes at you. “Wait—does anyone else know?”

You hesitated. “Uh—”

“NO WAY,” Mor gasped, clutching her chest. “I cannot believe I’m the first to find out.” She beamed like she’d just won the lottery. “I won’t tell, I promise. But gods, this is amazing.”

She took one last look at the two of you—still flushed, still breathless—then spun on her heel. With a wink and a whirlwind exit, she left the room, her smile wide enough to break.

Cassian dropped his head onto your shoulder, letting out a long groan. “We’re screwed.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . F.A. . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Feyre smoothed her hand over the map of Velaris spread across the table, her fingers tracing the lines of the Sidra. “We should move the patrols closer to the Sidra in the evenings. There’s been more movement near the docks lately.”

Azriel barely glanced up from the reports he was sifting through. “Already reassigned four to cover it.”

A soft laugh escaped Feyre, her lips curling at the edges. She shook her head, as if to herself. “Of course you did.” Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, she added, “You ever notice how Cassian’s been in a suspiciously good mood lately?”

Azriel’s fingers faltered for just a second before he turned the page, his expression a mask of indifference. “Have I?”

Feyre hummed absently, her eyes never leaving the map as she traced the Sidra again. “Mmm. And (y/n)’s been spending an awful lot of late nights at the House of Wind. Odd, don’t you think?”

For the first time, Azriel’s gaze lifted from the papers, his eyes narrowing in the faintest flicker of curiosity. “Odd?”

She shrugged, her tone light and breezy, as if it were nothing more than idle chatter. “Well, unless she’s taken up sparring… but I doubt that’s it.”

Azriel studied her for a beat longer, then turned the page with deliberate slowness, as if the words between them hadn’t lingered at all. His gaze stayed fixed on the report, his voice a touch more clipped. “How did you figure it out?”

Feyre’s lips quirked into a smug smile, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I heard him call her ‘sweetheart.’” She let the word hang between them like a well-aimed dart, watching for any shift in his expression.

Azriel didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned the page as if the word had barely registered, his cool composure unshaken. Only after a long pause did he finally exhale through his nose, his voice dry. “They really let that slip?”

She shrugged, feigning innocence, though the edge in her gaze was anything but. “How did you figure it out?”

Azriel gave a low, quiet chuckle, meeting her eyes with a knowing look. “I’m the spymaster.”

Feyre rolled her eyes, her smirk widening. “Right.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . R . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rhysand hadn’t been looking for anything in particular that morning—just enjoying the rare silence before the house stirred. But as he rounded a corner, a familiar figure slipped out of a room that wasn’t his own.

Not his usual early-morning “training run.”

Cassian moved too quickly, his steps a fraction too sharp, his eyes darting like he was trying to slip past unnoticed. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and there was the faintest flush still clinging to his skin.

Rhys leaned lazily against the wall, one brow lifting as a slow smirk curved his lips. “Is there a reason you’re sneaking out of (y/n)’s room at this hour, Cassian?”

Cassian froze for the briefest second before schooling his face into something passably neutral. “I was just—checking on her.”

Rhys hummed, his smirk widening. “At this hour? Interesting.”

Cassian shrugged, all false nonchalance, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “People need to talk in private sometimes.”

Rhys pushed off the wall, taking an easy step forward, letting the silence stretch. The faint scent of you still clung to Cassian’s clothes, subtle but unmistakable. And Rhys could practically hear the frantic calculations going on in his brother’s head, searching for a way out of this.

“Mm,” Rhys mused, tilting his head, “you do realize I can smell both of you on each other, right?”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his face darkening a shade—not quite embarrassment, not quite irritation, but something in between.

Rhys’s grin turned downright wicked. “Relax. I’m not going to tell anyone. I was just curious.”

Cassian shot him a look that could have melted steel. Silence. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He was clearly at a loss for any more excuses, but Rhys wasn’t finished.

“Though, I have to say…” He tapped a finger against his chin, as if deep in thought. “Mor’s going to find out sooner or later. She’s like a bloodhound with these things.” He let the words settle before adding, “Actually, I’d bet she already knows.”

Cassian exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t even start, Rhys.”

Rhys chuckled, watching as Cassian shot him one last glare before stalking down the hall, shoulders tight, as if trying to shake off the conversation.

Rhys waited until he was gone before shaking his head to himself, still grinning. As if Mor didn’t already know. She always did.

And as if his cousin hadn’t already brought it up over their last bottle of wine.

He’d be sure to bring this up during their next.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . A . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The dining table was crowded, warm with good food and flowing wine. Conversation wove together in overlapping threads, laughter spilling easily between hands of cards. Between you, Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre, a game was already well underway.

It had been going fine—until Cassian leaned over your shoulder to peek at your hand, his fingers settling at your waist, thumb tracing a slow, absentminded path against your side.

Harmless. Thoughtless. Until it wasn’t.

The realization hit him like a slap. His hand jerked away as if he’d touched an open flame. The same thought must have struck you at the same time, because your laugh came too loud, too forced, the kind that begged to smooth over something unspoken.

A pause stretched. Rhys lifted a brow. Feyre set her cards down, watching with quiet amusement.

You cleared your throat. “Wow. Would you look at that.” A vague gesture toward the cards. “Cassian, you can’t just hover over my shoulder like that. That’s cheating.”

He blinked, slower this time. “What?”

Eyes widening a fraction, you willed him to keep up. “You looked at my cards. Totally unfair. We should restart.”

A beat passed before he nodded. “Right. Yeah. My bad. I just—uh—I thought I saw a smudge. Thought maybe it was marked.”

Feyre snorted. “Marked?”

“Yeah!” You latched onto the excuse. “You know how it is—sometimes people scratch the cards on purpose, and that would ruin the integrity of the game, so…he was just checking.”

Rhys hummed, clearly unconvinced. “And that required putting a hand on your waist?”

Your mouth opened. No words came out.

Cassian cleared his throat. “It was, uh…a reflex.”

You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Reflex.”

Mor, unimpressed, gave a slow blink. “Reflex.”

Cassian exhaled sharply. “It’s a battle thing.”

“A battle thing?” Her brow furrowed.

You doubled down. “Yeah. Instinct. From training. Checking each other’s balance, making sure no one’s about to fall over.”

Rhys smirked. “Because that’s a real problem when sitting down.”

Cassian shot him a glare. “You don’t understand how deep it goes, Rhys.”

He swirled the liquor in his glass, tilting his head. “Oh, I think I do.”

The room stilled, the air thick with something unspoken. Then, unimpressed as ever, Amren set down her glass and deadpanned, “You two can stop pretending. We all know.”

Silence.

You went still. Cassian barely breathed beside you.

Then Rhys started laughing.

Forcing a smile, you gave one last feeble attempt. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian nodded, too fast. “Yeah. No clue.”

Amren gave a flat look. “Oh, please.”

Mor, who had been watching with mild amusement, suddenly stiffened. “…Wait.” Her head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing at Amren. “What do you mean we all know?”

A slow, put-upon sigh. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Mor blinked. “You knew?”

“Obviously.” Amren took another sip from her goblet, utterly unimpressed.

A moment of stillness. Then Mor’s expression twisted in pure offense. “But—I was the first to know!”

A quiet sound from Azriel—might’ve been a laugh. “Were you?”

“Of course I was!” Mor huffed, arms crossing. “I walked in on them, for fuck’s sake! That should’ve given me first place!”

Cassian groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Can we not bring that up?”

You muttered, “Please, let’s not.”

Rhys, grinning like this was the best entertainment he’d had in years, leaned in. “I don’t know, Cass. I think it’s an important detail. Adds to the drama.”

Cassian shot him a murderous look. “Shut up, Rhys.”

But Mor was still reeling, eyes darting between Amren, Feyre, and Az. “…So, how did you all find out?”

Feyre smirked. “Az figured it out first. I caught on about two months ago.”

Calm as ever, Azriel shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Mor turned on Cassian, scandalized. “I thought you two were being sneaky.”

“We were!” Cassian threw up his hands. “Apparently, just not sneaky enough!”

Rhys chuckled. “Well, to be fair, Cass, you do have a habit of sneaking out of rooms at dawn. It’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

Cassian muttered something under his breath about everyone minding their own damn business.

Mor, still trying to process the betrayal, shook her head. “Let me get this straight—I had the deep misfortune of walking in while he was balls-deep, and yet somehow everyone else figured it out before me?”

Rhys smirked. “Not everyone. I only found out because you told me.”

Cassian’s head whipped toward Rhys just as yours snapped toward his.

Utter betrayal. “You said he caught you sneaking out, not that she told him!”

Rhys stretched back in his seat, his grin widening. “This is even better than I expected.”

Feyre turned on him, brows raised. “Wait—you knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

Rhys’s smirk didn’t waver. “You didn’t tell me either, Feyre darling.”

A scoff. “Because I thought I was the only one who knew!”

Amren, officially done, rose from her seat. “Are we going to spend the next hour debating who the reigning authority on court gossip is?”

Mor scowled. “I am.”

Feyre raised a brow. “Are you?”

Azriel took another sip of his drink, offering nothing.

Cassian leaned in close, voice low. “Maybe if we just sit here quietly, they’ll forget we exist.”

You sighed. “Unlikely.”