#almost tied with 1st place

[lemondropletters]

@nobody33333333 oh gosh i- T-T that was so awesome!! bro the reynie angst was just what I needed 😭 you have filled a part of the hole in my heart ajdhab I absolutely loved how you described what reynie was thinking in that scene (and curtains reaction to it).

first off I loved how you explained the whisperer and how it needed a emotional connection point so that the messengers can trust the machine and in turn be under curtains control,,,I’m not sure if I somehow completely missed that in the show but either way reading your explanation finally made it click in my brain it was just really well done!

“And it felt very good to say it. Bleak House had been a delightful book, and there was something about the way the Whisperer asked Reynie the question that made him feel appreciated and validated, though he couldn’t really explain why.”

crying he is so precious 😭

curtain every time he hears something slightly similar to his brother reminds me of that one meme like, “my brother used to call me that.” “that’s because it’s yoUR NAME??” (I know in this case reynie is really similar to Benedict so it makes sense why curtain would think that way but It’s still funny to me lol)

“The comfort of finally knowing he wasn’t alone was wonderful. Reynie wanted it, more than anything…if he needed to remain in Dr. Curtain’s inner circle, then, he should give in a little, right? Just enough to prove his loyalty. It would be good thing… right?”

reynie beloved ToT that whole section was angst but this part sucker punched me in the gut…me just being like “yes reynie it would be a good thing be happy you deserve it” ignoring that curtain is still trying to take control over the world ajdhshd (I am slowly realizing I would not survive in the whisperer 💀)

10/10 reynie angst would read again. I’m gonna say this is my favorite chapter and it can’t get better then this…but also I have been saying that for every single chapter so…yknow 🧍‍♂️

some extra parts that were my favorite (besides the whole thing)

Madge POV was something I really didn’t realize I wanted lol also number two kidnapping them from the zoo is very in character

I know this was in the show but it gets me every time when Milligan is just “everyone has the power to change” and Nicholas is just ‘yes great point absolutely right Milligan. one problem though. killer bird.’

the sticky and reynie/curtain and nicholas parallels 😭

curtain needs therapy x11 🫥

“Curtain and Sticky leaned as hard as they could into the Whisperer’s message. And it felt wonderful. To be wanted. And not just wanted, but home. Where they were valued. Where they belonged.”

also sticky. give him therapy too. (and reynie. actually everyone needs therapy what am I saying. )

garrison and curtain scene vs my anxiety 💀 not joking if you were to play this scene rn I would get really sick to my stomach. it’s always a good reminder for me that yeah curtain isn’t really a good person </3 I wasn’t sure if it was gonna effect me the same in writing but!! It did 😃 you did a great job at keeping the intensity of the scene while still adding some new thoughts.

(also I’m glad you added that garrison did in fact see the button. I was wondering how could they not notice Kate rolling over in the background or at the very least see the button so that was nice)

“She left to attend to her patient but made sure to leave her office door unlocked, just in case there was someone there who needed to make an exit. Garrison had brain swept enough people for one day.”

garrison 🙏

take a shot every time Benedict is anxious or is having a meltdown. he needs help 💀💕

“sometimes, it takes an outsider to let you see yourself.”

also another favorite line from the show 👌🏼

“With a little bit of judgment attached, don’t you think?” Curtain asked

man you can’t ask curtain nothing. he is so annoying 🥰

*slams fist* SQ wanting to go to art school 😭💕💕💕 bro just mail the letters don’t even ask

alrighht that’s almost everything…sorry I talked way to much 💀 I hope you didn’t mind. ^^ Wonderful chapter as always! and thank you again for the reynie angst you are the best 🙏😭 💕

Update: As promised, I have completed another S.O.S. chapter this week!

Click Here to Read the Chapter

Chapter 11 Summary: Curtain evaluates the potential of his new messengers while Milligan and his friends encounter a new visitor at their campsite. Meanwhile, Garrison finds a concerning abnormality in their data, and SQ thinks about his future.

Side Note: Yes, I have included the remaining quote from my WIP game! And I was able to get this out so fast because I already had most of it ready to go, might be a while before the next one (but I'm crazy inconsistent, so who knows). But in the meantime, I look forward to hearing your speculations on my Miss. Perumal and Dr. Garrison backstories.

Once again tagging everyone who originally expressed interest in the fic: @oflightningandstars @myfairkatiecat @mvshortcut @kneeslapworthy @serial-serializednovelreader @sophieswundergarten @itsgoghtime (as always: please let me know if this is annoying, because I know that while the tumblr-only people find it helpful, some people might not like or need the notification, especially when they have an AO3. And let me know if you aren't tagged, but want to be!).

Also @lemondropletters, you requested a Reynie angst fic. This chapter isn't entirely about Reynie, but I am especially excited to publish it, because there is a section of Reynie angst, which I hope you enjoy!

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[vibelladonna]

𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. 

I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!).  Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you. 

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.  

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew. 

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe. 

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down. 

— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics. 

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve. 

Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe. 

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now? 

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer. 

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe. 

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.” 

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.  

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”  

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”  

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”  

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.” 

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”  

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.  

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”  

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.  

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.  

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.  

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder. ��

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”  

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”  

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”  

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”  

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.  

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?  

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.  

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”  

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.  

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...  

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.  

But then there was Crowe.  

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.  

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.  

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.  

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up. 

Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?  

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.  

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.  

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.  

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.  

If you picked Crowe!

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.  

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.  

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.  

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.  

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:  

— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?  

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.  

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:  

— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!  

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.  

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.  

Sol.  

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.  

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”  

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”  

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”  

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.  

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”  

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”  

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”  

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”  

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.  

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you��d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.  

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.  

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.  

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.  

“Sorry, I was—”  

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”  

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.  

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.  

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”  

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.  

“Hey, you made it.”  

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.  

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.  

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”  

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.  

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.  

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”  

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.  

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”  

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”  

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”  

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”  

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”  

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.  

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.  

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.  

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”  

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”  

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.  

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.  

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”  

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”  

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.  

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.  

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”  

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.  

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.  

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”  

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”  

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”  

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”  

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.  

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.  

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.  

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.  

“Hey.”  

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.  

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.  

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”  

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.  

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.  

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.  

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.  

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.  

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”  

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.  

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.  

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.  

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.  

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”  

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”  

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”  

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”  

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.  

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”  

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.  

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.  

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”  

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.  

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”  

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”  

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a belief, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish. Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

If you picked Sol!

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.  

— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?  

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.  

— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!  

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.  

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.  

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.  

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”  

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”  

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.  

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”  

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.  

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”  

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”  

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.  

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.  

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.  

A few steps away stood Sol.  

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.  

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.  

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”  

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.  

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”  

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”  

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.  

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”  

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.  

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”  

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.  

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.  

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.  

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”  

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.  

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”  

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”  

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.  

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”  

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.  

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”  

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”  

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.  

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.  

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”  

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”  

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.  

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.  

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.  

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”  

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”  

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”  

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.  

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.  

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”  

“Open it,” you said with a grin.  

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.  

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.  

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”  

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”  

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.  

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.  

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.  

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”  

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.  

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”  

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.  

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.  

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”  

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”  

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.  

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”  

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.  

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.  

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.  

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air. 

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence. 

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood. 

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent. 

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you. 

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough. 

"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER ONE

01 : ARRIVAL

SERIES SUM. : (A Marauders Era Fix-It-Fic - featuring Reader as Walburga Black but better)

You wake up in pitch blackness and under excruciating pain. It isn't too long before you realise that you've been transported into the world of Harry Potter…and you've taken the place of a familiar villainess - Walburga Black. You need to escape this toxic family. The first order of business is Divorce AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY TAKING THE KIDS!

CHPT. SUM. : you take a familiar villainess' place, but it's all just a dream, right?

TAGS. : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; marauders fix-it-fic ; transferring into harry potter series (marauders era) au ; reader is a harry potter fan ; but not a JKR fan ; walburga black is no more ; or is she? ; pre-marauders era ; sirius black is an angry child ; regulus black is a precious baby ; big brother sirius being a little jealous ; mentions of child abuse (not explicit) ; orion black can eat dirt ; kreacher is a precious bean ; not canon compliant ; the journey begins! 

LENGTH : 6.3k

1st August 1971

Your eyes snap open to opaque darkness as a silent scream escapes you. Pain. Excruciating and tormenting pain rips your head in two and paralyses the rest of your body. You want to call for help, desperate for relief but words fail you. It’s as if someone had lacerated your throat and ran away with your mangled vocal cords. Overwhelmed by the pressure in your head, you quickly surrender and fall into the mouth of the hungry blackness encompassing you. 

The next time you wake up, you were almost blissfully unaware of the agony you previously awoke to if you weren’t sorely reminded by the lingering compression in your ears, an, almost, unbearable pounding ache in your skull, and the paralysis of your limbs. Your shaky breaths sound amplified in your ringing ears as you slowly regain control of your desensitised appendages but the stabbing sensation against your skull persists. It doesn’t appear to want to dull out unlike most continuous pains. In a desperate effort to mute the throbbing, you curl up into the foetal position and focus on your breathing, your hands clutching at the temporal and parietal areas of your head. After a while, there’s some relief. Sweet relief.

The darkness remains as obscure and daunting as you had first awoken to, a dead, unfeeling space — like a black hole. But it can’t be that. It can’t be a black hole. You hope it isn’t, at least. There has to be a way out of here. 

With great effort and a groan of pain, you get onto your hands and knees, suffering through agonising aches as you feel about the space around you. All the objects you come into contact with are insignificant, too ordinary for your brain to comprehend and speculate over — though the unrelenting throbbing in your skull may be of probable cause to your lack of analysis — it came with one reassuring thought however, their existence was evidence enough that this wasn’t a black hole…

What poor thoughts. 

You’ve never been so vapid. The thoughts swirling in your head were so lacking in cognition and inference that you instinctually shook your head in disappointment. A black hole? Impossible! —Unless you were launched into space in between the meeting with your investors and your journey home. Were you drugged? Taken hostage? If you were then why weren’t your limbs tied up? Eventually, your trembling hands find a wall, a small success that you quickly take advantage of, tracing the perimeter of the boxy room, hoping to find a doorway or vent, anything that could lead you to freedom. You probably look pathetic crawling around but there weren’t any traces of light, even a locked box was more illuminated than this. 

Your rambling thoughts continue, a distraction from the throbbing in your skull, until you feel it. A break in the wall, the border to a door. You didn’t waste any time and ignored all pains to stand and feel out the space for the doorknob, leaning your weight against the wooden entrance to alleviate your weak limbs. Disoriented and brainless — were you terribly hungover or something? More speculations, more unanswered questions but finally a release to freedom! The door relented and gave way as you finally found its handle, pushing down with your weight and tumbling towards freedom. 

The light burned your eyes and made you tear up but the relief of liberty was soothing. The throbbing, stabbing pains in your skull were now replaced by a reeling dizziness and it throws you off balance. But your hand catches the wall to steady you while your other clutches at your head; your disorientation grows and grows. It feels like you were tied to the end of a string and spun around as the length of the string gradually increases, giving the sensation of your mushy brain being stretched out. What in the world have you done to be put through this amount of distress and trauma? 

Curling your fingers into your head, you try to distract from the sickening dizziness with grounding pain and search for repose but are given none. Just as your nails begin to claw at your scalp as your other hand gropes at unfamiliar, drab wallpaper, a voice calls out to you. It’s small and confused, full of light and youth — it’s a child’s voice. 

“Mother?…”

Turning to the hesitant call, you lock eyes with steel grey pools. It’s a little boy. Maybe eight to nine years of age. He has beautiful short black hair, pale skin and angular features but childishly soft cheeks. His formal-like dress and perfect posture makes him look like a little prince. You don’t answer him right away; too distracted with your curious surveillance so he calls to you again with furrowed brows and the same title on his tongue, ‘mother’. 

He was talking to you. Strange…

“Did you just call me ‘mother’?” you ask, he doesn’t answer and you try not to wince, still very light-headed and muddled, “Why?”

“Because you are my mother,” the stare he affixes you with makes it obvious that he thinks you’re a crazy person. No, but he’s the crazy one!

“Are you okay mother?” another, almost identical looking boy walks up and stands beside the first. He, too, has beautiful black hair and pale skin but with much softer features so he must be younger than the first. They wear a similar attire —another little prince. Two little princes, brothers, that view you as their mother. 

But that’s impossible…

The younger of the two has an air of politeness surrounding him as he watches you with empathy swimming in his grey pools. In clear objection to the compassion his younger brother was willing to give you, the eldest child subtly squints at your crumpled and distressed figure. 

“I don’t have children…” your weak voice states but fails to continue, bewildered but confident in the fact although it breaks your heart. It just slipped out and now the two boys were stiff and tense from head to toe. 

Quickly shaking off his rigid limbs, the older brother scowls at you, “as much as we don’t want to be your children, we are!” his tone his biting as he speaks with a snarl, his pristine white teeth bared for defence and attack. With stomping footfalls, the duo run away, fleeing your sight in a blur of blacks, whites and greys. As soon as they’re gone, your dizziness hits you once more, like a boulder to the head, and sends you collapsing into the ground. 

Again, your world goes pitch black. 

2nd August 1971

There’s no spiralling darkness when you next wake up, nor is there an abundance of lamplight to make your eyes tear up, instead, beautiful golden rays of sunlight fall through the tall glass windows behind you. It was a much easier radiance to adjust to. You’re tucked away in bed, silky, comfortable and perfectly warm. Perhaps yesterday was just a dream, a very vivid dream— no, a nightmare. You let out a groan and squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how long it’s been, your thoughts of failure and self hatred over your own incompetence still haunts you. Curling up under the covers, you go through the breathing exercise your therapist imbued into you. 

Acknowledge it, accept it, let it go…

The phrase repeats in your head several times. The longer you rehearse it, the more your limbs unfurl until you’re flat on your back once more. 

…rigid.

Now that you think about it, was your bed always this…stiff?

Blinking in confusion, your eyes focus on the ceiling and widen. You don’t have a chandelier in your bedroom. Your eyes quickly jump down and examine the bed you lay in. This wasn’t your bed, no. Where were your Hedwig and Niffler plushies? Your all-white sheets were gone and replaced by all-black covers. It was then that you finally comprehend the cool sensation laying against your forehead, jolting your body forward, you let out a yelp of surprise as the small soaked towel falls from your brow. 

Your shocked shriek is almost matched by the bawling that accompanies it, drawing your eyes to a being you’ve only seen in movies. The small house-elf stares at you with shaking, blood-shot eyes and unaltered terror folded into his wrinkly expression. Endless apologies fall from his mouth, sincere and all underpinned by intense anxiety. He’s so real; his small, skeletal-like chest rapidly moving up and down due to his desperate pants. His three-dimensional existence quickly falls and kneels before you to commence grovelling, his shaking hands held together in prayer.  

“...Kreacher…” you gape at the house-elf, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat. In disbelief over the elf’s actuality, you reach out for him, awestruck and so dazed that you almost miss how he flinches away from your approaching touch. Apologetic, you retreat your hand and adjust yourself to sit against the headboard before addressing him, “I-I wasn’t going to hit you…”

“Kreacher is needing to be hit, mistress,” the contrite house-elf voices, twiddling his thumbs as he remains knelt down. 

Mistress…?

“Please stand, Kreacher,” you neglect to perceive his surprise in your use of the word ‘please’ as you’re still in awe of him yourself. With a subtle shake of your head, you do your best to push away your astonishment in search of answers, “and fetch me a mirror,” 

Kreacher promptly clicks his fingers and a handheld mirror appears before you. You try not to awe at the demonstration of magic — it's a simple spell in this world — and proceed to take it in your hesitant hands. Judging from what you have been able to gather, Kreacher calling you mistress and the two young boys addressing you as mother…Walburga Black should be the reflection staring back at you. However, you don’t see a black-haired, cold-eyed, pale-skinned woman, with a constant frowning wrinkle on her brow, you see yourself. You touch your face just to make sure you weren’t mistaken. It is you. 

Was this just a vivid dream? It feels so real… 

Mirror set aside, you look back at Kreacher and are astonished once more at seeing just how alive he is. His mannerisms were completely authentic and he was solid from all sides. There’s no mistaking that he’s right in front of you, tangible and no longer fictional. 

What wonders the mind can achieve when you fangirl and nerd out enough over something… But why aren’t you in the Lightening era timeline? And why are you in Walburga’s shoes? Now you’re the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black… The questions don’t stop, nor do the conjectures. Maybe it’s your mind trying to get over your life’s trauma vicariously through your favourite series and fandom… the notionmade some sense. You, not only, have one son but two. Should you feel elated or anxious?

As your thoughts continue, the apologies falling from Kreacher’s lips slowly get louder and louder until you snap out of your spaced-out state. Guilt quickly gathers in your stomach at the realisation that Kreacher had been vocally repentant this whole time and you haven’t yet acknowledged him in the slightest. 

“What are you apologising for, Kreacher?” you finally ask, putting a stop to his penitent speech. 

“Kreacher did not realise mistress had the sickness; Kreacher did not serve her well,” his tone was incredibly apologetic and there was no mistaking the panic in his eyes. 

“...It’s alright Kreacher,” the reassurance in your voice was something the house-elf was not used to and you almost smile at the explicit amazement in his eyes, “I did not know that I was ill, myself, so thank you for taking care of me when I fainted,” your warm smile confuses the house-elf but you continue. Even though this is a dream, you were going to do things right, “it was you who took care of me, correct?” 

His astonishment doesn’t leave his eyes as he nods, slack-jawed and meek, “yes..it was Kreacher, mistress,”

You nod in approval and spot a plate of food in your periphery, set neatly atop the bedside table, “thank you, Kreacher. You are dismissed,” the bashful but, still, misery-stricken house-elf goes to say something, glancing over at the bedside table but you promptly cut him off, “I will eat the food you prepared shortly, thank you, again,”

With a simple nod, Kreacher disappears in a blink and you slowly bring the plate of breakfast onto your lap. Eating in bed, you digest your situation and take in your surroundings. This was all a very realistic dream but a dream nonetheless. And it was a chance for you to, not only do right by the characters you adore but make peace with your past and present. This was a second chance. Even if it was only a dream. 

Just as you finish up your plate of breakfast, you also conclude your examination of the supposed ‘master bedroom’ and frown. The disapproval is clear in your furrowed brows, narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Whoever designed this room needs to be demoted…or fired. 

The Blacks were such a wealthy family, surely they had more saved up to be able to hire a decent interior designer. The colours blended into each other and no furniture, wallpaper or trinket could bring you any emotion other than despair. With that disappointing thought and a grimace at the, overall, sombre decor of the room, you turn to place your clean plate back on the nightstand when a rolled up piece of paper catches your eye. Innocuously folded and tucked to the left of where your breakfast plate once laid was a newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Hurriedly exchanging your plate and utensils for the paper, your anticipation rose to witness the infamous articles and its moving pictures. You almost couldn’t stop the schoolgirl giggle from escaping your smiling lips. Never before had you been so excited to read the paper. 

Unfolding the pages, you awe at the front cover before quickly skimming the rest of the folio. It’s the real thing and it’s so detailed…even for a dream. 

It was written in clear script on the top, right hand side of the front page. 2nd August 1971. There was no doubt in your mind now that you were just about to enter the Marauders era timeline. If you weren’t mistaken, this was the summer leading up to Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts, which meant that, as his mother — the notion was still abnormal to you but also incredibly heartwarming —, you had a duty to help him fetch his school supplies for Hogwarts. You would also have the honour of seeing him receive his own wand before helping him buy his uniform robes and other necessities. You would even help him pack his bags for Hogwarts, congratulate and celebrate his achievements with him, wish him a good day, support him unconditionally… everything a loving and present mother would do. And, of course, you would treat Regulus the same way. It makes your heart sing and butterflies flutter about in your stomach; you get to be a mother. 

—one moment… 

If the date is correct in the newspaper and you’re right in that Sirius would be attending Hogwarts in a month’s time, then why did he appear one to two years younger than what an eleven-year-old should look like?

Pondering over the question makes you grimace. It’s entirely possible that it could be Walburga and Orion’s doing, Sirius definitely has a defiant manner about him despite only being eleven years of age and it wouldn’t be abnormal to expect the Black couple to be callous towards their own sons, enough to, somehow, stunt their growth. With a click of your tongue and a roll of your eyes, you eagerly move on from the topic and observe the front page more closely only for your breath to stutter and catch in your throat. 

A moving picture of the harrowing dark mark being cast over a house plays in a loop before you. Reading the associated article, you feel your stomach turn in on itself. It was such a disgusting display.

“How cruel…” Your disgust morphs into sorrow as you read over the killings made within the specific house. It belonged to innocent muggleborns and their family members, both magic folk dubbed as blood traitors and their muggle family were massacred. It was clearly an attack meant to bring fear and terror to muggle borns and the pureblooded witches and wizards that dare protect them - all in the name of the dark lord and his bigoted agenda. 

What a load of bullshit.

Not stopping for long, you read interview quotes from blood purists showing their support over the act. Their only reason was that they feared losing their pureblood traditions entirely to muggleborns. The horrific, terroristic happenings all appear to follow after the election of a muggle born Minister of Magic (Nobby Leach), the induction of Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and then the introduction of Voldemort last year. It’s deplorable that that’s all it takes for blood purists to excuse such radical operations —it’s inhumane. 

“‘The Ministry continues to spare no effort’,” you read under your breath but frown despite the reassuring words, “I bet those Deatheaters get a real ego boost from that statement…” if you remember correctly, Voldemort was enlisting more Deatheaters as well as magical creatures. However, those who are seen as ‘inferior’ were made to suffer, namely Goblins and House-elves. It doesn’t sit well with you. 

The fact that the fantasy world around you — one that you’re an avid fan of — feels so incredibly real, despite it being a dream, suddenly looks very bleak makes your chest tighten. And you quickly find yourself agonising over the lives of many children across the country, both in the muggle and wizarding world, being filled with unhappiness and gloom purely because of the selfish and bigoted adults that are supposed to protect them. 

You click your tongue bitterly. Only a terf could write or imply something so tragic in a supposed children’s book…

Just as you set down the newspaper and lean back against the headboard, Kreacher materialises at your bedside and begins to clear away your plate and paper. You shoot him a smile of thanks that he has a mixed reaction to. Before disappearing, he observes your state once more, dull eyes searching for something. When he returns a moment later, he’s carries with him a slim vial filled with a red, almost-pinkish liquid that contained ascending bubbles. Carbonated? It looked like a normal drink — like a brightly dyed, flavoured tea or sports drink. 

With eyes of fascination, you carefully take the potion vial from Kreacher. You were about to take your first ever magical potion and you plan on savouring every moment of it, even the moments leading up to drinking it. Slowly turning the vial in your hand, you realise that the consistency of the liquid isn’t as light as water; it was a little thicker.

“It’s a healing potion mistress,” Kreacher explains at your bedside, hunched over with his features scrunched up into a permanent scowl, “for the hot fever, mistress,” you give him a small, grateful smile for the explanation. It’s been a while since someone has been proactive when it came to caring for your wellbeing; it made you feel better knowing that Kreacher was around to take care of your needs, disregarding that it was an obligation he couldn’t escape from. Being a successful woman in commerce didn’t mean you were successful in all aspects of life. You still needed to be cared for. This was a welcomed compassion you were going to take full advantage of. 

“Thank you Kreacher,” you swiftly uncork the vial and down the potion like a shot, not expecting it to taste so revolting, “Ugh! That’s horrid!” you cough and feel tears surface. This was supposed to be your dream so why did you come up with something so foul-tasting?! You’ve never tasted anything so disgusting! You can’t even begin to describe the flavour —it’s too foul for words! 

Shaken up by your amplified reaction, Kreacher begins to shake but explains that it’s how all healing potions tasted, “there are other potions with the baddest tastes mistress,” you try to shake away the repulsive flavour but have no such luck and turn to Kreacher with a plea. 

“Water? Please?” with a snap of his fingers, a cool glass of fresh, crisp water appears and you immediately reach out to drink it. The repulsive taste on your tongue dilutes the more you drink but it doesn’t fully lift off your taste buds. Even after drinking the entire tall glass of water, the awful taste of the healing potion lingered — you couldn’t even feel relieved from the feverish headache that left you. 

The healing potion had worked its purpose and you were up and about 12 Grimmauld Place, taking in its dismal but elegant interior, opulent decor and its many rooms. You didn’t know what to expect. It was evident how wealthy the Black Family was in their expensive tastes but that didn’t necessarily translate into aesthetic arrangements. When you watched the movies, it was understandable how dilapidated it was but, despite currently being lived-in, it still looked dull. All rooms appeared the same and began to blend into one another the more you moved around. You still awed at the realistic display of the place, however; it all felt so real, as if your surroundings breathed with life and every ornament, wall and structure had its own individual heartbeat. Just the thought made your heart race. This was once a purely fictional setting and now, your dream brought it to life and you were fully encapsulated - happily so. 

One room that held your attention far better than all other rooms of the house combined was the home library. It was majestic, regal and old — a charming space that you were eager to explore. Its many shelves were lined with an assortment of books, many containing magical knowledge such as light magic and dark magic, which was surprising when considering the Black family’s preference for dark magic. What wasn’t surprising was the amount of books detailing traditional wizard and witch rituals, dates, holidays and more. Purebloods and their need for the maintenance of customs and ceremonies, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. You expected there to be more books on dark magic but most were on the history of the wizarding world and its many traditions, some of which you had never seen or heard mention of in the Harry Potter book series, movies or games. 

Your mind was very creative and you were quite proud of yourself for it. 

Time passes you as the pages of many books are skimmed by your eyes. You have no idea how much time ticks by as you consume book after book, flicking through pages before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door succeeded by the entrance to the library being hurriedly pushed open. 

“Mother,” Regulus pants with softly flushed cheeks. His head of curls were a hint messier than the last time you met eyes with him, however, he was still dressed more formally than how a normal ten year old boy should be dressed. It was then, however, that you realised your greatest, influential role — a role that’s far more important than being the head of your company. You’re a mother now. A mother to two gorgeous and darling sons, who deserve all the love in the world. It made tears well up in your eyes. Your subconscious had realised your truest, purist desires and brought it to you in a dream through your beloved fictional characters, ”M-mother?” snapping out of your trance, you realise Regulus had been waiting for you to signal that it was okay for him to speak but hadn’t yet.

“Yes?” Your soft voice appears to catch him off-guard but he’s quick to recover and steel his features.

“I apologise for coming to you late, Mother,” he begins, remaining at the door with his shoulders straight and expression level despite the anxiety for his mistake clearly showing in his eyes. He’s still slightly panting but endeavours to explain himself quickly for your expediency. 

“It’s alright, darling, take your time,” you offer a kind smile that he doesn’t know how to respond to. And, instead of assuring him, you seem to have only made him more fearful. 

“I-I’m terribly sorry, Mother, it was entirely my mistake. It won’t happen again, I swear!” he pleads with tearful eyes and a quivering lip. His small voice raises in volume no matter how much he tries to control it and eventually has to stop talking altogether just so he could gather himself. 

“Regulus, you’ve done nothing wrong,” your words have such a profound effect on him that he stills, completely frozen in time from shock and confusion, “what were you going to say originally, darling?” ‘darling’… the endearment slips you so naturally and it doesn’t even bother you — this really was your heart’s truest desire. 

Regulus takes a few minutes to himself, trying to find his voice and swallowing to wet his gone-dry mouth in order to speak without his voice cracking, which would have an ill demonstration of the Black family’s standing, “I, once again, apologise for my lateness, mother. I did not realise you would be in the family library rather than your study today,” it’s clear he’s still quite flustered from his earlier frantic search for your wandering form as he was still faintly panting under his breath. You raise a gentle hand and, paired with your soft smile, you silently assure him to take his time once more. He appreciates the unusual consideration and leniency from his typically stringent mother, “as per usual, I am here to update you on the progress of my home studies. I’ve read through all the chapters you wanted me to read and had written notes appropriately, complete with summary paragraphs…”

You don’t speak as you observe the sweet boy before you, his shoulder pulled back and chin held squarely as if he was a soldier, a man of rigorous instruction rather than the innocent young boy he was supposed to be. As you stare with an unknown and unfamiliar look in your eyes, Regulus tenses up, slowly backing into the hallway once more. His mother is a woman of few words but would usually hum along in approval to his list of completed tasks — it was a trivial gesture of favour that he eagerly sought after, wanting nothing more than to seek your acceptance. Complete and utter silence could either be dangerous or harmless. The potential risk made the hairs on his arms raise. The poor boy didn’t know what to make of your bizarre mannerisms lately. His heart raced to new heights and his throat felt even more closed up than usual. 

Slowly, you walk up to him and kneel down, love and fondness clear in your gentle eyes. However, it was such a rare emotion for Regulus to see in his mother’s eyes that he tensed up more at the stare, no matter how affectionate and warm. 

It has to be a trap, somehow…   

Your gentle hand reaches up and cups his cherubic cheek, one of the few remaining demonstrations of his youth. Plumper, you need to fill in his cheeks, make them softer and more rounded; you’ll stop at nothing to get them to that state as soon as possible. With your thumb, you lovingly stroke his cheek and smile with all the love welling up in your chest. Your features are soft with the warmth and affection you wanted to convey beyond words. This is the first time Regulus has ever seen his mother look so kind. He’s never seen it before —it looks nice. His mother looks pretty now. He really hopes this isn’t a trap. 

Innate maternal love and instincts overwhelm you. And, after a moment, you take the plunge. You pull him into your arms and embrace his slim, short figure, pressing your face into his hair as you tuck his face into your shoulder. Finally, you have your own son, and you’re going to love him with all your heart. In your mind, you vow to all deities you would care for him like no other, even if in a dream. 

“A dream come true,” you say in a voice dripping with tears. Faintly, you hear Regulus ask for what you mean, muffled from how you have his face buried into your shoulder, “having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…” 

Regulus can’t believe his ears as a warmth spreads through his chest, rapid and, like a blossoming array of wild flowers, it’s accompanied with the purest happiness he’s ever felt in his short life so far. He doesn’t know what to say, speechless from your words, words that he’s never before heard from his mother. He’s wished so many times for such a scenario to come true that he can’t quite believe that it’s happening to him now. 

—BANG!

Sirius stands at the end of the hall, glaring ferociously at the scene happening before him, a bitter emotion consuming his small form at the words he hears and he promptly storms off. But you’re too quick with your lengthier strides and desire to reach him before he goes too far. Without a second thought, you hug the eldest brother to your chest too. You’ve pulled him as close to you as possibly could despite his protests and attempts at pushing you away. 

With a stern voice, you speak up against his thrashing form, “Sirius, do not get aggressive with me,”

“I don’t care!”

“You will care because you’ll end up hurting someone and or yourself one day, if you keep this up!”

Sirius is flooded by shock at your response and he freezes up. His mother never cared whether or not he or anyone else got hurt, so long as they succumbed to her ridiculous demands. He can’t recognise his own mother anymore. Taking full advantage of his paralysed state, your hold turns gentle and you begin to comb your fingers through his inky locks.

“Breathe...” you try to calm him down by gently petting the back of his hair down and occasionally running your nails along his scalp, “talk to me…what’s upset you?” looking up, you see Regulus a metre or two away with a curious look on his face, a mix of amazement, curiosity and caution. Sirius doesn’t respond so you gently prompt him, pulling away to meet his conflicted eyes, “darling?”

Sirius is stunned into silence and doesn’t know what to say, he’s in complete denial over what’s happening – this can’t be his mother, “did you hit your head or something?” he accuses in a snappy tone and you step back, a wave of realisation washing over you. Before this, Sirius and Regulus were pushed around by Walburga daily, abused and tortured in an attempt to conform to her ways. It breaks your heart but also fills you with determination. Even though this is just a dream, you will make the proper changes and treat them kindly. They deserve a loving mother, one who supports them and loves them unconditionally. As you part your lips to voice something, you feel an ominous presence enter the hallway. 

When you look up and over your shoulder, your eyes meet liquid mercury, swirling with anger and paired with the deepest frown. Orion Black approaches from behind you, his footsteps daunting and seeming to echo through the shaking walls of the hallway as he fixes Sirius with a cold glare. His own son, who’s only 11 years old.

“What is going on here?” Orion demands but completely ignores you when you try to explain. Your husband’s focus stubbornly remains on your son, the accusation and wrath in his eyes aggrandised. He continues to bark at Sirius, who looks at the floor in quiet shame and with bitten lips. You know he’s terrified but still tries to appear strong, knowing that if he cried out and showed weakness through pained anger in front of his parents, they would use it as ammunition to berate and abuse him further, “don’t you dare talk to your mother that way again, Sirius!”

Orion raises his wand to punish him but you hurriedly step in the way and tuck Sirius’ face into your stomach. Chin over your shoulder, you meet eyes with your husband andtry to keep from snarling at him lest your true intentions and change of heart come to light and raise red flags, “this is between me and Sirius, I will deal with his punishment myself,”

Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be fearful or relieved. That emotion is so foreign to him, especially when it comes to his mother and talks of punishment. Thankfully, Orion lets the situation go and nods curtly before walking back to his study with a huff, muttering about wasted time on his ‘useless son’ under his breath. 

“My punishment is to eat dinner in my room…” the brothers share a confused look, “usually, it’s to have no dinner and no breakfast…”

“Or worse…” Regulus’ words make them both shiver; a cold chill runs up their spines and inspires dark memories to surface. Un-welcomed, they shake their heads and banish the remembrance.  

Diverting the topic altogether, Sirius picks at his food, “what do you think happened to her?”

“Mother?” Regulus asks and receives a confirming nod, “I don’t know…Kreacher told me–” Sirius pulls a face at the friendship his brother has fostered with the elf, “that mother had a terrible fever yesterday and fainted after we saw her in the hallway,”

Sirius thinks for a moment and chews a little longer than usual, ruminating over the new information, “you think that’s what made her like that?”

Regulus shrugs his small shoulders, “that’s the only thing I could think of…” the youngest brother slowly begins to lose himself in thought, thinking back to when his mother embraced him tenderly and whispered such lovely, affirming words beside his ear. 

‘A dream come true… having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…’

“You like the change?” Sirius snaps his little brother out of his daydream and Regulus flushes in slight embarrassment, avoiding his older brother’s disapproving eyes. Or was that disappointment? Maybe something else?

“She’s much nicer now…”

“It won’t last forever,” Sirius says roughly, bitterness and disbelief evident in his voice as his brows furrow; he doesn’t want to believe that his mother, one of the two people responsible for hurting him and his little brother day in and day out, could have the capacity to change overnight, “you’ll see…”

Regulus doesn’t want to believe his brother but how could he deny such a pragmatic expectation? His older brother is right. It’s unrealistic for him to believe in such a miracle. Nevertheless, there was a troublesome ray of hope that warmed the depths of his chest and clenched around his beating heart with purpose. It was immature to be so optimistic but he can’t help hoping. 

And, he’d never admit it out loud but… Sirius was hopeful too.  

3rd August 1971

You’re astonished at how long this dream has stretched on for. You’ve been able to finish the previous day, fallen asleep beside your husband and rose the next day to have breakfast with your darling boys, served by Kreacher. And now, you’re happily immersing yourself in the home library once more. 

Amazed, you consume the contents of the book in your hand, you’ve never come across such information in the Harry Potter books, movies or games. It’s so novel! You feel bubbling excitement rise from deep within you, enchanted and equally awestruck from your imagination, even in sleep. You should be a fanfiction writer! 

“I can’t believe how detailed and long this dream is continuing on for…” you mutter to yourself, beginning to smile at your luck before you’re harshly interrupted.  

“This isn’t a dream you insufferable muggle!” a shrieking shrill scream echoes in your head and makes you wince. In a weak attempt at soothing the ache, you grasp at your temple with a hand. The throbbing discomfort the voice induces is equivalent to the same pain you experienced when you first woke up in that pitch black room, only, not as intense. The memory makes you wince even more and you wonder if the increase of pain was a type of phantom hurt brought on by your own thoughts.

“Wh-wha-?” you do your best to collect yourself but the wailing voice is unrelenting and perpetuates the pounding in your head. 

“To hell with that ritual! What. Happened?! This wasn’t supposed to be the result! Explain yourself, you filthy muggle woman! HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY PLACE!”

With staggering realisation, all the pieces click together in your head and you’re stunned into silence as the raging voice of the villainess woman continues to demand answers in your head. Her voice is piercing but is dulled out by your curiosity and rising triumph. 

“You’re saying this is real?...”

“Yes! You Filthy Muggle! Whatever you’ve done, reverse it now and allow me to return to my place!”

“...No,” your firm voice counters, a slow smirk gradually tugging at your lips. She goes silent, probably speechless at the audacity a ‘muggle’ has to disobey her demands, “I’m staying,” you threaten, “and I’m going to do right by your sons by giving them the life and mother they deserve—”

“You will do no such thing!” Walburga shouts once more in your head; this time, you don’t mind the throbbing pain it induces, “They are my sons and they—!”

“Not anymore bitch,” you grin deviously, “they’re my sons now,”  

NEXT. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) →

A/N : this is my attempt at a fix it fic inspired by one of my favourite genres in webtoons etc - reincarnation/isekai/time travel do-overs, wish me luck! i hope i do a good job! ALSO! I'd like to express a special thank you to my dearest friend @thebestofoneshots for being such a darling and taking time out of her day to beta-read this first chapter for me, she's been such a sweetheart and was the one who helped motivate me to finish the first chapter! i don't think i would have been able to post this first chapter without her. i love you so much my darling! please go and support her by reading her work, commenting and reblog her work too! she deserves all the love in the world! and she writes so beautifully too! you won't regret it!

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

SERIES TAGLIST OPEN

[tolerateit]

surprise songs so far

17th March - Tim Mcgraw

17th March - Mirrorball

18th March - State of Grace

18th March - This Is Me Trying

24th March - Our Song

24th March - Snow On The Beach

25th March - Cowboy Like Me (with Marcus Mumford)

25th March - White Horse

31st March - Sad Beautiful Tragic

31st March - Ours

1st April - Death By A Thousand Cuts

1st April - Clean

2nd April - Jump Then Fall

2nd April - The Lucky One

13th April - Speak Now

13th April - Treacherous

14th April - The Great War (with Aaron Dessner)

14th April - You're On Your Own, Kid

15th April - Mad Woman (with Aaron Dessner)

15th April - Mean

21st April - Wonderland

21st April - You're Not Sorry

22nd April - Today Was A Fairytale

22nd April - A Place In This World

23rd April - Begin Again

23rd April - Cold As You

28th April - The Other Side Of The Door

28th April - Coney Island

29th April - High Infidelity

29th April - Gorgeous

30th April - I Bet You Think About Me

30th April - How You Get The Girl

5th May - Sparks Fly

5th May - Teardrops On My Guitar

6th May - Out Of The Woods

6th May - Fifteen

7th May - Would've, Could've, Should've (with Aaron Dessner)

7th May - Mine

12th May - Gold Rush

12th May - Come Back...Be Here

13th May - Forever and Always

13th May - This Love

14th May - Hey Stephen

14th May - The Best Day

19th May - Should've Said No

19th May - Better Man

20th May - Question...?

20th May - Invisible

21st May - Red

21st May - I Think He Knows

26th May - Getaway Car (with Jack Antonoff)

26th May - Maroon

27th May - Holy Ground

27th May - False God

28th May - Clean

28th May - Welcome to New York

2nd June - I Wish You Would

2nd June - The Lakes

3rd June - You All Over Me (with Maren Morris)

3rd June - I Don't Wanna Live Forever

4th June - Hits Different

4th June - The Moment I Knew

9th June - Haunted

9th June - I Almost Do

10th June - All You Had To Do Was Stay

10th June - Breathe

16th June - Mr Perfectly Fine

16th June - The Last Time

17th June - Seven (with Aaron Dessner)

17th June - The Story Of Us

23rd June - Paper Rings

23rd June - If This Was A Movie

24th June - Dear John

24th June - Daylight

30th June - I'm Only Me When I'm With You

30th June - Evermore

1st July - I Miss You, I'm Sorry (with Gracie Abrams)

1st July - Ivy (with Aaron Dessner)

1st July - Call It What You Want

7th July - Never Grow Up

7th July - When Emma Falls In Love

8th July - Dorothea

8th July - Last Kiss

14th July - Picture To Burn

14th July - Timeless

15th July - Starlight

15th July - Back To December

22nd July - This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

22nd July - Everything Has Changed

23rd July - Message In A Bottle

23rd July - Tied Together With A Smile

28th July - Right Where You Left Me (with Aaron Dessner)

28th July - Castles Crumbling

29th July - Stay Stay Stay

29th July - All Of The Girls You Loved Before

3rd August - I Can See You

3rd August - Maroon

4th August - Our Song

4th August - You Are In Love

5th August - You're On Your Own Kid

5th August - Death By A Thousand Cuts

7th August - Exile

7th August - Dress

8th August - I Know Places

8th August - King Of My Heart

9th August - New Romantics

9th August - New Year's Day

[dead-dolphins]

Illicit Affairs: 1st Drabble

It’s been a long time coming, but here it is at last—the very first drabble of the cheating AU! Omg omg omg!!! XD Just a heads-up: I wrote this purely for fun, without a solid plot, just capturing the vibes of the AU. Don’t worry, there’s more to come! I hope to catch your attention and, well, enjoy! TW: Eren's fantasies and mentions of potential cheating.

Eren was always the first to arrive at the stables before dawn. As the morning light, indifferent to the season, began to spread over the meadows where the Jaeger and Arlert manors stood, his presence in that shared space came well before anyone else stirred.

It had been this way since he was a child, barely able to hold onto the saddle. He sought these quiet, uninterrupted moments to tend to his horse alone. The stable, the ride—they were his, his sanctuary, his refuge. In the early morning mist, he would steal away, feeling the power beneath him as his mount surged forward, the wind sharp against his face. And afterward, he’d return home, slipping into the warmth of a shower, letting the water wash away the grit and sweat before he made his way to the studio, where his hands sought a different kind of mastery—the mastery of art.

It wasn’t simply a matter of morning exercise—it was a ritual, a quiet preparation for the day ahead. In those moments, alone with his horse, he could feel the tension drain from him, a stillness settling in his bones before the storm of the day. Then the studio waited, with its demanding clients, always expecting more than he could give. And beyond that, the strained silence of home, where his wife’s rage simmered just beneath the surface, flaring up when the cold indifference could no longer be ignored—an indifference that perhaps, just perhaps had always been there. 

Thus, following his routine, Eren arose from the emptiness of his double bed, its crisp linens untouched by another’s warmth.  Dressed in his riding gear and holding his whip, he approached the stable, eager for the thrill of the ride with Pearl, his black shire mare of ten years. The anticipation of the open air, the thrill of the ride, coursed through him as he approached the stall, ready to embrace the untamed spirit of the wind.

However, on that morning, as ostentatious as it was, Eren realised he was not the only one in his sacred place.

Upon crossing the threshold, he noticed an open stall. Though this might have unsettled him, because these things like these never, ever happened in such a methodic place a distant hum drew his attention. It was a soft melody, in a vague, haunting tone, which made him walk toward the source of, as if it were casting a spell over him. Schubert, it was. 

“Hello?” he called out, but the only answer was silence. 

Undeterred, he walked through the stables until he reached the last stall. When he finally entered, he felt as though the gods had smiled upon him.

There, atop a red cashmere blanket spread across the hay bales, a vision of serene grace was curled up with her tiny little nose buried in a book. Oh, he knew her, of course he did. The spell had been cast upon him weeks ago at that opulent, decadent gathering, but now, with her so near and so vulnerably exposed, he was even more entranced. This was Mikasa, the daughter of his closest friend, an enchantress bound by ties of loyalty and propriety that made her sight all the more tormenting.

She seemed blissfully unaware of his presence, and seizing those fleeting moments, he allowed his gaze to linger upon her with a fervent intensity. Her midnight-black hair cascading like a veil, and her skin, pale and flawless, gleamed with an almost otherworldly purity. Eren’s eyes were ensnared by her, unable to avert their gaze.  She was exquisitely beautiful, a beauty that cut to the bone, and also… agonisingly forbidden. 

“Hey,” Eren rasped, his voice rough as he knocked the gate with his fist. He forced himself to keep his gaze from lingering too long on the way her white jeans clung to her curves, especially in her butt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mikasa replied, her voice breaking from its melodic flow as she looked up from the book she had been engrossed in. From his vantage point, Eren first noticed her lips—her  natural, rosy lips. “I didn’t realise someone had arrived.”

Eren let out a groan, blinking. He thought the noise he had made should have been sufficient to alert her. It felt almost as if she had purposefully overlooked him, drawing him closer with the pretence of ignorance. But it sounded quite stupid to think, wasn’t it? “I was just concerned about the open box,” he said.  “We usually don’t leave them open for safety reasons.”

“I see.” She closed the book and rose from her makeshift seat. For a fleeting moment, Eren feared he had angered her, a thought that unsettled him deeply. The only person he didn’t mind provoking was his wife, but the idea of doing the same to Mikasa was far less agreeable. It seemed she harboured no such desire to be antagonised, and that realisation troubled him.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” he continued, trying to maintain his composure despite the turbulent feelings roiling within him. “It’s unusual to find the stables like this.”

She shook her head slightly, her dark hair falling around her shoulders like a silken curtain. “It’s no trouble. I came here to find a quiet place to read. I didn’t realise I was encroaching on someone’s routine.” She smiled, as if trying to ease him somehow. “It won’t happen again, Mr. Jaeger.”

The formal address sent a shiver through him. Her tone, innocently sensual, seemed to blur the line between reality and fantasy, leaving him momentarily uncertain if his senses had deceived him. But the small, wicked smile curling at her lips soon dispelled any doubt. It was clear now—she had spoken with intent, deliberately weaving her words to provoke.

Eren swallowed hard, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the effect of her presence. “I appreciate your understanding,” he said, though the words felt hollow against the backdrop of his confusion.

Mikasa nodded, a glint of amusement dancing in her face. “Of course. I’ll be sure to choose a more appropriate place next time.”

As the girl moved to gather her things, Eren’s gaze, despite his efforts to maintain propriety, inevitably fell on the fabric of her jeans, stretching against her round butt. For a brief moment, an intrusive thought crossed his mind—an unsettling curiosity about whether her ass cheeks would be as pale as her face skin, and whether it would redden easily if… if spanked them with his hand. The thought was both inappropriate and unwelcome, stirring a flush of guilt and shame within him.

He forced himself to look away, shaking his head as if to clear his mind of the unwelcome intrusion.  But he could not rid himself of the thought. It was as if it embedded itself into his consciousness with an unshakeable persistence. 

He had always harboured thoughts of restraint and discipline, of the primal urge to dominate. And something in her was calling to let those fantasies fulfil. Yet… she was still forbidden. She was his best friend’s adopted daughter, ten years younger and entirely beyond his reach. The boundary was clear, unbreakable, or so it should have been. He couldn’t betray Armin like that, nor could he do it to her, innocent as she was. Yet, the more he tried to suppress the thought, the more the desire took root.

When Mikasa finally rose, her book tumbled from her grasp, and he seized the chance to divert his gaze. As he picked it up, a surge of surprise swept over him. The so-called “innocent girl” was engrossed in something far from innocent. 

“Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” he read. “An interesting choice of book.”

Instead of reaching for the book as he had anticipated, she merely laughed. “Don’t tell anyone;  I borrowed it from the trunk of forbidden books.”

Eren looked at her once more, and it was then that he reconfirmed what his instincts had whispered all along. She was, in some way, playing a game to allure him, and if this was her strategy, then he was more than willing to engage.

“So,” he began. “The trunk of forbidden books, you say? I never imagined you to be one for such… provocative literature.”

Mikasa tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. “One must explore the forbidden to understand the world fully. Don’t you agree, Mr. Jaeger?”

The question hung in the air. Eren felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks, both from her insinuation and the brazen challenge in her tone. He forced a casual smile, attempting to mask the growing tension. “Indeed,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “But I think we’re both aware of the boundaries that come with such… explorations.”

Her gaze softened, but the mischief remained. “Boundaries are meant to be tested, aren’t they?.”

“Have you ever explored your boundaries, Mikasa?” he asked, his voice taking on a rough, husky edge as he spoke her name.

“I suppose that depends on what you mean by boundaries. There are many kinds��emotional, physical, societal.” She brushed past him, and stopped just beyond his reach.  “And sexual.”

Her voice, low and sultry, made the word hang heavy in the air between them. Eren could feel the tension crackling, a charged silence punctuated only by the soft rustling of hay and the distant sound of a horse’s whinny.

“And which boundaries are you most interested in exploring, Mikasa?” he asked, his voice rough.

Mikasa turned slightly, her profile illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the stable’s open door. “At my age, I want to explore everything—absolutely everything. There’s still so much to learn, but…” She lowered her voice, ensuring only he could hear. “Lately, the idea of discovering my sexual boundaries has been calling to me, Mr. Jaeger. Quite strongly, I might say.”

Eren’s breath caught in his throat. Her bold response shattered any remnants of propriety he had clung to. 

“That’s why I’ve been pilfering these books,” Mikasa continued, her voice a blend of candour and intrigue. “Though, ah, they haven’t quite lived up to my expectations. They’re exquisitely written, and the portrayal of female pleasure is beautiful, but... I find myself craving something a bit more... intense.”

Her admission stirred a maelstrom of thoughts within him. His mind was consumed by a torrent of sinful fantasies, each more decadent than the last. All he could think about was how he could push the boundaries of her desires and explore the depths of their mutual transgressions.

He took a step closer, the distance between them now minimal. “I also have a chest of forbidden books,” he murmured, his tone dropping to a hushed, secretive note. “In my library at home. Perhaps someday, if you’re interested, I could lend you one. I have a collection of favourites that you might like.”

Her  gaze met his, a flicker of excitement mingling with the challenge in her eyes. “I would like that.” she said softly, “but there’s no need to bring it to me. I can fetch it by myself; one day when your wife isn’t around.” The hint of a smile played on her lips. “Hitch doesn’t seem to like me.”

The way Mikasa spoke Hitch’s name, devoid of any honorifics or any semblance of respect, nearly made Eren laugh. It was undeniable; Hitch, his beloved wife, was widely disliked, and he was no exception to that sentiment—he was among the first to voice it.

“Hitch has never been one to win hearts. Her absence is often a blessing in more ways than one, and, trust me, she blesses me most of the time.”

Mikasa smirked, stepping out of reach. “Then I’ll probably be visiting you very soon, Mr. Jaeger,” she said. “But you know, you shouldn’t mention this to anyone. It could get complicated.”

Eren’s eyes  lingered on her butt as she walked away, his mind filled with vivid, provocative images. He couldn’t help but imagine him not only spanking her with his hand but also with the whip he held so commandingly while her wrists were tied to one of his bedposts. Oh, what a beautiful scenario that was and he wanted to make it a reality.

“No, of course, no,” he said. “Your secret is safe with me.” It was unmistakably clear that Mikasa, that little wretched beast wanted him, and god fuck it, he wanted her just as fiercely. 

Later, as he rode his horse across the vast grasslands and encountered his best friend, who was already heading off to work, a sense of impending chaos settled uneasily in his stomach. Yet, the feeling quickly evaporated as he recalled Mikasa’s lips and her butt—her beautiful round butt.

[rainbow-neko-artblog]

All The Revamped FNF Ex-Souls AU Refs!!!

The Main Characters!!!

BF (Keith Muse -> Four Muse) (They/Them) The Way-too-lucky-for-his-own-good street rat rapper that takes on GF's Ex souls in his place.

and GF (Gabby Dearest -> Gabriel Muse) (He/Him) The Dearest's only child who runs away, starts out really self conscious and scared, grows into his own person overtime.

The Souls!!!

Garcello (2ed Ex) The second guy GF ever dated, had to leave after DD gave him a cursed cigarette pack that killed him eventually. His unfinished business was not getting to spend enough time with Annie.

Tabi (3rd Ex) The third guy GF ever dated, died in a raging fit of revenge after thinking GF was the one who asked her dad to curse him. His unfinished business is his raging anger management problems.

Senpai (1st Ex) The first guy GF ever dated, romantic sweethearts since highschool. Killed directly by DD. His unfinished business is that he never learned to live his life without needing someone else.

GF's Family!!!

Daddy Dearest The most toxically overbearing parent you'll ever meet, a murderer in every respect. The antagonist.

Mommy Dearest Really needs to divorce her husband. Genuinely a caring mother- too scared of DD to help GF when in the house.

The Newground's Family!!!

Pico (He/They) BF's highschool Ex, still cares very deeply for BF though he'll never outright admit it- starts hunting BF and GF down after DD convinces him that BF is being controlled by GF's Exs.

John Captain (Tankman) Pico's retired veteran Dad. Now drives a bus around town for a job. Almost stops BF and GF from leaving the city when DD holds his husband hostage.

Steve Captain Pico's OTHER retired veteran Dad. Much more retired than John- literally stay at home Dad. Lost his arm when DD held him hostage.

The Spooks!!!

Skid and Pump The little kids GF would babysit from time to time- actually able to see the spirits tied to BF. Offer's to let them stay in Skid's house for the night.

Lila Skid's mom, not able to see the spirits- but happy to let GF stay after hearing about the situation with DD.

Lemon Skid's step dad, able to see the spirits- unable to resist the urge to devour BF because of it- chases them and GF out of the house before morning comes.

BF's Family!!!

OB BF's Oldest Brother, lives outside the city limits on a farm to send money back for BB and BF to live in a decent apartment. BF and GF are running to get outside the city to live with him.

BB BF's Big Brother, lives in an apartment with BF in the city. Wasn't a Demon originally- but became one after DD revived him WAY to roughly- causing permanent injury to his body and soul. Can see the spirits in BF- but isn't told about them till they're out of the city because BF was afraid of giving him a heart attack.

Armaros BB's personal caretaker. Was an angel sent to fix the issue with the city itself- fell from grace for the sin of pride after a misunderstanding caused him to falsely target GF and kill BB on accident. Now lives with BB as a form of apology and helps take care of him.

That's everyone!!!!

Everyone important or semi-important anyway HAHA-

[jishyucks]

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious, 

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right? 

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips. 

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper. 

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first. 

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it! 

Your Secret Admirer 

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it. 

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!” 

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?” 

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.” 

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight. 

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.” 

“Huh? How do you know that?” 

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.” 

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes. 

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.” 

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose. 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun. 

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?” 

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.” 

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.” 

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then. 

“Down bad for who?” 

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former. 

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.” 

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.” 

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears. 

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes. 

And you nod. 

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. 

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating. 

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was. 

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.” 

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department. 

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.” 

“Subtle, how?” 

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats. 

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there. 

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below. 

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards. 

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee. 

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.” 

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.” 

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything. 

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet. 

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.” 

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions. 

“Just… I don’t know who it is….” 

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out. 

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.” 

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy. 

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of. 

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.” 

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!” 

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task. 

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home. 

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right. 

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze. 

Shit. 

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked. 

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!” 

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?” 

“What are you still doing here?” you ask. 

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up. 

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company." 

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home. 

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy." 

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.” 

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same. 

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully. 

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing. 

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you. 

You realize that that was a mistake. 

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’. 

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present. 

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck. 

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk. 

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier. 

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was. 

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was. 

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it. 

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin? 

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle. 

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random. 

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out. 

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work. 

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about. 

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky. 

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them. 

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it. 

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief. 

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass. 

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations. 

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present. 

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk." 

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup. 

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?” 

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.” 

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff. 

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.” 

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.” 

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!” 

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno. 

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not). 

Jeno’s bottle was broken. 

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway. 

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!” 

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?” 

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence. 

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?" 

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?” 

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns. 

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?” 

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

[caitchercatlady]

The Promise of Forever

-1st Year Version

Note: Ortho is not included in this post, nor will he be included in the set at all.

Song Inspiration: Marry Me-Train

Ace Trappola

"(Y/N), wanna see me do a trick? Oh, this is a new one. I promise. What? You don't believe me? What did I do to make you mistrust me? Yeah, there was that...and that...and that, but I'm being honest this time. Please, (Y/N), let me show you. Goody! Alright, you sit right here. Lay your hand on this book. Oye, do you trust me or not? Right, so I'm gonna put this cloth over your hand. Now, before I remove the cloth, repeat after me. "Ti volglio sposare." Your desire is my command. Do you like the ring? Well, you already want to marry me, so you can keep it."

Deuce Spade

"Hmm? Going to bed now? Wait, (Y/N). Before you do, I need to tell you something. Yes, it's really important. It can't wait. I can't wait another day to show you something I've been working up to show you. I found this beautiful gem, and I worked very hard to get it for you. I figured you would love how it looks. Well, what do you think? I made sure to get you something as beautiful as you before I asked for your hand in marriage. What did I say? Yeah, I said marriage. You know I'm not good with words, but if I do know one thing, I want to marry you. If I could, I would marry you at the stroke of midnight. Um...do you...will you...accept?"

Jack Howl

"(Y/N), you made it. What? No. I didn't doubt that you would come. You already know that? Gee, you made my heart stop for a second. Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Do you like what you see? That's good. I worked hard to pretty up the place. Why? Erk, uh, well, uh...Why is it I always lose what I want to say when you're around? Ever since I met you, I've seen and said things differently. You flipped my world upside down, but...the view is amazing. I wish to keep it for my own for the rest of my life. You won't be unhappy for a second. I mean, I'm sure you were always happy with me...I hope. What am I saying now? You're right. I gotta get to it before I forget. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. I mean, whether you want to marry me is up to you. So...will you?"

Epel Felmier

"We're almost there, (Y/N). Alright, you can open your eyes now. Isn't it pretty? I tried my best to make it look like the day we first met. I have so many wonderful memories of it all. It's like I live in a dream every day ever since we first started datin'. I've been lucky to not wake up. I hope I never will. Oh, but that's where you come in. You see, I found this pretty ring and it reminded me of you. I thought it would look perfect on that left ring finger of yours. What I mean is...darlin' apple, will you marry me?"

Sebek Zigvolt

"Hu--I mean, (Y/N). I am delighted to catch you here in the garden. I've been in search of you for five minutes. No apologies necessary. I've pondered a thought that hasn't been able to escape my mind for the longest time, and it involves you. Nothing bad, far from it. What I think is...I cannot live my life without you! I've made up my mind at last. Share my life with me for as long as we both shall live, I request of you most greatly! Please, marry me!"

[wafflureal]

Pure Vanilla Cookie's Wet Tingles Info !!!

I decided I would make a post here explaining wet tingles to everyone who might be confused

(PLEASE REBLOG TO REACH MORE PEOPLE !! :3 /nf)

Wet Tingles Origin

It all started when i had a dream on November 1st, 2023, where I got a new costume for Pure Vanilla Cookie called "Wet Tingles." I woke up, and it was on my mind all day, so i decided to make an edited sprite of what it looked like

1ST ANNIVERSARY UPDATE !! :

remade the original sprite to make it look better :3

I posted it to Reddit, where it got pretty popular pretty quickly, but it ended about a week later. Then, fast forward to April 2024, suddenly it's everywhere on Twitter. People were making fanart of him, they were making fan costumes of their favorite cookies, and it even made it to the cookie run kingdom discord server.

September 18th 2024 Update:

A few nights ago i had ANOTHER DREAM OF HIM !! There was this one person on Etsy selling homemade CRK plushies and while i was going through their listings, I saw one with the name "Wet Tingles". This wasn't the same original Wet Tingles we all know and love, this one had a complete redesign with actual clothes this time, he had a cream colored long sleeve shirt with a collar with the top button unbuttoned with a brown diamond pattern pullover and the MyCookie pants but it was the same color as his notorious green towel. He had a mohawk and a few face markings, and a confident lookings pose. Funny enough, the cover art for this listing looked like it was drawn by one of my friends, @cortlandkaard, so I had asked it to draw him and we dubbed him "Awakened Wet Tingles". Basically Pure Vanilla Cookie when you awaken him with soulprisms but if you had the wet tingles costume equipped, the costume would change too. Here's the amazing art made by it ! :D

Wet Tingles Story

The story behind wet tingles is rather long. It takes place during Cookie Odyssey Chapter II. Clotted Cream Cookie invited Pure Vanilla Cookie, GingerBrave, Black Raisin Cookie, and Burnt Cheese Cookie to the Creme Republic to discuss the expedition to Beast Yeast. He sent a hot air balloon to the Vanilla Kingdom to transport them. After arriving in the Republic, they go to the council hall and have a meeting with Clotted Cream Cookie in the Council Hall. He tells them to relax for now and enjoy what the Republic has to offer. He grants them a royal credit card that has infinite uses, almost like in Amphibia. The GingerGang (GingerBrave, Black Raisin Cookie, and Burnt Cheese Cookie) are ecstatic and rush through the Republic, using the credit card on everything they can. Pure Vanilla Cookie, however, is having trouble keeping up with them. They notice and tell him to relax at the Creme Republic Spa. He is reluctant, but they force him to relax there. The lobby of the spa only had a reception table with an unknown character as the receptionist. The GingerGang leave him there and continue on their adventures through the republic, exploring the place and buying more things. Some time goes by, and Financier Cookie shows up and informs them that Clotted Cream Cookie summoned them back to the council hall. They rush to the spa and past reception to get Pure Vanilla Cookie. The actual spa area was a rather big locker room size area with a singular hot tub in the center of it. It was almost like a Japanese sentō, so yes, they were naked in the hot tub. There were a bunch of other INCREDIBLY BUFF cookies with white towels around their waists conversing with each other. Inside the hot tub, however, is Pure Vanilla Cookie with two other INCREDIBLY BUFF cookies. He seemed to be rather flustered being in there with them but is still enjoying himself and conversing with them about the glory days of the Pure Vanilla Kingdom. He spots the GingerGang, and they tell him they're needed in the council hall. He gets out of the tub (GingerGang looks away) and ties that notorious green towel around his waist. They leave the spa quickly, and Pure Vanilla Cookie keeps the towel on the for the rest of the day, even during the meeting with Clotted Cream Cookie.

(NOTE: Pure Vanilla Cookie is the only one with a green towel, and only INCREDIBLY BUFF cookies can have white ones)

Future of Wet Tingles?

I have already drawn Pure Vanilla Cookie's Wet Tingles, but I plan to draw all of the ancients with a Wet Tingles costume (Golden Cheese will have her girlies out)

My original plan with Wet Tingles since the beginning was to have it a real costume for Pure Vanilla Cookie in the game, and i believe together we can pressure the devs hard enough to add it

I never expected a simple dream I had to turn out to be this big within the community, and low-key do so much for gender equality in the community (Twitter oomf's words not mine). I am eternally grateful for everyone who partook in the trend back in April and for those who are still fans of the costume

Fanart?

YES!!!!! PLEASE PLEASE !!!!!! When posting your absolutely fucking awesome wet tingles fanart, please use "#wet tingles" and tag me. There are no limitations to what you may or may not draw, draw OG Wet Tingles, draw your OC in wet tingles, draw your favorite cookie in wet tingles, have the characters do anything you want !!

Here are some fanarts I've gathered through the year :3

- @cortlandkaard

- @original-oz-soda and @mein-schatz

- @rxhouse and @thelosers-club

[panda-wearing-pants]

Reasons for and against each remaining Wild Life member winning (who hasn't yet won a season)

Bdubs: Still has a yellow teammate and has been in the final 6 three times, but hasn't killed anyone yet (other than Skizz once in session 7) and has never made it past 11th in an even numbered season

BigB: The winners usually have an alliance with Cleo in the previous season, but we're not on her team (other than Scar), and BigB was one of the last humans in ep 7 of SL, along with Cleo, he also has an alliance with 2/3 past winners, and is good at surviving, he is also one of the few non-hermits, and the winners have alternated between hermits and non-hermits, but BigB tends not to stick with his allies, which could be dangerous

Etho: Still yellow and has many allies, and has been in every finale, but can't trust his main team to keep him safe, and will likely be trusted less by his other allies due to being on so many teams

Gem: Two out of five winners have won in their second season, and Gem, Joel, and Etho are all still yellow, but Gem and Joel will likely be targeted, due to being two of the best at PVP

Impulse: Impulse is still yellow, has good teammates, and is almost always in the top 7, but he isn't good at defending himself, and gets eliminated because of that

Ren: Ren has the greatest average net change in placement, going from 7th to 2nd to 11th, so, following the trend, he should place very high, maybe even 1st, Ren also got the 43rd kill, and the only two other people to get the 43rd kill were Scott in LL and Martyn in LimL, but Ren did just lose his only teammate, which is not helpful

Joel: Joel is still yellow, has two very good teammates (they are two of the only four players to never miss a finale), is good at PVP, and has been waiting for this for years, he has also been consistently at the top of my statistical predictions, unfortunately, Grian's teammates don't typically survive long (Scar placed second, but was red by episode three), and Joel often gets reckless in finales

Tango: Tango has doubled his total kills, and is good at surviving, but his survival skills typically get worse once he turns red, and his final deaths are known for being stupidly avoidable

Cleo: Cleo won Real Life, has good teammates, and hasn't made many enemies, but they have only been in the top 7 once, despite almost always making it to the finale

Other things:

Bamboozlers: I felt like Jimmy and Lizzie had similar reasons, so I put them together. Jimmy and Scar are tied for the most kills out of all living players, Lizzie is good at surviving, and Scar and Lizzie have both had a teammate make the final 2, despite only having a combined total of 8 teammates (not including WL) over a combined total of 7 seasons. The bad news is that the three of them have only ever outlived 1 of their combined 17 teammates (Bdubs in LimL died before Scar), and Lizzie and Jimmy have never been in a finale.

Reputations: Gem's first ever episode was titled "I have a reputation," which may be the reason she can't win. I think people are going to be too afraid of the Family and the G's to let them live, which leaves basically the Tuff Guys' and Bamboozlers. People in 3L were more afraid of Scar and Ren than Grian, allowing him to get to the final 3 while yellow, Scott wasn't a threat in LL, due to placing 10th in 3L, Pearl and Scar were alone in their seasons, so they managed to survive (I guess this probably doesn't apply to Martyn)

Yellows: Grian and Pearl started on yellow in the finales they won, Scott had just turned red at the end of the penultimate episode, and everyone started on red in the LimL and SL finales, so Gem, Joel, Etho, and Impulse are in good positions.

In my opinion, Gem, Joel and Impulse are likely to win, followed by Cleo and Ren, then Etho and BigB, and Bdubs, Tango, Lizzie, and Jimmy at the bottom

[cant-get-enough-btr-forever]

Here's a rundown of the Big Time Rush timeline that no one asked for.

Season 1: early April -> late July (2010)

It's snowing in the pilot, but the boys are still in school (and Christmas decor is nowhere to be found).

In real life, April 4 was officially declared "Big Time Rush Day" by the mayor of Duluth (the fictional band's hometown). At first glance, this oddly specific date doesn't seem to have any ties to BTR. But after thinking about it, I realized that this was probably when the boys left Duluth to make it big time.

Griffin gives them three months to produce their demos.

So, "Big Time Demos" is set in early June. Just for good measure, Kendall opens this episode with "I can't believe we've been here for three months!"

In "Big Time Dance", the Palmwoods School throws an "end-of-year" dance party. End of the school year, that is. In 2010, the last day of school was June 24 (in Los Angeles, anyway).

A couple episodes later, "Big Time Fever" shows everyone dying of heat.

Then, in the season finale, the guys return to Duluth. It's no longer snowing. In fact, everybody is dressed lightly. Obviously, it's a warm month for the whole country—like, say, late July.

According to Gustavo, their first tour starts two weeks after the finale.

Conclusion: This season takes place over the course of four months. The pilot is set in early April (one of the snowiest months in Duluth), while the finale is set in late July (one of the hottest months in Los Angeles).

Season 2: late September (2010) -> late November (2011)

Their tour must have started in mid-August, since that's two weeks after late July. According to Katie, it lasted for six weeks.

The first episode opens with Mr. Bitters telling the boys that "it's fall." Six weeks after mid-August is late September, which is when fall begins. The band also performs at Rocktoberfest, which—you guessed it—happens in late September.

"Big Time Pranks" takes place smack in the middle of "Big Time Halloween" and "Big Time Christmas." It's safe to say that this one is set in November. Dang, I really wanted "The Day of Pranks" to be April 1st...

"Big Time Moms" is set in mid-May, of course.

Proms are typically held in late April to early June. Since "Big Time Prom Kings" comes right after "Big Time Moms", it's set in late May.

You know what? After season 1, the air dates seem to align with the fictional settings. So, I'll just assume that the season 2 finale takes place in late November.

Conclusion: Season 2 encapsulates a whole year—both for the characters, and the viewers.

Big Time Movie: mid-March (2012)

I'll guesstimate that the boys had about two months to prepare for their world tour.

Everyone is bundled up in coats, scarves, etc. The average March high in London is around 54°F (12°C).

Oh yeah, the movie was released on March 10.

Conclusion: Mid-March it is. Also, it's hard to believe that the whole film happens within a day.

Season 3: ?? mid-May -> early November (2012) ??

Their world tour apparently spans two months (no one ever says exactly how long it is). This season kicks off with their final concert.

I have a gut feeling that "Big Time Camping" takes place in October, since it's an ideal month for camping in California (mild temps).

I can only assume that the finale is set before December.

Conclusion: Honestly, there's not much to gauge dates from in season 3. Trust me—I re-watched the entirety of it, for this sole purpose. Everything just sort of...happens.

The only episode that hints a date is "Big Time Gold": Kendall says Jo's birthday is on the 21st. Of what, Kendall? The 21st of what?? It seems like they purposely avoid mentioning months. So, I mainly relied on the air dates as evidence.

Season 4: early May -> late July (2013)

In the first episode, Logan says they're about to announce their summer tour. So, clearly, it's almost summer. Once again, I used my guesstimating skills to infer that they announced it a month in advance. Besides, this episode aired in May.

This shot from "Big Time Cameos" (episode 5) proves that it's set in late May/early June:

The finale aired in late July, so it must be set in late July. Also, it just makes sense that the "Tween Choice Awards" would be held in the summer.

Conclusion: Well, this one is short and sweet: It simply seems to take place over two months. However, there is one glaring discrepancy: "Big Time Pranks II" sits in the middle of this season. We've already established that the Day of Pranks is in November. So...what happened here? Did the writers just completely ignore this detail??

.....

Let's summarize!

Within the showverse, Big Time Rush's entire career spans three years. It begins in early April of 2010, and ends in late July of 2013.

Well...it doesn't "end", per se. It just disappears from the fourth wall's view. We have yet to know how long Showverse!BTR really lasted, past the finale.

[melefim]

Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: Crystal Palace Surname-Von Hoverkraft

Overview:

115 curses total, 12 different words said in 8 episodes.

Episode 1: 2 Fuck, 2 Shit, 1 Ass, 4 God, 3 Jesus, 2 Screw

Episode 2: 6 Shit, 6 God, 1 Jesus

Episode 3: 4 Fuck, 6 Shit, 1 Bitch, 1 Ass, 2 Damn, 2 Hell, 3 God, 1 Jesus

Episode 4: 2 Fuck, 1 Shit, 1 Ass, 2 Hell, 1 God, 1 Jesus

Episode 5: 1 Fuck, 4 Shit, 4 God, 1 Pussy, 1 Dick, 2 Screw

Episode 6: 4 Fuck, 2 Shit, 1 Ass, 2 Hell, 3 God

Episode 7: 2 Fuck, 6 Shit, 1 Ass, 4 God, 1 Jesus, 1 Screw

Episode 8: 5 Fuck, 5 Shit, 2 Bitch, 7 God, 1 Jesus, 1 Prick

Curses Per Episode:

Episode 1: 14

Episode 2: 13

Episode 3: 20

Episode 4: 8

Episode 5: 13

Episode 6: 12

Episode 7: 15

Episode 8: 21

Uses Per Word:

Crystal’s favorite curse words are Shit and God, which she says 32 times each! In third place is Fuck, which she says 20 times.

Shit: 32

God: 32

Fuck: 20

Jesus: 8

Hell: 6

Ass: 5

Screw: 5

Bitch: 3

Damn: 2

Pussy: 1

Dick: 1

Prick: 1

Unique words:

Crystal and the Cat King are the only characters who say Pussy.

Crystal and Charles are the only characters who say Prick.

Crystal, Jenny, and Esther are the only characters who say Screw.

Crystal, the Cat King, and Twitchy Richie are the only characters who say Dick.

Percent of Total:

Crystal swears 115 times throughout the season, which is 35.9% of all cursing in the show.

Rankings:

Who Swears the Most: Crystal is in 1st place, with 116 times.

Most Curses in an Episode: Crystal holds 7 spots on the top 10 ‘Curses per Character per Episode’ list:

Curse Word Variety: Crystal comes in 2nd for swearing variety, with 12 different words used throughout the show.

Individual Words: She holds the top spots for usages of seven different words: Fuck (20), Shit (32), God (32), Jesus (8), Hell (6), Ass (4) and Screw (5). She is also tied for first for her unique word usages of Pussy (with the Cat King), Dick (with the Cat King and Twitchy Richie), and Prick (with Charles) one use of each.

Lines:

Episode 1: Oh my god, why can't I remember?

Episode 1: It's just a stupid fucking name.

Episode 1: Jesus, where did he go?

Episode 1: Oh, Jesus. I'm gonna wait in the bathroom until they leave.

Episode 1: Holy shit, did you take some of my memories? I don't have some screwed-up amnesia, you took them.

Episode 1: God! I just need a second, okay?

Episode 1: So maybe he's our fucking demon now!

Episode 1: God, I just want to take their heads and just crush them together, I am so mad!

Episode 1: Jesus, I am such an idiot.

Episode 1: Oh my god, I never even thought about the fact that they could still be alive.

Episode 1: Which was totally my bad and very screwed up and I should have told you everything.

Episode 1: Holy shit. (Edwin tells her about girl turned into small piece of plastic)

Episode 1: He's still a stalker, still an asshole. But I am going to get my memories back.

Episode 2: Ok, props for the like, Herculean-level effort, but vandalizing my shit isn't getting us anywhere.

Episode 2: Oh, shit. Sorry. (Almost runs into Niko)

Episode 2: Oh my god, holy shit! (Niko collapses)

Episode 2: God, I feel lonely too.

Episode 2: Jesus, you guys are like a dead married couple on acid.

Episode 2: Oh my God! Holy shit, how does today keep getting more disgusting?

Episode 2: God (After Edwin asks 'And were there any graves or decaying bodies near her in the woods?')

Episode 2: Oh my god, Charles back me up.

Episode 2: Oh, shit, uh... (Sees sprite-controlled Niko in butcher shop)

Episode 2: Oh my god, Niko! (Niko starts seizing)

Episode 2: Niko? Holy shit, your hair!

Episode 3: Holy shit, who knew this town was such a Mecca for troubled ghosts?

Episode 3: I just heard some people talking about it in the um, God, it was the… malt shop and it sounded super crazy.

Episode 3: What the actual fuck?

Episode 3: Jesus, I can't watch this again.

Episode 3: Just what the fuck is it?

Episode 3: So ok, if we figure out what sent that piece of shit dad over the edge, we can what? Free the family?

Episode 3: Good luck finding it now, asshole.

Episode 3: Where the hell did he go?

Episode 3: Thank god, there he is.

Episode 3: His dad was bad, Edwin. Royally fucked-up bad.

Episode 3: And if I have to hear that goddamn song one more time, I am gonna lose my shit.

Episode 3: Oh shit, yes.

Episode 3: Oh my god. Son of a bitch owned an electronics store.

Episode 3: Damn it, I know you choose the worst times to show up on purpose.

Episode 3: Go to hell.

Episode 3: I am done wasting my energy on your fuck-boy bullshit.

Episode 3: (Crystal we did it) Holy shit, we actually did.

Episode 4: Sorry, I've just been dealing with some shitty stuff with my ex.

Episode 4: God, it's driving me crazy.

Episode 4: What in the hell was that?

Episode 4: Jesus, she thought about it too, like she definitely knew something and then it was just riddle.

Episode 4: You fucked with my head, I'm gonna fuck with yours.

Episode 4: Niko- thanks for like, saving my ass today.

Episode 4: And I am tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not being any closer to finding out who the hell I am.

Episode 5: Holy shit! (Waking up from nightmare)

Episode 5: Oh god. Cash and condoms. Thanks.

Episode 5: Oh, no it's porn, it's all just porn. Oh my god.

Episode 5: Deep down, guys that make gay jokes are always the biggest pussies.

Episode 5: Because all nice guys give their girlfriends date rape drugs to screw with their future.

Episode 5: You walk around acting like the sun always shines, and then you lost your shit while beating the Night Nurse. Edwin and I are walking on eggshells around you instead of just saying 'what the actual fuck?'

Episode 5: I am really not sorry the world is short two toxic dickheads.

Episode 5: It's a really shitty thing to have in common.

Episode 5: Hey Jenny? Hey, what's with the fl- Holy shit.

Episode 5: No boy is screwing my life up.

Episode 5: I can't keep him out of my head. God, he just keeps coming, I don't… I don't know how to stop him. God, what if I can't?

Episode 6: What the hell? I have to pay my rent. I can't be a homeless person with a heart-shaped gem.

Episode 6: I want to keep this demon the fuck out.

Episode 6: God, I just want to be normal.

Episode 6: God, I feel totally useless.

Episode 6: So no, I didn't read the stupid tree! … Shit.

Episode 6: It's like he's fucking haunting me.

Episode 6: What the hell just happened?

Episode 6: I gave up my powers, OK? I got you out of my fucking head.

Episode 6: You can't get in anymore, asshole.

Episode 6: I am nothing special, So why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?

Episode 6: OK, enough uh, emotional bullshit.

Episode 6: Oh my God, are you guys OK?

Episode 7: Holy shit, you're still alive?

Episode 7: What kind of bullshit is that?

Episode 7: Jesus. You have never been to hell, stop acting like an expert. Look, when I got possessed, when I nearly ran off a cliff, when I screwed up and lost my powers, you both helped me.

Episode 7: God, Edwin is my friend too, whether he likes it or not.

Episode 7: God, if you really won't let me go, then I'll find my own way to Hell.

Episode 7: Fucking bullshit, like I can't help.

Episode 7: God, that's fucking insane.

Episode 7: Holy shit, Jenny. You shouldn't be here!

Episode 7: Just cut this shit!

Episode 7: These are mine, asshole.

Episode 7: Oh, bullshit. A good detective does what he has to in order to close the case.

Episode 7: God, I gotta figure out what I'm going to tell her.

Episode 8: Am I ever wrong about this shit?

Episode 8: My parents won't say shit, they don't even--

Episode 8: Jesus Christ! You guys scared me!

Episode 8: God, it's like being punched in the face and the stomach.

Episode 8: Yeah, well blame my parents. Holy shit!

Episode 8: Mom? Oh my God. Mom is that--

Episode 8: Maybe karma is just a bitch.

Episode 8: Oh, my God. Oh, I'm a fucking awful person. Oh, God, I'm the worst.

Episode 8: God, I was a bad person before him.

Episode 8: Because if you did, God, you'd hate me.

Episode 8: Oh my God, Jenny are you OK?

Episode 8: Shit! (digging Niko out of rubble)

Episode 8: Fuck! (Esther has the boys)

Episode 8: Because whatever fucked-up little thing you have going on with Edwin, you must care about him a little.

Episode 8: She probably put a, like, kill-you-instantly spell or some witchy shit on the door.

Episode 8: I am so sorry he was a colossal prick.

Episode 8: Hubris is a bitch, am I right?

Episode 8: I don't have to give up my new fucked-up life while I'm trying to sort out my old fucked-up life.

Notes:

Not Included:

Crystal flips Edwin off in the malt shop in episode 1.

Updated:

Added in top spots for usages of a couple words I missed.

Added in Twitchy Richie for unique usages of the word dick.

Added in a god I missed in episode 2.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress

[siribaes]

MISSED YOU

JALEN HURTS x blackfem!reader

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Freefall by Kaytranada & Durand Bernarr, I Miss You by Beyoncé, Backseat by Ari Lennox

WARNINGS: 18+, SMUT, Jalen being a low-key soft boy, praise kink, use of AAVE/N-word, etc.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my 1st fic, enjoy! (also this hasn’t been proof read so please ignore any typos lol) / GIF CREDIT: @fixedfour

“Arch it just like that…”

The sound of wet skin slapping against each other bounces off the bedroom walls. The comforter felt soft underneath Y/N’s grip, a perfect contrast to the rough one Jalen on had on her hips. The calloused pads of his fingertips swiped at the swell of her hips as he pistoned in and out of her….in and out…in and out…

“Fucckkk,” Jalen groaned, “A nigga missed you, you missed me huh?”’

Y/N felt her pussy flutter at the hoarseness in his voice. At had an edge to it, like he needed to hear her somehow, some way.

A smart slap on her ass interrupted Y/N’s drift in thought. She turned her head to look at Jalen, completely zeroed in on his torso. His skin glistened with sweat as his sculpted chest held a slight red hue. A gold chain glittery, shined brightly under the soft, candle light. The J initial swayed back and forth in tandem the rhythm of his strokes. Her eyes combed upwards. Y/N shuddered at the sight, his plump bottom lip was tucked tightly between his teeth. Yet, his eyes were round and saucer like. He gaze was so soft and held a such anticipation that he practically, begged for the words to come tumbling off her tongue. He needed to hear you say it, you missed him, you missed the he touched you, you missed the way he fucked you…

A small whimper escaped Y/N’s mouth as tears prickled in her eyes. The whole sight was so overwhelming but she loved every single minute of it.

“Babyyyy,” Y/N whined. She felt the familiar thrumming sensation as her orgasm quickly approached. Her walls contracted and squeezed around Jalen’s dick. “I missed you so much, baby, fuck! You fuckin’ me so good.”

Rewarding Y/N for her confession, Jalen fucked her harder, and deeper, while he rasped endless praises into her ear.

Fuck, you know I love you right.

You doin’ so good for me, takin’ me.

Pussy so tight, you squeezing me, Mama.

With his throwing hand, Jalen licked this thumb before he reached around Y/N’s stomach, towards her pussy. He rubbed lazy circles on her clit. Y/N felt something inside her snap, her orgasm hurdled towards the surface. Jalen continued to fuck her as she writhed and convulsed around him.

“Jalennnnnnnn,” Y/N moaned. She attempted to claw her up the bed towards the head board, only for Jalen’s quick reflexes to kick in as he snatched her back against him.

“Don’t run baby, you was doin’ so good,” Jalen rasped. He placed a sweet kiss on Y/N’s shoulder, that sent chills down her spine. “I’m almost there, mama. Fuck, just keep squeezing me like that.”

His normal composure was long gone as he pounded against Y/N’s g-spot. He relentlessly drove into her, completely lost in her warmth and wetness. A loud moan of his name, pushed him over the edge. Jalen’s hips snapped as he unloaded inside of the condom. His body convulsed as a slew of curses left his lips. Y/N’s moaned as she lazily grounded her hips against Jalen, secretly wishing there was no barrier between them. That she could feel all of him, his cum filling her up, warming up her insides. One day…

Despite Y/N’s whiny protests he slowly pulled out of her. Jalen sat on the side of the bed, he easily pulled the condom off, tied it in a knot, and threw it in the trash can. Y/N shivered from the after shocks of her orgasm as she turned and brought the comforter over her body. Jalen rejoined Y/N, he slid himself underneath the comforter, lying gently onto her stomach. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close to him. With soft fingers, Y/N drew loopy circles against Jalen’s curls. He hummed, the vibrations sent shivers through her body.

“You missed me that much, huh?” Y/N teased.

Eyes closed, a sly grin grew across his lips. His eyes fluttered open, soft and thick eyelashes batted against the tops of his cheeks.

“Hell yeah, I did,” Jalen’s hands slid upwards softly cupping on of Y/N’s breast. Still sensitive, Y/N moaned in response. “So much, I think I got another round in me.”

[saylessastrology]

Moon In Natal Houses 🏡 🌕

Moon in 1st house/ Rather you like it or not you wear your emotions on your sleeve. Others can usually tell when you are not in the best emotional state due to the first house being your outer appearance. You may come off to others as emotional and moody even when you are in a good place emotionally. When you’re happy and smiling the world and others around you can almost feel it.

Moon in 2nd/ You place a lot of value in your emotions and expressions of them. You could also profit from doing business with women. You could make money doing something that requires you to express your feelings such as a commentator, blogger, or online personality. You may also have a stronger emotional tie to money than most people.

Moon in 3rd/ The planet of emotions landing in the house of communication is a great indicator for a person who is witty and good with turning their emotions into easily digestible words. You would excel in all areas involving emotional communication. You communicate well with siblings and they may even see you as the “emotional one” in the family.

Moon in 4th/ You sweet soul. This placement is one of the most sensitive areas for the moon to land in your chart. The 4th house is where our deepest inner emotions and inner childhood thoughts reside. Home and privacy means more to you than the average person. These spaces are considered your “safe place” where you can go to retreat. Even if you did not have to best home life the idea of what “home” means to you emotionally is psychologically deep.

Moon in 5th/ The moon here just wants to have a good time and express their true self. These are people who are very blunt with their words and require a significant amount of emotional freedom. You’re optimistic most of the time to a fault and even your occasional cynicism has an upbeat flare to it. Lighthearted dating and flings may be one of your hearts guilty pleasures.

Moon in the 6th/ You are always think of ways to help those you love with your emotional support. This is the house of daily work so you may experience significant emotional experiences at your job that shape and change you as a person. It’s also the health house so having the moon here could indicate that you are at your best emotional health when you have been taking care of your physical and mental health.

Moon in the 7th/ The moon here makes for an affectionate and emotionally dependable individual. One of your emotional strengths is your ability to relate and interact emotionally with others. You my be someone who prefers to be partnered up with someone rather than enjoy being single. There is an emotional spark that activates when you are interacting emotionally with others

Moon in 8th/ Intense, deep, and psychologically powerful. Your emotional make up is not for the lighthearted. Everything you feel is deep and meaningful and others are likely captivated by your naturally intense what of expression. You may at times feel like a tortured soul going through life wondering why everything has to feel so intense all the time!?! This experiences are meant to being you closer and deeper to your purest emotional healing.

Moon in the 9th/

People may come to you a lot for emotional advice because your moon in the 9th is so physiologically inclined. These are the natural healers and emotional prophets of the zodiac and would excel in a psychological profession that requires them to give life advice to others. You may also be a bit of a book warm or documentary enthusiast.

Moon in the 10th/ Your emotions are often tied to your outer experiences in the world. You may have an underlying emotional need for recognition and success from the outside world and authorities. Your emotions are often on display at work and in your career life as well. This is a person who is so charming in their career they could easily sell water to fish.

Moon in the 11th/ You likely feel emotionally fulfilled when you are around your friends and social groups. You enjoy and are great of interacting emotionally with different people of all communities. You may also have a lot of female friends in your close circle.

Moon in 12th/ This is a sweet yet sensitive place to have your moon land in your chart. The 12th house is psychological and spiritually filled with some of our deepest mental health thoughts and illusions that we prefer to keep hidden. This is even more so emphasized when the moon is here. You are painfully sensitive to the world and others around you so you go out of your way to creat a safe place for your emotions to hide when the world is being too aggressive.

[starry-hughes]

baby’s first christmas (quinn hughes)

day 20 of star’s ficmas

sawyer tkachuk x quinn hughes (au)

Sawyer Tkachuk and Quinn Hughes were tied together by an invisible string. It probably tied them together long before they met, long before Quinn made friends with Brady Tkachuk, and long before the two realized they were in love.

Sawyer hadn’t found passion in hockey like her family did. She’d rather paint her brothers on the ice, not be on the ice. The sad part about it all, was that she wasn’t always met with support. Quinn once showed up to an art show when no one else did. He was always there.

The two had eloped, Ellen Hughes being the sole witness. They didn’t need anything big or special, just them. Sawyer’s family felt a bit upset that they weren’t in attendance but Sawyer didn’t care. She was happy and that’s what mattered.

Months after the wedding, Sawyer was pregnant. And then the couple spent their New Years Eve in the hospital, thirty minutes before January 1st, they welcomed Poppy into the world. Watching the fireworks from the window as they soaked in their first hours with their daughter.

Poppy was almost a year old when Christmas came around. Sawyer was a bit sad that Poppy wasn’t a baby for the holiday, but she was still excited to have Poppy to celebrate with.

Quinn had put the tree together before leaving for morning skate. When he came home, there were ornaments decorating the tree. Poppy hadn’t mastered walking yet but she sure did know how to pull herself up on things. Out of fear for injury, Sawyer had put a baby gate around the tree, just in case Poppy wanted to try using the Christmas tree to pull herself up.

“Hi my girls,” Quinn greeted as he entered the living room. Poppy happily crawled over to her dad before he picked her up. “Hi bubba, did you help mommy decorate?”

“Daddy has to help to put up the star, right Pop?”

Sawyer happily watched, videoing as Quinn held Poppy on his hip and lifted the star to the top of the tree. “Yay Poppy!” Quinn cheered as if the baby did all the hard work.

Colorful lights illuminated the room as How the Grinch Stole Christmas played on the TV. Due to the fact that the Canucks played the day before Christmas Eve, the three of them would be spending Christmas in Vancouver. Poppy had her pacifier in her mouth, sleeping peacefully halfway through the movie. “I’m going to put her down,” Sawyer whispered to Quinn, who was almost asleep.

On Christmas Eve, Poppy had been good. She sat happily through mandatory phone calls with both her grandparents and uncles and aunts. “Is Santa visiting you tonight Pop?” Matthew Tkachuk cooed over the phone, resulting in a quick nod from Poppy.

Poppy had tried yanking down her own stocking but was stopped by Quinn who placed her in air jail until she stopped her fake crying. “I think someone is ready for bed,” Quinn said.

Sawyer sat with Poppy in her arms, Quinn next to them with a book, The Night Before Christmas. “‘Twas the night before Christmas…” Quinn started.

In her Christmas pajamas and her favorite pacifier, Poppy rested in her crib. As soon as she was asleep, Quinn and Sawyer worked to get all the gifts wrapped and under the tree. Quinn shoved cookies into his mouth and made sure to leave crumbs from Santa. “Quinn,” Sawyer began as she wrapped a drum set Luke was insistent on getting Poppy, “she’s going to be almost two years old next Christmas.”

“She’ll still be our baby.”

Quinn was awoken by soft babbling emitting from the baby monitor. He rolled over, kissing and waking Sawyer. “Merry Christmas,” he mumbled. Sawyer happily retrieved Poppy from crib, Poppy’s full head of hair was curly and messy. “Look Poppy! Santa came!”