#also if you want to know what I have written down for the other day 1 calendars

[blue-arkhamknight]

Omg hiiii you seem cool ! And I’ve had this Jason Todd idea in my head for a bit so

What if the reader is basically his nurse he comes to her for every little cut to actual serious injuries

And this is normal but one night when he stops by to have her help with something small he realizes she sick ,fever ,chills the works and she’s stubborn but he wants to help his nurse

Just some good hurt comfort ,kinda the tables have turned

This could also totally be written as gender neutral reader instead of fem

Have a good day !

Tysm!! I actually love this idea. I have delivered (not too much well though) . Thank you for requesting and have a good day too!

Images do not belong to me and I am not a doctor or a nurse! This is all with my Dr. Mike knowledge.

I changed it a bit sorry 😿

Chicken Soup and Netflix.

Warnings: Sick reader and some deep brief detail about the sickness.

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── .★

Jason is… a bit odd to say the least. Very tall and muscular with the peculiar trait to have his face scrunched up in the waiting room of one of Gotham’s hospitals. You might ask, well what’s Jason doing there? Simple, he got a cut. Slicing some apples that his lazy brother Dick didn’t want to slice himself.

But he didn’t go there to see any nurse that could quickly attend him. No, that’d be too easy! Might as well just buy a simple bandaid and stick it on his finger then call it a day, which he absolutely can. He just doesn’t want to. This time and like any other time he went to that hospital (which was all the time) he asked for the same specific nurse. You.

“Alright, Jason. To what do I have the pleasure of seeing you for the sixth time in four days?” you questioned as you finally attended Jason. He still glared at you because for his logic, you took too long in attending him. Reality was that you were just working on a patient that was going to get a CT scan, after all, patients should be hydrated before the scans… And you were not feeling well in all honesty. Of course, Jason noticed your held in sneezes and cold shivers, but he didn’t say anything for now, fearing he would be wrong and make a fool of himself.

He held up his left index finger, showing the small cut on full display. “I cut myself.” he explained dryly as you stared at him like he was the dumbest person on Earth. You silently sighed, at the sight of his dumb cut, but also because you felt like absolute crap. “You do know about the existence of bandaids, right?” you said as you pulled out a box of them after you questioned him on how the cut occurred like with any patient. There was no need for an experienced doctor here and waste their time like you were wasting yours, even if you felt the slightest pang of something by Jason’s often demands to be attended by you out of everyone on the field.

“This is very serious! It could get infected and I need medical assistance.” he quickly defended himself. He was cradling his finger as if it would fall off. Your eyes looked at the tiny cut while you held in that very annoyed eye roll. Once you had ‘cured’ him as he called it, he stopped with the frowns. He was indeed sad that it was quick, but hey. It’s a win situation for him because got to see your face!

“Achoo!”. What? Jason’s head immediately whipped from where he was standing at the door to behind him. His hand dropped from the door knob and moved his body to face you. “…Are you sick?” he asked with his normal stoic voice, though his face was the smallest bit softer than usual. “What- no, no, no!” you rapidly declined with a very, very stubborn frown, though you were wrong. So wrong. Chills, shivers, fever, and held in coughs and sneezes.

How had he not noticed?! You looked awful and he hadn’t helped! “Sit down.” he said, though it sounded much more harsher than he intended it to be and what made it sound like a command when it wasn’t. Which rightfully so, it earned a deeper frown and a scoff from you. Truly, he was as stoic as a rock, but of course that didn’t stop the pang on his heart. The one that screamed at him ‘Stop being a nuisance and help!’, but shhh shhhh! He needs to be nonchalant, guys! Though he was always welcomed to be as chalant as he wanted.

────

After lots and lots and lots and lots of talking he finally did it. Jason convinced you to leave work and call in sick. With of course the very logical excuse that a nurse shouldn’t go to work ill, they will get sick other patients and potentially making them feel worse. Guilt tripping much, but you had to admit. The guy had a very good point.

Conveniently, Jason got to be your ride home. Again, he reasoned that you shouldn’t go on the bus and risk getting people sick. “But what about you, smart ass?” you asked sarcastically, though your words held deep inside concern of getting sick this regular patient with whom you’ve had deep talks like good friends. It all held its own deep meaning nonetheless, the glances he stole, the scoffs, the frowns, the eye rolls, and the effort he put into seeing you at the hospital. Every small injury he got, intentional or not, was an excuse to see you.

“You’ve helped me enough. Let me be of use this time.” he said as his motorcycle came to a stop. Jason hopped out first, carefully taking your hand and helping you get down. Though before you could say thank you, or huff at him, you quickly had to cover your mouth and sneeze, making you sigh and disinfect your hands so you could later wash them. You groaned at the cold, violently shivering while you walked up to your apartment complex. Jason trailed behind you in deep thought. Suddenly there was a welcoming warmth around your shoulders, a brown jacket.

If Jason could admit, it was definitely freezing. He had taken off his own jacket for your own safety. Not wanting your state to get any worse and as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he absolutely despises the horrible condition you are in. He doesn’t like it. Not the paleness, the shivering, the sneezes, the disgusting phlegm sounding coughs, and the eye bags. In conclusion? He had the case of being utterly worried and hiding it behind a stoic mask.

Clearly his jacket was welcomed since you didn’t give any sign of protest, other than huff. Even if you still didn’t want to admit it you were sick as hell and he was going to leave you alone. After all, you had helped him too many damn times with the dumbest stuff. As you both made it through the complex he saw an elevator and quickly guided you to it. “Number.” he said gruffly, leaving you confused, “Number?…” you repeated as a question. He grumbled looking at you, “Floor number.” Jason specified, making you mentally go: ‘Ohhhhh.’. “Right- Sixth floor.” you said looking at him as he gave a nod and pressed the elevator button with the number six on it.

Shortly you went into a coughing fit, covering your mouth. Jason took a notice, his hand snaking to your back and slightly patting your back. He could feel the violent shivers. Once the elevator opened and he made sure you stopped coughing, he gently pushed you off the floor elevator and trailed behind. You started walking towards your apartment. Opening the door you turned to him.

“…You can.. uh come in if you want.” you muttered, your voice getting hoarser by the time. Jason, still internally concerned gave a nod waiting for you to get inside. “How’s your finger? Still lethal?” you asked as you stepped inside, trying to loosen the tense air. He shrugged, looking at his index finger that wore the smallest bandage, “…I suppose I can last a few more hours.” he said following your tone. A hum escaped your throat, “Maybe you need some IV’s.” you said as he stepped behind you and closed the door, getting a “Definitely.” from him.

You settled down your stuff, crashing down in the couch and thats all Jason needed. He looked around and walked to the kitchen, looking for stuff to at least make a soup for you. Surprisingly he isn’t a bad cook. Grabbing the necessary ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. You looked at him from the couch, eyes lidded with exhaustion and a twinge of guilt.

“You don’t have to cook you kn-“ you spoke up, getting cut off by a stern stare of him making your sentence die down. He opened a cabinet after another, stopping when he found medicine, reading each of the labels until he saw one that was needed for your symptoms. He finished cooking the soup and poured it into a bowl and set it aside to cool down a bit. Jason then opened your fridge to grab a water bottle. His steps echoed through the silent apartment.

He stopped in front of you, handing you the bottle of water and the medicine, fixing his jacket so it covered you and kept you warm and sat you up. “Thanks…” you mumbled and took them as you sat up with his help on the couch. Jason gave another nod, “Yeah no problem.” he answered. He walked again to the kitchen and grabbed the soup bowl, a spoon and went to sit next to you. Gently, he handed you the bowl and looked around. Seeing this you gave him the TV control and he gladly took it.

Jason played a random movie in your Netflix account as you ate slowly the soup he had carefully made, his jacket around you. Your legs were in a butterfly position on the couch and slowly leaned your head on his shoulder while you kept eating the soup. Then there was a weight on your own head and another around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder. “Guess who’s the nurse now?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, but at last, it was nice to be taken care of instead to take care of.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

SORRY IF THIS WAS BAD!! English isn’t my first language, but I’m trying to be better at writing!! Hope you liked it a little bit.

[dootznbootz]

Hello, I want to ask this question but I don't want it to sound disrespectful, I really want to know and I'm not trying to be rude.

Why are Helen and Menelaus one of your OTPs? I mean, at least the versions I know Helen falls in love with Paris and willingly goes to Troy with him (but I have to say that this was told to me, I didn't read it from any legitimate source, so I could be wrong) so I'd like to know what makes you love them! And that's all, I hope you have a nice day:3

YIPPEE! :D First of all, I wanna say thank you for being polite and genuine with your ask :3 I really appreciate that you seem to be coming from a genuinely curious perspective and want to know why! I hope you have a lovely day too <3

And then~ Ima put some links to other posts of mine (AND some other lovely folks) that discuss Helen and Menelaus and the whole thing with Paris. Most have text evidence :3

I have made the ones that I think are most important to read in bold

Menelaus in the Iliad talking about how Paris stole Helen

A fantastic essay written by another Tumblr user (deactivated now. you will be missed!) that delves into the reality of Paris and Helen's relationship alongside Paris as a person

My own essay about how Odysseus and Helen play "similar roles" in their stories. I'm assuming you've found me through my Odyssey and Water Wife stuff, so you're probably an Odysseus fan so this kind of delves into how I, personally, believe that Odysseus and Helen mirror each other in many ways plot wise. So if you are also in agreement that Odysseus couldn't have cheated because cheating requires consent, Helen is basically in the same situation. Paris is just basically having Aphrodite strongarm Helen for him.

My Own personal feelings on Paris

A neat essay on how, narratively, the story fits into the themes of the whole Epic Cycle and the Iliad if Helen was actually kidnapped

Some stuff on Menelaus being a soft man in canon :3

My Own post delving somewhat into Helen's unwillingness with some text evidence

I recommend reading most of these (or at least the ones that intrigue you) and then I can chatter about these sillies below 🥹

So in canon, just for the Iliad and the Odyssey, Menelaus is often portrayed as a quiet, shy even, and I would even go so far as to call him gentle, man. (It's kind of a collective fanon headcanon that Menelaus is austistic coded based on his behavior in the texts) It's something really interesting that one of his epithet's is "War Loving" and yet, he's one of the more "peaceful" kings there.

Adrestus rolled out of the chariot beside the wheel, face down in the dirt. Menelaus, son of Atreus,                        stood there over him, holding his long-shadowed spear. Adrestus clutched Menelaus by the knees and begged: “Take me alive, son of Atreus—you’ll get good ransom. My father is a wealthy man, owns lots of things—bronze, silver, well-worked iron. So he’ll give you a splendid ransom, if he learns I’m by Achaean ships, alive.”                             Adrestus pleaded. Menelaus’s heart in his chest was moved. He was about to hand Adrestus to his attendant, to take back captive to the fast Achaean ships.           But then Agamemnon came running up to him, sharply criticizing Menelaus:  “Menelaus, you soft-hearted man, why are you sparing men’s lives like this? In your own home, Trojans treated you exceptionally well, did they not? So don’t let any one of them evade a terrible destruction at our hands— not even the young child still carried in his mother’s belly. Let no one escape.                         Let everyone in Troy be slaughtered, without pity, without leaving any trace.”    

(Book 6, Johnston)

Like the main reason WHY Menelaus is fighting this war in the first place and fighting so hard, is because he just wants Helen back. Literally the most "violent" we've seen Menelaus is, imo, during his fight with Paris, the man who kidnapped Helen and is forcing himself upon her. As he literally starts DRAGGING Paris by his helmet on the ground. And when Paris offers Treasure in place of Helen, Diomedes' declines on his (and technically all the other Achaeans') behalf as Menelaus was injured.

And if you've looked at the bolded links I put above, you'll see how Helen also desperately does not want to be there and just wants to go back home, missing Menelaus and their daughter, Hermione.

And with Helen, she literally basically tells Paris that since he would've lost the fight with Menelaus, therefore would've been killed, if not for Aphrodite, that he should kill himself because that's what's honorable.

“You’ve come back from the fight. How I wish   you’d died there, killed by that strong warrior who was my husband once. You used to boast you were stronger than warlike Menelaus,  more strength in your hands, more power in your spear. So go now, challenge war-loving Menelaus to fight again in single combat. I’d suggest you stay away. Don’t fight it out man to man with fair-haired Menelaus, without further thought. You might well die, come to a quick end on his spear.”  

(Book 3, Johnston)

I honestly fucking love how Helen straight up says to Paris' face that she wished Menelaus killed him. Deserved.

In some ways, I think Paris is a very neat contrast to Menelaus in how Paris left his wife and child behind to start a life with a new "better" wife, while Menelaus is willing to go to war to bring the wife he loves so much back home, safe and happy, with him. Menelaus can't even think of the idea of just "starting anew".

And in the Odyssey, it's just... It's just so sweet seeing how these two interact when Telemachus goes to Sparta to talk to them. Helen is no longer in tears, and while she's still dealing with her self-loathing and guilt, so does Menelaus. They share this burden together and are very gentle with each other. The way she's back to being so happy and hosting as a happy Queen and wife should, is so SO different from how we see Helen in the Iliad, as she's finally happy, safe, and at home. 😭

Like, please look at how silly these two are when they see Telemachus:

Right away she started speaking to her husband, asking him some detailed questions:                                   “Do we know, my divinely cherished Menelaus, who these two men who’ve come into our home claim to be? Shall I speak up and pretend, or shall I tell the truth? My heart tells me                            I must be frank. I can’t say I’ve ever seen                            someone who looks so much like someone else, whether man or woman. When I see it, I’m amazed—this man looks just like the son of brave Odysseus—I mean Telemachus, who, when he left home, was a new-born child, when, because I’d acted so disgracefully, you Achaeans all sailed away to Troy, your hearts intent on brutal warfare.” Fair-haired Menelaus then answered her and said: “This likeness you’ve just noticed, my dear wife,               I’ve seen, as well. His feet are similar, as are his hands, the glances from his eyes,                                              his head, and his hair on top. And just now, as I was remembering Odysseus, discussing all the troubles he’d endured because of me, he let a bitter tear fall from his eyes and raised the purple cloak across his face.”

(Book 4, Johnston)

Like??? She feels free to speak and state her mind because she IS free with Menelaus. She feels respected and loved in her own house and is the queen to his king and slkdjf kljdsfalj THEY'RE HAPPYYYYYY

In the Odyssey also, it was she who interpreted the omen that Telemachus and Pesistratus even though Menelaus was asked to interpret it! ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF HER HAPPILY BEING A QUEEN AND HER AND HER WORDS BEING RESPECTED.

Menelaus, for all his warlike qualities, was at a loss to give him the correct interpretation, and his beautiful wife forestalled him. 'Listen,' she said, 'while with such inspiration as I have I explain this omen and what I feel sure that it portends. [...]

(Book 15, E.V. Rieu)

LOOK AT EURIPIDES' HELEN

Like to me, these two in canon are kind of "opposites attract" while OdyPen are "Likeminded". As Helen is definitely one to chatter more and Menelaus is perfectly fine letting Helen talk for him.

And while young, Menelaus and Agamemnon after their father, Atreus, was killed by their uncle, they had to flee Mycenae to stay safe and were exiled. And where did they stay during this time?

In Sparta, WITH TYNDAREUS AND LEDA, HELEN'S PARENTS >:3

And with most depictions of Menelaus and Odysseus when getting married to Helen and Penelope, both are usually beardless, implying youth/same age. So I love the idea of them being childhood friends to lovers. (that's just MY interpretation though) It's part of the reason why Helen picked him out of all the suitors (though yeah, another interpretation)

AND look at this depiction of them reunitiing!!!

So for the context for this specific version/interpretation of them reuniting, he has just killed Deiphobus, Paris' brother that Helen went to after Paris died, (Troy was fated to fall, if Helen was returned, Menelaus and the other Achaeans would go home and Troy would be left alone, so... Fate interfered with Helen even possibly going home) and she was in the room when it happened. Helen, being somewhat scared that Menelaus would try to kill her, started to run. (That's Helen on the Right, the left is supposed to be Aphrodite, who, while she did keep Helen in Troy for Paris, is still the goddess of love. So that's why she's there.)

BUT LOOK HOW HE TOSSED HIS SWORD TO THE SIDE TO RUN TO HER?! 😭

In general, I love the dynamics that play into their relationship AND how their relationship even plays with other characters like OdyPen. I'm not as detailed with their lives as I am with my OdyPen, they're still heavily involved in my ideas and they're all very close. They go on double dates!

Heck, since I have the whole "childhood friends" stuff in my stuff, Helen, Menelaus, Penelope, Castor, and Deiphobus all grew up together and were kind of a goofy lil crew :3 (I have aged up Clytemnestra to work with my Agamemnon more with how I have my timeline work out :') The timeline is a mess and this is how I'm making it work)

Like, My OdyPen are my "Freak4Freak, Likeminded, ADHD, squirming, wriggling, giggling, nuzzling noses and constantly moving and chattering" couple while my MenHelen are my "Slow and relaxed, long kisses, Helen chatters while Menelaus listens, Menelaus is Helen's weighted blanket person who eases her anxiousness with his quiet demeanor, staring at each other with big eyes." couple 🥹

Snippets of my goobers being affectionate in their own special way, my OdyPen one from my one longfic and my MenHelen is just a snippet I wrote recently.

OdyPen squirm and wriggle while MenHelen stare at each other with big eyes and are each others safe place.

My dear friend, @thehelplessmortals (One of MenHelen's super fans! Check em out if you're even more curious about them! they have their own fanart and headcanons for them too!) doodled my version of the goobers being silly. My Helen is Chubby and 6'4 (Zeus' child and most beautiful woman in the world) and she likes to wrestle, and Menelaus is 6'2, she can pick him up >:3

"DAD, I WANT THIS ONE!"

Also~ Here's my list of Odyssey translations I've gathered :3 Feel free to pick one if you ever wanna read the actual text.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Unbirthday

A/N: Although I am now two entire weeks late (I am the actual worst) this was written as a birthday gift for @something-tofightfor, because she is the fucking best and I love her guts. Rachael, I hope you enjoy this silly little story. Since Frankie Morales is apparently a "fictional character" and isn't "real" I couldn't wrap him up and send him to you, so this was the best I could do. Sorry it became an unbirthday gift - but it sort of works with the story that way. Anywho, here's hoping that this trip around the sun is a GOOD one!

And if it's your unbirthday today, happy unbirthday to you, too!

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: alcohol, and Frankie's shoulders and back making a shirt work very hard.

Summary: Spending your birthday in a brand new city goes from zero to sixty thanks to a co-worker who is determined to become a friend... and thanks to the breathtakingly handsome guy she introduces you to.

You had only been at your new job for a few weeks when your birthday rolled around, so when you walked into your office and flicked the lights on that morning, you were shocked to find a balloon tied to your chair and a white bakery box holding an assortment of cupcakes atop your desk. 

What? Who did th-

“Surprise!” 

You spun around to see a handful of your co-workers gathered in the doorway behind you, bright smiles on their faces as they wished you a happy birthday. 

“Oh, shit!” You let out a laugh as your hand came up to cover your mouth, prompting more laughs from the others. 

This is so nice, I wasn’t... Despite the fact that on your very first day at the firm, the office had been celebrating someone else’s birthday, you hadn’t expected anything for yours. Because I’m still brand new here, they hardly know me. You got along well almost immediately with the people you worked with, which was fantastic. Still, the fact that they embraced you quickly enough that they would want to do something for your birthday came as a genuine surprise that gave you a small rush of warmth. 

Not that you needed it. January in Tampa was certainly not January in the midwest. You hadn’t felt a chill since you took the transfer, a fact that you made sure to text your shivering friends back home every few days. But even though it was a balmy 68°F and you were wearing short sleeves under your light sweater, the added warmth of your colleagues’ kindness was more than welcome.  

Dropping your hand, you beamed at the group which had grown by two more associates from the interior architecture department down the hall, Mel and Casey. “Thank you all so much! You guys really didn’t have to do anything at all. I-” 

“Oh, stuff it, of course we did!” Gloria, whose office shared a glass partition with yours and with whom you traded exaggerated expressions while on client calls, stepped forward and threw her arms around you. “You’re the best transfer this office has ever had, we lucked out when we got you! Of course we’re going to celebrate your birthday.” 

You chuckled, giving her a quick, loose hug in return. “Gloria, did you do this? Also, weren’t you a transfer from the New York office?” 

“I was. Like I said,” she released you and stepped back, grinning. “You’re the best transfer we’ve had. Happy birthday, Ohio.” 

The rest of the group called out individual well-wishes before filing back to their own offices and cubicles, leaving just you and Gloria.

“Thank you,” you said again, reaching out to quickly squeeze her arm. “It really means a lot to me.” You sighed, finally putting down your bag and shrugging off your sweater. “I’ve been loving living down here, but the past few days, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been a little homesick. I don’t usually do a ton for my birthday, but this is the first one where I won’t see any of my family or my friends from back home so…” You gestured to the bakery box sitting next to your keyboard. “This was just really nice of you.” 

“You’re welcome.” She scrunched her nose. “Thanks for being ten thousand times better to work with than that dipshit you replaced, Kevin.” 

You snorted. Though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the notorious Kevin, you’d heard enough about him to know that his presence in the office was definitely not missed. “No problem, though from what I understand it’s a very low bar.” 

“Which you leap over with the ease and grace of a…” She circled her hand through the air. “A… Oh, I don’t know, whatever the hell leaps gracefully. I’m a landscape architect, not a poet.” 

That made you laugh again. “Speaking of which,” you pointed at your computer screen. “Are you ready for that conference call with the city planner? J.R. approved our designs, so-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she cut you off, nodding. “All set. Designs for the new park. Not looking forward to dealing with Sweetheart McGee, but-” You rolled your eyes as she used the nickname you’d given to one of the men you’d been working with from the city planner’s office who called the to of you “sweetheart” every time you’d spoken to him. “But it should be a smooth call. More importantly, though-” 

You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was coming next wasn’t, in fact, more important than the biggest project that the landscape department had in house at the moment. Gloria had a tendency to use the phrase “More importantly, though…” to segue into a conversation about whether or not you wanted to get coffee delivered or which shoes you thought she should wear to her cousin’s wedding or if you thought Greg from IT was cute or not because she could totally set you up with him if you did.

And you were proven right as she finished her sentence. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Nah. I’ll probably just order in and finally finish unpacking the last of my stuff from the move. There’s a sushi place around the corner from me that I’ve been meaning to try, so… Why are you looking at me like that?” 

The way she was looking at you was a mix of the way you might look at the last puppy in the window at the pet store, combined with the confusion one might display while trying to solve an extremely advanced math equation. 

“Because you cannot just go home and eat sushi by yourself on your birthday.” She held up her hand then, face returning to a neutral expression. “Unless that’s actually what you want to do. And if it is, I won’t judge.” But? “Buuuuut.” She pressed her lips together. “If you want to get out and do something fun? 

You cocked your head to the side. Maybe. There was no harm in seeing what she had in mind. If it wasn’t your speed you still had your backup plan. And I should really get that shit unpacked, but… It doesn’t have to be tonight. “What are you suggesting?”

Gloria’s eyes lit up as you asked, her smile widening. “Well, Benny’s… You met my boyfriend, Benny, last week when he picked me up, remember?” You did, so you nodded. “It’s actually one of his and his brother’s friends’ birthday today, too, or, it was yesterday, but they’re going out tonight because one of them was working last night I think? I don’t know. My point is, it’s just going to be a casual thing down at Duffy’s, and if you want to join, you absolutely should.”

You were about to decline when you asked yourself why you shouldn’t go. 

First of all, you seemed to be on the fast track for an out of office friendship with Gloria. The two of you clicked right away, and though you’d only spent time with her out of work once, you could easily see it happening more and more. And I want that. You had solid friendships back home and scattered far and wide, and those people meant the world to you. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to form a few friendships in your new home, too. 

There was also the fact that the bar she’d mentioned, Duffy’s, was only a few miles from your place. It was actually where you and your sister went for drinks after she helped you move the last of your things into your condo. She’d driven down with you to keep you company on the trip, then taken a flight back home. But before she did, the two of you spent a day exploring your new neighborhood and ended up at Duffy’s. Though you were excited about your new job and the new start in a new place, you were still a little unsure if you’d made the right decision. But when you walked into the well-loved and weathered beach bar that night, something told you that everything was going to work out just as it should. 

And if for some reason that harmonious feeling you got upon entering Duffy’s was a one time thing, you could leave and be home in under eight minutes. And tomorrow’s Saturday, so… Fuck it. 

“You know what?” You nodded, a grin curving up your cheek. “That sounds great, Gloria.” 

She let out a small gasp and clapped her palms together once. “You’ll come?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded again, your grin growing into a full blown smile. “What time?” 

 “Ah! I’m so happy!” She genuinely was, and it made you feel good to know that she was looking forward to getting to know you outside of work. “I think Benny said nine, but I’ll ask him to be sure and then get back to you.” She clapped her hands together again and sucked in a breath as though something just occurred to her. “Oh! And you’ll get to meet Yovanna! I told you about her I think? Anyway, she’s dating Santi, one of the guys in the group. She’s great, you’ll like her.” Gloria chuckled. “And she’ll like you, too.” 

“I hope so!” And if not or if it’s awkward because they’re friends and I’m new… I can just go. 

“No, she will, trust me.” Gloria furrowed her brow and nodded. “You two are actually pretty similar.” She smirked. “You don’t take shit and neither does she.” The slightest hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes as another thing dawned on her. “Wait, two of the guys are very single right now and one of them-” You were trying to stop her right there because you weren’t looking for a setup, but she didn’t let you, simply speaking just a touch louder so all you could do was laugh. “One of them is Benny’s brother, and the other is-” 

You finally got her to stop by waving your arms and forming them into an X shape, still laughing. “Gloria. Stop. I’ll come out because it sounds fun. But I’m not looking for a matchmaker.” 

She held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish smile in place. “Fine. I’m just trying to give you all the information ahead of time.” She winked. “Just in case.” 

“Okay.” You winked back, giving her a thumbs up. “Consider me briefed.” 

Before Gloria could say anything else, Mel’s voice came through the speaker on your desk phone, saying your name. You pressed the button that let you respond. “What’s up, Mel?” 

“Brandon Grant from the city planner’s office is on line one for the conference call with you and Gloria.” From across the room you heard Gloria groan, then looked up to watch her mouth “Sweetheart McGee already?” with a sickly frown on her face, and you had to close your eyes and cover your mouth so you wouldn’t snort into the speaker. “Can I put him through?” 

You cleared your throat and shot Gloria a look. “Can you just give me one minute before you put him on? Tell him I’m on the other line, just so I can log in and get the project files open and get situated.” 

“No problem,” Mel answered. “He’s early, anyway. Just buzz me back when you’re ready.” 

Thanking Mel, you clicked the button to end the call and then let your hands fall against your lap as you faced Gloria. “Alright, you ready to get this over with?” 

“We are really going to deserve those drinks after dealing with this guy.” She sighed, then headed for the door, only to appear a second later on the other side of the glass wall. She sat at her desk and started up her computer, then looked over at you and nodded once. 

You buzzed Mel back and then you were on the line with Brandon Grant, the man stepping right into his nickname upon greeting. 

“Good morning, sweetheart, how you doing today?” 

You cringed, forcing a smile into your voice as you answered. “Oh, you know! Another day in paradise! Are you ready to go over the landscape designs for the new park?” 

For the next hour you and Gloria took Brandon through the possible layouts, explaining why certain plants and elements were chosen, and answering all of his questions while simultaneously keeping a count of how many times he referred to either of you as “sweetheart”. By the time you hung up, the count had reached twelve and he’d thrown in a “hun” as a bonus. 

We definitely deserve those drinks tonight.

But even though he was a pain in the ass to deal with, Sweetheart McGee has chosen one of the three designs you’d proposed, and as long as it was approved by the city council, it would be your first project to move into construction since switching locations. Which is pretty cool. 

You sighed, leaning back in your desk chair as you peeled the paper off of one of the cupcakes from the box your co-workers had left you, reading over your calendar to see what was next on your schedule. Taking a bite, you hummed in satisfaction. Damn, that’s good. 

It was only ten in the morning, but it was already proving to be a better birthday than you hoped for. As much as you tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but feel excitement about the prospect of going out later that night. 

Because… It means I could really have a life here. Not just a job. Friends and good times and… You really didn’t want Gloria to try to set you up with anyone. But if it happened naturally? 

Well, if that were the case, you’d be open to anything. 

Sometime after your lunch break, Gloria heard back from Benny and confirmed the time with you, the woman insisting that you let them pick you up despite your protests about how close the bar was to your place. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” You tried one last time. “I don’t mind driving myself, and I don’t want to intrude on your date night or anything.” 

Gloria waved you off and clicked her tongue. “It’s not date night, it’s birthday drinks with friends. I promise you Benny doesn’t mind, and I definitely don’t.” 

Oh, what the hell? It was clear that Gloria was trying to make sure that you felt included, even though you wouldn’t know anyone there aside from her and her boyfriend, whom you’d only exchanged a few words with. You appreciated how welcoming and inviting she was, and knew that she meant well, having been new to the area herself only a year earlier. I can still call an Uber if I have to leave early, and that way I don’t have to worry about having more than two drinks. 

“Okay,” you said, finally giving in with a sigh full of faux exasperation that turned into a laugh. “You win!” You told her that you would text her your address, and then Mel was calling you through the intercom, letting you know that another of your clients was waiting on line one. 

“And I have Annie Fulton from Florida Polytechnic on line two for Gloria,” Mel added. “So if you could tell her to leave you alone and get back to her own desk that would be swell.”

Snorting out a laugh, you looked over at the co-worker who was quickly becoming a friend, only to find that she was laughing, too. “Well,” you said, “You heard Mel. Get out of here.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” She backed out the door, calling out one last thing before she was visible on the other side of the glass wall again. “Can’t wait for later!” 

As you prepped the files for your next call, you realized that you couldn’t wait for later, either.

– – – 

Pope and Yovanna were just getting out of their car when Frankie turned into the lot at Duffy’s, his truck’s headlights sweeping across the other parked cars to reveal that both Millers, as well as a few guys he worked with down at the airfield, were already inside. 

Gang’s all here, I guess. 

He pulled into the spot next to Pope, the other man waving at him through the windshield, his free arm wrapped around Yovanna’s waist. She waved, too, giving him a smile that brightened her whole face. Turning off the ignition, he waved in return, then glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, removing his hat and smoothing his hair down before yanking it back down over his curls. 

Good enough. Not trying to impress anyone anyway. 

As soon as he opened his door, he was greeted by Pope’s voice. “Ahí está el viejo!” 

Before Frankie could respond, Yovanna smacked Santi on the arm. “And who are you calling old, hmm? Estás pisándole sus talones.” Frankie laughed at that, reaching past Pope to give Yovanna a hug first. “Happy Birthday, Francisco,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he replied, grinning at her as they separated. He turned to face his friend then, giving him a nod. “And she’s right, pendejo. You’re catching up. If I’m old, what does that make you?” 

“Still younger than you,” Pope responded with a chuckle, slapping Frankie’s back before slinging an arm around him. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Frankie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s get inside before Benjamin comes looking for us.” 

The night out was happening at Benny’s insistence. Up until two days earlier, Frankie had no birthday plans and he had been just fine with that. Forty three wasn’t exactly a major milestone. And with the way things had only just started to really settle following their return from South America - the reinstatement of his pilot’s license, the finalization of his divorce, getting shared custody of his daughter - he hadn’t had time to think about smaller, more trivial things. Least of all, celebrating his own forty third birthday. 

But Benny claimed that a new beginning at the end of the shitstorm was the perfect time to celebrate. 

Which Frankie thought sounded a little like one of Will’s speeches blended with Benny’s optimism and garnished with a twist of Pope’s persuasiveness, but at the same time, he kind of saw the point that his friend was trying to make. 

It’s less about my birthday and more about… He swallowed, flexing his right hand and then loosening it and letting it fall to his side. More about everything that comes after. 

The after. That was something that Frankie could readily celebrate. The fact that he, that all four of them, had survived the biggest mistake that any of them had ever made and could still fill their lives with good things, big and small. That was something he could drink to. 

Besides, it’s not actually my birthday today. It was yesterday. 

That didn’t stop Benny from letting the whole bar think otherwise. 

“Hey! Happy Birthday, Fish!” The younger of the Miller brothers exclaimed as Frankie, Pope and Yovanna stepped inside. He raised both arms, a full pitcher in one hand and a stack of empty glasses in the other. Behind him, Frankie saw Will stand from a table where he had been sitting with Gloria before making his way over to say hello as Yovanna made her way over to take Will’s place at the table. But who is that other woman? 

You turned then, laughing at something that Gloria had said. And even though he could only see half of your face from the angle of where you were sitting, he felt an instant attraction at the way that laugh brightened your eyes. I don’t know who she is, but I want to. 

“There he is,” Will said, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Happy birthday, Morales. What are you now, sixty? Sixty five?” 

“Cool it, Ironhead, I’m only three years older than you.” Frankie responded, feigning offense and shrugging Will’s hand away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will laughed as Benny passed a full beer to Frankie. “We’re all on our way to the old folks home.” 

“Speak for yourselves,” the younger man interjected, filling and passing a glass to Pope, too. “Gloria and I are still thriving in our thirties, so-” 

“So that means you’re paying for drinks?” Pope chimed in through a smirk as he gripped his glass. “Wow. How generous of you, Benny.” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha.” Setting the pitcher down, he raised his own glass and the other three followed suit. “To Frankie. Cheers to being another year wiser than these wiseasses.” He cocked his head in Will and Pope’s direction. 

“Now hold on a minute, Ben, I-” 

But Frankie didn’t let Pope get the rest of his protest out before clinking his glass to the three that were waiting. “No, I think that was a perfect toast. Thanks, Benny.” He took a swig of his drink, and even though he hadn’t really wanted to come out, he was already glad that he had. Nights out with the guys weren’t rare occasions, not by a long shot. But he was still grateful that he got to have them. And tonight’s just getting started. 

Yuri and Ed from the airfield filed over then to wish Frankie a happy birthday, followed by a few other friends and acquaintances that Benny and Will had spread the word to. After about an hour of mingling, he finally made his way over to the table where the rest of the group was sitting, dropping into a seat next to Gloria. 

“Happy birthday, Frankie!” She spoke over the music and chatter as she leaned over to give him a loose hug. 

“Thank you, Glo.” He smiled at her as he pulled back. “It’s nice to see you, thanks for coming out.” 

She waved a hand as she reached for the handle of the pitcher, Benny scooching it towards her without breaking from the conversation he was having with Will and Pope. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” She poured herself a half glass of beer, then wordlessly asked if he wanted a refill, too. 

Nodding, he held his glass in place. “Thanks,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder as she topped him off. “Hey who did I see you talking to before?” And where is she now?

A mischievous grin stretched across her lips as she looked up at him and set the pitcher on the table. What is that look for? “A friend from work,” she responded, telling him your name. “A single friend,” she added.

Frankie huffed out a short laugh. “I’m not- I didn’t-” 

“I know you didn’t.” Gloria winked at him. “I just want you to have all the information,” she added, knocking the rim of her glass to his. 

“Well…” He raised his glass to his lips, smiling behind it. Well… That’s good to know. “Okay.” 

“Oh! And it’s her birthday, too, so I invited her out.” 

What? And she didn’t have other plans? “Oh. Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, setting his drink on a cardboard coaster and letting his fingers slide down the chilled glass. “The more the merrier.” 

He looked up and in the direction of the restrooms just as you and Yovanna came through the hallway that led to them, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. Fuck, she’s beautiful. He felt his smile grow again at the sight of you, especially when he noticed your slight intake of breath as your eyes met his. He watched Yovanna say something into your ear that made you cover your face and laugh, and then she raised her hand to wave at him. 

I wonder what she said to her. He raised one eyebrow along with his hand as you dropped yours from your face. The remnants of your laughter were still written all over your cheeks and again he felt an undeniable pull, a desire to get to know you. Because I want to see that smile again. And I want to put it there. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Pope tapping the table in front of him. “Hey, ground control to Catfish.” Frankie blinked, turning his attention back to his friends. “You’re not going deaf on us, are you? I asked if you’re in.” 

Picking up an unused coaster, he flung it like a frisbee at Pope, who batted it down in one smooth motion. “Just selectively.” 

“Ha, ha.” Pope rolled his eyes. “So does that mean you don’t want to go to the Lightning game on Wednesday?” 

“The Lightning?” Frankie took a sip of his beer, eyebrows drawn together. “Since when are you a hockey fan? Do you even know anything about hockey?”

“Oh, believe me, he does not.” Yovanna laughed as she dropped into the booth bench next to Pope, her arm going around his shoulders so that her fingers could card through the hair that curled behind his ear. He turned to face her, both of them wearing ear to ear grins. “We watched the game last night and he had no clue what was going on the whole time.” 

“I didn’t,” he admitted, garnering snickers and snorts from both Miller brothers. “But I’m learning.” He shrugged. “The tickets are from work. We just signed a contract with Amalie Arena so I’ll get tickets a few times a year. So I figured why not broaden my horizons?” 

“It’s not the easiest game to understand right away, but if you give it a few games and actually pay attention, you’ll catch on.” Another voice joined the conversation then, and everyone turned towards where you stood at the edge of the table. “I have a friend who’s a big fan so I’ve watched a few games with her.” Giving a small shake of your head, you laughed. “I still don’t know all the rules. It’s a wild sport, but it’s fun.” 

“See?” Pope gestured at you with one hand. “I don’t have to know the rules to have fun.” 

“Oh, good.” Frankie placed his palm flat on the table. “So your short attention span should be just fine then.” His friend’s response was to flip him the bird, the rest of the table laughing before falling back into conversation as Frankie stood and faced you. “Hi, sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself yet. I’m Francisco.” He shook his head. “Frankie. Let me grab you a chair.”  

– – – 

You hadn’t even finished your first drink yet, so you knew the rush of warmth you felt in that moment had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with Frankie’s slightly lopsided smile. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. He pulled a chair away from an empty table and plopped it next to his. And chivalrous. 

“Thank you.” You sat, returning his smile with one of your own, and telling him your name as Gloria slid your glass across the table from where you were sitting before to your new seat between Frankie and Yovanna. “And happy birthday.” You lifted your drink in his direction before taking a sip. “Thanks for letting me crash your plans.” 

“Thank you.” His grin spread wider, lifting his cheeks into his eyes. “Happy birthday to you, too.’ He tipped his drink so that he could clink the rim of his glass to yours. “And you’re welcome. I’m glad Gloria invited you.” 

Your eyes darted over just in time to see Gloria shoot you a wink over Frankie’s shoulder. “Yeah,” you said, still smiling, your heart beating just a blip faster. “Me too.” 

Over the next hour and a half that became even more true as you fell easily into conversation with the group. Gloria had been right about you and Yovanna clicking, and the guys were just as easy to get along with. Since there were other people there for Frankie’s birthday than just the seven seated at the table, he got up a few times to go spend some time with them, too, but each time he came back he returned his focus to you, either commenting on something that you were telling the others, or asking you questions if you weren’t part of the larger conversation happening. 

You told him about your job at the architecture firm, and about the transfer that brought you down to Tampa in the first place. Will and Benny chimed in when you talked about how different winter was where you were from, the Indiana born brothers claiming that they’d love to see Frankie or Santi shovel their way out of a Midwest blizzard. 

“Why?” Frankie grimaced. “That just sounds like it hurts.” 

You’d laughed at that, nodding. “It does. I love the snow and I don’t really mind shoveling but…” You sighed. “I won’t miss the whole body aches after doing it.” 

“Facts,” Gloria agreed, nodding sagely. “Shoveling snow is not fun or easy.”

“You lived in a co-op building in Queens, Glo,” Benny responded, tightening the arm he had around her and giving her a skeptical side eye. “You didn’t have to shovel anything.” 

“I did not,” she confirmed. “But I watched the snow removal guys and they definitely did not look like they were enjoying themselves.” 

Everyone laughed at that, and then the conversation branched in a different direction. But Frankie didn’t follow it, turning to you and circling back to your recent move. “So aside from the weather, are you liking it down here?”

Smiling, you nodded. “I am. I’m still getting my feet under me. Learning where things are and which take out spots are good and all that.” 

Frankie hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try Tino’s on Gateway Boulevard if you like burritos,” he suggested. “And if you like sushi you should try Ginkaku on-” 

“-North Evans?” You asked the location at the same time that he said it, your eyes widening. What are the odds? “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to try there.” You chuckled under your breath. “I was actually going to stop there tonight on my way home from work, but then Gloria told me I couldn’t spend my birthday eating sushi alone, so…”

You trailed off as someone near the bar called over to Frankie, telling him that they had to get going. He twisted in his seat to respond, saying that he’d be over in a second, and you found yourself staring at the way the movement made the fabric of his shirt stretch over his broad back. Damn. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Gloria and Yovanna giving each other looks that you were fairly certain had to do with the way you were looking at Frankie, but you didn’t care because when he turned around again, his deep brown eyes locked with yours and nearly knocked you sideways. 

“Sorry, I just have to go say goodbye to a buddy of mine from work, and-” 

“No, don’t apologize! Of course.” You cocked your head towards the bar. “Go ahead, Frankie, I’ll be here when you get back.” 

He took a breath, then swallowed and nodded, eyes still on you as he stood from his seat. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned and headed over to the bar, and you were met with a view of his back again. 

Tearing your eyes away in an attempt to be more subtle about your attraction to a man you had met less than two hours ago, you cleared your throat and finished your drink. 

Your attempt was for naught, though, because even though Gloria was engaged in an intense conversation with Benny, Will and Santi, Yovanna was looking at you with a smirk. “I told you,” she said, one eyebrow raised as she lifted her drink to her lips. “I saw the way he looked at you before. He’s definitely interested.” 

I hope she’s right. Heat flooded your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and you knew you likely looked flustered, but you shook your head and let out a scoff. “I- He… Yovanna, I’m sure it’s just-” You shrugged. “A birthday hookup or-” 

Her head moved side to side then, her dark curls swinging from her ponytail. “No. That’s not Francisco.” She glanced over at Santi, the man throwing his head back in laughter and clapping Will on the shoulder, a warm smile that softened her sharp eyes on her face when she turned back to you. “The two of them are very much alike. They don’t waste their time on things that they don’t think will be around tomorrow.”

As though on cue, Santiago leaned over to press a kiss to Yovanna’s cheek. “You good?” He murmured the words against her skin before pulling away. She turned to nod, scrunching her nose. “We’ll get going soon, yeah?” She nodded again, the man dropping another kiss to the opposite cheek. “Okay.” 

He turned back to the others then, but you noticed that his hand stayed on her thigh as she returned her focus to you, saying your name. “I know that you just met me tonight, too, but you can trust me on this. Besides-” She tapped her phone and you looked down at the time on the screen. “Tonight is not really his birthday, and it’s almost not yours anymore, either. So it can’t just be a birthday hookup.” She widened her eyes and pressed her lips together, reaching for the pitcher in the middle of the table. “I’m going to have one more drink. Do you want one?” 

Before you could respond, you felt the weight of Frankie’s grip on the back of your chair as he lowered himself back into his own seat. But it was the trail of his fingertips across your shoulder as he withdrew his hand that made you suck in a breath and wonder if Yovanna was right. Realizing that you hadn’t answered her question, you blinked and nodded. “Um, sure. Just half a glass, though.” 

Because if she’s right? I definitely want to stay clear headed for whatever might happen. 

You thanked her as she poured for you, and then turned to Frankie, licking your lips as you smiled. “Did you catch your friend before they left?” 

“I did.” He said it with a nod, then tilted his head to the side. What? Narrowing his eyes, he opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, taking a breath instead of speaking. What is he- But then he straightened his head again and you saw - and felt - his eyes flick to your lips and then back up. Oh, shit, he- “So you said that you were originally planning on checking out that sushi place tonight but Gloria said you couldn’t spend your birthday eating sushi alone, right?” 

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and nodded. “Yeah.” And I’m glad I listened to her. 

He sighed then and you got the feeling that he was working himself up to say something. “Well,” he let out a sheepish laugh and reached up to grip the back of his neck, thick fingers nudging the edge of his hat. “That place is open ‘til 2 on the weekends. If you’re hungry, we could go grab a bite.” Wait, is he… Is he asking me out? He shrugged, dropping his hand and giving you the same lopsided grin he gave you when he introduced himself to you. “That way you won’t be going by yourself and-” 

You poked your tongue into the side of your cheek. “And technically by the time we get there it won’t even be my birthday anymore, so-” 

Frankie nodded, grin spreading. “So Gloria won’t have a leg to stand on.” 

A thousand tiny butterflies swarmed through your stomach at the thought of spending more time with Frankie one on one. Oh, I am so fucked. Taking a breath, you looked at him and what you saw only confirmed that thought. Frankie was the most attractive man you’d ever been this close to. And he’s asking me out. There was only one answer, as far as you were concerned. 

“That sounds great, Frankie.” You held up a finger. “On one condition.” He lifted an eyebrow in question, so you went on. “We take it back to my place to go, because I have a bunch of birthday cupcakes leftover from the office this morning, and-” 

He laughed, leaning in to rest his elbow on the table, getting close enough to say something that no one else would hear. “So you’re saying if I play my cards right, I might get to kiss frosting off your lips?” 

Oh, holy fucking shit, Frankie. 

You gasped then, Frankie pulling back to see the reaction on your face, the expression he was wearing one that you would remember for a long time. Finally, you cleared your throat and answered. “That is exactly what I’m saying, Francisco.” 

His eyes flashed when you used his full name, and with his next breath, though he was still looking at you, he addressed the rest of the table. “Hey guys, this has been fun, but I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

Within a few minutes the tab had been paid - Will, Benny and Santi insisting on splitting it between themselves - and goodbyes were said. But despite what Frankie had just said, you knew that your night was just getting started.

.

.

.

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[scented-morker]

CHAPTER SEVEN. Cuteness Aggression

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written chapter with texts/twt at the end! 900 words then 3 panels.. they’re awkward and that’s ok 🫶

“Yn?” “Yn!”

You cringe as the photographers outside the JYP building start yelling your name, recognizing you through the hat and mask combo you’d donned.

You keep your head down as you practically race through the front doors. Your company would have a field day with those pictures, and you partially hope Jeongin was right about their strange desire for coverage of your relationship.

“Yn!”

A few staff members heads snap up at the shout of your name, but it doesn’t bother you once met with the familiar face of Yang Jeongin.

Familiar may be too strong of a word, considering you’d still never talked in person yet, but regardless his presence was a comfort in the new environment.

“Jeongin, hi!” You speak softly as he approaches you, taking your mask down to send him a smile.

He wraps an arm around yours to escort you towards the elevator.

“The big bosses are on lunch break, have you eaten yet? We’re about to eat and we ordered enough if you want some. But you totally don’t have to. Do you have any allergies? I should have asked.”

Your head was lagging, still focused on where his arm was touching yours and the various fake plants and masked figures you were passing.

“Uh. What?”

Jeongin is looking expectantly at you, but his face softens as he watches your eyes dart around nervously.

“Are you hungry? We got lunch.”

Deep dimples pop out as he gives you a gentle smile, and you unconsciously smile back.

Has he always had that cute of a smile?

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He nods right as the elevator door opens, and this time you follow behind him as he walks through the long hallway, giving hi’s and nods of acknowledgment as people greet him.

You’re practically hiding behind him, but a few people notice you and bow respectfully.

He stops at the last door in the hallway and turns to you with a sheepish look on his face.

“Some of the other guys are in here, and it can get kinda crazy when we’re all together. Let me know if it gets too much and we can sneak out.”

You find yourself fighting a blush at his sincerity, and nod quickly.

He opens the door, entering first and taking the brunt of the reaction.

“Oooooooo”

“Our first couple in the practice room!”

“What a gentleman we raised.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes at all of them, smacking Hyunjin over the head as he passes to take a seat on the couch.

You catch Chan whisper shouting to all of them as you take a seat next to jeongin, and the group is much calmer when you finally drag your eyes back to them.

“Hi, yn! We’re excited to meet you, even with the weird circumstances.”

“Oh thank you! I’m excited to meet you guys.” You give Chan a smile, “and thanks for everything you’ve done with the companies for us. I haven’t been told much so without you and jeongin I’d be lost.”

Jeongin feels the sudden urge to ransack the SM building and also squeeze your hand, but he takes a deep breath instead and bumps your knee with his own.

“We got you.”

Jisung and Chan exchange looks as you and Jeongin grin at each other, but you’re brought back to the rest of the room when Hyunjin hands you a plate with food on it.

“You should eat, the meetings will resume in twenty minutes.”

You accept the food while Jeongin pouts.

“You get her a plate but not me?”

“You smacked me like 5 minutes ago! And yn is a guest.”

Jeongin goes to smack him again, but he stops mid motion and all of his attention shoots over to you when you speak.

“We can share. I’m not gonna eat all of this anyway. And what kind of girlfriend would I be if I let you starve.”

Your last sentence is quieter than the rest, and Jeongin is the only one close enough to hear it clearly.

It’s one thing to joke about it over text, but you weren’t quite ready to call him your boyfriend out loud and in front of his members, even if it was a joke.

He’s smiling when he drops his hand to accept the spring roll you hand him, and you burst out in laughter when he eats the whole thing in one bite.

“Oh my gosh what was that?”

It’s the loudest you’ve been since walking in the building, and it fills Jeongin with pride.

You enjoy lunch with the boys until Chans phone buzzes and he gets up, you and Jeongin both standing with him.

You tell the the other boys goodbye, taking your place next to Jeongin while the three of you exit the room.

“I assume they’ve been notified that you’re here by the reporters outside, so they might ask you guys to come in. Would you be comfortable with that? If not I’ll tell them respectfully to shove off.”

You laugh, “I would actually love to. I’m tired of hearing second hand about my career.”

An approving look crosses Chan’s face.

“Why don’t you just come in now then? Put you in control of the situation instead of them asking you.”

You look between the two boys.

“Isn’t that disrespectful?”

“Disrespectful is putting you in this position in the first place and then not having the decency to involve you in it.”

Jeongin’s jaw ticks, and it’s the scariest you’ve ever seen him look.

“What he’s trying to say is that you have every right to be here.”

You nod, “okay then.”

You don’t miss the wide eyes when you enter the room sandwiched between Chan and Jeongin, but when you take a seat and feel Jeongin’s hand give your own a squeeze, you find you don’t really care.

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[midnight-mourning]

300 Followers Special!

AGH IT HAPPENED AGAIN

was legit just checking through my blog and realized but at least i caught it in time!!

Thank you all so much! For this and for all the support everyone gives on the silly things I make. I know the last like, several months of this blog have been chaos (from posting often to nothing while I was sick to semi-daily in December etc. etc.) so I appreciate everyone sticking with me through it all very much <333

I'll admit there's.... a LOT going on right now (looks at my wips and at my research to-do list) BUT, i don't mind adding something to the list! It just might take a bit of time to get to it lol

Pulling from the 100 follower milestone celebration ideas that didn't get picked, as well as a few other things I came up with, will do the top two if results are close :D

BUT feel free to pick the 'other' option if you have soemthing else you'd like to see! I will do whatever since this is me saying thanks ^^

Little bit of info on each thing below the cut, excited to see what you pick!

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Writing Requests: same as all the other request things I've done, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) and will be about 500-1000 words each

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

AU Oneshot/Continuation: I take a oneshot I've written and add MORE to it in some way, anything that I've written is up for grabs (besides my multi-chap stories ofc) This includes my Promptober responses, DCA December, 'Secret' gifts I've done, and any other drabbles or such. Examples of times I've already done this would include Holiday Spirit (continuation of DCA December Day 7), and Restart (continuation of Promptober Day 29)

DIY the DCA: silly idea I've thought about where using my knowledge as an MechE I determine the costs of materials, equipment, etc. for what it would take to build the daycare attendant yourself, would it be completely accurate? probably not I am not an expert, would it be fun? yeah I fuckin love deep-diving on mcmastercarr for shit

Chekov's Gun Analysis Post: i explain and go line by line about ch. 15 of Confused Spirit and explain all the little callbacks, hints, etc., why i love it so much, and so on

Other: explained above, don't be shy to tell me if none of these sound interesting! Won't hurt my feelings :)

[kultklassickiller]

Prada You Chapter 15

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains underage drinking, age gap relationships.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 15: Division

The sunlight streamed through my bedroom window, warming the hardwood floor and catching on the gold bracelet still clinging to my wrist. I turned it over in my hand, the engraved words Belongs to a Prada Boi glinting in the light. It felt heavy—heavier than gold should. I had barely slept since Jey clasped it on, and now it seemed like a permanent reminder of everything I didn’t understand about him or what it required of me in return.

A knock rattled my bedroom door, and my mom’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Nye, I need help with these groceries. Get up.”

My stomach twisted. She couldn’t see this bracelet—not her. Panic surged as I fumbled with the clasp, finally yanking it free and shoving it into my pillowcase.

“Coming!” I called, grabbing a sweatshirt to cover my hurried movements.

When I opened the door, my mom stood there, one brow raised, her hands on her hips. “You’re moving slow today. You all right?”

“Yeah, Ma. Just tired. You know Kiyah kept me up all night,” I lied, brushing past her to avoid her sharp gaze.

She didn’t follow, but her voice trailed behind me. “You been sleeping over there a lot lately. Don’t think I don’t notice. I’m starting to think you like it over there more.”

I grabbed a bag of groceries from the counter, ignoring the sting of her words. My mom was sharp, and if I wasn’t careful, she’d cut right through the excuses I was using to shield her from the truth.

“It’s nothing like that, Ma. Kiyah just wants me over there so we can gossip all night. You know how her and her mama is.”

---

The next day, I met up with Kiyah, Natasha, and Nataya at Kiyah’s apartment. The box fan in the corner barely stirred the sticky summer air, but the loud R&B coming from Kiyah’s stereo kept the vibe lively.

“Okay, Nye,” Kiyah said, pausing mid-polish as she painted her toes neon orange. “What’s the deal? You’ve been holding out on us lately. You and Jey work shit out?”

I hesitated, biting my lip. They’ll never let me hear the end of this if I say what’s really been going on.

“So... Jey asked me to help plan a birthday party for one of the Prada Bois,” I said finally. “It’s for Tama, and it’s supposed to be this Friday.”

The room erupted.

“Wait, hold up. You’re throwing a Prada Boi party?” Natasha squealed, practically spilling her iced tea.

“Not throwing,” I corrected, laughing despite myself. “I’m just helping Jey make it memorable.”

“Girl, that’s throwing the party,” Kiyah said, snapping her gum. “And you know we’re coming. Don’t even play like we’re not.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I teased, though I knew they were coming regardless.

Nataya leaned back on the couch, her bracelets jingling as she adjusted her tank top. “What’s the theme?”

“Something classy but fun,” I said, reaching into my bag. “And speaking of classy...” I pulled out the bracelet, holding it up so it caught the light.

Kiyah’s jaw dropped. “Oh, he’s serious-serious. Let me see that.”

I handed it over, and she turned it over in her hands, her eyes wide. “This is official. Like, he stamped you. That’s crazy. Most hoes don’t get that far.”

Nataya smirked, lifting her own wrist. “Jimmy did the same thing last week. Different words, same vibe.”

Her bracelet read, “My Prada Girl.” I made note of how hers and mines differed.

“Y’all got me out here single and tragic,” Kiyah said, pouting. “I need a Prada Boi. Maybe Damian’s available. Perhaps Jacob but damn he got a lot kids. Like 14 of them.”

The mention of Damian made my stomach twist. I forced a laugh, but her words stuck with me long after the conversation moved on.

---

The next day, Jey surprised me with an invitation to the mall. He was in a rare, good mood, teasing me as we walked through the food court, sharing a chocolate-dipped cone from some ice cream place we passed by.

“You remember when we came here and people-watched?” he asked, grinning as he wiped a stray drip of ice cream from my chin.

I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, and you’d make up those ridiculous stories about everyone we saw.”

“Because I’m funny. Admit it,” he said, nudging me lightly.

“Sometimes,” I teased back, earning a playful glare.

We wandered into Macy's, where Jey immediately started pulling clothes from racks. He paused in front of a display and grabbed a crisp red Ralph Lauren collared shirt for himself. The bold red contrasted perfectly with black jeans he pulled off a nearby hanger, making the outfit sleek and sharp.

Then he turned his attention to me, his eyes scanning the racks until he found a red dress. He held it up, a smirk playing on his lips. “This is it. Short, tight, and classy. Just like you.”

The dress was undeniably striking. The smooth fabric hugged the mannequin’s frame, its bright red hue catching the light. The spaghetti straps and form-fitting design screamed confidence, while the slight slit up one side added an edge. “What do you think? We’ll shut it down at the party.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Red and black, huh? You really want to match?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “If we’re showing up together, we’re showing out together. Red and black is how we make a statement.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Fine. But only because you’re paying.”

At the register, Jey took my hand, his thumb brushing over the bracelet on my wrist. His voice dropped, serious now. “You know what this means, right?”

I glanced at him, my smile fading. “What?”

“It means you’re mine,” he said simply. “And I don’t take that lightly. You wearing this? That’s loyalty. That’s trust. And I don’t break that for nobody.”

The intensity in his eyes made my stomach flip. I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

He smiled then, softening. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Friday’s gonna be a movie, baby.”

As we walked out, hand in hand, I couldn’t help but wonder if this bracelet was a promise or a warning.

---

Friday night hummed with electricity. The venue, tucked behind tall iron gates and surrounded by luxury cars, was alive with the deep bass of music and the murmur of voices. The summer air clung to my skin as I stepped out of Jey’s BMW, his hand firmly gripping mine. My friends spilled out behind us, their excited chatter filling the warm night.

The glow from the venue bathed the sidewalk in warm shades of red and gold. My dress, a sleek red number that hugged every curve, felt like a second skin. My stiletto heels clicked against the pavement, every step a reminder to keep my composure. Jey’s arm slipped around my waist, grounding me in the moment.

“You ready to show ‘em how it’s done?” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

I forced a confident smile. “Always.”

Behind us, Kiyah let out an exaggerated gasp. “Y’all really came to shut it down. Nye, that dress is giving—don’t even look at me tonight.”

Natasha snickered, her braids swaying as she adjusted her crop top. “Girl, we all about to steal this party.”

Nataya, walking arm-in-arm with Jimmy, gave me a knowing look. Her bracelet caught the light, sparkling like a quiet declaration. “Just don’t let her outshine me, Jey. Jimmy would never let me live it down.”

Jimmy laughed, leaning down to kiss her temple. “You know you’re the real star, baby. Let ‘em have their moment.”

Jey smirked, nodding toward the door. “Let’s go. The night’s not waiting.”

---

Inside, the venue was a world of its own. Red lights cast a sultry glow over everything, while gold accents on the tables and walls shimmered like hidden treasure. A DJ spun 90s hip-hop and R&B, the beats vibrating through the floor. Waiters moved through the crowd like shadows, balancing trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

Tama, the birthday boy, sat at a central table surrounded by laughter and bottles of top-shelf liquor. His smile widened as he saw us approaching. Jey’s hand stayed firm on my waist as we navigated the crowd, my friends trailing close behind.

“Look at y’all,” Tama said, standing with his arms open. His chain caught the light, gleaming against his crisp black shirt. “Coordinated and killing it. Appreciate you putting this together, Nye.”

“Happy birthday,” I said, returning his grin. “Glad you like it.”

Nataya slid into a seat beside Jimmy, who handed her a glass of champagne with a smirk. Kiyah and Natasha lingered by the bar, where Jacob and Solo were already engaged in a heated conversation. I caught Kiyah tossing a flirty glance at Jacob, her laughter loud enough to turn heads.

Jey pulled me onto his lap as he sat, his arm draped casually over my thigh. The move earned a round of whistles from the table.

“She’s been running shit for this party,” Jey said, his voice loud enough to carry. “This wouldn’t have happened without her.”

“Okay, boss lady!” Solo teased, raising his glass in a mock toast.

The attention made me squirm, but Jey’s hand tightened on my leg, his grip a quiet reminder that I was his. I smiled through the discomfort, playing my part.

---

As the night wore on, the energy shifted. Drinks flowed freely, and the music seemed louder, more urgent. Near the bar, tensions simmered as Damian squared off with a tall man in an oversized black hoodie and heavy gold chain. His posture was rigid, his broad shoulders and clenched fists exuding barely restrained aggression. Their voices started low but sharp, cutting through the ambient noise.

“You didn’t deliver. Now you’re acting like it’s my fault,” the man growled, leaning toward Damian.

Damian didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his beer bottle, letting the condensation drip onto the floor as he stared the man down. “You don’t get to talk about delivery when you can’t even follow basic instructions,” he fired back, his voice calm but lethal.

The argument escalated, drawing a crowd. Conversations faltered, and heads turned as their voices grew louder.

“You think you can talk slick and not have consequences? Keep running your mouth and see what happens,” the man snapped, stepping closer.

Damian leaned in, his smirk a taunt. “Go ahead. Make it worth my time.”

Before it could boil over, Jey stumbled into the middle, his steps loose and unsteady. “Hey! Cut this shit out,” he slurred, throwing an arm between them. “We’re here to celebrate, not do this shit.”

The man hesitated, his fists flexing at his sides, but Damian’s jaw tightened. His gaze flicked to Jey, and the weight of his words hung in the air. “Maybe if you picked better people to trust, we wouldn’t be cleaning up their messes.”

The pointed remark hit like a slap. For a moment, Jey’s usual swagger cracked, and a flicker of vulnerability crossed his face. Tama stepped in quickly, his laugh light but firm. “Come on, y’all. Not tonight. This is my night. Let’s keep it cool.”

The man backed off first, muttering something under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. Damian lingered, his cold stare fixed on Jey before he finally walked away, his beer still in hand.

The confrontation ended without violence, but the tension lingered. I watched from the edge of the room, my chest tight. Jey’s world wasn’t just chaotic; it was a minefield, and I was standing too close to the blast zone.

---

Outside, the air was a welcome relief, cool against my heated skin. I leaned against the wall, trying to collect myself when Damian’s voice broke the silence.

“Needed a break too, huh?”

I turned to see him emerging from the shadows, his beer bottle dangling lazily in his hand. His gaze was sharp, his expression unreadable.

“Damian,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “What are you doing out here?”

“Same as you,” he said, his tone casual. “Getting some air.”

I crossed my arms, trying to steady myself. “What’s up?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving mine. “You really think you belong here, Nyeya?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot back, my voice defensive.

Damian stepped closer, his tone dropping. “This world ain’t built for girls like you. You think that bracelet makes you untouchable? It doesn’t. It just makes you a target. Makes it harder to leave like I told you to.”

I swallowed hard, refusing to let him see my unease. “I can handle myself.”

“Sure, you can,” he said, his smirk returning. Then, before I could react, he grabbed my arm, pulling me close. His lips brushed against mine in a brief, startling kiss.

I jerked back, my heart pounding. “Damian! What are you doing?”

Damian’s smirk deepened. “A reminder. You’re not as safe as you think you are with him. But with me.. you could be.”

He walked away, disappearing into the night. I stood there, shaken, before finally heading back inside. Jey was drunk, laughing loudly with Tama and Sami. Nataya caught my eye from across the room, her brow furrowing as she noticed my expression. She nudged Jimmy, but I shook my head, forcing a smile. Whatever had just happened, I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

As I sat back down beside Jey, his arm looped lazily around my shoulder, the bracelet on my wrist felt heavier than ever. The words Belongs to a Prada Boi seemed to echo in my mind, each letter a reminder of how deeply I was entangled.

---

Want to read from the beginning? Click Here

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[4klovver]

dancing in a jazz bar.

musicteacher!reader asks scienceteacher!matt to go out after work.

a/n: shes long again sorry!! I loved writing this even tho ive never written angst before, theres not much of it but its there!! I feel like I rambled so lmk in the comments Have fun reading hop you enjoy! This is PART 1 so yea! Contains; drinking, kissing, dancing, angst, crying!

wc; 2,270

After weeks of endless coffee runs, hanging out during free periods, sitting with each other in meetings, you finally had a great idea. 

“Let’s go out tonight!” you beam as you sit down. This idea came to you a couple of days ago. Matt was always so clean, no, professional…? You desperately wanted to see a new side of him, and this was just the answer. Matt looks at you weary; you know he’s not the “going out” type, but it’s worth a try. 

“Please, please, it would be so fun. I know his cute little bar with cute tables and a live jazz band.” You pause to look at him, and he’s just staring back at you thinking. “Matt, a live jazz band” You say, looking through your eyelashes at him. 

“Okay, fine. But I would still be in my work clothes.” He points down to his light blue button-down that’s rolled up to his elbows, and his dark work pants. 

“Matt, we’re going to a jazz bar; this is fine. I have to see if I have something else; this isn’t really ‘bar’.” You gesture to your frumpy sweater and work jeans. “I usually have concert stuff in my office…” the sentence trails off as you think about what you have. 

“I think what you’re wearing looks great; I don’t see a problem with this.” He says this so matter-of-factly like it’s  a fact in one of his biology textbooks. It makes you blush, and you don’t know how to hide it, so you just turn away. 

“Thanks, Matt, but I think I’m gonna change; meet me outside of my room after school, okay?” You pack up your stuff as you say this, and Matt gives you a small nod. You were excited; a night of drinking in a dimly lit jazz bar, maybe some dancing, with a cute guy. What else could a girl really ask for!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You did, in fact, change. It was a black halter dress with light blue embroidered flowers on it. It was casual enough to look like a coincidence. Even though you did bring this dress to school 2 weeks ago just in case this very plan worked out. 

“You did change; you look…” He trails off, not being able to find the words as you gather your purse and touch up your lip gloss. 

You turn to him smiling; he also changed. He’s now wearing a white button-down shirt with a black tie. It’s not a huge change, but he looks…different; maybe it’s the sun setting, but everything about this is different. “Wow, thank you, Matt. I see you also changed.” You look into his eyes and you can’t help but blush. You turn away, walking towards the door. 

“This is just my parent-teacher conference shirt. I keep it in my room…” He looks down, smoothing his shirt down, fixing his tie, and clearing his throat. 

“This place isn’t that far. It’s only a couple of blocks.” You two walk together, shoulder to shoulder, fingers brushing together slightly as you walk, but no one moves. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You walk into the bar, taking your jackets off, brushing off the cold of Boston. The place was already buzzing with people talking and dancing. The band was already there. The minute you walk in, you immediately get a burst of confidence, becoming your usual energetic self. 

“Okay, common, let’s sit!” You are beaming with energy. You’ve been in the place for all of 5 minutes, and it’s already one of the funnest nights. You grab his wrist, leading him to a booth near the back. Smooth jazz is spilling into all the cracks of the bar. 

“This place is so…you.” Matt says, looking around at the place. The dim lighting, the thrifted and collected decor. 

You grin at his comment. “Yeah, I used to be a regular here a lot during uni. Actually, one of my old scores from there is hanging somewhere here.” You gesture to the many piled-on decorations all around the bar. 

“Good evening, guys! I’m Jillian. I’ll be your waitress. Can I get ya’ started on anything?” She comes over, notepad in hand, smiling at the two of you. 

“Hi, I’ll just take a vodka cran’ on the rocks.” You smile at her again while she writes down your order. “And for you, sir?” 

“Uhh, I’ll just take a whisky, neat.” He looks at you at the end of his order, like he was getting approval from you. “Okay, I’ll get those right away!” Your waitress leaves with a smile, and you look at Matt, resting your cheek in your hand. 

“What?” he says, turning his head to look at you. 

“What? Oh, nothing. Just that you like…whisky.” You say the drink name like it’s foreign to you.

“Well, even your drinks are grossly sweet.” He looks like he automatically relaxes when you speak. 

“Grossly sweet, pfft, even your drinks are bitter.” You lean into the small table, making the gap smaller between the two of you. He scoffs and does the same. The two of you looking at each other, not a hint of awkwardness in the air. 

“Okay, I got a vodka cran and a whiskey neat.” The waitress places the drinks down on the table. Your rings clicking against the cup of vodka tickling your tongue while sipping your drink. 

He leans back in his part of the booth while sipping his drink. All you can do is stare at him while sipping your drink and crossing your legs, taking in the scene. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your confidence, but you lean back into the table, putting your drink down. “Hey Matt,” you say whispering. “What?” He grins, leaning into your foreheads almost touching. “We should go dance.” You look at the dance floor, the band playing ‘Come Live With Me’ by Marvin Gaye. “I’m not really a dancer—” before he could finish, you’re dragging him to the dance floor. “Shut up, just dance!” 

For a moment, you two are just standing hand in hand, swaying side to side to side, looking into each other’s eyes, but then Matt pulls you in closer, closing the gap between you and pressing your bodies together. The dance floor was packed with couples, but it couldn’t matter at all; it’s like you were the only ones there. Matt leads you to sway at the beat of the music, your hand making its way to the back of his neck. 

“I’ve never seen this side of you before, Matt…I like it,” you whisper into his ear, leaning into him more. 

“You bring out some side in me, y/n. I can’t explain it.” He pulls away, looking at you like there are words left unsaid. 

The rest of the night was filled with dancing and drinks flowing. Every time you would be dancing, Matt would just give you this look. It makes your face heat up and your stomach hurt. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

You walk out of the bar. The moon is already out, the cold air making your face sting. 

You turn toward Matt, sucking on your teeth, smiling. “Matt, I had a really fun time tonight. I haven’t had one like this in a while.” You step closer to him, grabbing his hand. “I’ve never experienced something like this. You are just so… amazing.” 

“Oh, you and your compliments,Matt. Well, I guess I should be going home now.” The last sentence is slow, hinting at something more. 

“Y/n, I can’t let you walk home alone this late. Please let me walk you.” He follows after you, walking by your side. “Well, if you insist.” You don’t try to hide your happiness at the fact that you get to spend more time with him. All he does is huff out a laugh at your comment as you walk down the busy street. 

“I can’t believe my feet don’t hurt. I danced so much…” You two start making small talk again while walking, getting into a rhythm. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 

The normally long walk felt ridiculously short once you got to your door. All you want to do is take matters into your own apartment and talk all night and spend your morning with him. He makes you feel some weird type of way you’ve never felt before, like you could say something crazy, but at the end of the day, he will still be there. You don’t know how to ever thank him for becoming someone so constant in your life. 

Before you get your keys out, you turn to Matt, looking at him. You step towards him, and he doesn’t the same. Only inches between your faces. You can hear the first song you danced to in the back of your head. You think, ‘This is it. I have to do it.’  

You lean into him, hesitant for a moment but evidently closing the gap between the two of your lips, touching. His unsure hands come up to your waist as yours reach his face; he leans into the kiss, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. The two of you get into a rhythm. 

When you pull away to catch your breath, chest moving up and down, you look up at him with a smile. You can’t read his face; the dim light coming from the moon casting a shadow on his face. You lean in for another kiss, but he abruptly stops, making you confused. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I can’t, not like this. I-“ He fidgets with his hands nervously. His words barely register in your brain; all you know is that you need to get out of there. 

“Oh, I see. Goodnight, Matt.” You swiftly open your door, tears forming in your eyes. Embarrassment makes your chest hurt. You close the door in his face, not caring to hear another word. You feel gross; you dressed up all nice, put yourself out there just to get rejected. 

Matt stayed outside of your apartment for 5 minutes, listening to you move around your apartment. Hearing you cry made him feel horrible, but he’s never done this before. He’s scared, so the best thing for him to do in his mind is give you space. As much as you need, and if you never talk to him again. He’ll understand. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･  

You get in the shower, washing off the sweat and makeup. Cold water hitting your skin sobering you up. You grab some ice cream and a spoon and sit in your bed, watching trashy reality TV shows. You look around your room at the decorations, the music, your clothing, and all you can think about is the fact that Matt wouldn’t enjoy this. Maybe you thought he enjoyed your loud clothes and crass personality, but he’s the exact opposite of you, and you need to accept that. 

a/n: ahhhh hope you guys enjoyed hopefully I didn't leave you too sad. Please leave some love on the post <3 have a wonderful day bye byebye

more scienceteacher!matt x musicteacher!reader here

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 7

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1554

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

He's been relegated to picking up supplies. You'd thrust a list at him that morning, and he'd almost seen a tail behind you, flicking and curling like a question mark.

It isn't the first time you've had him wrapped around your finger, requesting his assistance. Normally you only ask when you're sick, desperate for supplies and he's available. (He'll always be available.)

Still, this time you've handed him a list for crafts, shoved him from his own base, and you peppered his face in kisses before he can even respond or argue. 

Not that he would, but he wishes you would at least come shopping with him. He's found himself enjoying the domesticity of you puttering around aisles while he pushes a trolley. If he takes his eyes off you, you'll steal the trolley and go skidding down an empty aisle.

Which is how he stands now, in the living room of his base, hands full of arts and crafts supplies, while he stares at a tree he doesn't remember buying.

It's twinkling with lights half done, but otherwise it bears no decoration. The twins are balancing on each other's shoulders trying to throw the multicoloured flashing lights up towards the top of it. You're there underneath, ready to catch them if them.

He's pretty sure someone's going to end up with a broken bone. (Which he does not want to explain to the doctor.)

With a flick of his finger, black and red swirling mist quickly remove lights from hands and twist them around the top of the tree. Gently, and carefully.

He's only slightly smug, smirk in full, when you turn to him in surprise. He's even more smug when your face instantly warms, eyes twinkling at him.

If he were really a crow, his feathers would poof up and he'd preen. Instead he wipes his hand on his shirt collar and extends the bags he's holding, "For you, kitten."

Your whirlwind of activity rushes over, the twins wobbling before they manage to detangle themselves, grabbing at the bag and pulling them to the floor. Separating things out.

He watches absently, but you're focused and tapping on your chin as you think, so he abandons you to your considerations to make himself useful. Warm drinks in hand before he returns to you.

Sylus finds you showing the twins how to fold and make ornaments with coloured paper. He hesitates at the door, if you had wanted ornaments, why did you not just ask for them? He could have ordered any number. Any colour. Anything you wanted.

He's again unsettled by a strange uncomfortable dissatisfaction, you do not make it easy to provide for you. To satisfy every desire. He wonders how you became someone who holds them so close to the chest, scared to want, all over again. He offers hot chocolate to the twins, and frothed coffee to you, (the smell never gets better), before sitting next to you on the floor, cross legged and curious.

You look over and grin, and for a second he sees ears tilting forwards in mischief, pupils blown and ready to pounce. "We didn't have a lot growing up, so me and Caleb would make ornaments for the tree with Gran. The twins wanted to try..." there's a question there that you want to ask but you can't quite... get the words out.

He can read you well enough to know the hesitation, and he leans in, voice low, fingers brushing your cheek, "Show me."

Sylus prides himself on learning, he's good at picking up skills, but he cannot be said to be creative. He is, however, good at following steps. He does, however, enjoy trying.

It's not a new skill that will be useful for anything other than moments like this, but truthfully if he only ever learned skills for moments like this, he'd be a happier fiend than he has any right to.

The twins decide to get pens and decorate the shapes he folds, while you sit nearby fretting over a new challenge. He finds himself looking over and peering but you catch him and point at his hands in an unspoken order. Focus.

He chuckles, only you would dare to order him about, and only you would gain his obedience as he follows your orders.

As they end up with a pile of... he's not sure he'd call anything he and the twins have made art, the fish would surely have something to say if he tried, he already dreads the upcoming conversation, but you're thrilled and excited as you come over to look. Picking up paper baubles and stars that the twins have drawn silly faces on.

There's a happy flush to Luke and Kieran's face as you wholeheartedly approve, and he swallows a lump in his throat that he doesn't really understand. Yet he wants to cry, he thinks, and he's not really sure why. Or what caused it.

He doesn't linger, doesn't have time, as you're pushing him towards the tree, "You get the top, Luke, middle, Kieran, bottom." Then you're running off.

He's starting to think the holidays are a little too much trouble... (Warm, vibrant, comforting.) That lilting voice that sounds like yours again.

Your soul is always so noisy, he muses, warmed and placated.

They're almost done when you come back, this time you're not as energetic. There's waves coming off you, nerves and anxiety rippling under skin. He pauses, where he's about to hang a star, and looks down  at you. As soon as he does you swallow, shoving a cardboard box into his arms.

Not a box? It has numbers on it?

"We-" you swallow past the nerves and push on. Ever ready to fight a monster. Even if the monster is yourself, "also used to make calendars for each other. It's late, so it's only twelve days." He catches your hand before it scratches at your arm, smoothing his thumb over your fingers and then rubbing circles into your palm. He blinks down at the thing, and sees today. He drops the star he's holding unceremoniously and presses the little cardboard flap open.

The calendar is decorated with a picture of a crow surrounded by presents. He remembers the fish encouraging your artistic pursuits, and while he's not sure if it's good, he never seems to be sure if it's good... he knows he likes it.

Inside is a hand wrapped chocolate and a small note.

Day one - A reminder that I love you, and appreciate you always, thank you Sylus.

You're still fidgeting, and at this point the twins have peeked their heads over to stare at his bounty. The longer he stares, the more he realises he has to speak, has to respond but his throat feels closed and his chest is so tight. It hurts. It hurts.

"If it's stupid you don't have to-"

He drops his calendar and he presses you into his chest. He's sure if he were better practiced in his emotions he'd cry. Instead he just encompasses you in his body, squeezing and holding and drowning in you. He nips at your cheek, hand squeezing your face, he wants to bite and chew and claw and scratch.

He can't understand and he doesn't want to hurt, but he breathes you in. Relieved he has no tail to betray him, wagging furiously. You're giggling at his reaction, trying to pull away from his rough handling, calling his name out like knives in his heart, and he finally kisses you. Over and over and over. Tasting his name on your lips and your love in his heart.

Then he startles, pulling away quickly to see that thankfully the twins had caught his gift, the note and the chocolate. Placing it on the side. They're giving him a look like he's a fool, he might be, because he has an evol that can move things for him. Instead his foolish body betrayed him.

"Hunter! Do we get one?" Luke calls, pouting, and you keep a hold on Sylus' hand. Grounding him as he looks at your note over and over, pressing your thumb into his wrist, and smoothing his rapid uneven heartbeat there.

Still you extend a makeshift calendar to the twins, one each, identical except for the names. He can tell that you'd been careful to match every line. "Of course."

He absently notes that you've left four more on the side. The fish, the doctor, the prince and an untouched one for your family. The note is finally placed in his pocket, right over his heart, where he knows he'll keep it until it's worn and unreadable. Not that it matters, because he'll remember it always.

As you watch him smooth his fingers over it, you laugh, "You know there's eleven more days of those right?" Your nerves are still simmering, he can tell, but you're thrilled for his reaction and eased with his earnestness and joy. He lets your words settle and then darts to the calendar on the side, he hears the twins opening theirs but barely cares.

You panic when you realise he's going to just tear the thing open for more of your feelings recorded in pretty stationary paper, before you throw yourself at his back, "Sylus! No! They're for other days!"

[crescentfool]

having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Just saw this comment on a story posted a month ago.

*cries in Eddie Munson Solo Series no one wanted to read, interact with or request for*

No shade to the person that commented this on their own fic if you recognize it. It's not their fault. I'm not mad at them. More crying in the tags.

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[indigodawns]

.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Oh these all look so lovely. May i ask about good dog bad dream for WIP files?

of course!!! 🥰💕 i answered a little bit about it here, but this is one of the tag stories i really, REALLY want to actually become a fic so i did promise a little snippet of the 2K that is done:

Things that Dylan should do: turn off the light, shut the door, walk back inside to the rumpled sheets still warm from when he left them to grab a glass of water. Leave the creature outside to the lightning bugs and the quarter moon and the shifting shadows of the woods along the gap-toothed fenceline of his yard, and then come out in the morning to nothing more than a paw print and the clean reassurance of sunlight to tell him nobody’s there, to ignore the prickle of discomfort that shivers its way across his body as goosebumps and raised hairs when he thinks about turning his back on the memory of those red eyes.

Things that Dylan does instead: whistle.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Lol. Lmao even.

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[lizardho]

When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.

After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.

The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.

My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.

Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”

Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.