#and i know i'll have to update it once i see the rest of the show...

[vettelshon3ybadg3r]

he doesn’t - dr3 ❤️‍🩹

“…I know you don’t need my comfort but I’d like to think I can carry some of it for you…if you want of course…” Is this how first dates usually end up? Who the fuck have I been going on dates with? Where did he spawn from?”

word count - 4.3k

summary - reader with unspecified chronic illness, general health anxiety, gentleman! Daniel, mentions of being uncomfortable around alcohol, food, prescription medication. suggestive of slight sexual tension and difficult health related conversations. fluffyyyyy.

"Girl I don't think I can do it..." you repeat on the now three hour FaceTime call to your best friend for what seems like the millionth time this evening.

"You can. And you will! You deserve this, more than anyone" she also repeats for probably also the millionth time.

You sigh and continue curling your hair.

It's your first date since your diagnosis 9 months ago, after two years of battling with debilitating symptoms, gaslighting doctors and pain medication that doesn't even scratch the surface. Not forgetting the tears, the tears cried and the hope lost that you'll ever be okay again.

You don't feel that you will ever be okay, but your friends can't stand to see you wallow in bed and accept your life passing by, and long story short that's how you matched with Daniel on some dating app they downloaded on your phone.

"Okay, my Ubers here" you shakily tell your friend through the phone, sat on your vanity. You smooth your long-sleeved black mini dress, pull at your knee high boots and adjust your bag on your shoulder.

"Do I look okay?" You ask, looking down the camera, stepping back and giving a spin.

"Breathtaking. Go get him girl" she smiles.

"I'll keep you updated" you pick up your phone, checking your lipliner in the camera.

"You have everything you need?" she checks. You know what she's referring to.

"Yep, meds...and backups..." you nod.

"Condoms?..." she smirks.

"Okay let's not get too ahead of ourselves" you laugh. you never even anticipated that being an option for tonight.

"Go on...go have some fun, you deserve it."

You hang up and take a deep breath, taking the lift from your apartment downstairs to your uber.

"Uber for y/n?"

The driver nods, you get in and take some deep breaths, taking a moment for yourself with the anxiety bubbling and the potential placebo of your body giving out on you at any point from now on.

The scenarios that play out in your head through the short drive are relentless, from him standing you up to something going seriously wrong within the blink of an eye during dinner and having to explain to Daniel...well...everything, and blowing your chance at something good happening to you for once.

It's those scenarios that scarily pass the time, and before you know it you're outside the restaurant, shakily closing the door to the uber and forgetting how this all works.

Do i go inside? Is he already inside? No i’m ten minutes early so he'll arrive any second...what if he's fifteen minutes early and already sat-

"Y/n?"

I jump and spin on my heel, there he is.

Good lord.

"Daniel hi!" You go on your tiptoes and wrap an arm around Daniel's shoulder, resting your chin on the other. He rubs his large hand over your back and his scent fills your nose, musky but floral.

God he’s tall.

"Shall we?" He gestures to the door, flashing a smile and you respond with a nod. A smile that's enough to make you forget all the scenarios and worries repeating in your head since you got out of bed this morning, well...afternoon.

He pulls your chair out for you, sitting opposite and tucking himself in.

"So! How are you?..."

There's the dreaded question. Lie.

"I'm really good! I've been really looking forward to trying this place out!" You smile and look around the low lit Italian restaurant.

"How have you been? You're home for the holidays?" You return the sentiment, picking up the jug of water to pour a glass for your drying mouth and Daniel doesn't miss the shake in your hand at its heaviness.

"Let me.." he takes the jug from you and pours you a glass, pouring himself one after. You smile as a thank you. You wait for him to question it, he doesn't.

"Yeah, yeah I'm home for Christmas and then back to it in January" he nods, taking a sip of water and kissing his teeth. You can't tell if it's awkward, you feel like he knows you're being standoffish, keeping your guard up or just simply thinks you're being a bit of a bitch.

He doesn't.

She’s breathtaking. I can’t stop looking at her lips, the sparkle of eyeshadow lighting up her eyes and how effortlessly her hair falls on her shoulders. She’s enchanting.

You also take a sip from your glass, it's like you've forgotten how to act and just copy him except you put your glass down and hold onto it, the coldness soothing your clammy palms.

"So what is it you do again...you're a racing driver?" You tilt your head, leaning forward on the table. His eyes crinkle into a smile as a chuckle escapes his lips and he nods.

God he's beautiful.

"Mhm, formula one...never heard of it?" His lip curls into a smile and you blush.

"By the sounds of it I should have..."

"No no not at all..." he shakes his head and leans back in his chair, resting his forearms on the table and tapping his fingers.

"It's not like it's the highest level you can get in motorsport or anything..." he shrugs, putting on an act of mock nonchalance and scratching the back of his neck.

You laugh, you actually laugh.

"Oh right! I'm sorry Mr. Bigshot! I suppose I better ask for your signature or something huh?" I tease.

He shakes his head, clasping his hands together under his chin and resting his elbows on the table.

"How about my phone number?"

Your heart flutters. Wow he's forward...wow.

You feel the heat creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks and look into my lap as a small laugh escapes your lips.

"Maybe..." you smile softly, before his eyes on yours grow that smile into one you haven't felt in a long time, an actual smile.

The waiter arrives, requesting our drinks order and placing the menus down in front of us. You gesture for Daniel to go first.

"Yep Uhm..." he glances at the drinks menu, before looking up at you.

"What you feeling?..."

Your heart skips and your hands go clammy.

"Oh go with whatever..." I nod and smile, he returns the expression.

"Do you have the uh...Chianti Classico? Red?...a bottle for the table please and a lasagna for me" Daniel glances up at the waiter, your eyes on his hands spread across the menu, holding it so effortlessly and his fingers dancing lightly over the print.

The waiter nods and takes note, looking at you.

"Oh could I uh...just grab a Coke Zero?" You say in a small voice, Daniel looks up at you.

"Would you like a different wine? Do you prefer white?" He opens the menu back up, worried he hadn't considered your taste.

You shake your head, not wanting to create something.

"No no! I'm okay...honestly..." I smile and nod, Daniel leans forward slightly.

"I don't mind driving you back? Or ordering you an uber or?..."

he doesn't get it, you can't expect him to...it begins.

Your throat feels tight and you wipe your palms on your dress, licking your drying lips and looking back at the waiter.

"I'll have a glass for the wine, and I'll just stick with the water on the side, oh and Uhm...the spaghetti bolognese please" I smile and nod, handing him the menu as he expressed he'll be back with our order.

As long as you drink it slowly...steady and slowly it'll be okay...it'll be okay...

Daniel looks at you, expectantly, but unsure of what exactly. You wait for him to pry, he doesn't.

"So what do you do?..." Daniel asks as the waiter returns with the wine, pouring into your glass and you stop him after just a a few glugs. Daniel accepts an actual glass of wine.

"I work in digital marketing and advertising" you leave out the details of it being remote, and part-time.

The conversation flows, the laughter bellows, your knees knock under the table and you feel fine...great actually. You try not to think about the three sips of wine you've drunk, and whether you'll have to skip your medication tonight and it comes easy because Daniel's presence doesn't leave you space to think of those things, not with that smile and almost honk of a laugh he has.

The food arrives, he's dramatic, eccentric, authentic.

"Oh wow you have to try" Daniel's eyes widen as he holds out his fork to you, with some of his meal on to try.

I glance at him, almost checking it's okay but the sparkle in his eyes with excitement to share this experience with me tells me everything I need to know. I giggle and shake my head, before scraping off the small bite from the fork with my teeth, closing my lips around the fork.

My eyes shut then widen.

"Wow..." I nod slowly, looking at my own plate.

"You definitely got the best dish...wait you’re…sorry you’re not sick or anything are you?��� You hesitantly check.

He shakes his head.

“Fit and healthy…you won’t catch anything from me today…” he smiles.

That must be nice.

He gestures with his hand to give him some of your food to try, as if to test your claim.

You chuckle and shake your head. He's so easy to be around.

You gather some of your dish on your fork, holding your hand under it and moving it across the table to him, watching his lips close around it and his hand come up over his mouth.

"No way yours is so much better!" He exclaims with a laugh.

"Swap?" You offer, going to lift your plate. Daniel shakes his head.

"I can't take a beautiful girl to dinner and steal her food..." his laugh booms, it fills your chest and your ears and the blood rushes to your head and your toes and your fingertips.

"Share?" I suggest, tilting my head.

The two of you end up sharing both meals, laughing...obnoxiously, sharing stories, fingers brushing one another's on the table and by the end of the meal both leant in to the middle of the table. Like you can't breathe each other in enough. He's tantalising. He's too good to be true.

The waiter collects your plates, offering the dessert menu. You check the time on your phone.

21:30pm.

"Uhm...hmm I..."

"We'll have a glance..." Daniel smiles and nods, you appreciate him taking the pressure off as the waiter scurries away.

"No room for dessert?" Daniel pours some more wine into a glass, gesturing to yours to ask if you want some, you hold up your thumb and index finger with a small gap to suggest a little, he pours a little.

"It's just late...and...yeah I guess...yeah I'm not really a dessert girl-" you stumble and blush.

Fuck now you really look like you're trying to escape.

"Wait I...I'm sorry...I..." Daniel tilts his head at your apology.

"I have ice cream at mine? If you wanted to finish up here and maybe?..." you offered.

You didn't want Daniel to think you were trying to get out of the rest of dinner, because this was truly the best night you'd had in...well probably over a year, and typically by this time in the evening you'd taken your medication and were in bed, certainly not out on a date.

"That sounds perfect...if you're comfortable of course..." Daniel nods, you nod and smile.

"Of course."

Daniel pays the bill and you leave the restaurant, your arm linked in his and you uber back to your apartment, the second you unlock the door you remember the state you left the place in.

The blankets on the sofa, the hospital letters and documents strewn across the kitchen with prescription boxes you had been sorting.

"Oh god okay don't look!" You exclaim, going up behind Daniel to try cover his eyes with your hands.

"Okay nope too tall..." you mutter to yourself, he throws his head back and laughs, spinning around with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"It's fine..." he smiles.

"Okay..." you sigh,

"You come in here..." you drag Daniel into the living room, quickly tidying the blankets and fluffing the pillows.

"And don't move...I'll be two seconds!"

He laughs, spreading his legs and leaning back on the couch, his large hand on his thighs. You clear your throat before remembering he can see you staring, stepping off to the kitchen and trying to turn it into something that looks somewhat presentable. You grab two spoons and the three ice cream tubs from the freezer alongside the Nutella bringing them back into the living room and setting them down on the coffee table, finding Daniel observing the photos on your cabinets, tracing his slender fingers alongside your trinkets and general miscellaneous keepsakes.

"Can I get you a drink?" You blurt out, standing awkwardly. Daniel turns with that crinkly eyed smile, shaking his head.

"I'm good for now...thanks" he sits back on the couch and you join him.

"Nutella and ice cream?" He quizzes, leaning forward to grab a spoon.

"Yeah...it's kinda my comfort food..." I chuckle, unzipping my boots.

"No I love that...I like controlling the ratio..." he nods, looking over his shoulder  at you with a curl in his lip and glint in his eye.

Okay that look was definitely a moment.

He notices you struggling with your boots.

“Want me to?” He nods to your boots, holding out his hands for your foot.

You nod and lift your foot, he takes it in his hand effortlessly and the weight lifted is heavenly.

“Mmm..” you involuntarily groan, your cheeks reddening.

Daniel turns to look at you with a smirk, his large hands still resting on your calf and knee.

“Long day on your feet?”

“Could say that..” you smile, as his fingertips move to the zip on your inner thigh and your breath hitches at the contact. He moves the zip down slowly, tenderly, you can’t take your eyes off his gaze on your leg, his attentiveness making your stomach flutter. He places the boot on the floor and gestures to your other leg, which you lift and sigh at the relief, he lets out a small chuckle.

Daniel rests his hands on your legs, as if to not let you put them back on the floor but not consciously, like he wants you to rest on him.

The two of you share ice cream, more stories, more laughter. Daniel’s fingertips trace up your legs, not teasingly, gently. Rubbing the skin softly relieving tension you didn’t know you had.

“Can I just have a second?”

Daniel nods, you get up and head to the kitchen, popping out your medication for the evening and pouring a glass of water.

As you put the tablets on your tongue Daniel walks in with the tubs of ice cream, all in one hand…god his hands were huge.

“Oh…sorry I…”

I shake my head and swallow the tablets, turning around.

“No no…sorry…I just…”

“I just uh…the ice cream was melting and uh…yeah”

I nod and take them from him, bending and putting them in the freezer, Daniel glances across the counter to your container of medication.

I turn back and smile.

“Shall we go back through?”

The two of you head back to the living room, you’re keen to forget the awkward encounter, you know he wants to ask, but the answer will make him wish he never questioned it at all.

You sit back down next to Daniel, your legs curled up and your hand rubs your feet, those boots really did a number on you.

He notices, gesturing with his hand to take your feet.

“Want me to?”

You blush.

“Give me a foot massage?” You ask jokingly. He nods, seriously.

“If you want…those boots didn’t look the comfiest…beautiful…but not exactly comfy” he chuckles. You drape your legs over his lap.

“You think they’re beautiful…” you snicker.

“You’re…beautiful I mean…” he looks over at you.

God he’s smooth.

You smile and shake your head, watching as his nimble hands relieve the tension from your feet.

“Mmm…” you nod, closing your eyes.

“Good?” You can hear the smile on his lips.

“Oh yeah…”

It’s quiet for a while, comfortable. you didn’t think on your first date in 9 months you’d be being given a foot massage on your couch at a measly 10pm…but here you are…and you didn’t expect to feel so…normal about it.

“So uhm…” he begins.

Oh no.

“What was Uhm…” Daniel gestures with his thumb to the kitchen.

“I mean…like are you feeling okay?” He continues.

Great…and you spoke too soon because it’s about to go all wrong.

I shake my head, as if to brush it off.

“It’s nothing…just some meds I have to take every now and again…”

“Are you sure…I mean I completely understand if you don’t wanna talk about it…but I…look I really like you, and I wanna get to know you”

You take the jump and open up. About your symptoms, your diagnosis and your daily life. Explaining how tonight was quite a big night for your journey with your health, as it’s the biggest thing you’ve done for yourself in a while. How you didn’t want to tell him at the table about your situation with alcohol and medication and the complications of mixing the two.

“Fuck I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…pressure you or anything”

You shake your head, putting your hand on his arm which was still tracing on your leg.

“No…no please don’t be sorry…you can’t have known it’s okay…”

You continue with your story a little, leaving out the not so glamorous parts of the 2am breakdowns because nothing is cutting the pain, or the calling your best friend because you can’t get to the bathroom by yourself.

He listens intently, his eyes never leaving your lips as you ramble on, and his hands continuing their soft tracing of touches on your legs.

You take a breath, satisfied with how much you’ve shared, until it feels like too much.

“I’m sorry…I-“

“No” he cuts you off.

“I mean…don’t be sorry…thank-you…” he continues.

“Thank-you?” You chuckle.

He nods, scoffing slightly.

“Yeah…I mean that shits…that shits heavy…you didn’t have to trust me with all that…yet you did. All of that and you’re still accommodating to letting people in…it’s…yeah you’re impressive” he nods.

“I wouldn’t say impressive…”

“It is…maybe it’s my own ignorance or…I dunno…but if you hadn’t mentioned anything I wouldn’t have suspected a thing. I mean you go to hell and back daily…yet you still, show up, and smile…and laugh…” Daniel drapes a hand over the back of the couch.

“I’m sure you’ve been told before, and it might not mean much anymore when it seems like you’re fighting a losing battle…but you’re strong…like fuck…I couldn’t…” he shakes his head.

“Well unfortunately this shit just creeps up on you…whether you can or not…you don’t get a say…”

He nods.

“You’re right…sorry I…”

“No no…you don’t need to…comfort me…I’m not trying to be standoffish…it’s just…”

“No I get it…I mean no sorry I don’t get it…I understand the principle of what you’re suggesting…nothing I can say will make it better you’ll still wake up tomorrow and do it all again…”

Okay pinch me…he gets it?

I lean my head on his arm that’s draped behind me on the couch. Smiling at him. He smiles back.

“Your profile doesn’t do you justice you know that?”

He chuckles.

“No?” He raises an eyebrow. You shake your head.

“You’re gorgeous…” you almost whisper. He scoffs and looks into his lap. He looks back at you, his hand lifting and his fingertips tousling with the hair at the back of your head.

“C’mere” you whisper, gesturing for him to come closer. His hand moves up your leg, moving it to the side as he moves between your legs. Your hand finds the back of his head and you pull his face to yours as your lips meet, pulling him down onto the couch with you. His hand holds himself up by your head, as the other continues to move up your hip and waist, really holding you, his thumb rubbing over every curve and bone.

The kisses become breathless and heavy, your fingers tightening in his curls as your other hand grips his jaw, your noses knocking and his forehead on yours as he pulls away for air.

“All that medical talk like foreplay for you ey?” He breathlessly chuckles. You giggle, before dreading the next expected development.

“Daniel I…”

“Not tonight…I know…” he nods warmly.

“I’m sorry I…I just-”

“Shh shh shh…” he squeezes your hip, looking down at your plump lips and tucking some strand of hair behind your ear. you stare at his warm doe eyes and pink cheeks.

“Just this…this is okay…you’re more than enough like this…”

You nod.

God he makes it impossible not to take him right here.

“Is that okay?…can I?…” he looks back down at your lips, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, you nod.

You and Daniel spend some time like this, your lips on each others like teenagers, not testing the waters for something more but instead completely satisfied with it being just this for tonight.

It comes to Daniel leaving, he’s at your front door, flushed cheeked and bearing a shit eating grin.

You lean against the doorframe as he stands in the hallway.

“I had a really…really good time tonight…I really needed it…” I smiled.

Daniel stood with his hands in his pockets, nodding.

���Me too…I really like you…i…yeah so if you wanna uh…maybe do something again another time?”

“I’d love to…really…” you nod.

“You’re choosing this time…theme park or movie night here…time and place I’ll be there” he smiles.

You nod, with a smile you know looks cheesy and giddy, but you don’t care. You’re happy.

“Can I…get that number then? Or signature…I’m sure I can show it around…” you joke, he laughs, well…bellows, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh I uh…I wrote my number on the post it in your kitchen earlier…I was worried you wouldn’t wanna see me again so I thought when you didn’t call I could just tell myself you didn’t see the note”

You laugh and step forward, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into you.

“Believe me I don’t want it to end here…” I look up through my eyelashes at him, his hands finding my waist and gripping tightly.

“Mm” he hums.

I tiptoe up and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

He nods.

“Yeah…yeah don’t let it end here please…”he chuckles after his almost needy admission.

The two of you part ways, and you get ready for bed giddy, thinking of him and his gentle hands on your feet and calves but their harshness and neediness on your hips. The sound of his laugh and the taste of his lips tainted in your memory. The smell of him lingering in your apartment.

You send a quick text to your best friend.

“He’s perfect. Deets tomorrow xoxo”

She responds with a simple, “EEEK! Get it girl!” You laugh.

Sleep claims your body instantly as your head hits the pillow, for once you’re not dreading waking up…for once.

It’s just gone 11am, you’ve been laying in bed for around an hour, just recuperating from last night when your doorbell goes, you’re not expecting a delivery.

You grunt as you push yourself up out of bed, padding barefoot and in an oversized T-shirt to the front door, unlocking and peering through the gap.

“Hello?”

“Morning…”

“Daniel?” I pull the door open further in shock, to reveal a hoodie, shorts and snapback clad Daniel, holding a brown paper bag and some coffees.

“I brought some food…ease you into today after last night? I can leave it with you or?…”

I shake my head.

“What?…I’m…what?” I chuckle out of shock.

“Sorry…I just…I just thought with how much last night must have been for you…I could bring you food so it’s one less thing for you to think about…I know you don’t need my comfort but I’d like to think I can carry some of it for you…if you want of course…”

Is this how first dates usually end up? Who the fuck have I been going on dates with? Where did he spawn from?

You grab the food from him and place it on the counter, grabbing the pocket of his hoodie and dragging him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Woah I-”

Daniel looks down at you, grinning, as your body’s pressed against his.

“We could always pick up where we left off last night?…or just…have breakfast…” you shrug teasingly.

Daniel kicks off his shoes with a grin, bending down and pulling you over his shoulder.

“This okay?”

You squeal a “yes”, laughter ringing through your apartment as Daniel stands and carries you over his shoulder to your bedroom…actual laughter.

“We definitely have some unfinished business” he grins.

[propenseverbosity]

The People (my beloved mutuals) have spoken. As promised, ace rookanis thoughts:

(Under the cut because I'm gonna talk about sex and also this post got WAY longer than I thought it was going to. Whoops 😂

What if they didn't have sex after Rook returns from the fade prison?

They struggle to stray far from each other's side after Rook's return. Between Solas's illusion of Lucanis crumbling into dust, and the weeks Lucanis spent staring at that damn green couch, wishing that Tearstone Island had all been a dream, the two of them never thought they'd see each other again. Lucanis overcomes his embarrassment over PDA in front of the team solely due to the need to keep a hand on Rook at all times. Whether holding one of theirs, or simply keeping an arm around their shoulders as they process updates from the others, he refuses to let them out of his sight.

The usual teasing from Taash or Davrin doesn't come. A silent understanding of how much he needs this.

Of course he also knows Rook needs to rest, and sending them off to their room is the best way to encourage that, but he doesn't last long before sneaking off to check on them- if only to make sure they're still there. That they're still real.

In the few weeks since their disappearance, he's had far too much time to think about all the things he wishes he'd told Rook. How grateful he is, how much he cares about them. By the time they're tangled up together on Rook's couch, kissing like their lives depend on it, he thinks this could be the perfect way to show them all the things he never found the courage to say.

But in the end, he's not sure he can go through with it.

Despite the seemingly convenient circumstances, Rook is still his first, and Lucanis isn't quite sure he's ready for this yet. He does trust Rook, and wants to be with them in every way (eventually), but after weeks of sleepless nights and Spite's incessant demands that he bring Rook back from the fade, he's not sure he's up for anything more than holding Rook close, savoring the miracle that they've both survived.

He knows Rook would understand. They've always been patient with him, but his fears start to overpower his hesitancy.

What if he never gets another opportunity like this again? What if one (or both) of them dies in the battle ahead, and he loses his chance? Rook was always the gambler. He's not sure he wants to take these odds.

They're down to their underclothes when Rook notices the faraway look in his eye. He tries to brush off their concerns, but Rook knows him better than that. Once they coax an explanation out of him, they brush a hand along his cheek, smiling as he leans into their touch.

"There will be other nights. I'll make sure of it. Not even the gods can keep me away from you." they tell him.

They decide to leave their clothes on the floor for the night. Whether it's out of exhaustion, or the level of comfort they have with each other, he's not sure, but he's also not sure he cares at the moment. He lays with his head in Rook's lap, struggling to keep his eyes open as they run their fingers softly through his hair. When they start to lovingly tease him about falling asleep, he has only one request. It's all he's really wanted.

"Will you talk to me? Your voice is a comfort."

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Day 3.5 is now available! 💖

For the last couple of months, only Server Boosters had access to the 3.5 update... Buuuuut now it's available for everyone to play in the 14DWY Discord — and soon itch.io once I'm happy with the QA and state of the game — so please don't feel pressured to join unless you want to!!

The full devlog + even more screenshots are under the cut ^^

What's been added to the 3.5 version?

📺 Streamer Mode!

I've been told that it's difficult to stream and monetise age-restricted videos on YouTube and Twitch, so I added an option to remove the sexual content and strong language used in the demo.

Now y'all can invite Ren into your bed for cuddles without putting your streamer career on the line /silly /lh

This won't affect the 18+ rating or dark themes/elements of the game, however! Although Streamer Mode will prevent you from seeing any "gruesome" CGs in the future, most of the core elements of the game will still be tied to the choices and decisions you make. So you won't miss out on the overall experience by using streamer mode!!

⚙️ Custom Pronouns!

It only took me one entire year to get around to it, but you can finally choose your own preferred pronouns (or use a set of pronouns instead)... At the cost of being able to change them mid-game ^^;

Since the original pronoun screen wouldn't update until a new scene was displayed, I temporarily disabled the feature. But once I find a workaround, I'll bring it back!

💗 Choose how others perceive you!

You can now choose how the cast and narration perceive you! Originally, the narration was kept strictly gender-neutral (outside of pronouns and genitalia picked by the player), but this will soon change in future updates.

For more clarity: you don't get to choose the words specifically, but you can choose between masculine, feminine, and androgynous terms!

📋 Separate top and bottom genitalia!

You can now choose your tatas and pps separately! >:3

Alongside that, you can also choose your preferred body type!

I removed the "both" genitalia option because a few players still assumed it was an obscure version of "intersex". That wasn't my intention and I don't want to mislead anyone, so I took it out for now ^^;

I also didn't want to include a screenshot of the new genitalia choices in action (because it's NSFW), so y'all get the same character menu screen for the nth time instead lmao

📱 Relationship Screen Overhaul!

You can now change your own status for more immersion, and long-term Server Boosters will eventually be able to submit and use their own icon within the game as well!

Stalking finding your friends has now become easier by using "Buddy Maps"; a new app that allows you to see the location of all the cast members!

I want to offer players more incentive to check the relationship screen since they tend to miss the status updates, so hopefully this might help ;v;

It also says it "updates every few hours" so folks don't go overboard and check every 5 seconds to see where Ren is gdsghf (also keep in mind that he's a hacker lol)

🖤 Additional Scenes Update!

Day 2 received a brand new CG!!!!! Originally, I planned on only adding a few CGs sporadically throughout the game, but it didn't feel right to leave Day 2 so... empty... so I added a brand new CG to (hopefully) make things feel more balanced and natural!

If you decline Teo's offer on Day 3, Leon will now call and try to convince you to reconsider. However, players are still allowed to decline, and if they do, they'll reach a dead end.

After listening to feedback on itch, I changed some of the dialogue during Days 1-3 to make it seem more consistent! They're only small changes though, so it's honestly not worth looking for sdgjssga

🎶 Updated BGM and SFX!

I wanted to try out a different style of music to see if it fits the vibe of 14DWY more! The BGM features more acoustics to suit the "beachy" theme of Corland Bay, though I made a conscious effort to include piano elements as well to stay true to the original!!

I figured it'd be better to give players a live example before I make a poll (to see if they prefer the change or not) and publish it to Itch.

Some new SFX have also been added, though it's very minimal and honestly not that noticeable.

How to download and play the update?

(warning: clicking on the following links will open Discord!!) To download the Day 3.5 update, simply join the 14DWY Discord server, verify your age, and visit the "14dwy-updates" channel!

Alternatively, you can also wait until the update is publicly released on Itch to play it as well!! (It normally gets released shortly after a round of QA testing/getting feedback from the server, though I may release it earlier if I feel like it hehe ^^)

Enjoy!!

[mylittleredgirl]

i can't stop chewing on the MASH time loop situation. my star trek brain will not turn off. there is definitely some kind of temporal anomaly at play, but it's not really a time loop in the traditional sense.

effects carry over from loop to loop. they appear to age. the same wounded soldiers appear on the table three times, but the scars of past surgeries are still there. a character leaves or dies and is gone from the mash forever; their replacement arrives near the end of the war and is still there at the beginning. the dates overlap, yet their presence is sequential. the other characters remember all of them.

how far does this effect extend? if it's summer again at mash, is it summer in tokyo? is it summer in maine? if BJ is in korea two years before he arrived, who's in residency in california, marrying his wife, conceiving his child?

their family trees at home deform—different wives, different children, loved ones alternately dead and alive and never born. those inside are oblivious to what they've lost. hawkeye remembers trapper, but not his sister. what happens in korea persists; the world outside is a fragile suggestion. he tells a soldier that men at the front can't see the whole war, only the other guys dug in with them on their one little hill.

for a deep space nine fan this is irresistible. hawkeye says, wars end, but war is forever. kira asks, if the past has changed, why do i still remember it? sisko never left that ship. time itself is warped by trauma. it is not linear. you exist here. you choose to exist here.

[purinfelix]

you're here, that's the thing ˚⟡˖ ࣪ - franco colapinto

summary: your boyfriend tries his best to make your schedules, as a racer and student, work - even when miles apart w/c: 900

a/n: it's finals season for me and i needed to write something self-indulgent as a break from cramming forgive me 🙏

Being a full-time student was one thing, but being a full-time student in a relationship with an extremely clingy boyfriend, who also happened to be travelling the world to race in Formula One, was a whole other challenge.

You and Franco had had some time to adjust to a long-distance relationship since you started dating, having such different lives, and managed to make it work for the most part. But now, with him having to wholly commit to his racing and finals season rolling around for you, it put a strain on your relationship that neither of you was ready for.

It was a strange paradox - the less free time you had outside of classes and studying, the less you were able to spend talking to him, and the more you wanted just to drop everything and fly to where he was. Your morning texts and voice message updates stopped being enough, and before you knew it you struggled to go longer than an hour studying without sending your boyfriend a message to whine and complain.

You were fully aware of how immature and irresponsible this was, but this awareness did little to stop you. And it didn't exactly help that Franco seemed to share the same sentiment, telling you again and again how hard it was for him as well, how racing seemed almost impossible without you there to cheer him on. It hurt, but the two of you just had to do everything you could to get through it - for you to focus on your studies and for him to try his best at racing.

All this came to a head one Sunday though, the afternoon before one of your final exams and - because of the time difference - the night before Franco's next race. Sitting in your dorm alone, surrounded by piles of textbooks, notes and scattered pens you felt a sudden jolt of vulnerability and before you knew it you were reaching for your phone.

"Can you call?" you typed quickly to your boyfriend, your eyes lighting up upon seeing the three dots begin moving almost instantly.

"My gosh, I was just going to ask you the same thing," he replied, and before you knew it your phone was springing to life with a call from him. Clicking accept, you couldn't help but smile widely at the sight of his face.

"Hi," you say, almost shyly.

"Hi baby, how are you?"

"Good," you pause, "stressed."

He nods understandingly, "You're holding up okay, hm? Taking care of yourself?"

"Of course, Franco," you laugh at his almost motherly concern, "and you?"

"Nervous, of course."

"Well, that makes two of us." You pause after speaking, for some reason this call is turning out less enjoyable and more awkward than you hoped.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired," you hear your boyfriend say and when you look up you can definitely see it, his eyelids half closing over deep, dark circles under them.

"Do you want to sleep? I have to study anyways."

You watch as he chews his bottom lip, thinking of what to say though once he finally talks his voice is small, almost like a confession. "But I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking Franco, and we can talk tomorrow once you rest."

This doesn't seem to quell his worries though, his brows still knitted in thought. "I just feel so useless knowing that you're struggling and stressed and I can't even keep you company like I normally do."

You nod sympathetically until an idea pops into your head. "We can keep the call on, carry me over to your bed - you'll sleep and I'll study."

Even through the fatigue pulling him down, Franco nods enthusiastically, doing as you say. You watch him sink into the plush white bedsheets of whatever hotel he's in, and whilst you feel a little jealous at his ability to rest right now, you turn back to your desk and start pulling out your notes.

"You'll be okay," you hear him mumble.

"What do you mean?"

"With your exams," he smiles sleepily, eyes flitting as he watches you pick up your highlighters and pens, "you're the smartest person I know."

"I don't know how much that's saying, you didn't even finish high school baby."

"Hey! I was trying to be nice," he says, feigning offence though there's a soft smile across his face.

"You're right, I'm sorry," you laugh, "you'll be okay as well, with your race tomorrow."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

"I wish you were here," he sighs, looking at you earnestly and all you can do is give him a nod in agreement.

"But for now," you wave your pen to hint at the fact that you need to get back to cramming and he seems to get the hint.

"Right, right, you won't even know I'm here," he assures you.

And despite that, the entire night passes without you once forgetting it. Not that he's distracting or anything, in fact he falls asleep mere minutes after telling you that - leaving you to work peacefully for the rest of the night. Instead, his presence, even as he sleeps, even through a screen and halfway across the world, is enough. You find yourself smiling as you study because maybe having a long-distance boyfriend, even one as clingy as Franco, has been a blessing in disguise all this time.

[snapscube]

I FINISHED TURNABOUT BIG TOP! Which means here is my updated autopsy report ranking for cases and characters!

Both have actually shifted around quite a bit so you may find it an interesting update. I'll explain some of my current thoughts on the new placements as well as my thoughts on 2-3 in general below a break if ur curious.

Okay so first thing let's just address the elephant in the room: We have an all new category on the character ranking!! One that I sure wish I didn't have to include but unfortunately Big Top made some... very Interesting decisions with specific characters. It would be one thing if this content was featured and then addressed, but it was particularly off-putting and frustrating to me that everything was played entirely straight?? So yeah. New lowest of the low category for a couple freaks who are actively courting a 16 year old!!!! yayyyyyy

OTHERWISE, I do have to say.... I was really pleasantly surprised at 2-3 as a case. I can say now I completely understand people having a distaste for it especially in regards to the unsavory age gaps, but literally..... almost everything else in this case was well put together and generally on-par with the quality of the rest of the series? As an overall package I actually still find Turnabout Samurai infinitely more dull. Like, maybe it's just because the lead-up to actually playing it was so uniquely frustrating for me and forcibly lowered my expectations by a ton, but there was so much good shit in Big Top. Maya, in particular, is in top form during this case. She is so fucking funny. I loved almost every word that came out of her mouth and it really solidified her top spot in the character ranking for me at present. But past that, I think the second half of this case is EXTREMELY strong compared to its opening half. I'll admit during the first trial section I was getting kinda tired with it and finding it hard to care given how much I just do not root for Max, so I had tentatively placed it at bottom of C tier. But then once von Karma arrives in the investigation section and then Acro's storyline enters the equation I really think it finds its footing. I actually found the last few scenes of the trial very emotionally effective, especially Acro's breakdown at the witness stand and mentioning how he couldn't follow through with taking his own life to escape his crime due to his desire to see his brother wake up. Like... I legitimately teared up.

And FURTHERMORE.... von Karma. Oh my god. I don't know if I'm picking up on anything here, nor do I want to know until I maybe see it for myself, but something about her conduct in the final trial really spoke to me. I feel like a surface read makes it apparent that she's just as frustrated as she is because she's losing the case to Wright again, and I do think that's a huge factor still to her reaction... but I don't know, I felt something else with her. Particularly when it came to her reaction towards Acro's attempted murder of Regina. I felt like she came across as PARTICULARLY disgusted towards that revelation and towards her own client in a way that subtly humanized her and had me just CHUCKLING AND CHORTLING in evil anticipation towards potential character arcs. I really hope I've grasped onto something here because... I love her so much. I love the idea that in spite of her reputation we're still gonna get to see this spark of humanity light up. AHHHHH.

Okay. Anyway. In summary:

I understand why people have a distaste for Big Top now, but it does not change the fact that I desperately wish I had been given the chance to experience the story myself going into it without that baggage. It genuinely did not help my experience in the slightest to just have that cloud of expectation over it and it is generally irritating that I couldn't even bring up that I was playing it without people jokingly apologizing to me or telling me that I wouldn't be able to handle it or whatever. Really not a great vibe.

As a case, it has a couple MAJOR, GLARING points of discomfort but I'm still really glad I gave it a chance and was able to find a lot of good in it anyway. It inspired me to unfortunately lower some of my other rankings because this is what I kind of consider a more middle-of-the-road quality for the series now. Solid B tier. I have played much worse.

Maya Fey is a god damn treasure.

As for some of the other character shifts, particularly in relation to some of the characters who got bumped from S to A rank, that's less because I decided I like them less now than I did when I first ranked them and more that I decided my initial interpretation of my feelings was incongruent in some cases. Like, for example I LOVE Mia I really do she's great, but in no way at this current time is she on the same level as Maya or Lana for me. So I just needed to adjust the ratios a bit.

Anyway, I'll be back eventually with posts about the next case and the last one of AA2! :3 I hear it's pretttyyy long but pretttyyy damn GOOD. Can't wait.

[baji-side-sideblog]

Clipped Bird Chapter 2

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Alfred looks to his side seeing Damian storm into the dinning room. The others aren’t far behind him, and before they can speak Alfred holds his hand up.

“I know what you all are going to ask, I didn’t tell you out of their own request,” Alfred’s voice was clear and firm leaving no room for doubt, “They wanted it to just be between us, so their move to their college dorms can go unbothered.”

“So you’re just saying they left us without any word at all, even after they got into a fight!” Damian huffs.

“Yes, they didn’t wish to stay any longer. They are in good health, and weren’t harmed in the fight, luckily.”

Bruce steps up putting his hand on Damian to remind him to calm down, “What college are they going to?”

“Gentlebrook University, they thought it was the best seeing as it has more options for their interest,” Alfred adjusts his tie, “Though you all better not rush them at once. They will only react negatively to it seeing as they’re not used to your attention.”

Bruce sighs, putting his hand to his chin as he thinks of a plan to get to you. He doesn’t need you running off and hiding from them more just by seeing all of them. Looking over to his sons he tries to think of who has the best relationship with you, so they can be the one to talk to you. But no one pops up right away for him, making the man grumble. They’ll all have to step up once they get you back and make up for everything they missed. A pit of guilt grows in his stomach thinking about how they all failed you so horribly.

“Tim, you're just a bit older than them. I think it’s best if you go and talk to them. Remember to be slow about it, we just want them back in our lives. No forcing them back into the house, it will only upset them more,” his voice is stern, “The rest of you all will be getting things ready just in case the worse situation happens.”

Jason, Dick, and Damian try to speak up, each wanting to be the one to go get you, but Bruce shakes his head. The trio sigh but reluctantly agrees.

"I'll track them down, so I have an easier time finding them on campus," Time speaks up, "I'll keep all of you updated when I go to talk to them.

Alfred looks at the group, “I shall not be helping you all, seeing as I don’t wish to make them feel isolated if anything goes amiss.”

Bruce turns to the butler wanting to bring him onto their side, but seeing the determination in Alfred’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t change his mind. He just nods having to respect his choice, plus they can use it to their benefit in case they have to force you back to the house. You’ll be more compliant hopefully with Alfred here and your two’s relationship stays secure.

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Here you are in your first in person class! Your nerves are going crazy from all the excitement and anxiety. The class was just a simple math class even with your major they still require the general classes to be done first. Hopefully you can make some friends, but first you got to unhide your presence. It’s just a bit scary the idea of being not hidden, you’re not sure how your classmates will react to you. But if you want friends you have to be willing to be out there. So taking a deep breath you let your presence be known, spooking the lady sitting next to you.

“Oh goodness! I didn’t realize you were right next to me.”

“It’s ok, sorry about spooking you,” you hold out your hand introducing yourself but using Pennyworth as your last name, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too! I’m Jenny. Um, so would you mind if we hang out? I mean, well, sorry. I stumble over my words when I’m nervous,” she fidgets with her ginger hair, “I’m new here and I figure you are too, so would you want to be new together?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you nod excitedly, your first friend! This is it! Your heart pounds so fast, you hope you don’t scare her off. Jenny smiles and shakes your hand very fast, scooting closer to you to work together. Before you know it, class is over, and Jenny is leading you all around campus to hang out. This is the most fun ever, even though nothing is really happening besides talking. For the first time ever with someone who isn’t your dad, you feel like you belong. The campus is wonderful too since it was more colorful than the usual Gotham buildings.

Jenny is a rather fast talker, rambling about all sorts of things that pops into her head. But she makes sure to leave space for you to chime up, and when you do her focus is all on you. Happily listening to everything you have to say, as if it's the most important thing ever. And luckily enough Jenny doesn't listen to the news since it makes her sad, so she has no idea who you are. You never felt so lucky before to have a fresh start with someone.

A week later you’re walking over to the local breakfast place with Jenny like usual just chatting. Everything is perfect like nothing could go wrong, till Jenny’s squeal catches you off guard.

“What is it?”

“It’s Tim Drake!” Jenny pulls you closer, pointing over to Tim who was standing by the campus entrance, a crowd starts to form, “Isn’t he dreamy. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

You stand there in shock. What is he doing here?! There’s no way this guy just came to look around, you know it. On instinct your presence disappears as you hide behind Jenny. Are you in trouble? Is he just here to mess with you? Why? Why? WHY?! Bang, bang, bang, your heart is beating so loud you swear everyone could hear it. Your breathing goes crazy as you grip onto yourself trying to calm down, you can’t though, you try and try but nothing is working. You’re hoping he doesn’t see you or recognize you if you’re lucky enough.

“Huh? Where did you go?” Jenny looks around confused till she turns and bumps into you, “Huh when did you..what’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe,” the words are hard to get out.

“It’s ok, I got you,” Jenny’s usual playful tone turns serious, “Look at me ok, focus on me”

You nod looking into her green eyes, she tells you to follow her breathing. And you do, in the out, in then out, in then out. Your breathing slowly steadies, but your body still shakes. Once you’re calm enough, she looks over you. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close into her. Before moving your head onto her chest to focus on the sound of her heartbeat.

“It’s ok, I’m here. I’m here for you, I’m not leaving,” hearing your sigh of relief she says, “What’s wrong?”

“I uh well…can we go to the breakfast place. I’ll explain there, I don’t feel comfortable being out here in the open.”

Jenny nods with determination, pulling you with her quickly. The last thing she wants you to feel is in danger. You stumble a bit surprised at how fast she can go, it takes you a bit to catch up with her pace. Once you two sit down at the restaurant you quietly explain a bit about why you’re uncomfortable. Her concern face turns red with anger as her nose scrunches up.

“Why those jerks! How dare they ignore you, oh why I outta wallop them! I don’t care how dreamie they are, no one ignores my best friend!” she stands up determined to go out and beat the hell out of Tim.

“Jenny please calm down, I don’t want anyone looking at us,” you grab her hand, “And I don’t want to be left alone.”

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Jenny takes a deep breath, “It just makes me so mad, they did that to you, it's not fair.”

“Yeah...I,” you stumble over your words a bit sniffling.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she pulls you in for a hug, “It’s ok to cry.”

You touch your cheek feeling how wet they are, you’re crying quite a bit. Damn, her words got to you, hearing her say it’s not fair, it feels good. It feels good that others see it the same way as you. She really cares about you so much and you just ugh this day is already filled with so many emotions and it barely even started. You feel like an other mess right now. You know she won't think you're weird, but your anxiety was telling you otherwise. Seeing you all scrunch up she rubs your back to comfort you, before gently nuzzling into you to make you laugh.

“Thanks, you’re the first person that’s not my dad who understands.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all. I’m just happy to be by your side,” she takes a breath, “So what do you want to do about your dumb brother Tim.”

“Nothing, hopefully he’ll tire himself out.”

“I would, but the coffee I drink is starting to hit,” a voice chimes up.

The two of you turn looking over and see Tim walking over to you two.

“How?” you gasp out

“You’re still on dad’s plan, so it was pretty easy to track your phone from there,” Tim tries to give you a reassuring smile, "I was actually hoping we can talk. Everyone misses you at home.

Jenny moves quickly to stand in front of you, “I can't speak for them if they want to talk with you, I'll never judge them for it. But if you touch my bestie or make them sad, I will bite you.”

‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ᗢ𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ‧₊˚

Tag list- @cherryblossomfox @feral-childs-word @mindscape123 @halfacupofcoffee @luckeclover @lovermaybabe @pieceartsworld @humanerror-24 @notso-redhairedwitch @purplecowboygarden @galaxypurplerose @pang-stuff @spiderofgotham @leftwonderlandpatrol @lakari01 @red-phantom-0 @ghost3029 @telila96114229-blog @red-phantom-0 @jellystar-star @thelovelymoonlightofthemidnight @yandereforme

[jeoncopi]

[2] EAGER DAYS | JJK

are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?

welcome to military jungkook's episodes!

—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).

IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.

BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.

pair: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.1k

what's in here?: a little bit of inside of their relationship, memories and flashbacks (jungkook’s pov). cute and a little bit of tension if you really squint lol.

[more episodes]

EPISODE 2. “short hair..”

freshly cut.

trimming his hair little by little has been jungkook’s plan for a while now. something about not wanting to get shocked or insecure if he ever looked bad being bald. ‘it’s best to get used to it like this, right?’ checking himself out at the salon, ‘I don’t look too bad.’ he mutters to himself.

‘I wonder what does y/n think..’ crosses his mind next.

—.•*•.—

“ta-da~”

boy-ish smile. you’re met with a brand new jungkook as soon as you open the door. a soft gasp escapes your lips when you scan his new haircut and you can’t help but drag his body inside your apartment just to glance at him in better lightning.

“oh my god.”

jungkook’s tone is playful when he chuckles and playfully asks with a semi smirk on his lips. “what? what?” walking you backwards as both of his hands are placed on your shoulders.

your hands gently resting on his firm chest. “why do you look so good?”

jungkook’s eyes already glistening with your answer. ‘that’s a relief’.

“so you like it?” he genuinely asks.

“are you serious?” you answer in complete bewilderment.

jungkook immediately nods his head many times. very cutely. “yes.” and so serious.

“I ffucking love it.” you emphasize the F which makes jungkook laugh very softly.

feeling extremely relaxed now knowing that his girl is totally into him all over again. — not that you weren’t before, but he just enjoys showing you new sides of him since for jungkook, to be able to maintain such a good and healthy relationship is to be able to keep things alive by doing new, different things.

you see, jungkook is a super active boyfriend. yeah, he does get tremendously lazy, because he is. and sometimes is very hard for him to even start something, but he also pushes himself and tries his best in moving around..

once he finds things that he likes, he just want to share it all with you and it’s been like that since the first day he met you. up to when you two became friends at eunwoo’s house, then the moment he acknowledged his feelings for you.. down to when he couldn’t resist it anymore, admitting to himself how badly he really wanted you.

for his good luck, you were also having quite a hurricane of unanswered questions and feelings on your mind around that time..

each time he thinks about it he can’t help but internally smile, if not physically.

— memory —

it had already passed two years since you two met and there you were, standing there with a cup of glass on your hands.. looking all pretty talking with a group of friends.

when jungkook really thinks about it, it all seems to always happen at his best friend’s events..

he’s walking towards you, making his mind to excuse you from them. you softly placed your empty cup at the side near to where you were standing.

“yes?” walking towards him.

jungkook swears he can feel everyone’s eyes on you both. but as always, all of it didn’t mattered as soon as his eyes met yours.

you were so pretty that night. wearing one of his favorite things ever..

a mini skirt.

he liked to imagine it was because of him each time you wore that.. and it’s all because of a past conversation you all were having between friends one day.

he even recalls the topic so well.

‘what’s an item someone can wear that you’ll say is definitely hot?’

— flashback —

jaeun asked, and it was already jungkook’s time to answer.

“yeah, I like when girls wear mini skirts. that definitely will do it for me.” he chuckles when everyone laughs and some others agree with him.

“oh.. so that’s something that turns you on?“ y/n sort of teases him. a cheeky smirk to her lips.

jungkook tries to humorously not roll his eyes. “eung.” answering with a nod towards you. “but not just with anybody though..” manspreading back into his seat. “..if they want to turn me on, I really do have to like them first.” and his gaze is so intense towards you.

hopefully nobody notices in the room.

eunwoo is the first to respond, “ahh, I get what you mean.”

“me too. actually,”

jungkook can sense some sort of intensity back on your gaze towards him when you respond,

“I’m the complete same. I can’t get turned on with a total stranger, you know?” with a smile on her face, also chuckling about it. “but now, if there’s someone I already know and I’m actually into them.. then that’s a whole different story.”

and there’s something about the way you act that it’s quite intriguing to jungkook. making him wanting to know if what you said was lowkey directed to him..

— end flashback —

..so it isn’t that wrong for him to think about it that way, right?

ever since that day.. he swears you started using more mini skirts from time to time.

or was it that it’s always whenever there’s a meeting with him?

just like a little pattern, he can be one hundred percent sure that you just knew where and when you needed to wear one at the right time and places.

as if you knew whenever he could attend an event or not, how come each time he saw you in pictures of dates he couldn’t make it, at all times, you were just as pretty but using those nice jeans or loose clothes he also loved so much.

never a mini skirt.

he can even picture the first time he saw you wearing one so perfectly. like a brand new painting being freshly made before his eyes,

he specifically remembers you going down the stairs, slowly but surely, still haven’t finished getting ready with the way you were fixing your earrings but he swears he has never seen someone to be so effortlessly stunning before.

his heart almost dropping, pushing and breaking out of his chest.. he didn’t even noticed how he wasn’t even breathing. holding his breath the entire time with that little sequence.

it’s not so much different from how you were feeling now, standing in front of her. “can you come upstairs with me for a sec?” he wished to not sound too creepy.

“um, sure.” even when he can tell you’re a bit confused, you still give him a comfort smile. you know she trusted you and you’re very glad that she does, because you definitely wouldn’t want her to do things she won’t like or even feel uncomfortable with.

—.•*•.—

“there’s something going on?” y/n asked when I slowly guided her to the currently empty, second living room.

“no—yes, actually.” I correct myself as nervous as I try not sound and my fingers slowly fidget with each other.

your face is rather more of concern when you notices my strange behavior. “..what’s wrong?”

but I chuckle a little when I glance at your reaction. “it’s nothing bad or sad, I promise. you can chill a little.”

making you chuckle back, “oh, was my face looking too worried?” cupping your own face as you speak. and I thought that was so cute.

I try to hide my face as I feel my cheeks burn in red, sort of looking down at the floor. engaging to the thought that I was lucky enough that you actually could not see it given to the poor lightning.

“mm just a little.” I paused. “actually? yes.” my tone still shy as I joke around and you laugh about it. but then I start rubbing one hand through the back of my neck when silence arrives and you start to speak,

“so..” taking one step near me. “um,” you stop. “I can’t see you very well from here.. do you mind if I get closer to you?”

and my heart jumped. “mm-yeah.. I mean, yeah. it’s fine.” trying to act cool, I only lean back on what it seems to be like a marbled table.

you chuckle when you get comfortable beside me.

“you’re very cute sometimes,” y/n mutters with a smile in between her teeth, almost as if you were admitting that more to yourself than me.

and you playfully push my shoulder with your upper body when you ask, “so, why are we here?”

with a smile too, I feel my heart beating hard when my face that it’s now facing yours, is very heed of how close you are.

“I.. I wanted to make you a question..”

“sure, what is it?” your eyes so attentive.

I gain courage to stand in front of you. sighing to myself when both of my hands are at each side of your body resting at the table instead of actually touching you. but you’re oh, so close that it’s almost as If I was trapping you against me.

still.. as careful as I am, you don’t show any sign of discomfort more than just give him glistening eyes that seem to be full of curiosity.

must be a great sign, right?

“I want to know..” I paused. “what do you think about me?”

and there’s a couple seconds of silence.

“..a-about you?” your voice rather feathery.

“romantic wise.” and I don’t even think of playing. it was now or never.

“romanticall-“

“yes, y/n.” interrupting her softly, “I want to know what’d you think of me.” I’m determined.

“why?” you genuinely ask.

“isn’t it obvious why i’m asking?”

you softly nod your head to the sides and I can’t help but tsk as I lower my head with a grin before directly pierce my eyes into yours.

“I think it’s very much clear that i’m interested, y/n. I’m interested in you.” I confess. pausing with a soft and shy smile. “I like you and I think I’ve been doing it for quite some time now.”

your expression, rather surprised. “s-since.. when?”

“I think it’s been over two years now.”

you slightly rise your eyebrows, shocked. “that’s literally the time we’ve been knowing each other-“

“exactly.” and my lips are slightly pouting when I answer.

you don’t say nothing else other than just stare at him with a shocked expression.

given to your silence, all I can think about is how this is such a bad sign. so I take a step back or at least try, since you grabbed my right arm when you say,

“wait.”

so I stand there, only staring at you.

“I’ve been hiding my feelings towards you for way too long.”

I blink several times, feeling my heart rise up all over again.

maybe there might be hope.

“aren’t you saying this to make me feel good?” I really wanted you to be more direct.

“do I seem like someone who’ll play with your feelings, jungkook?” and you sort of tease me, but I don’t mind.

“not really.. but again, you’ll never know.” joking back at you when you punch my shoulder. “ouch!”

“I do like you.” you pause. “a lot, actually.” playing with my fingers when you give me a shy smile. “maybe no longer than you but..” sigh. “it’s been a while.”

…that night, despite you two being incredibly happy of mutually liking each other, you really didn’t kiss or did anything else rather than still being friends during a few days.

reason why?

simply because we wanted to make things right. I wanted to ask her out properly, have a few official dates here and there and then.. get to it. didn’t lasted too long when I was already asking her to be mine though. being too way into her.. it was pretty clear I wasn’t gonna keep counting down days after all this years.

— end memory —

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” jungkook smiles, embracing your body into a hug. “I was so nervous you’ll tease me about it..”

“hey!” you softly punch his shoulders. “why would I do that?” cupping his cheeks. yes, it was your favorite thing to do. “I know how you feel about it babe, I could never.” kissing his pouty lips.

“but if l didn’t feel this way, would you think about it?” he raises an eyebrow.

it makes you laugh. “no, silly.”

“why?”

“because you’ll look handsome anyways.”

but then jungkook furrowed his eyebrows into a fake angry face. “just handsome?”

making you roll your eyes as you laugh. “and sexy..” leaving a kiss on his lips with each word.

“and pretty..”

kiss,

“and cute..”

kiss,

“and hot..”

kiss,

and all jungkook does is smile and blush as you do so.

“that’s what I wanted to hear..”

a/n: hope you liked this one! just wanted to add a little bit more to how their relationship was born ^^. to give you a hint of how things will go.. episode 3, it’s fun to read imo, ep. 4 is when the real thing really starts ;)

as always, let me know what you think about these series so far !! I love talking to you and reading your thoughts 🫶🏼.

— TAGLIST: @purplebtsmagic @looneybleus @eyesforjungkook @leah-rose03 @jungkooks21 @kookiescutie

[skzstannie]

Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️

"You're awake!"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt

summary: ^^ see request

A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."

"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.

"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."

You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.

"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.

"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.

"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.

Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."

"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.

Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.

Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.

It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.

The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.

As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.

Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.

"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.

All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.

Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.

"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.

"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.

~ ~ ~

You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.

Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.

After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.

You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.

Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.

Really angry.

You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.

You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.

Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.

He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.

You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.

"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.

"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.

"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.

Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.

You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.

"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.

"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.

"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"

Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.

"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."

You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.

She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.

The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.

"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.

"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."

The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.

~ ~ ~

The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.

You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.

You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.

Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.

"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.

He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.

"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.

He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.

"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."

"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.

Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"

"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."

You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.

"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."

Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.

"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.

"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!

Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.

"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.

"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."

You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.

The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.

Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.

Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.

Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.

~ ~ ~

It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.

Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.

You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.

Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.

The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.

You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.

However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.

You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.

You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.

Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.

You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.

"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.

He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.

"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.

"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.

"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.

"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.

~ ~ ~

You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.

You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.

"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.

"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."

"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."

His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.

While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.

"Really."

"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.

They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.

"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.

"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.

"I certainly do."

[nymphus-fan-account]

Jealous Mike fic recs

eyecatcher by smoosnoom (moonsooms) | 9k words

“Nah, man,” Lucas shakes his head, leaning back as he snacks on an apple, “he got, like, buff. Do you see his arms?”

Mike does, in fact, see Will’s arms. He has not stopped seeing his arms.

“She definitely sees his arms,” Dustin very unhelpfully points out, waggling his eyebrows, and Mike gets the overwhelming urge to bash his own head in.

OR

While volunteering at the Hawkins' help center, it seems like every girl around has a newfound interest in Will Byers, and Mike doesn't like it.

Comedy gold 😭 I love moon's works so much

All I wanted was you by regretcassette | 8k words

Will gets asked out on a date, naturally Mike comes along to keep everything safe. Ft. Seventeen year Olds, rain fight parallels, jealous Mike Wheeler, unrequited affection but its not between byler lol

You tell me, haven't read it

Operation Wax by draconabraxas | 41k words | 8/? chapters, still updating

After a humiliating homophobic verbal attack against Will, Max and Will decided that enough was enough. Being anything but straight was dangerous in a place like Hawkins, and the only way out of the spotlight was to blend in.

Will just wished that Max didn't name their plan Operation Wax.

OR

Will and Max fake date as a way to stay safe in the closet and accidentally cause a civil war within the Party.

Madwise fake dating and creating a drama?!! I'm so here for it.

closeface by miketozier (smallcuts) | 13k words

“You said I was bad at managing my time between my girlfriend and my best friend but you’re basically doing the same thing.”

“Girlfriend?!” Will spits out, thoroughly shell-shocked.

“I don’t get it! You could’ve told me you had a crush on someone, I would’ve—and when did you ever talk to Robin? You move to California and all of a sudden you’ve got all these girls hanging off of you and you’re interested in older girls—“ Mike’s voice embarrassingly cracks. He decides to quit while he’s ahead before he delves into the forbidden.

OR

In the wake of the apocalypse, Will befriends Robin and Mike thinks they're dating BYE. (ft. Paintinggate)

LMAOO this poor boy (haven't read it)

It's just polyester by mayfixlds, okwillthewise | 60k words | 13/13 chapters

“I just can’t believe he’s got a boyfriend and-”

“It’s not you?” Max smacks on the lollipop

OR

Will gets a boyfriend and Mike gets jealous.

Be the Boy by blueremedy | 17k words

“Jonathan…” His voice was high and resigned. “You know there’s no way I could do that. There’s no point—he likes girls. Plus, he’s going through a break up. And all this Vecna bullshit…” He sighed heavily, voice crumpling up like a tin can the more he spoke. “The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.”

In a blink Mike snatched up the walkie with trembling hands, shoving the plastic brick’s speaker hard against his ear. So. El was right. Will did have a crush after all.

OR

Mike's nosy ass hears something he shouldn't and he gets jealous of himself

Read it a few times before going to sleep. Very cute and fluffy 💕

i think we're alone now by lumism | 3.5 k words

“Whatever," Lucas shrugs. "You’re just jealous that you aren’t getting any.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, like he knows something the rest of them don't. Will looks like he wants to drown him. He probably deserves it.

OR

Will has a love bite, the Party freaks out about it, and Mike is jealous of himself

And another fic where Mike gets jealous of himself. I'll be honest, I don't remember the plot but I remember getting many positive emotions

Everything comes back to you by wasabi8000 | 120k words | 26/26 chapters

The world is ending, which means for the time being, Will is living at the Wheeler’s house with Mike and El. Which means his life is once again a third-wheeling roller rink nightmare, and he’s basically invisible to Mike.

Until Jonathan gives him $20 to go to an art sale, and he meets Tobias, a guy just as into art as he is.

It’s not long before him and Tobias start dating.

And then suddenly, Mike’s paying attention to him after all.

OR

Will gets a boyfriend. Mike doesn’t like it.

TWENTY SIX?? 🤯 I could never. Maybe I should try though

Jealousy (turning saints into the sea) by wasabi8000

Will has had to watch Mike and Eleven for years, and as much as it kills him, he's learned to accept it.

He's also accepted that for the time being, no one has really shown much interest in him. And he's fine with that.

Until they pull off at a gas station and a random guy hits on Will.

OR

The one where Mike finally gets jealous.

Hehehehehehehe

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 11 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: The days leading up to the ball become fewer but a harsh reality hits you leaving you more conflicted than you already were. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: No real warnings a/n: So yeah...it's been a while. Sorry it took me so long to update this story and sorry it's so short but I wanted to bring this one back into the light. I know I keep on saying the ball is in the next chapter but it really will be in part 12 I promise. I wanted to make this chapter longer but I figured I made you guys wait long enough...plus I needed to reintroduce something I spoke about in the first chapter. Start from the beginning

The next couple of days go by in a blur. 

Extra long lessons with Jungkook after my seemingly never ending lectures have my head pounding. 

"Miss y/n?" my professor calls me over to his desk, finishing up my last lecture before I have to go see Jungkook. "Yes?" I ask and wait patiently for him to hopefully get to thee point sooner rather than later. 

"The submission deadline for the writing contest is this weekend. Have you submitted your piece?" he asks, looking up at me through his glasses from his seated position.

I curse at myself internally, having completely spaced about it.

"I haven't but I plan on doing so as soon as I can! The deadline is Sunday night right?" I pray, hoping that I'm correct. "It's Saturday night at 11:59 pm. Do you think you'll be able to complete it in time?" he questions, adjusting his glasses. 

"Yes, of course. They won't be holding the awards ceremony until next month though correct?" I ask and he hums, confirming my suspicions. "Should be around two or three weeks after depending on how many submissions they get" 

I nod and thank him once more for the opportunity and luckily the reminder as well and quickly rush out. I choose to text Jungkook this time the reason why I'll be a few minutes late again, hoping that'll keep him from nagging me about it too much

~~~~~

"You seem...distracted today" Jungkook points out, watching as I wondered off in thought for the fifth time today. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. What were you saying?" I ask, feeling guilty since he's gone out of his way to go through the guest list of the rsvp'd attendees of the ball this weekend. Making sure to tell me a little about each family to hopefully prepare me for the kinds of people that'll be there and how to compose myself around them.

"Let's take a break, otherwise you'll start mixing everyone up" he chuckles and sits down in a chair that's more or less facing me. 

"Are you alright?" he asks, tilting his head and taking note of the wrinkles between my brows as I'm clearly fighting some sort of internal battle that doesn't involve him today. 

"I have this writing contest that I had completely forgotten about and the due date is this Saturday" I sigh, slumping in my chair but this time he luckily doesn't scold me for it. 

"The same day as the charity ball..." he trails off and I nod, covering my face with my hands.

"He told me about it over a month ago" I grumble and Jungkook chuckles warmly at my inner turmoil. I groan as a response and he decides to not tease me about it anymore. 

After a while of sitting in silence he pulls my hands away from my face, making me glare at him as a response.

"Today is Tuesday correct?" he asks and I respond with a sigh of a small 'yes'. "I have an idea then" he says, peaking my interest. "Why don't we spend part of our time on our lessons and the rest of the time on your paper" he offers making my brows furrow.

"You'd do that for me?" I say, sitting up straight in my chair, trying to figure out if this is a joke or not but he simply nod.

"I don't see why not. You've been doing well in all of your lessons with me and I think you're more than prepared for the ball so there's no need to beat a dead horse. We'll just spend a little bit of our time getting to know the attendees and do a dance or two to keep you sharp and then I'll help you with your paper" he says and get's up to clear a space on his desk. 

"You'll help me?" I question, his willingness to sacrifice our lesson time for my extracurriculars surprising.

"I know it's important to you and if there's any way I could be of any sort of help to you then just let me know. You can work at my desk if you'd like" he says, picking up my bag that he knows has my laptop in it and bringing it over to said desk. 

It's times like these where he's sending me mixed signals of going from an etiquette teacher to someone who seems to truly care about me that makes me almost want to ask him questions like 'What are we?' or 'What are your intentions with me?' but even that last one is too open ended. 

"Are you alright?" he asks, when I haven't moved a muscle to walk over to his desk yet leaving me shaking my head in a way to get me out of my train of thought. 

"Yes. Sorry, yes I'm fine. I'm just trying to figure out what sort of topic I'd like to write about" I explain, owning up to what my partial train of thought might've been earlier. 

"Well what sort of contest is it? Is it for an article? A study?" he asks, going at it with a more academic approach, which makes sense in this case it's anything but that.

"It's creative writing. Basically anything from stories of love to poems of heartbreak to even the most suspenseful horror thrillers you could come across!" I say, getting more excited as time goes by, thinking about all the possibilities and topics I could write about. 

Picking one though is going to be difficult.

"Have you chosen your genre yet?" he asks and I plop myself down on his desk chair, sighing and opening up the blank document that I've been staring at off and on for weeks. 

"You haven't even started it?" he sighs and I shake my head, disheartened at the thought of waisting so much of my precious free time with nothing to show for it.

"What do you usually write about?" he asks, helping me work through the creative process. "Mostly love stories" I sigh and when I look up at him I see him smiling down at me, "Don't laugh" I glare and he holds his hands up in surrender. 

"I wasn't laughing, I was smiling. There's a difference" he smirks and brings a chair over to sit near me. "Yeah well don't do that. It makes me feel like you're mocking me for being a lovesick schoolgirl" I grumble and he chuckles. 

"Aren't you?" he says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin on his fist, giving me that infuriatingly attractive grin he knows does wonders on a girl's nervous system. "No, I'm not. Now would you please be quiet if you're not going to be helpful" I huff, pulling the flyer out of my bag and giving it a once over. 

"Okay enough with the teasing I'll help" he says and looks over my shoulder to check it out as well before I hand it to him and go looking through my Pinterest board to see if I can find some inspiration.

"Have you ever written a love story set in the eighteen hundreds? Something to do with kings and queens? Princes and Princesses?" he suggests and I know for a fact that I haven't. "Isn't that a little too cheesy with the whole fairytale kind of route?" I say, pointing out how cliché it would be.

"Not if I help you" he offers and I look at him suspiciously. "What sorts of people do you think I would have to study in order to be a proper etiquette teacher?" he says, his words answering the question I had telepathically asked. 

"I guess you'd be the perfect collaborator in that respect" I admit and he nods and moves his chair closer making me lean away from him as a response. 

"You know I don't bite pretty now come on, we've got some work to do" he taunts, slipping in that pet name he knows messes with my head, leaving me scoffing in response before turning back to the blank document staring me in the face on my computer screen. 

~~~~~

The next two days we do just as he had said, spending an hour or two on my lessons and the rest on my story. However rushed it is I feel like it's my best story yet. 

The research on the time period has been simple since Jungkook's had all the answers and if not he finds them out for me, making this whole piece seem even more authentic.

When I take breaks Jungkook pours over the text, doing edits here and there and talking me through the scenes to help formulate some parts a little more artistically, making the regal setting come to life. 

Friday has been a different story, as both deadlines approach us the time we have left is in conflict of where our priorities should lie.

"We can skip our lesson today" Jungkook finally says after I've put my heels on. "But tomor-" "You're ready" he say, cutting me off mid sentence. "Spend the rest of your time on your story" he smiles softly and places a hand on my shoulder before leaving the room, no doubt to get us some sustenance to keep us going.

Something about the interaction made my heart flutter. His confidence in me as well as his want for me to spend time on something I'm truly passionate about makes a sort of funny feeling settle in my stomach. 

Am I-?

"Black or green tea this time?" he asks, coming back into the room with a little tray of food and tea pot ready to envelop the tea leaves of choice. "Black please, I need all the energy I can get" he chuckles and does just that, adding a few scoops to the pot before closing the lid and letting it steep. 

"Were you able to work on it again once you went home?" he asks, bringing my bag over to his desk and pulling my laptop out for me. "I did but it's hard to work on it without yo- without being here" I say, not wanting to admit that I in some way needed him, my cheeks heating up at the slip up.

"Right" he smiles, not sparing me a glance as he plugs in my charger and pulls the chair out for me. 

"Is everything alright?" he asks once he sees my hesitance in coming closer but I shake my head and as a result shake myself out of the headspace I had allowed myself to trail into.

"There's nothing to be nervous about" he says, reading me perfectly like he always does. "What if it's not good enough?" I sigh, my hands resting in my lap, not making moves to reach for the keys. 

"It's a beautiful story told from the heart about a love so true one could only dream to experience something so heartbreaking" he says and his compliment however sincere seems unable to reach me now.

Once he's seen my head droop further he turns my chair around and crouches in front of me, tilting my chin up the slightest bit. "Your writing is beautiful. Anyone who's eyes get to land on a single word of yours should thank their lucky stars" he says making me smile just the slightest bit.

"There she is" he says with a warm tone, one I had never heard before making my heart flutter once again. 

"Now come on" he says spinning me back around to face the screen. "We've got a deadline to meet do we not?" he says and places his hands on my shoulders as a way to show some confidence and solidarity, believing in me until his last breath.

"We do indeed" I chuckle softly and finally rest my fingers upon those familiar keys.

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[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

[ybklix]

Wearing lose shirt with nothing underneath & sitting on his lap ?? 😵‍💫 Lee know?

minho’s lap😮‍💨

take it off

♡ lee minho

⟡summary: Your boyfriend loves to tease you and make you feel good even after a tiring day at work.

❀ pairing: idol lee know x fem reader

♡ genre - warnings: smut, established relationship, dom! minho, teasing, slight dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex

word count: 3k

a/n: my first request ig wohoo u little minhoes, is this how it works? lol, i had this in my head since minho is tio by zayn coded

You missed Minho, you haven't seen him for days because he was busy at work, you knew that during these dates it was difficult to see him, and then it became almost impossible once he returned to make his presentations, even staying all night in the place. But tonight he promised to see you, lately he ended up so tired that all he did was go to his dorm to rest, sadly you had to insist that he agreed to see you, he also missed you intensely but when it came to his work he got too serious, after all, he had a reputation and image to maintain.

You had cooked for Minho variety of his favorite dishes, you were a little exhausted but it would be worth it to see his tender face light up when he ate something delicious. You were in the kitchen, setting everything up when you heard the characteristic sound of your door indicating that someone was coming in, you smiled broadly and almost run to your foyer to see who it was. Minho was wearing blue jeans, a simple white shirt and a thin jacket loose to his body, he was completely covered even though it was a hot summer day in the city, he couldn't risk being recognized.

You pounced on him and hugged him by the neck, you had missed him so much you couldn't get enough of saying it, Minho reciprocated the hug right away, holding tightly to your lower back.

“Oh, y/n” Minho said while he could still breathe in the smell of your hair.

“Don't let us stop seeing each other for so long” you warned him in a stern but gentle tone once you parted.

Minho smiled as he watched you tenderly and nodded, removing his jacket and face mask.

“What's that?” you asked him as you noticed he was carrying plastic bags from somewhere he shopped in his hand.

“Ah, a dessert for later, come on let's go” Minho added confidently, walking into your apartment.

Minho walked next to you to the kitchen with his hand gently on your butt and finally saw what you had cooked for him.

“Woah, it looks delicious. Thank you, love” Minho walked over to you giving you a kiss on your head.

You watched his round eyes sparkle as he sat down to eat, you wanted to hear everything from him, even though you texted daily and were updated on every single thing he did, you wanted to hear him talk and talk.

“I'll take a picture and post it” he said before picking up the chopsticks.

You smiled at the horrendous angle he took the pictures and joined him for dinner. You didn't want to ask him about work, his face looked a little dull and tired that you didn't know if it was right to start talking about it, but there was nothing else to say, since he spent more time at the company than with you, you both knew that starting a relationship would be sometimes a lonely dynamic, still it was worth every second when you were with him, as if he rewarded you double and you forgot that you don't see him that often. Still you tried to be gentle and say to him:

“Did you have a long day today?”

Minho looked at you and stopped eating for a second.

“Yes, kind of, it was long because it was a day of waiting and small recordings, there were no rehearsals so I found it tedious.”

You could tell it was one of those days by seeing his perfectly coiffed hair and light makeup a bit already worn on his face.

“Did you pick the best pictures for the album?” you said to him amused.

“Sure, I posed like this” he replied amused making a random pose by putting his hands behind his head.

Minho smiled, adorably raising his high cheekbones and you caught his laughter. He kept telling you more details, you adored listening to him talk, he even shared his upcoming schedule to see which days he could dedicate his day only to you, you sighed watching him, sometimes you wanted to be a clingy girlfriend going everywhere he went but, you had to keep your posture.

“When we go to Busan, you're coming with me, I'm not asking you” he commented seriously looking at you intensely, you knew him well, yes he meant it but his intention of being intense was just him being a bit of a tease.

You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek; after a few minutes he wanted to tidy up and wash all the dishes used as he was always helpful no matter what, you begged to help him as he insisted that you should stay seated to rest the food.

You were next to him, helping him to dry the dishes while Minho washed each pot cautiously, you loved the closeness of his body, honestly you were totally willing for tonight to be one of those tender ones where later he takes a shower and you both go to sleep cuddled up, but you lost yourself in the movement of his big soapy hands, the skillful crush of the sponge and his marked arms with notorious veins... that's when you realized that you didn't just need Minho's company, you needed everything from him, and when you least thought about it, you remembered that it had been long days without sex. You decided to blame your random horny thoughts to the heat of the day, despite having your apartment cool, outside it was a total mess, strong sun during the day and dry and hot nights, you wore shorts and a loose button down blouse that Minho bought you on one of his many trips, he always did that, he bought something for you, but definitely his favorite thing to give you as a gift was clothes that matched his.

You were relieved that Minho didn't notice that you suddenly became aroused at the thought of his hands touching your body, nor that he noticed you looking at him shamelessly, he was just there innocently helping you wash your dishes; otherwise if he had noticed he would start with his double meaning comments and his arrogant little smile, you didn't want it now, you felt completely needy that you didn't need any more humiliation by your boyfriend.

You both finished and Minho decided to rest a bit in your living room making himself comfortable on the couch.

“You'll stay here to sleep, right?” you asked standing in front of him.

“Mmhum” gasped Minho as he stretched his body closing his eyes and trying to relax, “Seungmin is in charge of the dorm, I told him not to disturb at all.”

Minho stared at you, you smiled and were ready to sit next to him until you noticed how he patted his thigh indicating you to sit on his lap, you couldn't be happier and fell on his legs hugging his neck, positioning your body sideways on top of him. You loved sitting on his lap, his thighs were strong and worked, you were so comfortable and your ass accommodated perfectly with no problem, Minho also knew how much you loved it too, as well as slapping his thighs with your ass as you jumped on his cock.

For him it was simple, when he wanted to have you, he did, he would get hard in seconds when it came to you, he still loved to tease you and prolong the process, torturing you both.

“How much did you miss me?” he murmured with an arrogant tone in a low, thick voice.

You slowly lost your sanity as you looked into his leering eyes and heard his tone, oh god, you thought, of course he was going to fuck you tonight, you were so excited that your lower part started to react. Minho was holding you tightly by the waist with his left hand while with his right one, he caressed your thighs.

“You know that I missed you so much, Minho” you stared at him.

“I needed you too, princess.”

He said and moved closer to you to give you a slow, fiery kiss, you needed him so much, you wanted to jump on his cock now, you were so wet and ready, you wanted to feel full, you could feel him too, so hard in a short time, but Minho… he liked slow play and it was killing you inside.

You moaned between the kiss and pulled your body back as you felt Minho's heavy, warm hand rub your center on top of your garment, you knew perfectly well that Minho could keep you like this for a long time, kissing you hotly until your lips swelled; his hand on your waist began to slide inside your loose blouse finally feeling his touch of skin on yours, making you feel so good, Minho moved his hand up to notice your exposed tits, cupping them tightly as he moved his kisses down your jaw and neck, he was still surprised by the sudden delight of feeling your breasts in his hand.

“Why aren't you wearing anything underneath, princess?” he gasped between kisses, feeling his heavy, hot breath on your neck.

You hated talking when Minho made you so bad, your breathing was so ragged and ragged, but knowing him, you knew he always wanted an answer; if you didn't he would make a sudden move on you and growl through his teeth 'I'm talking to you'.

“It's a hot day and... I'm in the comfort of my home, Minho…” you tried to sound as poised as possible.

Minho smiled sideways and squeezed your nipples and the grip on your pussy tighter, causing you to reflexively close your legs a little.

“Or is it because you love to tease me and were so ready for me, kitten, wearing clothes with easy access” Minho whispered in your ear, massaging your breasts harder, “Besides, how do I know you weren't out there like a little slut going shopping to make dinner with nothing on underneath.”

You shook softly, when he made those kinds of comments you knew you were in for a bit of physical punishment so you bit your lip at the memory of his heavy hand on your ass.

“Stand up for a moment baby” he ordered you in a rough voice, you almost moaned as you stopped feeling his hands on you, it felt so wrong when he stopped touching you, “Turn around” he said and positioned you with your back to him.

You listened as he sat up a little from the couch and suddenly you felt his hand squeeze your thigh and then both them search for the button of your shorts, deftly removing them, you were so excited by every slow movement your boyfriend made and it was so unexpected, in a second he could kneel you down and make you suck his cock, or bend you over and start penetrating you, curiosity was eating you to know what he was going to do with you, but you just decided to enjoy every second of it.

Minho took the elastics of your panties and pulled them tight leaving your sensitive and wet pussy exposed, he massaged your ass with two of his hands and you felt a soft kiss on your skin, suddenly nothing, you turned around confused and found your boyfriend trying to pull down his tight pants from his thighs, despite being a bit baggy, once he sat down they became tight on his big legs and finally free him of that denim that burdened his cock. You bit your lip internally screaming to feel his stiff penis in you; Minho pulled down his underwear releasing his throbbing sex full of energy.

“Come here” he grabbed your arm tightly, “I want to smack your cute ass a little.”

You frowned confused trying to have an explanation, “But..” you tried to say but Minho was being rough moving you.

You swallowed nervously and put your abdomen on his thighs, leaving your ass at his mercy as you felt his erection rubbing a little on your waist.

“Don't expect me to be gentle” moaned Minho, lifting your big, loose blouse a little and giving you a hard spanking and then squeezing the injured area.

You gasped in pain, and pleasure as you felt his fingers fuck your entrance all of a sudden, Minho gave you another four hard spanks with his right hand, leaving his hand branded on your ass while with his other hand he mercilessly moved his fingers in you, you were so close to cumming from the pain and pleasure that you felt a little guilty that you find something like that so fucking exciting, but that was Minho, if he didn't make you suffer a little in sex then it wasn't him, even when you made love which was supposed to be sweet and romantic, he fucked you so deep that he made you dig your nails into his back.

Minho saw your legs contract waiting for you to unload all your tension, you were about to tell him you were going to cum, but he stepped forward and stopped, pulling you by your hair with his left hand and telling you full of desire, “Come here, I'm not done yet, you can't cum until I tell you.”

He made you sit back on his lap for which you moaned for your newly hurt ass, this time turning your back to him, you moaned as you felt his hard cock press against your back, he grabbed your waist a little to lift you up and position his dick between your wet labia, making you both moan, the firmness of his manhood felt so good pressed against your soaked cunt, enveloping it perfectly that you wanted to start moving, but you were completely in submissive mode, it was obvious that you couldn't do anything because it was one of those times when your boyfriend took total control.

Minho moved your loose hair out of the way and positioned his face on the side of your neck. He was so turned on he wanted to see everything of you, he was so needy for your pussy squeezing his cock but the long wait turned him on more, more with your needy gaze and sizzling gasps.

“Take off your shirt, baby” he commanded in your ear.

You were about to bend over and take it off over your head like any normal garment but Minho stopped you, “No, no, do it button by button.”

You almost whimpered at the feel of his throbbing cock under your dripping pussy and you being able to do nothing about it; with trembling hands you tried to do it as fast as you could while Minho watched with so much amusement.

“Good girl, you're a good girl for me” Minho murmured as he saw you managed to do as he asked, “Let's get it off” he gently slid your blouse off, finally leaving you naked.

“I want you to show me…” he muttered again, taking your dominant hand and bringing it to your cunt, “How much you missed me, I want to see how you played with your pussy pretending it was me, did you do that, princess?” gasped Minho.

“Yes” you moaned as you touched his tip pressing against your pussy.

It wasn't a lie, the nights were long and boring without Minho and your only companion at times was your faithful vibrator, but nothing compared to him.

You settled your body a little, rubbing your wetness against his erection and let yourself lean on his chest as you tried to stimulate your clitoris giving him the show he wanted. Your squirts were falling on his cock, you closed your eyes letting yourself go as he squeezed your thigh and your tit. Minho was getting the best view possible, watching you squirm for him as you rubbed his swollen cock.

You gasped, your entrance was a little hard to reach in that position and more so with your boyfriend's big erect dick between your folds.

“Were you moaning my name while you were doing it alone, you dirty slut?”

“Mmm… Mi-minho” you whimpered as you continued to play with your clit and subtly rubbed yourself on his cock.

Minho was so lubed too, he moaned to feel your little movements, if you kept this up he was about to cum too. You started stimulating yourself slowly but your heart rate was getting higher and higher, speeding up your own movements in your pussy too, you were so ready to cum on your boyfriend's cock that you were frustrated that you didn't want your own fingers to be the ones satisfying you, so you thought you were going to give him what he craved so much.

“Fuck me, Minho, do it now, please” you whined in his ear.

Minho smiled to hear you begging.

“Then sit on my cock now, princess, take it and ride it well” he gasped.

Agitated, trying to get back all your senses as you incorporated feeling the incredible wetness of your pussy and let yourself fall on Minho's cock, sliding so easily and smoothly inside of you, still, you ached. You both sighed in pleasure finally as you were joined and you began to jump up and down non-stop being heard in the room the grotesque sound of your wet cunt, your ass falling hard on Minho's thighs and the gasps of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess, cum all over my cock now” Minho whispered excitedly.

Minho helped you by holding your waist and when you felt a little overwhelmed you let yourself lean on his chest still with his t-shirt on and he began to ram you hard lifting his hips, while he played with your clit. You felt him so close too, you whimpered with bated breath and fell surrendered in orgasm, sitting on his cock and thighs.

“You did it so well, princess and dinner was delicious, thank you” Minho told you agitated but sweetly, stroking your hair.

[xxchumanixx]

I know it says requests closed, ok? But i'll leave this here until you take requests ❤️

also i looove your work sm

can you do one with tim bradford x fem!reader with a lot of angst, hurt to comfort something bad? like the reader gets hurt, kidnapped something very bad outside work.

the reader is lucy's best friend and tim's gf, maybe the reader being a rookie at the same time as lucy

and the reader gets in some trouble and it becomes progressively worse but she didn't say anything to anyone bc she's a cop and think she can handle it?

but in the end it's like really bad and tim is desperate looking for her, and his world crushes when he finds her?

something similar to 2x11 (that ep broke me into pieces and the scene with tim and lucy buried my heart right in hell) but his desperation is waay worse bc it's about the reader and he loves her

lots of love ❤️

Breaking Point

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: a lot of angst, hurt, mentions of blood, fluff

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello love, omg it's been soo long I'm soooo sorry! This is not proofread yet, but I hope you'll like it! Love you!

Also, don't know if anyone else has that problem, but every time I make something fat or cursive, it changes the whole text after a few seconds. This happened after an update, and it's SO annoying!

OMG

Anyways, enjoy!

Listen, I know what you might think now.

Okay, maybe I don't. But to get captured and tortured wasn't your intention when this started.

Hell, of course it wasn't.

But you couldn't have predicted this either.

Neither could you have predicted how an encounter with a certain gangster would end - with you doing whatever he says.

At least he had the decency to only let you make his wrongdoings disappear.

It all went good.

That was, until one day you said no to him. It took him ten hours of his patience to kidnap and torture you, leave you for every cop to see what a shitty job you had done for this city.

And to your fellow colleagues.

You had only graded p2, together with Lucy and John. Lucy and you were best friends; it had instantly clicked once you started your training together.

You had been the first to know about her and John, had helped her through the heartbreak and all that had followed.

She, in turn, was the first to know about you and Tim.

You had started dating when you were still a rookie - luckily not his, or else it would have made everything a lot more complicated.

So, when everything seemed to go perfect, it had to come some shit along the way. It just couldn't have stayed perfect, could it?

This shit was named Luis El Ferno.

A wealthy son of an even wealthier mafia family that had a thing for speeding and collecting tickets. Along with other things that piled up in his file.

And as luck had it, he sought you out to be the perfect candidate for blackmailing. So when the first picture of your almost naked form landed in your mail, you had the shock of your life.

The photo was paired with a letter, saying if you didn't do as he said, he'd ruin your career. And not only that.

He'd ruin you completely.

So you complied, hoping to handle this on your own. Tim was clueless, as was the rest of them all.

Things soon took turns, though, getting worse the more time passed. Then, when he wanted you to do more than just cleaning up his mess, you said no.

You told yourself it was for the better.

You were a cop after all. You could handle this, right?

Big mistake.

When he found out he couldn't threaten you with the photos anymore, at least not enough for you to give in, he let his men kidnap you.

They punched you and used you as their personal boxing bag. They didn't stop when you were pleading, and they didn't stop when you fell silent.

They only stopped when there was nothing left to beat.

And when you closed your eyes, you had never been more grateful for the comfort of nothingness.

----

"You have to be kidding me!" Lucy laughed, leaning back on the sofa. "No way! Tell me you're lying!"

You laughed with her, shaking your head. "I wish I was." you said. "It was so embarrassing! For a moment, I thought he'd let me walk back to the station!"

She laughed louder, biting her lip.

"I would have loved to see that!" she said. "I can imagine the look on Tim's face so clearly!"

You shook your head, smiling. "Yeah, you should have seen the way he tried to keep his cool." you told her. "The poor lady excused herself so many times that her puke was already dry when she finally was in the car."

Lucy doubled over with laughter, the glass in her hand shaking threateningly. "Oh my god!" she breathed out, wiping at her eyes. "Damn, I need that body cam material!"

Eyes widening, you shook your head. "God, no!"

She laughed even more at your shocked expression, wiping at her eyes once more. Oh, she would somehow get that footage, she was sure of that.

It was a night with your bestie, a tradition that had developed early in your training as a rookie. You would sit together, drink cocktails, and do whatever you wanted.

Painting your nails, watching sappy movies, or simply talking.

It was something you never would have missed out on. So, when you didn't show up that day and Lucy didn't get a message from you saying that you wouldn't make it, either, she started to get worried.

She knew you better than most people did, so she knew something must be wrong. Calling Tim, her fingers danced over the rim of her glass, nerves piling up.

"Hey, do you know where Y/N is?" she asked when he picked up, not wasting any time.

Tim frowned on the other end of the line. "I thought she would be with you?" he gave back, eyes scanning the living room.

Your things weren't there, so you must have been on your way to Lucy, right?

"Well, she isn't here, and she didn't text me." Lucy responded, causing Tim's frown to deepen. You were reliable, you wouldn't just cancel plans without telling her.

Let alone disappear.

"I haven't heard from her since this morning." Tim admitted, biting his cheek. "I mean, we had an argument, but still, she would at least text."

Lucy sighed, nodding to herself.

"I'm worried, Tim." she admitted. "If she didn't text any of us, nor show up..." She bit down on her finger, trying to get rid of the horrible thoughts swarming her mind.

Tim swallowed heavily. He already felt guilty for not checking up on you earlier, and the fact that they didn't know where you were, made it even worse.

"I'm heading to the station." he decided, getting up with the phone still pressed to his ear. Lucy nodded on the other end. "Okay, I'll meet you there."

He knew better than to argue with her. She'd do anything for the people she loved.

----

"Okay, one last chance." he whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver in disgust. His breath reeked of whiskey, his shirt of cigarettes. "I really don't want to rearrange that pretty face of yours."

You swallowed heavily but didn't budge. He wouldn't get you to let a corpse disappear.

Never.

He tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. "And here I thought we were friends." he mused, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You jerked your head away from him, glaring up at him. "We're not friends, Luis." you told him angrily. He scoffed, the back of his hand connecting with your cheek with a harsh slap.

Your head whipped to the side, skin aflame.

Tears pricked in your eyes, but your anger only intensified.

"Do you really think you're in command here?" he seethed, harshly grabbing your chin to make you look at him, fingers digging into your burning flesh. "Dont forget who you're dealing with!"

You spit in his face in response.

Another big mistake.

You really should have listened to your mother never to get involved with such people.

Mothers always were right, weren't they?

Luis face became progressively darker, turning redder. He roared, and his fist made contact with your gut, knocking the wind out of you.

So much for the gut feeling.

"Maybe I should teach you a lesson." Luis grumbled, shaking his hand. "You little slut are stepping out of line, and I really don't like that!"

You swallowed, knowing what this man was capable of doing.

Or let do.

He whistled, smirking at you. Two men entered the large room that could have worked as bouncers - ex-military if you'd had to guess.

Luis turned his attention to the men, speaking extra loud so you wouldn't miss his words.

"This little whore needs to be taught a lesson." he told them. "Or two. She's dancing out of line, and I can't have that. Vladimir-" he turned to one of them and your blood ran cold.

Russians.

"You said your wrist ached, right? Maybe a little punching will help?"

Vladimir, the bigger of the too, chuckled darkly. "When did it not?"

His knuckles cracked, and your eyes closed, silently praying Tim would find you before it was too late.

----

"I want every available cop in this station." Tim spoke as Grey entered the on call room. His brows knitted at Tim's words, clearing his throat.

"Bradford, what is going on?" he wanted to know, all eyes on them. "Y/N is missing." Tim explained, thumbs hooked into his waistband, so his fingers wouldn't fumble with everything they got hold of.

Grey's brows knitted further before he nodded. "Are you sure she's missing?" he asked. Tim nodded, eyes downcast. "Yes, sir."

Grey hummed, clearing his throat again. "Okay." he said, swallowing. "Where was she last seen?"

They started to form a plan, checking your last locations. Your phone hadn't been responsive yet, not being able to be tracked.

They were checking out possible locations on a map, as Tim's phone suddenly rang with a message, then another. He fished for his phone, hoping it was you.

His hopes were heard.

Without further checking the message, he clicked on it, mind working overtime.

Then, his blood ran cold, and everything suddenly came crashing to a halt.

The message consisted of a photo and a text.

A photo of you, battered and bruised, blood staining your body and clothes. They were torn, your head hanging low.

Under the photo, the message read: "Your officer, Y/N Y/L/N, has done a very shitty job. Only fair for her to pay the price for it."

Tim could feel all eyes on him, the room suddenly eerily silent. His fingers trembled, his whole body trembled.

He could hear Grey distantly, asking him what happened. He could feel his hand on his shoulder, turning him towards him, but everything seemed to be in a blur.

Grey's gaze fell to the phone, and his heart stopped. "Oh god." he mumbled, a lump forming in his throat.

Lucy stepped forward, heart hammering nervously in her chest. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "What happened?" she wanted to know, repeating Grey's words.

Neither of them reacted for a second, glued to the spot, eyes on the phone. Moments later, it clattered to the floor as Tim stumbled backward. Lucy took the opportunity to grab it, turning the display towards her.

She wished she hadn't.

Her breath got stuck in her throat at what she saw. She read the text a few times, mind running haywire. Her hands shook, and she had to place the phone down, or otherwise it would have fallen for a second time.

They could only hope you weren't as dead as you looked.

----

It was ugly.

First you found it strange, then funny that they were counting the amount of times they punched you.

They must have been paid for punches.

After the tenth punch, you fell silent. You had pleaded for them to stop only moments earlier, as they took turns in punching and slapping you.

Neither of them cared for your feeble attempts. It only seemed to spur them on.

Every part of your body ached by now, your numb mind telling you to be grateful that they weren't doing other things to you.

It felt like you'd been hit by a truck numerous times.

You weeped as a blow to your stomach knocked any remaining air from your lungs.

That was all you could muster now.

A small weep.

Your head felt like it was wrapped in clouds, vision blurry, and slowly fading. Your hope of getting out of this alive withering by the second.

How were they supposed to find you? How should they track you when Luis took your phone, most likely destroying it?

A punch in your face made your head spin, as everything seemed to blur together, dark spots obscuring your vision further.

And as you thought all hope was lost, you slowly sank into the comfort of unconsciousness.

----

Time seemed to tick in slow motion.

Tim couldn't keep still, he had to move, trying to match his racing heart.

The fear he felt cut deep, like a knife. It bored its way into his heart, infecting it with its poison. He had only felt such fear twice before - once when his ex-wife left him overnight, and the second time when Lucy was buried alive.

But it didn't compare to the fear he felt now. It seemed tenfold.

Grey had to calm him multiple times, or else he would have stormed out there, searching every building for you.

He would have done everything for you.

After what felt like an eternity to Tim, they were able to track the location where the photo of you was taken.

The photo that was glued to the back of his eyelids, not letting him think of anything else.

He felt guilty, an ugly feeling that crept into his very being, infiltrating all of his nerves, his bones, and very fibers.

It was the worst feeling of them all.

He blamed himself - blamed himself for accusing you of having secrets eatlier that day.

That he was right he didn't know then.

But he'd seen your change in demeanor, the way you would pull away from him.

It hurt him so much that he caused an argument.

One he was deeply regretting now.

He had to remind himself to pay attention, to wait for the signal to enter the warehouse they located you in.

How cliché.

When Grey gave the signal, Tim's heart stumbled before it doubled its speed.

Time to move.

They walked forward in formation before splitting, getting ready to bust the door open and head inside, facing whatever might lurk behind the heavy metal door.

When the door was opened, he was the first to enter the large room, eyes quickly scanning his surroundings, gun drawn, as he flinched at the sight.

Tim believed his heart had stopped.

If he hadn't been standing upright, he'd thought he'd died - even though that could have changed any second, as he stumbled towards you.

He couldn't tell if you were still breathing, your body hanging limp in the chair in the middle of the warehouse. Your face was bruised - badly, blood wherever his eyes reached.

They stung, tears threatening to push through. But he did his best to keep himself together, even though the gasp Angela let out as she saw you, didn't make it any easier for him.

Falling down on his knees in front of you, he let his gun clatter to the floor, fingers carefully brushing away the hair that was stuck to your bloody face. With trembling fingers, he tried to feel for a pulse, heart stopping when he didn't immediately find one.

He could feel the others stare at him, waiting for an answer.

"Come on!" he mumbled to himself, feeling again as goosebumps covered his skin.

There - it was weak, but it was there.

"She's alive." he managed to get out, knowing that the ambulance was already on the way. Relief flooded him, even though it was short-lived.

You seemed like you would give out any moment.

Nyla walked behind you, carefully cutting the rope that was binding you to the chair - the only thing keeping you upright, as you fell forward and into Tim's arms.

His body shook, but he did his best to suppress it.

He had to be strong for the both of you now.

He cradled you in his arms, biting his lip until it bled, all to keep the tears at bay. Praying to whatever gods may be above to let you survive this.

Losing you would have been too much. It'd have destroyed him irrevocably.

He could hear sirens, swallowing against the lump in his throat that seemed to get bigger as time slowly passed.

He could feel the stares, knew they were asking themselves what you must have done to deserve this.

Hell, he asked himself the same question.

And, most importantly, who did this to you.

Whoever it was wouldn't get far once Tim would have his hands on them.

He barely noticed when the paramedics almost had to pry you from his hands, getting you ready for transport.

He was in the back of the ambulance even before they had carried you in.

His numb fingers dug into his pockets, catching onto something. They gripped hold of it, turning the small object over in his hand, thumb brushing over the velvet.

A ring.

He had meant to give it to you, having noticed how much you had seemed to like it when you first saw it.

Now he wondered if he'd ever have the chance to give it to you.

Once you were settled, they took off, the look on Lucy's face surely going to haunt him for weeks to come.

It mirrored his own emotions perfectly.

Fear, helplessness.

Something he didn't feel often.

----

Steady, rhythmic beating was what brought you back.

An awful sound, yet it was the proof of life.

Your body felt heavy, mind dizzy. Your mouth was dry and you were sure you must have died and went straight to hell.

Blinking your eyes open, they were met by dim light, stars shining on the other side of the big window.

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness. As your eyes slowly took in your surroundings, landing on Tim whose head lay on your bed, sleeping peacefully, it all came crushing back.

Tears flooded your eyes, soon the dam breaking. They ran over your face in hot streaks, your bruised skin stinging.

Hands shaking, you brought one of it up to his head, softly brushing through his hair as a sob spilled over your lips.

What you had done was nowhere excusable. They would fire you once they knew what exactly you had done.

You were sure of it.

Tim stirred, disturbed in his sleep. His eyes blinked open, and once they fell on you, he was wide awake, sitting upright.

He scooted closer with his chair, hands gripping your own. Seeing you cry broke his heart.

"It's okay." he shooed, thumbs brushing over the back of your hands before he brought one up, carefully wiping at your tear streaked face. "It's okay, you're safe now."

Your head shook almost automatically, tears and sobs intensifying. "No." you croaked out, sight blurry, and his brows furrowed. "No, it's not okay."

Your head fell back into the cushion, biting your lip as you shook it again.

"What happened?" Tim voiced the question he'd asked himself so many times. "Who did this to you?"

At first, you didn't answer, gaze fixed on the ceiling. When he was about to ask again, your mouth slowly opened.

"I fucked up." you managed to get past your split lips. "I fucked everything up."

Tim had to swallow, doing his best to stay patient. Whatever you did must have been so bad, that it resulted in this.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath. "Luis El Ferno." you said his name, blinking rapidly to will away another wave of tears.

The name vaguely rang a bell in Tim's head. He must have been someone they arrested before.

"After we arrested him a few months back, he-" you cut yourself off, fingers cramping around his. "He started to blackmail me with photos someone took of me... naked."

Tim's heart stuttered to a painful halt, eyes widening. Every single thought in his mind came to a stop as your words slowly sank in.

Blackmailed.

Photos of you.

Naked.

He swallowed heavily, that ugly feeling of guilt intensifying.

He should have noticed.

"He wanted me to erase things from his file." you continued, ripping him from his vile thoughts. "And when he asked of me to let a corpse disappear, I said no. Big mistake."

Despite the situation, you managed a humorless, dry laugh, but Tim wasn't in the mood for laughing.

No, he was far closer to breaking something.

Or someone.

"He let his guards 'teach me a lesson', as he said it. To show everyone what a shitty job I did. And he was right."

Tim's gaze snapped back to yours, having been glued to the blanket before. The chair made a nasty sound on the linoleum as he brought it ever closer.

Now he knew what you'd been hiding the past few months.

He would have done the same.

His head shook unbeknownst to him, and he wished he could take you into his arms, hold you close to shield you from all the horror in the world.

But you could barely move, your survival a sole miracle.

He brought your hand to his lips, unable to find the words to assure you everything would be fine.

He knew it wouldn't.

"I'm so sorry." you croaked out, biting your swollen lip as more tears fell. "I know I should have told you, but I was so scared. He said he'd end me if I told someone."

Tim swallowed again, bile rising in his throat at the thought.

Oh, how badly he wanted to have a chat with this man.

Though chat might not be the right word.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Then his fingers dug into his pocket, taking out the small, velvety box.

He turned it over in his hand before slowly opening it, taking the ring out. It glittered in the dim light, reflecting it.

Your eyes widened at the sight, recognizing it. You had admired it through the jeweler's window, knowing you'd never buy it, because it was way too expensive.

Seeing it now, crushed your heart.

He bad bought it for you.

Tim wiped at his nose before he took your hand, slowly putting the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Then his fingers encircled yours, holding them tight as he swallowed.

"We'll do this together." he said, looking up at you. "Whatever might come, we'll do it together. I'll fight Grey on it if need be, but you won't leave the LAPD."

Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your sight. The love you felt for this man was indescribable. And you could only hope you hadn't lost him with what you'd done.

"I love you." he spoke, licking his lip. It tasted salty, and he noticed that a tear of his own had managed to spill. "I promise you I'll be there whenever you need me. We can do this, whatever may come. You and I."

You sobbed, overwhelmed by his words. "I love you, too." you managed to say, not sure how you deserved him. "But I don't know how we'll do that."

He bit his lip, and for the first time since you had been missing, he smiled. It was a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Let me handle that."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @dhundhchrih @augustvandyne @rookietrek @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425

[streamdotpng]

Quick sale till... march? Maybe? Who knows, i'm trying to get verified in Vgen so i'll keep the sale going until i reach that or if there's too many orders

If you'd like more examples of my works, feel free to check the tags commission work, rendered, my art or ask for more in DM’s!

You can either commission me through Vgen or here. I'd appreciate it if its through vgen so i can get verified but if you don't feel like it, shoot me a DM and we can talk there.

Now, read everything below first before commissioning me.

🗐 COMMERCIAL RIGHTS

⚲ IMPORTANT!

Upon commissioning the artist, the client automatically agrees to the terms of service provided, as it is assumed they have read them. If there are any questions or concerns, feel free to reach out through DMs or my other socials.

No additional payments are required for the following, as long as credit is given with my handle "@streamdotpng" whenever used:

✔ Icons, Banners, Thumbnails, and Posts used for streaming or other content purposes.

If the art is used for commercial purposes, with the artist’s consent, the artist will receive an agreed-upon percentage of the sales profits.

✒ GENERAL

The Artist has the right to refuse a commission if they are not comfortable or confident about the request.

The client is allowed to ask for progress updates every 2-4 days and are freely given.  If it is a rushed commission, feel free to ask for more frequent updates.

By commissioning the artist, the client acknowledges that the artist is a student and this is not the artist’s full-time job. The client should not expect the artist to treat it as such.

Communications will generally be done in Vgen Chats (Please check your emails for chat notifications). Unless you prefer to communicate in other applications, that is also allowed as long as you let me know. Scroll down to see the end of my Terms of Service for my contacts or check the links in my profile.

Under any circumstances, Clients are not permitted to use any part of the commissioned artwork for non-fungible tokens (NFTs), blockchain, cryptocurrency platforms or AI Training. Such usage is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action taken.

✎ᝰ. CAN, MIGHT & WON’T DRAW!

╰┈➤ CAN DRAW !

Fanart

Shipping [GL, BL, Straight, Yumeship]

Original Characters

PNGtuber Models (e.g Blinking, Speaking)

Character sheets

╰┈➤ MIGHT DRAW ! (We’ll need to talk more about these requests)

Anthropomorphic animals

Heavy Armor

Excessive Gore

Comics

Complicated backgrounds (e.g. Detailed interior, buildings etc)

Honestly, if it isn’t in the "Can Draw" list, let’s talk about it!

╰┈➤✖  WILL NOT DRAW !

Depiction of suicide and self harm

Depiction of any type of hateful/political art

Anything that crosses my personal boundaries 

⏱ TIMELINE & WORK PROCESS

Work completion will take at least 1-2 weeks minimum, depending on the amount of commissions worked on. 

My work process simplified: Draft and Line Art ➤ Colouring ➤ Final Touches.

My work process expanded on: Draft ➤ Line Art ➤ Flat Colours ➤ Shading ➤ Final Work.

After completing each stage, I will contact you for either payment or revisions and thoughts. 

$ PRICING & PAYMENT

Prices vary depending on the commission. I’m flexible, but here are some base prices:

$5-10 USD depending on the background

$10-15 USD per person added

Note: There can be additional charges due to PayPal fees.

Half the payment is expected to be paid upfront Post-Draft or Post-Line Art. The rest of the payment will be paid fully after the Flat Colours are seen and approved. If payment hasn't been received, the Artist will not continue until then.

The option to fully pay upfront is allowed but must be talked about before sending over the money.

No refunds are allowed after the draft has been sent.

You can pay through PAYPAL, KOFI or VGEN

↺ REVISION POLICIES

Once the coloring stage begins, the only major revisions permitted are details that the artist may have missed and was specified by the client while the commission was still in the sketching/lineart stage (e.g. a missing tattoo that’s essential to the character’s design).

If the client is unsatisfied with the commission Post-Line Art, the artist is willing to discuss and make minor edits as stated prior (e.g. adjusting colors). However, the artist will not redraw the piece and expects full payment, as the client should have specified in the sketch stage the changes they wanted to be made.

The client may not hire another artist to adjust the image without the artist’s consent.

The artist is willing to edit the image post commission for the commissioner, but may charge a small fee depending on what is being asked of them

🛈 RUSHED COMMISSIONS

Rush Fees apply. Contact me first to discuss how much you’re willing to pay for the rush fee.

The fastest turnaround time is 1-2 days (maximum 4 days) with the same quality as my usual work.

For short deadlines, you must be responsive when it comes to communication. It'd save us both the headache and worry.

▸ DISCLAIMER!

Breaking or disrespecting the rules of the Terms of Service will lead to a permanent ban and you will be blacklisted. It means, users who break the Terms of Service will lose the rights to commission me.

However, I may allow second chances. Blacklisted users can contact me with proof of improved behavior to request removal.

---

…and that’s about it? Just don’t expect me to be obligated to draw something and we’ll figure something out. Not to mention that depending on how much commissions i’m getting and how busy i am, the art will take atleast a few days to a week!

If you got references, provide them! It’ll help alot. You can also ask for progress updates, just don’t mind me accidentally not seeing the message bc this is tumblr and I don’t get notifs for some reason.

That’s about it, thanks for seeing this yall. Again, If you want to see more examples, simply look at my art tags in my account or send a DM and i'll send some over there.

[syneilesis]

[fic] Impact Factor

Impact Factor

Love and Deepspace | Zayne (Li Shen) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 4k words | ao3 link

god, i'm so lovesick. what have you done to me? You tell Zayne that you're co-authoring a research paper. He finds himself wanting and waiting to read it.

A/N: For @seraphiism 's 2024 writing event. I chose Lovesick by Laufey. I know. Zayne? Lovesick? Lmao I don't know if I pulled it off, but I have to write for Zayne at least once.

I gave this fic a single, cursory proofread. Any mistake is still my fault. Divider by @/saradika

“By the way, a professor of mine in college reached out to me last week and asked me if I was interested in co-authoring an article with her on the phenomenology of vocation of the people working in Hunters Association.”

The clacking of the keyboard is crisp and loud in the silverlined office, accompanied by the low hum of the airconditioner. Zayne's attention remains on the computer, updating your status condition. He makes a brief noise to indicate that he's listening, and when he takes his gaze away from the desktop he finds you watching him with a faint grin on your face.

“Do you want me to guess your reply?”

That faint grin grows wide and whole.

“What do you think?”

Zayne leans back and rolls his chair a little farther, reaching out to turn on the printer. The machine whirls to life, chatters.

“You accepted the offer, of course.” He returns to his laptop and clicks on the print icon. “You don't have the heart to refuse your professor.”

“Dr. Zayne, you know me so well.”

Something in the way you said it compels him to turn to you again. Your expression hasn't changed, but the fall of your hair frames your slightly narrowed eyes that sparkle under the bright fluorescent light, like rare midday stars. It staggers the beats of Zayne's heart for two seconds, seizes his throat, and in that sliver of a moment Zayne forgets to breathe.

“Maybe it's because you're transparent,” he says, after retrieving the prescription from the printer. He hands you the paper, and surprise stretches your features. He clarifies: “Supplements. Undoubtedly you will need it when you begin your research.”

“Nothing less from my doctor.” My. The word is malleable around your mouth. And then: “I'm transparent? Is that a bad thing?”

“It's not a flaw.” He signs the healthcare forms you passed onto him. “But neither is it a virtue.”

“Hmm. Then, I guess I'll watch myself.”

His head jerks at your response, and Zayne has something to say to that—something like your not needing to be conscious of how open you are—but then your watch beeps and you apologize for the sudden departure.

Alone in his office, Zayne sinks into his chair and closes his eyes.

▼

That exchange, brief yet odd, lingers in Zayne's mind, like a stone at the base of his brain, next to the stem and cerebellum. He can feel its weight, its matter, solid and bothersome that at one point Greyson stops and asks him, “Are you okay, Dr. Zayne? You seem to be distracted today.”

A flash of memory; the word transparent, your answer. Were it not for the emergency mission, he would have hastened to add that transparency is closely associated with sincerity—and that is a virtue. He imagines a version of you as secretive as a glacier, as closed-off as a fortress, and the dissonance it invites rings discordant in the history between you—you who have always reached out to him first.

His hands itch for the phone that's secluded in one of his drawers, away from distraction, from memory. Zayne is, after all, duty first, the rest a distant second.

“It's nothing,” he tells Greyson. “I'm fine.”

“Maybe it's time for a vacation? You've been busy—busier than usual—lately.”

“I'll take a vacation at the end of the year. Right now, you're needed in the meeting room for a briefing.”

When Greyson clears the area, Zayne turns and sees Yvonne near the entrance of the lobby, studying him, her face arranged in a way that invites him to defend himself for some reason. But he resists the irrational urge.

He meets her scrutiny with a long and stoic gaze, and she shakes her head, wordless, then continues on with her work.

Left in the hallway, Zayne sighs and goes back to his office.

▼

“Dr. Zayne!”

Shapes of different colors coalesce into your reflection on the glass that displays the myriad cakes Zayne's been deliberating upon for the last fifteen minutes. The figure looms larger and larger, until it sidles up next to him and he straightens up, turning to his side.

“What a coincidence,” you continue with a glancing smile, hand on your chin as you survey the available pastries for purchase. “Are you buying desserts too?”

Earlier, Akso Hospital had a rare moment of slowness that allowed its personnel to indulge in a breather, which afforded Zayne to clock out on time. As a treat—and he will never admit this to anyone—he's stopped by the bakeshop on the way home, and to his surprise, here you are as well.

To your question he can only give a noncommittal sound; then to the cashier he points at the sea salt caramel vanilla slice that he's wanted to try for a while now. Both you and the cashier let out an intrigued Oh! before the purchase is processed at the register.

“Sea salt caramel vanilla,” you say with an evaluatory seriousness, “good choice.”

Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose.

“By the way, I've started on the research project. Been doing some preliminary reading since I don't want to disappoint my former professor. So far I'm doing well—the supplements are a great help!”

The supplements. He had an inkling that, as you are wont to do with every mission, you were rushing into this project with all your mind and body, tunnel-visioned, only the end goal visible in your sights. This unfortunately excludes concerns regarding your health, and Zayne is correct: all nighters and skipped meals, both of which erode the state of a person's health. When you are focused on something, that something takes the highest priority, and he can't always be with you all the time to remind you to take a break, or eat healthy food, or drink water. Which is why: supplements. They're not preventative, but at least they mitigate.

And it seems you're telling the truth: no tightness in your eyes and tautness in the shape of your mouth. In this case—in the case of your aspiration to conceal—you have not changed—or at least attempted to hold yourself back. Something in his chest loosens, smooths the tenseness out of his muscles that Zayne hasn't realized is there.

This is something to ponder, but not at the moment.

“I don't have to remind you that supplements are not substitutes for healthy food and proper sleep, do I?”

“Of course not! Even I know that.” But then your expression turns sheepish. “In practice, that's a little ...”

Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose again.

“But don't worry too much about me, Dr. Zayne! I'm taking care of myself just fine!”

“That doesn't instill much confidence.”

“How about this, then?” And you face him fully, a ready smile brimming with its own confidence and assurance, as radiant as an aurora. “If something happens, you will be the first person I'll turn to.”

At that Zayne pauses. The easy trust you bring between the both of you warms his neck, the back of it, climbing up, up, up to the tips of his ears and to his cheeks. He moves on to the cashier, his back on you.

“Try not to let that 'something' happen, but I know you're too stubborn to listen.”

A chuckle, and then: “I can't make any promises, but I'll try.”

This time, Zayne turns back.

“'Try' implies effort, so I am expecting effort.”

You snap a salute, grinning. “Got it, Doc!”

▼

The day after that, Zayne begins to read up on the subject of phenomenology.

▼

It won't be a couple of weeks until Zayne sees you again—but this time it's under the harsh hospital lights and the din of frantic footsteps and rolling wheels, the mixed scents of blood and antiseptic stinging his nose. A Wanderer surge disrupted the southern part of Linkon, and of the hunters dispatched you had been one of them.

Zayne glides around the moving bodies, steps never faltering until he finds you tucked in a corner, cradling your broken arm.

When his shadow falls upon your involuted frame, you lift your head and a rueful grin greets him. Your glass-sheen gaze doesn't escape his scrutiny.

He's wearing his white coat, and both of his hands retreat into its pockets, where he closes them into tight fists. If Zayne tilts his head a little more to the right, he can see a lengthy gash that lines along your temple and into your scalp, covered by your blood-crusted hair. He is painfully aware that this is part and parcel of your profession, the risk that endangers a hunter during a mission. A part of him is thankful that today it is only a broken arm and a couple of wounds. It could have been much worse, and Zayne refuses to imagine a scenario where you come into the hospital drained of vitality. A frustrated sigh threatens to spill out of him, but he endures, and just pointedly shoots you a disappointed look.

“So this is all the effort that you mentioned just amounted to.”

“To be fair I was doing well for a couple of hours until I had to rescue a civilian trapped in a damaged building.”

“That is commendable.” And he means it. But—“Follow that nurse with the brown clipboard. He's in charge of injuries like yours. Can you walk that far?”

Your uninjured hand braces against the wall and you pull yourself up, the motion not quite fluid but not a slow stagger either. Zayne would have assisted you, but it seems that you can do it on your own.

“It's my arm that's broken, not my legs.” A wincing smile, and you start to make your way forward. “I know that you have to take care of other people, Dr. Zayne, but thanks for checking up on me.”

Behind him, a nurse calls his name, a signal to go back to his work. There are other patients who need his attention more than you do, and overall you seem fine, still put together. A broken arm can heal over time, given proper medical care. And Zayne knows, intimately, that Akso does not lack for anything.

Still. It's not entirely on purpose, but Zayne calls your name.

“I—” he begins, as you slow down to wait for whatever he's going to say. His throat struggles, constricting and opening in subconscious reflex. “I'd still rather not worry about you like this.”

In and around the space between you and him, the hospital remains astir—shadows and silhouettes slipping in and out of Zayne's sight—until they give way to the blossoming smile on your face, eclipsing everything from the back to the fore, a pinpoint mark on the map.

Later, even as he tends to his patients, your smile persists in Zayne's mind, an afterimage that refuses to disappear behind his eyelids.

▼

Exactly one week after that incident, Zayne receives a bouquet of jasmines and a box of banana bread. Attached to it is a pristine white card with a line written: Don't forget to take care of yourself too!

The card stays in his breast pocket well beyond his working hours, right next to his beating heart.

▼

Days pass, weeks, months, and Zayne finds himself browsing through phenomenology journals during his break in the hopes of seeing your name in one of them. He knows that you'll tell him once it's published, but there's a part of him that clamors for the first touch of knowledge, the letters that make up your name woven in the glowing screen of his tablet.

At the same time, Greyson and Yvonne have bitten into their suspicions—whatever they are, Zayne refuses to ask—and swallowed the succulence as if it's a juicy truth. Often he sees Greyson glancing at him with a shadow of a smile, a quick sleight of hand that when Zayne fully faces him his expression is already ironed out and professional. Yvonne is no better: all glimmering eyes and knowing grins and incessant questions about his mood. Once, he asked the reason for the barrage of questions and Yvonne ignored the frost in his voice and tittered, telling him that sometimes in life, they have to combat the monotony with exciting things.

It worries him somewhat that you and Yvonne and even Greyson have been getting along quite well for a time now.

But your name still doesn't appear, and it doesn't seem to be appearing in the foreseeable future. Still Zayne searches, his fingers already making a habit of typing your name in the bar, his heart beating for a yes.

▼

At some point, he's asked about your progress.

“It's been going well,” you answer. “Professor made some comments about the part in my results and discussion, so I'm going to revise that. I think we can submit it by next month if we maintain the pace.”

After a thoughtful pause, you rest your arms on his desk, cushion your chin on them, and angle him a sly look.

“Are you offering to proofread my work, Dr. Zayne?”

“I may need a box of red pens for that.”

That jolts a laugh out of you, and you recover by sending a mock pout his way.

“I’ll have you know that I was a diligent writer in college! I won in essay writing competitions!”

“Is that so? Then I suppose your first foray in academic publishing will be a successful ‘accepted with minor revisions’ reply from the editor.”

“Of course! Oh, fine, fine. I won’t ask you to proofread the manuscript. You can just wait until it’s published.”

A small, genuine smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

▼

Eventually, he receives a text that says, We finally submitted the article! Now we just have to wait 🫣

He excuses himself from a cluster of medical professionals talking about the latest breakthroughs in oncology and parks himself beside the long table of drinks. He texts back: Watch out for Reviewer #2. They’re always the culprit.

It takes a full ten minutes before you reply, and during that period of anticipation four individuals have come up to him and attempted to pull him into a conversation about his accomplishments and recent research—one even braving to entice him into applying to another hospital.

Zayne shakes them off as politely as he can (and to that one poacher he gives a cold and resolute no). When his phone beeps, he turns away and redirects his undivided attention to the screen. All your latest message contains is a single salute emoji and the single-word sentence Gotcha! A laugh startles out of him, which Yvonne—having developed an eagle eye for Zayne in the recent weeks—notices and she scurries over to Greyson, bowing their heads in hushed whispers, glancing at him every now and then.

He's realized what they'd been talking about whenever he's in their vicinity, and he's tempted to refute their assumptions and retaliate accordingly. But the stone-weight in his mind had transformed into a persistent itch that does not choose when it strikes. In most cases it's merely annoying, but on rare occasions it is, frankly, merciless. A good-night text echoes in his dreams, and Zayne wakes with a thick sweetness coating the inside of his mouth. A fleeting touch from your worried hand burns the skin of his arm, the heat seeping into the layers until it reaches the subcutaneous tissue, where it spreads all over his body through the veins. He has to evade your glare to hide the ruddiness of his cheeks. Capitulation is the only option he had to choose in the end, and the idea of surrendering to this melts away the reflexive inquiry of when and how and why—a trait he had to hone as a doctor and a researcher.

What else is left when all the signs are pointing to this one immutable conclusion? 

▼

On the day and hour your article is published Zayne is in the middle of a delicate surgery that takes him five hours and two hysterical family members of the patient—even with Evol involved. He emerges from the operating room with good news and exhausted-yet-relieved colleagues, Greyson's smile emerging from the doors the first indicator of a successful operation.

The patient's mother clings to him in tearful gratitude.

He orients the family on the next steps, and as he signs the healthcare forms he discovers a new slice of wound on the back of his hand, thin but lengthy. He has long since accepted that his hands, his arms, will forever be spattered with scars, and if that's the price he has to pay for saving lives, then it's of no consequence to him.

(Once, he had caught your gaze glued to his hands, so he snapped his fingers, startling you into looking at his face.

“What was that for?” you demanded.

“You're not paying attention.”

“I was just—” you bit your lip, torn. A pause, then: “Did they hurt—each one of them?”

He glanced down and studied each scar. Too many, you'd probably think. But not once had they bothered him.

“I never even noticed them in the first place, so no.”

“Okay.” Your eyes were crystal glass and the deep breath you took was stuttering in all its inelegance. “Okay.”)

A sliver of a break provides him the opportunity to sink into reprieve, and his hand gropes for his phone on the desk, peeking out under a sheaf of documents that he has to fill out later.

A cursory look at the screen, and then Zayne is leaping for the computer.

The research article you and your professor had written is kept behind a paywall. Zayne spares a moment to shut his eyes in irritation. He's fortunate that his university library account is still active, so he utilizes that privilege to gain access to the article’s full version, made available by the university’s database.

When the file loads, he syncs it to his tablet, after which he leans back on the chair and settles to read. He can locate which parts you had a hand in writing, and the parts where your style comes out. It isn't his field, but he has read enough to venture that the insights of this paper are valuable. Unwittingly, a proud smile surfaces on his lips.

At the end of the article, in the acknowledgment section, something is curiously written:

The co-author is grateful for the moral and medical support of Akso Hospital's Dr. Zayne. Dr. Zayne, would you like to have dinner with me? As a date. Yes, I'm asking you out.

Zayne’s mind blanks out and the itch returns, scrabbling at the walls of his skull, loud and frenetic and overwhelming all his senses. His entire body warms and the sensation of crawling needles prickle at his skin. Everything is white noise; his heart threatens to jump out of his ribcage. He gets the ridiculous thought that he can't perform a surgery on himself.

The next thing he knows, he's driving his car at the same time dialing your number. The car speakers amplify the ringing tone once his phone is attached to the dashboard. Both his hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

When the call connects, he opens with “What would you do if I hadn't read your article?”

He can practically hear the smile in your voice; it resounds around the car interior. “That's not an option, Dr. Zayne. You would have definitely read the article.”

Laughter bubbles up inside him; he tamps it down. “Confident now, are we?”

“Of course!” A pause; a shuffle of feet. You must be heading to another room. “I hear car engine, where are you now?”

“On the way to your apartment.”

“Wait, don't—go to this restaurant instead. I'll text you the address. I have it all reserved and ready.”

He blinks once, twice, surprise slackening the muscles on his face. “... You haven't even heard my answer yet.”

“You can tell me at the restaurant. And then we'll celebrate with excellent food, excellent wine, and scrumptious desserts.”

“You sound so certain about receiving a positive response.”

“I'm optimistic that way, Dr. Zayne. I'm heading out now—I'll see you in a bit!”

You hang up, and the speakers beep into silence. Two seconds later Zayne presses the hazard switch. The car slows down and then comes to a halt on the side of the road. Other vehicles zoom past him. Without the need to drive, Zayne can finally give in to the urge to exhale aloud and let out a brief yet astounded laugh, forehead pressing against the leather smoothness of the steering wheel.

You've always been transparent. But Zayne has made the crucial mistake of neglecting the fact that you are also clever. If this were a competition, you've already won.

▼

You're already at the restaurant when he arrives, sat on the corner facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, the shifting lights outside dancing over your serene profile. Your elbows rest on the table, where everything is already set up except the food. A vase of red roses at the center completes the picturesque scene.

You lift your head and welcome him with a triumphant grin once he's a few steps away. And when he settles on the chair opposite you, you lean forward and stare at him expectantly.

“You could have asked like a normal person,” Zayne begins.

“I could have,” you agree, nodding, “but I like it this way. I like to get closer to you through the things you do.”

Another moment of Zayne getting caught off-center: the warmth flushing outward from the core of his body like vibrant ink on clean, clear water. He has to lower his gaze from the sheer brilliance of your certainty, the way your patience and care have allowed this moment between the two of you, something that he has never imagined culminating like this: two people sitting opposite each other, in this softly lit restaurant while the world bursts into festive lights outside it. The tender way your hand moves across the table, stopping right before the flower vase, as if affording him the liberty to arrive at a decision Zayne has already made, many, many months (years) ago, just buried under the strata of responsibilities, boundaries, and improbabilities.

Never the when, never the how, never the why. It is, only, sublimely, this.

Zayne sighs with a rueful shake of his head. “It's not yet too late—maybe I should answer by publishing my own research article.” But the hand meeting yours belies his words.

Your smile: pleased, pleasure, like the sun emerging from the winter sky.

He's too occupied with the touch of your hand and the radiance of your expression that Zayne misses the throwaway comment that tumbles past his lips:

“If we're talking about getting closer through doing the things the other does, then I suppose I should propose to you when we're in the middle of a Wanderer invasion.”

And then he realizes what he just said.

Zayne whips his head up, heart in throat, and scrambles for an excuse. “What I meant was—”

“Getting ahead of ourselves now, are we?” Your face is pure indulgence, pure bliss. Your hand squeezes his, not letting go. “Don't worry, Dr. Zayne; I'm looking forward to it.”

And that lustrous smile, sustained. Zayne relaxes and you release him to clap your hands together, delighted.

“Now then! Shall we have our dinner?”

▼

(You have, indeed, delivered in all aspects: excellent food, excellent wine, and scrumptious desserts.)