#and then it is act 3 and it has been 3 years
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kxsagi · 2 days ago
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hey! can I request platonic bllk character x reader (any character/s you think works for this) who sees them as an older brother figure?
reader used to be close to her actual older bro, but their relationship has been quite cold & hostile for the past few years.
I kinda need this because I just met my brother yesterday after almost a year, & we already got into a fight 😭, I had to walk out of the house for it to end. he threw an open box cutter at me, idk whether it was intentional or not tho.
“𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞”
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a/n: i’m sorry, he threw WHAT at you??? nah he’s going into the basement 
i'm so sorry to hear that your relationship with your brother is like that, but you deserve people in your life who reciprocate your love and good energy. even if they're family or blood-related, don't be afraid to cut them off if you feel it's necessary for you and your mental health <3
ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, mikage reo, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, ness alexis
isagi yoichi
isagi becomes your “big bro” purely by accident. it starts with him walking you home after practice because it’s dark and “you shouldn’t be walking alone.” then he starts nagging you about hydration and warming up properly. 
you don’t tell him about your brother at first, but he picks up on how your voice goes tight whenever family’s brought up. one day, he hears you on the phone with your brother. short. curt. cold. and when you hang up, you look like you’ve aged ten years. 
“i’m not trying to pry,” he says, “but if you ever need someone to talk to or yell at or play mario kart with, i got you.” 
cue late night gaming sessions with convenience store snacks. he’s bad at comforting with words, but he’ll let you win rounds and then act shocked like “damn. how are you so cracked?” just to make you laugh. 
he never pushes. just shows up consistently. like a real older brother should’ve. 
itoshi rin
you? voluntarily clinging to rin of all people? it shocks him, too. 
but there's something steady about him. quiet, mature, not overbearing. you start trailing after him like a lost duckling. at first, he acts annoyed. but then one day someone bumps into you too hard in the hallway, and he straight up glares like he's about to throw hands. 
“you good?” he mutters, almost gruffly. 
you nod. and for the first time in years, you feel… protected. 
he never asks about your family, but when you call him “nii-san” as a joke, he doesn’t correct you. doesn’t say a word. but his ears go a little red. 
will silently share his umbrella with you when it rains. won’t say, “i care about you,” but if you’re missing for longer than ten minutes, he’s already searching. 
mikage reo
reo figures it out pretty quick. you flinch whenever he mentions siblings, and you change the topic fast. 
“you know,” he says one day while handing you a matcha latte, “i always wanted a little sister. someone to spoil.” 
and boy, does he mean it. he’s the “bought you this top because it looked cute and reminded me of you” kind of brother figure. wants to take you shopping. lets you sit on the counter while he cooks and talks your ear off. 
he’s also lowkey protective in a petty rich boy way. sees you texting someone and goes “who’s that? do i need to hire a personal investigator?” 
when you finally break down and talk about your real brother, reo listens. doesn’t interrupt. doesn’t tell you to forgive or forget. just goes, “he messed up. but you deserve people who don’t.” 
and then forces you to binge rom-coms and do face masks. 
bachira meguru
bachira’s warmth is something you didn't know you missed. he grabs your wrist and pulls you into situations like you're just meant to be there. 
he starts calling you “imouto-chan” (little sister) before you even tell him about your real brother. “it suits you,” he beams. 
he notices you get a bit quiet when people talk about siblings, though. one day, while you're doodling, he casually asks, “did you and your big bro used to draw together?” 
you nod. then go silent. he doesn’t push. instead, he starts handing you little paper cranes or doodles every day. “made this for you!” 
he gives the kind of love that asks for nothing back. and for someone who's been treated like an afterthought, that means everything. 
also, he’ll 100% bite anyone who makes you cry. just say the word. 
karasu tabito
at first, you thought karasu was just some cocky older guy who’d tease you endlessly, but you soon realize that behind the sarcasm is someone scarily perceptive. 
he notices you never bring up your brother, even though you talk about childhood memories a lot. 
“damn,” he says one day while tossing you a drink, “you got some repressed sibling drama, huh?” you blink. “how’d you–” “you do that thing. y’know, where you get all smiley talking about the past and then your face drops like someone punched you in the gut.” 
he says it so casually, but then follows up with a quiet, “if you ever want to talk about it, i can shut up and listen. i’m not just a pretty face, you know.” 
teasing older brother energy to the max. sends you cursed memes at 1 AM. calls you “kid” and “shrimp.” but if anyone else talks down to you? he goes full attack dog mode. 
“only i get to annoy her. get in line.” 
itoshi sae
you’d never guess sae would take on the big brother role. he doesn’t even seem to like people. 
but there’s something in the way he keeps showing up for you. like when he drives you home after you missed the last train. or when he slips you his jacket without a word. 
he never asks about your family, but he sees the way your eyes darken around the subject. and maybe, just maybe, he gets it. 
“you don’t owe anyone your love just because they’re family,” he says one night, voice low. it hits you like a slap. 
and it means more coming from him. someone who walked away from his own brother once. someone who understands estrangement not as a failure, but as survival. 
he’s not expressive, but he shows up. every time. and when he sees your hands shake during that one phone call with your brother, he quietly takes your phone and hangs up. 
“don’t let people who hurt you talk like they still have a right to.” 
from then on, he checks in more. sends dry texts like “did you eat.” or “bring a jacket. it’s cold.” 
the warmth is quiet, but it’s real. like a big brother who doesn't need to say “i care” for you to know it. 
shidou ryusei
the last person you expected to have older brother energy… and yet here we are. 
it starts with him teasing you for being a “baby” anytime you trip or yawn. “damn, do you need a stroller too?” 
but the moment someone talks down to you or you get upset? shidou’s feral. straight up throws his arm around your shoulder like “you got beef with my lil sis? 'cause i got time.” 
he pretends to be the worst role model ever – egging you on to do dumb stuff like throw grapes at people from the balcony – but will stop you from actually doing it at the last second. 
one time, you tell him you don’t really talk to your real brother anymore. he goes quiet for once. then shrugs. 
“his loss. you’re the only brat i’d tolerate yelling at me for finishing their fries.” 
shidou’s brand of care is chaotic protection. he’ll make you laugh until you cry, then beat up your sadness like it owes him money. 
nagi seishiro
nagi becomes your older brother figure completely by accident. it starts when you fall asleep on the couch next to him during a team meeting and he just… lets you. 
after that, it’s like you’re his little nap buddy. he starts dragging you into his lazy rituals. gaming, ramen, watching dumb videos on his phone while lying on the floor like sea creatures. 
you vent to him once about how you and your brother used to do that too, but now he barely speaks to you. nagi just stares at you for a second and goes, “that sucks.” 
then, a beat later, “guess you can do it with me instead.” 
from then on, if you’re ever feeling down, he’ll appear with a controller and snacks and go, “c’mon. let’s not think.” 
he’s the chill older brother who doesn’t ask many questions, but always gives you the space to just exist. and that’s sometimes even more comforting than words. 
kaiser michael
you are his self-proclaimed “baby gremlin,” and no, you don’t get a say in the nickname. 
at first, you thought he was too arrogant and loud to ever take anyone seriously. he also really struggled with his relationships due to past traumas. but when he noticed you spacing out during dinner, picking at your food, he actually... toned it down? 
“yo. what’s going on in that sad little head of yours?” 
when you finally mention your older brother and how cold things have gotten, he pauses mid-chew and just says, “older brothers suck. upgrade to a kaiser michael. zero emotional baggage, full sass package.” 
you roll your eyes, but the next day he shows up with a designer dress in your size like, “you didn’t ask for this, but i’m your brother now. suffer.” 
he overcompensates with sarcasm and expensive gifts. but underneath all that bravado is someone who genuinely wants to protect you from every ounce of rejection you’ve been through. 
“he may be blood, but i choose you. and i don’t choose easy, y'know?” 
ness alexis
ness is the kind of brother figure who is soft, thoughtful, and weirdly good at remembering little things. 
he sees you getting quiet one day after practice when someone talks about their sibling and casually offers you his water bottle. 
“you okay?” 
when you confess that your brother and you used to be close but now barely speak, ness goes: “so that’s why you give me those ‘i wish i could punch feelings’ eyes when people talk about family.” 
after that, he just kind of adopts you. he braids your hair during team travel, shares his spotify playlist with you (“sad girl certified”), and gives you the emotional validation you didn’t know you needed. 
if someone makes you cry, he’s the kind to drag kaiser with him like, “come on, we’re going to war.” 
he’ll randomly text you affirmations like “you deserve love, a full fridge, and someone who answers your texts within three minutes.” 
his protective older brother energy is underrated, but it runs deep. he won’t let you feel abandoned again, not on his watch. 
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
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etherepaar · 15 hours ago
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Consciousness is the only reality.
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Let that sink in.
Not your circumstances.
Not what people say.
Only your consciousness is real.
If you understand this truly understand this you’ll stop asking “how do I get it?” and start realizing “I already have it. I am it.”
Let’s break this down:
✧ What is consciousness?
Consciousness is your awareness. Your I AM. The core of who you are before you attach any identity to yourself. Before “I am broke,” “I am beautiful,” “I am unloved,” or “I am powerful,” there is just:
I AM.
It’s not poetic. It’s literal. You are pure awareness. And whatever you place after “I am” becomes your reality.
The inner knowing becomes law. The outer world has no choice but to follow the inner command.
✧ You are not trying to create, you’re selecting.
There are infinite versions of you. You, rich. You, healthy. You, adored. You, successful. You, glowing. You, with your SP. You, living the dream.
You don’t “get there” by force. You don’t have to earn it or chase it or wait for signs.
You get there by conscious alignment you shift your awareness to the version of you who already has it.
Not hoping. Not wishing. Not checking the 3D.
You become aware of it. You assume it. It's done
✧ Consciousness manifests. Always.
Every single thing in your life right now is a reflection of a state you once occupied. Even if it was unconscious.
This is not to blame yourself. This is to empower you.
If you created this reality with unconscious assumptions… imagine what happens when you consciously choose your assumptions.
“I am chosen.”
“I am loved.”
“Everything is working in my favor.”
Say it. Persist in it.
The 3D is a mirror. It’s showing you what you were aware of before.
Your job isn’t to manipulate the 3D.
Your job is to maintain the assumption.
✧ Choose your state, and live from it.
Every moment, you are in a state. A state of lack or a state of fulfillment. A state of love or a state of fear. You shift states all day long mostly unconsciously.
But the moment you decide, “I am now the version of me who has it all,” and you persist in that state, everything else begins to align.
Live from it. Think from it. Speak from it.
Not “I hope I get it.”
But “I already have it. It’s mine. I am it.”
✧ You are not separate from your desires.
This is where most people get tripped up. They see their desire as over there, and themselves as here. But that’s not how consciousness works. There is no separation.
If you can imagine it, you can have it. You already have it in consciousness. And what you have in consciousness, the 3D must reflect.
So when you imagine having your dream life you’re not making it up. You’re accessing a real dimension that already exists.
You’re not a beggar in this game. You are the source.
✧ Final truth? You’re not here to “get” things. You’re here to remember who you are.
You are not a small, limited human waiting for life to favor you. You are life. You are God. You are the operant power.
Nothing is outside of you.
Not your SP.
Not your money.
Not your health.
Not your dream house.
Not your dream life.
It’s all within your awareness.
And the moment you accept it as yours and persist in that knowing it has no choice but to show up.
Because…
> Consciousness is the only reality. And you are that consciousness.
Start acting like it.
Start remembering it.
Start choosing from it.
You don’t need to wait anymore.
It’s already yours.
I know it’s been a while since i posted, school started and senior year is already keeping me busy arghhh😭 but i promise i’ll be posting more soon <3 thank you for sticking around mwah.
- etherepaar
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prettydaisygirl · 2 days ago
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okaaaay since now I’m obsessed with your dark!james, could u pls write one shot abt how he tries to baby trap reader? lol, maybe he has been feeling her a little bit distant, maybe she discovered something that she shouldn’t have known (nothing too serious, not one of the craziest or most extreme things james has ever done for her but something that made her feel uncomfortable idk), like they’re still together as a couple but he knooooows something is wrong, and he even has like a mental debate bc he wanted to do everything in the right order, meet her, date her, live with her, marry her and then have a family but now it seems that they only solution is to baby trap her.
nonnie i have been thinking about this request ever since you sent it. It's so funny because I was going to have him mention baby trapping her in the last one and I was like oof idk if people would think that's too far. But omgggggg thank you for requesting so I could write this!!! Hope this is what you were looking for, enjoy <3
dark!James Potter x fem!reader who gets baby-trapped ✿ 1.3k words
cw: fem!reader who can get pregnant, ummmm James is really fucked in this one, baby-trapping, manipulation/controlling behavior, James hides reader's birth control, James is a professional athlete
james potter masterlist
°˖✧✿✧˖°
The realization creeps into James’ veins like poison, slow, all-consuming, and deadly. You’re pulling away. 
It started at Remus’ birthday party, when Sirius had to get drunk and open his mouth like he always does.
“Yeah, our Prongsie is so obsessed with you.” He’d slurred and stumbled his way into you, laughing, “Ever since he saw you in the background of that picture. The one at the Banquet a few years ago!” He’d shown you the post. It was from three years ago.
Your face had stilled, smile faltering just for a second before you slipped back into the bright, happy one everyone is used to. James saw, though. He sees everything about you, every little detail.
The problem is that James hadn’t told you about that. He’s told you about the first time he saw you and fell in love, about how you were lingering by the buffet table waiting eagerly to help someone, and he took the opportunity. That was a year and a half ago. 
He’d hoped that you would forget what Sirius had mentioned, but it seems to linger. It festers deep, like a wound, slowly worsening until one day he realizes you’re pulling away from his touches and watching him like you can see the dark parts deep inside him he’s worked his entire life to keep hidden away. You’re pulling away, out of his web of control, and James is nothing if he isn’t in control.
So, he broods. He thinks and wonders and plans, brain wracking for a solution. One that keeps you close, keeps you his, even when things get rocky. 
It comes to him on a Saturday morning. He’s up before the sun, preparing for his morning weight training session, when he catches sight of your pill case. It’s on the counter, sitting next to his bottle of vitamins. He stares at it for a long time, long enough that he’s sure he’ll get to the gym late, and he slides it into his gym bag, buried underneath towels, socks, and various braces. 
It takes three days for you to notice, four for you to tell him. The first day, and the second, you don’t think about it. It’s the weekend, the two of you spending your time wrapped up together in bed, and it slips your mind. Monday, you spend hours in the kitchen, tearing it apart, checking every drawer, every cabinet, but it’s nowhere. You wrack your brain, trying to remember the last time you took it. It’s a part of your routine, but the days all blur together so you can’t remember. You worry yourself sick trying to find it.
On day four you tell James. 
He comes home from practice, sweaty with muscles trembling from overuse, and notices your strange behavior almost immediately. You look guilty, eyes avoiding his and your face downturned. He acts casual, lets you come to him. You slide into his lap after dinner, tucking yourself under his chin. He holds you close, like he always does, like you might slip away if he doesn’t.
“James…” Your voice comes in a soft whisper, anxiety evident in the tremble you have in your tone. He tugs you closer, a hand sprawling on your back. 
“‘s wrong, baby?” He asks as he presses a kiss to your temple, his free hand running through your hair. 
“I…” Your face pinches together, eyes looking down at your lap. You play with your fingers to try and disguise the shaking. “I haven’t been taking my birth control.”
James knows this, of course, but he also knows how to play his part. His mouth parts, his brows furrow, and you start to ramble excuses before he can even ask you any further questions.
“I didn’t mean to stop it! I wouldn’t do that to you, I just- it’s not on the counter where I left it, so I didn’t remember, and I’ve looked everywhere for it but I can’t remember the last time I took it, so-”
“Baby, calm down…” James’ hands move to cup your face, a look of reassurance and gentleness reflected in his eyes. You’ve played right into his hand. “It’s okay, yeah? We’ll look for it, and if we can’t find it, we’ll make a doctor’s appointment to get more, okay?”
“Okay…” You say, looking down. You tug at your fingers, biting your lip. “I don’t… Want you to think that I did it on purpose. Like- like I’m trying to trap you or something…”
James smiles at you, finding the idea of you doing something like that ridiculous. How ironic. 
“I know, love,” He pulls you close and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth this time. “You wouldn’t do that. You don’t have a malicious bone in your body, do you?”
“I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.” You whisper, tone quivering like you’re hanging on by a thread.
“I know,” He says again, and he presses another kiss to your cheek. He does know, he knows even more than you do.
“What if I’m already pregnant?” You ask quietly, voice low like you’re worried you’ve disappointed him, failed the both of you.
“Then we’ll figure that out too, huh? Together.”
You don’t find the pills when you search the kitchen again, obviously. James hugs you tightly when you cry, whispering reassurances in your ear that everything is going to be okay. He tells you that he is going to take care of you. You don’t know what he really means, not yet. 
Your appointment with the doctor isn’t until several weeks later. James takes full advantage of that time, having his way with you anywhere and everywhere he can, really wanting to make sure it sticks. 
He sees the signs before you do, even before the doctor’s appointment. You practically fall asleep on him while watching TV in the evenings, and you complain about your breasts being sensitive when he touches them. James dotes on you, and you relish in it despite not having put the pieces of the puzzle together yet. It seems James has already solved the problem of you pulling away, the baby will just be the cherry on top. A permanent tie to him. 
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that birth control.” The doctor tells you with a smile when she walks back into the exam room. James beams victoriously when she says, “You’re pregnant! Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” You say shakily, glancing at James with worry and anxiety present all over your face. He swoops in as the hero, the one who is always there to save you.
“It’s okay, love, it’s actually wonderful.” He coos into your ear, hugging you tight to his chest. “It’s sooner than we wanted but that’s alright.”
“I’m sorry,” You whisper through tears, blaming yourself. James allows it, though he hates that you think he’d be upset with you. Especially about this.
“Shh, hey, look at me,” He cradles your face, wiping away the tears from underneath your glossy eyes. “I’m happy. This… is a blessing. Well be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You whisper shakily, sniffle, then repeat it again with a little more determination. “Yeah.” 
“I’ll be here for you every step of the way, okay? Forever.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, unable to stop himself from smiling. “I’m so happy, baby.”
There’s a long silence. You hug James back, the soft whirring of the office space audible in the quiet. When you answer, it’s low and uncertain. Shaky in a way that reveals your worry.
“Me too.” 
James pulls you even closer, the paper of the exam table crinkling as you shift. He’ll be your rock, something solid for you to hold on to. That’s what he wants. He’s going to keep you here, in his arms, forever.
No matter what it takes. 
°˖✧✿✧˖°
© prettydaisygirl
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mariacallous · 2 days ago
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WASHINGTON ― Senate Republicans on Tuesday passed President Donald Trump’s so-called “Big, Beautiful Bill,” a sweeping package that kicks nearly 12 million people off of their health insurance to give tax cuts to wealthy people.
The bill passed on a party-line vote.
The vote was so tight that Vice President J.D. Vance had to come to the Senate to break tie votes, both on the final amendment to the bill and on the bill itself.
The Senate vote came after Republican leaders scrambled for days to patch together the bill with quick fixes to win over senators worried about how the bill would hurt their constituents.
Sen. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska) had been wavering on the bill until the very end, and her vote was badly needed for its passage. GOP leaders reworked the bill for hours to try to win her support, huddling with her on the Senate floor in the early hours of Tuesday. They even added last-minute language to the bill favoring Alaska, but the Senate parliamentarian apparently ruled it out.
That led to her voting “no” in the end, and was the reason why Vance came to the Senate.
The bill provides billions of dollars for immigration enforcement and about $4 trillion in tax cuts for wealthy Americans, partially paid for by nearly $1 trillion in cuts to Medicaid, the state-federal program that covers health care costs for more than 70 million Americans.
The Senate’s version of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act still has to win approval from the House before it can become law. Many House Republicans have said they don’t like the Senate version, but it’s not clear if they’d be willing to face Trump’s wrath by blocking major legislation enacting much of his second term agenda.
One gripe from conservative House Republicans is that even with the extra Medicaid added by Senate Republicans, the tax cuts are so large the bill would add more than $3 trillion to the national debt, contrary to everything Republicans have said for years about fiscal responsibility.
Murkowski sought delays to the harsh Medicaid provisions for Alaska in just one example of state-specific backroom dealmaking that has typified Republicans’ approach to the bill, which they are rushing to finish by a totally arbitrary July Fourth deadline.
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sevikaswinkinghole · 20 hours ago
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The Music in our Hearts Pt. 2 ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.
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Your favorite DJ was performing a set for an underground event in your city, but you want more than barricade views. You want her.
NSFW
CW: RaveDJ!Sevika, Fangirl!Reader, hard techno music, yearning and mutual pining, Sevika and reader are 4 years apart in age, mentions of reader smoking weed, messy makeout, reader!receiving head, praise and dirty talk, dumbification if you squint reaally hard, pussy slapping, Vika has a tongue piercing and is cocky as fuck, consensual power dynamic, reader is written with curly hair and glasses (but anyone outside of that is more than welcome to read),
Word count: 5.2k
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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
You groaned at the sound of your blaring alarm as the scorching sun bled through your sheer curtains, the bright light hurting your tired eyes after a long sleepless night. The dark bags and puffiness under your eyes matching the exhaustion all over your face.
You blindly grab your glasses and slip them on before turning off the alarm and shuffling your tired feet to the kitchen to make breakfast. The events of last night wore heavy on your sluggish body as you recounted all the shitty things you did. After thoroughly embarrassing yourself in front of your biggest inspiration and favorite artist ever, you spent the night crying and scrolling through social media looking at all her posts. Hurt and jealousy burned like hot coals through your chest as you saw thousands of comments on the masked’s ones instagram post about the previous night.
‘Enforcer we love you!!’
‘Love your mixes, come to brazil!’
‘We waited outside your tour bus all night! thanks for the great show <3’
The last comment made you groan from the mere thought of other fans acting just as crazed as you did. Celebrities and smaller known artists deserve privacy and respect, and you knew that all too well. But you couldn’t help but dream about seeing The Enforcer in that tour bus, her wide eyes and scarred lips seared into your brain like you’d been branded.
Never in your life did you think she would be so…beautiful. She had a kind of beauty that made your chest coil tight at the thought of her chiseled features and soft brown skin. Your heartbeat quickened at the mental image of her without the mask, and you racked your brain for all the times you could have seen her in passing and never known. But after some pointless doom scrolling and relentless digging through old college memories and music events, you couldn’t find a single photo of the woman without the mask. The Enforcer really did her due diligence to make sure her identity was never to be found.
A harsh knock at the door startled you, pulling you from your Enforcer induced daydream you found yourself in quite often. You walked over and you opened the door to see a brown skinned woman with gold accessories adorned through her hair and jewelry. She wore a tight fitting white athleisure set, expensive white running shoes, and had on big thick sunglasses that hid most of her face. A taller tan man stood behind her, his all black attire and matching sunglasses making the pair look more threatening than they realized. Or maybe they knew and just wanted to scare you…
“Good morning! My name is Mel,” She spoke cheerfully, reaching out to give you a firm handshake before pulling out her phone to look through a list she had ready to go. Her clean attire and delicate features looked familiar, familiar enough to make you feel imposed in your big shirt and basketball shorts combo. The bonnet on your head completing the outfit and making you feel overly underdressed.
“G-Good morning, Im-” You went to introduce yourself, but the guard interrupted your thought by holding out a neon purple flyer with a wristband on top.
“No need, we know who you are love, this is for you!” Mel said she handed you the items. As you look down at the flyer for the underground rave you already had plans on going to, you realize it was the second stop of the Enforcer’s tour. And with the previous night’s excursions, you were trying to stay as far away as possible out of fear (and second hand embarrassment).
“Oh, um…thank you? But I uh..can’t make it” you slipped up on your words and gave the two a weak grin. Mel looked up from her phone with a confused expression written all over her beautifully symmetrical face.
“Oh? May I ask why?” Mel asked politely, yet you noticed her eyeing you up and down even behind the shades. You could barely read her tone or hear the sarcasm dripping from her smooth voice, but you knew her eyes felt like daggers behind the large sunglasses.
“I…” You paused, the events of the tour bus coming back to you in hazy waves “think..I came down with something!” You added, your lie sounding as fake as the cough you forced out to make your story seem even slightly plausible.
Mel sucked her teeth and typed something in her phone before putting it away “Alright well, hope you get better soon! We’ll have to tell The Enforcer you denied her personalized invitation.” She spoke with a slight smirk, the emphasis on the name drop forcing you to tear your eyes from the poster to lock into Mel’s powerful gaze.
“Huh??” You gawked, realizing where you knew the prim and proper woman in front of you “You must have the wrong apartment..” You ranted, truly not believing your fuck up from last night put you into the grasp of The Enforcer and her influencer manager with millions of followers.
Mel_Medarna was a powerful force in the music industry. Social media played such a big role in the biggest hits of new music, Mel (thanks to the help of her powerful record label owning mother) was able to tap into a niche influencer/artist manager role that allowed her to blow up astronomically. You couldn’t believe she was standing in front of you, let alone inviting you personally to anything she’d be at. Mel removed her sun glasses and grinned softly, taking a small step towards you as she took the flyer from your hand and held up the wristband.
“This invitation has been specifically reserved for you. The Enforcer speaks very highly of you, and she would like to formally invite you backstage tonight” Mel’s words rang through your ears like bells, the thought that your mere presence on the tour bus got you a backstage pass made your heart almost leap out of your chest.
“So, can I inform my client of your attendance?” Mel asked with a tilt of her head, her flowy curls bouncing with the movement.
You slowly nodded and took the flyer back, her words repeating in your head as the wristband was dropped in your other hand.
“Perfect! We’ll have a car waiting for you out front at 9” She smiled and put her sunglasses back on before leaving with her guard in tow behind her.
They left you in front of your studio door; shock, horror, and pure elatement coursing through every atom in your body. As soon as you entered the sanctity of your home and closed the door, an internet obsessed fangirl level squeal left your body that pierced your own ears and took all the air out of your lungs. As you fell happily onto your bed, the only thought in your brain was,
“What the fuck am I gonna wear???”
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You tried to pull your mini-skirt down as much as you could, the tight fitting fabric squeezing in all the right places as you wiggled nervously in the back of the blacked out chauffeur car. The driver said very little to you, and kept speaking into a black walkie that barked orders about the upcoming event tonight. You always knew The Enforcer was on the up and up with her career, but you never realized how important she truly had become.
The driver soon pulled up to a grand concert hall, the large glass windows and bright lights making your stomach flutter at the sheer beauty of the building. As you exited the car, you said a small thank you to the chauffeur before heading inside.
Mel met you at the entrance, her guard and a few other scary looking men and women stood with her awaiting your arrival. Mel wore a white two piece set with fur lining the collar and thigh high boots. Her curly hair fell down over her shoulders and framed her face in a way you couldn’t help but envy. She was always so put together, it made you wanna look the part just to stand next to her. You shuffled over and waved at her and the guards, “All this just for me?” You joked with a small smile, Mel grinning and her guard actually chuckled.
“Actually, a few of them, yes!” Mel laughed and interlocked her arm with yours before pulling you towards the back of the building. Her friendliness and warmth eased a bit of your anxieties as her guard led the both of you through the halls of the large venue, tall ceilings and chandeliers inside the extravagant space nothing like what you were expecting before tonight.
“S-” Mel paused before clearing her throat “The Enforcer, made me promise to keep you safe and happy before the show. And, she requested extra back up for the journey” she said with a nod to the guards who followed safely behind you both.
You nodded and looked around nervously at the building you had stepped into, so in awe of the space that you didn’t even notice the slip of the name. Your miniskirt, heeled boots, and sheer baby tee felt out of place in the grand building as you trailed alongside Mel and her guard like a lost puppy. You soon found out his name was Jayce, he was Mel’s personal security guard and they were inseparable. You saw the way she’d whisper things to him in between checking her phone, making his normal stoic face scrunch in laughter. He led the both of you through the nicer parts of the building, then through dark corners and saw trap looking hallways. At this point your stomach was well past butterflies, it felt like mothman and his little friends were throwing their own event in your intestines. You should have been a little scared, maybe even anxious about where these people (who you just met..) were taking you. But none of that mattered, because you were about to meet The Enforcer. Jayce opened one last door to a rickety freight elevator that looked like it was used to carry people in and out of mines, your grip on Mel’s arm tightening as a light flickered above you.
“It’s not that scary, I promise” Mel winked before taking Jayce’s outstretched hand to assist her onto the moving metal deathtrap. You unlinked from Mel and took the hand of one of the female guards, allowing her to help you into the elevator before they sealed it up. The metal box slowly descended down, bringing you all the way to the lowest basement level. Once everyone got off and journeyed further into the dark grimy basement, you heard the slow build of bass music and strobe lights illuminating bright enough to see from far away.
Jayce led the group off the beaten path to a side entrance door, opening it to reveal a very well kept green room. The walls were covered in graffiti and writing from past artists and djs who’d performed there, and the hard concrete floor was covered in persian rugs that looked worn yet loved. Snacks, drinks, and liquor littered a nearby table that sat across from a set up of worn in leather and vintage corduroy couches. You looked at the art covered walls and grinned at the few names you did know, seeing a couple DJs you enjoyed and a few rappers.
“So,” Mel interrupted your snooping, sitting cross legged on the arm of one of the couches as she read from a list on her phone “The Enforcer goes on in about 10 minutes, keep that wristband on so security knows you’re with us. The show is only about 2 hours so you’re more than welcome to relax back here!” She said with a smile, her radiance made you smile in return.
“Thank you for…all of this Mel. I can’t believe I'm here..” You mumbled the last part, biting back an excited child-like grin as you peaked at the snack table. You could barely eat, you were so electrified to properly meet The Enforcer, your stomach was in knots. You thought about her strong features and piercing silver eyes watching you, the strength of her gaze etched into your brain so deep you could feel it. You just had to wait for the show to end.
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Off the green room door, a wide stage sat at the head of the large basement venue with low ceilings and concrete beams that stabilized the cramped space. It was a huge juxtaposition of the elegant concert hall above, but it made the perfect spot for a rave.
The show was a major hit. The Enforcer performed a similar mix to the one from the previous night, but the beat was changed and she added extra flair to make it unique. You watched meticulously from the sidelines of the stage, your eyes studying the form and technique that allowed her skills to translate perfectly from flesh to mech hand. Her eyes looked so focused on her deck, yet you caught the split second she glanced over to where you stood next to Mel. It made the moths in your stomach start partying all over again.
Everything after that felt like a blur, and before you knew it people were cheering for her final mix. The crowd was so lively and dynamic you could practically see the grin behind her mask. She waved at the crowd and gave her silent thank yous, her fans shaking the barricade and screaming her stage name so loudly it gave you an out of body experience. You could picture yourself in their shoes, screaming and having the time of your life thanks to the DJ you spent so long adoring from the crowd. It was surreal to go from an adoring fan, to standing backstage alongside The Enforcer’s own manager.
Her dark frame soon vanished from the stage, the hustle and bustle backstage starting rapidly as people crowded around the woman to shuffle her off the stage to the green room. You followed behind the pack, sitting on the worn leather couch waiting until the perfect moment to ‘properly‘ introduce yourself. Mel was off ushering the rest of the team to pack up the equipment while Jayce helped the masked DJ remove her show attire. She started with the cloak, then the headset she wore underneath, and finally the mask.
You couldn’t help but stare as she set the mask down, turning to you with gentle eyes and an unreadable expression. Jayce took the clothes away and left you two alone in the green room. You stood and went to speak, but lost all courage as she stepped towards you. The view of her sharp jawline and muscular figure had you at a complete loss for words, never imagining this much woman could be under a silly cloak and mask.
“Thank you for coming,” Sevika spoke first as her hands balled up into tight fists and released repeatedly. You could sense her nervousness, which allowed you to ease your own. “I didn’t think you would..”
“After last night I almost didn’t” You chuckled and gave her a nervous smile “But I wanted to introduce myself properly, and say how sorry I am about…everything” Your words hung in the air as Sevika looked down at your fidgeting hands. You both looked like a couple nervous kids, not knowing what to say or even how to say it.
“I know who you are, if anything I should introduce myself first” Sevika grinned and held out her flesh hand “I’m Sevika, it’s great to finally meet you (Y/N)”
Sevika. Her name tasted like sweet honey and jasmine on your tongue, the missing piece to your hopeless fangirl romance was so worth the wait you couldn’t help but smile wider at her words.
“Well, lovely to meet you Sevika.” You shook her hand with a firm grip, trying to ignore the obvious hand size difference..or how calloused and perfect they felt against your own. The realization alone made your brain haze over in Sevika shaped clouds. You tried to keep calm, cool and collected as you both sat on the couches and got to talking.
You found out Sevika was a senior at your college when you saw her live your freshman year. Her first real set was at Mel’s sorority house, and she noticed you out of every other drunk girl at the house show. Your energy and personal style was such a contrast from her peers, you couldn’t help but catch her eye in the crowd. Even after she graduated she never stopped thinking about you. You changed so much through college and post-grad, and she proudly watched that growth from the stage. She never got the chance to actually talk to you after her shows, but with Mel’s internet prowess, Sevika was able to find out more about you than she anticipated. You wanted to be surprised, but your digital footprint was tragically detailed. So tonight, while Mel and her team handled striking equipment and Jayce loaded the tour bus, you two finally talked. About your life, her life outside of being a DJ, your current job and hobbies, and not once did you bring up the tour bus or your fanship. Until she did.
“So..should I bring up what happened last night?” She asked with a small smirk, your skin immediately burning as your face flushed crimson.
“Ummm…..no you should not,” You laughed and bit your lip nervously, noticing how her eyes flicked down to the taut skin “Tell me more about your tour!”
“No no no I think we should definitely talk about it” Sevika chuckled, a genuine gut chuckle that made the little gap in her front teeth more prominent. You bit back a cheesy grin, promising yourself to the sound of her laughter.
“I would say I’m mad you broke into my tour bus, snooped in my room, and left without saying goodbye,” Sevika started, her smirk growing. She gently pinched your chin between her fingers and lifted your head, grey eyes capturing you in her dominant gaze.
“But how could I be mad at my biggest fan?” She mewled.
Your stomach churned at her words as you locked eyes with the larger woman. From the warmth of her hand on your chin, to the close proximity you didn’t even realize you were both closing, everything about the moment felt like a dream. Her warm breath tickled your nose as you both inched closer, it felt like a solid thread wrapped around your hearts and pulled you closer and closer as parted lips yearned to connect. You were never one to take risks. The tour bus was the worst thing you’d done in a long time, yet it has led to the best night of your life. So what was one more risk?
In an instant, you took the leap and closed the gap, soft lips meeting scarred ones in mutual want and union.
The kiss was like nothing you could explain in simple words. She tasted like nicotine gum and whiskey, a pre-show ritual of hers you found out from….certain online sources. The smokey mint taste mixed with that white musk and amber scent you couldn’t get enough of. It filled your senses and captivated you in ways you never imagined, and if you weren't whipped for the woman before tonight, you certainly were in deep shit now. Sevika’s immediate acceptance of the kiss pulled you back into those Sevi shaped clouds, her scarred lips moving passionately against yours while her arms moved to hold your waist. Your right hand moved up to grip a fist full of Sevika’s black t-shirt, pulling her impossibly close to you as your left hand ran through her short haircut and gripped on the strands.
“Ah f-fuck..” Sevika groaned against your lips, hands moving to feel the soft plush skin that peaked out under your shirt. You grinned and tugged on the follicles of hair, pulling away from the kiss and holding her head back enough to press feather-like kisses on her neck. You reveled in her scent as your lips moved with precision, nipping at the skin softly as to not leave marks, but enough to get those sexy noises out of her.
“You’re so gorgeous Sevika..” You purr against her skin, the sound of her name coming off your lips making her growl under her breath. You said it like you wanted to get fucked.
In less than a second, she reached up and took your hands, quickly pushing you onto your back and pinning your arms over your head on the couch. She hovered over you with a settled leg between your own, her larger mech hand pinning both of yours easily while her flesh hand stayed planted at your waist.
“I should be telling you that doll.” She smirks, your wide eyes and warm pulsations showing your obvious arousal at the nickname. The pet name reverberated through your chest and had you soaked through the g-string that accompanied your very short skirt.
Sevika’s lips soon met yours again, her tongue slipping through to french kiss as she used her flesh hand to reach up your shirt. You felt a little metal ball bounce between your teeth, your legs shaking at the feeling of her tongue piercing exploring your warm mouth. Her calloused fingers push your shirt and bra up to toy with your hardened nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves from the top of your head down through your toes. Your body was aflame as she felt you up, warm hands coaxing your brain into mindless submission as she pinched your nipple and rolled it between her fingers. You moaned into the kiss and tried to wiggle free from her strong grip. You wanted, needed to feel her, feel every bit of her in every nerve under your skin, in every capacity possible. You pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you two in pure heat and passion.
“S-Sevika please…more please~” You begged, eyes hazy as you looked up at her with as much seduction as your mushy brain could muster. She groaned at the sight of you as her flesh hand reached up to slip her thumb past your plump lips. You instinctively wrapped your tongue around the digit and swirled it around, your eyes fluttering shut as you sucked obediently on her thumb.
“Good girl, but in order for me to do anything you must use your words doll” She grinned devilishly, moving her head down to your neck to kiss along your earlobe “Tell me what you want baby..”
Her words made your stomach flip as her thumb soaked in your mouth, Sevika’s lips moving from kissing your ear to biting down along your neck. The older woman went to work at marking you up, since she spent so long watching you from afar, she was determined to claim you properly. You squirmed helplessly and moaned around her thumb, pursing your wrecked lips to kiss it gently.
“Please Vika please take me, I need you, all of you deep inside me baby please..” You whined, willing to beg and plead for any kind of release to your soaked core. Your words caused a soft moan to escape the woman on top of you, her thumb sliding down from your mouth all the way down past the hem of your skirt.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” She smirked, thumb pressing against your covered clit. The sensitive bud pulsed against her digit and caused you to moan loudly. Sev quickly covered your mouth with her mech hand and laughed quietly.
“Shhh doll someone will hear you,” Sevika spoke above a hushed whisper, an evil smirk on her face as her thumb moved in agonizingly slow circles “And we wouldn’t want someone to see you all spread out in this little skirt for me, would we?”
You hesitated, the mind numbing feeling of her thumb not allowing you to process most of what she was saying. But a merciless SLAP to the sensitive area made you choke out another loud moan that muffled behind the cool metal of Sevika’s hand.
“Answer me” She growled, soothing the slap by returning to the slow circling motion. You whimpered and nodded fervorously under her hand, eyes rolling back in pure bliss as she quickened the pace.
Sevika continued her rough kisses and territorial biting down your neck and chest, simply lifting up your skirt to kiss along your inner thighs instead of removing it fully. Something about the sight of you half-clothed and fucked out for her filled the woman with pride, and desire. Her flesh hand put one of your legs over her shoulder, and pinned the other to your chest. Her mech hand stayed covering your mouth as she licked a long stripe over your cloth covered clit, your body tensing as you let out a shaky moan. The electrifying pleasure was so much to handle, your hips bucked up into her mouth for more. The woman tightened her grip on your pinned leg and pushed you further into the couch.
“Don’t move, or i’ll stop” She warned as she pulled your g-string off with her teeth. You moaned pathetically and nodded, watching her lewd movements as she peeled off your slick underwear from your even wetter pussy. The honey-like fluid glistened on your sensitive bud as it throbbed with need. Sevika couldn’t help but moan at the sight, her underwear dampening at the view of you so desperate under her. She never thought seeing your precious face front and center at her shows would lead to such sweetness.
She flattened her tongue and licked slow and steady between your folds, your arousal dripping down her chin as your back arched off the couch. Her tongue piercing added an extra cruel pleasure to the lick, the warm metal adding that perfect resistance to make you whine and groan under her touch. She lapped at your core hungrily as her grip on you tightened. Your taste and pheromones filled Sevika’s senses deliciously, her nose resting on your mons as she ate you like she’d never eaten before. It was messy, carnivorous, and downright obscene how perfectly she ate you out. But the way you moaned and sobbed under her, legs shaking like the pleasure was already too much to handle while you practically drooled in pure bliss, had Sevika utterly enamored.
She’d been with very few fans in the past, and had plenty of women thirsting for her on the regular. With or without the mask. But, your love and desire felt completely different from the others. Your body and spirit called out to Sevika in a harmonious way, it felt like a deep longing she never connected with finally broke into her tour bus and captured her heart.
She moaned against your skin, relishing in your flavor as her mech hand moved down from your mouth to pinch your nipple again. You let out a pitchy whine and moved one hand to hold your pinned leg steady while the other covered your mouth, you were trying so hard to be good for Sevika you bit down on the skin to silence your cries of pleasure. The slow build of your orgasm grew as Sevika pulled herself and her flesh hand away to rub your clit, while her lust filled eyes watched your delighted expression.
“You taste so sweet doll, can’t get enough of this pussy” She moans, licking her lips in pure indulgence at your flavor. A blissed out euphoric giggle left your mouth as you moved your hand, covering her mech one with your fingers as you gently squeezed.
“It’s all y-yours..” You whimper, hips bucking against her slick covered hand. Sevika smirked and slowly slid her middle finger between your folds, pushing the extremity deep into your warm walls. You felt yourself fill up so perfectly, her finger fit the mold of your body like a glove, causing a strained whine to leave your lips.
“Mine huh? You want me to own this pussy?” Sevika spoke as arrogance dripped off her tone “Haven’t made you cum once and you’re already so good for me doll” She cooed, letting you adjust to one finger before adding her ring finger alongside it to stretch the tight fit. You couldn’t bite back the pornstar quality moan that left your lips, your hands reaching out to pull the woman close enough to crash your lips against hers.
You were both in the throes of each other’s pleasure, lost in messy spit filled kisses and harsh thrusts of Sevika’s hand. Her strong wrist moved expertly to rub your clit with her thumb while fucking your cunt roughly with her two fingers. Your whole body rocked with the force of her hand as you tried to focus on the kiss. The build up in your core threatened to spill over as you pulled away from the deep connection, eyes rolling back in your head as Sevika latched onto the other side of your neck left bare. She was so enthralled in your pleasure, she couldn’t help but bite down on your soft skin as the pads of her fingers hit the spongey entrance to your cervix.
“F-Fuck baby you’re gonna..” You paused, the build up getting more and more intense as your moans and needy whining echo through the greenroom “G’na make me c-cum Vika” Your voice slurred as your hips met each lewd thrust.
Sevika licked over the large hickey on your neck, her pace never faltering as she let her piercing nudge against each mark. The slight pain sensation sent you toppling over the edge, the strongest orgasm you’d ever experience crashing over your body in tsunami size waves. You sobbed at the intensity, legs seizing as your brain turned into straight mush. Thick creamy sap coated Sevika’s fingers as she slowed down her pace, letting you ride out your high on her digits while she coaxed you down.
As she slowly pulled her hand away from your heat, she lifted her soaked fingers and licked them clean, her sharp gaze never leaving yours as you looked at her through soaked lashes. You sniffled and whimpered, already missing the feeling of her deep inside you. She gripped your chin possessively and squeezed your cheeks together, mewling at your sweet worn out face.
“Such a good girl, sweet thing like you deserves the world” She mumbles softly, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before helping fix your clothes. You chuckle tiredly as she slips your underwear into her pocket before helping you up off the couch.
“What are you planning on doing with those?” You ask with a raise of your brow, Sevika shrugged and grabbed the last of her things from the show.
“No idea what you’re talking about love,” She cooed and grinned, slipping her free hand around your waist and kissing your temple “You wanna get outta here? Maybe..back to my hotel?” She asked, biting back a smirk behind that gap you couldn’t get enough of.
“Only if you tell me what you’re planning with those panties Sevika!” You laugh, letting her lead you out of the greenroom with the guide of her strong arm.
Your legs still felt weak from before, so you lean against her as you both head out of the basement, hand in hand with everything you ever wanted.
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This was waaaay longer than intended but still so happy with how it turned out!
Also, yes i'm glazing Mel in a lot of this, yes it will happen again. She's so pretty and perfect she needed a place in the story 🥺
As always, thank you SOOOO much for reading! Your feedback and support encourage my writing so much and I love each and every one of you!!!
Please let me know how you like it!
Love,
Squuoosh ❤︎₊ ⊹
Taglist: @lonerslug , @mewl3tte , @sapphicstrawcore , @lia-winther , @relrifda , @riotstemple29 , @womenlover360 , @shxdy0ariia , @normal-human-girl
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jakeandalexia · 19 hours ago
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DPXDC No matter what happens, we stay together.
With all the Vivisection AU's having been done, surprised this hasn't been done yet.
This happens as usual, the GIW get far too competent for Danny's liking. Danny is stressed and tired, not to mention Ellie is in Town. She was supposed to be here for a week before flying off, but she's currently trapped in Town unless she can slip past them.
But Danny was so exhausted, he didn't bother looking at his surroundings when he shifted back to Human ... right in front of his Parents.
The whole Shebang happens, of Danny getting captured and Vivsected. Worse when Ellie tries to save him, but fails - and gets trapped too. They were in there for an agonizing 3 hours, until Jazz finally comes home from her Tour of College.
Jack and Maddie Fenton have already left the house, getting their Findings to the GIW. By the time Jazz came downstairs, she was horrified. Saved her brother, and quickly stitched him up as best as she could, and took Ellie and Danny into the Ghost Portal and towards the Far Frozen.
But she had a few calls to make.
~*~
Now, this was something Danny has been planning since last year. And he made sure that all of his friends and allies knew. That included the Nicktoons, and as dark as that was - he couldn't risk it.
Spongebob and Jenny remained optimistic, hoping that Danny's parents would accept him. Timmy didn't have a lot of hope, but he wished that was the case. Same with Cosmo and Wanda, alongside their son Poof ... or, Peri. Jimmy understood, and remained cautious - but even he had a small bit of hope. Manny hoped too, things would be alright.
But things didn't.
And Jazz pulled out her Communicator. Jimmy made one for every single one of Danny's allies, and that included both in other Universes ... and his own.
Sure, Danny's Universe had the Justice League in it. But when have they ever actually been helpful? They called, and called, but no one came. Dismissed them as nothing but a prank. So, he just worked it out on his own.
It's ... still not pretty, considering he's Filleted Open right now, but Jazz is here. She helped him, and she's helping Ellie. By the time they made it to the Far Frozen for Treatment, Jazz pulled out her own Communicator and dialed in a Code.
CODE: WHITE.
~*~
Sam, Tuck and Val all had communicators too. When they saw the Code, they knew. They packed, and prepared, and waited for a Portal to open to pick them up.
When Jenny and Spongebob got the Code, Spongebob was devastated. It was his off-day, and he dropped everything to go to HQ and help Danny. Jenny too, and ... well, Nora Wakeman knew about her adventures across the multiverse. And she knew about the plan too.
Nora wouldn't mind at all for getting Danny adopted. And Jenny jumped through the portal to find Danny.
Timmy and Jimmy flinched at the notification, but the knew what to do. And with his Fairy GodParents, they Poofed from his Home to the Lab. And Jimmy went to work enacting Code White.
Manny really did not expect Code White. His own Grandpapi was a Villain, but even he would not do something like that. Puma Loco was a Thief, not a murderer. Manny left immediately.
~*~
When every Nicktoon, and Ally showed up at the HQ - They were taken to the Far Frozen to see how Danny was. He was in intensive care, so was Ellie. So, they had to execute and plan Code White.
But what was Code White?
Completely Erasure. A Blank Slate, and vanish completely.
Danny told them all that the GIW nearly destroyed the Ghost Zone, the Infinite Realms. The thing that acted as a Glue for all Dimensions. While Volcano Island and the Mawgu was the Origin Point of the Universe, that was impossible to get to.
But the Realms can be accessed, and should that be destroyed - every single Dimension falls with it. Including the others. Even if they were to destroy the Portals, if they kept the knowledge, it wouldn't be long until they re-opened another Permanent Portal.
That's what Code White was. Should Danny be exposed, and not taken well - Code White is to completely wipe all signs of study and research about the Realms and disappear completely.
Danny was out of commission for now, so the Plan is now. Find every single GIW Base, free the Ghosts - erase all information, and then disappear completely.
And so, the Nicktoons United once more.
~*~
Meanwhile, the Justice League are getting reports of multiple Government Buildings getting destroyed by an anonymous group.
It all originated from a small Town called Amity Park ...
~*~
What do you think of that? I'd think that'd be quite interesting take. Vivisected AU, but with the other Nicktoons involved. How much angst and comfort can we add to this?
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luxcuriousao3 · 1 day ago
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Summary: John shows up at your place to return your pan. Somehow, this leads to him taking you on a "date." Word Count: 2763 Warnings: sfw, unrequited love (for Kyle) Notes: Part 3 my Price/Reader fic. (Masterlist)
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A week later, you stomp back into your flat and throw your keys onto the front hall table hard enough to nearly make the little catch-all bowl crack. You can’t bring yourself to care, just stripping off your purse and roughly hanging it on the coat rack, grumbling curses under your breath.
“Stupid photographer,” you mutter. “Stupid client. Stupid bloody agent.”
You’re halfway to the loo to take off your carefully applied makeup—fuck, but you’d spent hours on it this morning, all for nothing—when your phone rings. You’re sorely tempted to ignore it, but when you glance down, you see it's Kyle. You haven’t spoken to him since the day after the pub fiasco, ignoring his texts, but you know you can’t avoid him forever. You’d told him you forgave him—it’s time to act like it.
“Stalking me now, Garrick?” You ask as you pick up the FaceTime call, only raising the phone to your face once you flop onto the couch. “This is, what? The third time you’ve called in as many days?”
“I wouldn’t have to stalk you if you’d answer the bloody phone,” Kyle answers, and you can tell he’s not just annoyed, but worried. “Look, luv, if you’re still pissed about the other night, I get it. I fucked up. You don’t have to act like everything’s okay because you’re afraid I’ll be ups— did you just get back from a gig?”
You blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in subject. But Kyle’s brought his face close to the screen now, peering at it carefully. Of course he recognizes your modelling makeup. It may have been years since he’s done a gig himself, but the makeup has a specific look that’s hard to forget. Mainly because it takes so bloody long to do. Kyle used to complain the whole time, it nearly made you tear your hair out from frustration.
“Yeah,” you say, your anger rearing its ugly head again. “But no. I traveled over an hour to get there, only for them to take one look at me and say I wasn’t the right fit for what they��re going for. More like I’m not fit enough.”
You scoff, but you can’t quite hide the hurt you feel, not entirely.
“I could kill ‘em,” Kyle offers, completely serious. Concerningly serious. You must not be able to hide your reaction to that, either, because he backtracks. “Or just cause serious bodily harm.” You can feel your face do something, though you’re not sure what. When he speaks again, it sounds like a plea. “Property damage?”
“No, Kyle,” you tell him, letting out a long suffering sigh. “Don’t do anything illegal for my sake, you idiot. I don’t want to have to bail your arse out of jail in the middle of the night. Again.”
“We agreed to never speak of that,” Kyle responds quickly, and he looks over his shoulder, like he’s afraid of someone overhearing about his teenage misadventures. You snort, holding up your hands in surrender.
“Secret’s safe with me,” you reassure him, but you make no effort to keep the mischievous smile off your face. He narrows his eyes at you for a long moment, before letting out a hmph and leaning back a bit, so you can no longer see up his nostril. Thank God. He really needs to blow his nose.
Sometimes, I can’t believe I’m in love with this man, you think despairingly to yourself.
“Speaking of secrets,” he says, jumping topics once again. You think about bringing the conversation back around to the original one—because honestly, yeah, you’re still kind of pissed at him, even if you’d not said as much the other day, too busy pretending you weren’t nursing a broken heart after finding out he’d hooked up with some other girl—but decide against it. How are you supposed to explain how badly it hurt without spilling truths that could very well ruin your friendship? “There’s a rumor going around base that Price has a wife. The lads at the gate were saying some pretty bird came by last week to drop off dinner for him. Soap thinks it's true, the pillock, even reckons Price’s got a little one stashed away somewhere. I told him that if he can find proof of that, I’ll buy him drinks for the next year.”
Kyle chuckles, clearly not putting any stock in the thought, but you pale, clearing your throat awkwardly.
“Er,” you say, tugging at your earlobe nervously. “That was me.”
Kyle stops laughing, looking at you in utter confusion.
“You’re the Captain’s secret wife?” He asks, lost.
“No, you twit,” you roll your eyes. “I’m the one that brought him dinner. I wanted to thank him for getting me home safely.”
“Hold on,” Kyle starts, his voice growing agitated. “You visited the base I’ve been stationed at for years, for the very first time, to see Price? Not me?”
You try to respond, but he cuts you off before you can get a single word out.
“You didn’t even tell me you were coming,” he continues, and oh, oh no. He doesn’t sound angry anymore, just hurt. That’s so much worse. “If you’re that mad at me for the other night, why did you act like everything was fine when I called? Why won’t you talk to me like an adu—?”
There’s a knock at your door, and you jump, before grabbing onto the opportunity to avoid the impending argument with both hands.
“Sorry, Kyle, I’ve got to go, maintenance is here,” you lie. You don’t give him a chance to say anything else before you hang up, and promptly put your phone on silent.
Fuck.
You groan loudly as you get up off the ouch, taking a deep breath and smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles from your tracksuit, just taking a moment to collect yourself and pack away as much of the stress and hurt that you can. You grimace when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, the worried furrow between your brow and the hard set of your mouth that just won’t go away. Fuck it. Hopefully it will scare off whoever is at your door and you can wallow in peace.
Of course, the universe has other plans.
Standing outside your flat is Kyle’s Captain himself, holding a familiar glass pan in his hands. He’s wearing dark grey slacks and a black turtleneck, a silver, wide-faced watch on his left wrist, and he looks so good your heart skips a beat. You gape at him—unattractively, you’re sure—for a long moment, only snapping out of your shock when he clears his throat pointedly.
“‘Lo, love,” he greets you, amusement dancing in his squinted blue eyes. He holds up the pan. “Wanted ta bring this back to you, and thank you f’the meal. Was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.”
“Oh, erm, you’re welcome,” you stutter, completely caught off guard by his presence—and still distracted by how bloody handsome he looks. Good lord, he looks like he’s just walked straight off the cover of GQ. You step aside automatically, manners taking over, and gesture him into the flat. “Er, would you like to come in?”
John hums, looking around as he steps inside, following you down the short entrance hall into the living room. You belatedly take the pan from him with a muttered apology full of embarrassment, but he waves you off with an easy smile.
“Can’t say I’m not curious what your place looks like in the daylight,” he tells you as he leans against the counter and watches you put the clean pan away. You briefly wonder if he’s looking at your arse when you bend down to place it in the cabinet, but when you straighten up, he’s admiring the artwork on the wall over your couch. You refuse to acknowledge the hint of disappointment you feel. “All the lights were out when I brought you home, the other night. Was quite a struggle getting you through here into your room.”
You frown, confused and embarrassed.
“Why didn’t you just turn them on?” You ask, a little defensive. John just chuckles.
“I was going to, but you told me, and I quote, ‘If you wake my roommate up, I swear to God I’ll throw up all over you. I can’t handle her whinging right now.’” John’s laugh only grows louder at your mortified expression. “You’re quite a character, when you’ve had a few too many.”
“Oh my God,” you groan, covering your flaming face. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, John. I can’t believe… well, I can, but—God. You should have just dumped me on the couch.”
His smile quickly drops, and he looks almost offended at the thought.
“That’s no way to treat a woman,” he says firmly. Your heart does a flip in your chest. You already knew he was a gentleman, but good lord, hearing him say it like that was nearly enough to make you swoon. Curse your stupid little crush. “Especially one who’s not feeling well.”
“Who’s sloshed, you mean,” you correct, peeking through your fingers, words muffled by your hands. John hums again, but he doesn’t otherwise acknowledge your words, drumming his fingers on your countertop as he looks at you, hiding behind your hands. The intense gaze makes you feel suddenly foolish, and you drop them quickly.
“Off to somewhere nice?” He asks after a moment of just staring at you, seemingly unbothered by the awkward silence. You tilt your head to the side, confused, and he gestures to his own face. “You’re all dolled up.”
“Oh!” You exclaim, having forgotten all about your failed gig between the call with Kyle and John’s surprise visit. You glance in the mirror to see if you’ve smudged your makeup, but it's still perfectly in place. Thank Christ for setting spray. “Oh, no, I’m not going anywhere. I had a gig today. Well, I was supposed to, but they canceled on me after I already got there.”
You spare John the details, not exactly wanting to get into the fact that both the client and the photographer had found you too plain to work with. You try not to take things like that to heart—you’re used to it, being in this business—but never have you been dismissed after booking, preparing for, and travelling to a shoot. Sure, being told you’re ugly hurts, but it’s the wasted time and effort that stings the most.
“That’s rotten luck, darlin’,” he agrees. You think that’ll be it, that he’ll thank you again for the food and leave, but instead, he continues. “How about you join me for dinner? I don’t leave base very much, figured I’d take advantage of the chance for another nice meal. Doubt it’ll be as good as yours, but certainly better than the slop they serve in the canteen.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” you reply, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your night out…”
“Not intruding if I invite you, is it?” John asks with a wink and a smile. It startles a tiny, flustered giggle out of you. “Come now, love. Keep an old man company so he doesn’t have to dine alone this evening, will you?”
And oh, that does something to you. John’s not old, probably late thirties to mid forties if you had to guess, but he is older than you. Far older than you would typically go for, by a decade at the very least. You don’t think he’s asking you on a date, not really, but… you wouldn’t be opposed if he was.
Maybe going on a date with someone as charming as John will help you start to get over Kyle.
It’s never worked before, but maybe the third hundredth time is the charm?
(And if the thought of Kyle hearing about what you get up to tonight after you hung up on him gives you a sense of petty satisfaction… well. No one else has to know.)
“Alright,” you find yourself agreeing, biting your lip at the smile John gives you. “I have to change first, though. I’ll look like a frump next to you.”
“You’d look pretty in a rubbish bag, darlin’,” he replies easily, and you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now too. He chucks the underside of your chin, just a brief, light tap. “Cheeky. So long as you’ve got on that grin, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearin’.”
You blush brightly, unsure you can take much more of his teasing. You know he’s not really flirting with you, just like how this isn’t a real date. But there’s a certain thrill in pretending.
“Be that as it may, I’m still not going to wear a tracksuit to a nice restaurant,” you tell him, turning around to start heading to your room. “Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”
As soon as the door closes behind you, you ruhs over to your closet, rooting through it for an outfit you can wear—one that’s classier than you’d wear to the club, but not too fancy. You settle on a knee-length black dress with wide, draped half sleeves, a small, modest window at the bust, and tiny gold piece that rests over the hollow of your throat and serves to pull the fabric back together into a rounded neckline. You pair it with black tights and black kitten heels, unsure if you’ll be walking or driving, but wanting to be prepared for either.
Your hair is already done, along with your makeup, so you just do a few touch ups before heading back out. John is glaring at the flickering light in your kitchen like it’s mortally offended him, and you huff a laugh. He looks down at you, and you don’t think you imagine the flicker of hungry appreciation in his eyes, but it's there and gone so quickly that you can’t be sure.
“Gorgeous,” he says lowly, and paired with his heavy stare, the reaction makes your belly swoop and your core throb. You clear your throat and ignore it, giving him a little smile in thanks. “All ready?”
“Ready,” you answer, accepting his arm when he offers it to you. He leads you to the door, opening it and letting you go so you can step through, before threading your arm through his again. “Where are we dining, then?”
“Haven’t decided,” he hums. “Do you have a favorite place around here?”
“Francesca’s is nice,” you offer after a moment of thought. “They do a good Italian. Bit pricey though.”
“Francesca it is,” he replies. “And it’s my treat. I did guilt you into coming, after all.”
“You didn’t guilt me, John,” you protest, even though he kind of did. But only a tiny bit. “And that’s not necessary. I can pay for my own dinner.”
John just squeezes your arm lightly, neither agreeing or disagreeing, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“I’m serious,” you continue. “I know how to order within my budget. You’re not paying for me.”
“Alright love,” he soothes you, then nods towards the black SUV on the corner, nice but a bit of an older model. “This is me.”
He opens the passenger side door for you and helps you step up into the car, making sure you’re buckled before he closes it and rounds the car to get behind the wheel. As the engine starts, he reaches out to turn on the radio. Classic rock pours from the speakers at a low volume, and John immediately starts to drum his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat as he puts the car in reverse and pulls out onto the street proper.
“Didn’t take you for a fan of the classics,” you tease, and you see his beard twitch with a smile even as he doesn’t look away from the road.
“Oh?” He asks curiously. “What did you think I’d listen to, then?”
You pretend to study him for a long moment, humming and stroking your non-existent facial hair. His own twitches further.
“Smooth jazz,” you finally say, nodding to yourself. John chuckles deeply, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Can’t say I’ve ever really given it a try,” he admits. “Perhaps I should. Maybe you’re onto something.”
“Maybe,” you say, reaching out to turn up the volume. “Or maybe not. Classic rock is quite difficult to beat.”
“That it is,” John agrees, still laughing softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance at you for just a few seconds. “That it is.”
68 notes · View notes
lascvitae · 7 hours ago
Text
DISTRACTION ✵ YU JIMIN
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ARE YOU DOWN TO BE A DISTRACTION, BABY?
BUT DON’T DISTRACT ME, LET ME ASK YOU BABY
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ᝰ.ᐟ when rising designer y/n jeon is forced to marry her rival, karina yu as pr for her upcoming fashion launch, the only thing that proves to be messier than their contract is their feelings.
ᝰ.ᐟ pairing. model!karina × fashion designer!fem!reader ᝰ.ᐟ genre. enemies to lovers, slow burn ᝰ.ᐟ warnings/tags. forced/fake marriage, kissing, cursing, mutual pining, jealous karina, unresolved tension, yall argue and bicker a LOT, one bed trope 🥳 feat. sana of twice && giselle of aespa
ᝰ.ᐟ wc 12.5k (not proofread and ik there’s sm typos cause i was working on this late nights. i apologize chat i’ll eventually get to them and fix them all 🥀)
ᝰ.ᐟ katty a birthday present for my goat ( @1luvkarina ) <3 it was so longg and very much overdue but… happy belated birthday again angel 💕
(🎧) now playing — distraction by kehlani.
masterlist.
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TODAY SHOULD HAVE BEEN A good day. you slept great, had your breakfast, and the outfit you pictured in your head turned out perfect. your hair had no flyaways in sight. 
but it was too good to be true. like everything always is.
now, you’re sitting in a conference room with your mother, smiling through gritted teeth.
it’s a smile that you’ve perfected over the years. one that says you hope no one notices how your eye twitches every now and then.
across the room, karina stands like a statue. her arms are crossed and her platinum blonde hair is pulled back so perfectly it looks like she stepped off the runway. she’s flawless, and let's be real. probably completely miserable. 
there’s a strange magnetic pull about her. something about the way she carries herself that makes everyone else feel like they should be privileged to be in her presence. the cameras love her. the media loves her. and for some reason, they all buy the faux perfection she’s selling.
you, however? not so much.
karina has been in your life as long as you can remember. mostly because your mothers despise each other with their entire souls. they’ve spent decades one upping each other at every fashion show, gala, and event. your mother says karina’s family is all about “safe and boring designs” while karina’s mom says your family’s work is “overrated and hard to look at.”
you’re the only daughter from the “party” family who only made it big because of your name. karina’s the “cold, robotic model” who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else than in front of a camera, but somehow that just makes her even more untouchable.
you’re trying to launch your own fashion line while dealing with enough press coverage about your wild nights out. so yeah. this marriage? definitely not on your to do list.
but yet here you are. forced into this contract and forced to pretend everything is fine. not to mention, forced to marry a girl you literally cannot stand. 
just because your pr teams and families decided it was time for an “image overhaul.” apparently, a marriage between the rebellious daughter of a famous designer and the perfect, untouchable model would sell better than any brand deal.
“you really have to look so depressed? we’re about to sign a contract that will change both our lives and you can’t even pretend to be at least a little happy?” karina’s voice is sharp and direct but there’s an edge beneath it that makes you want to throw something at her. she’s glaring at you now.
“excuse me? maybe i don’t think pretending is worth it. i’m not the one trying to act like this is a dream.” you snap, your grip tightening around the pen. 
the blonde haired girl rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "you’re not the only one stuck in this, y/n. but maybe if you didn’t make a mess of your career by partying every weekend, we wouldn’t be sitting here." 
she glances towards your mother. "oh, and your brand’s in trouble, isn’t it? before the first launch. a little too much wild behavior?"
the nerve.
you want to snap back, you really do, but there’s no point. she’s baiting you and you know it. besides, you’ve had this fight in your head a thousand times already. you know she thinks you’re a mess and you know she thinks she’s untouchable.
"don’t act like you’re any better. you’re perfect all the time. isn’t that exhausting?” you mutter, feeling the sting of her words. 
“maybe. but at least i’m not the one sabotaging my future. let’s just get this over with.” she gestures to the paper where both of your names are already neatly printed.
you stare at the page for a long while, watching your name against the white paper. your whole life is about to change. again. but this time, there’s no turning back.
"fine.” you say, voice colder than you expected. you sign your name harshly like the pen could stab through the paper (and the paper is karina).
karina follows you with the slightest flicker of hesitation in her eyes. but it’s gone before you can grasp it, replaced once more by that perfect smile you hate. 
“there. we’re done.”
“yep. we’re done.” you mutter, tossing the pen down. 
the ink dries and neither of you are looking at each other but the realization of the situation dawns on both of you.
there’s a quick, awkward handshake. and then it’s over. at least for now.
───────────────────────
you’re in the backseat of the car, soft hum of the engine doing nothing to calm your nerves. your mom sits across from you with her eyes glued to her phone as if your world isn’t about to explode. her fingers click the screen with precision, completely ignoring the fact that your life is being tossed into the fire. again. 
you think back to the past few days. the whirlwind of meetings, press conferences and forced smiles, and contracts you had no choice but to sign. now you’re on your way to the penthouse. the penthouse. the one you’re supposed to share with karina. the girl who probably wouldn’t spare a second glance at you if the press wasn’t currently making you two out to be the next power couple.
“this is ridiculous, mom. i hate this. this whole thing.” you mutter, letting your head fall against the cold glass window while watching the city pass by. your mom doesn’t even look up.
“you don’t have a choice, sweetheart. you need to get your career back on track and this marriage will make the media forget all the mess that you’ve been in.” she says. it’s not in a mean way but it’s that tone of voice she always uses when she thinks she knows better than everyone else. especially you.
you roll your eyes because you’re tired, and honestly, the last thing you need right now is a lecture on how this could be the best thing for you. “i wasn’t asking for a lecture, mom. i’m just saying — i can’t stand her. we’ve hated each other for years.”
she lets out a sigh. one that makes you feel like she’s already heard this a hundred times. and while she probably has, it doesn’t change how you feel. “i know you don’t get along with karina, but you’re both professionals. this is business. nothing more, nothing less.”
“yeah, well, it sure doesn’t feel like business. we’re basically being sold as a brand now. it’s not even real.” you shoot back in a frustrated tone.
“of course it’s not real. but you’re going to make it real. you’re a designer, y/n. this is what we do. we sell ideas. you’ve always known how to sell an image.” she says, tone softening but you can still hear that undertone that you can never lose from her.
“great. so now i’m selling myself? i didn’t know that was the plan.” you say, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.
your mom finally glances at you. “this isn’t forever, y/n. just… don’t make it harder than it has to be. karina’s a beautiful, talented woman. she’s not as bad as you think.”
“oh, trust me, she’s exactly as bad as i think.” you mutter, staring at the city lights flickering past. you’re already picturing her standing in that penthouse with her perfect, stupid blonde hair. you hate her.
but your mom is right about one thing. you don’t have a choice. at least not anymore. the car slows, tires scraping against the pavement as it turns into a sleek, minimalist building with floor to ceiling windows. your new “home.” you hate the idea of it already.
“here we are. you’re going to be fine, sweetheart.” your mom announces, looking out the window like it’s some beautiful moment. 
you don’t feel okay. you feel like running miles away in your louboutins, iggy azalea style.
but you don’t say anything. instead, you just get out of the car, heels clicking on the marble floor as you step into your future. and apparently, karina’s future too.
the lobby is so silent it’s almost unnerving. clean lines and marble floors with chrome accents. it’s gorgeous, definitely. but it’s also soulless. exactly the kind of place you would expect karina to live in. 
you’re barely through the door before a concierge appears, offering a smile and a clipboard for you to sign.
you print your name quickly, barely glancing at it. another contract, another deal.
"your wife is already upstairs." the concierge says politely, emphasizing the word wife.
you don't even correct him. you just nod and head towards the private elevator, heart hammering against in your chest in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with excitement.
when the doors open to the penthouse floor, you step out. and karina is already there. 
she's standing in the middle of the massive living room, arms crossed, eyebrows arched. her hair is still pulled back into that same sleek bun, not a strand out of place. does that shit not hurt? 
but she looks exactly like you pictured her in the car. annoyingly perfect.
you barely have time to process the room before she opens her mouth.
"what took you so long?" she snaps. 
you stare at her, already exhausted. “really? that's the first thing you're gonna say to me?"
karina shrugs like she’s already bored with you. "i mean, some of us are trying to be professional about this."
you roll your eyes so hard that it’s a miracle that they don’t get stuck. "yeah because nothing says professional like fake smiling your way through a forced marriage. stop saying that, karina.”
"you could at least pretend to be grateful. you needed this more than i did.” she shoots back.
you step further into the room, ignoring the way her words sting. "oh, i’m sorry. i must have missed the part where you were a victim here. must be hard being the golden child of the industry."
karina scoffs. it’s a sharp and humorless sound. "and it must be so hard being the family disappointment."
your mouth drops open. "wow. you didn’t even hesitate with that one."
"i call it like i see it.” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she’s already won.
you let out a laugh devoid of humor, crossing your arms. "good to know the fake marriage is off to a great start."
for a moment, the two of you just stand there glaring at eachother like you’re about to launch into round two. and honestly? you would — if something over karina’s shoulder didn’t catch your eye.
you squint, stepping around her to get a better look into the side hallway.
and then you see it.
one bed.
one massive, king sized bed. centered neatly in one room.
your stomach drops.
"wait. is that… is that our bed?” you say slowly, blinking like maybe you’re hallucinating. karina turns lazily to look, face the definition of innocence. "oh, did you think we'd have separate beds? how cute."
"cute?! we have to share a bed?!” you basically shriek, spinning back towards her.
"it's king size. plenty of room. just… stay on your side.” she says it like that solves everything. like you’re supposed to be relieved about it.
you stare at her, absolutely baffled. "i'm going to lose my mind."
karina just smirks, stepping past you like this is all just some big joke to her. "then hurry up and unpack. you’re already late."
you don't even have any words. how could you think of any in this situation? 
so you just stand there, fists clenched, watching her disappear down the hallway like she owns the place (she does. a little). you hope she sleeps on the couch tonight. and the night after that. and so on.
you turn back to look at the bed again, your future flashing before your eyes.
welcome to your new life.
and unfortunately for you? this is only the beginning.
───────────────────────
you step out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your chest. the bathroom is massive but whst you noticed first were the two sinks. side by side. like this is some romantic couple getaway and not your impending doom.
you eye the counter and immediately claim the left sink, unpacking your skincare bag.
you’ve just finished patting serum into your cheeks when the door creaks open and you hear the telltale sound of slippers on tile. you don’t look. you already know.
she glides to the right sink without a word with her toothbrush in hand. like this is normal. like this isn’t your bathroom now too.
you glance over once. just long enough to catch the soft smirk on her face.
“what.” you snap.
“nothing.” she says through a mouthful of toothpaste, brushing like she’s in a colgate commercial. “you just take so long.”
you scoff. “because i have a skincare routine.”
“most people do skincare before they shower.”
you pause and turn slowly. “what the fuck did you just say?”
karina gives you a blank look like you’re the crazy one. “before.”
you gasp. “you do your skincare before you wash your body?”
“yeah?”
you stare at her, completely stunned. “what are you, a war criminal?”
“it makes sense—”
“no it doesn’t! you wash it all off. that’s like brushing your teeth before drinking orange juice!”
“okay well, it’s not like i’m using bee venom and fish eggs. some of us keep it simple.” she spits and rinses her mouth, casually grabbing mouthwash.
“coming from someone who used apricot scrub in high school.”
she gasps. “you did not just bring that up.”
“oh, i did. i remember. you had texture on your cheeks for a whole semester.”
“and now i have a chanel campaign. guess it worked out.” the blonde responds, slamming her mouthwash down.
“still. if you didn’t willingly destroy your skin barrier you wouldn’t have this much to say about mine.”
“you literally steamed your face with boiling water in high school.”
you spin towards her with wide eyes. “that was ONE TIME—”
“you looked like a tomato.”
“you exfoliated with kylie skin!”
“it was natural!”
“IT HAD WALNUTS IN IT!”
you’re both standing there now, halfway through your routines and glaring at each other.
“just— stay on your side.” she reminds you.
“i am on my side.”
you both finish in tense silence, bathroom radiating with the scent of toothpaste and passive aggression. when she spits into the sink, you do too. when she opens the drawer for cotton pads, you grab yours quicker. it’s petty.
eventually, she finishes first, walking back into the bedroom. you follow two minutes later and she’s already in bed. not just in bed. she’s hogging the comforter. no pillow barrier. no separation.
you stop in your tracks. “karina.”
“what.” she says flatly, eyes closed.
“no.”
“yes.”
“we talked about this.”
“you talked. i ignored you.”
“karina.”
“what?” she’s still not even facing you. laying on her side but curled under your side of the blanket. 
“pillow barrier. peace treaty.” you remind her, climbing in and aggressively yanking the comforter. “we agreed.”
“you agreed.” she mumbles.
“well you’re cosigning the agreement.” you say, tugging harder.
“you’re doing too much.”
“you’re so annoying.”
you both have a death grip on the blanket, refusing to look at each other. then finally, you give it one final yank that sends it perfectly into the middle.
“fine.” you say.
“fine.” she repeats. annoying. 
a minute passes. then her knee brushes yours.
you both freeze before violently scooting in opposite directions.
at least you’re able to fall asleep.
───────────────────────
you’re sitting on the edge of your shared bed in a robe, phone propped against a bottle of setting spray as aeri stares back at you mid bite of her yogurt.
“i’m just saying.” you whine. “i haven’t eaten yet and i feel like i’m being exploited. this is child labor.”
“you’re twenty three.”
“and?”
karina, who is currently sitting at the vanity while a stylist infects the area with hairspray to set her hair, doesn’t even glance up. “you’re overreacting. you’ll survive a few hours without toast.”
you scoff. “says the person who stole the entire comforter last night.”
she glances at you in the mirror, arching a perfectly filled in brow. “stole? you gave it up.”
“i did not.”
“you said, and i quote, ‘fine, take it. i hope you sweat hoe.’”
you look at aeri. “see what i deal with?”
aeri smiles, spinning her spoon around. your pout returns at the thought of food. “you two are unbearable. can you both please look hot and act cordial for like, one hour today?”
karina lets out a hum that’s annoyingly calm. “i’m always cordial. it’s her that keeps trying to start shit before ten am.”
“i’m not starting anything.”
“you’re accusing me of blanket theft.”
“it’s not accusations if it’s true!”
“be grateful that i didn’t threaten to put my cold feet on you.”
“first, ew! second, you did put your cold feet on me.”
she shrugs. “then we’re even.”
you roll your eyes and drop back on the bed before groaning dramatically. “i’m gonna die before the event. tell them i was too pretty for this world.”
aeri rolls her eyes through the screen. “stand up and get in the damn dress i picked or i’m making you listen to karina’s stylist permanently.”
the blonde haired girl smirks as the makeup artist starts dabbing concealer under her eyes. “we’d get along great.”
you lift your phone just to glare at her. “she’d dump you after ten minutes.”
“she’d take one look at your crusty lip balm collection and cry.”
you gasp. “you don’t even own lip balm.”
“i do. i just don’t lose it every three hours.”
a stylist walks past, setting a dress over the bed with a whispered “two minutes.” you sigh dramatically and push yourself up.
“okay, i’m going. if i don’t make it, tell my story.”
“i’ll tell them you died trying to sabotage me.”
“i’ll tell them you use skincare before you shower.” you say before shuffling off to the bathroom with the dress draped over your arm, grumbling about lack of food and betrayal by the entire world.
“i’m still here, by the way. just waiting for you to complain about something else.” aeri calls out, voice echoing from the phone.
you stick your hand out of the doorway and flip her off.
the stylist laughs. “is she always like this?”
karina doesn’t answer right away. her gaze flicks towards the bathroom door before she shrugs. “only when she’s being dramatic.”
“…so, always?” someone mutters.
karina just smiles, eyes back on the mirror.
you enter the room again a few minutes later, tugging at the waist of the dress and already shaking your head. “i don’t know. i feel like an ugly bridesmaid.”
the fabric’s nice. sure. the color’s fine. but it’s not doing anything for your mood or your ego. and definitely not for the cameras.
karina glances over at you lazily. the stylist’s still curling a piece of her hair but her eyes move. down, then back up. she doesn’t say anything at first.
then she speaks. “you don’t like it?”
“i feel like i should be holding a bouquet and crying.”
she looks you over again, this time more directly. then she casually nods toward the rack.
“try the black one.”
you pause. “that one’s yours.”
“no, mine’s the velvet one. that’s silk.”
you look at it. its off shoulder and fitted around the waist and hips.
“i’m not trying to match with you.”
“we’re not matching.”
“we’re both in black.”
“we’re both breathing too. wanna fight about that as well?”
you shoot her a look. “you suggested it.”
“you’ll look better in it.” she says flatly.
there’s a silence that you don’t know how to fill yet. so you just walk over to the rack and grab it.
when you disappear into the bathroom again, aeri’s voice rings from the phone.
“she does this shit on purpose.” she says.
karina doesn’t respond. instead, she glances down at her phone with a tight jaw and reaches for her lip gloss.
when you come back out, you immediately busy yourself by adjusting the straps and smoothing the fabric over your thighs.
her eyes do that one thing again. they’re barely lingering, like she’s afraid of being caught. there’s no reaction or words. only a look.
you turn towards her. “too much?”
she lifts one shoulder in a half shrug gesture. “better than the bridesmaid one.”
“that’s not a compliment.”
“didn’t say it was.”
you scoff but the heat in your face betrays you. she doesn’t say anything else, grabbing her heels before standing and brushing past you without another glance.
you stay behind for a second then follow after her, grabbing the fine chain of jewelry on the rack as you go. the miu miu pendant gleams in your hand. it was delivered by the same stylist earlier.
karina’s already at the front door of the penthouse by the time you’re slipping into your heels. she doesn’t wait.
“clock’s ticking, princess.”
you roll your eyes and grab your coat, catching up with her at the elevator.
“i still think they should’ve let us go separately.” you mutter as you press the ground floor button.
“they want a show and we happen to be one.” she says simply.
“hey. can you put this on?”
she blinks, clearly surprised. “what?”
“the necklace.” you mutter, holding it out without looking at her. 
she takes it without a word but there’s something in the way she lifts her hands behind you.
you tilt your head slightly, exhaling quietly.
her fingers graze the back of your neck and you flinch. not because it’s cold, but because it’s her. you’re close enough to feel the warmth of her breath as she fastens the clasp.
“there.” she murmurs.
you glance at her reflection in the elevator wall. she’s already stepped back with her arms crossed. like she didn’t just touch you like that.
“thanks.” you say flatly, adjusting the pendant.
“could’ve said please.” she replies quickly.
“i also could’ve asked someone else.”
she hums like she’s unbothered but you see her glance at your lips before she looks away.
then the elevator dings.
you both walk out in sync, heels clicking against the floor.
“wives. stunning as ever.” the concierge greets with a knowing grin.
you groan. “he’s doing it again.”
karina offers a smile that’s too charming. “he’s just doing his job.”
you elbow her, but not too hard. “stop feeding into it.”
“you asked me to help with your necklace in an elevator. that’s wife behavior.”
“it was for the brand. don’t make me throw my heel at you.”
“right. for the brand.”
the car’s already waiting for you outside. the driver opens the door and your “wife” slips in first. you follow, adjusting your coat and smoothing the fabric of your dress as you settle beside her.
“i’m not holding your hand.” you say.
“wasn’t asking.”
“…unless someone asks for a picture.” she adds casually.
“fake couple of the year.”
“we’d win.” she says without hesitation.
you sigh and glance at her outfit. it’s good. like, annoyingly good. you hate how good she looks. or rather, you hate that she looks good standing next to you. like this whole thing is real.
the city speeds past the window in blurs of warm light and for a few seconds, neither of you speak. the only sound is the click of karina’s nails against her screen and the occasional sound of fabric shifting when your legs accidentally brush.
she’s warm beside you and it’s annoying.
you glance over and realize she’s scrolling through the event seating chart, already planning where to sit and how to pose.
you on the other hand, just want to make it through the evening without getting caught drinking too much champagne or rolling your eyes on camera.
you pull your phone out and text aeri under your coat.
you
if i disappear halfway through the party it’s because i pushed her in the fountain
aeri 🧸
Y/N U CAN’T
you
u act like she doesn’t deserve it 🙄 
aeri 🧸
this would be a perfect enemies to lovers kdrama 🥹
you 
blocked
the blonde girl glances over then, lips barely twitching. “texting your fan club?”
“plotting your demise.”
she finally looks up and when your eyes meet, it’s brief, but it lingers. long enough to make you shift in your seat and look away first.
ew. you hate that.
the car slows outside of the venue, flashes already going off like the cameras were waiting specifically for this car to pull up. and honestly, they probably were.
your phone buzzes again.
aeri 🧸
make her laugh
yk they’ll eat it up
btw you guys look scary when you’re both silent
but its rlly hot
two hot scary gays 🤤
you sigh, slipping the phone away as the driver stops the car.
karina straightens her spine and adjusts her coat collar, fingers brushing the edge of her neck “ready?”
“don’t touch me.”
she huffs a laugh. “you wish i would.”
another fake smile. but your neck still tingles where her fingers were and her gaze lingers just a little too long before you both step into the light.
the flashes are disorienting at first.
“karina yu! over here!”
“y/n, who are you wearing?”
“is it true the two of you— ?!”
questions fly like migrating birds but you keep walking. you’ve done this before. being born into this environment taught you how to smile just right. chin tilted slightly, eyes soft but unreadable, lips parted enough to look like you might be about to say something scandalous.
karina walks half a step behind you at first, hands tucked into the pockets of her long black coat. she’s practically glowing under the camera lights. you hate that you notice. hate even more how well your silhouettes match.
she leans in slightly. “you’re slouching.”
you don’t look at her. “i’ll stab you with my heel right here.”
still, you straighten up.
the event handler ushers you both up the carpeted stairs and into the line for press photos. you stand with your hands at your sides. she shifts closer, barely brushing your shoulder. cameras shout your names and the lights start again.
her smile is elegant. yours is more cocky.
“closer, please! give us one for the fans!” someone calls.
you exhale through your nose. you really don’t want to, but karina’s already doing it, stepping closer like it’s nothing and brushing your arm like this isn’t war.
she leans toward your ear, voice soft so the mics won’t catch it. “you want them to think you’re the reluctant one or the mean one tonight?”
you turn your head. “i am the mean one.”
click.
the camera catches the moment your gaze meets hers and it’s way too intense and way too pretty. and you know it’s going to be on some fan edit by midnight with a stupid caption like “the way they look at eachother.”
you’re about to step away when someone from the pr team catches you both.
“quick interview. play nice.” they say.
you force your expression into something neutral as you and karina are ushered toward the mic.
the interviewer is smiling so wide that it’s kinda scary. like she’s so excited to be the one who landed the two of you. “y/n! karina! you both look absolutely incredible tonight. tell me— was the coordination planned?”
you open your mouth, but karina beats you to it with a sugary voice. “not at all. we just think alike.”
“scary, isn’t it?” you say with a dry smile.
the interviewer laughs. “there’s been so much buzz around you lately. everyone’s obsessed with your chemistry. how does it feel to have the internet calling you the most stylish couple of the year?”
karina glances at you and hums. “i think we’ll let the outfits speak for themselves.”
you cross your arms. “speak louder than her, at least.”
karina doesn’t react. she tilts her head and looks at you like you’re a puzzle that she can’t figure out. “i think i’m getting used to the sound.”
the interviewer blinks like she caught something in that moment but she keeps it moving.
“and last question. karina, would you ever consider walking in one of y/n’s shows?”
you raise an eyebrow and turn toward her, clearly amused.
she barely hesitates. “if she designs something worth wearing.”
you scoff. “guess i’ll have to start designing dresses with no personalities.”
she smiles with teeth. “perfect. you’ll have something to wear too.”
the interviewer is too stunned to speak for half a second before nervously laughing. “you two are—” she gestures vaguely, unsure of what to say. “unreal.”
you just smile sweetly, grabbing karina’s arm for the camera. “we know.”
there’s more flashes and buzz. the interview wraps up and you’re both guided into the main venue, shoulders bumping as you step inside.
you don’t look at her again but you feel her looking.
the event is dripping in excess. chandeliers like galaxies hang overhead with velvet walls and champagne towers. you fall in step in beside karina and immediately spot the flashes of press still hovering near the entrance, but you’re safe for now. it’s more exclusive inside.
karina doesn’t say a word when a waiter passes, simply grabbing two glasses of champagne and handing you one. you take it without looking at her.
you wander towards the corner, already recognizing half a dozen industry faces. that one creative director of some company you can’t stand. there’s a singer with their latest muse on their arm. and, of course, you can’t forget the permanently lurking cameras pretending to capture all the “natural moments.”
you’re mid sip when karina’s hand brushes your collarbone and you freeze.
“what are you—”
“your necklace.” she murmurs. her fingers are careful, almost tender even, adjusting the pendant so it lies flat.
“it was crooked.”
you give the blonde girl a skeptical look. “and that bothered you?”
she doesn’t answer, offering you a slow blink and dropping her hand like it didn’t leave heat trailing down your spine. before you can say anything else, a voice steals your attention.
“y/n, you look beautiful. who let you leave the house looking like that and not put you on a runway?” it’s sana, also known as the gossip queen. she’s sipping something from a martini glass and already looping her arm through yours.
“fashion’s newest hostage. have you met my prison guard?” you deadpan.
karina lifts her glass in an idle toast. “charmed.”
sana laughs. “she’s prettier in person. meaner, too. i like her.”
“don’t encourage her.” you mutter.
you’re pulled into more greetings and cheek kisses. karina floats a few feet away, effortlessly slipping into conversations. she doesn’t hog attention. it’s just magnetized to her. designers ask who she’s wearing, some leaning in too close. you try not to look but she finds your eyes through the crowd every few minutes like she’s checking if you’re still there.
you don’t know why that makes you feel steadier.
at one point she’s beside you again, half empty glass dangling from her fingers. your own drink is gone. hou’re about to gesture to a passing waiter when she wordlessly hands you her glass.
you hesitate.
she raises an eyebrow. “scared of my lip gloss?”
you take it and sip slowly. it’s still cold, barely touched.
she doesn’t look away and you pretend not to care.
───────────────────────
the event drags on. hours feel like days. eventually, you’re pulled into one last photo and handshake with someone who couldn’t name a single piece your entire bloodline has designed.
by the time you get back into the car, your heels are throbbing. karina settles in beside you with a sigh that you swear is real.
“finally.” she mutters.
“thought you liked playing dress up.”
“i like the check that comes after.”
you don’t have the energy to roll your eyes. you tilt your head against the window, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. 
“you did good tonight.” she says softly.
you turn your head. “what?”
her gaze is forward, voice quiet. “you looked good and didn’t throw a drink on anyone. impressive.”
“…thanks?”
she shrugs. “don’t get used to it.”
you laugh under your breath and let your head fall against the seat.
when the both of you step into the penthouse, you’re done. the coat’s halfway off your figure, heels discarded by the door. you kick them towards the corner and shuffle across the floor.
karina follows wordlessly, no more interest in bickering with you.
you flop onto the bed. your shared bed. “don’t touch me.” you mumble into the blanket.
karina walks into the closet and you hear the zipper of her dress a moment later.
you don’t mean to turn your head. you don’t mean to look.
but you do.
half of her form is a shadow, hair falling out of its updo as she changes into an oversized shirt and nothing else. she effortlessly takes out her extensions and you see the curve of her back.
then she’s gone again, disappearing into the bathroom.
you stay where you are, face half buried in the comforter and dress bunched awkwardly at your waist. you can hear the shower start a few moments later, water pressure shaking the pipes like the penthouse itself is sighing along with you.
you close your eyes. not to sleep, but just to rest.
the sound of the shower doesn’t stop you from thinking about tonight. no amount of cameras or flashes could make you forget about her hand adjusting your necklace with that softness.
you hear the water turn off and stir, blinking yourself upright again.
when she steps out of the bathroom, she’s wrapped in a white towel.
she glances at you for just a second, eyes flicking from your face to your legs and back, before turning toward the closet.
“don’t slip. if you bust your ass on the floor, i’m not carrying you.” you mutter, standing and peeling off your dress. “you’d be lucky to touch me.”
you scoff, already walking past her. “delusional.” you shut the bathroom door before she can respond.
the shower still holds some warmth, and you sink into it like you’ve been waiting all night.
you dry off quickly after and walk back into the room in one of your own oversized shirts.
karina’s already in bed, lying on her back and scrolling through her phone with the brightness way too high. you flop into your side.
she doesn’t move. “you always smell like strawberries and flowers.”
“are you sniffing me right now?”
“i’m just saying. you always do.” she shrugs it off, but there’s a flicker of something in her voice.
you roll over, facing away. “stop being weird.”
she doesn’t respond immediately, but the glow of her phone finally dims.
you hear her exhale through her nose aou hear the sheets shift. her knee brushes yours under the comforter. barely.
“you snore.” she says way too casually.
“do not.”
“you did last night.”
“you’re making that up.”
“i should’ve recorded it.”
“you’re sick.”
“you like it.”
you do. and you hate how much you do.
but instead you groan and throw the comforter over your head. “goodnight.”
you hear her turn onto her side behind you. except this time, she’s closer than before.
“night, petal.”
you’re still smiling when you fall asleep.
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THINGS START TO SHIFT WITHOUT warning. or perhaps the warning signs were always there, hidden behind the way she says your name and looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.
it begins with the press. you know, photoshoots, events and interviews. before, it was your names side by side in headlines some skepticism, but now they become one. the jeon-yu duo. they refer to you as y/n yu now.
“natural chemistry.” one reporter calls it, voice dripping with fascination. obviously, karina doesn’t flinch. she’s used to pretending for the cameras.
but lately, it’s not pretending anymore. at least not completely.
the first time it catches you off guard is during a vogue shoot.
you’re halfway through a pose when the photographer sighs and mutters something about needing “more intimacy.” karina’s arm slides around you without any hesitation, hand resting against your side while her thumb grazes the bare skin above your hipbone.
she doesn’t even look at you. then she leans in and murmurs “relax, petal.” quiet and just for you.
you don’t relax, but you don’t pull away either.
then it was the variety interview.
you’re both seated across from a roundtable of hosts. she’s in a tailored white blazer with her hair down for once. the conversation trails from your projects into your “new life together.”
“you seem more in sync now. is it just practice?” one host says, half teasing.
“she knows me. it’s not practice, it’s routine.” karina replies easily, hand resting lightly on your thigh under the table. you think it’s just a reminder to behave.
you almost snap at her, until she slides her thumb in one slow circle over your knee.
you say nothing, letting her speak for both of you.
at some point, the edits go viral. there’s loads of fan compilations and screenshots. popular ones are the clips of the two of you holding hands on red carpets or sipping from the same glass at the afterparty. you’re drunk in that clip, dress hiked up slightly as you tip your glass of champagne to karina’s lips. she takes a sip without hesitation even though your lipstick is smudged onto the glass.
“do you guys even like each other?” a designer asks one night somewhere between events.
she smirks and speaks. “you’d be surprised.”
you don’t say anything. you’re still replaying the way her hand skimmed down your back when she zipped up your dress. there was no reason for her to touch you like that. there was a stylist.
but she did it anyway.
now, you’re exhausted. today’s shoot ran two hours over because the photographer was indecisive. apparently the lighting was wrong and your heels were five inches too tall. and most annoying of it all? karina’s perfume was clinging to your dress and they made you retouch your face six times.
when you return to the penthouse, it’s past midnight. you kick off your shoes so hard they hit the baseboard.
karina tosses her jacket onto the back of the couch with a sigh. “don’t throw things.”
“don’t act like you care.”
she pauses in front of the mirror, removing her earrings with the elegance of someone still being watched. “i don’t.”
“great. so stop telling me what to do.” you tug your hair free from its clip.
it’s silent for a moment before she talks again. “you looked okay.”
you scoff. “oh, good. yay! thanks for the approval, karina. must be so nice being you.” you head towards the living room, shedding your earrings with annoyance and tossing them onto the coffee table.
she turns to look at you, leaning against the island with crossed arms. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you know. you could walk onto a red carpet in a trash bag and still make the best dressed list.”
“you think this is easy?” she asks, voice dropping.
“i think you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter.”
“you don’t know shit about what i’ve had handed to me.”
you step closer towards the blonde. “oh, please. spare me the sob story. you’ve been the golden child since birth.”
“and you’ve been the mess everyone has to clean up after.”
that stops you.
it’s not the words, no. it’s the way she says it. like it’s been waiting on her tongue. it felt like she meant it.
your throat tightens. “wow.”
karina exhales, but she doesn’t take it back. she looks at you, tense and tired and so clearly not just angry at tonight.
“don’t act like you don’t know it. you show up late and roll your eyes in interviews. you literally can’t go one week without some crazy headline— and somehow i’m the one that’s fake? at least i show the hell up.”
your voice cracks before you can stop it. “don’t say that shit, karina. i do show up. i showed up when i didn’t want to. hell, i signed the same papers you did. i’ve been smiling through all of this shit while you just stand there looking sad and acting like i should be grateful to be in this with you.”
“you should be.”
your breath stops.
her eyes widen like she didn’t mean to say that, not like that, but it’s too late. you heard it.
you swallow. “fuck you.”
she looks at you like she’s stuck between wanting to fix it and wanting to say more.
you shake your head, throat burning and vision blurry for a second too long. “god, you’re—”
“what?” she snaps. “say it.”
“you don’t care about anyone but yourself. that’s why nobody actually likes you. they just want what you have. ” you say with a shaky voice.
her expression falters. you regret it the moment you say it, but you don’t take it back. neither of you do. not tonight.
she turns and walks down the hall.
you drop onto the couch and let the silence swallow you.
───────────────────────
the morning after, the apartment is still. the sun bleeds through the beige curtains, casting soft gold across the floor. you’re still in last night’s clothes, curled pathetically on the couch underneath a throw blanket that doesn’t even cover your legs.
you didn’t sleep much. at all, if that.
you hear her before you see her, footsteps leading into the kettle starting in the kitchen.
you stay on the couch, eyes half lidded while you fling an arm over your forehead. you can hear every little sound of movement, especially her phone buzzing on the counter.
then you hear her speak. you almost don’t register it until you realize that she’s not calling you. she’s on the phone.
“…she’s not like that.”
“no, she’s not. she’s difficult, yeah. but not— she’s not a mess.”
your stomach turns. her voice is low, but not cold. tired, maybe. it’s soft in a way that you’ve never heard when it’s directed at someone else.
“i know what people say about her, but it’s not true. she cares. she still tries when no one gives her credit for it.”
you can practically hear whoever’s on the other line doubting her.
“yeah, well. maybe i care. maybe that’s the fucking problem.”
your heart stutters and you shift slightly. the couch creaks.
fuck.
her breath catches in the kitchen.
she doesn’t say anything else. you hear the sound of her hanging up before she stands still for a long time. you stay where you are.
finally, she leaves the kitchen. her footsteps trail off toward the bedroom and the silence returns, leaving you alone with your racing heart and thoughts.
and that’s when you realize that something has already changed. you just don’t know what to do with it yet.
so you don’t bring it up.
not when she walks out of the bedroom hours later, dressed in a towel with her hair slicked back like she’s waiting for you to ask what you heard.
you don’t.
instead, you get up, allowing the day pass with minimal words exchanged. the silence between you is no longer hostile. it’s unfamiliar.
and when night falls, rain begins to as well. you’re both silent in bed again. there’s no pillow barrier this time, but your backs still face each other. you’re texting aeri.
you
you up?
we fought last night
like bad
she starts typing.
aeri 🧸
u two need to make out alr
wait til she begs tho
hollon ima call u
you let out a half silent laugh. it’s loud enough to make karina stir.
“you’re loud when you text.” she mumbles into her pillow.
“you’re annoying when you exist. stop being nosey.” you shoot back at the blonde out of habit, but there’s no threat behind it. it’s soft.
“hard to ignore when you keep sighing like someone broke your heart.”
you roll over. “bold of you to assume you didn’t.”
her head turns, eyes catching yours in the faint moonlight. the rain gets louder.
a long moment passes before she speaks. “i’m not sorry for what i said.”
“i’m not either.”
then there’s a longer silence. you can only hear the sound of rain pattering against the window.
“but i didn’t mean all of it.” she adds.
you fully turn towards her now. “which part?”
she doesn’t look away. “the mess part. i was mad, but that doesn’t mean i was right.”
“i didn’t mean what i said either.”
karina watches you with an unreadable expression. then she nods slowly, like that’s enough for now.
you both lay there for a while. she shifts closer, close enough that you can feel the warmth between you.
you want to reach for it.
“are you still mad at me?”
you stare at her. she’s been barefaced for hours, and her voice isn’t even trying to be indifferent. it’s oddly cautious. you realize that no one sees this side of her but you.
you shake your head. “no. i’m just tired.”
her shoulders slump as silence envelops you once more.
“you’re really pretty when you’re not talking.” she says, barely teasing.
you scoff, pushing her hand away. but you’re smiling and she sees it.
she shifts closer under the covers and her knee brushes yours.
you could blame the heat under the blankets, or maybe even the leftover adrenaline from the fight. but when your eyes flick to her lips, it’s none of that.
she leans in. so do you.
her hand grazes your jaw, noses brushing against eachother. both of your eyes flutter shut.
then— your phone vibrates. loudly.
you both freeze, foreheads touching.
aeri 🧸 is calling…
“seriously?” she breathes before flopping back with a quiet for fuck’s sake.
you stare at the ceiling, heart pounding.
“i wasn’t going to kiss you.” she says suddenly.
you hum, half bitter. “sure.”
“i wasn’t.” she repeats, but she doesn’t sound sure anymore. you don’t believe her.
you answer the call and karina stays next to you the whole time, one arm folded behind her head as she stares up at the ceiling too. but the difference is, she looks like she’s waiting. waiting for the next moment. the next time you look at her the way you just did.
you can’t stop thinking about how she might’ve done it if aeri waited another second. and how much you kind of, maybe, really wanted her to.
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THAT WAS THREE WEEKS AGO. you haven’t brought it up, and neither has she. which means you’ve been living in that silence where everything feels like it’s leading somewhere and neither of you are willing to admit it.
but the thing is, it changed everything. because nothing’s really happened since.
you haven’t gotten that close off camera again. not even close. she’s been soft ignoring you. you barely speak at events unless someone’s watching, but she still zips your dresses and straightens your necklaces like muscle memory.
and that brings you to now, the night before your official launch. you should be panicking. refreshing your notes. checking every tag on instagram. but instead, you’re at a ysl afterparty, buzzed off champagne and dressed to match karina.
she’s somewhere in the room in a structured black ysl suit. you’ve already taken the joint pictures for press.
so you decide to distract yourself. you’re standing near one of the tall glass walls, half lit by the glow of the city. it hits your face perfectly as you tell a chaotic story to a small circle of models and minor celebrities who are visibly enraptured by you.
“…and then i realized the room wasn’t even ours. we were in the wrong suite the entire time.”
laughter erupts, drinks clinking against eachother. you’re grinning with warm cheeks, tongue looser than usual.
you don’t notice the guy step a little closer until his voice cuts in low and playful. “you always cause this much of a scene?”
you look at him, a little thrown off. he’s tall and polished, the kind of man publicists love to pose you next to. his hand grazes yours when he takes your empty glass, setting it on the nearby table.
“only when it’s fun.” you say breezily, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.
“i feel like i should get a warning.” he says, tilting his head, and then he catches your hand. he lifts it and brings it to his lips with a kind of precision that makes your brows lift.
you let him. well. sort of.
he kisses your knuckles gently. you’re not even looking at him. you’re looking at karina in the reflection in the glass.
she’s across the room between two editors, nodding politely at whatever they’re saying. but her gaze is stuck on you. her lips ate pressed into a line that doesn’t match the outfit she’s wearing. then she starts walking.
“excuse me. she’s needed.” karina says smoothly, appearing at your side like she’s always belonged there.
“by who?” the guy says with a chuckle, clearly trying to keep the moment alive.
“by me.” she says quickly. her voice isn’t playful. it’s sharp enough to slice through the air between you.
her arm wraps around your waist then she pulls you away. you let her.
“you okay? you look a little tense.” you ask lightly the second you’re around the corner and near the exit.
she doesn’t answer, turning to face you.
you lean against the wall with a teasing smirk. “what? you jealous?”
karina’s eyes narrow. “no.”
“oh, come on. he was cute.” you continue.
“you’re not taking this seriously.”
your smile slips. “what?”
“this. us. you don’t take it seriously.” she says, gesturing between you.
you stare at her. “that’s funny. cause i’ve been showing up to every event. standing next to you and leaning into every touch like this is real.”
“it’s not just about events.”
“then what is it about, karina? because when the cameras go off, you vanish. you avoid me. don’t act like i’m the one faking it.”
“god, you don’t get it.”
“i don’t. i really don’t. because you never say anything. you just look. leave me. or pull me away like you own me.”
“what if i want to?”
you let out a breath.
karina steps closer and her voice drops. only you can hear it. “you’re not the only one confused by this. you think i haven’t wanted to kiss you since that night? i’ve been trying not to all night. but then you let him—”
“prove it.” you cut her off. “prove it then, karina.” you repeat breathlessly.
and then she leans in and kisses you. hard.
her hands cup your face, jaw tilting as her mouth meets yours like she’s been starving for this moment. your heart thuds in your ears as one hand snakes to your hip, thumb caressing it the same way it did in that photoshoot weeks ago.
you gasp against her mouth. she swallows it.
and then, just as suddenly, she breaks it. her eyes are wide when she steps back, mouth parted. she looks like she’s realizing something she can’t say out loud.
you don’t move. you just watch as she turns and walks off.
then you lean against the wall again, dizzy as you try to blink away the lightheaded feeling her lips left against yours.
she tastes like vanilla.
you fish your phone out of your bag, hand shaking.
you
aeri
karina just kissed me
you don’t even get to send a third message before aeri’s voice cuts through the air like she’s been waiting in the wings.
“oh my god, finally.”
you jump. “what— where did you come from?”
“i have ears. and i saw that. it was hot. but what the fuck took you two so long?”
you stare at her, searching for words. but your hands search for a glass. of anything. “she’s so— ugh.”
“she has a death wish, huh?” you say dramatically, eyes wide.
aeri laughs. “a fat crush. but go off.”
you throw a macaron at her. it bounces off her shoulder and lands somewhere under the couch, lost to the ysl afterparty dimension forever.
“i hate her so bad. she had to do that in a suit. with her hands on my—“ you groan, covering your face.
“say it. say ‘my waist.’” aeri says.
you screech into your hands.
“she kissed me like she meant it.”
“do you want her to do it again?”
“yes. and no. i wanna slap her.”
aeri nods, sipping from her own glass.
you groan. “this is your fault. you told me to wait til she begs. i was literally normal before i met you.”
“you’ve never been normal.” she says, patting your thigh. then she straightens suddenly, eyes lighting up.
“oh. my. god. that’s him. i have to go.”
“what?”
“that’s the actor from that french vampire show! he’s wearing the suit with the mesh undershirt. i have to go.”
“aeri—”
“drink water! look at his hair—“ she squeals, already walking away.
you’re left in a half lit corner, few drinks deep, dressed to match your fake wife who kissed you like you were her real one. and now you’re alone. again. you reach for another glass anyway.
───────────────────────
by the time your security appears at the exit with karina beside him, you’re definitely drunk. but you look good. like, really good.
and there’s definitely going to be a viral clip later of her hand wrapped around your waist as she guides you out the building in front of the flashing cameras. she holds you like you’re fragile. you smile like nothing’s wrong.
but karina sees everything. you stumble as you make it towards the entrance, fingers clinging to her jacket.
and she doesn’t say anything when the car door shuts and you slump back against the seat, barely holding yourself up.
her nails click against the screen as she opens her phone and sees it. the photo of your kiss. your first kiss.
it’s blurry and taken from a distance. but anyone can see how breathless you look as her hand cradles your jaw like it’s muscle memory.
the internet thinks it’s romantic. it starts trending immediately.
you’re still slouched against the seat, legs crossed and arms folded. you refuse to look at her. not after she kissed you like that and then walked off like it meant nothing.
you tell yourself it’s fine. that you’ve felt worse. but then she breathes and it’s like your whole body remembers.
karina sits beside you, perfectly fine in her suit. one hand rests against her thigh, the other one scrolling through her phone.
you can feel her looking through the photos. in your head, you know one of them is already trending.
“you’re going viral again.” she says coolly with the same lips that were on on yours twenty minutes ago.
“cool. add that to the list. ‘makes out with fake wife in public.’” you mutter. she doesn’t respond.
instead she leans back, exhaling like she’s already tired of this. as if dealing with you is exhausting. “you’re drunk.”
“wow, thanks for the update. next breaking story? you’re a coward.”
“you’re blowing it out of proportion.”
you scoff. “really? you kissed me like it meant something and then walked away like i had cooties.”
karina’s head turns slowly, exhaling. “cooties? y/n. god, you’re— such a problem.”
your eyes narrow. “then stop looking at me like you want to make it worse.”
she doesn’t answer. even though you want a verbal one, the way her jaw clenches is enough.
the car glides into the garage. and the second it stops, you’re out the door with your heels in hand. walking barefoot into the elevator like you’re on a mission. karina stares at them like she wants to take them for you.
you don’t wait for her. she still follows.
“you’re upset.”
“ding! next question.”
“because i kissed you?”
you spin on your heel. “because you always pull away, jimin.”
her name hangs between you. it’s the first time you’ve said it to her.
you can see her expression change.
“you always disappear. or worse, act like it didn’t happen. like i’m the one imagining shit.”
karina exhales. “we agreed not to make this complicated.”
“yeah? well guess what. you complicated it when you started looking at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like you felt something.”
her mouth opens then closes. then she backs you up without touching you until your spine hits the wall just outside of the bedroom.
“you think it’s easy for me? i told you i’ve wanted to kiss you since that night.”
“then do it again. if it mean nothing, do it again.” you glare. you’re not even sure if you’re making sense anymore.
her eyes drop down to your lips.
“you’re drunk.”
you shove past her. “like i said. coward.”
“spoiled brat.”
“you like it.”
“you wish.”
you get to the bedroom first. your fingers fumble with the zipper of your dress before you give up entirely.
karina walks in behind you.
you turn to face her, arms out. “you gonna help or keep staring like a creep?”
she crosses the room quietly, one hand lifting to the zipper. it slides down slowly, making your breath hitch.
your dress falls and then she turns, pulling the blanket back on the bed like she didn’t just undress you with her hands.
“bed.”
“make me.”
“you’re sleeping while standing up.”
“your fault.”
“you’re so annoying.”
“and you’re so obsessed with me that it’s embarrassing.”
karina looks at you and something in her expression falters. just for a second. then it’s gone.
she straightens up. “get in bed.”
you crawl in. she tucks the blanket over your legs. her fingers brush your bare thigh.
“you kiss everyone like that?” you ask.
“only the girls who drive me crazy.”
“mm. should’ve gone for him them.” you hum.
karina flexes her jaw. “i’m gonna sleep on the couch.”
“no you’re not.”
“you can’t stop me.”
“you kissed me first.”
“what does that have to do with anything?”
“nothing. everything.” you whisper. and then you both go quiet.
she stares at you for a moment. then she turns off the light. she stays beside you, but neither of you sleep for hours.
───────────────────────
“i feel like death.”
aeri doesn’t look up from her phone across from you, scrolling with her thumb. “but you look like a million dollars. and someone who’s about to have a phenomenal launch.”
“can you at least look at me when you compliment me? makes it feel authentic.” you roll your eyes.
she raises an eyebrow, giggling away at something, or someone on her phone.
“you are like papa.” you mutter once she completely ignores you.
“don’t compare me to your emotionally repressed wife.”
“fake wife.” you correct, stabbing your straw into the untouched iced coffee beside you.
“emphasis on fake. she kissed me like it was real and then left me painkillers on the nightstand like we’re married and going through a divorce.”
aeri just hums. it’s her way of saying you technically are without actually saying it.
“she didn’t even leave a note. not even a ‘good luck baby’ or something. don’t i deserve compensation for the way she tried to shove her tongue down my throat then disappeared?” you add, flopping dramatically against the back of the chair. your stylist audibly grumbles from behind you.
“maybe the pills were the note.”
you scoff. “aeri, be for real. he leaves me mints everyday. does that mean he’s in love with me too?”
you gesture to the man fixing your hair before crossing your arms.
“girl, i’m gay.” he says.
“but you treat me better than karina.”
“she’s gay too.” aeri deadpans.
you look at her. “okay? i’m just saying, being gay doesn’t make you a good person. or a good fake wife. stop defending her.”
your stylist muffles a laugh behind you.
“i’m not defending her.”
“you totally are. but it’s fine.” you sigh dramatically.
“you sound like you caught feelings.”
you glare at the pink haired girl before speaking. “what i better not catch is her walking in here like nothing happened.”
“and if she does?”
“you’re still defending her like she didn’t ghost me while we share a bed.”
“you mean the california king?”
“our shared bed.” you repeat, sipping your coffee.
aeri begins scrolling again. “i’m actually kind of obsessed with you two.”
you tap your nail against the cup. “i cursed her in my head. don’t get comfortable.”
“you’re so annoying.” aeri grins, but she sounds endeared.
you groan and glance at the time. twenty one minutes until your first collection walks down the runway. the final outfit you chose is hanging up, zipped and untouched. you haven’t even changed yet.
“i don’t even know if she’s coming. and i don’t know if i want her to.” you mutter.
“she’s in love with you. of course she’s coming.”
you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens. “maybe she’ll finally do something on brand for once.”
aeri raises a brow. “you mean something that’s oddly thoughtful?”
before you can respond, a knock echoes throughout the room from against the dressing room door.
“if that’s an interviewer, ignore them.” you say instantly.
your assistant makes eye contact with aeri then heads to the door anyway.
“don’t open it!” you repeat.
but it’s already creaking open. your stylist turns around.
“oh. it’s your wife.” she says in a surprised tone.
you whip your head around so fast your earring nearly flies off.
she’s calmly standing in the doorway, wearing a matching cream suit with stitching that looks suspiciously similar to the one you’re about to wear.
and then her eyes meet yours.
“you’re not dressed yet.”
“what happened to hello?” then you slowly look over her clothes. the realization hits you like a freight train. “you color matched our outfits?”
aeri looks between you two, silent.
karina fully steps into the room now. “yeah. you say it like i don’t watch you.”
aeri sighs dreamily.
you spin around to face her. “don’t encourage her.”
the blonde is already walking towards the hanger to unzip your piece. your stylist stares at her like he might kick her out. you kinda want him to.
“you came.” you say, quieter now.
karina doesn’t even hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”
“maybe because you ignored me like i was a bad tinder date.”
“you were asleep.”
“that’s never stopped you before.” you mutter.
her brows rise in an amused manner. “you want me to wake you up next time?”
“i want you to stop acting like everything’s fine when you literally mouth fucked me against a wall and then left before sunrise. why did you come?”
someone coughs awkwardly in the background. aeri stands and your stylist follows, ushering out the assistant with a look. the door closes gently behind them.
karina sighs and steps closer to you. “do you want to fight or do you want to get dressed?”
“why not both?” you lift your chin in defiance.
her fingers find the zipper on the hanging bag with a sigh.
“stop doing that. you kissed me first.”
“you kissed me back.”
“you left painkillers on my nightstand like we’re divorced.”
she turns to face you again, holding your outfit in one hand. “i was trying to be nice.”
“be meaner then.”
“you wouldn’t survive it.”
you try to come up with a comeback, but your brain stops functioning when she sets the hanger down and reaches for your waist instead.
her fingers skim your sides. “arms up.”
you hesitate.
“i’m not going to try anything.” she says, but her voice is smug.
“unless you ask.”
“i’d rather die.”
you raise your arms anyway.
she helps you out of your robe with a kind of gentleness that only makes you more feral inside. her touch is light but it lingers over your skin. it’s like she knows what she’s doing.
“stop looking at me like that.” you murmur.
“how?”
“like you’re about to kiss me again.”
she fastens the hooks at the back of your dress. her mouth is near your shoulder now.
“don’t tempt me.”
you glance at her through the mirror. she’s already looking at you with fascination in her eyes.
“tighten the corset a little.” you say.
“don’t tell me what to do.”
“karina.”
“i got it.”
she tightens it, knuckles brushing against your spine.
“we still have ten minutes.” she adds quietly.
you hold her gaze. “so?”
her hands pause at your back. “so… you still haven’t said thank you.”
you scoff. “for ignoring me?”
“no. i’m basically your unpaid assistant right now.”
“you’re basically my emotionally unavailable situationship.” you shoot back.
“you say that like i’m not here right now.”
you hate how your chest aches. “showing up isn’t the same as being there, karina.”
that leaves a silence between you two. her hand lingers at the small of your back, thumb pressing into the fabric.
you turn around to face her with a sigh. “you’re so full of yourself.”
“you’re dressed like my soulmate.”
“because you picked the outfit!”
“we were gonna end up matching anyway.”
your jaw tightens. she reaches around you again, taking a necklace into her hand.
“you look good. you’re beautiful.” she mutters.
“you didn’t answer me.” you say.
“about what?”
“why you came.”
karina’s fingers still and her voice softens.
“because you’re about to walk out there and show the world exactly what you’re capable of. and if i wasn’t here, it would be the dumbest decision of my life.” she says.
you look at her.
“that’s not saying much. you’ve made a lot of dumb decisions lately.” you mutter.
“you’re my favorite one.” she replies.
your lips part but nothing comes out.
then you swallow hard. “stop saying things like that.”
“why?” her voice is low. it feels like she’s not even trying to fight you anymore.
“because it feels like you mean them.”
her eyes flicker to your lips for just a second. “would it be easier if i didn’t?”
“yes. no. maybe. fuck.” you blink too many times.
she exhales like she’s been holding her breath this entire time. her fingers move to clasp the necklace around your neck with slow and gentle movements, and it feels like an apology.
you watch her in the mirror again. you hate her. her stupid, pretty blonde hair. the way her eyes soften when she looks at you. how her lips always look so kissable. you hate everything.
“please don’t tell me you came here to make it worse.” you say.
“i guess i sort of came too because i knew i already fucked it up.”
the clasp clicks into place. you spin to face her again. she’s too close.
“and what happens after this? when you leave again?” you ask, voice quiet.
“i won’t.” she says.
“don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“i’m not promising. i’m saying it. unless you don’t want me to stay.” she tilts her head.
you hate how bad you want her to. you hesitate long enough for her to notice.
“i hate you.” you mutter.
“i know. you’re pretty when you do.” she almost smiles.
you stare at her and she stares right back. it would be so easy to just close the distance.
but your name is called from the other side of the door. “five minutes!”
“fix my hair?” you ask just to be difficult. she rolls her eyes like she already knows that, but obediently steps behind you anyway.
then she steps back. her hand slides down your waist as she does, like she doesn’t wanna let you go.
“i’ll be front row. just like we planned.” she says.
“we didn’t plan anything.”
she gives you a look, smirking like it’s already been decided.
“we matched, didn’t we?” then she walks out.
“i’m gonna punch her later.” you murmur to your ancestors, looking over yourself in the mirror. you take a few deep breaths, hands ghosting across the pendant before perfecting your smile, clearing your throat, and walking out.
───────────────────────
flashes blind you the second you step outside.
your heels click against the pavement, seemingly louder than everyone else’s, because you’re kinda the main character right now.
your show just ended fifteen minutes ago and people are already calling it the collection of the season. cameras shout your name, karina’s too, but you don’t break stride.
she’s walking next to you, hand firm on your waist, practically glaring paparazzi out of the way as her other hand waves security forward. she’s muttering something about how some of them are getting sued tonight.
you’re just smiling.
once you reach the car, karina opens the door for you like a gentlewoman (even though security is right there?). “you take one more slow mo step for the cameras and i’m pushing you.” she grumbles.
you laugh as you slide in. “jealous they love me?”
she has to stop herself from saying “i love you.” so instead she climbs in beside you, door shutting just as your phone buzzes.
aeri 🧸
IM W THE HOT FRENCH ACTOR AYEEEEE 👅👅👅
he looked at you suspiciously tho…
BUT UR GAY AYEEEEE 👅👅👅👅
ur welcome for the emotional support this morning btw.
you
thank u 🥹
do i have to pay a fee for therapy
and don’t do anything i wouldn’t do
which is like
nothing
so go crazy ahhh
“texting your lawyer?” karina teases.
“texting aeri so she can help me sue you for emotional damage.” you say sweetly.
“gotta sue yourself first. you kissed me too.”
“don’t flatter yourself.”
she hums. “too late.”
you roll your eyes and glance out the window, city lights blurring past.
she doesn’t look at you right away. her palm rests on your knee, thumb brushing absentminded shapes against your skin.
“you were insane.” she says, quiet but sure.
“what?”
“the entire show. and that last model with the corseted jacket? your brain is perfect.” she says.
your throat tightens a little. “oh.”
then she finally looks at you. “you don’t believe me? you’re trending again.”
you shrug, eyes still on the window. “i just… haven’t heard you say anything like that in a while.”
her thumb pauses for a second before it resumes. “doesn’t mean i haven’t thought it.”
you glance over at her. she’s not teasing or smirking. you can see the devastating softness in her eyes as she watches you. it’s stupid.
you blink fast and look away again.
“you looked like you owned everything in that room. even the air.” she adds.
“and i still almost had a breakdown in the bathroom.”
“that’s the secret to your charm. you make everything look good.” she says like it’s obvious.
you huff a laugh, barely managing to hide how much that lands. “i hate you.”
“i know.”
your lips part again, useless. you have no words. she just keeps doing this. keeps showing up and saying things that make you believe she means them.
your phone buzzes again, thankfully pulling you from the tension.
aeri 🧸
he asked if we’re dating 😭😭😭
i said no but i think he’s suspicious
should i kiss him anyway???
AND pls eat something or i’ll be mad
you smile, thumbs moving quickly before she can peek.
you
kiss him
make out w him
and i’ll eat bread just for u
karina leans closer, peeking at the screen. “is that aeri? tell her to use protection.”
“the last person she needs advice from is you. you raw dog emotional damage.”
she grins. “you love it.”
you refuse to answer that.
outside the car window, more camera flashes burst like fireworks as the driver pulls up to the curb. your heart rate kicks up and karina’s hand doesn’t move from your knee. the car slows in front of the restaurant.
you hesitate. “you sure you’re ready for another round of this?”
“with you? everyday.” she shrugs.
the door opens. you step out first, letting your gaze flick to the crowd and then back at her. just briefly.
she smooths her suit and joins you, hand on your back.
the flashes keep going even after the door shuts behind you. her hand doesn’t move from your back as you walk into the venue, long marble corridor echoing beneath your heels. she nods politely at the host who leads you through the front.
your names are on the list. y/n jeon-yu & karina yu.
the room opens up with candlelit tables and a stupidly elegant floral centerpiece you know your mom picked. you spot her instantly, already waving excitedly like she hasn’t seen you in years.
your father looks unimpressed, but even he stands when you approach. karina’s hand only leaves your back once you’re pulling out your chair.
“darling! you were exceptional. absolutely amazing. it was art.” your mom gasps.
“and you. you looked like you were in love.” her eyes flick between you and karina.
you choke slightly on your water.
“she means with the clothes.” karina says smoothly, helping herself to a slice of bread.
“of course. but the chemistry? oh my god, girls. i’ve been getting messages. they think you’re soulmates.” your mom says. karina stifles a laugh. you can hear her going “that’s what i said” in her head.
you roll your eyes. “those people also think i’m secretly pregnant. somehow.”
“maybe you are. would explain all the mood swings.” karina mutters beside you.
you kick her under the table. she kicks you back.
“i’m just saying. now that you’re actually getting along, we should start planning the real ceremony.” your mom starts again, clutching her wine glass with too much force.
both you and karina speak up. “no.”
but you go “nooo…” while she goes “no, thank you.” with that ridiculous perfect politeness.
your dad sighs. “this again?”
across the table, karina’s mother appears mid sip of her cocktail and glares. “you think your daughter made my daughter less uptight? please. jimin’s the one carrying this pr disaster on her back.”
“oh, whatever. if anything, your daughter is lucky mine even agreed to go through with this—“ your mom snaps, lifting a brow.
“you act like she didn’t beg.”
you open your mouth but karina beats you to it. “okay. alright. that’s enough.”
the table goes awkwardly quiet. then she speaks up in a softer voice.
“this is her night. and she was incredible.” karina says.
your mom stares. her mom sets down her drink.
you glance at karina who’s already looking at you.
“we’re proud of you.” your dad says gruffly.
karina’s mom nods without looking at anyone. “she was very professional, i suppose.”
your throat gets tight again. karina leans closer.
“they’re annoying. but they’re right.” she whispers.
you almost smile. almost.
“wanna fake elope just to spite them?”
she shrugs. “tell me when and where.”
your mom gasps. “what was that?”
“nothing!” you both say in unison, grinning now.
karina’s hand brushes yours beneath the table. and for the first time in weeks, you let it stay there. you’ll probably fight again tomorrow. but right now, she’s here and she showed up.
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taglist @saysirhc @blissfulflw @yuyuy90
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thewriteadviceforwriters · 9 hours ago
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Romantasy Book Tropes Ranked By How Easy They Are to Make Interesting Again
okay so hear me out: i love romantasy. i am romantasy. but also? a lot of the tropes feel like they've been in a blender set to “medium aesthetic” and we all just nod and go “yes this is fine” while our souls leave our bodies.
so i ranked some of the top romantasy tropes by how EASILY they can be made good again, not which ones are the best, not which ones are ✨dead✨, but which ones are like, 2 rewrites away from being god-tier if you’re willing to do violence to them.
⚠️ this list is subjective. take it up with your protagonist’s tragic backstory.
🥇 1. The Cursed Prince / Beast / Exiled Royalty Difficulty: ★☆☆☆☆ Listen. This one is so easy to make interesting again it’s embarrassing when it’s bad. Just add one (1) real consequence. Is he cursed? Cool. Show me how that curse is actively wrecking his life. Exiled? Give me the betrayal scene in detail. Raised by wolves? Show me him eating raw meat like a weirdo. Don’t just make him Hot and Sad. Make him feral and complicated. Bonus points if he doesn’t want to be uncursed. Bonus bonus if the heroine agrees.
🥈 2. The Marriage Trial / Forced Proximity Setup Difficulty: ★★☆☆☆ You can spin this SO MANY WAYS. Make the trial political. Make the contestants unhinged. Make it morally messed up. It stops being boring the moment you stop writing it like a CW love triangle and start writing it like a dark social game. ex: Squid Game but hot. Don’t just have them accidentally touch hands. Have them make alliances and betray each other in the hallway at 3am. Be weird with it.
🥉 3. The Warrior Girl Who Has Never Known Love Difficulty: ★★☆☆☆ The trick is: don’t make her secretly soft. Make her correct. Love should feel like a threat to her survival, not a makeover montage. She doesn’t need to be taught softness, she needs to be loved as is. Give her a love interest who isn’t trying to “fix” her but sees her sharp edges and says “yeah that’ll do.” Instant slay.
👀 4. Enemies to Lovers Difficulty: ★★★☆☆ Controversial take but: most of you are doing rivals to lovers. Or “mild professional disagreement” to lovers. True enemies to lovers is hard because it requires two people to want to ruin each other, and then have to live with that. There needs to be blood on the floor. There needs to be regret. It’s not banter if they wouldn’t kill each other in Act 1. Go full feral or go home.
🔮 5. The Chosen One and the Dark Mentor Difficulty: ★★★★☆ this one is delicious BUT. the power imbalance. the age gap. the moral greyness. the betrayal baked into the bones. it needs to be handled with scary levels of intention. when it’s done right? peak feral epic gothic. when it’s not? feels like a Wattpad fic from 2012 where the teacher falls for the new girl in detention. tread wisely.
🪦 6. The Mysterious Assassin Love Interest Difficulty: ★★★★★ okay. i’m tired. i’ve seen this man too many times. he’s got a dark past, two daggers, and no personality. he exists only to appear at the edge of a ballroom and go “you shouldn’t be here.” if you want to make him interesting again, you need to get into his actual psyche. give him weird rituals. make him bad at normal things. give him a reason he’s choosing murder over healing. or better yet, retire him for a few years. we’ve earned a break.
💌 agree? disagree? reblog with YOUR favorite romantasy trope and how you’d resurrect it from the cliché graveyard. 🪦✨
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isufferfromyd · 16 hours ago
Text
To the two goobers that followed me, here's a lil sneak peak at the next chapter:3
Mira settles on one side of the couch, Zoey right next to her. Rumi picks the other side of the couch. Zoey shoots her a look, eyebrow raised. Rumi offers a shrug in return and turns to the TV.
(She’s weirded out. Why are you acting strange? You’re making things awkward.)
Popcorn is passed around with casual touches that set Rumi’s skin on fire until the bowl is set in Zoey’s lap.
The blanket draped over her knees turns into armour, but it does nothing to stop the heat that crawls across her chest when Zoey leans in to say, “told you we’d pick a good one.”
Rumi smiles, too tightly. Something claws at the inside of her chest, scraping against her ribs, lighting her skin on fire. She doesn’t need to look down to know her skin is betraying her. But she is quick enough to drape the blanket over herself, hide and stifle the desire that’s pulling and pushing on her insides.
(She can tell something’s wrong.)
(You’re wrong. You’ve always been wrong.)
It’s been weeks. Maybe a month. Maybe over a month, Rumi can’t tell the way work makes time blend together. Every time they touch her, fleeting and innocent and oftentimes unintentional as it is, it leaves her starved. She wants more. Needs more. But Rumi can’t ask for it and she doesn’t have it in her to initiate it.
Still, that desire persists, unwavering.
Rumi bites the inside of her cheek and stretches her legs, lets the tops of her feet nudge against Zoey’s thigh, hoping it reads as normal. As harmless. Zoey’s eyes catch hers for a second. Just long enough. A smile flickers there, soft and unreadable. Rumi’s pulse stutters, and both of their attentions are back on the movie.
Rumi allows the film to comfort her. To be enveloped in the familiar security of it. The warmth it brings and the laughs it still pulls from her, even if she knows it by heart. It’s comforting. Zoey and Mira chuckle beside her. Zoey pokes fun at how obvious the foreshadowing in the music is, Rumi argues general audiences don’t notice anyway. Mira rolls her eyes when the romantic lead says she’s in love and Rumi has to chuckle at the exaggerated groan Mira gives.
But then she catches Mira and Zoey exchange a look, something soft and secrete and knowing and her heart stutters once more.
Something warm blooms in her chest at the way they only seem to have eyes for each other for that fleeting moment. And at the same time, something hot and sharp settles in her stomach.
(You’re not wanted.)
She untucks her feet from under Zoey.
(They’re making space for you and you can’t even appreciate it.)
Rumi shuffles more into the cushions of the couch.
(They are better off without you.)
That, catches her attention. That makes her hear the voice as not her own. Or at least, not fully, her own. She’s had that thought before. It started off as a whisper of a whisper, years ago. At times it grew louder, other times it was overpowered by the love and support of her friends. Her family. The last time she’d heard it this clearly, she offered her sword to Celine.
The coldness of it makes her shiver.
“You okay?” Zoey whispers off to the side.
Rumi blinks, “hm?”
Zoey nods at the screen. The credits are rolling.
Oh.
She must have zoned out. “You’ve been starting off,” she whispers again. Rumi’s brows knit together at the quiet tone of Zoey’s voice. She finds her gaze drifting off to the other girl at Zoey’s side. Mira’s asleep. One arm curled around Zoey’s middle, her face slack, peaceful. Glasses folded and set aside on the arm of the couch. One leg tossed lazily across Zoey’s. The kind of comfort that comes from years of knowing each other’s weight.
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garden-h0bbit · 1 day ago
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fireman’s appreciation night
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:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
Pairing: fireman!Steve Rogers x female!reader
Word count: 3.8k
Summary: After your ex cheated on you, you fell into a slump. Determined to help you out Natasha and Wanda take you to the Fireman’s Appreciation Night at the club you regular, hoping to lift your spirits.
Warnings: Mild swearing, cheating, smut, dom-ish Steve Rogers, fireman!Steve Rogers, unprotected piv, oral sex - f receiving, clothed sex for like a sec, fingering, creampie, slight dirty talk, nipple play, hair pulling - m receiving
Masterlist:
Not Proofread!! Please let me know if you find any mistakes <3
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
It has been 2 months, 4 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes since your life fell apart. Not that you were counting or anything…
That was the day you found your fiancee in bed with his coworker. Not just any bed but your bed, the one you slept in every night, the one you paid for!
You and your fiancee had been together for nearly six years and after witnessing your fiancee cheating on you it all made sense why he took nearly 5 years to propose. He didn’t want to commit he just wanted all the benefits that came with having a girlfriend. You weren’t given a ring out of love, no you were given a shut up-ring.
You aren’t even sure why you stayed with him. He was a total slob and didn’t work a day in his life, a total mommy’s boy. He took refugee in your apartment after he got kicked out of his for not paying rent.
So everyday you came home to a messy apartment and him playing video games and expecting you to make dinner for him.
You always did so without complaint because you loved him and he loved you, or so you thought.
After much nagging you finally got him to apply for a job by telling him you needed money for the wedding. That’s where he met Janet, irritating and bitchy Janet.
She always called your boyfriend at the worst times possible, Saturday mornings, week nights when you two were cuddling even occasionally at three am just to ‘hear his voice or ask him a work question.’
You should’ve suspected something was up when he answered the calls without a second thought and pushed you away like you were nothing. But you didn’t.
Then he started coming home late, always gushing about something Janet said. He also started referring to her as his ‘work wife’ claiming it was a totally normal thing to do and that all his colleagues had their own work wives.
Then one day, the day of your 6 years anniversary, you informed your boyfriend you were coming home late. You had a big surprise planned but the moment you stepped into the apartment you could only hear loud and obnoxious moaning. Moans that were obviously fake since your boyfriend wasn’t even that great in bed. Most of the time he came early and left you to take matters into your own hands.
After you found Janet and your boyfriend together in bed a lot of horrible things were said. You kicked him out right then and there, dumping some of his things outside your door and slamming it closed, leaving your boyfriend and Janet clothed only in pieces of their clothes.
Once the door slammed shut in their faces your resolve crumbled, gone was the anger, the stone-cold face. It was replaced with something raw, something you didn’t want to feel. You were hurt, in more ways than one. Gone were 6 years of your life, wasted on a garbage boy.
You tried to act like it didn’t matter, that you were fine but you weren’t. You sunk to the ground, back against the door and bawled your eyes out for hours on end. You couldn’t bear to think of him.
While you were in such a frazzled state you called the only person you knew could help you, Natasha. You and her met in college, while she intimidated you at first you both became fast friends. She also introduced you to her roommate Wanda, a redhead with a knack for knowing exactly how you felt even when you yourself were unsure.
Throughout your break up they were your rocks. The moment the found out they insisted that you come stay with them for a while, just to get away from all the things in your apartment that reminded you of him.
They took care of you like two mother hens, they made you food and coddled you. They forced you take some time off of work and to really just heal.
That however ended up in you getting fired since your manager was an asshole. This forced you to sell your apartment and permanently move in with them. All of these things just made you sink into your slump even more, you refused to eat, you refused to talk you only watched horrible comedies and slept the day away.
Natasha and Wanda knew they had to get you out of your slump and back on your own two feet, but they weren’t sure how.
Then the perfect opportunity arose, fireman’s appreciation night at the club they regulared. What better way to make you forget about your ex than a hot fireman?
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
It was still early morning, Natasha was probably out on her run and you could hear the occasional clang of pots and pans, meaning that Wanda was preparing breakfast, not to mention that you could also smell the wonderful aromas of food.
You were still in bed, lounging in your pyjamas that were most definitely filthy but you didn’t see the point in washing them or getting out of bed for that matter.
You were mindlessly scrolling through your ex’s Instagram when a post caught your eye. Your ex, Janet and a huge diamond ring.
They were engaged?!
Already?!
It had only been two months since the breakup!
How long was that asshole cheating on you for?!
Before you could spiral even more the front door slamming shut caught your attention, you heard scurrying near the door and assumed it was Natasha returning from her morning jog.
Your suspicion was confirmed when Natasha, without knocking, entered your room in her jogging clothes.
She was a bit out of breath but still gave you her best, ‘I have a horrible idea and we have to do it’ smile.
“Okay, up we go you lazy ass. We got things to do, people to meet.” She says in a voice way too loud for this early in the morning.
You could barely even process her words before she’s pulling your covers off of you and ripping your phone from your hand. You grumble in annoyance as you try grabbing the blanket from her hands but she only tuts.
“Nope, you’re getting up, we have much to do,” she says with a mischievous little smirk.
“Like what exactly?” You groan as you plop your face into your pillow, and before you know it she’s dragging you out of your bed by your feet.
“It’s fireman appreciation night tonight at that club we always go to,” you could only frown at her words, “And?” You asked skeptically.
“Aaand~ we are going to show some hot firemen how much the women of New York City appreciate them!” She said in a devious voice.
You groan as she now fully pulled your off of the bed, forcing you to get up, “That’s ridiculous!” You try to argue but she cuts you off, “Not taking no for an answer babes, now come down and eat some breakfast.”
The rest of the morning was spent on silly things like showering, and shaving everywhere like Nat instructed and things like finally washing your hair again and brushing your teeth.
You had to admit, you finally felt human again since the breakup.
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
The club was packed, filled to the brim with firemen in their uniforms and many other club goers that were clearly eager to show off their appreciation for the fireman. The music was loud and lights were flashing.
As soon as you stepped inside Wanda forced you three to go get a couple of shots. 3 Rounds of shots later the two redheads decided they wanted to go dance.
“C’mon, you gremlin, just have some fun, dance a bit!” Wanda yelled over the music and took your hand to try and drag you onto the dance floor. “No thanks, I’m just going to get another drink,” you yelled back and she shrugged.
The bar was packed with people doing shots and frazzled bartenders as they tried to keep up with the orders. Sitting down at the far end of the bar, flipping through the menu and eyeing their signature cocktails.
While flipping aimlessly through the menu, trying to waste some time you hear the barstool next to you being pulled out and you feel a large presence sit beside you, not only that but you could smell their after shave and a hint of smoke.
“What are you getting tonight, sweetheart?” You hear the stranger next to you ask, his voice was deep but kind. Rolling your eyes you turn to tell the man to leave you alone but that thought goes straight out the window as you lock eyes with the man beside you.
His eyes were a sharp intense blue, his blond hair was nearly trimmed, his face was chiseled and clean shaven. His lips were curled in a kind smile.
You don’t even remember to answer his question until he asks again, leaving you embarrassed for staring so long.
You clear your throat, “Just a cocktail or something,” you explained, you could see him smile and nod, and as he called over the bartender you took another second to stare at him.
He was clad in his fireman uniform, and on his uniform there was a captain’s insignia, “Captain, huh?” You asked, making him turn to look at you after ordering your drinks and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m the captain of my team, they’re a strong bunch.” He said with a fond tone.
“So what’s your name Captain?” You ask mischievously, “Oh! Ehm, apologies how rude of me, Steve Rogers. You are?” While you give him your name your drinks are handed to you and you mutter a thanks to Steve.
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
You and Steve continued chatting for a while, exchanging silly stories and the occasional flirtatious remarks. You both were tipsy by now, giggling like children about anything and everything.
“So cap, tell me, what made you decide to become a fireman.” Your words come out slightly slurred but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he rolled his eyes “Told you not to call me that, sweetheart. But- ” he said sobering up just a tad
“I always knew I wanted to help people, I used to be tiny you know, a scrawny kid that could be blown over by a fan.” You snort at that and eye his biceps, running a hand over one, “You? Tiny? Yeah right,” you say incredulously.
Steve could only laugh at your disbelief, “No really I was! I swear, wait look here.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll, then after some time he showed you a picture of a much younger and smaller Steve.
You cooed, “Aw, you were so cute! How old were you?” Steve cleared his throat, “Seventeen.” you paused and looked back at the photo and then at him, “Damn.”
Steve laughed, “Yeah… I uh, tried becoming a Marine when I graduated high school, they said I was too skinny. So I started you know working out and stuff and a growth spurt hit, decided screw the Marines I want to do something else and uh, then my friend told me about this job and I took it.”
“Guess the Marines are pretty pissed now.” You quip and he laughed pulling you closer into his side.
You both stay like that, and from this angle you could feel just how strong and defined his body was.
“So how about you tell me something, since I just spilled my life’s story to you.” You nod at his suggestion, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone tonight, no boyfriend or nothing.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that, “Not alone actually, my friends are over there,” you point to the two redheads who were currently dancing to their hearts content with any fireman they could find.
Steve laughed as he saw them, “Hey! That’s one of my friends!” He let out a whistle “Nice going Sam!” He yelled and a fireman that was busy dancing with Natasha looks up and gives him a smile.
“And as for the boyfriend part, my ex and I broke up a few months to ago. So my friends suggested coming here tonight,” you shrug solemnly as you’re reminded of your ex.
“What kind of an asshole would dump someone as great as you?” Steve asked with a surprised yet disapproving tone. You shrug, “My ex I guess. Found him in my bed with one of his coworkers.” Steve made a disgusted sound at that, and you let out a sigh.
Steve being attentive as ever noticed your mood souring and immediately changed the topic. “So why aren’t you dancing?” He questioned you, “I could ask you the same thing Captain,” you tease him.
He shrugged, downed his drink and gave you a grin, “S’cause I’m having too much fun talking to a pretty girl like you.” You could feel the flush creeping up but you rolled your eyes and laughed.
As the night grew on people were starting to leave the club, the music got softer the lights weren’t going crazy anymore and you and Steve? Well you two were beyond tipsy and very clearly eye-fucking each other.
Once Steve suggested going back to his place you both immediately got up and left. The walk to his place was filled with soft giggles and both of you tripping over your own feet.
You couldn’t stop touching each other. You both had to be touching at all times, whilst you whisper flirtatious remarks into each others ears.
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
As Steve fumbled with his keys to his apartment you were hanging on his arm, kissing his neck and giggling while he struggled. As soon as Steve successfully unlocked the door and you stepped inside Steve pressed you against the wall.
His hands found refugee on your hips and he pressed his chest against yours so you could feel his ragged breathing. “Aren’t you just too damn pretty.” His eyes were blown wide with lust and adoration, and his cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure if that was because of you or the alcohol though.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands playing with the tufts of blond hair at the nape of his neck. “You gon’ let me show you how a real man treats a woman?” You could merely nod in your lust filled haze.
“Uh-uh, sweetheart,” he tuts, “I need words honey,” he said as he cupped your face with his one hand, tilting your face up to make you look at him. “Yes, Steve,” you breathlessly reply.
Without a second thought he captures your lips with his, his lips melt against yours. The kiss is by no means perfect, you are both drunk and high off each other, your teeth clash and his hand on your hips pulls you impossibly closer.
You weave a hand through his hair, tugging lightly as he let out a muffled groan into your mouth. He pulled away to leave kisses down the side of your neck, sucking at certain spots that made you let out little whines.
While he was kissing your neck you could feel his hands trail towards your things, he pulled away slightly, “Jump.” And you did as you were told, he lifted you with ease, but that wasn’t surprising considering he had fireman strength.
He moved his mouth back to yours and he manoeuvred around his apartment until he entered a room you assumed was his bedroom. You assumptions were confirmed once you were softly placed onto his bed like you were a piece of fine china.
He moved away from you and took in your disheveled form, he let out a groan, “Look at you sweetheart, so pretty. Your ex was a fuckin’ idiot.”
He moved closer and softly cupped your face, he kissed you again, his hands moving down towards the straps of your dress. “Can I remove this?” You wordlessly nodded as he quickly removed the straps from your shoulders and pushed your dress down towards your waist.
He took in you form, his hands moving to your bra and you once again nodded in approval, his hands lifted you up and unclasped your bra. Once your bra was removed he stared at your chest in awe.
He took you waist in his hands and lowered his face to your neck, gently kissing you there. He left kisses and marks down your neck and towards your chest. He started massaging your one breast and he kissed the other one. After a few seconds he moved licking and biting your one nipple and pinching the other one between his fingers. You let out soft whines and he finally pulled away.
His pupils were blown wide with lust as he sank to his knees, he quickly removed the rest of your dress until you only remained in the only nice pair of underwear you owned. You were so thankful that Natasha forced you to shave everywhere. You had to remember to thank her and Wanda for forcing you to go out tonight.
Steve ran a finger over your clothed cunt, smiling when he noticed the small wet patch on your underwear. He leaned closer, leaving soft kisses on your inner thigh and inching closer towards the part where you needed it the most. His hands gripped your thighs and kneaded the soft flesh as you let out soft mewls.
“Steve! C’mom just touch me already,” you pathetically whined and he answered by pushing your underwear to the side and licking a stripe over your cunt. You whined and you instinctively tried closing your thighs around his head but his hands held them open.
He licked a few stripes over you, before pulling back “Look at her, she’s so pretty sweetheart.” Before you could complain about the loss of stimulation, he removed your underwear and dove straight into your hole with his tongue. “She tastes good too,” he groaned, his words muffled as he ate you out like a starved man.
He quickly started thrusting his tongue in and out of you while his thumb started playing with your clit, rubbing soft circles over it as you let out pathetic little whines and whimpers.
At one point you could feel the pleasure gradually increasing as Steve expertly ate you out like a starved man, your body was tense and Steve could feel your approaching orgasm coming but right before the pleasure could take over he pulled away, leaving you aching and confused.
Through teary eyes you looked at him, “Why?” You asked dumbly, he could only chuckle at your face. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good right now.” He rubbed a loving hand over your waist.
He now stands and quickly starts removing his fireman vest, leaving him in a way too tight t-shirt that really defined his muscles. He quickly shed that too leaving his top half now naked. You couldn’t help but gawk at him, he was incredibly fit and he had a blondish happy trail that deliciously disappeared beneath his trousers.
Steve couldn’t help but smirk as he saw you shamelessly checking him out. “Like what you see?” You nodded, “You know…” you drawl out and sit up to trail a hand over his abs, “Tonight was fireman appreciation night, and I think I should thank you for your service on behalf of all women. You know, show how much we appreciate you firemen.”
Steve let out a chuckle and grabbed hold of your hand, stopping it from trailing downwards towards his dick, which was now bulging against his trousers. “As tempting as that offer is, I’m gonna have to decline sweetheart. We can do that at a later time, right now I need to be burried in your sweet pussy.”
He pushes you to lay back down and removes his pants and his boxers and to say that Steve Rogers was insanely attractive was an understatement. His dick was to die for, perfectly long, perfectly thick with a nice mushroom tip.
Wordlessly he rubbed his tip up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. He slowly pushed his tip inside you, groaning at the feel of you and you let out a little mewl.
He slowly thrust in and out, careful not to hurt you. He captured your lips with his and you trailed your hands over his abs, moaning as he gripped your hips.
He moved his lips to your jaw, kissing your jaw and biting your ear as he started thrusting in deeper. It felt like heaven and you let out many little moans. “Let me hear you honey,” he encouraged as you took him deeper. His one hand moved to toy with your nipple whilst the other started it’s ministrations on your clot again.
“Harder,” you moaned as Steve was still thrusting in and out cautiously, at that he he started thrusting harder and faster until you both were moaning messes. Your hands gripped his hair and and clawed down his back leaving angry red streaks down his back.
While you were doing that he was messily kissing all over your body, kneading your breast and stimulating your clit. You could feel the pleasure building up, and so could Steve as you were squeezing his dick tightly, his thrusts were starting to get sloppy and he tried giving a few more harsh thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that finally made the coil snap and had you seeing stars and moaning his name like a mantra.
Steve gave a few more sloppy thrusts as you squeezed him, “Inside! Please!” You begged, “I’m on the pill!” That was all the encouragement he needed before he finally came inside you, you could feel ropes of white hot cum spurting inside you and you squeezed him tight to milk every he got out of him.
“Fuck sweetheart.” He groaned as he pulled out, without another word he left you panting and sprawled out on his bed.
After a few minutes he returned with a wash cloth and some clean clothes for you. He wordlessly cleaned you up and helped you get dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.
“There we go, honey,” he whispered, then moved on to get cleaned up and dress himself.
After getting dressed he climbed into bed beside you, tugging the covers over both of you and pulling you close. He left a trail of soft kisses on your neck.
His apartment was quiet and dark and you could only hear the occasional drone of a car passing by. “So next time I get to show you how much I appreciate firemen?” You whisper teasingly and you could feel him smirk against your skin, “Yeah, next time, but for now you need to get some rest.” He kisses your shoulder again, “Night, sweet.” He whispers as he softly rubs circles into your thigh.
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
It was official, no man would ever compare to Steve Rogers. Your ex was now just a silly after thought, someone you couldn’t believe kept you satisfied for six years. Because one night with Steve Rogers trampled on all the times you had been with any other man before.
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚
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chezzywezzy · 2 days ago
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Yandere Joshua Washington (3/?)
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WC: 3.5k
“No, R…” Josh sighed. There was a strange look in his eyes. Almost… happiness. Has he truly been so starved of human connection? “You never deserved this either. I fucking hate them. All of them. I fucking guess I always will, honestly. But you should’ve never had that happen to you. I’m sorry you have to live with that. If it’s any consolation - it - it… It fucking isn’t even my sisters being dead that makes me hate them. It’s the fucking aftermath, how they acted, how I acted, how everything happened. How I acted was fucked, R. Honestly, I'm not even better than them, either!
“I mean, you were right. I was fucking suffocating. I was selfish and I never even thought about you. I only thought about me, and how angry I was, and how much I needed you, and… Fuck. I should’ve been there for you, or listened. I guess I regret drinking too much, but I regret putting all the pressure on you to fucking… fix me. But… I’m going to fix it myself. You’re right. I’m the only one who can, so… I guess what I mean to say is that… this trip is gonna fix everything. I… I promise.”
R gulped and broke eye contact. Her heart was drumming across her entire body. In that moment, it was hard to interpret his words beyond face value. It was strange to her, because it seemed that his eyes were darker, angrier, more desperate than before, ever since she’d gotten here. But his words reflected a world of change.
“Joshie… you don’t have to ‘fix’ yourself alone. You’re not someone who needs fixing,” she comforted, sending a smile. “You just need healing and support. And I’m sorry, too, because I was not kind to you, either. We’ve both done things wrong, but neither of us to blame, I think. I wish… I could’ve been there for you better.”
“Do… do you think we would still be together if I, like, grieved differently?”
R blinked in surprise, the mood shifting. Suddenly, Josh’s eyes weren’t so wide, instead half-lidded and eager with hope. His throat bowed as he gulped, and his grip on her hips were slowly drifting higher and dancing against her arms.
Ben’s face flashed in her mind and she leaned against the marble counter, attempting to create distance. Her hands pushed gently against his chest as she chuckled dryly. “It’s not… good to speculate, Josh. I think it’s nice that we’re such good friends.”
A frown threatened to show but his head suddenly craned to meet her’s. She felt the distance between their faces - it was nothing more than mere inches, and it frightened her. R knew that it was never attraction she felt to Josh anymore; it was guilt, concern, and the love that she’d have for a friend. Besides… she had Ben.
“Yeah, I guess so, so… uh, do you think there’s a world where we —“
“No, Josh. I mean, I guess I can’t know, but this isn’t something to talk about right now. Seriously, give me some space.”
“Please, R, if he wasn’t around, would there ever be a chance?”
She frowned and wanted to shake her head, fingers applying pressure against his chest. But before she could vocalize, Josh had shut his eyes and closed the distance. After two years, his chapped lips felt foreign against her’s. Unnatural, even. R’s gasp gurgled in her throat as she felt his hands weave into her hair and his body pressed against her own. In that moment, R had frozen from shock.
The kiss had lasted but a moment before Josh fully stepped away. His brows were furrowed, but he was breathless. He gripped at his t-shirt. R couldn’t even muster a glare as she watched the man mutter an insincere apology and disappear from sight.
R was left stunned for several minutes, replaying the conversation in her head. It’s been two years, but the man still felt that way? He’d played his cards right - but R could not even call him manipulative when all his words seemed truthful. Perhaps it was a fluke - a mistake. Nothing more than a mere reflection of the past.
Either way, R did not want to be left in the unknown any longer. She felt somewhat tipsy from the wine she downed. And with one more quick swig, she ventured upstairs. Her movements were quick, stumbling, and thoughtless as she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an additional sweater and grabbed her cell phone.
She wanted to call Ben, even as a small snow storm had begun outside; one that wasn’t nearly as harsh as that night, but somewhat aggravating nonetheless. She couldn’t help but wonder why Jessica and Mike weren’t around yet, even though hours had passed. And why Sam had vanished off the planet. And why Matt and Emily still weren’t back from town.
R began tramping downstairs toward the front entrance. The entire lodge was eerily silent. 
And then, darkness. The dim lighting faded and R was left to adjust to the pitch black. Not even moonlight escaped through the windows.
It was uneasy for R as she called out a hello and asked if Josh was there. However, she wished she’d been met with silence, because instead, a muffled cry for help escaped the floorboards beneath her.
R was quick to cover her mouth. That sounded like… Josh. Suddenly, her blood ran cold. Something strange had been happening ever since she’d arrive, and it started with Ben. Had someone broken in? Was there an attacker?
She immediately ran to the kitchen and threw open drawers, using nothing but her dim phone flashlight. R was nothing short of surprised by the fact that every knife had disappeared. Even the forks, too. So, instead, she grabbed the wok off the hanging rack and clutched it firmly in one hand.
It felt stupid to admit, but she was stuck. Somebody had orchestrated… something. All she could do was hide or investigate. Without electricity, which stemmed exclusively from the ski lift, everyone was trapped here and could not call for help. It felt like the work of more than one person - someone cut the power while the other infiltrates. 
Right?
R slowly approached the basement stairs. Every step was methodical and slow. A single creak would reveal her location above. As she stood on the other side of the door, she gulped. Perhaps whoever was inside was already waiting on the other side of the door. She primed the wok in her hand and shut off the flashlight.
She’d been here before. Strangers would not know the layout as easily, right?
As she swung the door open, she swung the wok. But it hit nothing but air. And as she gazed down into the overwhelming darkness, it did not stir. Nobody was waiting to ambush her. Yet.
Some light from the doorway followed her as she descended. Every time a step creaked, she flinched. But what scared her further was the utter silence. It was almost as though it had been to draw her there and nothing else.
As she made it to the bottom and stepped onto the cold cement as the basement lacked any heating, she shivered. R stared into the darkness beyond. The basement had always been large - so large she’d never explored it.
Creak.
R swerved and peered at the top of the stairs. Standing in the doorway as the door was slowly pulled shut behind them was a dark figure. They wore several layers of black winter clothing, a jean jacket, and heavy boots. But was most concerning was the gleaming white mask covering their face and the machete gripped in their hands.
A frightened gasp escaped her lungs and darkness consumed her vision when the door shut. The figures’s boots thudded seamlessly down the stairs.
He either knew the layout or…
R was frozen in that moment. It took effort to unfreeze herself. She broke free when the figure was but a few feet away. R swerved and dashed down the hallway. Her arms followed the lining of the walls before making a right. As she grasped the side and made an immediate swerve, her knee collided with a small cardboard box and her body splayed on the ground. Her ankle throbbed, caught in the contents of the box. A weak scream whispered from her lungs - no-one but her could hear it. It was as though her fear reaction was the freeze in the moment, just like before. There was no fight or flight - only… this weakness.
She clawed back up to her feet and made sure to hold onto the wok tightly. However, when her eyes adjusted and she came to a slow, R realized she was in a dead end. There was nothing but a small side-room for expensive wines or shelves that held various holiday decorations. Nonetheless, she entered the wine room and pressed herself next to the doorway.
Her heartbeat clamored in her eardrums and it took focus as she strained with the wok at the ready. The footsteps were consistent and calculated; almost reluctant, even. And then, they halted just before the doorway. R felt her body shrink and tremble. Her eyes were wide and despite how she shivered, beads of sweat rolled down every part of her body. Her eyes felt dry while waiting for the figure to enter.
And then, they did. The mask was the first thing she could identify. Realizing a painful shriek, she swung the wok at the mask. The figure seemed caught off guard and stumbled back. The machete swung out and scraped the wok, sending it to the ground. R immediately reached for a wine bottle on the shelf next to her. The figure recovered quickly, although the groan that escaped him almost sounded filtered. R immediately threw the bottle, and the man was barely capable of blocking it with the machete. The glass shards and liquid shattered everywhere.
The man stumbled into the room, holding the machete as a makeshift shield. R did not remove her eyes from the figure as she pressed herself against the wall of bottles. She grabbed two at once, waving them in front of her.
“S - stay back,” she whimpered.
The man froze momentarily before a low, sadistic chuckle broke through and the head tilted to the side. Gloved hands angled the machete in a strange way; almost as though it was the handle he was attempting to attack her with. 
A moment frozen in place occurred and R was only aware of time from each drum of her heart. R knew defense was the correct choice, and yet… 
She swung one bottle at the man, but he suddenly ducked and the handle of the machete rammed into her stomach. R brought the other bottle down onto his head, but he suddenly threw R to the side. Her head rang as it hit the side of a shelf and her arms could barely push her off. She was cold, wet, and injured. 
Her legs kicked out and she mustered as loud of a scream as she could. The man had suddenly straddled her waist. The machete was tossed to the side out of reach and R could barely coordinate her arms enough to paw at the selfing behind her. Her nerves were on fire and, even though a normal human might have more strength, her entire body hurt and her bones cracked with every stretch.
She trembled as one gloved hand grabbed and pinned her wrists together above her head. The other was fishing through the pockets before withdrawing a syringe. Her eyes widened and tears slid down her cheeks.
“God, please, no…! Please —!”
The syringe was suddenly stabbed skillfully into her neck. The cold liquid sent shivers down her body and R blinked. She was not moving but the world began to circle around her. Her eyelids felt heavy and although she thought of cries for help, she could not muster the strength.
The breathing of the man grew heavier and louder, almost from excitement. Her body went limp and the hand that held her wrist suddenly slid down her face and shut her eyes for her. One last sigh escaped R.
It was a similar headache like she had earlier, if not of a different caliber. R was cognizant of every sensation but could not form thoughts. It was like she was both deeply in her bones but also out of her body. She heard the rumblings of movement and arms slid underneath her. R’s body rag dolled against the figure’s back and felt every step.
She opened her eyes for but a brief moment. She was only being led further into the basement. And once she was set in an uncomfortable wooden chair, her mind went silent.
~~~
R’s eyes blinked open at the sound of two familiar voices: Ben and Josh. Her entire body ached, but when she went to stretch, she realized her body was completely restrained. Her hands and feet could wiggle, but her over arms, legs, and torso were tied to a limp wooden chair. Her eyes shot up and she gazed at the light source. Beyond a chainlink fence, were two pleading men who dangled from the ground with their wrists shackled to a wooden plyboard. R immediately released a shriek, even as her head pounded.
“R, baby, are you okay?” Ben shouted, flailing his body desperately. “Please, you gotta help us —!”
Josh was all but silent, although wide eyed and afraid. His eyes were glued to the sharp, horizontal blade that had a mechanical path to aim straight at them. And as R looked at her hands, she realized there were two buttons in reach of her fingers; each with a photo of one of the men.
“Where - what —“ R started, only for a speaker to turn on.
“Hello, and thank you for joining me.”
Screams and cries echoed in the room form all three. R struggled against her restraints, even craning her neck to try bitting the rope. Even the chair itself seemed glued to the ground and didn’t budge.
“What is this?” Josh shouted out.
“We’re going to conduct a little experiment. A test of loyalty. Now, for this experiment, we’ll need the cooperation of R. Our brave participant will decide which subject will live and which will die.”
R let out a gargled beg and tears cascaded her vision. 
“Fuck! R! R, you gotta get me out of here, babe! I fucking love you! Fuck!”
Josh was quiet beside him, intense eyes glued to R in horror. “Please, oh god…”
“Please. Everyone, calm down. It’s all very simple. R, you will find two buttons directly in front of you. All you have to do… is choose who you will save!”
Before R could truly comprehend the words, the mechanical blade began to whir. R’s mouth became dry as she gaped at the horror in front of her.
“Shit, okay, okay… things will be okay,” Josh trembled, his body limp against the chains. His eyes held an intent focus on the blade that was slowly approaching both.
R let out a squeal and tried hurling out of the seat again. “Fuck, what the fuck is this!” R bellowed, fingers treating each button like the plague. “But if I…”
“R, Jesus, you know who you have to pick. Please, babe! You’re my everything! I’m sorry, Josh, but fuck! R, I’m your future! I love you! Please, I don’t want to die!”
She blinked at the man, guilty and nausea erupting in her stomach. She watched as the blade grew nearer, and it was impossible to ignore that both would die without her choosing. Her eyes switched between the two as her breaths heaved.
“I… I can’t… why…! Who, why…”
“R, l - listen to me,” Josh’s voice suddenly boomed, despite how terrified he was. “It’s… it’s not your fault, okay? Y - you can choose me if you really want to! I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t blame you if you did, okay?You don’t owe me anything…! But… I don’t…”
R blinked away tears and her eyes flew between the buttons. The blade was mere feet away from killing both. 
There was no moment for logic or even feeling.
One last agonized cry escaped her lungs as she pressed a button.
The blade suddenly swerved left. Ben’s eyes widened in horror and he let out agonized roars of fear. Josh was wide eyed and could do nothing but watch.
“Me? Me? Why me, R? I… I’m sorry. No… This isn’t your —“
Pained howls escaped and the whirring was suddenly conjoined with splattered of blood. R didn’t want to, but she could not look away as she watched the blade cut and sear into Ben’s flesh. 
“I - I’m sorry, Ben! I love you! I love you so much!”
Ben only watched R weakly as his lips blubbered. His lungs tore and blood coated everything around him. The screams did not last long as his torso dangled underneath him. The pleads turned into gargles and the gargles turned into silence as Ben’s head hung. And then the legs detached, collapsing to the ground.
And then, there was nothing but the ringing silence as even the blade came to a halt.
R’s head hung and her body trembled with contained sobs. She was almost dazed, completely unaware at the click of restraints from beyond the fence. Josh fell to the ground - but so did the upper half of Ben’s corpse.
And so, unless if she were to look up, she was blissfully unaware of the maddened grin that blossomed across Josh’s cheeks and how his eyes gleamed with adoration for the woman beyond the fence.
She peered up as the fence jangled. Josh’s blood-soaked body trembled as he clambered up the fence before his body dropped onto R’s side. R gasped a cried quiet apologies, not daring to stare at her boyfriend’s remains.
R felt like such an awful, evil person. But she refused to let them both die. What else could she do? Back then, could R have found a way to save at least Beth?
Her fuzzy vision was dutifully aware of how Josh nimbly untied R’s restraints. Small apologies and thanks were muttered from him - almost fondly. She gulped as her body immediately collapsed into the man in front of her when she was set free. Ben’s blood smeared across her body, but she clutched him desperately, hands trembling as warm, living arms held and comforted her in the moment. 
Josh was on his knees in front of her crying and thanking her with such sincerity. R allowed her body to fall forward and she sat on the ground, allowing Josh to hush her. R’s ears rang with the cries of the dead. And now, it wasn’t just Beth or Hannah - Ben had joined the cacophony.
“R, it’s okay. There’s nothing you - you could have done,” he gasped into her ear, hands pawing and grasping at her back.
The woman sat up suddenly, eyes glossed over with despair. She grasped at the front of Josh’s shirt, and although entranced, swayed from side to side. His lips trembled as he watched, hands at her waist to keep her upright.
“Joshie, what have I done…? Who’s doing this? Where’s everyone else? I just… I just killed someone - my boyfriend —“
“No, R, please,” Josh pleaded, pawing at her face. She flinched at how wet his hands were. “You didn’t kill anyone. It’s not your fault, okay? Thank you. Thank you, R. You didn’t kill him - you saved me. I didn’t… I didn’t think you would. Please, you did the right thing, okay? You shouldn’t… you never should have been involved.”
R barely bast an eye at his strange wording, accepting his kind and gentle words. Had she made the right choice? Was there even a right choice? Ben had been her lover, yes. But she’d known Josh for four years - surely there was a sense of loyalty in that, right? But logically, shouldn’t Josh had been put out of her misery instead? Josh had lived a hard, traumatized life - and Ben had a normal, happy upbringing and adulthood —
“Listen, we have to get out of here, okay? We don’t know where that guy is or if he’s working with someone. A - and we have to get help, right?”
Josh was handling himself with a surprisingly clear mind. R recalled that when Hannah and Beth had died, he had been violent, angry, and discombobulated. He could barely speak a proper sentence and had to be drugged for his own safety. He had been suicidal, manic, and bipolar. But now… he was speaking so plainly.
It was surely the adrenaline of it all. R limply nodded, allowing Josh to wrap his arms under her armpits and stabilize her while she stood up. R was wobbly from residual drugs and leaned against Josh. She gripped his splotchy panel in her hands.R then noticed how cold it was.
A scream suddenly rang throughout the basement and both went stiff as a board. Josh was quick to wrap his arms around her protectively. 
“W - we should —“
“Yeah. Come on, R, it came from that way.”
The pair stabilized one another as they both limped down the hallway. Josh seemed to be able to navigate the large basement with ease. And then, as they rounded a corner, a light activated and blasted into the room.
Matt and Emily were tied precariously - it was almost like a tug-of-rope situation: their hands were tied together  and were blocked off from one another and R with glass walls. However, there was a hole that allowed the rope to go through. And strangle, it was like the ground was inverted and tilted, dipping down to the middle. The slopes also had several drains.
“Hello, Matt and Emily. It appears we have an audience.”
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unsoundedupdates · 1 day ago
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Epilogue p18
•LATEST UPDATE HERE•
Gotta get 'em juiced first! Gotta get 'em roaring!
Check out the print book ANNOUNCEMENT if you missed it! :D
After over 15 years, Unsounded finally has a publisher! The comic is going to be put to print by Iron Circus Comics, a very cool company that's done webcomics as illustrious as Rice Boy, Lackadaisy Cats, and TJ and Amal. Pretty rad, right? Our tiny baby has finally grown up, and it's all thanks to you, readers. Your support all these years helped the comic reach its end, and that's really what got a publisher to consider it. So thank you.
Now, please, please head over to the Kickstarter campaign page, and give it a follow! The campaign will be launching in a bit over a month. There'll be LIMITED bonus goodies - including commissions and free shipping - but you'll have to act fast once it launches! Let's get lots of followers on there before then, it makes us look sick and cool.
There are some crucial logistical things for current readers to know though. The most important one is these two books are NEW COMPILATIONS. They do not sync up with the old self-published books; in addition to having new covers and newly retouched art - they are LONGER. Volume 1 contains chapters 1-4 as well as a Duane in Sharteshane bonus comic (this is the old v2 comic). Likewise Volume 2 is LONGER, containing chapters 5-8, a newly illustrated Tainish guide, and a brand new Knock and Anadyne comic.
I had no choice but to recompile the books, my darlings. In order to get the entire massive story into 6 books, I had to squish more into the early volumes. I know it's a little disappointing, please don't be too mad at me. Compromises had to be made in order to ever see the entire story in print. I wanted to also publish a third book at this time, and even did a rad new cover for it to try and sell it to the publisher, but there simply was not room in their schedule for 3 huge books this year. To get the rest of the books, we have to make sure these first two sell well! So please consider purchasing them when the campaign starts. I really busted my ass to make them worth it for you! Even as I've been drawing the final chapter and epilogue the past year, I've been working on these books :)
So! Contact me on Tumblr if you have any questions! And please follow that preview page so you'll know when the crowdfund launches! Thanks, everyone! :)
-Ashley
•••••••••••• Discuss the comic on Discord or Reddit
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aurora-starshine · 12 hours ago
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Hey there- Ho there - Hi there! :D
So I have a few questions!
I am curious of some parts of the school
1] How the sorting happens? Like what is the ritual?
2] What each dorm is like look and vibe wise? Also how do the students get into them? Like is there a Mirror Halls like place for them as well? Do they also have housewardens as well? What determines who became a housewarden if there is one?
3] What sort of classes are in the school and what sort of clubs are there?
I think knowing these it helps a lot of other OC creators.
Thank you for your answers in advance! ^^
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Alrighty! top down, lets go! Cutoff because its a very, very long post:
1. When each girl comes to the school for orientation, they are brought into a large Observatory. Each first year will take a turn coming up to a large floating star, and wordlessly it will glow in the color of their dorm. Blue - Wonderwacken Purple - Nottingwood Green - Atlantivilla Teal - Jawharaoasis Red - Blancwittchen Orange - Astrapiheros Pink - Belladormir
2. Each dorm can be accessed similarly to the dorms in NRC, through a hall of doors. Each student is given a key adorned with symbols of their dorm, this is needed to open the door. So guests need to be let in by a girl from that respective dorm. Each door is similarly decorated by symbols for the dorm (Roses for Belladormir, Shells for Atlantivilla, etc) The vibes vary for each dorm, but theyre pretty peaceful overall. For Wonderwacken, it's various mid sized buildings, each decorated like some aspect of Wonderland. such as a house based on the mushrooms, or the white rabbits cottage. all surrounded by a colorful forest that glows softly at night For Atlantivilla it is a castle by the seaside. A large beach is the main focus for most of the students, perfect for surfing, swimming, and tanning. The castle is also nice, with colorful caribbean decor Jawharaoasis is very similar to Scarabia, only that it is surrounding a large Oasis. Students here are known to favor swimming in the cooling water, or studying under the shady trees
Blancwittchen is a bit odd in that instead of a central building, or several larger buildings, it is instead cottages that house four first years, two second years, and one first year. These smaller groups usually become good friends
Astrapiheros is one big giant roman style castle, surrounding a courtyard big enough for its students to study, train, and generally spend time together in. Its walls are painted with murals of old myths Nottingwood is akin to an old english town. a central castle where most of its activities and study places are, and smaller houses which are fairly close together to act as rooms. its easy to walk from ones "house" to the castle And Belladormir is one giant castle with enough rooms for its students, surrounded by fields of grass and flowers. The castle interior is the most classical with its stone walls and nearly ceiling high stained glass windows. It also hosts a large garden which is the most common hang out spot for the dorm.
Instead of housewardens, the leaders of each dorm is called the "Princess". it is one of the most controversial parts of the charm school, as with each batch of new students, there's a chance the star from orientation will choose a new princess for the dorm. For instance, when Allison arrived, the title of princess was taken from a third year, and given to her. Many questions have been asked to the current head of the school, but she has been unable to answer why the star does this 3. The current classes and clubs are as follows: Classes: Etiquette, Choir, PE, Politics and leadership, Dance, Riding, Literature, Art, Home economics, history, Animal languages, Mathmatics, Astrology, etc (A lack of magic courses because this is not considered a mage school, but instead a charm school) Clubs: Boardgame, Animal care, Equestrian, Music, Tennis (But this is very likely to grow as more characters are added, so if you have a club idea, go for it!)
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lemon-and-lead · 8 hours ago
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I just wanted to say that I adore your Mysterio art and au concepts! I was curious if maybe you’d be willing to share some more on that. I adore that you leaned into the lich aesthetic <3
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Of course! Here's some elaboration on the lore I had in mind for my version of the character. Kept it beneath the cut because it's pretty long.
Drawing from stuff established in one arc of the comics (which I'm unable to recall the issue numbers for, so I can't link them) Quentin Beck was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer caused by some of the chemicals he'd been using. During a disastrous attempt at a final crime spree was cut short by the hero Daredevil, and with nothing left to lose, Mysterio took his own life. The golden details in the center of his forehead are there to patch up the cracks left in his skull by the bullet.
Due to his villainy, Mysterio was damned to spend eternity in hell. However, he managed to form a pact with the demon Kindred. (In the comics, Kindred is messy and inextricably tied up in the events of One More Day. However, in my version, that particular arc hasn't and will NEVER happen. Kindred is a demon that has unrelated villainous motives.) The deal is this- Quentin is reanimated as a terrifying, half-living revenant, and granted several new, authentic magical abilities, in exchange for bringing Kindred "A Pure Heart", which Quentin interprets to mean the heart of one of the heroes that had long made his life difficult. He cuts ties with the Sinister Syndicate of villains to act as a rogue element, antagonizing both the Spider-Force and his former allies alike.
Where before, his motives were simply to obtain money and infamy, now he's got the devil breathing down his neck. He's still the same theatrical, flamboyant personality before, but he's under an immense amount of stress, so he tends to act even more manic and erratic than before.
He can disguise his identity at will by shape shifting into someone else. However, the only solid, non-illusory part of his body is his skeleton. To transform into someone else, the rest of the necessary biomass is made up of random organic material summoned up from the underworld. Though visually perfect, his illusions can be identified by the odor of decaying flesh. When struck, the outer layer of material sloughs off and reveals itself to be a layer of rotting flesh, maggots and giant centipedes. It's an incredibly effective form of psychological warfare, but because it's so easily identifiable by smell it isn't effective for trying to impersonate people.
On a lighter, less lore heavy note, here are some personal facts about my version of Quentin Beck: He's a big fan of the band Queen.
He's a second generation Indian immigrant.
He wears a lot of green and yellow, but his favorite colour is the bright magenta he uses on his cape.
He's a hardcore believer in all those old theater superstitions. If you tell him "good luck" instead of "break a leg" he'll take it as a personal offense.
He hasn't said the name Macbeth in years.
He's got a bit of a sweet tooth, with a particular fondness for chocolate wafers.
His dream vacation is to England, to visit the globe theater.
@thecrowandtheraven08 @hollowsart @biqueuerious
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n1k0laa5 · 2 days ago
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I DESPERATELY need to yap about my better CR/waiting room boyfriend so here’s the encyclopedia of Sal, the emotionally repressed, mafioso-born, thick-accented, tough-on-the-outside New York Italian mess of a man who just so happens to be wildly, inconveniently in love with a multiverse-shifting, god-complex-having being named Nikolas. C’est moi.
PS. In this reality, my dearest Sal is completely aware of everything—and I mean everything. The waiting room, the shifting, even my OR. Knows all about it and it’s kinda fun that way. Still worried I’ll get too attached to him cuz he’s perfect. 😞
GENERAL PERSONALITY & VIBE
• Zodiac sign? Scorpio. He denies it. Claims astrology is “a buncha hippie bullshit,” but secretly googled compatibility with me once.
• Vibe? A pit bull in a leather jacket who’s been denied a hug for twenty years.
• Love language? Acts of service + physical touch he will never admit to liking.
• First impression? Probably that he’d rob you. Or marry you. Depends on how close you stand.
• Accent? Thick New York Italian. “Ya kiddin’ me? What is this, a fuckin’ fairy tale?” is a daily expression. Drops “-ing” on every verb: goin’, talkin’, fightin’, cryin’.
HABITS, QUIRKS, TICKS
1. Talks with his hands. Always.
Even when lying. Which is always. So the hands? They never stop.
2. Adjusts his hoodie strings when nervous.
Pulls them, tangles them, knots them in his fingers. If he’s real anxious? Chews the plastic tip.
3. Bites the inside of his cheek when trying not to cry.
Will never admit he’s doing it.
4. HATES crying in front of others.
Like viscerally. Would rather get shot.
5. Has a temper.
Real bad. Like “throws a chair across the room when overwhelmed” bad.
6. Cannot handle praise.
Compliment him and he’ll either insult you or kiss you and then storm off. No in-between.
7. LOVES candy.
Like embarrassingly. Jellybeans, taffy, weird hard strawberry candy wrapped in crinkly plastic. You give him a candy bracelet and he will suck on it and act like he ain’t.
8. Can’t take his shoes off unless he’s home.
Deeply embedded habit. “Ain’t takin’ ‘em off. What if I gotta bolt? Ya tryna get me whacked?”
9. Calls everyone by the wrong name just to assert dominance.
Knows your name is Steve. Will call you “Stan” and stare you down.
10. Secretly LOVES soap operas.
Thinks no one knows.
EMOTIONAL REPRESSION
(Because I love sad men.)
“I’m fine” is his catchphrase.
Said after being visibly not fine. Often with blood on his knuckles and tears he won’t wipe.
Can’t say “I need you” without choking on it.
Will reword it into: “Don’t be stupid, I just don’t want ya runnin’ off and gettin’ killed or somethin’. That’s all.”
Once broke a mirror after hearing “I love you” too gently.
Still apologizing for it.
Will never start a vulnerable conversation.
But will stay if you start one. Will stay even if it kills him inside.
WHEN HE’S LOVING
Whiny affectionate.
“C’mon, just lemme hold ya for five minutes, damn. You always runnin’ around.”
Protective in dumb ways.
“You cold? I ain’t got a jacket but I will punch the weather, swear to God.”
Does little things he thinks no one notices.
Puts my socks on the radiator so they’re warm in the morning.
Locks every window twice when I’m asleep.
Hates flowers, but always notices which ones I glance at while out.
Physical touch turns him into a melted puddle.
But only in private. Sal in public? Stone cold.
Sal in private? “Ya skin’s warm… I like that. Don’t move.”
Talks to Nikolas like he’s simultaneously his baby and his bodyguard.
“You’re delicate, aight? I mean—you’re powerful and weird as hell but like—don’t die, okay?”
WHEN HE’S ANGRY
Walks in circles.
Like a lot. Will stomp around the kitchen five times before speaking.
Punches walls ONLY when completely alone.
Would rather die than let anyone see that side.
Yells first, apologizes second.
“I ain’t yellin’ at YOU, I’m just yellin’—fuck, alright, sorry. Shit. Don’t look at me like that.”
Hates being misunderstood.
Which happens constantly. Cue the tantrum.
Once stormed out in the middle of an argument and came back with a sandwich for me.
“Still mad, but ya looked hungry.”
QUOTES
1. “Ayo—who the fuck puts spinach in a breakfast wrap? SPINACH? That ain’t breakfast. That’s lawn clippings with a side of fuck you.”
2. “I ain’t gay, I just like one guy. One. And he’s fuckin’… magical or whatever. Don’t make this weird.”
3. “You cried at a Folgers commercial two nights ago.” “He was makin’ coffee for his ma! There was emotion!”
4. “I don’t do soft, aight? You’re the soft one. I’m the muscle. I do the protectin’. I’m the big spoon. I—shut up, stop laughin’.”
5. “Yeah, I cried. One time. It was the wind. The wind got in my eyes. Shut up.”
6. “I missed a spot? You missed my ass when you kissed it goodbye last night.”
7. “I’m not mad. I’m just—yeah, no, I’m mad. Forget it.”
8. “Nah. Nah, we ain’t doin’ this. This smells like a baby shower hosted in Hell’s Kitchen. Turn that shit off before I start cryin’ for no reason.”
[Cue lighting another candle for funsies]
“You light one more of those arson sticks I swear to God I’m gonna choke you with throw pillows.”
LITTLE DETAILS
• Nickname for me is “Maraschino”. Yes. The cherries.
• Cries during the Star-Spangled Banner. Every single time.
• Thinks “emotions are for chumps” but owns a teddy bear named “Big T.”
• Loves my thighs. Like. A lot. Like “can’t talk properly if Nik is wearing shorts” a lot. I need my man affectionate.
• Once stole a priest’s Vespa just to pick up soup.
• Calls himself “a street prophet” when drunk.
In short: Sal is a walking contradiction. He’s violent and soft. Scared and cocky. A trauma-scarred product of a life in organized crime who’s been handed something fragile and divine in the form of a boy from another reality.
And I adore him. And I miss him. And I will crash out again without this fuckass Italian boy.
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