#anyway there's a place in my server for anyone who wants or needs it

[shinynx]

In my discord server this has been discussed extensively ever since the day of the stream and we've continuously talked abt how fucked up it was that there was never any statement made, they way the crew and fans alike treated a certain person, and how it was just swept under the rug and the group most hurt was trampled on and harassed out of the server.. I and others have unfollowed and unsubbed but I realize now that isn't enough. It seems like no one cares enough to actually read this letter. So please do that now, and share. And THINK about it.

It realy seems like no actual apology is going to be made which is soo disgusting and sad. I was subbed to multiple members for multiple years, and i met my very best friends because of them. It's unfortunate that they can't be grown up enough to handle this situation properly. I haven't said anythin in the wrtv server because I'm really not at all articulate, and my friends have already eloquently stated everything that needed to be said. Just know I support the four brave people who wrote this, and I respect and love everyone of you who actually stood up for them and acknowledged how poorly it was handled and how disingenuous and dismissive they continue to act about it.

[ccliffjumperr]

hey if i made a transformers server who would join

[corollaservant]

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’ 

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

-

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 

The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 

‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

[nadianova]

welcome to surprise nadia nova how to make a visual novel tutorial

you want to 100% use ren'py i dont make the rules

its straightforward enough that simply downloading, installing and hitting the "create new project" and spamming through the menu and then opening script.rpy to see the code which will tell you like 70% of what you need to make your first vn. there no need to be afraid just because the word 'code' was mentioned. ren'py's own language is just copy pasting stuff back and forth and inserting your own names and pictures. its nothing like C# or java or whatever languages exist cause i know jackshit about any of that and dont know how to do programming

anyway, inside the main script file, script.rpy, are commented instructions on how to name a character, place a sprite, place a background, and put in text and you can basically make a vn with these things. i can not stress it enough KEEP IT SIMPLE, especially if you're starting out. making things complicated or planning massive projects is just shooting yourself in the foot. better to make 2 minute game than get stuck trying to make a epic masterpiece

writing a story is its own thing. however anyone can write and its better to write a shit story than no story. that way you have something to build on and get more comfy with your own art process. its what me and everyone else who makes vns and any other art or skill or hobby have done too.

if you like what some other vn/manga/anime/story does copy it and smash these inspirations together to make your own thing. save pictures and lines you see that get you inspired if you need inspiration and references for your own story. everything in this world is inspired by other things someone else has made. its not stealing unless you get absurd and download someone elses game and take out half the assets and put them in your own game and pretend you didnt

if you have interest do yourself a favour and make a vn. as far as game development goes its one of the most accessible options out there . ren'py is an amazing engine having all the vn necessities already in place since that allows you to just focus on the story and not have to worry about setting things up yourself and scrambling with advanced code unless you really want to

i know the jam is just ending in the following weeks and depending on when you see this post this might be outdated as hell but my yurijam server is still going and will be going until people simmer out and something new shiny takes their attention. still, its a server an people post gay shit there occasionally even outside of jams so me and many others are helpful and like answering questions to help otehrs make stuff. so i think the best way is to join the server rn and just ask questions in the help channel. better to ask stupid questions than no questions

now go make a visual novel im holding a whip and making those scary crack sounds and aiming just close enough to your feet that youre almost convinced it hit you despite your jumping and dancing and DANCE NOW DANCE MAKE A VISUAL NOVEL DANCE GET TO IT MAKE A VISUAL NOVEL DO IT NOW OR ILL GET YOUR FACE NEXT MAKE A VISUAL NOV-

anyway but for real if you really are interested make a vn cause im holding a whip and making thOSE SCARY CR-

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt. 10)

Mastterpost

A/N: Thank you all for the well wishes about my dog. Unfortunately he didn't make it and pass away Tuesday morning in the vet's office. I was able to get some writing done but I don't have the energy to edit. Let me know if you find any mistakes.

-----

Jason: hey, thanks for the gun and the tech, it's really cool.

Danny: new phone who dis 😝

Jason: I hope you haven't given too many people guns in the last couple days.

Danny: no I haven't, thanks for texting me Jason. Have you got a chance to try the gun?

Jason: not on anything moving, I've been doing some target practice to get a feel for it though. Looking forward to when I can test it on Vlad.

Danny: aww are you going to avenge my honor 🥺

Jason: if you want me too. I'll bring you his head if you want me too.

Danny: 🥰 you're so sweet. I wouldn't say no to seeing him suffer for what he's done but don't get yourself in any trouble okay? And if you do call me right away. I'll come rescue you 😘

Jason: hey I'm the one offering to protect you! 

Danny: we can protect each other. And fight each other, can you come spar again soon?

Jason: I wouldn't call that sparring, more like brawling.

Danny: eh potato potato, do you want to come fight me again?

Jason: if demon brat won't kill me for it, sure. Can I take you out for dinner afterwards? I have some questions

Danny: It's a date! Just tell me when

Jason: Day after tomorrow? I have some work to take care of first.

Danny: Sounds great! And it is a date right? You don't mind that I'm going to have kids?

Jason: the kids aren't a deal breaker I promise but let's not jump the gun okay? We're going to be family through B so we don't want this to blow up in our faces. Let's hang out, take it slow, see how it goes. You need to be careful about who you let into your life now anyway, you can't just let anyone around you and the babies.

Danny: don't tell me what to do 😠 but you're right. I'm bad about rushing into things. I'm still looking forward to it.

Danny: By the way Jazz uploaded the power point she made about Liminals and Ghosts to the bat’s server thing. You have access to that right? You should read that before we meet and I can fill in the gaps.

Jason: Sounds good, I’ll have a look at it and I’m looking forward to it too. I'll be there at 5 so we can spar before dinner. Don't forget to warn B and your guard dog.

Danny: Damian is a good kid. I'll let them know.

Danny stared at his new phone Tim had given him with apprehension. The chat with Jason had gone very well, and Danny was glad he reached out but there were other people he really needed to reach out to and he was… frankly scared. Sam and Tucker were his best friends and had always been there for him but they both had tempers. Would they be mad that he hadn’t told them he was pregnant? Would they be upset he had left Amity and wasn’t planning on coming back?

He needed to reach out though, the longer he waited the harder it would be to talk to them, and things wouldn’t stay calm as they were now. Vlad would be back to cause trouble again and even though the JLD had control of the portal but he was sure his rogues would find their way through eventually. Vlad had his own portal anyway, and Danny wouldn’t put it past him to open it just to annoy Danny. Maybe try and weaken him a little so Vlad could swoop in and pick him off.

Today was quiet, he needed to take this chance. He sighed and got up off the edge of his bed where he was sitting and ducked out of his room. He didn’t want to do this alone, so he wasn’t surprised when he found himself in the library where Jazz was studying. 

He sat down across from her and reached across, laying his hand, palm up on the table. Without looking up from her book she reached over and placed her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiled at her and took a deep breath before putting on his earbuds and sending a message in the group chat.

Danny: When you guys are ready can we call?

Jazz phone went off too and she checked it, smiled at Danny, and then silenced the chat and went back to her book. She didn’t need to be part of this call but at least she knew what he was doing. 

Sam: Yes, let me just grab Tuck. He’s playing Doomed.

Danny took a deep breath and put down his phone while he waited for them to call and tried not to panic.

When the phone buzzed he jumped and reached for it, joining the call quickly. 

“Hey guys,” He said, awkwardly, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.

“Hey yourself! What the heck happened Danny?! Basically the whole town joined in in chasing Vlad when we found out what he did but why did we have to find out on tv?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Sam said, but at least she just seemed stressed, not actually angry.

“I’m sorry guys,” Danny said, wincing a little when he heard Tucker sniffling a little. “I hadn’t told anyone yet. I hadn’t even fully accepted it yet honestly.

“I still wasn’t ready to talk about it, bur Cass is really good at reading people's body language and I guess she clocked that I was carrying them by how I kept unconsciously touching my stomach. When she asked me about it it sorta broke through my denial and I broke down which started the ball rolling on… all this,” He said with a vague gesture.”

“All this is right!The justice league really brought the hammer down on Amity. They’re dismantling the GIW and really pissed at the government and basically all the adults in the town for letting this happen. And they arrested your parents!” Sam said sounding almost excited.

“Sam! That was really insensitive! They’re still his parents, what if he didn’t know!?” Tucker broke in furiously. 

“No it’s alright I knew, Jazz told me. She’s here with me,” He said squeezing her hand though she wasn’t paying attention to the call.

“Okaaay so where is Here?” Tucker asked warily. 

“Ya are you safe? We haven’t seen you since all this went down! Are you really with Bruce Wayne?” Sam asked sounding wary.

“Yes I am. He’s got a foster license and since his kids were the one that found out what was going on it just made sense that I’d stay here.”

“And he’s Not another Fruitloop?” Sam asked warily. “You need to be careful with these rich people you know? They’re basically all crazy!”

“Sam you’re rich,” Danny pointed out, amused. 

“Ya, and? My point stands!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughed. “But no, I did some snooping the first night I was here and it seems okay. And since he’s got close ties to the Justice League he was able to get the help we really needed, and he says he might be able to help me meet Martian Manhunter!”

“Don’t fanboy out too bad,” Tucker teased him.

“Oh ya? And what if I helped you meet Tim Drake? Would you not be just as bad,” Danny accused Tucker.

“Touche,” Tucker said. “Could you though?”

“I mean maybe? He’s my foster brother now and he seems cool. You two are my best friends, if I’m going to stay I’m sure you could come visit me and meet all of them.” 

“Are you really going to stay there though? I mean once the GIW and everything is cleared out you could stay with either of us. I know my parents aren’t your biggest fans but I know they’d let you stay,” Sam said sounding worried. 

“And I know my family doesn't have a ton of money but they adore you, we’d make it work,” Tucker added looking worried.

“No, guys I really appreciate the offer but… I don’t want to come back to Amity. The Justice League said they shut down the portal and I really need a fresh start I think. I think I’d rather stay here. Jazz too, she’s gonna study at Gotham U and intern at Arkham,” He said. She looked up at the mention of her name and gave him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, you guys are my best friends and I’ll miss you, but there are too many… memories in Amity you know?”

“Ya I get that,” Sam said, looking sad and distant.

“We can still call, and play Doomed together, and visit on breaks!” Tucker said, his chipper tone sounding a little forced. “We’re going to say friends!” He insisted and Danny smiled.

“Of course we will Tuck,” He promised. They might grow apart with the distance between them, but he hoped not, they really were his best friends.

“Ya, my parents will probably be thrilled about this development and want me to come over all the time. They love the Waynes,” Sam chuckled though her optimism also seemed a bit forced. Of course she was more of a pessimist, she probably thought they would drift apart, but knew Danny needed them right now. 

“Soo what’s been going on in Amity since I left?” Danny asked, letting them ramble about the drama, the rumours, and the bullshit that was the bullies and everyone in the school sudden;y pretending they cared about Danny soooo much.

After they finished telling him about it there were a few beats of silence and Danny was just about to suggest they hang up when Sam spoke up again. 

“So, what actually happened with Vlad? If you don’t want to talk about it that’s okay but…”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not what- what you’d think. It’s superhero bullshit really. When I wouldn’t be his son he decided to try and clone me, you met Dani with an I right? She was one of the clones. But he didn’t know I was trans, and my DNA got all fucked up in the portal so none of the clones were stable. I have no idea how many he tried to make that died. But when I found out it was because he had lied to Dani and told her he needed me to stabilize her clone brothers. It was a batch of ten.

“But he lied, he didn’t actually care about stabilizing them, he was going to let them all die. I was only able to save the two that were most stable and only by taking their cores into myself. So I’m not normal pregnant, I’m ghost pregnant. 

What is my life huh?” He finished, chuckling awkwardly. 

“Oh fuck,” Sam said her shoulders slumping a little even as her expression went through a range of emotions. “That’s better in a way but still a whole different type of fucked up! I hope they catch him soon.”

“I hope so too but I don’t think they will,” Danny said with a shrug. “Not before he tries something else. I’m not lucky enough to be able to just move past this,” He said with a bitter little laugh.

“Well, we can still hope. And even if he does cause trouble you have more allies now! You’ve been able to handle everything else he’s thrown at you basically on your own, with the Justice League behind you I know there’s nothing you can’t handle. I mean, Vlad is kind of pathetic anyway,” Tucker encouraged making Danny smile. 

“Ya, you’re right, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thanks guys,” he said fondly. 

“Of course dude! We’re here for you!” Tucker said.

“It’s really good to hear from you too. Don’t be a stranger okay?” Sam said, a bit worried.

“Of course not, I’ll keep you posted I promise.” Danny assured before they said their goodbyes and he hung up. 

He put down his phone and leaned back with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. Next to him Jazz chuckled and there was a soft snap as she closed her book. 

“You did well little brother,” She told him, getting up from her seat she moved behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders.

“How do you know? You weren’t listening.”

“No, but you reached out to your friends and had an honest conversation which isn’t easy. You did well,” She reiterated, squeezing his shoulders.

“Well thanks Jazz. I hope that they’re right that we won’t lose touch, and I’ll be able to handle whatever Vlad does,” He grumbled. 

“I’m sure we will,” Jazz promised. “And either way there’s no point in worrying about it now. Has Jason texted you yet?” She asked, giving Danny the excuse he needed to change the subject and launch into his more petty worries about the upcoming date as she sat back down to listen.

Next

[ombiblombi]

P.AI.nter is SUCH an interesting character to me... he's probably become one of my all time favorites, as I haven't fixated on a character this hard since since...TMC. It physically hurts to think about it in the best way possible-

That being said, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS to say about 'em... so I'm going to dump them here.

First and formost, it's so interesting that P.AI.nter has such a wide array of emotions when it comes to attacking and interacting with the Expendables. At first it's strange, like "WTF?? You're trying to kill me and you just yelled how I was boring, wdym you're sorry??" But... knowing his lore and backstory, it makes so much sense.

P.AI.nters creator was gunned down on accident by Urbanshade, which upon the discovery of P.AI.nter, then decided to trap him in a harddrive and make it mine whats essenically crypto at the Hadal Site- For years, it's stuck mining for the company unwillingly, unable to draw the lanscapes it loved. For fucks sake, P.AI.nter tried to FRY HIS CIRCUTS just to get out. He's desprate, miserable and lonely, and just wants to escape- Any way possible.

And so when Sebastian comes reeks his havoc on the site and finds it, P.AI.nter is incredibly trusting of him to get them both out. Maybe alittle too trusting, but whats he got left to loose? They've both been used by the company and want nothing more to leave, leave and never return. So when Sebastian connects it to the servers- to the Navi-Path & Turrets and tells him to stop the Expendables, P.AI.nter does.

However.

This is self preservation down here. P.AI.nter of course, is rightfully angry at times. I mean- The same company that killed it's creator before his very (nonexistant) eyes, trapped it down here, and even sucked the joy he has from creating art away is now actively getting in the way of the freedom he yearns for. But at the same time... this isn't something done that it entirely wants to be doing. Like I said. This is self preservation. And his actions, and even your deaths weigh heavy. Theres a voiceline, and its delievered so well- Of P.AI.nter pleading for the player to wake up and apologizing profusely if it kills you.

That line sparked this whole theory in the first place.

Your death, reminds it of his creator.

Isn't it ironic how it's now manning the very same weapon that killed the one who brought him sentience in the first place? That he's now the one at fault? Thats gotta be on the back of his mind each and every time it leads an expendable to their demise.

This isn't personal.

He doesn't know who you are.

But it still hurts.

It really annoys me when people in the community call P.AI.nter two faced, or god forbid, do the shitty thing of saying in a derogatory manner that he's bipolar or such as a "joke". Thats just disrespectful to both the character and folks who do have it. It's just plain rude. People do something similar for Sebastian, saying that oh, they're ruining his character by making him mean and snarky and whatnot. I know this happens in every fandom out there, and that this rant is fruitless, but... people need to understand that characters like P.AI.nter and Sebastian have reasons behind their actions and have existing trauma that if you take a moment to look at, you can go "Wowie! Thats a complex character! Everything makes so much sense now, like a puzzle peice I can see traces of in their character in almost every aspect!" Rather than doing awful things like I brought up at the start. But... I digress. I know this rant wont change much so. I hope y'all enjoyed my mini character analysis

Anyway this video has all of P.AI.nters voicelines if 'ya wanna go have a listen after this :] also I got plenty more thoughts about P.AI.nter and Sebastian if anyone wants to know!

[jeneveuxrein]

safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)

(thanks to everyone who read the first story i published, truly appreciate it! this one's more plot than anything with a smidgen of you know)

“Hey.” 

You glance away from your screen to Park Chaeyoung standing in front of you, a determined look on her face. You prefer to call her Rosie, mostly because you know how much it irritates her, and you’re the only one that calls her by her English name.

“Uh hey Rosie,” You greet, slightly closing your laptop. “What’s up?” 

“I have a proposition for you,” Rosie leans over the table. “And please listen to it before you flat out say no.”

You raise an eyebrow, shutting your laptop completely. You start packing your belongings. 

“Wait what? What’re you doing?” Rosie straightens, taking a step back. 

“Well I’m hungry, and if I have to listen to you, I would rather do it while I’m eating,” You swing your backpack over one shoulder, adding, “You’re paying by the way.” 

As you walk away, you hear Rosie huff. You smirk when her arm loops with yours. 

“Fine,” You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pouting, but you wonder what, of all things, she needs you for.

Guess you’ll find out. 

--

The server places your orders in front of you, as Rosie sits across from you, sipping her iced coffee. You give a small thanks as your mouth waters at the sight of the burger. 

“You act like you don’t eat,” Rosie comments after you take the first bite. You flip her off after taking another bite. You hadn’t eaten lunch, so you were starving. 

“What do you want?” You ask before you continue eating, ignoring her comment. No matter what, you were ravenous. This burger would be gone before she finished.

“Okay,” Rosie takes a breath, composing herself. You realize that whatever she’s going to ask you is big, especially if she’s asking you. Though, you keep eating. “So you know how I’ve never been in a relationship right?” 

You nod. It wasn’t any of your business, nor did you pay any attention to her dating life specifically, but your friends, the girls mostly, commented a lot about her lack of dating, or really lack of interest in anyone.

“Well, there’s this guy who I’ve been talking to lately and I think I like him,” Rosie takes a small bite of her salad. “The only problem is my, I guess, experience, if you’re catching my drift.” 

This burger is too good for you to stop eating, but you nod anyways, having absolutely no idea what she’s referring to.

“I was wondering if you could help me in that department,” You raise an eyebrow, which you’re paying attention now. “I mean, will you show me how to have sex?” 

You choke, being mid-bite, that the burger falls apart onto the plate. You cough as Rosie’s suddenly next to you, hitting your back. 

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Rosie asks once you’ve stopped coughing.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod, waving off the server who was walking towards your table. “I’m good,” You repeat and Rosie takes her seat again. 

“So? What do you say?” 

“No,” You say flatly, staring at the deconstructed burger on your plate. Thankfully you finished most of it, but still.

“What? Why?” Rosie crosses her arms, eyes narrowing. 

It doesn’t faze you. You’re used to this, especially if it’s with Rosie.

“First let me ask, why me?” You attempt to put the burger back together, distracting yourself from the thoughts of Rosie like that.

“Well, it was Jennie’s idea really,” Rosie confesses, watching you rearrange the meat patty. “She said that if I want to feel comfortable doing stuff with Soohyun, I should just get it over with.”

Choi Soohyun, the rich pretty boy at your university. You’ve met him a few times, and he’s nice enough. You know his track record with women is on par with yours, but the difference is that he uses his father’s money to pull them in. You, on the other hand, come from a relatively wealthy family as well, but only Rosie and her three best friends know that. 

“And it has to be me?” You ask bluntly, appetite suddenly gone as you push the plate away.

“Yes,” Rosie nods enthusiastically, “As much as everyone calls you a playboy, girls talk. You allegedly know your way around a bedroom, and what better way for me to learn is from you.”

“Chaeyoung, absolutely not,” Using her real name was only saved for serious moments, and this was way too serious for a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Why not?” Rosie argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s just sex, isn’t that what all guys want?”

“I’m not sure what guys you’ve been hanging out with, but no, not all guys want just sex,” You mock, leaning back into the chair. “And shouldn’t your first time be special with someone you actually, I don’t know, like?” 

“In an ideal world, yes,” Chaeyoung answers, aggressively stabbing a piece of lettuce. “But I don’t care much for that stuff. You’re not answering my question, why won’t you have sex with me?” 

There was a list of reasons you could think of as to why you won’t have sex with Rosie. 

Number one, and the only one you were concerned about, being the history you have together. 

You’ve been sworn enemies since middle school, but there was a time before that where you were actually close. You grew up in the house next to hers, and your parents set up multiple play dates that she was someone you enjoyed spending time with. You considered her your best friend. It changed in middle school, for reasons you still didn’t know. You didn’t have the mental capacity at that age to fix it because you missed her, but you’ve never told her that. 

In high school, it was better, but you feigned indifference while she flat out ignored you. Unless your families were having dinner, but even then that consisted of snarky comments and petty arguments. The amount of times her older sister had to step in were too many to count. 

You thought university would be your fresh start, but lo and behold, you couldn’t seem to shake her presence from your life. You thought you wouldn’t see her as much since you were taking different subjects, but your friends ran in the same circle, so you saw her more than you needed to. 

“Do you not find me attractive?” Rosie’s question catches you off guard when you don’t respond. 

You’d be lying if you said no. You’ve been a witness to Rosie turning into a beautiful woman, but if she knew that, especially coming from you, her ego would skyrocket. A lot of the men, even women, on campus have a crush on her, but she typically rejected anyone because she was too focused on school and her dream of becoming a fashion designer—something she was very close to achieving with the amount of internships she’s been receiving from companies abroad. 

“Shut up, you know it’s not that,” You mumble, ignoring the smirk forming on Rosie’s face. “It’s you and me. We haven’t gotten along since we were like seven, now all of a sudden, you want to,” You pause, thinking of how to say it, “Have sex with me because of what you’ve heard?” 

“Look,” Rosie sighs, face falling. You detect the desperation, but she’d never admit it. “I know our relationship is complicated, but you’re the only guy I can trust to do this. Jungkook would blab. Taehyung would be an ass. And Yoongi’s too nice. Everyone else has a girlfriend who I very much would like to stay friends with. Can’t we just put the past behind us?” 

You didn’t want to further complicate things. At best, you two were civil. At worst, Rosie would be yelling at you along with repeatedly hitting your shoulder to take back whatever set her off. 

Adding sex into the mix? It’s a bomb waiting to go off. 

“I don’t know, Chaeyoung,” You say softly, pushing your plate away. “As much as you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t think I could do that with you. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 

Her face softens, and she reaches for your hand, “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like we have feelings for each other right?” 

You don’t, as far as you’re aware, but you have always, and will always, have a soft spot for her. You may not have gotten along over the years, but you’d still have her back. If she means what she says about her trusting you out of all the friends she has, it’s important. 

“No,” It feels off saying that, but you ignore it. “Fine,” You relent. You couldn’t believe you were agreeing. “But we have to set rules.”

“Really?” Rosie beams, clapping her hands. “Yes yes, of course.” 

“Uh, first rule, we’ll do it at my place since I live alone. I don’t need Jennie or Lisa or Jisoo hovering,” You say, which she nods. You love the girls, hell you’ve slept with Jennie on a couple occasions, but they can be nosey and overly critical. 

“That makes sense. Rule number two, no sleeping over,” She makes a face, “I will literally bring you home if it’s super late, or I’ll just bring you home in general.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Rosie rolls her eyes. 

“I know I don’t, but I’m not budging,” You’re firm about that. Your parents would kill you if anything happened to Rosie and you were the last person to see her. 

“Rule three, if you sleep with other people, please let me know and use a fucking condom,” Rosie says, “I don’t want my first time to end up with a disease.”

You’re slightly offended because as much as you have sex, you are safe. Even when girls don’t want to use protection, you do. 

“Obviously I will.”

“Good,” Rosie nods, “Last rule, no feelings. If at any point you or I feel something more than our mutual disdain for each other, we stop.” 

“Okay,” You roll your eyes, “Like I’d ever fall for you, but fine.” 

A pit forms in your stomach after saying that, but again, you brush it off.

“Right back at ya,” Rosie winks, smiling brightly that she accomplished her mission. “So what’re you doing tonight? Can we start?”

You nearly choke on your saliva, eyes bugging out as Rosie looks completely serious. 

“Uh,” You don’t have anything planned. You still have to finish the budget report your professor assigned, but it wasn’t due for another week. “You want to start tonight?”

“The sooner, the better right?”

“Okay,” You nod, suddenly nervous about this whole situation. “Okay,” You say a bit more confidently. “You’re paying for this.”

“I know,” Rosie chuckles, signaling to the server for the bill. 

What did you get yourself into?

--

You open the door for Rosie, letting her in first before following. You shut the door while she takes off her shoes, neatly placing them to the side as you take off your coat. 

“So this is your place,” Rosie comments, walking along the wall as she inspects the photos. It is her first time here, not that she was never welcomed. Your apartment has always been your safe place, only allowing a select few here.  “Did you take these?” 

“Yeah, I’m minoring in photography, so,” You shrug, walking past her as she stares at a photo from Jennie’s birthday. “I’m going to change into sweats, did you need anything? Water? Soju?” You offer because you’re considering taking a shot before you get started to ease your nerves. 

Rosie laughs, shaking her head, “Soju? Really? You need that?” 

“Don’t make fun of me. It isn’t every day that one of the hottest girls at school asks me to teach her to have sex,” You mutter, but Rosie hears you loud and clear. 

“You admit that I’m hot then?” You swear you can hear her smirking behind you. 

“Fuck off, help yourself to whatever,” You roll your eyes as she laughs. 

You don’t bother entertaining her any longer, making your way to your room. You change into something comfy—grey sweats and a white shirt. You hadn’t expected company tonight, nor had you expected having sex. It’s been about a week since, even though your ex-girlfriend messaged you about hooking up for fun the other day. You didn’t even respond, knowing that would just end up messy.

When you return to the living room, Rosie sits on your couch, legs crossed as she types away on her phone. You’d bet she was texting Jennie. 

“So how do you want to do this?” You ask awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you sit next to her. You leave a decent amount of space in between, not wanting to seem too eager. 

“I don’t know,” Rosie sighs, “Is there a way we can just ease into it?” 

“Like making out and stuff?” You’ve never spoken about sex so mechanically, that this is a first for you too. 

“I guess? I don’t really know how to start this,” Rosie says unsurely, looking away. 

“Hey,” You reach over, a finger gently tilting her chin to look at you, “There’s no pressure okay? We can just watch TV first and go from there. We literally don’t even have to do anything. As long as you’re comfortable.”

You watch her lip quiver. You hope she doesn’t cry. The last girl you made cry was Nayeon when you broke up with her.

“Okay,” Rosie nods, leaning into your hand. “Thanks again for this. I know this whole situation is awkward.” 

“Stop,” You wave dismissively, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “It’s important to you, so I guess by default it’s important to me. Your pace,” You smile. 

When Rosie smiles back, you can feel something itch behind your rib cage. You quickly shake that away before retracting your hand. “Here,” You grab the remote, “Put something on, I’ll get us drinks.”

“Oh there’s this new Netflix reality show I want to watch,” You hear Rosie say as you walk to the kitchen. 

You didn’t have that much to offer, since you hadn’t had the time to head to the store. You do opt for a couple bottles of soju to ease both of your nerves along with water because hydration matters. You peruse your pantry and there’s a bag of unopened chips, figuring that would be good to have too. At least for yourself to keep your hands busy. 

When you return to the couch, placing the items on the coffee table, you see the opening credits of what looks like university students? 

“What’s this about?” You ask. This time, you sit closer to her, so that any shift in your leg, your knees would touch. 

Rosie goes on to explain the premise of the show, where people are about to be of legal age and how they form relationships in two different settings. She heard about the show from Lisa who binged it with Jennie in one night. 

“Is this sappy?” You pour a shot each, handing Rosie the glass. 

“Probably, but it’s wholesome,” Rosie raises the glass, “To my virginity?”

“I’m absolutely not toasting to that,” You roll your eyes, taking the shot without waiting. 

Rosie scoffs, downing the drink in one go before putting the glass on the coffee table. “You’re so annoying sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, instead choosing to pour another shot as the contestants of the show enter the classroom. You usually don’t drink this much on a weekday, but this situation warrants it. It feels surreal to be with Rosie, alone, in your apartment of all places. You couldn’t remember the last time you were willingly alone with her, but the thought of those memories were tucked away. 

“Here,” Rosie grimaces at the drink. “Just one more.” 

Rosie relents, taking the shot without making another annoying toast. You smirk before following. The liquid goes down smooth, but you feel the effects starting. Your cheeks feel warm, soothing some–not all–of the nerves. 

You lean back into the couch, throwing an arm casually over the cushion. Rosie automatically leans into you, sighing deeply before resting her head on your shoulder. 

“You smell good,” Rosie comments, snuggling deeper into your side. The compliment throws you off because she hadn’t said anything remotely nice to you in years. 

“Uh thanks,” You bring your free hand to scratch the back of your neck. Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nor do you. You settle in, letting what’s on the screen take your attention. 

The show is corny, but you understand why Rosie said it’s wholesome. The sense of innocence and pureness everyone has when it comes to relationships is something you miss. You hadn’t had that kind of outlook in years, which slightly makes you want to go into your future relationships more honest about how you feel.

But Nayeon cheating on you over a year ago left its damage on you. 

You’d never be disrespectful towards women, but you were upfront that whatever you did with them would never be serious. You couldn’t let it get too intense. Sure they’d always want more, but you couldn’t give yourself to someone like that again. 

At least not yet. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Rosie asks after a few minutes, resting her hand on your stomach. 

“Nayeon,” You say simply. 

She raises her head to look at you, “Huh, what why? Didn’t you break up like last year?”

“This show’s making me a little sentimental,” You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Why’d you two break up anyways?” 

“What’d you hear?” You prod, curious as to what Nayeon told people. 

“According to Jennie, who heard it from Sana, Nayeon was tired of arguing,” Rosie furrows her eyebrows as she remembers what she heard. 

That’s one way to put it. 

“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug. 

“There’s more to it huh?” She's as perceptive as ever. 

“She cheated on me,” Rosie’s eyes widened. “We got into an argument about her meeting my parents. She kept pushing the issue, but you know how my parents are. She storms out and next thing you know, I’m getting a call from Jungkook to come to this party to pick up Nayeon cause she’s wasted.”

You remember that night clearly, something you wanted to very much forget. 

“I got there. I’m looking all over for her, Jungkook and Taehyung have no idea where she went. We pretty much split up looking for her, and lucky me, the first door I opened, Nayeon’s naked, on top of some guy.” 

Rosie sits up straight, crossing her legs on the cushion as she faces you. The concerned expression etched on her face has you believing she almost cares, but you don’t. 

“And she sees me, which immediately sobers her up. All I could do was nod, telling her that we’ll talk in the morning,” The memory still hurts to think about. “Nayeon, being Nayeon, followed me out, apologizing, saying it was a mistake.”

Rosie takes hold of your hand, and you let her. Letting this out feels nice since you hadn’t told anyone what happened. You told Nayeon to tell people whatever she felt was best, and you’d keep the real reason a secret. 

“Anyways, next day, we talk and she’s sorry, of course, but she just didn’t understand what the big deal was. It’s not that I didn’t love her, cause I did, but I didn’t think we were there yet for her to meet them,” You sigh, shaking your head. “But yeah we broke up. I didn’t care what she said, and I didn’t defend myself when Sana and Jihyo cornered me, calling me an ass. I just started to sleep around, which probably was the reason why I got that playboy reputation.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Rosie says quietly after a minute, the words sinking in. 

You smile sadly, “It wasn’t for anyone to know, but it’s okay. It really is. Relationships are messy, which is why I avoid any emotional connection with girls. Not because I think less of them, but because I think the least of myself in that regard.”

“Stop,” Rosie squeezes your hand, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t know how you are in relationships, but I’m sure that whoever you’re with is lucky.”

“You’re just saying that,” Self-deprecation is something you’ve mastered in the past year.

Rosie tugs your hand with enough force so your face is in front of hers. You could feel her breath against your skin, the faint smell of alcohol lingering. “Stop,” She whispers. “I’m not.”

Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the sudden confession of why you are the way you’ve been. 

You kiss her, bringing your lips to hers. You sense her freeze, but she sighs softly after a moment. It ignites a fire in your chest, wanting nothing more than her close to you. 

You pull away, leaning your forehead on hers. You open your eyes first to see hers closed. 

“Sorry, I-”

“No,” Rosie cuts you off, cupping your face before kissing you again. 

Out of pure reflex, you pull Rosie on top of you, straddling your thighs as you wrap your arms around her waist. She lets out a small oomph, which you pause, but she continues moving her lips against yours. 

You dip your tongue in between her lips, earning a moan as she threads her fingers in your hair. A shiver goes down your spine as she tugs lightly, a move that turns you on immensely. Your cock stirs as her kisses become firmer, more sure. 

Rosie’s body starts to move. It’s subtle, but her hips slightly shift, causing you to pull away, groaning. 

“Chaeng,” You pant, hands gripping her waist to steady her. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” Rosie asks softly, chest heaving as she rests her forehead on yours. 

“No,” You kiss her on the nose. “You’re doing everything right. I just have to control myself,” You let out a breath. 

“Would it be the worst thing if you lost control?” Rosie murmurs, pecking you softly on the lips. 

The question goes straight to your cock. It doesn’t help that she’s seated right on top of it that you have to remember that this isn’t about you.

Yes is what you want to say because this is still new to her, and as lame as it sounds, like you actually care about her, you do want to make this enjoyable.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, loosening your grip. “But I don’t want to rush into it. Small steps right?”

“Right,” Rosie nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So what next?” 

“Uh,” Your brain’s short circuiting because all the blood in your body seems to have rushed south. “Maybe just rock your hips and see how it feels?”

“Like this?” She gently rolls herself over you, testing the waters. 

“Is it doing anything for you?” You grit out. 

“I’m not sure, let me try again,” She rolls her body again, but with a little more pressure that she moans softly. “That did.”

It definitely did something for you because your cock stiffens at the contact. 

“Just do what feels good for you,” Your head falls back as she repeats the motion, undulating her hips over your erection. “Yeah just like that,” You sigh, guiding her movements along your length. 

All you feel is Rosie. She’s wearing leggings, but the friction over your sweats overwhelms your senses. You act on impulse, kissing her again. She returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm, grinding down. 

You didn’t think dry humping would get you this worked up, but the small moans Rosie lets out against your lips has you hoping you don’t make a mess of yourself. 

“Fuck,” Rosie moans, tearing her lips off yours as her rhythm falters. 

It leaves her neck exposed, so you trail your lips along her chin, peppering soft bites that has her gripping your shoulders tightly. 

You feel her nails digging into your skin. Her pace quickens before her body suddenly seizes, jerking on top of you, as she moans loudly.

Fuck she’s coming. 

Doing what you can to prolong her orgasm, you rock up into her, hoping you’re hitting her clit at the right angle. Her body freezes, shaking that you didn’t have the reflex to control your own body before cumming into your sweats, groaning in the crook of her neck. 

You hadn’t had a visceral response like that in years, but that was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. The fact that Rosie got off by rubbing herself against you goes straight to your head. 

Rosie’s breathing heavily against you, playing with the hairs on your neck as you try to regulate your own breath. 

“I—fuck, I’m so sorry,” Rosie says softly, resting her butt on your thighs. 

“What?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you apologizing?” 

“I don’t know,” She buries her head into your neck. 

“That was hot,” You confess, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Her body shivers at the contact, causing you to smile.

“Really?” She sounds so unsure, that you don’t know how else to make her believe you. 

“Really,” You pull back to her, avoiding your gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, but she looks hot either way. 

Maybe it was the release of hormones after an orgasm that could be clouding your thoughts, but you find her so attractive at this moment that you want to kiss her again. 

“Did you, you know?” Rosie glances down, biting her lip. 

“Uh,” You force out a chuckle. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I should probably change.” 

“Right,” Rosie’s eyes stay looking at your crotch before she shakes her head. “Right,” She repeats and moves off your lap. 

“Give me a few and I’ll drive you home, okay?” You stand, placing a hand over the wet spot on the fabric. 

“You really don’t have to, I can call a car.”

“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” And just like that, it’s back to normal. 

“Yeah and you used me to cum, so,” She throws a pillow at you, which you easily dodge, laughing as you walk to your room. 

--

--

Can we meet tonight? 

The words glowing on your screen as you walk out of the building, just finished your last class of the day. 

It’s been about a week since Rosie asked you. You hadn’t seen her, but she occasionally sent you articles regarding sex and if you ever experienced such things. The one that had you almost drop your phone was if you ever made a girl squirt, which you haven’t, but you explained not all girls can. 

Instead of replying back with a message, you call her. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you? We can do take away,” You offer, walking in the direction of where she might be. 

“I’m in the music building with Jennie,” You immediately turn around to go the other direction. 

“Okay I’m on the way, I’ll be there in a little,” You hang up without waiting for her to respond. You’ll probably get a slap or two, but it’s not like it matters. 

By the time you reach the music building, Rosie and Jennie are outside, talking with another person. You can’t see who it is, but as you get closer, it’s Nayeon. 

Fuck. 

It wasn’t like Nayeon and you were on bad terms. You were always polite and treated her with the same respect you would like anyone else. It would just look suspicious to be walking alone with Rosie since she always made remarks about the weird feeling she got when you were in the same vicinity. She described it as unresolved sexual tension, but it never felt like that to you. 

“Oppa,” Jennie greets, her gummy smile forming as you walk up to them. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart between you and Rosie because of course she knows about the arrangement. 

“Hey,” You smile, waving awkwardly to Nayeon. 

Nayeon gives a small hi while Rosie slaps your shoulder, “That’s for hanging up on me.” 

“Okay,” You rub where she hit. “Ready to go?” You ask, reaching for Rosie’s bag without thinking. 

“Uh?” Jennie’s eyes widen while Nayeon’s narrow at the gesture. “How nice of you?” Rosie reluctantly hands over her bag. 

You don’t know what came over you because you definitely didn’t just carry a girl’s bag, which Nayeon was very aware of. She knew you only carried stuff for the girl you’re dating, something she experienced firsthand. 

“My way of saying sorry for hanging up on you,” You say smoothly. Her bag is heavy, which you hope they can’t tell you’re struggling.

“Nayeon was telling us about a party this weekend,” Jennie says. 

“It’s Mina’s birthday,” Nayeon says softly, eyes on you. “You should come if you’re free.” There’s a hopeful tone in her voice.

“Um,” You’re put on the spot, wracking your brain for any excuse, but Rosie saves you. 

“Don’t we have dinner with our parents? If we get back early enough, you could probably make it.”

You try to ignore the way Nayeon’s face falls, but you can’t ignore Jennie’s confusion since she obviously would’ve known. 

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” You play along. You hadn’t had a family dinner in months, but it was a somewhat believable excuse. “I’ll see if I can make it.” 

You listen as the girls say bye, Jennie opting to walk with Nayeon to catch up. When the two women leave, Rosie tries grabbing her bag back. 

“What’re you doing?” She huffs when you don’t let go. 

“I can carry my own bag, you know,” Rosie walks in front of you, clearly annoyed. 

“I know, but just let me do this for you.” 

“You’re most likely giving me an orgasm tonight, you’re doing enough,” Rosie rolls her eyes, attempting once again. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” 

“Fine, here,” Her comment pisses you off, but she has a point. The university playboy holding the bag of one of the most wanted girls on campus? That would surely be part of the gossip mill. You hand over the bag, a muttered thanks makes you roll your eyes. 

“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Rosie states. 

You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway. 

--

“Can you take your shirt off?” Rosie asks, out of breath, as you hover over her. 

“Uh yeah,” You lean back, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to the side before bringing your lips back to hers. 

That same show plays in the background, unopened food forgotten on the coffee table. The plan was to eat then fool around, but Rosie had something else in mind. 

“Okay don’t let this get to your head,” Rosie says against your lips, in between kisses, trailing a finger over your abdomen, “But you’re actually hot.” 

The muscles flex under her touch, that you pull her body to the edge of the couch cushion, “I know,” You smirk, dipping a hand underneath her blouse. “Is this okay?” You ask. 

“More than okay,” Rosie spreads her legs wider to let you rest in between. 

You grind yourself against the apex of her thighs, thankful she wore a skirt today. She moans as it spurs you on to do it again. Mimicking the motion of thrusting in and out of her has your imagination running wild as to what it will be like when you’re actually inside her. 

“Fuck,” Rosie grips your arms as you continue the motion. “Don’t stop.” 

You won’t until she cums, and her back arches as she rolls her hips down to meet your thrusts. After one particularly hard thrust, her body tenses and bingo. 

“There?” You breathe out as you hit the same spot again. She nods, as you watch her face scrunch up. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yeah,” Her eyes open, gaze locked in between your legs. “Fuck, Jennie was right. You’re huge.”

As if your ego couldn’t get any bigger. You’re sure she felt just how big you were last week, but she most likely didn’t see it. It probably didn’t help that you were wearing sweats that accentuated your size. 

“Thanks,” You grunt, too focused on her pleasure and your own. 

You flip her skirt up, mouth watering at the sight of her choice in lingerie. A simple lavender thong with a small bow at the waistband has your hips rutting into her faster. 

“Fuck you’re so hot,” You bite your lip, head thrown back as she moans louder. 

“I think I’m—oh shit,” Rosie’s body tenses in your hands, back arching as her orgasm washes over her. You feel her clit pulse through your sweats that you continue grinding against her. 

You’re more composed this time and don’t prematurely cum. However, your cock hurts from not having a release. You’ll likely just suffer through it and deal with your problem after you drop her off. 

You don’t move from your position, keeping the pressure of Rosie’s cloth-covered pussy against you. You might not get to cum, but it still feels nice. After a few minutes of her regulating her breathing and you thinking of everything not related to fucking her, she smiles up at you. You return the smile, tickling her skin that she squirms in your hold. 

“Stop!” She slaps your arm. “You know I’m ticklish.” 

“I know,” You fold over, resting your head on her stomach. “Was that okay?” Her skirt hasn’t moved, and you’re trying very hard not to touch her there. 

“Yeah, that was… something,” Rosie sighs, placing her hand lazily on your head, lightly scratching. “Can you do something else since we’re already here?” 

“Sure, what?” You look up to Rosie biting her lip. 

“Can you touch me?” Rosie asks softly, adding, “Like down there?” 

Your palm twitches at the request, hell, your cock twitches too. 

“Uh, yeah,” You push yourself up, kneeling in between her legs. They try to close, but with how you’re positioned, it doesn’t go very far. “Just let me know if anything hurts, I’ll stop.”

Rosie nods, giving you the signal to do something. What you really wanted to do was find out how she tastes, but you tuck that thought away for another time. There will be a time in the future where that’ll happen. 

You reach under her skirt, gently pulling the fabric down. She kicks it away, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.

You’re fucked. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of her. Your gaze must’ve made her nervous because she quickly covers herself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back. 

“No, no,” Rosie shakes her head, crossing her legs. “I’m just nervous.”

“Hey,” You move to sit next to her. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“Can we go to your room?” Rosie offers weakly, which you nod, standing, extending a hand out. She gives you a small smile, taking it before you pull her up. She stumbles a little, but you’re there to catch her. “Lead the way?” 

You guide Rosie to your room, nerves prickling at you because no woman has ever been in your room except Nayeon. You had a strict rule of sleeping with women at their place, never yours. Rosie notices your hesitation when you stand in the doorway, asking if you were okay. 

“Um, this is going to sound bad, but the last woman that was in my bed was Nayeon,” You say quietly, letting go of Rosie’s hand. 

“That’s okay?” Rosie says unsurely. “If it’s too much for you, we can go back to the couch.” 

You shake your head. It isn’t that big of a deal, you were probably overthinking it. “No, it’s okay. I just felt like telling you that,” Which was true. You wanted to tell Rosie that, even though there wasn’t a reason to. 

Rosie kisses your shoulder softly before walking around you towards your bed. She slips underneath the comforter, which you follow right after her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” You prop your head on your hand, staring at her as she looks at the ceiling. 

“Yeah I’m okay, more than okay. It just feels…” Rosie trails off, pouting a little as she tries to find the words. She looks pretty cute like this, but you immediately shake that thought away. You aren’t supposed to be having thoughts like that when this whole situation was transactional. “Intimate, I guess. To be in your bed like this.” 

“I suppose so.” 

“But yeah let’s keep going,” Rosie glances at you before turning to face you. “How should we…?”

A question pops into your mind, “Have you ever touched yourself?” 

“Err, yes?” 

“What does that mean?” You chuckle.

“I guess I have. I’ve never gotten off on my own though. I’ve put a finger inside myself, but it felt weird so I just stopped,” Rosie blushes, turning away. 

“Uncomfortable?” You ask softly, bringing your hand to rest on her stomach. 

“I guess? I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” Rosie mumbles. 

“Let me, yeah?” You move so you’re sitting up, back against the headboard. “Come here, sit in between my legs.” 

Rosie complies, settling in between your legs as she lays against your chest. You kiss the crown of her head, sliding your arms around her body. 

Now this feels intimate, and oddly feels right to be with her like this. Again, you shake that feeling away, reminding yourself that this is just sex. 

A finger traces down her stomach aimlessly, hoping it relaxes her. She sighs contentedly before resting her head on your shoulder. You kiss her neck, and she giggles. 

“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly. 

“But in a good way right?” You murmur, bringing your hand lower. Her legs automatically widen and her breath hitches as you apply light pressure on her hip bone. 

“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, shifting against your cock. 

“Good. You trust me right?” You dip your hand in between her legs, resting on her pubis. Her hands find your thighs to hold on to, nodding. 

You swipe a finger in between her folds, slowly, and she’s absolutely soaked. Your cock twitches at how wet she is. You’re sure you’re leaking into the fabric of your sweats. 

“You’re wet,” You don’t recognize your voice. 

“I’m sorry?” Rosie moans as you swipe through again, gently brushing over her clit. 

“No, it’s fucking hot,” You murmur and her nails scratch at your skin. “So fucking hot.” 

You repeat the motion a few times, eliciting soft moans as she squirms against you. Your other hand carefully unbuttons her blouse, and when the last button comes undone, you cup her breast, squeezing lightly. 

“You’re being a tease,” You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly as she drops her head down. 

“Just making you feel comfortable,” You chuckle as you swipe down, dipping your index finger inside. 

“Oh shit,” Rosie throws her head back when you pull your finger out. 

Your finger circles her entrance slowly as her legs spread wider. This position isn’t the best and you’ll likely strain your wrist, but you couldn’t care less about yourself at the moment. You insert your finger in again, but this time, you don’t pull out, letting your finger rest inside her. 

You imagine your cock inside her, stretching her out. Your cock literally aches to be inside her because if this was how she felt—tight, warm, wet—you’d bust. 

“Move,” Rosie commands through gritted teeth, her hips rolling down to get more of you inside her. 

“So impatient,” You whisper, biting her skin softly. “It’s like you want me or something.” 

“Oh fuck you,” Rosie’s nails digging into your skin as you start to move. 

“You will,” Your voice comes out low, slowly moving in and out of her slick. “Not tonight,” Unfortunately, “But you will.” 

“You’re so—fuck,” Rosie chokes on her words when your palm brushes over her clit, the penetration overstimulating her. 

You smirk, freeing your hand from her chest and bringing hers under yours, “Touch yourself.”

Rosie easily obliges, rubbing her fingers over her clit as you begin pumping a smidge closer. Her pussy’s still tight, but her body’s slowly welcoming the intrusion. Based on the blissed-out expression on her face, eyes closed, she’s biting her lip. 

“Don’t be shy Rosie,” You kiss behind her ear, “Let me hear you.” 

Her eyes open, and the lust is there. She moans louder as her fingers move faster, causing you to match her pace. Your cock aches, wanting some sort of relief that your hips lightly thrust against her backside. 

“Fuck,” Is all you can say because you want to fuck Rosie, especially with how her walls are squeezing your fingers.

“Cum,” You say simply and she does.

Her body spasms, back arching as she presses her butt directly on your cock. She lets out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard, drawn out as her free hand reaches for your neck. Her walls aren’t letting your fingers move, so you opt to gently move them to prolong her orgasm.

After a minute, or two, Rosie falls limp in your hold, her arms flailing over your thighs. You slowly pull your fingers out, peering over her shoulder to see her slick. A nasty thought comes to you, and you bringing your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them to see what she tastes like, and dear fuck you want it directly from the source. 

“You’re fucking gross,” Rosie pants softly, weakly lifting her arm to swat your hand away. 

“You wanna taste yourself?” You brush your finger against her lips, and she makes a disgusted face. “Eh, if not now, later.”

Rosie tries to sit up, but she falls back into your chest, resting her head on your shoulder as you bring your arms around her stomach. You kiss her neck, murmuring, “Was that okay?” 

“It was great,” Rosie nods slowly, turning her head slightly to kiss your cheek. “Thanks for that. I see the appeal in it now.”

You chuckle, chest vibrating against her body, “Yeah sex is pretty great.” 

“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.

“Uh,” You’re still hard, which you hoped Rosie was too blissed out to notice. “Let me just shower first and I’ll take you home.” A cold shower was needed. You’ll probably give yourself relief when you get home, but you don’t think you’ll be able to survive the drive. 

“Okay,” Rosie yawns again, “But can we stay here for a few more minutes?” 

“Of course.”

Rosie sighs contentedly, snuggling into your chest. You typically didn’t cuddle after, but with her, it felt warranted. You wouldn’t say it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong. You were comfortable doing this with her, and you hadn’t felt that since Nayeon. 

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed Rosie. Child-you would be happy to spend time with her, but adult-you knows what this is—sex. A knot forms in your stomach at the thought, but your rational side knew you  and her weren’t ever going to be together. 

Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.

“I’ll give you some clothes to wear,” You offer, nuzzling your chin into her. 

“They’ll give you shit, you know that right?” Referring to her friends.

“Tell Jennie she never got anything from me,” You quip, earning a light slap on your leg. “What! She didn’t!” 

“Stop talking about my friend who you’ve slept with after you just gave me two orgasms,” You didn’t need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck. 

Rosie laughs, a sweet airy laugh that has your heart fluttering, and you think that it’s a sound you’d want to hear more often. 

--

--

Someone ruffles your hair as you’re zoned in on finishing this expense report and you hear laughter behind you. 

“What the fuck,” You pull your headphones out to see the offender. 

Rosie. 

With Lisa right behind her. 

“Sorry,” Lisa peeks her head over Rosie, “You just looked too focused that I wanted to mess with you.” 

“What do you two want?” Your eyes narrow as Rosie smiles. It eases your irritation, but still.

“Figured we’d say hello. Chaeng saw you, but didn’t want to disturb you. I, however, did,” Lisa answers, stepping forward. There’s a shit-eating grin on her face. 

“Hey,” Rosie says softly. “I’m sorry. I told her not to.” 

“It’s okay,” You shrug, checking your watch. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, eyes darting to Rosie, who slaps the back of her head. “Ow.”

“I have a game with Yoongi in about an hour.” 

“Oh we should watch!” Lisa nudges Rosie, who rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

Rosie gives you a look, as if she’s waiting for you to invite her yourself. You smile, giving a small nod. 

“Okay fine,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head, but she smiles at you anyways. 

“Are you good oppa? I’ve seen Yoongi play, and he’s pretty good,” Lisa asks as you start to pack your stuff. 

“I guess you’ll see,” You didn’t like talking about yourself. You considered yourself decent, but there would always be someone better. 

When you finish, you decide you wanted to tease Rosie. You wait until Lisa’s a few feet away, leaning forward, “I’m usually pretty riled up after a game, so I hope you’ll come over after.” 

The blush on Rosie’s face has you grinning, which gets even wider when she gives you a small nod.

--

“I don’t get why you do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, mouth full of mandu. 

“Say you’re not good, but then score twenty points like it’s nothing.”

“So you were keeping track?” You smirk, reaching for another mandu on the table with your chopsticks. 

“No, Yoongi told me after the game,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms as she slouches into the couch. 

“It’s okay if you did, I’m flattered you paid that much attention to me.” That earns you a slap, but you couldn’t care. You played the whole game so you were starving. 

You’re back at yours, just hanging out. You really had no intention of doing anything with Rosie tonight, even if you did tease her about being riled up. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you enjoy spending time with her as of lately. 

Lisa gave you a thumbs up when Rosie told her she’d be leaving with you. No one seemed to notice when you two walked out together, but Yoongi did text you asking where you went since the team usually went out after. 

“I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“Do you ever feel frustrated after we you know?” 

“Uh,” The question catches you off guard. 

It’s been two days since, and you can admit it was a struggle after feeling her cum on your fingers. You thought about having sex with someone to give you some relief, but that thought had the knot in your stomach tightening. 

“Frustrated in the sense I need to release,” You answer honestly, but quickly followed up with, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I took care of it.” The tips of your ears burned at the implication.

Rosie sighs next to you, shaking her head, “Okay can I be honest?” 

“Uh of course?” 

“I feel bad,” You were about to bite into the last mandu, but you stopped. “I feel like you’re always making me feel good, but I feel like I’m doing nothing in return.”

You place the mandu back in the box, dropping your chopsticks with it. 

“Believe me you are,” The memory of Rosie’s face as her orgasm hit was something that could not be forgotten. 

“But it doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands up dramatically. “I haven’t even seen your you know yet.”

“Oh my god,” You chuckle. “Just say it. It’s not a bad word.” 

“Cock?”

“No.”

“Penis?”

“No.”

This conversation is getting nowhere. 

“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.

“Only if you say cock,” You raise an eyebrow. 

“No.”

“Then no cock for you,” You poke her nose after she huffs, hitting your leg. 

After a minute, Rosie shoves her face into your chest. She mumbles something that you can’t quite make out, asking her to repeat. 

“Cock,” Rosie says quietly, rubbing her face deeper from embarrassment. 

“Was that so hard?” You smile, kissing her head. “Do you really want me to ‘take it out’ as you so eloquently put it?” 

“Yeah,” Rosie mumbles, and you swear there’s a pout. 

“You do it,” You offer, shifting slightly to wrap an arm around her. “No pressure Chaeng. Do whatever you feel is right and if anything hurts me, I’ll tell you.”

Rosie shyly asks if you could move to your bed, which you happily oblige. You swoop her in her arms, causing her to scream and slap your chest the whole way to your room. You laugh as she curses at you, but it’s fun for you and you know she thinks it is too. 

“You’re annoying,” Rosie comments after you drop her on the bed. “Literally the most annoying person I know. How do girls put up with you?” 

“I can think of a few ways that make up for it,” You sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 

“Arrogant too,” Rosie adds, shifting her body so she’s next to you. 

Neither of you say anything while you’re sitting. You’re trying to think of how to guide Rosie while she stares at the floor. An idea pops into your mind, as you scoot until your back is pressed against the headboard. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Seduce me,” You say simply, patting the space next to you. Her eyebrows furrow, but she’s right back next to you in no time. 

“How?” 

“We’ve done a few things together, I’m sure you could figure it out.” It wouldn’t take much to turn you on. Your control slips every time Rosie’s over that your body has a mind of its own. 

She could kiss you and you’d be hard, as embarrassing as that is.

“Um okay,” Rosie bites her lip as she looks at you. 

You smile, winking even, that makes her roll her eyes. 

Rosie leans forward, kissing you softly on the lips. You keep your hands still, but your lips move easily against hers. She lets out a small moan when you dip your tongue into her mouth. Her arms circle around your neck, pulling you closer.

The blood in your body rushes south, waking your cock as Rosie presses against you. Kissing her has become one of your favorite things even if you’ve only done less than a handful of times. As someone who has had a healthy sex life, it’s scary how easily your body reacts to her.

She detaches her lips, placing soft kisses along your jawline. You let her, relaxing into the headboard as your eyes close.

A groan escapes from your lips when Rosie places her hand over your crotch. 

“What?” She pulls back, a concerned look etched on her face. Her hand doesn’t move though. 

“Nothing, you’re doing great,” You take a breath, “Just caught me off guard.” 

Rosie makes a sound, but goes back to kissing your face. Her hand starts to move, palming your cock over your sweats.

Your body immediately reacts, hardening underneath her touch. She smirks against your neck, “Well hello.” 

You laugh, shaking your head before kissing her sweetly on her forehead, “It’s a bodily reaction, what do you expect?”

“I think your body likes me,” Rosie brings her lips to yours before sitting straight. In a swift move, she swings her leg over you, cupping your face and bringing you in a bruising kiss, not giving you a chance to answer.

You instinctively rest your hands on her waist, pulling her body flushed against yours. She lets out a moan as your grip tightens. 

You’re too lost in the kiss to notice Rosie sneaking her hand in between. Her fingers brush against the waistband of your sweats, abdomen tightening at her touch. You mumble a pathetic please because all she’s doing is riling you up. She smirks against your lips, dipping her hand to actually touch you. 

Your head’s spinning and your hips involuntarily thrust into her hand. Given the space, it’s a little tight, but Rosie’s hand wrapped around you has your control slipping faster than before. You pull your sweats down so you’re fully free.

“Is this okay?” Rosie asks in between kisses as she slowly moves her hand up and down your length.

“Fuck yes,” You groan, detaching your lips from hers as your head falls backs. 

Her hand’s soft, velvet-like, as she strokes you. You’re almost scared to look down because you feel yourself leaking as she cups the tip. She tentatively spreads it over you, that it’s making you lose your mind. 

You open your eyes to Rosie intently staring at her ministrations, her tongue slightly peaking out. 

“You can squeeze a little, but—ow shit!” Your hand shoots out, holding her wrist as you gasp. 

“Oh my god,” Rosie automatically lets go, “I’m so sorry!” 

You cough, catching your breath. You’re already sensitive, but it felt like Rosie was about to rip your dick off. “I’m fine,” You cough again, “Just a little lighter.” 

“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away. 

You place your hand over hers, together enclosing over your cock. “Like this,” You slowly move her hand under yours, applying enough pressure. Her hand’s smaller than yours, so she can’t completely fit around your girth. 

“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly. 

“Good,” You nod, eyes rolling back as you let go of her hand. “So good.” 

Rosie experiments with her grip and pace for a while, going faster at times while squeezing the right amount that has you seeing stars. You’re too focused on her hand that you don’t notice her move off your lap. 

Something warm envelopes your cock and your eyes shoot open to Rosie’s mouth around the head. 

“Fuck,” You grip the bedsheet, nearly tearing it off. “Give me a warning next time,” You moan. 

“Sorry,” Your cock fucking pops out of her mouth as she continues to stroke you, “It seemed warranted. Too much?” 

“Not enough,” Your abdomen tenses as she engulfs you again, going farther down your length. 

Her tongue licks your tip as you watch her cheeks hollow out. You're mesmerized as she moves her head up and down your length, and each time she gets lower. 

“Has anyone ever deepthroated you?” Rosie asks, catching her breath, but her hands don’t remain idle. 

“Uh,” You barely hear her question, “I don’t know,” You couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else at the moment, but if she wants to try, you’ll let her. 

“Can I try?” Rosie places a sweet kiss on the tip, making a face as a smidge of precum gets on her lip. 

“By all means,” Your eyes roll back. Your hand itches to hold onto her head, but you’re scared of forcing her to take more than she can. 

Rosie’s lips are around you once again, and the tip hits the back of her throat. There’s a sharp inhale, and you’re not sure if it’s from her or you, but that doesn’t deter her. 

“Chaeng,” You grit out and your hand moves to the back of her head, threading your fingers in her hair. You don’t push down, but her throat relaxes and takes you all the way. “Fuck,” Your fingers fist through her locks, keeping her there until her finger taps on your thigh. 

You immediately let go, and she comes off your cock, a slight dribble of drool on her chin. 

“How was that?” Rosie smirks. 

“Either make me cum or fuck off,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her that she doesn’t reply, instead taking you down her throat once more, swallowing around your length that you cum without warning. 

You try to pull her off as your release shoots down her throat, but she’s adamant to take all of you. Your eyes roll back when she swallows, the pressure becoming too much as your hips thrust up into her mouth. 

Rosie’s mouth is dangerous, and you’re thanking whatever deity for her skills. You’ve had your fair share of blow jobs, but she’s number one in your book. You’re definitely never going to tell her because practice makes perfect, and you know she’s a perfectionist. It might be a little selfish, but you’ll gladly be willing to take whatever she gives you until this is over. 

Once your orgasm and she’s drained you for all that you’ve had, your hand relaxes, dropping to the side. She slowly comes off your cock, overly sensitive, but she licks the underside and that has your head spinning. 

“So,” Rosie sits in between your legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How was I?”

You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you weakly get out, “There’s always room for improvement.”

“Really?” Rosie raises an eyebrow, eyeing your now-soft cock. “I drained you in less than fifteen minutes.” 

“I’ve been pent up,” You mumble, eyes closing. “I blame you.”

“Just admit you think I’m hot,” Rosie’s suddenly hovering over you, hair tickling your face. 

“Move your hair,” You try to push her off, but you’re bone dead. Playing a game followed by this has your body exhausted. 

“Admit it,” Rosie kisses your lips, a slight tang on them. “I did,” She adds. 

You groan, wrapping an arm around her so she’s fully on top of you, “Why do you need to hear that?” You know she knows you think so. 

“Cause,” She kisses you again, leaving her lips on yours.

“Cause what?” You sigh, lazily moving your lips against hers. 

Rosie’s tongue dips into your mouth, short circuiting your brain before murmuring, “Cause it’s you.”

Your eyes feel heavy, wanting to pass out and you actually might. Something washes over you before your body shuts down. You don’t know why, but you tell her, “You’re not hot, you’re beautiful,” before sleep takes over completely.

(You wake up a few hours later, alone, but not without a note on your nightstand, groaning at Rosie’s cursive— 

Thanks handsome guy <3 see you around. 

ps I called a car, and before you beat yourself up, it’s okay)

--

--

It’s stupid. 

You’re stupid. 

A fool, some might say.

You’re calling yourself a fool. 

What compels you to be at Rosie’s apartment door, waiting, holding a bouquet of roses, without even asking if she’s home, is beyond you. 

It’s a risky move, the longer you wait for her—or anyone for that matter—to open the door. 

You immediately felt guilty waking up to Rosie’s note. You didn’t even return the favor, and you’ve been wanting to. In your mind, showing up at her place, uninvited, with flowers, was a way to make it up to her before asking if she wanted to come over so you could thoroughly make it up to her. 

The door swings open and it’s Lisa, clothes wrinkled and hair all over the place. You don’t comment on it because you know something’s going on between her and Jennie, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Instead you ask, “Hey, sorry to bother, but is Rosie in?” 

Lisa smiles, and your face falls, the answer doesn’t need to be said, but she invites you in anyways. 

You don’t know why you just don’t leave, but you enter their apartment, slipping off your shoes while awkwardly holding the flowers. 

“Here, let me take those.” They’re out of your hands before you could respond. “Make yourself at home.”

You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly when there was a party or someone needed a ride home, but it feels off being here. 

Or does it feel that way because she wasn’t here? 

You follow Lisa to the living room, seeing Jennie seated on the couch in the same disheveled appearance. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s you here, but she doesn’t say anything except for a polite hello. 

Neither of the women say anything, but Lisa prepares the flowers in the vase. You stare at the coffee table, trying to find any words to explain why you’re here. 

“So what brings you here?” Jennie asks a question she knows the answer to. 

“Uh, I thought Rosie would be in,” You answer, scratching the back of your head. You notice the silent exchange between the two, but the sad smile that forms on Jennie’s face says enough. 

“She’s out at the moment,” Jennie bites her lip, thinking of what to say. “She should be back in an hour or so. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” You sigh, realizing just how stupid it was for you to show up. Your thoughts stray that she’s out with Soohyun, but that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“She’s having dinner with Soohyun,” Lisa says and you watch Jennie’s eyes narrow, rolling her eyes. 

“Lisa.”

“What? He should know,” The woman shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal. 

And it’s not. 

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. 

“Rosie can do whatever she likes,” It comes out harsher than you intended, but you’re feeling something that you don’t want to acknowledge. You stand, “I should get going. Uh, you guys can keep those. No need to tell her that’s for her. Sorry they’re not blue Jen,” You add, knowing those are her favorite. 

Jennie gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head, “You’re sweet, you know that right?” 

“Sure,” You shrug, walking towards the door. “Sorry to bother you both,” You bow after slipping your shoes on.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Jennie asks, meeting you by the door. 

“Yeah, it’s okay. Please don’t tell her,” There’s a fifty-fifty chance Rosie would find out, odds being Lisa telling her where the roses came from. 

“Why not? It’s sweet you brought her flowers.”

“I don’t really have a reason as to why,” You do have a reason, but you’re not sure how much Rosie shares with them. 

Jennie looks like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press you anymore, nodding. “See you at Mina’s?” 

“Maybe,” You answer vaguely, remembering that you actually have to see your parents this weekend sans the Parks. “I have a business meeting with my parents, so I doubt I’ll make it back in time.” 

“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow. 

“No, just me, so I’ll be in Seong-buk,” You grimace at the thought of having to sit in this, but your father’s adamant it’s good exposure for you. 

“Well I hope you can make it,” Jennie reassures, hugging you briefly before taking a step back. 

“You’ll see me if I do,” You wink. “Thanks again Jen.”

Once the door shuts, you sigh. You couldn’t believe you showed up at Rosie’s place, unannounced. What were you expecting? You’re still not entirely sure, but you’re disappointed nonetheless. It’s almost been two weeks since this arrangement started and you’re scared you’re getting attached. You’ve had longer flings and felt zero attachment to them. 

You question why it feels different, and you toy with the idea of joining Jungkook in Hongdae to remind yourself that you don’t get attached. A wave of guilt passes through you, which you’re torn on what you should do. 

“Fuck it,” You mumble to the empty hallway. 

--

You hear the door knock and pause the show you’ve been sort of watching with Rosie. You’d rather drown in the river than admit you actually like this show. 

You aren’t expecting anyone except the food delivery, so you are surprised when you open the door to see Rosie. 

“Uh hey?” You greet. One look at her and you know she’s upset based on the fire in her eyes. 

“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out. 

Great. Fucking Lisa. 

You aren’t given the chance to ask anything as she barges through the door. You turn around once the door’s shut, and she’s seething. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Why the fuck did you show up at my place?”

“Drop off flowers for Jennie and Lisa,” You answer noncommittally, crossing your arms as you lean against the door. 

“Bullshit. Tell me why,” Rosie steps forward, invading your space. Her perfume makes you dizzy, but you can’t dwell on it too much since she looks like she’s about five seconds away from ripping your head off. 

“What do you want me to say?” You deflect. You didn’t want to get into the reason why—the actual reason—that had you take the train back to yours instead of a club. 

“The fucking truth!” She throws her hands up dramatically, shaking her head. 

“I came over because I wanted to make it up to you for completely knocking out last night, happy?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door and walking past her. 

“No, I’m not—hey! Get back here, I’m still talking to you,” Rosie’s hand encloses over your wrist. 

The move forces you to turn around, reflexively pulling her into you so that you’re face-to-face. 

“Don’t,” Your voice comes out low. “I’m being honest. Your turn now, why are you here?” 

“Because,” Rosie tries to get out of your grasp, but it’s futile. “As soon as I get home, Lisa fucking singsongs that you dropped by with flowers to see me. Then she told me she mentioned to you that I was out with Soohyun.”

You let go, dropping her hand completely before taking a step back. Hearing his name makes you sick, but you refuse to admit why. 

“How was that?” You ask, tired, because you knew what you signed up for. 

“Do you really want to know?” Rosie crosses her arms, glaring. 

“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”

“It was good. He’s funny. He’s polite, offered to pay the bill, and walked me to the door,” Each word digs at you, but you don’t let it show. “He wanted to come in to say hello to the girls, but I told him I just wanted to sleep. He asked me out again.”

“And? Is there going to be a second date?” 

“Yes,” Rosie says flatly. 

“Good, happy for you,” You hoped you sounded as detached as possible. “Now you still didn’t answer why you’re here if you ‘just wanted to sleep’?” 

“Because I’ve been fucking frustrated since last night,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I would be, but you fucking fell asleep. I tried dealing with it myself, but that made it worse.” 

All you’re imagining is Rosie, in her bed, touching herself, which has you immediately hard. But you’re a little ticked off at the moment to fully enjoy that imagery.

“Why didn’t you ask Soohyun to help you?” It’s a low blow, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Rosie pushes you, like actually pushes you, with enough force to move. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Rosie seethes out, turning to walk out. “I planned on coming over after the dinner for you to take care of the problem you created.”

You’re faster, grabbing her arm to pull her body flush against yours. 

“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper. 

“Fuck you,” Rosie struggles to get out from your hold, but you have one arm securely wrapped around her waist. 

“I don’t think we’re there yet,” You murmur, “But there is something I still haven’t done.” 

“I’m mad at you,” Rosie ignores your suggestion. 

“If I do what I want to do, I promise you won’t be mad.”

“Doubtful,” Rosie pouts, relaxing into your embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” You mean it.

“I’m still mad,” She huffs, burying her face into your chest. 

“Let me make it up to you,” You tilt her head up, forcing her to look at you. “Please?” 

“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”

You freeze, vividly remembering the rules you set in place that she wouldn’t sleep over. 

“Our rules?” 

“You broke the first one by coming over without telling me,” She reasons. 

“Do you want to spend the night?” You ask nervously. You hadn’t spent the night with a girl since Nayeon. Every time you had sex, you’d leave before they woke up, or right after. 

“Yes,” Rosie rocks on her tiptoes to kiss you briefly, wrapping her arms around your neck. “It makes things easier for us.” 

“Can I still bring you home in the morning?” You ask shyly, looking away. 

“You better,” Rosie smiles. “I’m still mad though.” 

You roll your eyes, using your strength to pick her up, wrapping her legs around your waist, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

Rosie squeals, hitting your shoulder as you carry her towards your room. “Don’t drop me!” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, as you kick the door open, “You’re fine, trust me.”

You do drop her on the bed and Rosie huffs as she sprawls out on the bed. You take in her appearance—a simple black dress that falls mid-thigh with her hair half-up. She’s beautiful, but you won’t say it out loud—even though you feel like you’ve told her. 

“You’re staring,” Rosie comments, resting on her elbows, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“Can you blame me?” You drop to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” You ask softly, locking eyes with her.

“Yes,” And that’s all you need.

— 

You wake up slowly, yawning and stretching. Your arm hits a body, causing you to almost jump when you notice a body’s pressed to your side. You remember that Rosie stayed the night after spending a good amount of time and effort in between her legs. 

She had physically yanked you away from overstimulation, but it was worth it. The sounds she made along with how she tasted was something you wanted to do again. You barely scratched the surface, but you were addicted. 

You had to give her credit because she came three times. You tried to go for a fourth, but she mustered enough strength to kick you away. You wouldn’t let up until she wasn’t mad anymore. By the second orgasm, she wasn’t, but you had to make sure. 

When you were done, cleaning up the mess you made, you kissed her softly as she laid limply on the bed. “Thanks,” She mumbled, sighing contentedly as she played with the hairs on the back of your neck. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” 

“I know,” You smirked, kissing her again before laying your head on the pillow. 

Rosie wanted to return the favor, but you shook your head, embarrassed to share that you were touching yourself while eating her out. She found out anyway because you couldn’t lie to her. It went straight to her head, teasing you that you couldn’t help yourself. She kissed the pout away before falling asleep. 

You check the clock on your nightstand, “Fuck,” You mutter, stirring Rosie awake. 

“What’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice comes out hoarse, slightly turning her body. 

It’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished looking over the reports and proposals your father sent over last night. 

“I’m so sorry,” You sit up, shaking your head in frustration. “I would make you breakfast, but I have to review some things for tonight.” 

“What’s tonight?” You watch her rub her eyes, and you can’t help but think how cute she is. 

“I have a business dinner with my parents.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” You trail off. 

“Do you want me to go with you? I’d just have to stop by my place to change, but I can go,” Rosie offers, turning as she pulls the blanket over her. 

Your heart flutters. If there’s anyone that knows your parents, it’s Rosie. She’s known them since you were kids, seeing just how much pressure was put on you being their only child. It sucked a lot when things changed, but you couldn’t dwell on it that much. You were just trying to appease what they wanted, even though you knew it would never be enough. 

“Alice is home too,” Rosie adds when you don’t respond. “I can just hang out with her until you’re done.” 

“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to impose on her plans for the day. 

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Rosie sits up, the blanket falling slightly down her body. You glance and remember she was wearing one of your shirts that was a little too big on her. “Mina’s party is later, so we could go after if you need to blow off steam.”

“We’ll see how I feel,” You scoff, knowing exactly how you’d feel after. “But thanks Chaeng, it means a lot.” 

“Eh, I know how they are, so,” Rosie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. She rests her head on your shoulder, laying an arm along your stomach. “I’m sorry it hasn’t gotten any better.” 

“It’s okay,” You say a little too quickly, but she doesn’t press the issue, snuggling deeper into your side. “Thanks,” You mumble. 

“You could always do whatever you want, they’d come around,” Rosie suggests, tracing a finger up and down your abdomen. 

“Yeah, like being a photographer would make enough money for them. They’d see it as a hobby, which it is, not as a career,” You say bitterly, shaking your head at the memory of when you suggested it that one time. 

“Well you could always take pictures of me, and you know, I know people in fashion that could see your portfolio.”

“Chaeng, you’ve done enough for me,” You’re shocked that she’d even offer this. You knew that she had connections, but she worked hard for those. It would feel wrong to actually take her up on it. 

“You’ve also done enough for me,” She pokes your cheek. “Just think about it, the offer’s there.”

You don’t know what to say. You deflect with humor and sarcasm because it’s what you know, especially with her, “Careful, it sounds like you actually like me or something.”

“Oh fuck off,” Rosie slaps your chest, giggling. 

She doesn’t confirm or deny it. You’re left wondering if she ever could. 

--

The car’s silent except for the music Rosie asked—demanded—to play, connecting her phone before you could say yes. You’re on your way back to the city, finished with the business meeting with your parents and some overseas executive who brought his daughter too. 

You were completely blindsided. It was a business meeting disguised as a fucking introduction to a ‘potential’ wife that your parents shamelessly arranged on your behalf. You weren’t that much of an ass to be completely rude to the girl—Kazuha—who also didn’t want to be there. She flat out told you what the meeting was, which you appreciated her honesty.

Nakamura Kazuha was pretty, an innocent air around her that would have you interested if it was under normal circumstances. Your parents coincidentally left you alone for a bit to get to know each other, and she seemed like a great person. She was shy, but polite. She was funny, in a quiet sort of way where you had to be paying attention. 

Kazuha told you she had a boyfriend that she wanted to be with; however, her parents didn’t approve. It was a point of contention because it wasn’t like Satoshi was a bad person, he just didn’t meet the standards they had—in other words, not wealthy.

You shared that same sentiment, explaining your last relationship with Nayeon and how she was a great person, but you knew your parents would never approve. 

“Who was that girl you dropped off?” Kazuha asked once dinner was over. Your parents off to the wine cellar. 

What? 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Kazuha smiled. “We arrived the same time you did and I saw you walk a girl to the house next door.”

“Oh uh that’s Rosie,” You answered vaguely. 

“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?” 

“What? No, she’s just a friend,” You rushed out, but Kazuha wasn’t dumb. She could tell that you weren’t just friends. 

“Interesting. I don’t know many guys who walk friends to the door, but,” She shrugged, “It’s none of my business. That’s sweet of you though.” 

When you only nodded, she smiled again, moving on to talk about other things. The thought of her observation struck a chord, causing you to dwell on it for the rest of the evening. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rosie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

“Do you want to hear about it?” 

“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery. 

You tell her everything. 

How the meeting wasn’t actually business for your parents. How they purposely set you and Kazuha up. How your father tricked you into preparing for something that was already signed. How your mother boldly asked when you and Kazuha would see each other next—when she lived in another country. How you were pissed and irritated and upset. How you were just tired of it. 

“I mean, fuck, at this rate, I might as well just go along with it because every single choice is made for me,” You hit the wheel while stopped at a redlight. 

“Hey,” Rosie coos, reaching for your hand, the tension melting away from your touch. “Don’t say that.”

“Well it’s not like I have any other fucking choice, unless I end up with someone who’s as rich or richer than my family, they’ll never approve. I’m literally setting up my future wife for a lifetime of disapproval. Look at Minjun, his wife hardly even attends family gatherings,” You scoff. 

You saw firsthand how your cousin’s marriage was affected by someone your family deemed ‘not good enough’. You also admired how Minjun stayed with his wife when everyone, even you, said not too because it wasn’t worth the headache. 

Rosie tugs your hand to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face, “Well then you just haven’t met that somebody yet.”

“How can I when I’m literally getting put into arranged marriages at this point?” You sigh, tired from the dinner. 

“You will, I’m sure of it,” She squeezes your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re smart. You’re kind. And don’t let it get to your head, but you are good-looking. Anyone who gets to be with you would be lucky.” 

Your ears burn from her compliments. The comment of your looks does go to your head, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Thanks,” You mumble shyly, looking away as you start driving. 

“Are we going to Mina’s?” Rosie asks, keeping your hand on her lap. 

The use of we has you confused. 

“Uh, I was just going to drop you off and stay in. I don’t feel very social anymore. I’m still worked up,” You roll your eyes, turning right onto Mina’s street. 

Rosie squeezes your hand, her thumb rubbing your skin, “Are you sure? It could help you get your mind off things.”

“The only thing that would get my mind off anything is I fuck someone,” You say crassly. 

“I’m right here,” Rosie lets go of your hand, huffing.

“Yeah but I have a bit of aggression at the moment. I can’t exactly take you roughly,” You pull up to the curb, a few houses down from Mina’s. 

“And why not?” Rosie unbuckles her seat belt, crossing her legs on the seat to face you. 

“You think really low of me if I’d have your first time be like that,” You reason, rolling your shoulders as you shut the car off. 

Could you imagine taking Rosie roughly? Absolutely. You know how flexible she is, and you could have fun with her body if she gives you enough time with her. You wanted to prolong this arrangement because time’s running out. You weren’t sure if it would be a one and done type of thing, but you didn’t want to ask. 

“I don’t,” Rosie scoffs, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the cheek. “But I hope we’ll get there.” 

The kiss sends a shiver down your spine, melting into the car seat. You turn to kiss her on the lips, a simple peck that she deepens, pulling you into her that has your body on fire. 

“Can I convince you to stay?” Rosie murmurs, sneaking a hand to your slacks. She palms you through the fabric, causing you to groan against her lips. “I think I can.” Her hand deftly lowers the zipper. 

“Chaeng,” You tear away your lips, head falling back on the headrest as you watch her take your cock out. 

“Yeah?” Rosie moves over the center console, dropping her head. 

“We’re in public,” Your voice comes out hoarse as her head goes lower, tongue slipping out to lick your tip. 

“It’s dark,” Rosie kisses your cock, “Better be quick then.”

In a swift move, Rosie’s mouth encloses over you and you’re a goner. 

--

You laugh at the nonsense Jungkook says in an attempt to distract the pair across the table from missing the shot. It works, and you’re one cup away from winning again.

You feel lighter than you did an hour ago. All thanks to the woman who happens to be sitting very closely to the man she’s interested in. Although, you’re trying your best not to dwell on the sinking feeling in your stomach every time you glance her way. 

“Dude you got it,” You nod to Jungkook who’s a bit drunk, but he swears his coordination gets better the more he drinks. 

Your best friend smirks, winking at the other team before smoothly tossing the ball and it falling perfectly into the lone cup. 

“And that’s game,” Jungkook puffs his chest out while the other two roll their eyes. “Who’s next?” 

“Take Yoongi for this round, I need some air,” You say without waiting for his response. You walk off to the kitchen, grabbing a beer before you make your way to the backyard. 

A few people stop you, mostly girls, asking what you’re doing after. You give a noncommittal answer because you would like to leave with Rosie, but the odds of that happening are low. 

The cool air hits your lungs and you let out a breath. A much needed one with the amount of people that are inside. There’s a few people, but they’re all in their own conversations, not paying you any mind. 

You find an unoccupied couch, deciding to sit alone before Jungkook finds you. You’re not drunk, but you’re not sober either. You’re in that limbo of a few more drinks might put you over the edge. 

Your mind vividly replays Rosie ‘convincing’ you to stay. She didn’t need to do much to get you to cum, but she did well to get you there in less than five minutes. You were almost tempted to say fuck the party and head back to yours, but after she swallowed you for all you had to give, she patted your head and said it was time to go inside. 

“Can I sit with you?” A voice immediately brings you out of your thoughts, your gaze falling on your ex-girlfriend. 

“Sure,” You scoot over, making some room on the couch. 

You take a sip of your beer, letting the bitter liquid sit in your mouth as you gather your thoughts. It wasn’t that it was hard to be around Nayeon, it was just awkward. You two were cordial, and you knew–thanks to Sana–that she wanted to get back together. You tried avoiding her, but running in the same social circle made it difficult. 

“How’s your night?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes. 

“It’s good,” You answer politely. “How about yours?” 

“Same.”

The noise from the house fills the silence when neither of you say anything else. 

You were with Nayeon for almost two years, and there was never a lull in the conversation. She would either be asking you a million questions or she would be telling you about her day in great detail. You tried to be friends with her after you broke up, but you didn’t think it was worth it. 

“How are you and Chaeyoung?” Nayeon asks nonchalantly that you pause mid-sip. 

“What’s there to know?” You finish your beer, placing the glass bottle on the table. 

Nayeon shrugs, sipping her wine, “I saw you two walk in together.” 

“We had dinner with our parents,” You lie, but it was more a half-lie since you actually did have dinner with your parents, just separately. 

Nayeon makes a humming sound before saying, “Your relationship with her was always interesting to me.” When you don’t ask what she means–she’ll tell you anyways–she continues, “I knew you two quote unquote hated each other, but regardless of that, there was always something that made me think you, or her, might’ve had feelings.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Nayeon?” You sigh. The way this conversation was going instantly killed your mood. 

“It’s hard to explain,” Nayeon shrugs, taking another sip. “But she likes Soohyun right? Or they’ve gone out together.” 

“I don’t know who Rosie likes, and it’s honestly none of my business,” You were getting irritated, especially since his name was now in the conversation. 

“I’m not saying it is your business, but all I’m saying is to be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” You snap. “You literally fucking cheated on me over an argument.” 

“You don’t think I regret that?” Nayeon’s voice cracks. “I’ve regretted that ever since.” 

“It’s too fucking late for that Nayeon, I don’t want to hear it,” You stand, blood boiling. “I’m fucking over this.” 

First the dinner with your parents, now this. You didn’t want to rehash the past with Nayeon. It was over. You got cheated on by a girl who was your first serious relationship, someone you loved, and thought about a future with. Then said-girl was telling you to be careful with Rosie, of all people. 

You knew what you were doing with Rosie, but for Nayeon to say what she said struck a chord.

Why? 

That was something you weren’t ready to admit. 

You walk away from Nayeon, leaving her alone. As soon as you enter the house, Jungkook calls you over, but you beeline for the front door without a second glance at Rosie. 

(But if you did, you would’ve seen her stand up from her seat next to Soohyun.) 

“Hey!” Rosie calls out to you. You don’t turn around, your pace picks up. “Hey, what the fuck happened?” Her hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you as soon as you reach your car. 

“Nothing,” You pull your hand away, jaw clenching as you try to compose yourself. 

“That’s a fucking lie.” 

You turn around, eyes glaring to the same expression, “Just let me be. I don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight.” 

“Too fucking bad, I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened,” Rosie crosses her arms. “I also have your fucking keys dumbass.” 

Fuck. 

“Give them to me,” You reach around her, knowing she put it in her back pocket, but she was faster. She took the keys out of her pocket, holding it up in front of your face. “Chaeng.” 

“You’re not fucking driving in this state. You’ve been drinking and you’re obviously pissed for whatever reason. I’m calling us a car and we’ll get yours in the morning. Don’t fucking fight with me about this,” Rosie glares, raising her chin defiantly. 

“Fine,” You roll your eyes, leaning against your car. 

You watch Rosie pull her phone out, calling a car or whatever. The alcohol was catching up to you. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves because you were still pissed off. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Rosie, but you weren’t expecting to see her for the rest of the night. 

You feel arms wrap around your back, Rosie’s perfume suddenly invading your senses, as she rests her head on your chest. 

“Let’s just sleep tonight okay?” Rosie whispers against your chest. “You’ve had a long day.” 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble, realizing your mistake. 

“Don’t be,” Rosie’s hand finds its way underneath your shirt, soothingly rubbing your lower back. 

“What about Soohyun?” You ask, doing your best to not sound like you were watching her. 

“He’s not relevant right now,” Rosie says softly, looping her fingers through your belt loop. “I’ll talk to him this weekend.” 

It annoys you a little bit, but you can’t help but think you’ve won some non-existent, one-sided competition with Soohyun. Rosie’s leaving with you and not him. 

You’re treading a thin line, crossing into dangerous territory. You’re hoping that once you have sex, all these feelings and thoughts that have been plaguing your mind will vanish. 

Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind. 

--

--

--

(It was way too long to fit in one post -_-)

[knavesflames]

since we are both sick in the head, i request biker arle headcanons (both sfw and nsfw)

oouuhhh thinking about biker arle who looks all intimidating and has tattoos showing up to your doorstep with flowers and melts when shes around you

im gonna throw up

thankyouiloveyoubyee

We truly are sick in the head. Literally what is it about this woman that has us in such a chokehold actually it’s so stupid but UGH. I have not once simped over a fictional woman as hard as this. Anyway, screaming, crying, throwing up at the thought of her

Anyone notice the references to a couple people in server?

Word count: 1159

Contents: fluff, soft arle, she’s scary but she’s not

Fluff utc!

Arlecchino. Everyone knows her. Who wouldn’t know the biker filled with tattoos, going around cursing like a sailor and never being seen without that stupid motorbike? She’s scary, intimidating. Even the grown adults shy away when they hear the familiar engine from afar, or refuse to look at her when she grumbles out that she wants to buy coffee. Even the store owner who supplies her parts for her bike and accessories for her stumbles over his words when she says she wants a new helmet. This one just doesn’t make her hair look nice when she takes it off, she says. The store owner is too intimidated to correct her, and tell her that it is not, in fact, the helmet’s fault.

The people in town also seem to be a little wary around you, too. They seem to know that if they say the wrong thing, or cause your face to fall or crumple, or cause tears to fall from your pretty eyes, that they’ll soon be facing the wrath of Arlecchino. Nobody seems to understand how you managed to break through her walls, how someone like you, so opposite Arlecchino, has her melting. Everyone sees it. Do they comment on it? Do they want to face her piercing glare, and whatever else she would do? Not a chance. It’s a little comical, though, seeing someone so tough looking, waiting outside of a store holding your cat, holding her in her arms while she feeds it treats every so often, going so far as to buy and place a bandana around her neck to surprise you. She does this all with a straight face, of course. It’s second nature to her, she’ll do anything for that smile of yours, the same smile that makes her feel like her insides have been set ablaze, makes her feel like a blushing teenager all over again.

You yourself think it’s adorable. Walking out of the store to see her holding your beloved cat (you joke that the cat is more important than her to see her pout) (you reassure her straight after that they’re on the same level, just to watch her pale cheeks flush a light pink). In reality, she makes you melt just as much. You have to hide the grin forming on your face when she speaks to you in that stoic voice she always has.

“Look. She looks dashing, I think. Matches my bike. I should get her a helmet.. I will ask someone to custom make one, I can take her on rides.” You cut her off immediately with an “absolutely not. My cat is not riding on a motorcycle.”

“Oh. Okay. I am still getting her a helmet. I want us to match.” She responds, her face completely blank, which makes everything funnier. You stand on your toes to kiss her cheek, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes widen. “My two favourite beings staying safe, wonderful.”

Even the notion that she’s one of your favourite things has her turning on her heel to conceal the ever growing blush on her face. She finds herself blushing often when she’s around you, she realises. She realises also that her words falter when you tell her to not speed, to make sure she’s wearing the correct material, that no, she doesn’t need to try and look sexy, that you find her the sexiest when she’s wearing the correct things.

She’s out riding for longer than usual, this time. The evening is dragging on, and she ALWAYS texts you when she’s home. She knows how you worry.

She is, actually, finished with her evening ride. Riding her bike as the sun sets is freeing for her. She likes to picture all of the negative shit being left in the wind as she drives. This evening, however, she drove past a field. A field decorated with different wild flowers she just knows you’d love. So, she slows to a stop, parking her bike in a way she knows won’t get it damaged. Her bike is her prized possession, second to you. She wades through the flowers, finding the best ones, slicing the stalk with her nails, the ones she kept long and not filed blunt (for your sake, of course). She grumbles to herself when the ovule gets under her nails. Once she deems the small bouquet good enough, she drives to you. Stopping just a little ways from you, she ties her boot lace around the stalks of the flowers, tying a clumsy bow. Arlecchino being Arlecchino, fixes herself as best as she can before she finds her feet moving towards your door.

When you rush to open the door after hearing her familiar knocking pattern, your own words falter for once. There she is. Stood in that shirt she KNOWS shows off her arms and the tattoos she knows you love, stood in those jeans she and you know all too well shows off her ass. She’s caught you staring, it’s the reason she wears them. And in her hand sits a messy, slightly wilted bouquet of flowers, clearly handpicked, hand cut (or rather, nail cut, you can see the residue under her nails), tied clumsily with a boot lace of all things.

“Here,” she mutters, “I thought you’d like these. Sorry they’re all.. weird.” You’re silent for a few seconds before she speaks again, a little defeat in her tone as she glances away, a sad frown twisting at her features despite her attempting to hide it. “Never mind. It was stupid. They’re ugly now, anyway. Have a good night.”

She goes to turn, but your hand shoots out and wraps around her bicep before she can leave. “Stop it. I love them. I don’t know what to say because you’re so.. adorable.”

“I’m what.” Her voice almost sounds shocked, if it wasn’t for the rough attempt at stoicism. She never thought she’d be called adorable in her life. She’s not meant to be adorable. She doesn’t want to be adorable. Her insides say otherwise, when she sees your soft eyes, filled with small tears, and your eyebrows furrowed in a look of pure adoration. You snatch the flowers before she can take them away, immediately walking into your home and placing them in a vase in the middle of your living room. She watches, straight faced, no indication of her feelings until she huffs, her face bright red.

“Turn on the air condition. It’s fucking hot in here. Where’s that kitty of yours, I want to see if she liked the fox toy I bought her.”

You look at her once more, a giggle rising in your throat as you tilt your head towards the cat tower, your eyes following as she moves towards it. You realise just how much you love this woman. At the same time, she realises she probably wants to spend her life with you, if you’d let her.

[kagecreep]

Midnight Burns (VxMC)

(KillerChat)

Description: You have trouble sleeping. V calls you at midnight, and a few little secrets slip out from both your lips.

Two requests mixed together: V who's weak for compliments & a MC who loves V's voice.

Notes: this takes place b4 you meet irl (: i gave you a lil username just for funsies and to make it a little easier to read WC: 3.2k

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Despite all your best efforts, the dawn had forgotten your name. Your sleep began early in the morning, before sunrise, and slept a scant 4 hours. Fortunately, being in an online server with people around the world, there was always someone to keep you company. Unfortunately that server happened to be filled with murderers; for better or worse, they were more welcoming than anyone else you knew, and you were assured that turning to them would bring nothing but comfort.

Tonight, however, no one was online. You scrolled up and down the different chats mindlessly, your head leaning heavily into your palm. You could write, but opening the blank page was more of a taunt than a call to productivity. Nothing was on your mind. You needed more inspiration from your latest muse before continuing with your next part of the story. To your disappointment, V was not online.

With a sigh, you left your computer on your desk, and left downstairs to fetch something to eat. You returned to your room quickly with an old bowl of pasta in hand, crawling back into your chair. 

You squinted at the bright screen, scrolling through the server channels and members one last time before vowing to work on your book. Upon seeing a notification, however, your vow was promptly tossed out the window, and you clicked into your chat with K9.

<K9> [23:00] Good evening. I know it is late, however I was hoping you could spare some time to answer a few of my questions.

You blinked several times, fingers hovering over the keyboard before you typed in your response.

<scaredevil> [23:12] yeah, i'm not doing anything. whats up? you want to call? <K9> [23:12] That would be preferrable.  Thank you for indulging me. 

Not a second later and he was calling you. You quickly brushed your hair with your fingers and accepted, sitting up a little straighter in your chair.

"Midnight calls, hm?" You said before he could speak. "Some of the other server members might think we're up to something."

"None of the other server members are able to see our private calls," he said flatly.

"Goreboy is,"  you said.

He grunted––obviously dissatisfied with that truth.

"You raise a good point. Perhaps I shall set up our own private server––remove goreboy from the equation altogether," he said, knitting his fingers together beneath his chin.

"A server just for us? Sounds intimate," you said, grinning as you leaned in.

A soft, dark blush crept onto his face.

"Nonsense. It's simply a matter of privacy. Do you not resent the idea of being monitored, as I do?"

"I do... but not really enough to do anything about it. I don't know much about coding, anyway," you said, leaning on your palm. "Besides, we live in a surveillance state."

"All the more reason to protect yourself," he said, his eyes narrowing. "You must be skilled at disposing of bodies to be so careless in hiding your identity."

You shrugged. You had tried many times to tell him, both in humorous and serious tones, that you were not a serial killer. He never listened, insistent that his gut instinct was never wrong. Some part of you found it amusing, but at least his vehement search for you allowed you to spend some time with him, even if it was filled with both vague and direct threats on your life.

"Before we start with questions... how are you feeling tonight?" He asked.

"Tired," you said, tapping your fingers against your cheek.

"Have you not been sleeping well?"

"Not really."

He nodded softly.

"I understand. I, too, have many a night where sleep evades my grasp. Can you do anything about it? Do you have medicines?" He asked in a softer tone, leaning in.

"Yeah, but they don't tend to work." You glanced up at him. "Why do you care?"

He stuttered for a moment, hands falling out of sight of the camera.

"It is... important to lead a balanced life. That way I will be the one to take you down––not some useless meandering cop or your own poorly-managed lifestyle," he said.

"Sounds... intimate," you said with a lazy smile.

He hesitated, lips parted and eyes darting to the side and back to you as he contemplated your words and his own response. 

"I... hesitate to admit this, but my vendetta is... personal, when it comes to you. I cannot figure you out. I suppose nothing is more alluring than a mystery," he said, once more folding his fingers together beneath his chin and leaning in.

"I've told you before," you chuckled, "I'm no mystery. I'm a writer."

"Yes, so you've said, and with all due respect, I do not believe it. Now if you don't mind, I would like you to answer my questions," he said.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"My first question. What is your favourite time of day?"

A grip creeped across your lips, devolving into giggles.

"Your questions have such a sweet facade," you said, shaking your head. "How is knowing my favourite time of day going to help you catch me?"

"Answer the question, please," he said, sighing roughly.

"Fine." You paused, biting back your smile. "I love the dawn."

"The dawn?" He repeated, eyes widening. "Interesting. You are not often online during those hours."

"I'm usually asleep then."

"Then... how is it your favourite time of day?"

"Oh, you know," you said, grunting as you stretched back in your chair, "it's a beautiful time. Renewal, quiet, and peace. My body just... doesn't... well, to be honest, I usually end up falling asleep just before dawn. Dawn hath abandoned me, and visits me no longer."

"I see."

You weren't sure if he believed you or not. You supposed it didn't matter. Before he could ask his next question, you spoke first.

"What's your favourite time of day?" You asked.

Again his eyes widened imperceptibly, taken aback by the reciprocation.

"I do not see how that is important," he said.

"You know my favourite, why can't I know yours? I already told you I'm no good at hacking, or finding people. I'm just curious," you said, shrugging.

"For all I know, that could have been a lie. But... I suppose it is only fair. I prefer the night. The vermin come out of the filth and reveal their nature, and I await them in the dark," he said, his eyes narrowing. 

He glanced up from the intensity of his thoughts and found you beaming across the screen. He raised a single brow.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked roughly.

"Nothing, I just..."

What were you smiling about? You thought for a moment. It could be any number of things, really––his voice, his manner of speaking, the intensity of his conviction. Each of these things melted you a little bit, and the fluffy covers of your bed suddenly didn't seem so unfriendly.

"... I like the way you talk. Your words. Your voice. It's very... pretty," you murmured.

He froze, his face quickly turning a deep shade of red.

"Y -" he choked on his own breath. "R... really?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "It's a shame you use it to threaten me."

He blinked several times, glancing to the side.

"W - well... I suppose... I could hold off on my search, for tonight," he said, his eyes returning to you. "If that would please you."

You smiled. The juxtaposition of him attempting to please you and promising to kill you at the same time––it tingled inside you. A wonderfully chaotic rush.

"I don't think you'd lose much by taking a break for now," you chuckled softly.

He wouldn't lose anything because he had nothing to gain. You hid nothing. Except your name, of course.

"Then... what would you like to talk about?" He asked hesitantly.

"Mmm... I don't know," you hummed, staring in a somewhat dreamy trance at your screen. "I just like spending time with you."

You weren't sure how much more of this V could take. You could practically feel the heat of his blush through the computer, and you drank in each micro-expression––the widening eyes, twitching lips, fidgeting fingers––with absurd delight.

"You... are incredibly odd," he finally stuttered out, unable to meet your eye, even through the camera.

"Is it odd to find you endearing and beautiful?"

Now you had gone too far. He hadn't even replied and you were melting with embarrassment just watching him react to your words, as though it flowed off him in such excess that it somehow reached you.

"I - it is, um, quite odd," he eventually said, staring at his keyboard.

Despite going too far, you couldn't help yourself, and dug your trench even deeper.

"Sorry," you said. "I can't help it. Even if you are planning to kill me, I can't deny... nor should I, really, that you're very handsome. And I enjoy your company. I might even tell you my address so you can be the last thing I see before I die."

He slammed his fingers against the keyboard, and with a panicked expression, hung up.

You stared at your chat for a whole minute, eyes wide from his sudden reaction. Slowly you leaned forward and began to type.

<scaredevil> [23:21] did i do something wrong?

It took him several more minutes to reply, and he took a long while to type out his message.

<K9> [23:27] No.  I apologize for ending our call so abruptly. I was... suddenly busy. <scaredevil> [23:27] you're not a very good liar, you know <K9> [23:27] ... I suppose there's no avoiding it then.  As much as I am disinclined to admit it, I was very flattered by your comments. A little too flattered.

You stared at the screen. What did he mean?

<scaredevil> [23:28] were you like..... taking a cold shower....? <K9> [23:29] I was not. I spent my time away tending to one of my rabbits. As a bonus, the activity aided in calming me. I have no affinity for cold showers anyway.

You debated your next message for a moment, heart racing as you sent it.

<scaredevil> [23:29] can we call again? <K9> [23:29] I do not believe that is a good idea.

Your heart deflated in your chest.

<scaredevil> [23:30] why not? :( <K9> [23:30] I am worried you will return to your previous barrage of compliments. ... It is not a good idea. <scaredevil> [23:30] please v? i love hearing your voice

Nothing. The marker to show his typing didn't even appear.

<scaredevil> [23:31] im sorry for pushing you i really am i didn't mean to offend you i just wanted to express a little how i felt fuck i'll stop

You curled up in your desk chair, legs to your chest, and hid your face in your knees. How embarrassing. A deep, cold, and breaking sensation crackled through your ribs.

The computer dinged, and your head shot up.

<K9> [23:38] You did not offend me. I am simply... unaccustomed to people thinking of me in such a way. It has not ever occurred before.

You quickly began to type a response.

<scaredevil> [23:38] never? thats hard to believe <K9> [23:38] Is it? I am not the most sociable of creatures. Nor am I approachable. Most would consider me imposing, or even menacing. I am not sure I have ever been called handsome, much less... beautiful. <scaredevil> [23:38] is it weird that i feel kinda accomplished to be your first? i have a little award no one else will ever have <K9> [23:38] Not the most fantastic of accomplishments, but I will not deny you your feelings on the matter. <scaredevil> [23:38] thanks :) not to freak you out again but you're sweet <K9> [23:39] Another compliment. ... Thank you.

You drummed the edge of your keyboard with your fingertips, biting at your lip. Exhaustion freely visited you but rarely came with the comfort of sleep; V's voice, the deep, dulcet tones, was a ready substitute. When he kept his words soft and yielding, you could even hear sleep knocking at your distant door. It was a lot to ask, especially after freaking him out so much, but the desperation within you was clawing. Regret would make you bleed if you didn't at least ask.

<scaredevil> [23:41] i know this is a little odd you don't have to say yes, but well to be honest, your voice has a calming effect on me. i was hoping maybe you could help me fall asleep... please. <K9> [23:42] ... Your request is strange, but... acceptable. I will aid you. <scaredevil> [23:42] that's very kind of you <K9> [23:42] Kindness is a trait I strive to exemplify in my life. But thank you. You are the first person in the server to take note of it.

A moment later and he was requesting to call you. You hurried over to bed, carrying your laptop over, and jumped beneath the covers before answering. There was barely enough time to settle your head into your pillow before the call loaded.

He let out some quiet grunting noise upon seeing you, raising his brow.

"You are... already in bed," he said slowly.

Oh, that deep, amber voice, you thought to yourself dreamily. You decided not to inform him of your delight in hearing him.

"Of course I am," you said, hiding half your face behind your blankets. "I'm not going to sleep at my desk.

"I would think not. I was... just not expecting you to already be... in bed."

You giggled, shying further into your covers.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked softly.

You nodded.

"Good," he said in a somewhat stiff tone, giving a curt nod. "If it's... not too much to ask, I would like to see your face. Consider it a favour in return for helping you to fall asleep."

It was a fair request, though you felt some embarrassment at the idea of him being able to fully see you as you drifted off to sleep. Still, with a creeping blush you lowered your blanket, revealing your face squished into your pillow. A subtle but surely there smile warmed V's expression.

"Ah, there you are," he said, leaning in, his hands lax beneath his chin. "If we are being honest tonight, I will admit you are quite beautiful, as well. A light in the dim wake of reality."

You chuckled, attempting poorly to hide your blushing face in your pillow. But your eyes remained on your screen, entranced with him.

"Charming words," you said.

"And yet speaking nothing but the truth. Now please, tell me––how can I be of service to you?"

It was your turn now to flush, to be filled with a warmth that urged you to run far away just to compose yourself. A hundred different things whirled through your head; would he really do anything for you if you simply asked with a sweet 'please' at the end? Surely not. Logically there was some limit. But your imagination knew no such word.

"You can talk about anything," you said, wishing you could hide your face again. "You can even read me a story if you fancy it."

"Anything?" He asked, raising his brow. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

He thought for a moment, then suddenly stood, disappearing out of the camera's sight for a couple minutes. You thought to call out but decided against it, and patiently waited for him to return. 

He reappeared with a book in hand, opening it on the desk in front of him. It was a small book––barely the size of his hand––and coloured in pale earthy tones, though the title remained obscured from your vision.

"This is a collection of Persian poetry," he said, smoothing out the pages. "I... sometimes read it when I am in need of relaxation. Though at times the prose can be... quite stimulating to the intellect. I hope that, as I do, you will find it calming."

Poetry at midnight. Poetry with V, at midnight, in your bed, as he would slowly watch you sleep. 

There were worse ways to die.

With your heart pounding as intensely as it was, sleep was the furthest thing from your mind and desires––but you had asked for his help, and he had so kindly acquiesced, so you did your best to settle into the covers and slow your racing heart.

He turned a few pages, and you watched with fluttering eyes.

"Ah. Here is a poet I much admire. A mystic Sufi from the 8th century... a woman. Rabia al Basri. Let us begin."

He spoke slowly, with emphasis, with quiet adoration for the artwork of words––the intertwining taste of writer and experience, combined into a painting of poetry.

I have loved Thee with two loves - a selfish love and a love that is worthy of Thee. As for the love which is selfish, Therein I occupy myself with Thee, to the exclusion of all others. But in the love which is worthy of Thee, Thou dost raise the veil that I may see Thee. Yet is the praise not mine in this or that, But the praise is to Thee in both that and this.

"Here is another one, by Rumi. Another mystic from the 13th century," he said.

The Friend comes into my body looking for the center, unable to find it, draws a blade, strikes anywhere.

There is a light seed grain inside. You fill it with yourself, or it dies.

I am caught in this curling energy, your hair! Whoever is calm and sensible is insane.

Do you think I know what I am doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it is writing, or the ball can guess where it is going next.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups. That is fine with us. Every morning, we glow and in the evening we glow again.

They say there is no future for us. They are right. Which is fine with us.

Slowly you drifted away, eyes drifting shut, mind drifting off, as sleep melted into your skin like a warm rose oil. The depth of his voice, the luxuriant taste, imbued itself into your dreams. He spoke only a few more poems before you were gone, your eyes firmly closed and lips softly parted.

He closed the book quietly and set it aside. For a few minutes unbeknownst to your consciousness he watched you, eyes darting across your features as sparks of his own wandering mind came about. He wondered, though he didn't mean to, what your skin would feel like beneath his fingers. How warm your body would be beneath a shared blanket. The thought was inappropriate, and he quickly dismissed it.

He did, however, allow himself one last indulgence.

You were not his love. You had done nothing of the sort to indicate comfort in being referred to as such. But given your kindness––your gentle amiability––he was assured you were much beloved of someone.

"Good night, beloved," he murmured, lingering for a moment more, before ending the call.

Your computer quietly turned itself off.

[two-white-butterflies]

i can see you | dr3

Description: Secret relationship tension. You both struggle to keep the relationship a secret.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo/red-bull admin!reader

Daniel's arms were wrapped around your torso, carefully leading you towards the secluded station of redbull racing. You've been dating each other for six-months now, and due to his job and your adoration for privacy - you've never really announced your relationship to the public. It's not like they're supposed to care, right?

'Private but not secret' was your motto.

Everyone in redbull racing knew that Daniel was dating somebody - they just didn't know who.

"Can we get some milkshakes before the race?" you inquired, knowing that the both of you were going to spend the entire race watching from a tiny screen. It could get boring. "Yeah, chocolate or strawberry?" he asked, reaching for his phone to call someone.

"Mint," you replied with a smile.

"Are you serious?" he chuckled - showing you a toothy grin smile.

"Yeah," you hummed.

"Did Max really expose our relationship?" you giggled while pressing small kisses to his lips. "Don't worry, he doesn't know who my girlfriend is." he says for certain, hands trailing up to cup your cheeks. "Really?" you raised an eyebrow.

Daniel told Max everything.

You used to joke around that they were the ones dating.

"Yep,"

Daniel dared to kiss you in the open.

His lips were pressed against yours, hands squeezing your ass - while his hat partially covered your face. "Daniel," you whispered, surprised by his sudden bravery. "Y/N," he repeated your name.

He pulled away from your face - hands raising to settle on your waist. "What are you doing?" you chuckled, pecking his lips. The both of you were lucky since it was lunchtime - thus, there weren't any people in the garage. "Kissing you?" he answered.

"How courageous..." you hummed while he pulled your body closer. "Wanna see how far this goes?" he joked - pulling away in time when another personnel enters the garage.

"Daniel?" Christian raised his eyebrows. "We're filming content, sir." you quickly lied - pulling your phone out to pretend to be filming him. "Oh, okay - have fun then." he waved goodbye - not wanting to be part of another tiktok.

Daniel wiped the tears away from your eyes. "Hey, twitter is a shitty place. Twitter is irrelevant, like who even uses it?" he calmed you down - hiding your phone in his pocket before you could read more hate tweets about you. "If someone feels this about us, I feel shitty - Dan." your voice sounded hoarse from the hours of crying.

"That's normal - but it doesn't mean that you'll live based on what anonymous people say." he reasoned, already used to the hate. "I know - but I never wanted our relationship to be exposed this way." you sobbed, burying your face in his chest.

"I agree, but my manager said that this can be our chance to fuck them up. We need to own our narrative."

F1 FANS DISCORD SERVER

kittenwhispers: anyone else find it weird that daniel is dating some 23 year old 😭? - thebossdaddy: it's weird fr WAHAHA

rosesforrose: it's not weird, i think they look good together. daniel's always been childish anyways. (edited)

annieunnie: nah i ship them so badd acck

danielricciardo: Annabelle in theaters near you. 🤣

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[blueteller]

Cale Trying to Order Slacker Life in a Restaurant

[Part 2 "spoiler" warning]

Fate: Good evening, welcome to Power Restaurant, may I take your order? Kim Rok Soo: Yes, I'd like to order some Slacker Life, please Fate: Hm…. We might be out of that… Wait, did you by any chance order Death Vow Curse (Light)? Kim Rok Soo: …no? I literally just got here- Fate: Oops, there must have been a mistake somewhere. Let me talk to my manager Kim Rok Soo: … Kim Rok Soo: (looks at his watch; 36 minutes passed) God of Death: Hello, I'm the current manager. So we might have mixed up your order with the White Star's… Kim Rok Soo: Well then- God of Death: We might be able to fix it if you exchange seats with Cale Henituse Kim Rok Soo: There's really no need- God of Death: Right this way, sir! Cale: …Okay? I guess this seat isn't so bad- Deruth: This seat comes with exclusive Count Heir Rights, would you like some? Cale: I'm really- Deruth: Excellent! I'm sure Basen won't mind Basen: Not at all, I wasn't hungry for Heir Rights anyway Cale: I didn't order any- Alberu: The sit next table offers free Prime Minister tea, if you're interested Cale: No thanks. But I'm seriously getting hungry (looks at the Menu) I might as well order a couple of Elemental Power side dishes… an extra Vitality salad… oh, Scamming Aura on discount, nice…! Eruhaben: What's this, you ordered 4 Elementary Dishes on your plate? Cale: It just kind of happened- Eruhaben: This won't do, this isn't healthy at all. You have to take supplementary 5th Earth Power to balance out your plate. As for the mineral deficiency… You should also replace that Fire Suppressing Water drink with some real Sky Eating Water. Cale: This is getting a bit much- Alberu: You requested the extra large Commander Steak too, right? Cale: Yes but- Wait. I thought I only ordered Temporary Commander's Small Nuggets-? Alberu: Nope, I'm pretty sure you ordered the full Commander of Two Continents Steak Cale: …let me speak with the manager again- White Star: I see, so you're the one who ordered all those dishes! I'm impressed! Are you hungry for some Dragon Slayer Legacy as well? Cale: (grossed out) I'm dead certain I am NOT-! God of Death: You called? Cale: Yes, I'd like to register a complaint- God of Death: Oh, we also recommend Saint's Signature Dish for today! Cage: Don't listen to him! Saint's Dish is total trash! They're not even serving alcohol with that!! Cale: Is anyone even listening to me-?! Clopeh: Sir, I brought you some Legendary Fame lemon tea!! Cale: Get this disgusting thing away from me! Sealed God: …Would you like bitter Demonification Noodles sir? Last chance to sign up, we're out of stock after this! White Star: W-wait, I ordered those-! Earth 3: Oi, was someone ordering an extra Commander's Stake around here? Xiaolen: (begging) Would you like some Purifier's Exaltation dessert? It's on the house! Central Plains: (puppy eyes) A-and, some Nature Realm Level sushi, i-if you don't mind... Cale: ….what the f*** is even happening anymore God of Balance: (shows up out of nowhere) ...What's this about someone messing around with too many orders? God of Death: Oh s***. The Power Executive is here-! God of Balance: (leans over Cale's seat from behind, menacingly) You should just order the Full Course Godly Ascension Dinner. Or ALL of those other dishes will land on your bill Cale: I… I... I just wanted some Slacker Life… God of Hope: (pats his shoulder) Cale… They never servered Slacker Life here in the first place… Cale: ... Cale: (┛ಠ_ಠ)┛彡┻━┻

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 5

Relic

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: Shadow

Word count: ~4.6k Warning: None [ROMANCE]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. Going to pretend to be some big shot writer and dedicate this chapter to the ones who encouraged me to keep writing. And my favourite reader (you know who you are, hopefully).

The doorknob twisted under his fingers and Azriel gritted his teeth at the soft click. Mercifully, the door made no more sound. Darkness and quiet awaited him on the other side, while a haunting aura loomed behind him in the hallway under the fading sunlight. The hag was nowhere to be found.

Everyone except Ayla had known who he was, yet something changed after that day.

The last time he walked into the bar, Raya glared from across the room stopping him in his steps. She and Uri exchanged hissed whispers before the server led him out to the streets. He croaked out a “We’re closing soon anyway” with an apologetic smile and shut the rusty door in his face.

And, the hag—gone were the expectant eyes and the grateful smile when Azriel returned the next night. Instead, he faced a creature twice as large as him with knitting needles in one hand and jagged talons out in the other. 

Nonetheless, it warmed his heart and calmed his mind that Ayla was cared for.

Grumbled curses seeped through the wall on his side. His shadows wound tight around him. Clapping his wings close, Azriel wedged through the gap and shut the door carefully, praying it didn’t alert the hag.

A second passed and another. Then, sweet silence embraced him.

‘We’re closed.’

Azriel whirled around.

The room seemed to stretch far and long in the darkness with thick curtains shielding the windows. Stacks of wooden trays, empty glasses, and filled crystal decanters piled on the counter. Behind it, Ayla reached on her toes and placed a bottle on the shelf. A lone lantern burned a muted golden above the bar illuminating her.

‘I really need a drink,’ he uttered the first words that came to his mind, cursing himself for the senseless fool he was.

Her hand went rigid. Ayla stilled, and time and space froze with her. If not for the wisps of hair fluttering with her every breath, Azriel would have believed so.

None of their previous encounters ended on a good note. After the last time, he needed to clarify himself. If his mate deemed him vile, Azriel preferred she hated him from close. But in her silence, it struck him. She could be the one behind her friends’ defence, commanding them to keep him away.

‘Lock the door.’ She said a moment later, adding another bottle to the display. ‘I don’t want anyone else to believe we’re open yet.’

Resisting a smile, Azriel tested the knob again. He and her, alone in the empty bar—dreams truly did come true.

Once he settled across from her, Ayla faced him. She looked at him, unblinking. 

Azriel waited. So did she. He fumbled into his pockets and his fingers caught in the leather. His heart sank. He remembered stuffing a pouch with gold marks explicitly to bribe the hag if needed.  

Ayla laughed, the sound echoing through the air, chasing away every thought from his mind. She had blessed him with her smiles before. But this, it was beautiful—more so than her melodies, like the chime of a willow.

‘I was expecting your order.’ Her shoulders shook as she picked a glass from the pile. ‘Spare your money. The bar is still closed, remember?’

Heat crept up his neck. Though Azriel smiled, he ducked his head low. His shadows swayed on his shoulders as if laughing along with her. Traitors.

Ayla pulled a decanter from under the counter, simpler than the ones above, and poured a mouthful for him.

Azriel took the first sip and her eyes never left his face. 

A thick sweetness coated his mouth, the aftertaste lingering on his tongue. A drink was surely an excuse for his cause, but he expected a real one in a bar. He almost said so when his throat tightened. His vision clouded. Bitterness exploded along the back of his tongue before morphing into a burn that settled in his throat, and an undignified cough escaped his lips.

Amusement sparked in Ayla’s eyes. ‘I can find you something light if you’d like.’

‘It’s fine.’ Azriel cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse when he got the words out. ‘I didn’t expect. . .that. What is it?’

‘Poison. Didn’t your instincts warn you?’

His shadows danced along his back and wings, but they were quiet and calm. Azriel studied her blank face as he took a subtle sniff. It smelled quite like her—a jumble of spices and sweetness. 

Ayla laughed again. ‘I’m not daft to kill you in my own bar. It’s something Raya and Uri have been experimenting with.’

‘So it could be poison.’ Azriel smiled and tested another sip. It tasted easy this time. When she paused to fill his glass, he gave her a nod.

Her eyes fixated on his shoulders. ‘And for your companions?’

The wavering darkness stilled.

One ever wondered what they did for him or could do for them. In five centuries, no one asked what they wanted. His shadows that sensed the insensible and expected the unexpected, skidded down his back as though her question had rendered them awed. Their whispers quieted, and in that eerie void, Azriel seemed to hear a word echo back to him. Far, far away. Ayla.

‘Nothing.’ He dropped his gaze to the drink, smiling. It only served right that his companions suffered his agony too.

Leaving the liquor beside him, Ayla tended to her shelf. 

It was a cold, cruel world outside. A woman who hurt her and promised worse lurked beyond that room. A court wanted to whisk her away for a reason he knew nothing of. But Ayla had no worry. She drifted back and forth, shuffling the bottles in an innate pattern only she saw until the colours bled and blended into a seamless artwork, a mosaic of reds and browns and amber in the faelight.

How could she be so carefree with her life in danger?

She preferred the lonely, Uri had said. Even with Azriel mere feet away, she was alone, in her own world—getting her bar ready for the evening, and he was content watching her.

Cradling a bottle against her chest, Ayla leaned back against the counter.

If he set his glass down and reached a little, Azriel could trail a finger down the arch of her spine, feel the smooth curve of her waist under his palm. A little lower, her shirt crinkled, right above the swell of her— He tore his eyes away and cleared his throat.

‘You don’t have to act tough,’ she said. ‘No one shall know the big bad shadowsinger can’t drink. It will be our secret.’

Azriel looked up. Ayla moved down the bar, away from him, towards the unattended pile. A teasing smile tugged at her lips. And her face lacked the hatred he believed she felt for him.

Had he been wrong? The times he met with her, she was polite—ignoring her threat—and she talked without hesitance.

‘You were gone for a long time. Where were you?’

‘Shouldn’t you know that already?’ Ayla wiped the glasses, the rings on her bracelet clinking with her every move, and stacked them on the tray one by one.

‘I’m a spy,’ mumbled Azriel, ‘not a stalker.’

She chuckled, so light it was almost a breath. ‘Don’t the lines blur for you?’

Always a quick question thrown his way to draw the attention from her. Azriel was used to rudeness, anger, and even snark. But Ayla, she was something else. Her words were a weapon, sharp and precise, and always found their mark.

Shadows gathered over his shoulder, coiling and threading into dark ribbons, inching towards her. Ayla glanced at them and a smile curled her lips. With that, she shattered his resolve.

‘Drink with me,’ said Azriel.

Her hands froze and the smile faded. She peered at him.

‘Drink with me, Ayla.’ He said again, only gentler.

For a breath, she didn’t move, only assessing him. Then she abandoned the trays, glasses and bottles, and walked back to where he sat. 

Snagging the drink from between his fingers, she took a sip. Her brows pulled together as she pressed the back of her fingers to her lips and gasped. Azriel grinned.

‘Gods, that’s horrible.’ The veins along her neck strained as she swallowed again. ‘They should not be making that.’

‘A bar owner who can’t handle a drink. It’ll be our secret.’ Azriel poured another glass.

‘Ah, so it begins. Is this how you interrogate your suspects? Get them drunk?’ Ayla crossed her arms on the bar. It brought her closer to him.

Azriel nodded. ‘Right after a meal of their choosing.’

‘Sure, sure. We don’t want to lose them to exhaustion. And when does the screaming begin?’

There were two kinds of women—ones who idolised him and ones who feared him. Neither cared who he was underneath his mask of Night Court’s Torturer. And they definitely did not joke about it. 

Azriel chuckled under his breath.

Ayla drank again. ‘It’s still not my secret to share if that’s why you’re here.’

‘Not the part where you’re involved. That’s yours to tell.’

Her eyes didn’t waver. She observed him as though she could stir through his thoughts and pull them apart until she took what she wanted. 

After a long minute, she muttered, ‘I’m starting to see why you’re a spymaster.’ She tucked a fist under her chin. ‘I’ll tell you what. You find out where Hamra is and I’ll give you—’

‘She just passed the borders of Winter. If she moves west in the next two days, she’s heading to Autumn.’ 

Ayla blinked twice. Her lips parted and closed. She shook her head and slowly, a smile made its way onto her face. ‘Not a stalker,’ she mumbled, brushing the loose strands away from her eyes. ‘I met her five years ago.’

Azriel brought the glass to his lips and hid his smirk behind it.

‘I had to stop at an inn on my way back from a trip. I never do because they are always loud and crowded. That place was no exception.’ Her brows furrowed, yet her smile remained. She stared at the wood between them, ‘I almost left until I saw her. She was cursing at three men who were trying to hold her down and she was soaked in blood. I couldn’t tell whose it was. But she was fighting back. And those who wished to help were afraid of her.’

‘You helped her.’

Ayla nodded once. ‘Not right away. I wasn’t sure if she was innocent. But, she was cornered and outmanned. One of them even had a rope to tie her down like a beast. It didn’t matter though. The next minute, she was waggling a knife at them. Almost took an eye out of one.’ She laughed, shaking her head. More hair spilt from her knot. ‘I still don’t know where she got it from. After I had her cleaned and fed, she offered me gold for my horse and promised to let me ride him if I offered her protection.’

Azriel grinned. He expected nothing less from the spitfire of a child. ‘Who was she running from?’

‘Her sire.’ Ayla hesitated for a beat, then sighed. ‘Hamra is a half-nymph. When she came of age, many coveted her for her beauty and suitors poured in from every court. Her sire is a lowly lord. After he married a high fae to keep his bloodline pure, her mother hid her birth from him. But news of her existence spread when she bore more resemblance to him than her mother. Since Hamra carries his blood and passes as a fae, like any arrogant male, he claims to the right to decide who she weds and beds to further his lordly dreams.’

Different courts, different times, but the same tale.

Anger coiled in Azriel’s gut. Hamra was a mere child. Almost as old as when Mor endured the same or Gwyn.

‘Who’s her father?’

‘I’ve spoken more than I promised.’

‘And the woman, is she here on his orders?’

Ayla stole the drink from him and took a long sip.

‘Tell me the child is safe to travel alone.’

She lifted her chin, her eyes scrutinising him. The glass hung from her fingers by the rim. ‘And why do you care?’

Azriel didn’t know what trick she was playing. How could one not care? The sight of Mor’s naked body, bloody and bruised, on the ground still haunted him. He couldn’t condemn another to the same fate. ‘Shouldn’t we when her life is in danger?’

Ayla sipped again. Another minute of silence passed before she smiled. ‘You’re kind.’

The words felt wrong even from her lips. If she knew his true intentions, that the fae had been a pawn to get closer to her, she wouldn’t feel the same.

Azriel looked away, ‘It’s not what people say about me.’

‘Maybe you’re listening to the wrong people.’

Her gaze was heavy on him. The urge to hide gnawed at his chest. But they were alone and his shadows had their own will around her. They peeled away leaving him exposed, bare and whole. 

Aware of the little time he had before they were interrupted, Azriel took the drink from her. ‘Is that why you refuse to work for lords? For her safety?’

‘I don’t find them reliable.’ She shrugged, ‘Most are entitled and self-aggrandising.’

‘Rhys isn’t like them.’ At the least, not after one knew him.

Ayla clicked her tongue. ‘Your High Lord must pay you well if you endorse him while drunk.’

Azriel chuckled. He itched to defend his brother and convince her that he wasn’t as evil as she believed him to be. But he wanted to stay with her more. 

‘Why the bar?’ He asked instead. Her brows furrowed. ‘You make weapons and yet, own a bar.’

‘I liked the house.’ Azriel must have failed to mask his confusion because she added, ‘It’s in the middle of the city. I have a view of Sidra and the mountains from my balcony. And on solstices, I can see every celebration. The lights, the decorations, the music. For months, I tried to negotiate with the owner. But he wouldn’t sell it without the bar.’ She sighed, waving a hand between them. ‘You would know if you saw my house.’

His heart lurched at those words she uttered so nonchalantly.

‘Tell me this,’ she leaned forward on her arms. ‘Doesn’t it contradict your purpose if you declare yourself a spymaster?’

Azriel grinned. Of course, his mate would be bold enough to ridicule him. ‘I have others working for me. And everyone expects a shadowsinger to spy. There’s no point hiding it.’

Ayla rolled her eyes. ‘Excuses. Admit that you’re terrible at your job.’

’You don’t even know what I can do.’

‘You couldn’t find out where I was.’

‘But I found Hamra.’

‘She probably spotted you. Your shadows aren’t as subtle as they should be.’ She took the drink from him. The warmth of her skin grazed his fingers.

Darkness swarmed and writhed over his shoulders at the insult. A low chuckle escaped his lips. ‘Why the singing?’

Ayla frowned at the sudden shift. ‘You seem to be very curious about my life. Are you sure this isn’t an interrogation?’

‘You’re not screaming yet,’ teased Azriel.

She drew a breath and the corner of her lips twitched. ‘Among my people, women are supposed to be pretty things who do pretty things.’

Azriel waited for more. But she answered with silence.

Sire. Her people. Your High Lord. Her choice of words was strange for a commoner in the north, or even a lady. But she carried no markers of the southern courts. Even when she spoke of Hamra, she refrained from naming a place.

From the way she talked of her people, only two places came to his mind. 

Azriel knew the chances were slim but, for someone whose every word was calculated, she was bound to correct him rather than reveal the truth herself. ‘Autumn?’

Ayla grinned, ‘Do I look like I’m from Autumn?’

Hewn City then. Azriel hid his smirk by taking a sip. ‘I didn’t know making swords was a craft fit for a lady.’

‘Spoken like a true man.’ She exacted her vengeance by snatching the glass from him. Her gaze lingered on his hands as she drank and his fingers twitched on their own. 

He clenched his fists and turned away. He couldn’t bear that look from her—like he was that weak, helpless boy who cried for help, someone reduced to his past and ghosts.

‘We all have scars, shadowsinger.’ Her voice carried a note of tenderness. ‘You bear yours on your skin.’

When Azriel turned back, she was peering at his fists unfazed. She didn’t flinch away with disgust or cower when he caught her inspecting them. 

Ayla opened her palms to him. ‘May I?’

The last time she touched his skin, Azriel was too lost in her to notice. This, he wasn’t prepared for, nor could he forget.

‘You can refuse me,’ she said. Her hands rested on the counter between them as a sign of reassurance that the choice was truly his. 

Many had desired what Ayla asked of him. Even Mor at one time after she learnt the truth from Rhys. But it was Azriel who always chose who and when he touched, never the other way around. The only person he ever let feel his hands was his mother once the bandages were removed.

Slowly, he offered his hand to her. At the graze of her fingertips on his knuckles, he sucked in a sharp breath.

Ayla held his gaze, waiting, allowing him the chance to kill her curiosity. When Azriel didn’t resist, she comforted him with a smile before lowering her eyes. 

For a long time, she only observed, taking in every ugly ridge and wrinkle on his skin. She held his hand in both of hers, her fingers barely touching him. Her thumbs weaved through his digits and stroked his palm, eliciting a jolt through his spine with each traversed path.

We all have scars.

What scars did she possess? Were they a reminder on her skin like his? That thought alone birthed a hunger in him to inflict pain onto the world. 

How could anyone wish to hurt her? A woman whose eyes beheld compassion instead of pity for a cursed soul like him? The one who cradled his marred hand as a sacred relic deserving of her utmost care? The one whose face softened with a kind smile as she marked every inch of his scars with her smooth touch?

‘I wish,’ Ayla breathed, ‘they had treated you better.’

Azriel realised it then. Why Mother burdened him with a loveless life for five centuries. Why Mor didn’t accept him. Why Elain was never meant to be his. 

So he could belong to Ayla. And he would endure the heartache again for eternity if Mother promised him one lifetime with her.

Her fingers stilled, hovering over his palm. ‘Did they pay for this?’

Ayla’s face was that of an ardent believer of forgiveness—warmth radiating from her every time a smile adorned her lips. She cared for Raya and Uri. She protected a child endangering herself. She sheltered a homeless hag.

But Azriel had also witnessed her choke a male defending a fae. 

Which one was he—one worthy of her generosity or her wrath? 

Was he the same innocent boy deserving of justice after the blood he spilt with his own hands? Or was he a sinner for how he punished his half-brothers? What would appease the woman in front of him cradling his hand with a gentleness that rivalled a mother’s touch—that they were forgiven and shown the path of kindness, or they were ripped to shreds by his own tortured hands like they deserved?

No, the word inched closer to the tip of his tongue, ready to satiate his mate with a simple lie. One to keep her from running away from him. ‘Yes.’

The corner of her lips curled up, ever so delicately, and she murmured. ‘Good.’ 

When a frown etched between her brows, he knew her next question well. He grappled at everything he learned of her to lead her elsewhere. 

‘Can I see your dagger?’ She asked softly. 

Azriel almost laughed. One minute, his heart ached with the weight of his past, and the next, with joy and need.

Her back arched over the counter and she leaned low. She narrowed her eyes, prodding at his palm and pinching his fingertips. ‘Do you need special hilts? For your hands, the grip on them should be interesting.’

Oh, Azriel would prove his grip all right.

His shadows buzzed by his ears sensing his insidious thoughts. 

‘Maybe next time,’ he said, easing his hand out of her grip. What an idiot he was denying her the very thing he craved—her skin against his.

Her brow raised but she smiled. ‘Planning ahead, are we?’

It was neither a threat nor a refusal.

Refilling the glass, Azriel nodded at her wrist. ‘Did you make that?’

Ayla glanced at her bracelet before emptying their drink. ‘Orvin did. Leather and innovation are his specialities. I’m better with traditional weaponry.’ She poured another glass and Azriel grabbed it before she could. ‘I don’t carry weapons, so he made it for my travels.’

So close, the rings appeared more silver than gold but lacked the lustre of either. ‘What is it made of?’

‘It’s something I’m working on.’ Ayla threaded her third and fourth fingers through the rings and pulled, slowly revealing the cords. A trilling echoed in the air as they strummed from the strain. ‘See,’ she looked up at him, her eyes bright and eager. ‘It’s malleable under tension. It may not look like it, but it’s tougher than steel.’

She flexed her fingers and the rings whizzed back to the bracelet in a blink. Her smile widened.

Azriel set the glass down and reached for her wrist. Then, he stopped. When he turned to her, she nodded twice, extending her arm towards him. 

His fingers were thicker than hers. The rings barely slipped past his nails. The heat from her skin still warmed the metal. 

Ayla leaned close and Azriel held his breath. She curled his fingers, trapping the rings between his knuckles.

‘They are meant to be a little loose to manoeuvre them.’ She pointed at his half-closed fist, ‘You can’t get proper control if they’re snug. There’s also the danger of breaking your fingers during a fight.’

Azriel nodded and tested a little tug. His fingers trembled at the tension as though the cords fought back against him. Both times Ayla used it, she did so with an impressive ease that almost shamed his Illyrian strength.

She traced her fingers along the width of the bracelet. ‘Here’s where the tethers go. It remembers its form and reverts to it once you let go.’ Then she frowned, ‘But it’s not perfect yet. Leather gets worn out soon. We’re trying to replace it with metal but the slide and friction are hard to get around.’

Words tumbled out of her lips about metals and temperatures and mechanics. The more she talked, the further she edged towards him.

Azriel narrowed his eyes.

A smoky tendril teetered over her shoulder, one to the other. It coiled and wove itself with the loose ends of her hair, curving along her jaw carefully to not touch her skin. And as the rogue shadow nudged against her collar, swaying too close to her ear, he gritted his teeth. 

Ayla looked up at his silence.

Azriel nodded, bringing his gaze back to her face. Or did she ask him something?

He stared at his hand, the rings still in his grasp. He coiled the cord around his fist like she did on that first night. She was right—he could tolerate the strain better. He tugged and her hand slipped on the table, almost knocking the glass off. She caught it before the liquor spilt on him.

‘Hey,’ she laughed—sweet and soothing. His shadows sighed at the sound. ‘Careful!’ 

Azriel released the rings, letting go of the tether, letting go of her.

But Ayla didn’t move back. She drank, smiling. 

Lights hit the crystals on the shelf right and their glow echoed around her like a gentle halo—turning her into the ethereal being she was. Her eyes sparkled with mirth and her cheeks flushed warm. She licked the remnants of the liquor from her bottom lip as she emptied the bottle and nudged the drink towards him.

Azriel willed himself to breathe. Placing his finger on the rim, he turned the glass around. When he brought it to his lips, his tongue darted out to gather the wetness still stuck to it, where her lips had been not a moment ago. He took a long sip, savouring every drop of the burning nectar she offered.

Ayla stared at him—his parted lips, the column of his throat as he swallowed. Her inhaled breath stuck in her throat. As Azriel set the glass down, her eyes followed it before they flashed to his. 

Far, his mind screamed, too fucking far. 

But Azriel noticed the slight twitch of her lips before her gaze flicked to his side. A thread of shadow curled around his ear. 

A lock clicked beyond the wall. Ayla looked over her shoulder at the closed office door, sinking her teeth into her lip.

Raya, his shadows announced.

‘That’s my bartender,’ her voice took on a lower note, more melodious than ever. She swallowed a breath and turned to him. ‘We’ll be opening soon.’

Azriel waited. 

Ayla didn’t move.

He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. 

Metal clanked and scratched against the wood as her fingers splayed on the counter. When her lips moved with his, Azriel buried his other hand into her hair—her beautiful, silkened hair. 

He swept his tongue against her lips, wide and hungry. Honeyed sweetness from their drink lingered on them, and beneath it, he tasted her. A shiver raked through him, every nerve in his body awakening at her kiss. When she gasped, he stole the little breath from between her lips. She didn’t resist. 

Gods, not once did she resist.

Azriel kissed her. 

He kissed her with every piece of his heart. He kissed her for the centuries he waited for her. He kissed her for the moments wasted between them, and the moments he would miss until next time.

Here.

Feet stomped close on the other side of the door.

Azriel pulled away, dropping his hands.

The door opened.

‘People generally rest in their bed,’ groaned Raya entering the room. Her mouth fell open when she spotted him, her wide eyes darting between him and Ayla.

Azriel only watched his mate. Her hair, ruined by his hands. Her cheeks aglow golden with a flush. Her lips pursed—wet, swollen, and all the more inviting.

But the light in her eyes, the playfulness, faded.

He stumbled back from the stool. 

‘Thanks for the drink.’

And he left without looking back.

Next Chapter: History

[finelinevogue]

birthday boy

summary - harry’s birthday party ends up with cake frosting in his hair and your eyes

warnings: twinge of sadness but like it’s barely even there tbh, swearing, kissing, lots n lots of frosting

word count: +2.3k

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

“Anyone need a top up?”

You were laughing with Glenne as she finished telling a funny story about her new intern. You couldn’t really hear what the story had been about, due to the obscene amount of noise in the room, but you laughed anyway.

“Yes please!” Glenne slurred, drunk on her birthday alcohol.

You were just as drunk, not because it was your birthday but because it was your fiancé’s birthday.

“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.

“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.

After you’d both thanked the server politely, you both returned to your conversations with each other. You’d both just needed a moment away from crowds to catch up on the evening gossip so far, so you’d come to sit on the velvet sofas in the corner of the room.

“Y/N, I have to say, you did a fabulous job on decorations this year.” Glenne cheered.

“I did?”

You looked around the room and evaluated what you had achieved. The mirrorball in the middle of the room shone a thousand diamonds down onto the dance floor, which was a black and white chessboard set up. There were fairy lights hung up around the walls. A balloon arch was in another corner of the room, where there was a rose wall behind it, for photo opportunities.

“Yeah! I love it!” Glenne looked around the room too, taking in all your hard work. “Jeff could never pull off something like this.”

It had taken you a couple of hours to set up the decorations and Harry had been all pouty that you had to leave him for so long on his birthday, but when you’d showed him what you’d been up to he fell in love with you a little bit more.

“I would’ve said neither could Harry, but something tells me he actually could.” You laughed, Glenne laughing along with you.

“Speaking of Harry… Have you two decided on a date yet?” Glenne nudged your leg with her heeled foot.

“Maybe May? I… We don’t know yet.” You sighed, shoulders slumping thinking about how you and Harry couldn’t agree on the perfect date for your wedding. “I mean, my dad can’t make any time in April, but Harry’s dad can’t make any time in June and we definitely want to be married before July, but…”

“Babe, woah, slow down. Y/N, this wedding, no matter how much you don’t want to upset anyone, is about you and Harry. It’s the one day in your life, apart from your birthday, where you get to be selfish. Take it as an opportunity to build a wedding day that you want, not anyone else.”

“Yeah you’re right.” You said so quietly not even Glenne heard.

“H’s version of a perfect wedding will be a day where you’re nothing short of perfectly happy.” Glenne shot back the rest of her champagne and placed it on the table in front of you two. “So, really, plan whatever you want.”

“Yeah” You nodded and placed your half full glass on the table too. “Alright, excuse me, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure.” She nodded and stood up herself, pulling down her short skirt and tottling off to find Jeff.

You walked past flurries of people, waving hello to people across the room who caught your eye. A lot of people you didn’t know, but Jeff had told you to send invites to because Harry and Glenne would know them. They were mainly Hollywood people that worked in the music industry, but there were a couple of faces you did know.

Gemma Chan was there and you made sure she knew you’d come and steal her away later for a catch up. Asif Ali was also there and you would have to go see him too, in order to bring some more smiles to your face.

After you’d finished in the toilets you walked back into the room to see a congregation in the middle of the room. Since you had organised the event and had no additional entertainment booked other than the live band, you were curious to see what was going on.

When you got to the back of the circle, trying to peer over the tall people at the back, you noticed Glenne sat on a chair with her back to Harry who was sat on another chair.

You could tell by the look in your fiancés eyes that he was very tipsy. His hair was messy on the top of his head from all the dancing around he had been doing this evening. He still hadn’t pulled you for a dance yet, but you two had been separated ever since you’d walked inside the venue. Harry was whisked away by Jeff to meet people, having a drink each time he came across someone new, and before you knew it he was dancing to Gloria Gaynor with the chief executive of Columbia.

You missed him.

When it came to events like these, even though it was actually his birthday, he was always so whisked up in the business side of it that you had to entertain yourself. It was never that Harry abandoned you, but you would rather not have to over-socialise. You put it down to your social anxiety and fear of social burnout.

“Now, a little surprise for my two best friends.” Jeff spoke into a microphone so he could be heard by everyone.

Some sensual music started playing and you automatically assumed that it was strippers. Your heart sunk at the thought of Harry having a gorgeous girl straddle him and perform intimate positions with him. It would be unkind of Jeff if he had planned something like that. Your heart lightened when you saw Jeff stand in front of Glenne and start pulling off his jacket sexily, before rounding to Harry’s side and wiggling his bum in Harry’s face. Harry’s drunk self slapped Jeff’s bum and everyone laughed. Even you.

Harry looked around the crowd, his eyes not pausing their movement until they met yours. The mischievous glint in his eyes made you wonder what he was thinking. No doubt it was something to do with wanting you as his lap dance, rather than Jeff. Jeff was doing a good job though, making everyone laugh and making his wife embarrassed that she ever married him. Luckily everyone was too drunk to care.

After Jeff buttoned his shirt back up and put his jacket on, he was handed back the microphone, nodded at you and you knew that was your queue to go and get the cake. They were sharing a cake, as they often did, so you picked it up from the kitchen with its candles and sparklers in before carrying it back carefully.

When you returned to the room, the lights went dim and the birthday tune started to play. People made way for you to squeeze through the crowd as you walked towards the birthday kids.

You smiled when Harry’s gaze caught yours. He mouthed ‘wow’ at you, but you knew he wasn’t saying it about the cake. As you stopped short in front of both Glenne and Harry, they stood together whilst people finished the song. You sang out too, looking at Harry the entire time and watched his smile remain constant as he watched you sing out.

The cake was heavy and Harry must have noticed because he picked up the side closest to him and took the weight off you slightly. As the song finished Harry and Glenne both shared the job of blowing out the candles.

Jeff helped take off the candles and sparkler to clear the cake so it was just a plain cake remaining. Harry took the opportunity to try and smash Glenne’s face into the cake, but she restrained enough to resist the force of his hand. Harry wasn’t paying attention to Jeff though and missed him coming behind him and pushed his head down into the cake, until it was too late. The side of his face and a loose curl of hair got caught up in the frosting and people cheered as he made a mess of his face.

You laughed as he stood back up and licked the frosting from the corner of his mouth, as if that was all there was to clean up. You stood still holding the cake and looking at Harry with endearment. He looked so soft and cuddly, and maybe a little delicious too.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry asked, as he lifted the strand of hair back onto his head even when it was still full of vanilla frosting.

You shook your head and laughed at him, knowing he would be a mess to clean up later. It wasn’t a second later after that thought that Harry used his own hand to push your face into the cake this time. He also pulled your head back, using your hair, so you didn’t suffocate inside the sponge. You managed to get more on your face, looking like you were wearing a face mask. So much so you couldn’t open your eyes.

“Fucking dickhead.” You muttered, but it turned into a chuckle because you were drunk and didn’t care.

Harry must have asked someone else to get a hand on the cake so it wasn’t your responsibility anymore. It wasn’t like it was very edible to anyone, considering it now had to face impressions in it.

You felt Harry take your hands, your eyes still closed from the frosting, and you could feel him guiding you through the crowds of people. His hands were warm and even though you couldn’t see whether it was him that was leading you off, you could feel it in your hands that it was Harry.

No one else's hands felt like home other than his.

His hands cupped perfectly in yours and you tailed him like a bind and lovesick puppy. His polite excuses to get through the crowd made him feel closer to you also, his voice so comforting.

When the crowd noise disappeared you assumed you must have been in a quieter room now.

“Harry where are…”

You couldn’t ask him more than that because his lips were on yours. And they were his because no one else's lips felt like home other than his. They were perfect against yours, moving over yours with such delicate precision that only came with knowing how best to kiss you. Harry knew exactly how you liked to be kissed and he was doing everything you wanted. His hands were even cupped in the right places under your jaw.

“You taste like frosting.” He chuckled.

You laughed with him, probably looking silly with frosting in your eyes. Harry had frosting in his hair though and there was no one that you’d rather be in this situation in rather than him.

“Happy birthday, H.”

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You felt Harry’s fingers wipe carefully over your eyes and relieve them of frosting. You opened your eyes carefully to watch Harry lick the frosting off his fingers with his tongue. He then brought his other finger to your lips to allow you to lick it clean, which he watched with beady eyes as you did.

“Good frosting.” You hummed in delight, knowing you had made the right call with the vanilla, not strawberry, frosting.

“Mm. Tasted better off your face.”

You laughed, hitting him softly over his ribs, “Oh, stop it you.”

“Never.” He shook his head and smiled at how he managed to make you laugh.

“I hope you had a good night tonight.”

Harry had looked like he had had a good night, but you could never be too sure until you asked him. He was very good at putting on a front, especially in show business , but with you he was nothing but honest.

“I loved it, baby, I really did. Just wish I got to spend more time with you. I mean, I love my friends and, y’know, all of them other people… but they’re not you.”

You pouted, somehow wishing you could’ve spent more time with him. You tried your hardest to finish all the decorations as quickly as possible, but you were a perfectionist so it did take longer than originally planned. As for the party itself, you couldn’t stop him from talking to people, no matter how badly you did want him all to yourself.

“Sorry.”

“No, baby, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for. Just one of those things, where too many people want my attention and yet I only want yours.” He shrugged his shoulders and he made you smile.

“You always have my attention.” You promised him, cupping his cheek softly.

“And I’ll try to give you more of mine this year. In fact, come my next birthday you’ll be sick of me.” He chuckled and stepped closer to you, not liking the 10cm of space between you.

“Could never get sick of you, H. Never.”

“Feelings mutual, lovie.”

He leant down to kiss you again, kissing your bottom lip with his and sucking on it lightly. His lips grounded you and reminded you that he was right here and he was all yours. You kissed back with force, wanting to show how much you really did love him, pushing into his lips with your own.

A minute later and your lips both raw from such loving kissing, you gave each other one last peck.

“More of that later, baby. For now, let’s go the chippy? I’m fucking starving.” Harry whined.

“Alright, birthday boy, let’s go.” And the rest of the evening was filled with chips, gravy and lots and lots of love.

[genderkoolaid]

Cw: "Aaron" Bushnell https://www.assignedmedia.org/breaking-news/bushnell-gaza-immolation-protest-trans-identity

I thought I should let you know if you didn't already. Rip Lilly

While there is evidence pointing to Lilly/Aaron being trans, I still think we should be careful in how we talk about it. I don't really have a problem agreeing that the username and the reddit history does feel like someone who, at least, is exploring their gender identity. A person who says they knew him/her in life is very insistent that s/he could not have been a trans woman based on private information. However, others who have said they spoke with him/her online frequently insist s/he went by Lilly and used she/her and he/him. Although I don't think there's any reason necessarily for those folks to be lying, I do wish there were actual screenshots of the pronoun use in discord servers? Given that rn the conversation is just People Online Making Claims.

I'm still unsure of how I feel we should talk about this tbh. Lilly/Aaron was very deliberate in how s/he presented his/her gender to the public. As the person interviewed says, I don't think Bushnell would be upset by being seen as trans if s/he was a cis man. But even if s/he was trans, I am hesitant to make assumptions about what is best for a trans person's legacy. The issue of trans recognition in death is very sensitive for most of us, so I understand why people are so invested in this. But it should be kept in mind that the discussion around Bushnell's gender should not overshadow support for Palestinians. That was his/her goal and its clear that s/he cared more about that than making a statement about his/her own gender. It is fully possible for a trans person to make the decision to let themselves be assumed cis, and be comfortable in that decision, and its not up to other trans people to decide whether they made the wrong decision with their own legacy.

Its possible s/he made that decision solely because s/he wanted to prevent his/her message from being derailed by transmisogyny. But again, that shows to me that s/he wanted more than anything for his/her death to be focused entirely on raising support for Palestine. I don't want to be patronizing about Lilly/Aarons's decisions and I definitely don't want any Discourse on this to do exactly what s/he was trying to avoid. Additionally, Bushnell is reported as having used he/she pronouns. The person who claims s/he used both uses both Aaron and Lilly. Its very easy for genderqueer and nonbinary people to have their identities reduced to binaries in death, even by other trans people. If s/he was trans, why are we making assumptions about if s/he was fine with being called a woman, or that s/he wasn't okay with being called a man? There is too much grey space and too much exorsexism that goes unchallenged in our community for me to not feel the need to point this out.

Anyways. I guess my Take on this is that both trans and suicidal people tend to have our choices undermined, and have people on all sides debate over what we Really mean and what we Really want. We are rarely seen as being the experts on ourselves, or having our autonomy respected even when it makes others confused or uncomfortable. I don't think anyone online discussing this can have a full picture of The Truth. Like I said, I don't think there's any reason to assume people claiming they knew Lilly and that s/he used she/her and he/him pronouns are lying right now. But more than anything I'm concerned that the debate over this could end up doing exactly what Lilly/Aaron was trying to avoid. And I don't think its my place to insist any trans person has to be out. I want to respect what s/he wanted for his/her legacy. I don't want him/her to be a trans hero if that results in detracting from his/her goals.

I think this is part of larger moral issue trans activists have to deal with when it comes to trans history: when is it okay for us to correct the language someone used for themselves? When is it illuminating and respectful, and when is it whitewashing someone's own self-perspective to fit our goals? Bushnell was extremely purposeful in everything s/he did as a part of his/her suicide, and that includes how s/he presented his/her gender. I don't want to disrespect those decisions.

[yaksha-lover]

Wishes of Love

Summary: For Leona’s birthday, you decide to take him out for a date and him something handmade.

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

“I told you, tonight is on me,” you say, tugging him into the restaurant.

The smell of all kinds of delicious grilled meat fills your nose as soon as you enter the restaurant. Based on Leona’s hum of appreciation, you picked the place correctly.

“On you? Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I don’t need anyone to take care of my meals,” he scoffs gently.

“I know you don’t need me to, but I want to anyway. Please? I want to treat you.”

“We’ll see.” Leona rolls his eyes, but it’s mostly just for show.

The server shows you to your table and the two of you take a seat across from each other.

“So, you want to do gifts now or later?”

“Never,” he deadpans.

“Now it is.” You smile at his annoyance, placing a gift bag in front of him. You carried it in from the car, so he’d already known it was coming, but he grumbles about it anyway.

Unwrapping the gift with a wary look, he picks up the dark green scarf you’d crocheted for him. “What the hell is this?”

“A scarf?” You joke, despite the sudden awkwardness you feel. “I made it. I thought you could wear it for your upcoming trip. I know you don’t have many clothes meant for cold weather. You uh- you don’t like it?” you ask. You hadn’t thought he would be jumping with joy, but even this reaction from him was unexpected.

“It’s not that. I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Look, I know it’s probably not of the quality you usually wear, but I thought it could be something special. Sorry, if you really don’t like it I’ll take it back-”

“What, you’re trying to take my gift back now? This is mine,” he says, slipping the scarf around his neck, despite being in the middle of the restaurant and the intense heat of the summer.

“But, Leona-”

“No buts. Keep your grubby herbivore hands off of my scarf.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. Leona never acts straightforward, but you can’t help but enjoy his brand of love.

Despite the strange looks the waiter gives him, Leona refuses to remove the scarf throughout the night. He keeps it snugly wrapped around his neck, one end fashionably thrown behind his back.

The two of you chat lightly throughout the meal, discussing anything and everything. A comfortable silence settles between you as you eat. Leona remains focused on his steak, and you admire how cute he looks so focused on his favourite food.

He speaks suddenly, a few minutes later. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“The trip you mentioned in the north. Falena wants me to go for some diplomatic process, but there’s no reason you can’t come along.”

“I don’t know, Leona…What if your brother is upset? Does he even know you’re seeing someone?”

“Of course he knows about you,” he states bluntly. When he realizes what he’s said, Leona is surprisingly flustered. “I meant, he probably does, I don’t know. Who cares what he thinks?”

“Leona…do you talk about me at home?” you tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, ears turned-down.

“You do! You’re so cute,” you laugh.

“Cute?! I’m not cute. You’ll see later tonight, I’m far from the gentle beast you seem to be making me out to be.”

Now it’s your turn to be flustered by his forward words. “Leona, not in public.” You kick him gently under the table.

He snickers at your embarrassment.

You’re tempted to tell the waiter that it’s his birthday so he’ll be forced to suffer the humiliation of having the entire restaurant sing for him, but you know he’ll kill you, so you let him have the last laugh.

In return, he allows you to pay for dinner as you wished. You find out later that he transferred twice the amount of the dinner into your account, but for now you are satisfied at your win. The two of you stand to walk out together, and you hold his hand. Normally he would make a show of complaining about you being clingy, but tonight he releases your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulder instead. It feels safe and warm, being in his arms.

Arriving at the car, he opens the passenger side door for you, motioning for you to get in. The two of you drive home, the radio playing gently in the background. Although the dinner date is technically over, your night with him is only just beginning.

Looking up at the night sky, you silently wish upon a star that you’ll be able to spend many more birthdays with your lion prince.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not changing my OCs backstory?

Saw some recent posts about people fighting over RP characters so I thought I'd throw mine in.

I (F25) am in a RP server for peoples OCs. It's a small server for friends or friends-of-friends so everyone is either a friend or an aquaintence.

There's a channel specifically for people to post their OCs to see if anyone wants to RP with them. The posts are basically references with the characters name, appearance, backstory, etc. and a list of things the person wants to RP with them (smut, angst, medieval, coffee shop, roomates, etc.)

Anyways, I started RPing with two other people, Amy (F23) and Jenny (F25) recently and things were going good. We were doing a modern with magic type RP and all of our OCs met each other at a bar.

Eventually as the RP progressed my OC revealed that she thought she was a lesbian and then realized she was bi (they were all sitting at a table together commenting on other people in the bar and who they thought was cute).

Amy suddenly stopped responding to the RP so it was just me and Jenny, and I just figured that Amy was busy with college stuff so I didn't want to bug her about responding.

A few days later I get a DM from Jenny saying that Amy is REALLY uncomfortable with my OCs backstory. I'm of course confused and ask her why Amy didn't just message me. She told me Amy was really upset and didn't want to talk about it. I say "If she doesn't want to talk about it why is she telling you to tell me? If she has a problem she needs to tell me so I can fix it."

About 20 minutes later I get a message from Amy with a list of problems she has with my OC. The list said:

My OC is lesbophobic.

Your OC is saying that being lesbian is a phase (not at all what my OC's dialogue said during the scene, the word "phase" was never once used).

There's not enough lesbian rep in things and you're taking away even more.

You're replacing actual lesbian rep with an inferior straight character (yes, she used the word inferior).

She basically demanded that I change her backstory and make her a lesbian again, or AT LEAST make sure she ends up in a relationship with another woman.

I was pissed.

I replied back and said:

"Please go back and highlight the dialogue line where my OC stated that being a lesbian was a phase, because I searched the word "phase" in our channel and I couldn't find it. That word wasn't even used once during our RP, by any of us.

Also, there's nothing wrong with something being a "phase". People don't get one chance to pick a sexuality or gender and then get stuck with it for the rest of their life. Sometimes it takes people a while to figure themselves out. Sometimes things change.

My OCs sexuality is literally based on my own personal experiences. I thought I was straight, and then I thought I was a lesbian, and now I realize that I'm actually bi. I'm not lesbophobic for changing my mind, that's not what that word means.

If you want more lesbien rep then go make more lesbian characters. I'm not "taking away rep" because it was never there in the first place, and again, my OC is based on my OWN EXPERIENCES, and I as a person do not exist to provide representation. Why is lesbian rep more important than bi rep? I can name multiple, canon lesbian characters but I can only think of one character that canonically likes men and women.

I'm not replacing lesbian relationships with a straight relationship because even if she dated a man she would still be bi, not straight. It's fucking disgusting that you think a relationship or person is "inferior" because they're not the sexuality you want them to be. She's based on me, do you think I'm inferior for something completely out of my control?

I'm not changing shit about her backstory, especially not to coddle the feelings of biphobes."

She responded with a huge rant that I'm not going to post here but the TLDR is "You're lesbophobic and you hate lesbians and you're awful and dangerous and you don't care about good rep fuck you." and then blocked me.

I told Jenny what Amy had said and she said "Idk, it's not really a big deal to change it? It was a small part of her story and it made Amy uncomfortable :/"

So AITA for not changing it?

It IS a small, insignificant part of her story that wouldn't change anything if I removed it but for me it's the principle: I'm tired of bisexual characters (and people!) being treated as lesser or not as good as "real" LGBT+ people/relationships.

Also I'm planning on making comics with my OCs and I make sure that there's at least a few lesbian, gay, trans, etc. characters in each story so that EVERYONE gets rep. Which matters way more to me than "rep" that only like 15 people in a discord server will see.

What are these acronyms?