#apologies to the owner of the ocs if it’s too much

[mintcarus]

I don’t know pretend there’s something smart here about the implications of dating a god or whatever.

the characters belong to @trenchcoat-gecko!

[onlyswan]

summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

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“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[person-of-varying-obsessions]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Drabble - Proposal

**This is based on an idea I had for a Lucifer x OC storyline I was working on before, but I thought it'd be fun to convert it into a more general Lucifer x Reader drabble**

When it comes time for you two to be thinking about marriage, it's Lucifer who makes the first move, much to their future surprise. He plans out everything. A whole day is made out of it, with him leaving early in the morning to make sure he can prep everything ahead of time.

The next day comes around, and you wake up to an empty bed and a doodled-on note on your nightstand. It's clearly Lucifer's handwriting, and it apologizes for his absence but tells you to follow the clues on these notes to find him.

For the first clue, you're led to the bookstore you frequent with Lucifer that's known for acquiring books from Earth. The owner, Draznall, sees you and hands over a book filled with sticky notes.

You open the book and find that every sticky note is marked for the best parts of the story. Some are sweet, a couple funny, and a few are very spicy.

On the back cover is a note similar to the one left on their nightstand, this one telling you to pick a color before following the next hint. You keep one in mind before leaving, giving the shop owner a friendly wave goodbye on your way out.

The next couple of stops are to your favorite food places and trinket stores. When it gets to be too much to carry at once, as if waiting in the wings, one of Lucifer's clones appears and takes everything handed to it without a word before leaving through a portal.

The latest hint alludes to the next being the last before you get to see Lucifer. A grand boutique towered above you, and, when you stepped inside, an attendant immediately joined you, ushering you towards the back. Once you're escorted to what looks to be a fitting room, the attendant leaves, replaced by the boutique's head tailor. He gushes over you, saying you're "just as beautiful/handsome/lovely as the king said you'd be". Before you can ask any questions, he leads you into a changing room, saying you need to pick an outfit to wear for your dinner tonight.

Despite your confusion, you settle on something comfortable but fancy from the selection. When you step out, the tailor ushers you to a vanity with various accessories laid out that perfectly match your outfit.

After handing you the last note, he motioned you off, wishing you luck with the rest of your evening.

The note led you to the nicest restaurant in Pentagram City. "Tell them you have a reservation for Lucifer", the note said. So you did exactly that. The person behind the podium's eyes widened before they ran off to fetch the manager. The manager appeared and bowed, asking you to follow him to their reservation.

The space was dimly lit, candles placed on vacant tables lighting your way to the main attraction: a single round table with a bright candelabra at its center. Settled near the base of the candelabra were two rubber ducks. As you moved closer, you saw one was your identical duck counterpart while the other perfectly resembled Lucifer. But a shimmer caught your eye; a ring glittered at the chest of the Lucifer duck.

"Do you like it?"

Whipping around, you smiled as Lucifer walked into the light. He was dressed in a more ornate version of his usual suit, the only difference being the black swapped in place for the usual white.

"It's beautiful..."

"I'm glad you like it." He made his way to the table and tenderly picked up his duck look-alike, cradling it with both hands. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to you and dropped to one knee. "My dear... the time I've spent with you has made my eternity so much brighter. You were able to love me at my worst, willing to be patient with every whim and mistake I made. I hope I can manage to match your care and devotion... as your eternal partner."

Your eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt proposal. Falling to your knees, you wrapped your arms around him and held him tight, brushing your nose against the curve of his throat.

"Yes. A thousand times yes."

He sniffled beside you, and you felt him carefully set the duck aside so he could return your bone-crushing embrace. When you pulled back, you held out your hand for him to slip the ring onto. It fit like a glove, even somehow matching the outfit you'd picked.

Helping you to your feet, he led you to the table. A waiter came by and took your orders. You both chatted about the "adventure" he'd sent you on and what led to him deciding to propose.

Once dinner was done, he walked you back to the palace - he wanted some privacy to enjoy some time with his now-fiancee.

As you were walking, you said, "...Pink."

"Huh?"

"Your bookstore clue said to keep a color in mind for later. I pick Pink."

A bright golden blush quickly covered his face and neck. Pink was the scene between the heroine and their new partner, where they shared their first time after managing to defeat the man that had caused them so much misery. He had every word of that book memorized, and he'd made sure to remember what color sticky note was on which page/s.

He grinned despite himself. Pulling you closer, he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Pink it is."

[sunshineandspencer]

Much needed apology (Iridescent, Part 8)

Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: Thanks to the love and genius of one Penelope Garcia, Spencer knows exactly what to do to get Maeve to accept his apology and start forgiving him.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: swearing, spencer gets over himself finally

Parts: Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6, Pt7, Pt9

be added to the taglist

He knew he needed to go all out. With how badly he fucked up, just turning up and grovelling wouldn’t be enough. So he took Penelope’s advice.

Rushing down - and having to walk since Ava took the car - to the nearest store that he knew sold some decent wine. Glad that they only lived about fifteen minutes from work so that it wouldn’t take too long to get back to her apartment. The less time it took to apologise, the less time she had to stew and get angrier.

Finding the best bottle of rosé that money, and taste, could buy. Dragging an attendant along with him to make sure that he’s definitely getting the right thing. All the way to the card section, which was absolutely shit, so they swiftly abandoned that and went for the chocolates instead. Of course, she’s not a fan of American chocolate since she visited the UK, and so he gets her a bar of dark mint chocolate. The poor attendant quizzed on everything for their input, barely able to keep up with the genius whirlwind.

As they finally got to the tills, and the attendant rang up his items, she gave him a look. To be fair, he was desperately begging her to tell him where the nearest florist was.

“.. just how badly did you piss off your girlfriend?”

He hesitated, only a moment, but that gave him the time to realise how bitter his mouth had suddenly become at the prospect of having to say “not my girlfriend”. So he didn’t, giving a sheepish smile as he picked up the wine and the chocolate.

“She might not let me into her apartment.”

“Good luck man.” Laughing at him goodnaturedly as she gave him the receipt. “Florist is down the street, make sure you remind her that you were stupid, she’s perfect and you love her.”

Even as he walked out onto the street, it stuck to him in a way that he wasn’t sure he knew how to shake off.

‘You love her, you love her, you love her.’

But he doesn’t, he can’t. He’d only just come to terms with liking her for fuck’s sake. Surely he can’t love her yet - he definitely would’ve realised by now. He can’t.. he can’t be that oblivious to his own feelings that he fell in love without even fucking realising, right?

Absently, he wandered to the florists and bought a bouquet of lilacs, even letting the sweet old man behind the counter wrap them in brown paper, adding a ribbon around the chocolates and the wine.

When asked if he wanted to put a card with the flowers, Spencer nodded, and the man waited patiently for the message to write.

“Write.. I’m an idiot, you’re perfect and..” I love you “.. I’m sorry.”

The man gave him a look, probably for the less-than-romantic message. Nestling the card safely between the flowers and handing the items back over. Clearly, however, the man didn’t need to be profiler to realise Spencer was going off to apologise to someone.

Patting his hand softly as Spencer tried to manhandle it all into his arms, terrified of dropping the wine.

“Good luck.”

Thanking him, he hurried back out onto the streets and started walking. Once again realising just how shit of an idea it is to piss off the owner of the car they drive into work, having to walk home as quickly as possible. Dammit, it’s their car.

It had been nearly an hour now, and that was too long for her to think that she actually thinks that way about her. He needs to make this right.

Passing the little blue mini, which he has come to adore just as much as Ava, and going straight past it into the building. Using his own fob - which he had specially made after she purposely left him out in the rain - and irritably waited for the lift to get up to her floor.

Resisting the urge to use the spare key he had, knowing that barging in uninvited wasn’t the best idea, and knocking on the door.

Waiting, heart heavy and suffocating in his throat, as her footsteps got closer. The door swung open and.. she’s already glaring. How the hell did she know it was going to be him?

Thankfully, however, he watched her eyes drift down to the offerings he had for her, softening incrementally until they nearly looked like how they had before. Carefully handing over the bouquet so that he didn’t drop the wine or chocolates. Her eyes flicked to his, accusatory.

“These are my favourites.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She blinked, clearly she didn’t expect him to apologise so quickly. Especially not without teasing her first - she knows she had flour on her face.

“Spence, I-”

“No, please, let me apologise.” If his hands were free, he would’ve already been holding hers, damn chocolate and wine keeping his hands busy. “I was way out of line. I am worried about you taking on more work that you should, especially from people only taking advantage of how sweet you are. But it all came out so wrong. I didn’t mean to shout, or do it in front of so many people, I was going to say something on the way home tonight. I was overwhelmed and lashed out, but that isn’t an excuse and I shouldn’t have done it at all. I won’t do it again, ever.. unless you deserve it.”

The way she had been looking at him, clutching the flowers to her chest and just gazing at him through the apology, morphed into her usual smile at his teasing lilt returning at the end. Just what they both needed.

It did make him feel a hell of a lot better, seeing her smiling at him again, but she still hadn’t said anything.

Until she stepped aside and held the door open for him.

“Come on, I made too much pasta for myself.”

Stepping in, he can’t pinpoint why this feels different to when he comes in the morning, besides the obvious of course. Maybe because he’s going to spend (hopefully) more than ten minutes with her. 

“You’re making pasta?”

“Yep.”

“Even when half the flour ends up on your face instead?”

Ava pouted softly and swiped his arm as he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. But it was nice to have that little thing between them back. Considering he’d been pulling away from her, and then lashed out, she was sure they were going to have to go back to hating each other.

Not that she’d be able to do that now, or ever.

“Rossi gave me the recipe when I joined, this is the first chance I’ve had to make it.”

It’s incredible, really, how he’s able to hold such a casual conversation with her while his subconscious is screaming that he loves her for everything.

He follows her into the kitchen, he loves her. He sets down the wine and chocolates on the counter, he loves her. She shows him the recipe that she’s following, complaining all about Rossi’s vague measurements, and God, but he loves her.

His loving mantra being stopped short in its tracks when he spots the little pink elephant on her couch, seemingly waiting for her to come back.

“You kept the elephant?”

Once again, he gets a sharp look, as she finishes up the sauce, and he wonders what the hell he managed to do now. Giving her a soft, sheepish smile to hope that it would placate her a little - it worked.

“His name is Clementine, and he doesn’t like you right now.”

Scoffing, Spencer went through her cabinets to look for the wine glasses and plates. Giving his own little look, which she challenged immediately. What kind of idiot was he, thinking he could give her up?

“I gave him to you, he can’t hate me, I’m his father.”

“Well, you upset his mother, and I’m the favourite.”

When she caught his gaze again, he was pouring the wine, and she stuck her tongue out at him. Which he returned and made them both laugh, a sound that blended so well together and eased some more of the lingering irritation in her chest.

Oh who’s she kidding, she couldn’t ever be mad at him for too long. Him and his stupid face.

Whereas he was stuck on her words, he’d upset her. He hated that.

They’d decided to eat on the couch, their ‘child’ between them, which they kept trying to subtly drag closer to themselves and away from the other person. Each of them wanting to prove that they were the favourite. Ava switched on the tv, putting on Married At First Sight Australia, claiming it was the superior version, and he willingly indulged her this time. During an ad break, he gently nudged her shoulder with his.

“We’re alright, aren’t we?”

“You bought me wine, chocolates and flowers, you’ve been forgiven, Spence.”

“So.. we’re alright?”

She laughed softly, meeting his little grin with one of her own. Nudging his shoulder back, but staying there, leaning into him and resting her head on the shoulder as the reality show kept on playing in the background. 

“Yeah, we’re alright.”

Oh, he had to focus very hard on his breathing to make sure that she didn’t realise anything was different with him. Carefully laying his own head on top of hers.

“Great, good! I’m really sorry Ave, I take back everything I ever said that hurt you.”

“Even about my driving?”

Bastard didn’t even hesitate, spinning the spaghetti around his fork as his eyes flitted to the screen, finding himself getting into her show.

“No. You drive like a lunatic and I won’t let you behind the wheel.”

“.. little shit.”

Want more?! Good!

[geometricgiovanni]

YOU ARE NOW A PRETTY PRINCESS! ✨

This blog contains references to threats and violence. You have been warned.

(hey guys cool sexy man here to tell you first half is in-character, second half under cut is out-of-character)

HELLO! I MADE THIS ACCOUNT OUT OF SPITE OF THAT DISGUSTING THING THAT PLAGUES THIS GOD-FORSAKEN SITE!

NO, DON'T ASK ME ABOUT IT. IF YOU DO, I WILL CRUSH YOU! LETHALLY. You will feel pain. also he blocked me on all 8 of my accounts so um, y'know........

ASK ME THINGS! ASK ME TO DESCRIBE IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE! ASK ME TO DO OBSCURE ACTIVIES THAT WOULD SEVER MY LIMBS IF I HAD ANY!

So here's some info in a similar format to my other blog, some things, such as boundaries, will be copied and pasted:

Blog Information✨

This is an ask/rp blog for Jeremy from regretevator, specifically the Jeremy referenced in @displ3azant. I might use this blog to more freely talk about my specific headcanons about characters from the perspective of an outsider, so that account is likely the only specific one referenced on this blog.

Jeremy in this blog uses he/any!

MAIN TAGS:

#geometric asks - Asks

#geometric posts - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#ooc - Out-of-character post

BLOG OWNER 🔥

Hello! I am Hex! Yes, you will see me talking to myself! No, do not comment on it. Please refer to me using he/him or it/its pronouns.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @displ3azant - afformentioned Unpleasant rp blog

I'll try to respond to most asks with a drawing of some variety, and if it's something I can use to reveal little ass-shit and bull-dumps about my version of Jeremy.

Please note, however, I am not just one singular guy but also a senior who should really be spending his free time studying, so sometimes I will just give a text response.

Also to note: I am 17 years old, therefore a minor! Even if I was not a minor, I am still not comfortable with weird shit! Keep it in your fucking pants, asshole! Apologies if I sound rude, but holy shit the only blog gets SO many weird asks! I will just be blocking and ignoring any freaky anons, apologies if you are my friend trying to mess with me, but I genuinely cannot take any more risks.

Boundaries ✨

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

NSFW content: NSFW CONTENT IS NOT ALLOWED. I am a minor. Thx. Also, "suggestive" jokes are very selectively okay. Basically, if it makes me uncomfortable or is literally disgusting, it will be ignored and likely deleted, and I will probably make fun of you.

Roleplaying: I am totally okay with roleplaying and sending/responding to asks in character!

(ps: i'm also happy to rp with other regretevator ocs too, i think those r super duper cool)

That's all, really.

your mortal enemy,

-Hex

[sena-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Four

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: Self-harm, depression, religious guilt

a/n: This chapter takes place shortly after the events of episode seven. There will be a few small time skips in this chapter. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

Aerys sat quietly at the giant dinner table in the great hall of the castle he called home. Yet the place seemed so strange to him. He used his fork to poke lightly at the food on the plate before him. Aerys had little appetite and barely managed to stomach the salty vegetable stew of the first course. Today, Aegon married Helaena in a lavish ceremony. Aerys had not made it to the ceremony as he was feeling unwell. It wasn’t a complete lie. He had been unable to keep his breakfast down this morning. But the king made it clear that his presence at the feast was not optional. So here he was. Sitting miserably at the end of the hall, wishing he were anywhere else.

Aerys reached out to grasp the cup of sweet arbor red that sat beside his plate. It was his seventh cup of the night. The king had put a stop to Aerys drinking after they returned from Driftmark, but he allowed Aerys to indulge himself during the celebration. Before he could lift the cup, he felt a calloused hand covering his own. He followed the hand upward to find the face of the owner. It was Ser Otto. He threw Aerys a friendly smile, but his eyes did not match. It was a warning.

“Perhaps you’ve had enough, Lord Reyne.”

Aerys retracted his hand slowly and placed both hands on his lap.

He glared at the plate, biting his tongue. The loud chatter of the room all around him became muffled in his ears.

Aerys wanted to cry. The familiar sting in his eyes was becoming overwhelming. It took everything in the young man’s power to keep his composure. The inside of his mind was running wild. Is this what the rest of his life will look like? Feel like? He thought back on the past two weeks. The strain growing between him and Aegon was weighing heavily upon him. They had hardly spoken to one another. Their few interactions were brief and always under the supervision of his mother or grandfather. The entire time, Aerys picked nervously at the threads of his shirts as he tried to avoid the glares of Ser Otto and the Queen. 

Then, there was the news of Ser Laenor’s death and the rumors that Rhaenyra and Daemon had gotten rid of the knight so they could wed. Rhaenyra had sent a raven to Aerys, informing him of her marriage and denying all accusations. Aerys didn’t know what to believe anymore. It was all too much for him to handle.

Aerys felt hopeless. It felt like he was standing outside his body, watching rather than living.

He wanted to be wrapped safely in the warm furs in his bedchamber. Another wave of overwhelming sadness swept over him. Aerys pushed his chair back and cringed at the loud noise it made as it hit the stone floor. Suddenly, it felt like all the eyes in the room were on him. He cleared his throat.

“My apologies, my king, but I’m not feeling well. May I be excused?”

The king's dark indigo eyes stared at the young man. He thought for a moment before he nodded his head. Aerys ignored the glare from the hand. The chatter picked up once more as he departed from the great hall, though it was muffled in his ears. As he began making his way to his bedchamber, Aerys heard a voice call out. When he turned, he was met with pale white hair and violet eyes. 

“You left in quite a hurry; I was worried. Are you well?” Aegon asked softly.

Aerys was confused by his look of concern. Why would he come after him? Aerys let out a tired sigh. Perhaps he was overthinking it. 

“I am fine. I apologize for leaving. I’m afraid it was all just a bit overwhelming for me. You know how I feel about big events like this.” Aerys flashed him a small smile, hoping it would be convincing enough. 

Aegon stared at Aerys as if he were studying him. “Perhaps some fresh air would do you some good. Would you like me to accompany you?”

The thought of spending another moment with the prince made his stomach ache. Aerys smiled once again and gently shook his head.

“That is most kind of you, Prince Aegon, but I am fine. I’m sure your wife is missing your company.” 

The two stood in the hallway quietly. At that moment, Aerys wished for nothing more than the comfort of his oldest friend. But things were different now. What he needed was a moment of peace. A moment away from everyone, to be alone to gather his thoughts. The prince nodded, nervously picking at the skin around his fingernails.

“As you wish, Lord Reyne.”

He stepped back and turned to walk into the great hall, returning to the feast. Aerys stood there for a moment, silently fiddling with his nails. It was all too much for him. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be here. He did not wish to play the part of the happy old Aerys as his life fell apart right before his eyes. Aerys was tired of being trapped in this insufferable prison, but what could he do? He did not want to leave his home. The thought of leaving terrified him. The idea of being surrounded by people he did not know or trust made his chest hurt. The boy hardly knew most of the people in the great hall; most of them had come from Oldtown. Would this be the life the gods would curse him with? What had he done to deserve such cruelty?

He tried to think of what he had done to upset the gods. He always went to worship in the great sept as often as possible. Aerys also prayed to the old gods at the weirwood tree. He always thanked them for everything they had blessed him with in life. His family, his home, his life. So. . .why? Had he offended them somehow? Did he not pray hard enough? Did he not thank them enough? Aerys turned on his heels and stormed down the hall as fast as he could. 

Aerys could feel the tears as they streamed down his face. His hair bounced, and some fell in his eyes.

Frustrated, he roughly pushed his hair back. He grabbed the suffocating silver chain necklace around his neck and yanked it off, throwing it to the dirt. He had finally made it outside to the deserted old weirwood tree. Sobs escaped freely from his lips, and he did not attempt to hide them. Not that he could, even if he had tried. Aerys dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together to pray.

“Forgive me, gods, for I have sinned. I have committed a most horrific act. I’ve shamed my father. I’ve shamed my mother. I’ve disgraced myself and both my houses. A sickness has rooted itself in me. Please, gods, help me! Please, I beg you!”

The boy cried, hunched over, digging his hands into the dirt. The weirwood tree had tears of its own. Aerys raised himself to look at the moon. His knees were beginning to ache from being on the rough ground—another punishment he deserved. The boy struggled to catch his breath. His head throbbed in pain. Aerys reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small knife. He lifted his tunic to expose his stomach. The boy bit his lip as he placed the blade against his skin. It didn’t need to be deep, just enough to quiet the noise. It was a nasty habit he had picked up over the past two weeks. When he could no longer continue reopening the scab on his cheek. A cut here and there goes unnoticed. If the maids who sometimes helped him bathe did mention it, all he had to do was say it was an accident. They never questioned him; it wasn’t their place to do so.

He watched as the blood pooled and dripped down his stomach, painting his pale skin red. He lifted a finger to press into the wound, grunting at the sting that followed. It was not the ideal way to deal with his pain, but it worked. With a shuddering sigh, he pushed himself back onto his aching legs, hiding the blade in his pocket. Aerys felt his shirt begging to cling to his skin. Fortunately, his tunic was black, so it was unnoticeable even as the blood seeped through.

Aerys closed his eyes, clenching his hands into fists. I’m alright. Everything is fine, he whispered to himself over and over again. He waited until his breathing returned to normal, or at least as normal as it could be before he entered the castle. The celebration was still ongoing. Aerys could hear it even as he was walking up the stairs. He kept his head down, counting each step he took. All he wanted to do was sleep. His mind and his body were at their limit. Aerys didn’t even bother removing his boots as he entered his room. The boy just dropped onto his stomach, ignoring the pain of laying on the fresh cut. Perhaps he would feel better in the morning.

—

Aerys glared at the angry red line on his stomach. It had been two days since the wedding. The guilt and shame that always came after he hurt himself still gnawed at him. Yet he refused to look away. He always made himself look at what he had done. Aerys dropped his tunic, allowing it to hide the angry red mark, and turned his head up to look at his face. He patted down his unkempt hair, pushing it away from his forehead. The boy who stared back at him was a stranger. His eyes were void of emotion when he only wanted to cry. This is not me, he thought.

His mind drifted to Nyra. What would she think if she saw him like this? And what wouldn’t he do to be wrapped in her arms again? To have her play with his hair and tell him tales of her shared girlhood with his mother, as she had done many times before. His grandsire was right; her presence would be missed. There were many times he had found himself walking past her old apartments. He missed her. He missed the boys. It felt so wrong not being able to see them every day. Not being able to play with them or listen to Luke’s wild tales of the adventurers he would go on someday. The boy planned to make a name for himself like his grandfather, the sea snake, did.

A loud knock at the door brought Aerys back to the present. He walked over to the door, pulling it open. His eyes widened as he spotted Queen Alicent, with her sworn shield, Ser Criston, outside the door.

“Your grace,” he bowed his head in respect.

“May I come in?” She asked.

Aerys’ eyes shifted nervously between the queen and the white cloak. He nodded his head and moved to the side, allowing them entry.

“Wait outside the door, Ser Criston.” The woman ordered.

“Yes, my queen,” the knight nodded.

Aerys closed the door slowly, careful not to slam it. He followed the queen to the small table. 

“May we sit?” Queen Alicent asked.

“Of course, your grace,” Aerys responded almost immediately.

“A raven came this morning. I wanted to tell you the news myself,” Queen Alicent smiled.

“What news?” Aerys asked, anxiously awaiting a response.

“Word has come from Castamere. It seems your brother's wife is expecting a child. You are to be an uncle soon; congratulations, Aerys.”

Aerys smiled at the news. It was the first time he had genuinely smiled in weeks. His brother and sister-in-law were having a child, their first child. He would have to write to them right away. It had been some time since he wrote to his brother. Things had become so hectic for the both of them, with his life falling apart and his brother dealing with the frustrations of ruling a noble house. Once again, he found himself happy to have been born second. The pressure of ruling was something he could do without.

“That’s wonderful. Thank you for telling me about your grace.”

“Of course,” the woman replied.

A quiet silence echoed between them. Aerys gulped nervously. Was there something else? His fingers toyed with the ring around his finger, praying for his mother to give him strength. Queen Alicent stared at him, her face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling or what she would do.

“There was something else I wished to discuss with you.” She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat.

“About the incident that occurred two weeks ago. I wanted to apologize for my father. What he did-”

“Nothing happened, your grace. I-”

“Aerys,” the woman sighed.

He dropped his head, staring at his bare feet under the table.

“I know what happened. It was wrong for him to lay a hand on you. I wanted to assure you that it will never happen again.”

Aerys remained silent.

“But I also want to make sure you understand that what happened before my father found you two must never happen again.”

“It won't, your grace!” Aerys said hurriedly.

“I know it won’t,” Queen Alicent smiled. She placed her hands on the table, reaching out for his.

With shaking hands, Aerys moved, placing his hands into hers. Her grip was firm but gentle.

“I believe I understand all too well how you feel,” the queen hesitates, her brows scrunching together. “Matters of the heart can be so overwhelming for someone so young. Especially those that are forbidden to us..”

She kept her eyes on their connected hands. Aerys was confused by all of this. The woman always maintained such a regal appearance. It was hard to imagine her as anything else but the queen. It's hard to believe there was a time when she was just a girl, so tender and free—a time when she wasn’t the queen or the mother of the king's sons. 

“I understand things have been hard for you since Princess Rhaenyra’s departure. The two of you were always inseparable; I can imagine how difficult it must be to no longer have her at your side.”

Aerys raised his head to find the woman staring at him. Her eyes trailed over every inch of his face. She leaned forward, wiping away the tears from his face.

“But it is important that we refrain from acting on desire. You are of royal blood, Aerys. That means there are higher expectations placed upon you. You must be wary of the things you do. Whispers travel fast and cannot be unheard of. You must understand this.”

“I understand,” he said, nodding his head.

“I’m glad to hear that. Well, I'm afraid I must be off. You should send a raven to your brother and congratulate him.”

“I will, your grace. Thank you.”

Aerys escorted the woman to the door, pulling it open for her. Ser Criston stepped out of the way, allowing space for the queen to pass. The boy waited until they disappeared down the hall before closing the door. He turned and pressed his back against the door. Aerys lifted his head, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Agana, he needed to see Agana .

—

Aerys fiddled with his ring as he stood in the outer yard. He was waiting for the stable boy to ready his horse. The outer yard was busy and full of life. It distracted the boy from his problems as he watched everyone go about their business. 

“You're a difficult man to find these days,” a playful voice called from behind.

Aerys stilled, his stomach tensed up like a clenched fist.

“My apologies; I did not realize I was being sought out.” He turned, finally coming face to face with Aegon.

Aerys had successfully avoided the boy for two days, though it seemed his luck had just run out.

“Are you going somewhere?” The prince asked.

“I was going to the dragon pit. I’m sure Agana is missing the wind beneath her wings.” Aerys shrugged.

“I’ll come with you. No doubt Sunfyre is missing me.”

Aerys fought the urge to scream. He fought the urge to tell the boy to stay behind.

“If you wish,” he sighed.

Aerys waited for Aegon’s horse to be brought to him. The two quickly mounted their horses before they were off. They raced through the streets of King’s Landing. Aegon had challenged him to race, to see who could make it to the dragon pit first. It was a childish game, but Aerys found himself unable to ignore his taunts. Luckily, his white mare seemed to be leaving Aegon’s chestnut gelding in the dust. Aerys reached the dragon pit first, though only by a close second. Aerys gloated about his victory as the two entered the giant dragon pit. It was so strange. For a moment, it seemed like it used to be. Like nothing had changed, they were the same boys they used to be. The dragon keepers led the two under the dome to the man-made caves built to house the dragons. 

Sunfyre was the first to raise his head as the group approached. Two dragon keepers stayed with Aegon while the other two carried on. Aerys followed quietly behind the men as they led him to another cave. A rush of confidence filled his body as they grew closer. The cave was dark, even with the torches lit. 

Glowing emerald eyes stared at the two from the darkness. A low growl filled the air as the she-dragon began to stretch herself out. Aerys smiled as the iron gates began to open. He walked forward slowly and stopped when he stood before the dragon. The light of the torches glistened from her silver scales. The boy extended out his hand, waiting for the dragon to make the next move. Her eyes lingered on the dragon keepers momentarily before her gaze moved to her rider. She lowered her neck, allowing his hand to rub along her muzzle. 

“Rytsas arli, Agana.” He greeted her warmly.

The young lord could seldom go a day without visiting his dragon. She was a great comfort to him. Aerys quickly scaled his way up Agana’s back to his saddle. He strapped himself in as he waited for the outer doors of the cave to open. Agana stood to her feet and turned. Aerys swayed side to side with every step she took. The loud creaking out the gates was all that could be heard. The sky was clear. The gods were smiling down upon King’s Landing.

“Sōvēs,” he commanded.

The dragon let out a low roar as she ran forward, leaping into the sky as she reached the end of the cave. The sun shined down on the two of them. A loud chirp from behind them made the boy turn his head. Sunfyre was not far behind. Aerys smirked as he commanded Agana to go faster. It seemed the lord was anxious for another race. The two dragons soared through the skies together. Agana, being slightly bigger than Sunfyre, had the advantage. But the golden dragon and his rider seemed quite determined. The silver dragon pulled up higher into the sky until they were hidden in the clouds. It took only a short time for the other two to follow. Aerys quickly spotted the golden dragon hovering below in the clouds. Aegon had a hand over his eyes as he searched the sky.

“Dive, ñuhys zaldrīzys!” Aerys ordered.

Agana dove right past the golden dragon. Sunfyre let out a roar as he barely managed to move out of the way. Aerys laughed as he held on tightly to the reins. The racing carried on for some time. It was almost sunset before the four finally returned to the dragon pit. Aerys helped the dragon keepers escort Agana back to her den. He met Aegon at the entrance of the dragon pit. They mounted their horses once more.

“You cheated,” Aegon accused.

“I did not!” Aerys argued.

The debate continued as the two made their way through the streets. The boys burst into a fit of laughter.

“I missed this,” the prince sighed, reminiscing about their friendship.

“Me too,” Aerys huffed sadly.

“Aerys, I know things have been-”

“Aegon,” Aerys groaned, dreading what the prince would say next.

“No, just listen,” Aegon snapped. “You’re my oldest friend, Aerys. I don’t want to lose that. Can’t we just start over? Please?”

The two boys stared at one another. The clacking of hooves and the chatter of the city coming alive under the setting sun bridged the gap of silence. How could Aerys deny such a request? The ache he felt in his heart over the loss of his friend these last two weeks was unbearable. His heart aches for the familiarity, the warmth, and the sense of belonging that Aegon provided.

“I would like that,” he lied.

Things would never be as they were. How could they? They crossed over a bridge that had since crumbled to dust. But perhaps they could pretend. Maybe they could ignore the sounds of their hearts calling out for one another.

—

“The maester believes Helaena is with child.”

Aerys did not dare to look up from the pages of the giant book in his hands. The book held the histories of the great houses of Westeros. It was filled with so many outlandish stories that it was hard to believe many were true.

“Not surprising, you have been performing your duty.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Aegon groaned.

Aerys sighed, raising his head to look at the prince. Aegon was lying on Aerys’ bed with his head dangling off the side. His eyes were closed, and his fingers toyed with the laces of his tunic.

“You make it sound like we’re cattle or something.”

“I don’t mean to sound crass, but is it truthfully any different? I do believe having children is one, if not the main purpose of marriage.”

“I know it is! I just-” the prince groaned, hoisting himself up to sit. “I didn’t expect it to be... this soon.”

“It has been two moons since the wedding, Aegon. Surely, you knew it would happen soon. It only takes one time,” Aerys laughs.

“I’m glad my worries can bring you so much joy.”

“Oh, calm down, Aegon. I’m sure most men are frightened by the idea of becoming a father. You have time before the babe comes. Enough time to prepare yourself.” 

Aerys flashed him a reassuring smile before returning to his book. His fingertips toyed with the edges of the pages.

“But what if. . .” Aegon paused, furrowing his brows. “What if I’m not. . .good at it?”

Aerys slid the book forward on the table. He stood from his seat and walked over to the bed. They both stayed quiet as Aerys moved to sit in front of Aegon, taking the boy's hands into his own.

“Aegon, look at me,” Aerys whispered.

The prince remained staring at his lap. Aerys squeezed his hands to get his attention. The prince shamefully raised his head.

“I cannot guarantee that you will be the best father in the world or that you won’t make mistakes-”

“Your words give me such comfort.”

“Just listen,” Aerys laughed. “As I said, I make no guarantees. But I do know you, and I know that under your entitled, carefree attitude, you are a good person. All you can do is try Aegon. Who knows? Perhaps you may surprise yourself.”

Aegon shot the boy a playful glare. “When did you get so wise?”

“I always have been,” Aerys scoffed.

The two boys glared at each other before they shared a laugh. Aerys tried desperately to ignore the pang in his heart. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. Aegon is going to be a father. Aerys was supposed to be happy for him. So why wasn’t he?

[ja9-animations]

Gonna get real about my previous discord server for a minute. It's been a while and I've had time to reflect and explain why I left it since I didn't give much of an answer other then "personal reasons" and I think I'm in a better mental state overall to discuss it now.

The reason I made the server was to hopefully befriend people, share my oc artwork + lore around, and talk about common interests with other people. And at first everything was pretty good. I was talking to people and it felt like the beginning of many new friendships and good moments. I liked doing the garlic phone, art streams, and seeing everyone's artwork + hearing about their own oc's. There was even hummus lore which was fun at first for me. I did really enjoy the server at its peak and if things had stayed like that then I would still be the owner of it.

Things started to slow down in the server which I understand happens to every server and it didn't bother me much. But the friendships with people I thought I was creating never really progressed. There was also hummus lore which became a big thing for the other people involved, and I felt like I had to be apart of it to not disappoint them. On top of all this, people stopped joining my art streams and scheduling for garlic became incredibly difficult to do with hummus lore so those stopped too. The server to me became a stressful place I had to manage instead of a safe place where I could chill. Drama with moderating the server actually left me in tears, and I had contemplated for like two months if I really wanted to leave the server. Which I did choose to do. If it seemed like a sudden change for me at that time, these were the reasons I didn't share with anyone because I don't like to vent to people unless we are close friends.

With that being said, I think leaving the server was a good decision on my part because I do feel a lot less stressed, but I do still miss posting stuff there, and seeing all the cool things other people have posted. If anyone in my server has befriended someone, or made a good memory there, then I am really glad the server allowed you to do that. I probably won't make another server, unless maybe someone else moderates it instead of me but not right now.

One last thing, to the hummus lore group, sunny, leggy, echo, and crystal, I apologize for leaving the hummus group and I should have said something about not wanting to be apart of it a lot sooner then I did.

That's pretty much all I have to say on the matter. Thank you all for joining my server and I hope it's still a safe place for you to post and make friends.

[rosietrace]

「 You & I ≠ Always 」

⊱────────────────────⊰

Central Character(s) ; 『 Sumeragi Yuuta, “The Golden Rule” 』 | 『 “Rei-Rei”, “The Secret Silly Symphony 』

Others ; Octavia Fortunato | “Rei-Rei’s” Dad

Mentioned ; Inafuku Kenshō | Jamil Viper

Pairing(s) ; Yuuta & “Rei-Rei” (Platonic) | Yuuta & Octavia (Platonic) | Octavia & Jamil (Implied)

【 This is a short story important to the central character's story; All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: “Time is an illusion that helps things make sense; It seems unforgiving when a good thing ends; but You and I will always be back then.”

Warning(s): Angst hours, implied child abuse, bullying, the concept of ‘change’, shockingly longer than I thought, kinda projecting on some parts but let's not go into that, I apologize so much for this 😭 (it gets sorta wholesome at the end)

【 IMPORTANT NOTE: The characters of “Rei-Rei” and “Octavia” are by @/jasdiary, and are currently unreleased. Some details will remain vague until their eventual release. 】

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

⊱────────────────────⊰

⊱────────────────────⊰

“Alright, you two, times up.”

Having put a stop to a bloodbath of a pillow fight, Yuuta's frown was more akin to a pout; whereas Rei-Rei, still filled with adrenaline and feeling a bit too energetic to go to bed just yet, whined and flopped down on to her stomach on the bed.

Her father smiled, shaking his head and stepping into the room. “C'mon, Lucky Rabbit…” he picked her up in his arms, tucking her and Yuuta into bed.

“But dad!” Rei-Rei exclaimed, her voice righteous and fierce. “Me and Yuu haven't even finished pillow fighting!”

Her father rolled his eyes playfully, stroking her hair. “I know, Rabbit, but it's past your bedtime… and I already extended it for long enough.”

“Please, Mr. Rei-Rei’s Dad?” Yuuta pleaded shyly; he didn't know why, but he always felt more shy around his friend's father— at least, more shy than he already was. That odd sense of familiarity was no doubt strange to then eight year old Yuuta, who kept his then seven years old best friend in the dark about it.

Rei-Rei's father stared at Yuuta, his eyes soft. There it was again, that odd wave of familiarity, of nostalgia, as they locked eyes; even Rei-Rei, oblivious to that odd connection, tilted her head in curiosity.

Her father sighed softly, stroking Yuuta's head as well. “Maybe next time, Mouse… I can't let you two sleep too late.”

Rei-Rei pouted. “But dad-!”

She felt a swift tap of her nose, courtesy of the pad of her father's index finger. “Ah, ah, ah, young lady. Don't complain too much, now, I'll let you two stay up until midnight next time.”

“But next time could be ages!” Rei-Rei groaned, sitting up to stare up at her father with an adorable frown. “Yuuta's mom won't even let me go to his house!”

“Well, Rei, you know Mrs. Kenshō and her husband are very…” Rei-Rei's father trailed from his sentence, trying to find the right words without offending Yuuta's parents; who weren't even in the room with them.

“... Private. They're very private people, Rei.”

At the mention of his adopted mother, Yuuta seemingly sunk deeper into the mattress, obscuring the lower half of his face with a creased forehead.

Inafuku Kenshō wasn't what one would call pleasant. At least, not in the spectrum of raising a child she and her husband found off of the streets; Yuuta's relationship with both his parents was almost completely sterile.

They gave him whatever he wanted, but what good did that bring when the thing he really wanted was to spend time with either of them? And not in the way where he'd end up with handprints on his face, the blood rushing to the area to form an angry red.

No amount of materialism could prevent Yuuta from still feeling that sting, every now and again.

Rei-Rei's father let out a soft breath, shaking whatever thoughts he had away. Literally. He stood from the edge of his daughter's bed, kissing the top of both her and Yuuta's heads.

“I'll wake you two up tomorrow.”

Right before he was about to leave, Rei-Rei asked one more question: “Can you make onigiri for breakfast?”

That surprised a laugh out of her father. A soft, gut-wrenching laugh that made Yuuta think of the unlikely scenario he'd made up in it his head; that it were Rei-Rei's father raising him alongside his daughter and that, instead of bandaging his own wounds, Rei-Rei's father would bandage them himself.

Yuuta liked playing what-if, because of those scenarios. Scenarios that'll never become reality; even if he wished his hardest at the evening stars.

Shutting off the lights, the man smiled down at the two of them one last time, his only response to Rei-Rei's request being a small nod.

Finally, with the close of the door, Rei-Rei's father bid them good night— seemingly anticipating that the two balls of energy wouldn't truly be ‘asleep’; at least, not until their energy had saded.

The very moment her father closed the door, Rei-Rei peaked one eye open, listening closely for the footsteps of her father slowly getting farther and farther away.

She turned, lightly nudging Yuuta. “Psst! Yuuta!”

Yuuta's eyes opened. “Is he gone?”

She took one look back at the door, then at him, and nodded. “I think so!”

They both sat up with their backs against the headboard of Rei-Rei's twin sized bed. Taking a quick second to reach her hand beneath the bed, Rei-Rei took out a bag of potato chips she'd presumably been saving for what was currently past midnight. A post-midnight snack, if you will.

Carefully opening it without potentially waking anyone walking by — whether it be Rei-Rei's mother or father, it didn't matter — the two made the call that eating potato chips while it was way past their expected bedtime to be… a very bad idea.

Which they gladly took upon regardless of the consequences that could occur if they got caught!

They talked for what felt like an eternity, their conversations switching from different topics like clockwork; from theme parks, to junk food, to school life.

With school as their current subject, Rei-Rei began to ask Yuuta, “what do you think it'll be like?”

Puzzled, Yuuta replied with, “what what will be like?”

“Y'know!” Rei-Rei giggled, poking his shoulder with a cheeky smile. “Graduation! A new school!”

Yuuta and Rei-Rei were only eight and seven, respectively. And while that might've implied that they were one school year apart, they were born on the same year, only a few months apart.

With a purse of his lips, Yuuta didn't see much of the point on why his friend could bother with that kind of question. It wasn't like their elementary graduation was anywhere near— they still had a few more years to go before that could happen.

“I… I don't know.” He gave her a small shrug, tossing another potato chip into his mouth and chewing on it as quietly as he could manage.

“But aren't you cu… curi… curious? Curious!” Rei-Rei had the kind of smile that Yuuta would deem, ‘infectuous’. In a good way.

“I mean,”— Yuuta wiped his sour cream powdered hands with his pajamas, then went on to reach out and undo Rei-Rei's braids—“I guess a little.. what would it be like?”

“Dunno!” she flopped her head down on Yuuta's lap, closing her eyes while he undid her braids. Not quite tired, yet not nearly as energized as she was before.

“I just know it's gonna be… different. Would it be a good different?”

“I don't know…”

“Hmm… well, I want it to be a good different.”

As Yuuta laid down beside her, they both wrapped each other's arms into a hug. Rei-Rei let her head rest on Yuuta's shoulder.

“I wanna go to the same junior school as you,” Rei-Rei decreed, her voice soft, on the verge of a yawn.

“You do?” Yuuta had always assumed that he'd see Rei-Rei less and less as time went on, after graduating from elementary; until it would go to a point where he'd never see her at all.

“Mhm..” Rei-Rei snuggled closer, letting out a yawn. “You're my best friend, Yuu.”

Then, came the emotionally wrecking addition to that declaration that almost made a dam of emotion collapse onto Yuuta's being.

“And I don't want that to change.”

⊱───────────────⊰

Yuuta still stood at the entrance of his now, former elementary school. His certificate in one hand, Rei-Rei's hand in the other.

It was Rei-Rei and her parents that accompanied him to the school for graduation; his father was too busy with business investments, and his mother… he didn't know.

As Rei-Rei's mother took her away, thus slipping Rei-Rei's hand away from Yuuta's while she fussed about the current messiness of her daughter's tear-soaked face— her father bent down to Yuuta's level.

“You okay?” Rei-Rei's father asked him, a comforting hand on Yuuta's shoulder.

No, Yuuta answered in his head, I'm not.

Graduating from elementary hit Yuuta harder than he thought it would. All those memories, the teachers he'd grown attached to, many of the friends he made— most of, if not all of those, would end after the ceremony.

And it did. As everyone else had left the school hours ago to celebrate, Yuuta felt insistent on staying for just a moment longer. As if to grasp at straws to all those memories for as long as they could before he'd have to let go.

He sniffled, looking down with a small shake of his head. Even if he didn't voice his reply to Rei-Rei's father, Yuuta knew that the man crouching beside him was a very observant person.

He gave the best advice, Yuuta believed. When his own father wasn't around, Rei-Rei's father would pick Yuuta up to and from school.

Yuuta felt welcome every time he got the chance to visit Rei-Rei's house. He felt safe there in a way he never was in his own home. Like he belonged there, in a way he never felt in his home.

Rei-Rei's father stared at Yuuta, his brows furrowing in worry. He pulled Yuuta into a hug, and that was when Yuuta felt safe enough to cry.

“I'm-” Yuuta didn't like crying; his father always told him crying was only a waste of time. “I'm sorry—”

“Don't be…” Rei-Rei's father pulled him closer, resting his chin on the top of Yuuta's head and rubbing his back in as comforting of a manner as he could.

“You should never be ashamed to cry, Yuuta… it's just a part of being human.”

While her mother fussed about her messy hair, her dirty uniform, and her tear-soaked face, Rei-Rei stared sadly at Yuuta.

She always thought herself as the kind of girl that could fill silences. The kind that could brighten a room no matter the circumstance, and in turn, the people in that room who were having a less than pleasant mood.

But with Yuuta… she never wanted to think about it too much, but she always found it hard to comfort Yuuta.

Words never formed even when she wanted them to. She could only manage bringing Yuuta into a hug and telling him that it'll all work out in the end— it was always him that did the comforting, never her.

All she could do was to only hope for the best. For both her, Yuuta, and their friendship. And that it could last for as long as they lived.

⊱───────────────⊰

Why did it have to turn out like this?

Rei-Rei asked that question over, and over, and over again in her head; her twin-braided hair soaked in dirty water, her body shaking, and every single one of the more recent stitches reopening and bleeding out.

Four people stood in front of her: two twins, both of them boys, one girl, and the one that pained her the most— Yuuta.

He was the one holding the bucket that was dropped over her head. She smelled of dirty school bathroom water, but all she could think about was: Why? What happened?

One of the twins snickered. “Look at her, she's crying!” Rei-Rei didn't realize the tears were flooding out until they were pointed out.

The other twin snickered with their brother. “What else is new? She's the school crybaby.”

The girl took out a pair of scissors, smiling widely — far too widely — at Rei-Rei's hair. She'd been growing it out for the better part of two years since elementary graduation… and she figured that now, it wouldn't be as long as it was for any longer.

Before the girl could even take a step closer, Yuuta stopped her, his hand gripping her wrist.

A ray of hope flashed in Rei-Rei's eyes. A small sliver, pleading with Yuuta before things could escalate with nothing but the eye contact they currently shared.

Yuuta's body was stiff, rigid. His grip tightened around the girl's wrist, making her squeal. “Y-Yuuta-!! Your hand-!”

“Sorry,” Yuuta said with a newfound lack of emotion Rei-Rei had realized, all too late, fit him far too well.

“But we shouldn't cut her hair.”

“Huh??” One twin’s jaw went slightly slack.

The other twin was outright outraged. “What the hell?? But it'd be so funny!!”

“And?” Yuuta shoved the bucket into the younger twin's chest, then locked eyes with Rei-Rei after pulling her hair up.

“She's already so…” his nose crinkled, his teeth bared in disgust. “Y'know what I mean?”

A swift push later, Rei-Rei was back on the ground, drenched in dirty water, her braids flimsy and undone; all her recent stitches reopened.

When she looked up, she hoped — if only for a moment — that she'd see a hint of regret from Yuuta. Any regret, any guilt; anything that could make her forgive him.

But he already turned his back on her, laughing with the rest of his new ‘friends’, before they all ran off to do God knows what.

Weakly, she sat up, looking down at herself. She knew nothing about those kids, not even their names, but she knew one thing. Because of them, her hopes were crushed.

Yuuta's changed. She missed him and who he used to be. But she lost him, too.

⊱───────────────⊰

Yuuta lost her. He lost Rei-Rei, and he was already beginning to slowly forget the details of her face. The color of her eyes.

Her smile.

His grip on the stuffed rabbit tightened unknowingly, his jaw clenched.

Most of everyone in Ramshackle were off on their own devices. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't important to him�� not as important as trying to remember for even a moment, a semblance of what he could reminisce about Rei-Rei.

The laughs they shared, the memories they made; the good, the bad. The ones that made him smile in nostalgia, and the ones that made him want to punch through a wall out of sheer regret.

He remembered the day he started noticing her going to school less and less, until she just stopped coming. And once she stopped, it didn't take Yuuta long to finally come to terms with how shitty he'd treated her.

Maybe it was a courtesy, he thought to himself, staring down at the stuffed rabbit in his hands with a dark expression on his face. she's far, far away from me now.

And that's for the bes—

“Yuuta?”

He, very uncharacteristically, yelped, throwing the stuffed rabbit to the side and whipped his head toward the source of the voice.

His eyes narrowed into slits once he processed who called out to him.

“Octavia,” Yuuta crossed his arms, arching a conspicuous brow. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothin',” Octavia had a habit of acting very cartoonishly. Almost every single thing she did, or said, reminded Yuuta of all the old cartoon reruns he and Rei-Rei would watch as children.

Octavia herself reminded him far too much of Rei-Rei. The girl she used to be to him, far more than anyone else in Ramshackle.

“It's clearly somethin',” Yuuta drawled, the two of them circling each other in his room like two cowboys preparing to duel at high noon. Ridiculous.

Octavia chortled, batting her eyelashes innocently with clasped hands. “What makes you think that?”

Yuuta found it best not to go along with whatever antics she had planned by continuing that subject. Instead, he switched it by asking, “shouldn't you be with Jamil?”

Damn it. Even the sound of Jamil's name on his tongue irritated Yuuta, almost as much as the thought of Octavia spending time with the guy who was damn near close to killing them during the winter break.

Octavia sighed solemnly, the back of her hand melodramatically placed on her forehead. “He is, apparently, too busy with another party in Scarabia…”

“And that stopped you?”

“Nope!”

This girl, I swear. “And…?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to… y'know..” he did not seem to, in fact, know. When Octavia realized that, she made a bunch of wild and frustratingly vague gestures with her hands.

Frustrated, Yuuta just said what she wanted to convey. “You want me to come with you?”

“Exactly!” Octavia beamed at him. For some reason, it hit Yuuta, hard.

With a gentle sigh, Yuuta conceded. He didn't say much, or anything at all. He gave her a nod, taking her hand to let her have a quick twirl right before Octavia laughed like an animated madwoman and dragged him to Scarabia at the speed of light.

Octavia wasn't stupid, however. Bubbly, cartoonish, with a heart full of snark? Sure, but not stupid.

Yuuta had the habit of staring at her for extended consecutive periods of time. As if he were remembering a time where things were simpler, and the cruel realities of the world — even in a world like Twisted Wonderland — weren't plaguing them in their thoughts.

Oh, if only he knew. Octavia didn't know if he knew. Maybe he forgot.

But she certainly didn't.

⊱────────────────────⊰

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

“Rei-Rei” — @jasdiary

Octavia Fortunato — @/jasdiary

Sumeragi Yuuta — Me 😈

|| @starry-night-rose || @authoruio || @nem0-nee || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15 || @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm || @twsted-princess || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz || @valse-a-mille-temps || @shrimpnetwrk ||

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

Ch. 38: Drip

The tour has been going great so far. The two shows in New York were full of energy which set off a great start to the US leg of the tour. Before they knew it they had already played 5 shows in 4 cities across the eastern part of the country. That also means Hyeri has also received 4 packages of gifts and treats so far and she can’t wait for the next one.

The guy’s next stop is Chicago. Another sold out show and a few events and gatherings are on their schedule for their time here. They gave themselves an extra day of freedom in the city for a bit of rest and recovery as this is the midpoint of their US travels.

Yoongi is excited. He never stopped being excited since day 1. He and Hyeri have spoken everyday as much as possible. Hyeri’s drama will be premiering the following week so she’s been on the promo circuit, but she answers every one of Yoongi’s messages as soon as she can get to it.

The day before their show in Chicago, the guys are at a reception held at a gallery for an exhibit that was inspired by them and their music. They meet the artist and everyone with the gallery who is responsible for making this happen. There’s a brief ceremony where the artist, curators, and gallery owner and executives will say a few words and officially open the exhibit for its 3 month tenure at that location. At the same time, the grand opening is being live streamed across all of the gallery’s social media accounts. It feels intimate, but there are a lot of eyes watching.

The guys feel honored and sit in the front row of seats before a small podium on a low stage with smiles across their 7 faces. Everyone who speaks at the podium gives them high praise for all they’ve done musically and otherwise. At the end, everyone who spoke returns to the stage for a toast. The guys are invited to join them in front of the small crowd of people and cameras as the men of honor.

The guys weren’t expecting to be called up to the stage, but they go along in stride, albeit a little nervous. Yoongi smiles along standing right in the middle between Hobi and Taehyung. Out of the corner of his eye he notices one of their managers quickly step away as if something urgent came up. He continues smiling not wanting to look as if something were wrong. For all he knows it could be nothing.

For now, nothing will have to wait because Yoongi finds himself suddenly being handed a glass of champagne. A toast isn’t complete without a drink. A drink only the 7 of them and management knows could be a problem. Unfortunately the problem wasn’t noticed until too late. The manager Yoongi saw leave has returned with a look of defeat in his eyes. The manager mouths a silent apology from across the room letting Yoongi know his urgent retreat was to try and save Yoongi from the surprise beverage, but unfortunately he was too late.

The spontaneous toast leaves Yoongi standing paralyzed as more praises are piled on to the group. The longer they draw this out the harder it is for him to maintain his fake smile and keep his hands from shaking.

It’s just a small glass of champagne. It’s practically water.

Taehyung and Hobi notice Yoongi’s struggle and are unsure themselves of what to do. This is live and even the slightest change in facial expressions could send the rumor mill spiraling out of control. The other guys haven’t quite turned to notice Yoongi’s struggle, though they’re aware that this champagne no doubt has him in a dilemma.

There could be millions of people watching right now.

This tour has been perfect so far. All rumors of Yoongi being on drugs or an alcoholic are a thing of the past. Any mention of Chelsea or any other person he encountered during that last tour has practically disappeared. It’s been great. He can’t do anything that could possibly bring that wave of torment back. Not now. Not in front of millions.

The quicker you do it the quicker it will be over with.

“…we’re honored to have you join us today. Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

Everyone raises their glasses and without another thought Yoongi quickly puts his to his mouth and takes a drink. In that brief moment he felt as if he had no control of himself. He felt like a spectator of his life and couldn’t do anything about it. Yet the moment the sparkly beverage hit the back of his throat his consciousness was sucked back into his body and he quickly pulled the glass from his lips. The sound of applause gradually breaks through his momentary deafness and he remembers where he is. Through a mix of muscle memory and stress induced autopilot he instinctively follows Namjoon’s lead. Namjoon is clapping so Yoongi claps. Namjoon is smiling so Yoongi smiles. Namjoon bows and walks off to the side where managers are waiting, Yoongi follows on his heels. Namjoon finishes his glass of champagne, and Yoongi nearly tosses his to their manager as if it were a scalding hot ball of metal.

“Hyung,” Jimin says trying to get Yoongi to slow down.

“Car,” Yoongi mumbles heading towards the exit.

Jimin quickly follows him giving the rest of the guys a nod to ask they give the two of them a moment. Jimin can hardly keep up with Yoongi, and a couple of managers and security are hardly able to keep up with both of them. Yoongi throws the door of the SUV open and crawls to the back with Jimin closing the door behind them and sitting next to him.

“Hyung,” Jimin says again.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Yoongi says with his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-“ he sucks in a sharp breath. “I messed up.”

“It’s ok,” Jimin assures wrapping his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders. “You didn’t mess up, you did the best you could in the situation and I think you did a really good job.”

Yoongi slowly lifts his head out of his hands and the moment his eyes meet Jimin’s he begins tearing up. Something about Jimin’s gentle nature, caring tone, and soft touch never fails to break Yoongi down.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi cries again.

“Don’t be,” Jimin smiles. “I’m proud of you, hyung.”

Yoongi wants to cry more but he notices the rest of the guys exiting the building. He takes a deep breath, wipes his tears, and looks at Jimin with a nod of gratitude. Jimin chuckles at Yoongi’s habit of transforming into his hardened self when he’s trying to avoid the embarrassment of showing his emotions. The guys have seen him emotional many times, yet like a game of roulette, it’s a gamble whether he’ll let it ride out or harden his shell back up at some point.

Namjoon and Jin both enter the SUV while the others load up into a second one waiting behind. No one is sure what to say at the moment. Jin and Namjoon can tell Yoongi was just crying but they’re not sure they should bring anything up right now.

“Are you ok?” Namjoon asks softly. He doesn’t want to put Yoongi on the spot or try to get him to talk if he doesn’t want to, but he at least needs to know that he’s ok.

“Yeah,” Yoongi replies quietly. Namjoon isn’t convinced but he nods and leaves the ride to continue on in silence.

The guys all planned to go out for dinner together so they have about 3 hours to spare after returning to their hotel. An entire 3 hours for Yoongi the pace the floor in panic, fight nausea, cry into a pillow, then finally send Hyeri a distress signal asking her to call if she’s free.

Hyeri is home getting a bit of rest before going out for another day of interviews promoting her new show. She’s lounging across the couch sucked into a video on her phone when Yoongi’s message comes through. Her heart immediately begins racing fearing the worst possible scenarios. She calls him right away and can’t stop herself from spitting out a slew of panicked questions the moment he picks up.

“Is everything ok? What happened? Are you ok?” She asks rapidly.

“I’m so sorry,” he cries through the phone. “I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know what to do so I just had a sip but I feel fucking terrible because I let you down again.”

“What?” She asks trying to make sure she heard correctly. “Slow down, Yoongi. What happened?”

“They had champagne and they did a toast and I didn’t know what to do. There were so many cameras, Hyeri. I didn’t want people to talk. Not again and definitely not now. Hyeri I had a sip so no one would think anything was out of the ordinary but I hated it. I fucked up so bad,” he exasperates.

“Yoongi, sweetie, take a breath.” While this isn’t exactly the worst she thought would be happening, she still feels a small bit of disappointment. He seems very remorseful now, but what happens if he falls to the temptation again? The very thing she feared before he left home weeks ago.

“I’m so sorry.” He takes a deep breath, then another. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry for letting you down. It was only a little-“

“Yoongi,” she quietly interrupts. “Switch to video.”

“What?” He asks confused but doing as told anyway.

The video connects and Hyeri can see he’s been crying. The panic and distress on his face is clear to her and it only breaks her heart.

“I’m right here, love,” she says compassionately. Her only goal right now is to ease him and she knows he usually feels better when he can see her.

“I-I…” he stutters then takes a deep breath. Seeing her glow through the phone screen is exactly what he needed. Not just seeing her, but seeing her looking totally fine. She’s clearly concerned about him and seeing that on her face rather than the anger or sadness he was expecting to see from her makes his chest feel lighter. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, Yoongi. I just want make sure you’re ok.”

Yoongi nods while still focused on her. While it’s nearly night time in Chicago, the brightness of the Seoul morning is like the sunshine after a storm. He wipes his tears and takes one more deep breath. His heart is finally slowing a bit and the fog of panic is starting to dissipate.

“You’re doing great,” Hyeri smiles. “I’m proud of you and I really appreciate you being honest with me.”

Just like Jimin’s words in the car, Hyeri’s words give him an added layer of assurance that he definitely needed. Hearing the people he loves say that they’re proud of him at a time he thought he truly fucked up is such a refreshing feeling.

“You and Jimin,” he says cracking a small smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m sure you’d be fine,” she jokes making him feel even more lighter.

“Not at all. I have the best support, I just feel so stupid for not talking to you the last time. I almost lost you all.”

“We almost lost you,” she stresses. “All I want is for you to be honest with me, and I’m glad you did that.”

“I always will.” He pauses hearing the voices in the hall. The guys are gathering for dinner and Yoongi realizes he’s likely the last one to join them. “I wish I could talk more but we’re going out for dinner.”

“It’s fine, I have to leave soon too,” she says. “I’ll try to text you before it gets too late over there.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They end the call and Yoongi rushes out to join the others feeling much more happier than he did 3 hours ago. The shift in mood makes the rest of the guys feel better as well. They weren’t sure what state Yoongi would be in, but it seems he’s back to his normal self.

Hyeri gets herself ready to leave with a mix of emotions swirling through her head. She’s glad Yoongi was honest about having a drink. She’s glad the call ended with smiles and not tears. But she’s so afraid of that champagne turning into wine, then beer, then whiskey, and whatever else.

When her manager picks her up she can’t help but search for video from the gallery while sitting in the backseat. He was in such a panic that she can’t help but think he inhaled the entire glass or something. However, she watches the video and sighs in disbelief. For Yoongi that moment lasted two lifetimes. For Hyeri, and everyone else on the outside, the moment was only a split second. Hyeri replayed the video 3 times just to make sure she was seeing correctly. It’s hardly noticeable that Yoongi even swallowed any of the drink, and some comments from fans are joking that Yoongi must not have liked the champagne because he didn’t take a drink. Hyeri shakes her head and smiles. This is much better than any scene she created in her head. She can understand why he felt pressured in that moment, but to anyone else it’s not even noticeable that he was having an issue. For the first time in what feels like ages, Hyeri feels like she can trust him a little more.

[Hyeri]: My Yoongi I just watched the video.

[Hyeri]: You have nothing to worry about. You did very well and I’m so proud of you! I love you 😘

Yoongi sees her message while he and the guys are discussing what to order at the pizza place they decided on. The 7 of them are deep in discussion on culinary preferences when Yoongi goes silent only staring at his phone with a goofy smile. He taps a quick response and looks up to notice 6 pairs of eyes focused on him.

“What?” Yoongi asks feeling overcome with embarrassment.

“You look so cute,” Hobi teases.

“Can we order now?”

“Like a cute grandpa,” Jimin giggles.

“Are we getting 2 or 3 pizzas?” Yoongi asks still trying to change the subject.

“If you were paying attention you would know,” Namjoon smiles. “I’m glad you’re ok though.”

Everyone nods in agreement. Namjoon doesn’t have to specify what he means, and for the sake of keeping the mood light as it just was, he certainly didn’t want to either. However as the leader he is, he felt it still needed to be mentioned as a way to tell Yoongi that they’re all there for him and no one is upset with him. At the same time, Yoongi’s nod and smile in response is what they all need to confirm that all is well and they don’t need to worry. It’s a silent conversation that can only be held telepathically between 7 people who have spent nearly half their lives together.

After that brief moment everyone returns to poking fun at each other and discussing what they plan to do with their free time after tomorrow’s show. Aside from his usual routine of buying everything he sees for Hyeri, Yoongi is also wanting to use that time to plan that two week vacation that he was very serious about taking her on. Somehow he also got talked into joining Taehyung and Jungkook on a quest to find a burger restaurant that Taehyung learned about that’s supposed to be the best among locals.

The night goes on with all smiles and good vibes. Yoongi has missed the time spent trying local foods and enjoying the company of his brothers. He can’t even remember any of the meals they had together the previous tour because he was so far from reality all of the time. Now he feels like he’s taken a breath of fresh clean air after breathing smoke for so long. He’s present and alert and so very happy.

[wickjump]

What about if one of them does hit him, not on purpose of course, either they're gesturing and don't see him or they stumble and catch him trying to get their balance. Although some part of him is still sad, Cross expected this eventually. What he doesn't expect is the way they immediately bundle him up in their arms, chanting apologies desperately and softly rubbing wherever they struck and offering little kisses maybe.

Basically that thing where you step on your pets paw by accident and end up apologizing for days and almost crying

SCREAMING CRYING IVE BEEN STARING AT THE WALL THINKINF OF THIS FOR LIKE A SOLID 10 MINUTES GOD. I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND THEY HATE IT AND FEEL SO GUILTY BECAUSE CROSS HAS BEEN MORE RIGID AND OBEDIENT THAN BEFORE AND THEH CANT HELP BUT FEEL LIKE KTS ALL THEJR FAULT AND AND AUGH

!!!!! cries!!!!!! cross is scared for a few days after but over time he starts to believe that it was an accident (but he believed that with him, too). he doesn’t know how to process that. but after he does i feel like he’d be extra kind to the person who hit him to make them feel better. in both an ‘i genuinely care about you outside of this whole being conditioned’ sort of thing and ‘dogs comfort their owners, right?’ sort of thing. but surprisingly, cross finds it less of an obligation and more of genuine care. one not coated in a layer of hazy obedience, or stockholm or any of that.

the abuser in this scenario could be anyone tbh. xgaster, nightmare, some oc or a character who doesn’t matter in canon. anyone you please (except the star sanses ill go insane if they’re villanized)

god i love whump. youuuu. you get it. these asks mean the literal world to me thank u

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 1 : The Beginning

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary. Note: This fic is relatively lengthy. If there is sufficient readership, it may be updated continuously. The content is purely the author's imagination and is not related to the actors. There is no intention to disrespect or cause harm to the actors in any way. Please use discretion when reading.* Talk: This is my first attempt at writing a fic, and English is not my native language. If there are any mistakes, I apologize in advance. Feel free to comment and provide feedback.

November, 2022

Bad Day!!!!

 “I’m trying to find a gallery to host an art exhibition for a graduate with my own master’s degree, but I still can’t find it.  Even though this exhibition will be held at the beginning of next month!”

"Damn it! Doing things by oneself is really tiring," Sansa, a twenty-six-year-old young female graduate student, murmured about the situation she was in.

London, a beautiful city, is a dream place for many people, and Sansa is another resident of this city, her hometown. In fact, the young woman had only been back in London for two years, having studied in America at the age of seventeen before returning to pursue a master's degree in England again. After being away for so long!

At present, Sansa is about to graduate with a master's degree within the next month. However, before she could finish, She must organize an art exhibition for her graduation, and it's been almost a month now!

She hasn't been able to find a gallery to showcase her work yet, probably because this is the art festival season held all over London throughout the month. This makes it very difficult for Sansa to find good galleries, as everyone needs a place to display their work!

Sansa thought… this would be the end for her!

The girl picked up her favorite headphones and put them on, selecting her personal playlist. Her right arm held a drawing board, and her left arm carried a bag filled with books that she had just stopped by to buy.

Adding to her own chaos, she picked up her favorite book, which she hadn't finished reading yet, while on a trip to her favorite restaurant in Soho, central London. She is living in her own world, cutting off the chaos from her surroundings—a world full of music, literature, and pleasure that she easily finds from the letters in front.

Sansa stopped in front of Mr. Louis' shop, located on the corner of Soho Street. She always has a table that she likes to sit at—a wall-mounted table, the only one of its kind. Even though there is another table nearby, not too far apart, her table is the most private of all the tables in the restaurant. Miss Louise always prepared this table for she when she needed it.

'He is the kindest,' she admired the shop owner.

The young woman walked towards her usual table, ready to read books and listen to music. She doesn't usually pay much attention to her surroundings, tending to only care about things that she wants to care about. Everything else is just the air or atmosphere around her.

She placed a drawing board next to the wall, always choosing to sit in the chair on the left. Checking, putting away her headphones, and hanging her bag next to the chair, she picked up the book she had left reading, placing it on the table to wait for further reading.

Sansa noticed that at the table next to her, there was a group of people sitting, but she didn't care much about them. She even got annoyed because she felt a little uncomfortable not being able to sit in private in this area alone.

Before Mr. Louis walked in to welcome her,

"Hello, Sansa," he smiled at the girl as always.

"Hello, Miss Louis."

"How are you today?"

Ah, the expression on her face probably says it all.

"Pretty bad. Many things are not in my favor today," she replied with a sad expression.

"Oh, is there anything in this store that will help you feel better? Do you want it as usual?"

She smiled back at the man around her father’s age who owned the shop.

"Then I’d like a cheeseburger as usual. This time, I’d like something juicy, and I’d like a chocolate milkshake with cheese," she said, winking at him like a close friend.

Sansa really likes the cheeseburgers here. They're so delicious you’ll be begging for you life!

"Sure. I’ll inform the chef to prepare a cheeseburger. The juiciest and most special for you. Wait twenty to thirty minutes, and in a moment, we’ll bring you a milkshake."

"Thank you,"

she thought, even though today was a bad day! At least, she got to eat something delicious to comfort herself!

After finishing ordering food, Sansa picked up the book and continued reading. She likes to read books very much. It’s like it’s her thirty-third organ. The more she reads, the more she enjoys the story. Books often make her feel like she’s immersed in the writing.

"Hello,"

Sansa looked up slightly at the owner of the voice.

"Hello," she replied and continued reading!

"I’m Tom."

The young man introduced himself. Sansa looked up at him again. Tom is considered to be a good-looking man, and his demeanor seems like that of a good-natured person.

She smiled at him but didn’t reply. Pretty bad manners, right? But yes! Sansa doesn’t want to continue talking to Tom. She just wanted to read a book quietly, only by herself!

“What is your name?”

Damn it! She thought, these men! You really are such a pushover. Sigh!… She probably have to respond politely.

“Sansa.”

“I saw you walking with a drawing board. Are you an artist, Sansa?”

“I’m an art major.”

Before she lowered her head and continued reading her book. ‘Shit,’ She thought to herself. She’s not good at talking. It was always difficult for her.

“Oh…wow, that’s really great.” Tom didn’t seem to relent.

“I really want to see your work. Can I have your IG so I can follow your work?”

She thought for a moment before answering him,

“I’m sorry. I don’t use social media.”

Tom’s face looked disappointed. “Then can I have your number instead?”

What is this!? Sansa cursed in thought.

“I only have my personal number, and I still want it to be private. I can’t give it to you; I’m sorry.”

Tom’s face was now extremely disappointed. Before Tom got up, preparing to walk back to his table. “You are very beautiful.”

Tom turned around and spoke before walking away from her table…

Sansa didn’t feel a thing at the compliment. She just kept her head down and continued reading. Because this wasn’t the first time she had encountered a situation like this. And she really doesn’t like it!! From an event just a moment ago, this made she feel a bit uneasy after being interrupted from reading and made her not in the mood to read further.

The young woman took off her leather jacket before folding it thick, then put it on the back. Then, she took out the curling iron, shook and spread it around before leaning back in the chair and relaxing. She raised her face to the soft afternoon sunlight, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes… picking up the book and putting it down to rest her eyes from the light that shines in. And now, her mind is calmer…

On another side, four young men were drinking coffee and talking about the job they had just interviewed for today.

“How was your film interview today, Cillian?” a fellow screenwriter asked, a forty-six-year-old young actor.

“Excellent,” he replied.

While Cillian was talking with his screenwriter friend Steve, his eyes caught sight of a woman! ‘Wow, what a beautiful woman!’

he thought. She had large, bright green eyes, long eyelashes, dark, well-lined eyebrows, a curved nose that complemented her sharp jaw, full, pink lips, slender and chubby. That sharp face fits perfectly with hair that is loosely tied. And there was a small tangled strand of hair. It fell down on her left cheek, making her look so strikingly beautiful that he had to turn and look!

Cillian saw her carrying a pile of things. One hand holding a book, another person holds a large chalkboard. She also had headphones over her ears. He noticed that she wasn't looking or paying attention to anything around her, and he thought that she should definitely come sit at the empty table next to his! Personally, he didn’t want anyone to sit at that table because it will give him and his friends more privacy.

But it’s okay!! It would be good if she came and sat. ‘Because she is quite beautiful.’ That made him feel somewhat satisfied.

The older male actor occasionally glanced at the unknown woman but didn’t pay much attention to her until a man walked up to her.

‘Is he going to be her boyfriend?’ Cillian thought.

His and hers’ tables were not too far apart, allowing him to hear their conversation. And from the conversation, Cillian then knew… that the young man just came to flirt with her. He was quite surprised at the young woman’s expression. Plus, she acted clearly bored. She could deny that young man almost every sentence. If he were that man, he would have given up.

Cillian was surprised when she said that she doesn’t use social media. It was strange for a woman her age that most people are addicted to social media. She refused to give the man her number with the most ingenious reason, he thought, ‘Her are very clever.’

Before he returned to chatting with his tablemates. But then… ‘Fuck?!’ She took off that black leather jacket! His and his tablemates’ eyes immediately turned towards her.

Damn it! He didn’t want to look at all, but he really couldn’t help but glance at the position of the girl and him. It makes the two of them look like they’re sitting next to each other, probably only an arm’s length apart. Making him see her clearly! Her skin is white and smooth, contrasting with the black strapless, making it even more interesting to look at. Her figure is just as beautiful, with her face, especially when she unwrapped her hair and spread it out.

‘Damn!’ he thought, this was one of the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. Her side view was strikingly beautiful. Her nose was high and slender, sharply contrasting with her jaw. He swallowed. Can’t stop glancing at this beautiful young woman!!!

She stimulated him even more when he smelled a faint scent, soft and sweet. He had never smelled anything like this before.

It’s so mysteriously fascinating?

Cillian thought. This girl is quite interesting. Not from her face or figure, but it’s her personality that doesn’t seem to care about anything. She fell asleep in the middle of the restaurant, took the book and covered her face. It’s like there’s only her in this area. She didn’t even turn to look or pay attention to their table, which really made him feel at ease.

He’s starting to like her!!

[canofpeaches]

Putting this out in honor of fall. This takes place earlier in the relationship and features @luckyricochet's OC.

Rosie found himself in the mess hall in the midafternoon. As he walked through the empty room, he drummed his fingers across the tables. He paused when he heard a series of loud slaps coming from the kitchen. Rosie was taken aback; it was too early for any of the cooks to be working on dinner. While the Brits may consider it tea time scones, this was an American base after all. Walking closer to the kitchen and seeing a flash of red hair, he was no longer surprised.

“Good afternoon Eilidh,” Rosie called out.

She did not need to look up from the dough to identify the owner of the greeting. Eilidh had spent enough time on base to recognize the different accents of soldiers, even if she could not place their origins on a map.  She smirked as she started to roll out the dough. “What can I do you for Lieutenant?”

“I am actually not quite sure. I was strolling across the base and found myself here. What are you making?”

“A batch of doughnuts for the Red Cross women. I’m about to fry some. If you can wait for a spell, I can give you two fresh ones.”

“One is plenty for me, especially since I’m not flying on the next mission.”

Eilidh was forming the doughnuts, punching out the centers with her thumb while she moved finished circles off to the side. “Perhaps you can give it to other members of your crew—Pappy and Milton? I am I correct in remembering they are part of the Riveters? Or perhaps you can give it to someone else.” After tending to a batch in the frier, she turned to stare Rosie down. Certainly, Eilidh was not his commanding officer, but the intensity of her gaze made it seem as if he was court-martialed.

“I think the boys would appreciate a midday treat. I’ll take three if you are able to spare ‘em.”

“I will give you four.” Turning her attention back to the oil, she carefully fished out the first batch. She proceeded to turn them out on to a baking sheet filled with cinnamon and sugar. Shaking them around to ensure an even coating, she set them on a clean baking sheet. Before long, she gave the requisite four to Rosie.

“Thank you Eilidh, but I cannot possibly let you part with all of these. You’re being too generous for just a second lieutenant, I’m not like Major Egan or Major Cleven.”

“Well, you certainly are not. If you do not want all four,” she swiftly grabbed two from his hands, “you will get two.”

Stunned by the abrupt change, Rosie was left feeling embarred he had said the wrong thing. “I apologize for refusing your hospitality. Thanks again for your generosity. I’ll be on my way.” He started toward the kitchen doors.

“Cinnamon sugar is Millie’s favorite flavor.” He hears Eilidh say forcefully under her breath. He figured he should heed her intent, lest he may never receive baked goods again.

He left the mess hall and made his way towards battalion headquarters. His pace quickened as he felt the fried dough starting to cool in his hand, but he could not understand why he was rushing to meet Millie. Was it because he was instructed to see her? Because he did not want to let her down with cooled doughnuts? Because he genuinely wanted to see her? Thankfully reached her office adjacent to Major Kidd’s, more of a glorified closet with how snug her desk was shoved in, before he had too much more time to dwell on his motivation. Softly knocking on the open door with his free hand, he stood in the doorway. Seconds pass. Millie, engrossed in typing, did not look up. Rosie awkwardly shifted his weight between his feet. He was hyper aware of how oily his hand was. He cleared his throat, knocked again, and his voice cracked as he said, “Captain.”

Finally catching her attention, Millie looked up. A simile appearing on her face when she saw Rosie.  “What can I do you for Lieutenant? Major Kidd will be back shortly. He is in a meeting with Colonel Harding.”

Clearing his throat again, Rosie said, “I’m actually here for you. I, uh, brought this for you. Courtesy of Eilidh.” He offered her a doughnut.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Taking a bite into the doughnut, she felt the granular sugar remain on her face. Instinctively, Rosie reached across the desk to wipe away the residue. His thumb lightly brushed briefly on her top lip. As he leaned across her desk, looking down at her, his frame took up the rest of the tiny room. It made Rosie the only the thing Millie could see.

“Ahem, excuse me.” As quickly as he had swooped in, he straightened up. His eyes finding anywhere in the room besides hers. “I’ll leave this here for Major Kidd. Courtesy of Eilidh.” Rosie promptly walked out, and through the window Millie could see him pause outside the office. It looked as if he was debating with himself; he brough his right hand to his chin before ultimately shaking his head and continuing on.

A/N:

Thank you so much Megan for letting me play around with Eilidh ❤️ I'm sure that this won't be the last time we see her in LTF 😉

[snakxreader]

Uh, hey, hi, hello!

Before you go about your day, Bugsnax fandom, I’d like to ask a few questions!

Do YOU like self-inserting yourself into Elizabert Megafig’s expedition, prism of personality? Do you wish they were real and you could talk to them? So Filbo could give you a hug? So Wambus and Triffany could adopt you? So that you can kiss Floofty Fizzlebean on the lips?

(That one’s rhetorical. I’ve seen you guy’s tags on Floofty posts, y’all are insane/nm/pos)

Cause if so…boy, is this the account for you!

You can call me Mod Buddy, and I’m the single owner and runner of this account! I’ve made this blog for all the Grumpus kissers who are just a tad too afraid or unable to make their own content, as a bit of a self-shipper myself.

I do platonic and romantic scenarios, with all characters! Filbo, Floofty, Gramble, Alegander (because let’s be honest, he is kinda…), hell even Shelda, Clumby or Cromdo! I’ll do them all from hand-holding to parental affection! I do OCs, Self-Inserts or just generic -x readers! Headcannons or mini-fanfics, I don’t mind! Whatever makes you guys happier!

However, I do have some regulations and stuff I won’t do, as much as it might disappoint some.

NO NSFW. This one is kinda obvious, but I’m. Not doing those things? This is an account for all, including minors, and I don’t want that stuff out there. If that bothers you, hey man, A03 is right there.

NO GORE. This might disappoint some but uh. I blatantly refuse to do any of that. Don’t care if this is a horror media, I don’t feel comfortable putting these characters through that.

NO EXTREME ANGST. I’m fine with like breakup prompts, or hurt no comfort, but NO killing off characters, no tortue, and ESPECIALLY no harming them like. Physically.

OTHER THINGS: I’m not doing any sort of ‘deres’, ESPECIALLY YANDERE, they would not act like that idc.

I think these are pretty reasonable though, and from what I’ve seen, you guys are super normal.

Aside from that, I may be a little slow on requests with school and other activities, so my apologies if I’m late with anything and you’re free to be upset!! This is almost my first time doing this! I know there was an account similar to this before but it got deleted, I think? Anyways, that should be about everything I think?

I’m very grateful for the small portion that looks intrigued in this, and I look forward to writing for y’all! Til then, bye bye!! ^^

-Buddy :0D

[justp34chy]

im very hyperfixated w my own oc help me

Briar lore below ;p

So this is the oc me and a friend ship w hers so I might need to explain hers as well

Briar Sawyer is the head of the technology dept. at Myers way WAY b4 this back in high-school is where he met Ajax Morningstar, they bonded in their 2nd year of high-school through the photography club Ajax was in and Briar volunteered to model for. They lost contact when Briar went off to RMU for a medical degree, Ajax went to a bartending trade school and inherited his fathers brewing company (my friend decided that Ajax was the owner of Victor's fav bar and was the barkeep most of the time) Briar was enjoying his time at college but in his second year he got into a terrible accident causing him to need a prosthetic for both his left arm and leg (smth smth bomb smth smth explosion.) He decided to switch his majors after to engineering after that bc he gained a phobia of corpses and he felt "inspired by Myers," graduating in 2067 and going off to Myers immediately, Ajax also got the bar around this time.

Briar slowly climbed up the ranks in Myers over the 10 years b4 Vincent and Victor graduated. Since he had experience in the medical field, created his own "digital assistant" from scratch and was "very loyal to the company" Myers decided to let him in on the cyborg stuff and Briar became the main surgeon for actually making the cyborgs out of force. Ofc Briar absolutely hates his job and after rekindling his friendship w Ajax he goes to the bar often just to ramble about his job (and to see a particular bartender). After seeing victor there once Briar and Ajax start grown man gossiping about what vic and Vince were up too bc Ajax was working when they had their their RMU date and Briar worked with the two. Because of the gossiping Briar personally handcrafted Victor's prosthetics after hearing what happened to him.

Ofc the time comes where the whole car accident happens and Briar couldn't physically "operate" on on him, even though Vincent might not be that close to Briar, only acquaintances. After watching Victor and Vincent's supposed relationship grow from a distance over the years all he could think about was how Victor would react. Since Vincent was wide awake he apologized for what would happen and told him that he would tell victor before handing the operation job to another employee (possibly Winston) and leaving for the bar to speak to Ajax. Crying and pouring his heart out at the bar. Briar was a rather tall and intimidating man with all of the burn scaring from the explosion, he showed less emotion then Vincent does so it's very odd to find him weeping. Poor Victor just so happened to be at the bar that day to witness Briars breakdown, he had an off day and decided to visit his favorite bar. Victor had worked closely with Briar on multiple occasions due too how much the robotic materials and supplies the company needed cost and he hadn't seen not even a speck of emotion come out of him.

Briar couldn't bear to look at Victor because he knew what was happening to Vincent, he was too choked up at the time to tell him only able to choke out three words "Vincent, danger, basement" very Cryptic ik. Victor didn't believe him at the time as they weren't to close and he thought "why would Myers do that to the lawyer that just saved them?" But Briars words stuck with him and the state that his coworker was in for that matter. Around a week later, Briar hasn't shown up to work and Vincent was still no where to be seen, not even in hospice.

Briar showed up at the door of Vincent and Victor's mansion, learning that they lived together from Ajax's gossiping. Victor was hesitant to let him in but considering Briars absence and everything else, he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him in to talk. Briar ended up spilling everything to victor, Vincent's disappearance, his involvement in the cyborg incident and everything that was happening in Myers.

Victor did *not* take it well and was very angry at Briar, though he was glad that Briar stepped out instead of operating on Vincent Briar had told him that the job was given to another employee instead of dropped because "you know how Myers is." he told Victor that he regrets everything he did for the company, telling him everything from his accident in college to gossiping with the bartender about him and Vincent. Victor wanted to do something to help Vincent but Briar tells him that if the process was interrupted now Vincent would certainly become a mindless cyborg or worse he could die without the possibility of being saved due to his current condition and that it would be better to wait for the process to be finished. Briar promises Victor that he would help with Vincent's recovery post process even though Vincent would certainly hate him.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Whiskey’s fic masterlist

Masterlist of the Elliot's universe. If you’re new to this world, welcome! Here are the main characters:

Elijah: The GM and owner of Elliot's, a restaurant in Manhattan. My stories range in timeline, but at his youngest in these stories he's 35, at the oldest he's 41. His description is in this post. Elijah is straight (he and Greyson argue like a married couple but aren't together lol) Visual of Elijah by the v talented ghostlychill here!

Greyson: The Executive Chef at Elliot's. He ranges in age from 26-32. Description of Greyson here! Greyson is pansexual (again, he and Elijah won't be getting together in my stories).

Matt: Greyson's sous chef. He is dating Mark, in the later stories. He ranges in age from 20-26. He is bisexual.

Mark: Elijah's front of house manager, dating Matt in the later stories. He ranges in age from 22-28. He is gay.

Mark and Matt descriptions here.

Requests are open! If you have something you'd like to see in this universe, please feel free to send it (I can't guarantee it will get written BUT I will definitely try to fill what I can :))

PSA: I do write:

Light Mess

Coughing/pneumonia

Contagion 

Fevers, passing out, rashes...anything in the ‘cold/flu’ vicinity

PSA: I do not write:

Emeto 

Romance/sexual plots featuring Elijah and Greyson as a couple

Anything co/vid related

Fanfic or anyone else’s OCs

RP of any kind, including with my characters (sorry)

Heavy mess

Elliot's Cast - Full fics. Now in chronological order!

Long Day, Late Night - M, cold (Greyson)

Open Secret - M, cold (Elijah)

Home for Christmas - M, cold (mostly Greyson, but Elijah a little too)

Go Home - M, cold (Greyson)

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4 - M, cold (Elijah only in pt 1 and 2, both in pt 3 and 4)

Weak/Weary - M, cold (Greyson)

Who Cares for You - M, cold (Elijah. There’s also a couple sneezes from Greyson that are fake/induced by pepper)

Downfall pt 1, pt 2 M, cold (Elijah, matt, and mark pt 1, Greyson pt 2)

Heart. Sick. - M, cold (Greyson)

Critical - M, cold (Elijah)

Cry Wolf - M, cold (Greyson)

Patient Zero - M, cold (Elijah and Greyson)

City Slicker - M, allergies (Elijah)

Three - M, cold (some Greyson, plus Matt. M/M pairing)

Show & Tell - M, cold (Matt)

Safe - M, cold (Mark centric, but Greyson and Matt also feature here)

Instant Karma - M, cold (Greyson)

Thanks - M, cold (everyone, but Elijah focused)

See Me, I See You - M, cold (Greyson and Elijah)

FOH/BOH pt 1 - M, cold (Elijah pt 1)

Hard to Shake - M, cold (Greyson)

Then & Now - M, cold (Greyson)

Chatterbox - M, cold (Greyson - this is a short one)

Noticing - M, cold (Greyson)

(note: there may be discrepancies in this timeline. I am not perfect, this is snz fiction not a fully mapped novel so if something doesn't make sense timeline-wise, my apologies haha.)

Elliot's Cast - Drabbles (no particular order)

Fever - Elijah, cold

Outside - Greyson, cold

Nyquil - Elijah, cold

Summer - Elijah & Greyson, colds

Angry - Greyson, cold

Gingerbread - Greyson, Matt, colds

Bed - Elijah, cold

More about the guys under the tag #asks answered. As always, thanks so much for reading!

[eddiesgorlie]

He’s so Lana Part One

Austin Butler x Female!OC (Presley Lane)

Summary: Presley, a record store owner meets Austin one day when he comes in the shop.

Warnings: None! Just fluffy:)

Word count: 1,014

Let me know if you’d want a part 2!

I had been sitting behind the counter of my record store “Lucy In The Sky With Records” when a tall man with jet black hair walked through the door. He looked a little lost as he looked around and quickly approached the counter. “Hey there, do you have any Elvis records?” He asked. “Presley or Costello?” I asked. “Sorry. Presley.” He smiled. “Follow me.” I smiled as I walked out from behind the counter and started towards the Elvis section.

I stopped and turned to look at him. “Have you ever listened to Lana Del Rey?” I asked. “Oh. No I haven’t.” He said. “Well then I’ll just have to hook you up with some Lana. You remind me a lot of a Lana record.” I said, tilting my head as I spoke. “Thank you?” He said, confused. “It’s a compliment, I promise.” I smiled. “Well then, thank you very much.” He said.

“All of your Elvis is going to be right here-” I said before I was cut off. “Daisy!” My new employee yelled from the back. “I’ll be there in a second, Jim.” I yelled back. “Sorry, as I was saying, all of the Elvis is going to be here and I try to put all of the records in alphabetical order by titles. I can guarantee that none of the records are scratched or warped, and all prices are on the sticker on the top right corner of the plastic sleeve.” I smiled. “Thank you very much for your help.” He smiled. “Of course..?” I said, waiting for his name. “Austin, Austin Butler. And may I have the pleasure of knowing yours?” He asked. I shook his hand. “I go by many names. Call me whatever you want.” I smiled as I walked away.

I cautiously watched as he dug through the records, looking at every one and putting them in a pile. Something about him just seemed so familiar. I googled his name and there everything was, he was an actor and there were rumors of him playing Elvis Presley.

Now when I looked, he had probably about 20 records stacked up and was still looking. I left the counter and walked to the R’s to grab a Lana Del Rey record and I immediately decided on “Born To Die”.

“Since it looks like you’re buying a lot, I’ll give you a discount, Mr. Butler.” I smiled. “Thank you. And you can call me Austin.” He said. “Ok, Austin.” I said.

I continued logging new arrivals into the system and pricing them until Austin came up to the counter bring what looked to be 3 stacks of 15 records each. “You bought me out of all of my Elvis.” I laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just a huge fan.” He laughed. “Oh don’t apologize sweetheart, people like you keep me in business.” I said. I started separating the records and put a stack of 10 aside. “So I’ll give these to you for free and go ahead and grab like 5 CDs and I’ll throw those in too.” I said. “I’m not sure I need any CD’s, I think I’ll just get the albums.” He said. “They’re free. At least take a look?” I said. He nodded with a smile and started looking through the CD’s in front of the counter.

“Who’s that?” He asked, looking up at the picture on the wall. “That is my mama and dad when they met at Woodstock.” I smiled. “Woodstock, how neat. How old were they?” He asked. “My mom was 15 and my dad 17. My mom had written her number down on a piece of a napkin but with all the mud it got lost and they didn’t meet again until 15 years later.” I said. “They must have been meant to be.” He said, setting 3 Elvis and Beatles CD’s on the counter. “Oh a Beatles boy.” I smiled. “Thats me.” He smiled. “My dad loves the Beatles and my mom loved Elvis. That’s actually how they picked my name.” I said. “Well now I have to know your name.” He said. “Presley Lane. It was a very close tie between my name, Eleanor Rigby, Lucy Skye and Penny Lane. Of course mom being the Elvis fan made the final decision.” I said. “Presley Lane.. has a nice ring to it.” He said. “Well, thank you.” I smiled.

“Ok, Austin, the total is going to be $350.00 even.” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the record prices I’ve seen around town today. Its crazy! I really appreciate your pricing.” He smiled as he swiped his card. “Well of course, Mr. Presley.” I smirked. His head shot up. “You looked so familiar so I had to google you. Congratulations on the role. I’ve been watching you since you were on Zoey101.” I laughed. “Thank you. I’m nervous but I have a good feeling about it.” He said.

“I wish you luck and here.” I grabbed one of my business cards and started writing my cell number on the back. “I don’t want to make the same mistake my parents made and have a lot of lost time together.” I said, sliding him the card. He grabbed it and looked at it before putting it in his pocket. “You have a great day.” He smiled as he picked up all 5 of the bags. “You as well, tell me what you think of Lana.” I waved as he pushed to door open. “Will do.” He smiled before the door shut.

It had been two days since I met Austin and he never text or called and I began losing hope until I was opening the store one day and my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number

Hey, I’ve just listened to the Lana Del Rey record and I love it but I would love to hear your ideas on it. Dinner at my place at eight?

Sorry, this is Austin btw.

Sure! I’d love that. I’m glad you enjoyed the record.

I couldn’t hold it my excitement as i jumped and shrieked like a teenage girl.

Do y’all want a part two of this story?👀

Taglist:

@Purejasmine

@violetdaze25

@maddiemunson333

@Shelbygeek

@ABloversblog