#at one point I was like 'right there' and he was like 'yeah? right here?' and it was so hot hnnnnnnbgggggggg

[nightingale-prompts]

Health Code Violation- DC x DP prompt

"Hold on there. You're not permitted beyond this point." The floating teenage boy said as he tucked his clipboard under his arm.

After a battle with another world-ending villain Superman was killed in action and after a short debate the decision to revive him using the Lazarus Pit was made. However, the league members who were carrying his body to the pit didn't expect it to be blocked off with caution tape. A teenage boy with stark white hair and wearing a hard hat and orange construction vest.

"What are you doing out here kid? And what is with the tape?" Barry asked shifting Clark's heavy ass body from crushing him.

"I'm here to take a look at the leak." He said pointing a thumb in the direction of the green pit.

"The leak?" Diana echoed in confusion.

"Yeah, your planet has a leak. A few actually. Our realm hasn't been managed well and now that the old king is gone we need to fix some things. Right now the leaks need to be sealed." He said. "Also what's with the dead guy?"

"We were bringing him to the Lazarus Pit to revive him." Barry said blankly.

The teen shook his head in astonishment almost dropping his clipboard.

"You are what?! With the what?!"

"The Lazarus pit...?" Hal laughed nervously his face in a half-quirked smile.

"You call it a Lazarus Pit? Guys this is a pool of contaminated ectoplasm. Basically sewage. This thing is full of dead people juice. All those leftover emotions and obsessions are stewing in there. You toss that body in these pool and you'll make a revenant full of anger. It doesn't even have an ecosystem to cleanse it. It's like stagnant water." The teen said waving his pen around before pausing "Wait a minute....you people have been using it? No wonder it's so polluted! What is wrong with you?! Are you trying to contaminate your planet? Do you want zombies?"

It was kind of weird to be scolded by a kid, for everyone but Bruce. He thought of a more pragmatic approach. He didn't like the pit but he acknowledged it's usefulness.

"I understand. But we do want to save our friend and the only way is to use the pit."

"That's a big ask. The pit is one thing but bringing back the dead willy nilly? ...But I guess that's my domain now.. "

The teen mumbled to himself before sighing.

"Look, I want to help. I really do. But the pit is unstable and there are many more on this planet with the same issue. We can't risk an apocalypse and the chance they get into the wrong hands. This is for the safety of your planet." The teen said as mannerly as possible as he dismissed the heros.

"Come on, please. Our friend is dead. You don't want our friend to die." Barry said pleadingly.

"Very mature of you. A bit of shame might help you...alright fine but don't badger me again." The silver-haired being said taking out a small syringe and taking a sample of his own blood.

"It's diluted compared to the pure stuff but 10x stronger than the stuff in the pool. It's safer and once he's kicking again it'll drain out of his system." He tossed the needle to Barry and returned to taking samples of the pit. "This biohazard requires an ecologist. I'll have to import some blob feeders to clean up the toxins. Then either seal this up or link it to the network. But these dumb mortals are just going to keep dumping bodies into it."

The teen mumbled to himself as he tried to find a solution.

A week later all the Lazarus pits had disappeared. The Al Ghuls were scrambling as the source of their powers dried up.

Clark was alive and feeling better than ever. No pit rage at all.

Eventually the boy returned.

"I had a talk with the ancients and they agreed to let you have one ecto pool. Only one thought and it has to be managed by me. As long as you don't try abusing it by going into it while alive or not asking permission I'll allow you to use it. Also, be mindful of my cleaning wisps, they work very hard to keep the natural flow of the ecto cycle going." The teen said holding up a green little ghost blob and petting it.

[aleskie]

YOU DON'T NEED TO LIFT A FINGER | Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When a guy just cannot get the hint, Jack makes sure to put him in his place. He's got your back. Always.

Warnings: none!! pure fluff and jack gets protective!! Full discloure, this is for realsies Fem!Reader!! Author's Note: This was supposed to come out a dayyyyys ago but Tumblr was NOT letting me post my drafts 😭😭 my poor therapist spent an hour watching me crash out about it najsjsshjjk

You were beautiful.

Of course you were.

In Jack’s eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth.

Which is why he understands why you get hit on. He really does. Hell, once upon a time, he was hitting on you. And he still hits on you, even now, years into the relationship, because you’re worth it. Because you light up rooms without even trying. Because he’s always been a sucker for the way you roll your eyes and smile at his cheesy attempts to be smooth with you.

You’re beautiful and smart and funny, and you’re so effortlessly charming—of course people would want you for themselves. He gets it. He really does. And honestly, there’s a part of him that loves it. He loves that people notice those qualities about you, that they see in you what he sees every day. It feels like validation, like the universe itself is confirming that he’s the luckiest guy alive. He basks in the knowledge that no matter how many people give you those hungry looks and shitty pick-up lines, he’s the one you're coming home with, his hand resting possessively on your hip as he gives all those people a smirk, his claim laid without him even lifting a finger.

What he doesn’t love is when people don’t take the damn hint.

And you give a lot of hints.

Take this guy right here—Dave, or Doug, or whatever his name is—He’d somehow wiggled his way into the booth you guys shared with your friends for a night out and, while he seemed harmless at first, he was now solely focused on you. And your legs that were highlighted by the body shimmer Jack helped put on you earlier tonight (his fingers still slightly shimmering to prove it—a badge of honor, in his opinion).

You’d been giving him that polite, fake smile since he joined in—the one Jack knows so well and that always makes him chuckle, the one you use when you’re being patient but are clearly not enjoying yourself—and you’ve barely paid him any attention, save for a few fake laughs and an “Oh, that sounds cool” every so often as Darren, or Dino, continues to brag about himself, not even trying to ask about you (a grave mistake, Jack thinks, since you were the most interesting person he knew).

Jack wonders if this guy even realizes you’ve been leaning against Jack this entire time, your head on his shoulder and his hand resting on your upper thigh, or if he’s chosen to ignore that in favor of trying (and failing) to shoot his shot. Better yet, does he even recognize Jack is here, drink untouched and jaw tightening as he watches Danny (or was it Dylan) lean in just a little too close?

Jack glances at you. You’re still handling it with grace, of course you are. You always do. But he knows you. He sees the subtle tension in your shoulders, the way you lean further against him to put some distance between you and Dexter, the way your fingers tighten around your glass, and he knows you’d rather not have to deal with this.

He shifts slightly and stands, leaning forward to smile at the intruder, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, Diego, right?” he says. His tone is casual, even pleasant, but there’s steel underneath it.

“It’s Dave, actua—”

Jack extends a hand, cutting through the guy’s attempt at small talk. “Right, yeah. Sorry to interrupt, but I think my girlfriend and I are gonna go dance now.”

He puts an emphasis on girlfriend, just to make sure this guy gets the point.

Jack gives you a soft look, the kind that makes your breath hitch just a little, and you immediately stand up, reaching for him. His arm wraps around you instinctively, his touch steady and familiar. You can already feel the tension in his body lessening now that he has you close, now that he’s leading you away from whatever-his-name-is and back into the safe, easy rhythm of you and him.

But before you can leave, the guy speaks again.

“Sorry, man, didn’t realize she was yours. You know how women are. With that dress and those legs, she was totally leading me on.”

Jack freezes.

For a second, the world seems to pause, almost like he couldn’t believe what was coming out of this guy’s mouth, like he didn’t want to believe anyone could be that stupid.

Slowly, he straightens, turning back toward the guy—Dave or Doug or whatever his name was—with a look so calm it’s almost serene. Too calm. And that’s how you know Jack is angry.

Not the playful kind of angry, where he pretends to pout when you steal the last fry or kiss him everywhere but his lips. Not the frustrated kind, like when he can’t find his keys for the third time that week or when he’s had a particularly bad game.

No, this is something deeper. Colder. Controlled.

His fingers graze your arm lightly, a small, grounding touch meant just for you. It’s subtle, but you know what it means. I’ve got this. You don’t need to lift a finger.

Jack tilts his head ever so slightly. “You wanna say that again?” His voice is so even it borders on soft, a quiet thing wrapped in steel.

Dave—or Dino or Darryl—seems to think Jack is inviting him to elaborate, which is perhaps the worst decision he’s made all night.

“I’m just saying, y’know,” Dave shrugs, his tone shifting to something almost conspiratorial, like he thinks Jack might actually agree with him if he just explains it better. “When women dress like that, you can’t blame a guy for—”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to shut up before I do something we both regret.”

Jack doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. The weight of his words alone is enough to send a ripple of silence through the space between them.

Dave blinks, the beginning stages of intimidation creeping onto his face. He glances at you, as if expecting backup, but you’re already leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as you watch Jack dismantle him.

There’s a small smirk on your lips. Because this? This was a sight you didn’t get to see in public too often.

Many times, people assumed your lovely boyfriend—so easygoing, so effortlessly charming—would lack the sharpness to cut someone down when needed, would stick to uhmms and ahhhs and crassness.

They mistook his laid-back nature for passivity, his warmth for softness. But you knew better. Your Jack could be quite a wonder with words when he wanted to be. He didn’t need to be loud to command attention. He didn’t need to throw a punch to land a hit.

So you hang back and let him handle this one, finding comfort in the thought of his arms around you later, his breath warm against your ear as you danced the rest of the night away.

“Listen, buddy,” Jack continues, stepping closer. His tone is light, almost conversational, but there’s no mistaking the edge beneath it. “You don’t talk to anyone like that. You definitely don’t get to talk to her like that. You hear me?”

“God, c’mon, man! No need to get all—”

“I already told you to shut up.” Jack’s scowl deepens. His words are slow, deliberate. “The fact that she was polite enough to give you the slightest bit of attention doesn’t mean she was hitting on you. Whatever you thought was going on tonight? Not an invitation.”

Dave—Dino? Derek?—opens his mouth, probably to dig himself into an even deeper hole, but stops when Jack leans in slightly, just enough to make his presence feel heavier. Like a storm cloud about to break.

“She’s kind,” Jack says, voice quieter now, deadlier. “So she tolerated you. But she doesn’t owe you a fucking thing.”

The last of Dave’s bravado starts to crumble. His shoulders inch inward, his gaze flickering around the booth, searching for an exit, for reinforcements—for anything that might save him from this moment.

Jack watches him for a second longer, then exhales sharply, like he’s already bored. “You think being desperate and cocky gets you the girl,” he says, shaking his head. “But I don’t need any of that to keep her by my side.” His fingers brush against yours, finding their place like they always do. “And we don’t need to waste any more time entertaining douchebags like you.”

Jack steps back, his hand sliding fully into yours as he finally tears his gaze from Daniel? Don?—who cares?—and looks at you instead. The shift is immediate, his features easing, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something familiar. Something yours.

“Let’s go, babe,” he says simply, his voice lighter now, more like himself.

And just like that, the moment is over.

As you stand, letting Jack guide you away from the booth, you hear Dave mutter something under his breath—something weak and defensive that doesn’t deserve acknowledgment. It’s the kind of parting shot people throw out when they know they’ve lost. Neither of you glance back.

The music swells around you, the bass thrumming beneath your feet, but Jack doesn’t lead you straight to the dance floor. Instead, he pulls you toward a quieter corner, away from the crowd, where the lights are dimmer, the world a little smaller.

He exhales, then wordlessly nestles his head in the crook of your shoulder.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp. He sighs at the touch, his arms slipping around your waist as he lets himself melt into you for just a moment. You press a soft kiss to his hair, breathing him in, grounding both of you in something steady, something real.

After a beat, he tilts his head up, a sheepish grin playing at his lips. “Did I go overboard?”

You roll your eyes fondly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You were absolutely perfect,” you murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

His grin widens, boyish and bright, and just like that, the weight of the night lifts. He tugs you closer, his arm tightening around your waist as he starts to sway you to the music. You laugh as he spins you unexpectedly, sneaking in kisses between the DJ’s transitions, his lips catching your temple, your jaw, the curve of your shoulder.

The man who bothered you is forgotten. The tension, the sharp edges of the night—gone.

All that’s left is this. You and him and the music. The warmth of his hands on you, the sound of your laughter melting together, the rest of the world fading into nothing.

[banjo15]

First of all

Canada is booing us

China is booing us

Mexico is booing us

They are our 3 biggest trade partners.

Our 3 biggest trade partners hate us. Is that good for the economy?

“Hey Max, can I buy that sandwich from you? “

“Hey fuck off I know you’re just gonna tax it again”

“What about you Catie, can I buy some wood from you?”

“Fuck you and your tariff tax”

“Can I buy stuff from you, Charlie?”

“Fuck off dude stop taxing us, I hate you capitalists”

What about intersex people? I’d argue they’re a minority. Non-binary, gender-fluid, everyone of the such. They no longer exist because of you. Trans people can’t even leave the country or get a passport.

Literally a high school student I’m 15 dude. I know I couldn’t pass an immigration test, how about you go try to pass one and just come back to me?

My philosophy about illegals is back in the day our grandparents came here peacefully. If they come here peacefully in search of a better life, who am I to deny them that? But if they’re a pedo or a rapist they deserve to get shot, regardless of place of origin, gender identity, sexuality, gender, sex, religion, race, etc.

Trump literally went to Epstein island 7 times. He was best friends with Epstein. Also, did Elon apologize for his actions? No. He made Nazi puns on the internet.

Mexico and Canada is pissed off because first of all, trump said he was gonna BUY Canada.

“Yeah I’m gonna buy your house, what’s your price?”

“Not for sale.”

“You liberal boy, I bet sleepy joe and Kamala told you not to sell it, all you do is just sit down and drink maple syrup. Give me your house.”

“No? Fuck off dude”

“I’m still gonna buy your house.”

*He went up to the next neighbor*

“Also your pool is mine now.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the pool of america”

“No, my pool. Pool of Mexico.”

And Mexico is LITERALLY sending us people to help with the LA fires.

Canada is our friend, why the hell are we trade warring with our brother?

What the fuck even is MSM? I get all my thoughts from people I agree with, and then I think about my thoughts to see if I agree with them.

Denmark said Greenland is not for sale. We are literally pissing off our allies. We are a laughing stock. China is fucking BEATING in ai. “But deep seek is censored” so are all ais. Ask google’s ai if google has ever done anything wrong. And ChatGPT is also censored a decent bit.

As I said before, if you don’t hate so much why can’t they just up and leave? They can’t get a visa.

About abortion… You do know how dangerous pregnancy is right? And I don’t consider ending a pregnancy murder, would you let a tapeworm stay in you if it would turn into a human person?

The reason why women back in the 1950s had kids is because they were lobotomized and on a shit ton of “medication.” After that, they didn’t have many rights. Women couldn’t say “no” to their husbands untill 1993. It took us a bit to give women the right to vote. They couldn’t have a credit card at one point. A driver’s liscense. Lesbians were fucked at the time, do you vote for the Indian woman or the man who and I quote…. “Grab them by the pussy.” He literally called his daughter “volomptuous” and said “if she wasn’t my daughter I’d be dating her.”

You can fact check me on that. No, seriously, fact check me. Do it. I’m begging you.

And as for many cases, abortion is necessary. I’m not gonna go praising it but… it has to exist. What if they get raped? What if it’s incest? What if the pregnant person is underage? What if the pregnancy threatens their life? Denying them abortion doesn’t seem so “pro-life to me.”

“But that’s less than 1%”

So are trans people and people similar to you have campaigned to take their rights away.

Me personally I feel like they can be a man or a woman if they want to IF they don’t hurt anybody. If I gender-swapped you I’m quite sure you would want your original gender.

My argument for/agaisnt trans children is there are Christian children. I’d argue they shouldn’t go through a life changing procedure they likely won’t be able to un-do for the rest of their lives untill they’re 18/21. If children can be trans, why can they be Christian? Why can they participate in religion they’re supposed to be devoted to untill they die?”

Even then, what about single mothers? Do you want them to suffer through it? Childbirth is a punishment from god, yes? I read the Bible. Why should we punish these women for having sex? I feel like you shouldn’t have to labor a baby just because the boy from the dinner date thought you were hot, you thought they were hot, so you fucked. Imagine if men were in a coma for 9 months after sex. And there was a chance of that happening but instead.. after a baby pops out of them. I’d argue most men would get abortions and it would be a normal thing. And if god cares so much about abortions… why does he let miscarriages happen? That’s another pro-abortion talking point. Should they have an abortion if they know damn well the baby can’t survive out of the womb? And another thing, what if they can’t financially afford to have a child? “Adoption” not all kids get adopted. I was adopted and I wouldn’t have minded getting aborted to be honest dude. I know a lot of people would, friends, family, etc. I don’t support killing out of the womb though. And even then, if you care about children so much, are you willing to make safer gun laws to stop school shootings? Are you willing to donate to homeless children in need? You’re not willing to make insulin cheaper for diabetic people (and children), you’re not willing to fund cancer research (for adults and children), what are you willing to do for children?

And we can both agree that the world is a horrible place for kids, left or right.

Another thing… why the fuck would the FBI make the protests violent? If that’s your justification for that then why didn’t the FBI make the blm protest violent? Black Lives Matter was good in concept, but people looted local businesses to make a point. I still think Black Lives Matter, I just don’t really know if I should support the organization that says so.

There are J6ers who rejected their pardon. They agree that what they did was wrong, why can’t you? Even then, what about the J6ers who… Beat up a police officer? So many others beat up police, I thought you backed the blue? The whole movement was to “fight for your country.” Trump told you to… Fight. Fight. Not protest, not speak up, fight. Fight tooth and nail for your “freedom”. And if you don’t hate minorities why don’t you support DEI? And the plane crash wasn’t because of it it’s because trump FIRED everyone. Literally.

The Nazis called themselves socialists because at the time everyone loved socialism. Do Nazis fight for workers rights? Do Nazis fight for free healthcare? Do Nazis give a fuck about equality? Hell no. Nazis didn’t support a community where they have the means of production. He was a capitalist, if he was a socialist he couldn’t afford to make the wonder weapons that he usually made. If communism is socialism capitalism is facism. I’d argue that if I was a big ceo who makes a shit ton of money, would I vote for the people who tax the rich, who give workers rights, or enslaved everyone to work under me? I would vote for the slaves because I’d be a billionaire, but I’m not so I have basic empathy for people less fortunate than me. Do you?

I’d argue I could beat you up with the American flag.

Yo, correct me if I am wrong please, but didn't Hitler rise to power because he promised to fix the German economy and people really liked that so they looked past everything else he was doing??? Like exactly what's happening in America right now???

So many people said they voted for Trump, put a truly evil person in power, because he said he'd fix the economy, and a little voice in my head is going, "Isn't that what happened with fucking Hitler??"

But I've seen no one point that out so maybe I'm miss remembering???????

[museiest]

WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER .ᐟ gojo satoru

PAIRING. ceo!gojo x kindergarten teacher!reader

ABOUT. ceo!gojo discovers he has a son which leads him to the harmony fields kindergarten, where the woman who almost ran into him with her car in the morning is his son's teacher and the cause of his future sleepless nights.

NOTES. it's finally here!! had some trouble with the written part of this smau so that's why i took so long in posting it, this was the winner in this poll. this is a multi-part smau. harmony fields is the name of the kindergarten.

WARNINGS. enemies to lovers ⋆ typos ⋆ ignore timestamps ⋆ english is not my first language ⋆ written part (is sh!t y'all) ⋆ gojo's is insufferable ⋆ utahime's the owner of harmony fields ⋆ written part takes place a day after the incident and it's 1,04k words.

part one | part two | part three | more?

“Okay. . .remember what we practiced?” the white-haired man immediately asked as he helped the boy out of his car.

The kid nodded slowly and looked up at Satoru, waiting for him to hand over the chips he bought for him on the way here.

“I’ll give them to you, kid, but first, let’s practice one more time,” Satoru warned, “You're going to say that i'm your dad and that your mom is away on a trip, 'kay?”

“But you said that you weren't my dad, and my mom isn’t on a trip,” the boy pointed out seriously, making the blue-eyed man sigh.

“Just say it, please? if you don’t, i’ll take you to the police station and let them deal with you," Satoru threatened with a unsettling smile.

“He’s my dad, and my mom is away on a trip,” Megumi repeated, irritated by the man.

Truth is, he missed his mom and he wished she was there with him instead of the stranger who was taking care of him now.

“Yes! Good boy,” Satoru ruffled the Megumi’s hair like he was petting a dog, he definitely wasn't used to dealing with kids, especially one his age.

How do you even treat a five-year old? Was what had been going through Gojo's head since his son arrived at his apartment.

“Ah, Gojo! Right on time, looks like having a son is finally doing you some good,” Utahime called out as she walked towards the entrance of her kindergarten, where the dad and son duo were.

“Utahime, my least favorite person! it's been, what? two months?" he sneered.

“It’s always such a disgrace seeing you, Gojo," she said bitterly before putting on her best smile and looking at the five-year-old, “And you must be Megumi, right?”

“He’s my dad, and my mom is on a trip,” Megumi stated almost robotically, making the Harmony Field's director laugh.

“Wow, how cool!” she exclaimed, gesturing for them to follow her inside.

“Yeah, his mom is at a seminar in Europe,” the ceo lied smoothly.

“Europe? You must be very proud, Megumi,” the dark-haired woman tried to make some chitchat but Megumi remained silent, walking behind them as quietly as possible.

“’Gumi doesn’t talk much, but it’s something i- we’ve been working on. . .” Satoru excused himself with another lie, though Utahime barely paid attention, too focused on you approaching. It was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the new dad and the new kid joining your class.

“Yn! Come over here, this is Gojo Satoru and his son, Megumi,” Utahime introduced, making your eyes widen in surprise as soon as you locked eyes with the man you almost hit with your car on your way to the kindergarten.

“You?/You?” you both said at the same time, his eyes sharp enough that if looks could kill, you'd be in a coffin with people saying how good of a person you were; and you just forced a polite smile to hide your annoyance at seeing him at your workplace, such arrogant man didn't seem like a father to you, not even a bad one, he just seemed like the kind of guy who didn't care for kids at all but there he was, putting on his best smile with his son who didn't look like him at all except for his eyes and messy hair.

“You two know each other?” your friend and colleague asked, looking between you both expectantly.

“Yeah. . .turns out this dad likes to go running in the middle of the street in the morning,” you muttered through gritted teeth, making the man scoff.

“Right. And it seems like there's more and more of those crazy drivers these days, dangerous, isn’t it?” Satoru shot back. You barely heard Utahime’s response, too focused on the annoyance bubbling inside you. Who did this guy think he was? He had to be some kind of irresponsible deranged idiot.

You rolled your eyes once more before glancing down and noticing the little boy looking at you curiously.

You crouched down to meet his eyes and be able to speak to him directly, the first impression with children was always the most important to you rather than the one with the parent, “Hi, sweetheart! you must be Megumi, how are you?” you asked kindly, you've loved kids since forever and it didn’t matter that this particular kid belonged to the most insufferable man you'd ever met.

Megumi’s eyes looked sad, distant and lost, as if all he wanted was to be anywhere but here. Still, you tried talking to him, sensing his struggle in interacting with people.

When he didn’t respond, you continued, “You know, in the classroom there's lots of kids your age who can’t wait to meet you. They’ve been so excited ever since we told them a new friend for them was coming. And guess what? Today’s your lucky day because we have a special activity with puppies! How does that sound?” you asked with a warm smile and at the mention of 'puppies,' Megumi’s eyes lit up, an expression of excitement appearing on his face for the first time since he got there along with a soft smile. Even Satoru seemed surprised to see it, he hadn't smiled at all when he was at his apartment and now he does with a complete stranger? not that he wasn't one either but the father (if you could call him that) had tried everything the day before to make the kid laugh and all he got was a 'you're not funny' from him.

“Are there really going to be puppies?” Megumi asked, a special glimmer in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Of course! So what do you say? Want to wait for them with the other kids?” you asked, extending your hand to his smaller one. Megumi glanced between his dad and you before nodding and taking your hand with a small smile still on his lips and that was the first step to make this kid as happy as he could be.

Without hesitation, you led him towards the rest of the class, happy that your first interaction with the boy had been a success. You just hoped things would stay that way, today, tomorrow and hopefully forever.

ARTIFACTS .ᐟ

• hari fushiguro is megumi's aunt, she's took care of him for two weeks and that was it. she didn't have enough money to raise him and her daughter so she went to gojo's apt since she remembered he had a lot of money when they hooked up and made up a story about her sister and him.

• toji's dead and tsumiki doesn't exist in this one since toji died before megumi was born.

• his mom died two weeks ago but since he's still a kid, he doesn't know how to process it so he thinks his mom left him and that's why his aunt didn't want him either.

• ofc gojo isn't his father but they make him believe he is.

• that's all!! enjoy <3

© MUSEIEST 2025

[psycholuvrgirl]

duplicity! [teaser]

rafe cameron x sweetheart!pogue!oc [baby porter]

summary: baby porter, the pogue princess, asks rafe cameron out on a date after losing a bet. to her surprise, rafe says yes.

warnings: nsfw (very brief smut)! 

a/n: this is just a teaser for this series. this series will follow the plot of obx, so a lot of it is going to seem very familiar, just with a twist because baby will be in it

wc: 2.1k

it was meant to be just one simple task: ask rafe cameron on a date. baby lost a bet with jj and the punishment was simple, but the problem is baby porter is, unlike most pogues, terribly shy.

“guys i don’t think i can do it,” she says, glancing across the boneyard where rafe was standing. he has an arm wrapped around his sister, sarah, laughing with kelce and topper about god knows what.

“you lost, baby, you gotta do it. deal’s a deal,” jj says.

“deal’s a deal,” she breathes out. “okay. i can do this.”

“you can do this,” kie assures.

baby stands from the log she was sat in, crossing the sandy expanse until she was right in the lion’s den of kooks. also unlike most pogues, baby got along with most of the kooks—she wasn’t like other pogues, which meant she wasn’t treated like one. so her presence didn’t seem to unnerve anyone in the group.

“sup, baby,” topper says, throwing back a swig of his beer.

“hi baby,” sarah says with a warm smile, “what’s up?”

“uh, well, actually…” baby straightens her back, clearing her throat and doing the best to sound as confident as she can. “i’m here to talk to rafe.”

“me?” rafe asks, pointing the lip of his bottle to his own chest.

“mhm,” baby says with a nod.

the kooks ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at this, making rafe mutter threats at them as he follows baby away. she shoots the pogues a glance—a final plea to be done with this, but they all just give her encouraging thumbs-ups. so she continues to lead rafe to a more secluded area.

“am i in trouble with the pogue princess?” he teases.

“don’t call me that,” baby says through a whisper.

baby isn’t sure when she earned the nickname “pogue princess” but she didn’t like it, not one bit. it made her feel weird, but for some reason the nickname coming from rafe’s lips didn’t seem to bother her as much as it normally would. but she quietly scolds him all the same.

they both take a seat on a large branch that washed ashore, rafe’s whole body turned towards baby as he awaits whatever it is she dragged him out here for. baby clears her throat, uncrossing her legs just to cross them back over.

“so, rafe…” she says.

he lets out a laugh. “so, baby…” he takes a sip of his beer. “what d’ya need?”

if baby has learned one thing from her pogue friends, it’d be to just “let it rip” in any circumstance that could remotely use that advice. so that’s what she does.

“will you go on a date with me?” she asks, words tumbling out faster than even she can comprehend.

“what?” he asks with another laugh, “i have no idea what you just said, b.”

she clears her throat again, sitting up straighter. “i said…” she looks down at her nails, picking at the pink polish coating them. “will you go on a date with me?”

she braces herself for rafe’s reaction. she expects laughter, for him to holler in her face and say the big “no” as if she just asked him for a million dollars.

“sure.”

her eyes bug out of her head, head snapping up to look at him. “what did you just say?”

“sure,” he repeats.

“y— you wanna go on a date? with me?” she asks. a small smile raises to his lips, the smile turning into a quiet chuckle. he nods, and baby’s eyes only widen further. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean, you’re cute,” he says, “why not?”

her skin burns at the compliment. “you think i’m cute?”

“why do you sound so surprised? you know you’re cute,” he says.

“no i don’t,” she says.

“well…” rafe scoots closer to her, his cologne invading her senses. “i can assure you…” he kisses her left cheek. “that you, baby…” then her right. “are very cute.” his lips meet hers, just for a moment. the kiss is over almost as soon as it began and baby porter is still left a blubbering mess after it. her mouth opens to speak, then closes, then reopens. no words come out though, making rafe laugh just a little more. “how about tomorrow night? i’ll pick you up at around seven?”

she nods wordlessly and he chuckles.

“i’ll see you then,” he says, standing from the branch. he holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him pull her up effortlessly.

“see ya,” she breathes out.

he leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before walking away. she stands there stunned for far too long, and when she finally snaps back to reality she scurries back to her friends.

“how’d it go?” john b asks.

“should we start planning the wedding?” jj asks.

“he… he said yes,” baby says.

kiara’s head nearly snaps off from how quickly she turns, pope drops his beer on the sand, john b’s jaw falls slack, and jj spits out the beer in his mouth.

“he what?” pope asks.

“you’re going on a date with rafe cameron?” jj asks. before baby can answer, he howls with laughter. “oh my god, that is priceless!”

but, for some odd reason, baby porter didn’t find this funny—not even a little bit, not even at all.

“what are you even worried about?” jj asks, “it’s rafe fucking cameron. you don’t need to impress the guy, you just need to get this over with.”

a honk from outside pulls baby’s attention away from her friends. “that’s him.”

“we’ll walk you out,” pope says. baby turns to pope with a scrunched face. “what? it’s for safety reasons.”

baby sighs, reluctantly standing and allowing her four friends to follow her out of the chateau. rafe is on his phone, standing next to his car, and looks up at the sound of the front door shutting. he looks over baby’s outfit—a sundress over a bikini, just in case. his eyebrows raise as he looks her over, then his face falls as he notices the pogues behind her.

“have her home by eight,” jj says.

“jay, it’s only seven,” baby says, shooting jj a glare.

“fine. eight thirty,” he says.

“ignore him,” baby says with a small, nervous giggle. rafe laughs with her, but it’s evidently forced for her comfort.

“just, don’t do anything stupid,” kiara says, ever the blunt one in the group. “bring her back in one piece, okay?”

“okay,” rafe says, in hopes that they’d go away. and his wish is granted because they all reluctantly head back inside, tossing looks over their shoulders at baby. she doesn’t seem to notice though. no, not when her focus is on the tall man in front of her.

“hi,” she says.

he smiles. “hi.” he makes his way to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that makes her heart flutter.

and the rest of the night goes the same. he brings her onto the druthers for a picnic under the stars, bringing them to the middle of the ocean so they have privacy, the stars and a few candles being the only light they have on the deck of the boat.

“have you ever gone night swimming?” baby asks.

“hasn’t everyone?” rafe asks. both of them are laying next to each other, most of the food packed away by now. they stare up at the stars as the silence of the night engulfs them, only breaking the silence every so often.

“probably,” baby says with a laugh, “i guess that was a silly question.”

“did you want to?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. “did you want to go night swimming?”

she turns to him with a bright smile, nodding rapidly. rafe gets up from his spot, helping baby up. he strips off his shirt as she gets rid of her dress. rafe runs and dives off the end of the boat and baby follows him, diving into the cold ocean. they both resurface, letting out joyous laughs when they see each other. 

despite everything she’s been told about rafe cameron, baby actually finds herself having the best night of her life with him. her heart sinks a little at the thought of everyone’s judgements making it take this long for her to ever get to know the beautiful boy in front of her.

“why are you frowning?” rafe asks.

“oh, am i? i didn’t mean to,” she says. baby swims closer to him and he grabs her, letting her wrap herself around him.

“are you not enjoying the date?” he asks.

“no, i am!” she exclaims, her heart quickening at the thought of him believing this is anything other than perfect. “i’m loving tonight, honest!”

“then what’s wrong?” he asks, tucking a soaked strand of hair behind her ear.

“it’s just… you’re so different than what i expected,” she says, “i wish i had asked you sooner.”

rafe doesn’t bother with words. he was never good with words anyways. instead he presses his lips to hers, their lips moving passionately with one another. heads twisting as baby holds onto rafe just that much tighter. like he might slip away if she doesn’t, like the moment might fade to nothing if she lets him go.

the brush of something against her leg has baby scrambling to climb rafe, ruining their perfect kiss as she yelps.

“what was that! something touched my foot!” she exclaims. rafe breaks into a fit of laughter, but she’s still trying to climb him as if he’s a tree. “it’s not funny, rafe!”

she quickly swims over to the side of the boat, hauling herself up and shivering on the ledge. he follows her up and guides her inside. the air is warmer down below and rafe wraps a towel around baby’s shoulders.

“there you go,” he whispers.

“thank you,” she says with a shy smile.

rafe responds by reconnecting their lips, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other lands on her waist. her arms wrap around his neck, letting her hands move through his hair. when his tongue slips against hers, caressing it sensually, she lets out a whimper that goes straight to rafe’s dick.

he gently nudges her down onto the couch. he hovers above her without detaching their lips. he pulls at the tie of her bikini top, slipping the fabric away. he pulls back and looks down at her with hearts in his eyes.

“wow,” he whispers. baby crosses her arm over her chest, but he gently pries it away to continue admiring her. then, he dives in. his lips wrap around one nipple, his hand massaging the other. he switches after some time, leaving baby to mewl at the sensations he’s causing. 

“kiss me again,” she says, trying to pull him up. he obliges, climbing back up to bring their lips back to their prior rhythmic dance together. his hand slips down her body, falling beneath her bikini bottom and massaging her wet slit. she lets out a quiet whimper as he gathers the wetness on his fingers, then a loud moan when he brings his fingers to her clit.

“you like that?” he asks. she nods her head and he dips back down to kiss her, swallowing every moan that falls from her pretty lips.

he slowly pushes one finger inside of her, then another. leaving her a mess underneath him. she grinds up towards him, chasing her own release.

“rafe, please,” she pleads as he slips his fingers in and out of her.

“please what, baby?” he pants. she’s past using words at this point, too lost in her own pleasure to make her mouth form anything coherent. so she takes matters into her own hands, literally. she drops her hand down to cup him, massaging him through his board shorts. she slips her hand inside, wrapping her tiny hand around his length. they both grind into one another’s hands, chasing their highs. when they both get their release they lay there, content with one another’s company. 

interrupted by the ringing of baby’s phone, they both reluctantly go back to the deck to retrieve the device.

“did he kidnap you? what’s taking so long?” kiara asks.

baby rolls her eyes, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” john b shrieks.

“goodbye guys.”

since that night, rafe and baby have been inseparable. in secret, that is. both went home to report to their friends that the date was just a bust, both knowing that if their friends knew about their successful date that they’d never hear the end of it. so that’s how the relationship went. sneaking out late at night, long weekends spent alone together, calls until the early morning. it worked for them — secret, intimate, and just perfect.

[totalswag]

raw next question? pt 2 ⎯ RAFE CAMERON!

authors note the amount of support i got on my last fic is unbelievable, thank you so much. i tried my best for part two so i hope you guys like it. so, here you go 👀. raw next question

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary after leaving a comment under rafe's post, he responds back showing interest and reaches out.

warning(s) flirting, kissing at the end, cuteness, and meeting rafe for the first time.

rafecameron: hey! bold move, I think we should talk.

The only thing running through your mind is⎯what the actual fuck. To be fair, you were expecting a response or comment, not even a dm. You don't know what to say.

"Okay, we need to think of something to say because," you hesitate for a few minute, "yeah, I don't have anything to say" you trail off before stretching the back of your head.

Zoie lets out a breath: "I say we wait to respond then once we come up with a response, send it to him."

Five minutes later, you open your phone, click on the text, and begin typing a reply. "This is what I'm going to respond with," you say, pointing to your phone to the girls. 

yourusername: hey haha, thought I’d hop on the trend. didn’t expect you to reply tho.

Two minutes later, he responds.

rafecameron: oh, so I’m just part of a trend? damn, i thought i was special... 😔

yourusername: haha so funny, rafe

yourusername: i admit though you're attractive

rafecameron: ahh the truth comes out huh

rafecameron: since we're speaking the truth, you're gorgeous

Rafe and you started conversation among other topics. One of the main things you two found out is that you live an hour away from each other. By the end of the week, you exchanged phone numbers.

After Rafe responded to your comment, you two started leaving sly/flirty comments on each other's posts that spiked conversations between your supporters.

They're messing with us right?

They keep playing eye tag... HOLLA AT YO BOY!!

"Would you like to meet up sometime?" Rafe asked casually over FaceTime while searching the kitchen cupboard for something, his phone resting against a glass cup. 

It's been a month since Rafe and you have been texting and calling. Constantly texting⎯quick responses. It became a routine for the both of you. Learned a lot about each other in a span of a month.

Your back was against the headboard as you sat on your bed. He wants to meet you in person, and your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "Yeah, I would like that," was all you could offer.

Peeping over his shoulder, Rafe chuckles quietly and smiles. "I'm thinking this weekend if you aren't busy?" "I would drive to you," he says, suggesting.

You raise your upper body off the headboard and reply, "I'll send you my address the day before, I'm not doing anything this weekend."

"Perfect!" He smiles.

Today was the day⎯Rafe and you are meeting for the first time. Nervous and excited about all this. You don't want to make a fool of yourself. Rafe was forty minutes away, in the meantime, you were on the phone with Zoie and Evenly.

Rafe offered to drive to visit you, and you couldn't help but be anxious. He was an hour away, yet his attempt to see you meant more than you could express.

"Bitches I'm shitting bricks" you confess feeling anxious, running your hands down your thighs, walking around the kitchen.

"Y/N, it's normal to feel this way especially since you're meeting him for the first time. Take a few deep breaths and if you need anything from us, we're one call, and few doors down" Evelyn reassures you in a soothing tone.

"Agreed, you got this, it's normal to feel this way," Zoie expresses.

"Thank you, you two are such great friends, I love you so much" you say with honesty, your phone buzzes, you put your phone back.

rafe: five minutes away

you: perfect, see you soon!!

You gasps, quickly putting your phone back to your ear, "he's five minutes away um, I'll text you guys throughout the day."

Once Rafe got to the apartment complex, you walked down the stairs to where he parked⎯he was getting his bags from his trunk. You were amazed how tall he was too.

Before you can say anything, he turns around and says, "Hey, Y/N," with a smile that conveys how happy he is to see you.

Seeing him in person made you realize he's even more handsome. Rafe couldn't keep his eyes off you, he couldn't help but think how he's standing infront of someone as beautiful as you.

"Hey, Rafe, It's good to see you" you say, taking a big breath and gazing up at his towering body. You grin and lean into the hug. The height difference between you two is insane. He

"It's great to finally meet you; you're even more beautiful in person," he says to you, smiling. You chuckle softly at his compliment, "thank you handsome" and smile.

After arriving at your place, you show Rafe where everything is and where he will be staying—either your bed or the guest bedroom, which has been thoroughly cleaned and sanitized. 

Rafe was happy to see your apartment and commented on how well it matches your vibe. He took his time looking around the apartment. Since you were already ready for the day, you spent ten more minutes in the apartment before heading out.

You have no idea what the plan was today. Rafe intended for a lasting and enjoyable day. You persisted on showing him around, but he said he wanted to be the one to take you places, even if he didn't know where. 

"This is has been such a great day, thank you Rafe" you tell him with full honesty as you two get settled to play mini golf.

He looks up from the floor and responds with a kind, sincere smile, "I'm glad you're enjoying it." "I remember you mentioning you loved mini golf too."

He is able to recall the small details.

Your heart sank to your feet since no male has ever recalled the small information you shared with them. As you playfully nudge him, you exclaim, "I can't believe you remember that."

He chuckles, "I'm just good at remember."

Mini golf was a lot of fun, with plenty of laughs and competition between you two. In the beginning, he noticed your concentration and took out his phone to record you until you spotted him flipping him off.

Towards the end of the night, Rafe and you drove to an ice cream shop and ate it outside. You had little conversations and learnt more about each other today.

Before putting a scoop of his ice cream in his mouth, he says, "We should make a tiktok."

After contentedly leaning back in your chair, you decided to do it. In addition, many who support you have been wondering if you two will ever cross paths. They're going to be amazed.

she knows remix slowed.

Rafe began lip-syncing, his expression playful and undoubtedly attractive. When it got to looking like the Fourth of July, you're officially coming with me, he switched the phone to you. You were already staring at him, eyes full of admiration, unable to conceal the warm smile on your lips.

The camera returned to him, and he tried not to chuckle, tilting his phone downward as he giggled. The final second of the video showed your arms wrapped around his neck.

rafe cameron: 👀

tagged yourusername

Fans were blowing up the comment section.

⇾ fan23: DO YOU SEE THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HIM!!

⇾ fan12: you know you have thirty minutes

⇾ fan1: i decided if i want y/n or rafe 😔

⇾ fan3: im sat for this

By the time you returned to your flat, the tension had grown to a point where it could no longer be ignored. Rafe took a step closer as you paused nervously by your door. His hand softly stroked your cheek, his gaze seeking yours, before he asked, "Is this okay?"

You barely had time to nod before his lips touched yours, gentle and languid, like if he was savoring the moment. The kiss was pleasant, but it also hinted at something deeper.

When you eventually pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, chuckling. "Best decision I ever made was replying to that comment."

"Best decisions I ever made was commenting" you softly say, smiling.

⎯⎯ my taglist! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

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[thesuperiorrobin]

She knew~

pairing: Damian Wayne x Crush!Reader

Warning: Agnsty? Not that much I promise, good ending, maybe, slight swearing? Reader is a bit flirty??? I think there’s a part 2.

There's something about laying in a hospital bed that's so humbling for Damian.

His arm was in a cast and his head was wrapped in bandages. A mission went wrong, that was covered up by a so-called "terrible car accident". Everybody believed it, because why would they believe the truth of Damian taking a bad fall dress up in his Robin uniform? Some of his brothers tease him for what had happened that night, and if he wasn't held back by his position in the hospital he was sure he would have all their heads on a stick by now. His father didn't seem any bit worried about him, that's what Damian thought, after the countless scoldings he's gotten he's sure his father doesn't care.

Damian has spent the last two days in the hospital, on the third day he'll be released. And he can't wait, the smell, the atmosphere the so-called food they serve him-- he can't wait to leave it all behind. But for now, Damian lies on the slightly uncomfortable bed with a book in his good hand. His family hasn't bothered him in a while and he's thankful for that, he's gotten used to soft voices through his room door and soft beeping occasionally that seemed to echo through his hospital room.

There’s a soft knock on the door that catches his attention and he groans—thinking it’s one of his family members coming to visit home again.

Damian prays it’s just a nurse coming to check up on him. He chooses not to answer and after a few seconds the door opens up—the person who steps into his dull white room was not the person he was expecting.

In you go, with a bouquet in your hand dressed in your school uniform.

"Hey" your voice is soft and careful "how are you feeling?"

Damian doesn't answer right away, he pretends to think about his answer before he clears his throat "I feel like I could be doing better at the moment" he places his book down.

"Here, these are for you" you hand him the flowers "I just came to see how you were doing, everybody's worried”

"Only because I'm the son of Bruce Wayne" he murmurs, glaring at you softly—scoffing as he does so.

"That's not true" you frown, He gives you a look "Well Maybe, yeah I guess you're right, but I'm worried Damian. I saw the news and the cars. Damian you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't L/N so there is no need to worry about that anymore"

You let out a sigh as you pull a chair beside him on his bed, It's been a while since you last saw him, two weeks to be precise almost three. Your eyes linger on him for a bit longer. He looks more tired than usual and angry. His hair is messy, with strands of hair spiked up in random directions. Though purple and blue covered his skin from head to toe he still seemed visually breathtaking.

"Did you just come here to just stare at me?" He snaps, and you jump back in your seat, a part of him regrets snapping at you so suddenly, that you clear your throat with a smile.

"Sorry, I'm just used to you being….” You trail off for a moment trying to find the right words to not offend the younger Wayne in his condition. “…so well organized. If I had a penny for every time I've seen you a mess I would have one”

His only response was a hum, and the room was silent between you two. The only sound echoing through the room was the soft voices from outside the room and the beeping of the monitor. “It’s quiet in most of the classes now. Did you know that?”

“How so?”

“Teachers pointed out how quiet the classes are since you’ve gotten stuck in the hospital. We’re known for yapping away in the back of class” You let out a breathy laugh, glancing up at Damian who holds a frown.

“You mean yourself?” Damian raises his brow at you “I normally don’t hold conversations. The teachers were probably talking about you—you do tend to talk a lot”

“Rude” You huff out and a chuckle leaves the injured Wayne's lips, which brings a smile to yours “But I guess you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re usually the only have I have a good laugh within class”

Somehow, your hand finds his. All bandaged and bruised but you don’t mind and Damian says nothing. His green eyes glance down at your face, hoping to meet yours but you keep them focused down at his hand. Despite the thick layer of bandages, he can still feel the warmth of your fingers as they softly glide against his palm.

“I miss complementing your artwork, it’s not the same when I’m looking beside me and see someone else’s artwork”

“You only compliment them when you copy my notes” he hums, “you say it as a thank you when I let you do so”

“Mhm..” you hum “but now, every time I look beside me there’s always a student sleeping with their paper blank”

“Maybe you should start writing your notes….”

“I could…” you trail off, head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. “But what’s the point if I can’t use it as an excuse to talk to you?”

It takes a while for Damian to answer fully. He can feel his skin feel out, and he’s sure you can fill it, too, with a smug smile on your face. He looks away, away from your eyes, as he answers, “True….”

There’s another long silence between you two, a comfortable one and Damian can feel your hand slip away from his—it takes so much in him not to grab ahold of your hand once more. He hears the sudden screech of the chair against the floor, he turns his head—eyes locking in on your form. He wishes you could stay a little longer, your presence is the only thing that doesn’t annoy him as much as others do, and a part of him wants to tell you to stay a bit more but he bites his tongue.

He sees your hand hover over the doorknob, and you seem to hesitate for a moment, he does wish you decided to stay a bit longer. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, turning around to glance back at Damian, who only stares at you confusedly.

"Just because you wear a mask in the middle of the night while playing hero Damian, doesn't mean you're invincible"

huh?

"But anyway ill visit you tomorrow so I can hand you the homework you missed"

you give him one last smile before your figure disapears from his sight. Even after you left, his eyes burn holes at the door for a few more minutes before groaning and pulling at his hair in stress

"She knew?!"

Literally in the middle of my Art history class writing this Because I had nothing better to do.

[willowsnook]

an experiment (18+)

hey, could you write a story like the one you reposted of max ”popular“ but for lando? I absolutely loved the plot and never saw one like that before, but don’t feel pressured! thank you<3

A/N: Didn’t want to do the exact same plot but did the same kind of reporter x Lando vibe where they don’t like each other.

Lando Norris x Reporter!Reader

The media room was bustling with reporters, and your eyes were trained on Oscar Piastri as he answered the question you had just asked him, nodding along.

“So you’re not worried about team orders, then?” you asked to confirm, and he shot you a grin.

“We’re only 20 points apart, so no,” he replied, and you smiled, turning off your recorder. “Good to see you, Y/N. When are you coming to an overseas race?”

The other reporters around left as you stayed behind to talk to Oscar. “Not really sure. I’m mostly covering IndyCar this year. I’m only here today because our F1 beat reporter caught some kind of bug.”

You had covered F1 for ESPN last year and had a blast doing it, but the travel was a lot. When the chance came up to switch to IndyCar, you took it, wanting to stay in the U.S., where you were from. You did miss the F1 drivers, though. You had a good working relationship with all of them—well, except one.

You and Lando got off on the wrong foot last year, and things never really recovered. You asked him a simple question, and he bit your head off. Instead of folding, you challenged him and called him an asshole to his face, so things were a little testy after that.

You glanced up from your notes, keeping your expression neutral as Lando approached. “Norris.”

He sighed, barely looking at you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You ignored his tone, pressing the record button. “You had a solid P2 in practice. Do you feel confident heading into qualifying, or are there still issues you need to address?”

Lando shrugged, crossing his arms. “Car’s fine. We’ll see what happens.”

You blinked, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed on. “McLaren has been closing the gap to Red Bull in recent races. Do you think this track gives you a real opportunity to challenge for the win?”

He exhaled sharply. “You lot love asking the same pointless questions every weekend, don’t you?”

You kept your voice even. “I’m asking because fans and analysts are genuinely curious about McLaren’s trajectory. If you’d rather not answer, I can move on.”

Lando let out a humorless laugh. “Right, because you’re just here for the ‘fans and analysts’—not to pick apart every word I say.”

Your grip on your pen tightened, but you refused to take the bait. “I’m here to report, Norris. What I’m not here to do is argue with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered.

You inhaled slowly, keeping your professionalism intact. “Alright. Final question—realistically, where do you see yourself finishing this weekend?”

Lando gave you a flat look. “Ahead of where you think I will.”

You held his gaze for a moment before calmly closing your notebook. “Noted. Thanks for your time.”

He scoffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

You watched as he walked off without another word, then sighed, shutting off your recorder. Interviews with Lando Norris were always a test of patience—but at least this time, you hadn’t given him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Y/N!” You heard Carlos call out, and you instantly brightened. He was one of your favorites on the grid, and you truly missed him this season.

“Hi, Carlos,” you said, walking next to him as you were both leaving the pen. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you? Still beefing with Lando, I see,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s such a pain in the ass,” you muttered, and he let out a loud laugh.

“Please, the tension between the two of you—nothing like it,” he said, and you stopped short, giving him an incredulous look.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you asked, and he grinned.

“There are literally three different bets I know of on when you guys will get together,” he said, amused, and your eyes narrowed.

“I don’t even cover F1 races anymore,” you said.

He shrugged, holding the door open for you.

"That doesn't matter," Carlos said with a mischievous grin. "The sparks between you two are undeniable. Even from across the pond."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're delusional, Sainz. There's nothing between Lando and me except mutual disdain."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then why does he always ask about you when you're not around?"

You froze mid-step, turning to face him. "He... what?"

"Oh, yes," Carlos nodded, clearly enjoying this. "He tries to be subtle about it, but we all notice. 'Has anyone heard from Y/N?' 'Is Y/N covering this race?' It's quite amusing, actually."

You were about to argue when you caught sight of Lando across the paddock, talking to his race engineer. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you felt a simmer of the electricity Carlos was talking about. Lando looked from you to Carlos and frowned, looking away.

“Whatever, Carlos. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, dismissing him as you headed to where your car was, thinking about what he said.

Lando was an asshole to you. That was a fact. But there were things that were off: he always took your questions first, his eyes lingered on you from across the room—almost always—and you could tell how irritated he was anytime you were talking casually with another driver.

Pair that with the fact that your boss had asked if you wanted to be moved last season to cover a different team, to which you replied no because there was just something so exciting about getting under his skin. You always had a thing for guys like him, and it didn’t really help that he was as hot as he was.

You were still irritated as you got back to your apartment and quickly texted your group chat, begging to have a girls' night out. Luckily, most of your friends were free, and one of them snagged a last-minute reservation at a place nearby.

A couple of hours later, you were two drinks in, laughing about one of your friend’s most recent Hinge horror stories. Smiling, your eyes wandered around the room, landing on a very familiar mullet.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered, and your friends looked at you and then over to where you were looking. Grace was the first to laugh.

“You two are truly like magnets. Carlos was right,” she said. You shot her a pointed look. They all knew about your disdain for Lando, and you had told them what Carlos had said, hoping they’d back you up about it being ridiculous, but they had all agreed with him.

At the attention of all your friends, Lando’s friends looked over at the table, some of them smiling widely when they recognized you. It didn’t take long for one of them to come sauntering over.

“Hey, ladies,” he said. “We’re about to wrap up and would love if you guys joined us at the next bar.”

“No,” you said at the same time that your friends said, “Yes.” You groaned, putting your head into your hands.

After paying your bill, you reluctantly followed your friends out and to the next bar. Lando and his friends were hanging out on the patio, and they were excited to see your group make it. Lando smiled at all your friends, introducing himself, but then narrowed his eyes when he got to you. You rolled your eyes, muttering that you needed a drink, and walked off.

You leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender's attention. The night air was cool on your skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere inside. You couldn't believe your luck—or lack thereof. Of all the places in the city, Lando and his crew had to end up at the same spot as you and your friends.

"Fancy seeing you here," a familiar voice said behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Lando.

"I could say the same to you," you replied, keeping your eyes on the bartender. "Shouldn't you be resting up for qualifying tomorrow?"

Lando moved to stand beside you, effortlessly flagging down the bartender. "I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be covering the race?"

You finally turned to face him, crossing your arms. "I'm allowed to have a life outside of my job."

"So am I," he said, mirroring you.

"You sure about that?" you asked, tilting your head. "Because the way you act, it seems like your entire personality revolves around racing and being a pain in my ass."

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "You love it, though."

You scoffed. "I tolerate it."

He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his body in the cool night air. "You tolerate me? Interesting. Because from where I’m standing, you go out of your way to get under my skin."

You arched a brow. "Funny, I was about to say the same about you."

Lando’s gaze flickered to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. "Maybe we just enjoy the game too much."

You refused to be the first to look away. "Or maybe you just hate that I don’t fall for your usual charm."

His smirk deepened. "Who said I was trying to charm you?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed, taking a slow sip of your drink. "The lingering stares? The petty jabs? The way you just so happened to end up at the same bar as me tonight?"

Lando leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I just like watching you get all worked up."

You swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of the way your pulse quickened. "Keep dreaming, Norris."

He smirked, stepping back just enough to let you breathe but not enough to break the tension crackling between you. "Sweet dreams, then, Y/N."

And just like that, he walked away. But before he could get far, you yanked his arm to turn him around and crashed your lips against his.

The kiss was electric, a charged collision of all the tension that had been building between you for months. Lando's surprise quickly melted away as he responded with equal fervor, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. The world around you blurred as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you found yourselves staring at each other with a mix of shock and desire. The background noise of the bar slowly filtered back in, reminding you of where you were.

"Well," Lando said, his voice husky. "That was..."

"A mistake," you finished, even as your body screamed otherwise. You took a step back, trying to regain your composure. "An experiment."

"An experiment," he repeated. "And what exactly was the hypothesis?"

"I’m shocked you know that word," you said, avoiding the question.

"Y/N," he warned.

"A mutual friend hypothesized that the way we act toward each other was because of something other than hatred," you admitted, thankful that you were on drink number four now.

"And the conclusion?" he asked, tipping his head curiously.

"Inconclusive," you said, and his eyes flickered back down to your lips for a second.

"Probably need more testing," he said darkly, and your pulse quickened.

"Probably," you agreed, not breaking eye contact.

"Let’s go," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the exit.

"I just got my drink," you complained, but made no move to stop him.

His hotel was only a couple of blocks away. That was the only thing he said the whole walk over, but his hand gripped yours tightly.

By the time you made it to his floor, his pace quickened, like he didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind. The door opened, then closed, and suddenly you were pressed against it, his lips on your neck.

It lasted a minute before you gripped his hair, yanking his head back so you could press your lips against his.

The kiss was rough and demanding, both of you fighting each other with something other than words this time. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, and you lifted it up, watching his eyes widen at your bare chest.

Lando's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. His hands skimmed up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual dynamic. "Shut up and kiss me, Norris."

He smirked, clearly enjoying your impatience. "So demanding," he teased, but obliged, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tugging at his shirt until he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of skin on skin was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the small moan that escaped you as he pressed you further against the door.

His hands trailed down from your waist, past the loose band of your pants and under your panties. He lightly traced over your clit before moving to where you wanted him. 

“So wet baby, are you sure you hate me?” He teased as you moaned out. 

“Positive,” you got out before he slipped a finger inside, finding your g-spot and massaging it. 

Your head fell back against the door as Lando worked his fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. But you weren't about to let him have all the control. With a sudden surge of strength, you pushed off the door, forcing him to stumble backwards towards the bed.

"My turn," you growled, shoving him onto the mattress. Lando's eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk never left his face as you straddled him.

"Thought you hated me," he teased, his hands gripping your hips.

You ground down against him, relishing the groan that escaped his lips. "I do," you breathed. "This is simply an experiment."

Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his hardening length. Lando hissed as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping slowly up and down. 

“Don’t tease,” he grumbled and you smiled wickedly at him, swiping your thumb over his head causing him to whimper. The noise took you both by surprise and you knew he was embarrassed. 

“I thought you hated me,” you threw his own words back at him. “But it sounds like you don’t.”

He started to argue back but you quickly shifted your hips, slowly sinking down on top of him. 

You both gasped as you fully pushed him inside you, the sensation overwhelming. For a moment, you stayed still, adjusting to the feel of him stretching you. Lando's hands tightened on your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathed, voice strained. "You feel amazing."

Instead of responding, you began to move, setting a slow, torturous pace. Lando's head fell back against the pillows, a low moan escaping him. You couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph at reducing him to this state.

"Look at me," you commanded, voice husky. His eyes snapped to yours, pupils blown wide. "I want you to see exactly who's making you feel this good."

Lando's lips curled into a smirk, even as his breathing grew ragged. His fingers dug harshly into your waist and he started to move you faster against him and you groaned out. 

Lando suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion. The change in position drove him even deeper inside you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. His eyes locked onto yours, blazing with intensity.

"My turn," he growled, echoing your earlier words.

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit spots that made you see stars. His thrusts were deep and purposeful, each one drawing out a moan or whimper from your lips. You clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built.

Lando's lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there. The dual sensation of his mouth on your throat and his cock inside you was almost too much to bear. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his as he continued his assault on your pussy. 

"God, you feel incredible," he panted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he fought to maintain control. "So tight, so perfect for me."

Your back arched off the bed as he hit a deeper angle and your climax crashed over you. He sounded animalistic as his own release was triggered, spilling into you. 

The two of you breathed heavily for a moment looking at each other. Finally you pushed yourself off the bed and headed into the bathroom to pee and clean yourself off. When you returned, Lando was leaning against he headboard watching you as you put your clothes back on. 

“Leaving?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied, finally looking at him. “This was just an experiment remember, it wasn’t real.”

“I remember,” he said, still watching. “You could stay.”

“I have never in my life stayed over for a one night stand,” you said. You don’t know why you told him that, he didn’t need to know anything about your personal life. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, shocked. 

“Very.” 

Lando's eyes widened at your admission. "Never? Not even once?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as you slipped on your shoes. "Never saw the point. It's called a one-night stand for a reason."

He sat up straighter, the sheet pooling around his waist. "But what about... I don't know, cuddling? Or morning sex?"

You couldn't help but laugh. "Cuddling? With you? Please."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm an excellent cuddler," he protested, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, but found yourself hesitating by the door. "Look, Norris, this was... satisfying. But let's not make it more than it was."

Lando's expression sobered. "And what exactly was it, y/n.”

“An experiment,” you said again, leaving before he had a chance to ask what the result was. 

[somerandomcockroach]

*sets the sofa, sits down* AND WE RIGHT AWAY START FROM THE PROWL IS AND WILL BE A MURDERED STATEMENT. GOOD AHAHAH Love how much Prowl improved in reading emotions. Orion. You ask Prowl something that he probably memorized from the book and he of course will tell you a book definition. Don't cut it with your merely "It's a massacre" Still wonder at the fact of how much functionists had to f*** up the whole situation for the beasts, who are more than capable of intelligent thinking and just different by their mode or different things that can not even appear in them in the first place, for this whole situation to appear that even the "compromise" seems like a hardly reachable option. I understand if other monsters who are, more bests than mechas. But most of them seem to be, decent, normal, minding their business, just trying to find a fuel/food, yeah, this last is easily solvable.

Yeah, Orion, exactly, let me sit with you

Oh, here we are, Orion snaps at Prowl. Do it, he went in a different direction, the one leading to murder and blood, you know. The problems that are solved hard way are never logical ahah, good luck, Prowl *looks at Orion trying to see a glimpse of emotion from Prowl for at least his own death to crack his logic* I need a minute Orion for god's sake could you like, fake laws and give him your own written full of ponies and funsies?? You were giving him official books with laws, I'm sure a lot of written by Functionalists and you expect to break the logic that was based on it??? OH RATCHET. PROWL CAN DO NOTHING. OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAYOKA YAOKAYAOKAY. OKAY. NO ONE SAID RATCHET??? RATCHET, COULD, JUST, ARRRGHHHHHH BASTARDS ORION AND SHOCKWAVE MAXED THE "LOOK AWAY IN TIME" ABILITY BUT NO ONE TOLD RATCHET? OH YES. GETTING RID OF YOUR OWN SIGHT AND LEAVE. I BET THIS IS NOT A LOGICAL THING TO CONSIDER FOR PROWL EHEHHEHEE OH MY GOD sorry I need to sit because. Yes clean floor is an easy goal. But Prowl. You are. About to get such a big and complicated to reach goal that it is so mindblowing to now look at you and consider other golems. (Eh, sudden thought of someone getting off his artefact) Prowl. on which side you play I don't understand anymore. Are you trying to make a god out of Orion to scare functionalists by actually making good for them or what.

PROWL YOU COULD. YOU COULD COME UP WITH SUCH GREAT PLANS OF MASS MIGRATION OR AT LEAST BETTER HIDINGS FOR THEM. TRICKING ALL THE TROOPS. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT EVIL, NOT JOIN IT. oh, CONGRATS, your education went to the point where it became wrong! Congrats, Prowl, we are on a changing point ahah! YES IT IS HIS ARMY. HIS ARMY OF POWERFUL, MAGICAL, SAVED AND THANKFUL BEASTS WHO CAN FIGHT FOR SHOCKWAVE, AND I ACTUALLY WISH THAT THEY DID. I WISH THEY DID BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE. PROWL CAUGHT HIS BEFORE HE EVEN STUMBLED. PROWL MAKES WRONG THINGS BUT. BUT THE FACT THAT HE ACTUALLY COVERS HIM THIS WAY NO MATTER HOW BAD IT IS. I'M SURE ORION IS NOT HAPPY. SHOCKWAVE HAS NO ONE TO COVER HIM WHERE IT COULD KILL HIM. BUT EVERYTHING AROUND HIM IS BUILT WITH GREEN WALLS THAT ARE MUCH STRONGER THAN DENSE WALLS OF BLOOD.

I have several levels of uncomfortable feelings from this part

YOU DID NOT JUST GO TO SHOCKWAVE'S ACADEMY. THEY ARE NOT THE BEASTS YOU CAN TOUCH. EVER. OH MY FRICKING GOD OKAY HERE I CRY FOR REAL. THE SCENE OF HIM. SWORD AND BOOK. PROTECTING WITH EVERYTHING HE HAS. STANDING LIKE A MOUNTAIN AND THE PRIMUS ITSELF

THE COUNCIL WOULDN'T LET HIM DO THIS.... ..... what...... The burns are from?..

............ I just understand that. That I'm sure the way Shockwave "changed" is so many times harder and more powerful because of who he is and what he is capable of... Get Prowl, Orion nd Ratchet at one table and ask them if what they do will find a punishment from Primus.

............

....................... When Orion is in troubled feelings Prowl searches for Shockwave. All goals are tangled, lost and complicated. His goal became something he cannot reach no more since it evolved too hard. Oh my god I wanna see how... how that goal, something he cannot reach no more, just becomes a part of him, like a self forged motor heart of his, just to keep living. Are they... Shockwave's students?... F** THEY ARE I AM CRYING AGAIN SHIT F** YOU KEF I CANNOT NO MORE DON'T JSHDEDC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OKAY BREATH, COMEONE. LAST WILL. *INTENSIFIES CRYING* F*** YOUUUUUUUUUU THEY. EVERYTHING. HE LEFT EVERYTHING TO ORION. SKIDS???? THUNDERCRACKER?? OH DID ORION NEVER HOLD SHOCKWAVE'S SWORD??? or just became too weak from all the events... OH MY GOD THE SCENE OF KNEELING, THE SCENE OF THE STUDENT OF THEIR PASSED MASTER ON THE VERGE OF CRYING AND ALL THE STUDENTS OF HIS DEAR FRIEND KNEELING BEFORE HIM. I AM DEAD NO ONE TALK TO ME. PROWL LOOK. LOOK WHAT AN ILLOGICAL LONG TERM EFFORT MAKES. IT MAKES LITERALLY INEFFICIENT MIRACLE. THE MIRACLE THAT IS WORTH ALL THE PERCENTAGES. YOU DO NOT KILL AND WORK FOR IT TO BE MORE THAN ONE DAY MERCY I mean Ratchet got a boyfriend this way come on

WEHGEHGEWFHWFEWE HELP. I imagined that Shockwave had a score system or something for Skids to actually say "Best student" as something not of a brag level SHOCKWAVE YOU SMART SWEET ROLL I LOVE YOU. HE KNEW HOW TO DO IT RIGHT. SUCK IT COUNCIL AND COUNCIL DARE YOU TO TRY TO USE IT IN YOUR ADVANTAGE.

PROWL I SWEAR TO ALL THE GODS

(side note can I kiss you for just... rotating every possible side of Prowl? Like, I am just, suddenly understood that just a thing of Prowl assuming that Shockwave could betray Orion is something so fittable for him since he considers everything but just... when you look at it from the side of coming up with it. I wouldn't??)

SHOCKWAVE WHAT DID YOU DO.

They are still not executed. So I am sure it isn't about the saving monsters thing. I think Prowl leads the idea in the right direction. I am confused though at why Shockwave turned into demon at this exact time. What was the trigger. I am leaning closer to the dark magic than betrayal anyway

THE GOD MUST BE WRONG

RIGHT DIRECTION, PROWL.

ARE YOU... did you just... led him straight to mimics plotline....

Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!

_____________________

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Part 1. Next->

The fic under the cut⤵️

Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.

“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”

Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.

“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”

Orion rubs the bridge of his nose

“It's a massacre.”

Prowl twitches his wing.

“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”

Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.

Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”

Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.

“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”

“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”

Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.

“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”

Orion nods.

He looks oddly pensive.

“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”

Prowl frowns

“He should have stopped.”

“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”

“But...”

Orion looks at him angrily.

“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”

Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.

“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”

“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”

Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.

Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”

Prowl is silent for a moment.

Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.

“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”

What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.

In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.

Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.

But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.

He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.

“I'd get rid of the monsters.”

“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”

Prowl twitches his wings

“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”

“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”

“I believe it would.”

“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”

Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.

“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”

“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”

“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”

“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”

As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?

Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.

“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

-----------------

Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.

He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.

The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.

Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.

The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.

Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.

Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.

The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.

Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.

It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.

Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.

If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.

But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.

Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.

When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.

This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."

Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.

“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”

Ratchet shifts his gaze to him

“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”

Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely

“Knowing things is my job.”

Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.

“How does Orion deal with it...”

“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”

Prowl tilts his head

“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”

Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.

His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.

A willingness to act dictated by desperation.

The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.

Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.

Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.

He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.

He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.

The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.

Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“

And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.

Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.

He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.

Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.

Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.

————————————

Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.

“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”

“I did not.

“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”

“Congratulations.”

“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”

Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.

“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”

Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”

“You know how I feel about killing.”

“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”

Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.

“You killed them.”

“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”

Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.

“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”

Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.

Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.

“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”

Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.

It feels strange. Uncomfortable.

He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.

Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.

“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”

“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”

“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”

Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.

The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.

Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.

Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.

He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.

But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.

Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.

“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”

“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.

“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”

“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”

Orion falls silent.

He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.

A golem janitor hurries past them.

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Shockwave falls.

Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.

The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.

They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.

They say. He stood in front of the gates.

With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.

Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.

“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”

Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness

“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”

Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.

“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”

“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.

Orion looks pained

“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”

Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.

“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”

Orion continues to walk in circles

“You think so?”

“There is a good chance.”

Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.

But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.

And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.

This is all wrong. It's all--

“What happened at the trial?”

Orion sounds. Startled.

“There was no Trial.”

“What?”

Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.

“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.

He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”

An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.

"And?”

Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.

“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”

Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.

“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”

Orion nods shakily

“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....

He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”

That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...

What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.

Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him

“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”

Now that's a really reasonable question.

Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.

Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.

Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.

He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.

“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”

“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”

Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.

“What should I do....”

“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.

He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?

He doesn't know where to put himself.

Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.

He feels lost.

——————————

Orion stops cold.

“What...”

Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.

They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.

And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.

They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.

Orion looks... distraught.

Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.

“Orion Pax.”

There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.

When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.

“What...what are you doing here...?”

The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.

“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”

Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.

“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."

"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."

At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.

He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.

He just.

Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.

Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.

And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.

Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.

The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.

" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"

Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."

"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."

Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.

"This is crazy..."

Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head

"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."

Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.

"It is..."

"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."

"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."

Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly

"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."

He sighs helplessly

"I'm not even sure if that even matters."

"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."

Orion twitches

"What?"

"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"

Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.

"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."

"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."

They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.

"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."

"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.

Orion frowns

"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."

Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.

Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.

If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?

Orion's finials twitch slowly

"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."

Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.

Prowl tilts his head

"You're scared."

Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.

Discolored.

" I am."

Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.

He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."

"But..."

"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"

Prowl nods silently.

Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.

Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.

And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.

He continues to stand by the closed door.

A thought runs obsessively through his mind.

If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.

But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.

Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.

Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.

The idea comes naturally.

Then God must be wrong.

He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.

They are peace and contentment.

They are a clear and simple goal.

Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.

And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....

But Primus can't stop him, can he?

Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.

He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.

He turns around and walks away.

[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Plss do where in ho tricks reader into thinking cum is yogurt *like him making reader suck his cock, after cumming he says its yogurt then reader says "your yogurt tastes weird!.."

You and Young il sat close together during dinner, in your own secluded spot, your back turns to everyone else.

You stuffed your face, still feeling hungry.

“Hey” you pulled at Young il’s sleeve.

“Yeah, (y/n)” he responded eating his own food.

“Im still hungry… I kinda wish they had yogurt, I’d kill for some right now” you say thoughtfully, “oh strawberry yogurt would be my number one option, the. Cotton candy (the gogurt flavor bc that was bomb), or or vanilla green yogurt” you rubbed your stomach lost in the thought of it.

“Yeah… I agree” a wicked idea popped into his mind. He hadn’t had sex or had a chance to cum and make himself feel good in a few days. “Hey, you know, I have yogurt” In Ho says slyly smiling at you.

“You do?” Your eyes light up at the mention of yogurt. “Oh my gosh, how?”

“Well, (y/n), i make it… in my body.” He responds.

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side pensively. “Does everyone make it?”

“No, just me” he answered curtly. He pulls out his cock, giving it a good few strokes as it hardens up. “See, it comes from here” he points at his tip, red and small drips of precut sliding down.

“Oh okay” you say. “So how do I get it?”

“Suck it out” he responds, his eyes dark with lust as he watches your mouth move closer. You put your lips on it, “good girl” he places a gentle hand on the back of your head. Thrusting his hips gently into your mouth.

Young il's eyes were closed, his head tilted back in ecstasy as he felt the warmth of the reader's mouth wrapped around him. He had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity, and now that it was finally here, he was determined to savor every second.

As he began to climax, his body tensed up, his muscles contracting in pleasure. He felt himself being drawn into the reader's mouth, and he let out a low moan as he released, shooting hot cum down the back of your throat. You excitedly drank it up, before realizing it wasn’t all you thought it’d be.

He opened his eyes and looked down at you, he expected to see a look of satisfaction or pleasure. Instead, your face was scrunched up in distaste.

"Your yogurt tastes weird," you told his as he put his cock back into his sweatpants. Young il smiled,

"What?" he asked, pretending as if he didn’t know what you meant.

"I mean, I've had yogurt before, but this is definitely...different." You shrugged. “It tastes alright, but not like yogurt” Young il realized that you thought he had actually given you yogurt to eat. He couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"That's not yogurt," he said, still chuckling.

You looked up at him quizzically. "Oh? Then what is it?"

Young il smiled mischievously. "Oh my sweet, (y/n)" he said, his voice low and husky, caressing your mouth gently, his finger trailing down to your bottom lip. “That’s my cum”

The reader's face turned bright red as she realized her mistake. "Oh,"

Taglist

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @player279achlys @galaxygurlll @whamzou @watasinekoru @angelofthorr @whamzou

[0cta9on]

For The Cameras

Length: +6k words

Genre: Fluff

IVE Gaeul x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, read this post first and then head on over to my ko-fi page!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Somehow, despite this strange man you’ve never met before snaking his hands through your shirt, all you can think about is what you’re going to say to her. Will a simple “hello” suffice? Should you open with an old inside joke? A cliche “long time, no see”? Will she even remember you after all these years?

“Dude,” the strange man mutters, his deadpan eyes staring at you, but not quite looking at you.

“O-oh, sorry. Were you saying something?” you ask nervously.

“I need you to speak into the mic to check if it’s working properly,” he says, pointing at the collar of your shirt.

You peer down and notice a black fuzzy ball sticking out from your collar. If he hadn’t pointed it out to you beforehand, you would have definitely jumped and made yourself look like an even bigger fool than you probably already do. “R-right. Uh, hello? One, two, three, testing?”

He looks back at a man some distance away, fiddling with knobs on a small black box as he listens to your audio through his chunky headphones. A tense moment passes before he flashes a thumbs up in your direction.

“All right, you’re all good,” he utters before walking off without another word, leaving you completely stranded amidst this flurry of chaos. Screaming children running around, the distant rumble of roller coasters, a food stand selling trendy overpriced products every two steps—normal things you would see at an amusement park. What’s not normal is the couple dozen people around you handling all kinds of expensive-looking camera and audio equipment. If you had to bet, the fuzzy little ball clipped to your collar probably costs more than your rent.

You had no idea what you were getting into when you first signed up for that fan event. Winning a chance to film a variety show with a member of IVE seemed too good to be true, but after you found out that you would be filming it with her, entering the event was a no-brainer. By some stroke of luck, you’re now here in the middle of an amusement park, all but abandoned while jolly children’s songs and the incessant beeping of walkie-talkies makes it difficult to hear yourself think.

“Hey you!” A booming voice somehow cuts through all the noise, and you suddenly find yourself face to face with another man you’ve never met before. Unlike everyone else, however, he seems much more relaxed, even happy to be here. Despite his bulging muscles barely contained in his Hawaiian shirt, his steps are lightweight and peppy compared to the scrambling of footsteps of his subordinates, and the wrinkles outlining his wide smile are a testament to his years of experience in… whatever it is that he does.

You let out a sigh of relief as his demeanor puts you at ease in an instant. “Hello, sir,” you greet him.

He forcefully takes your hand into a firm handshake, almost jerking your arm out of its socket. “I’m Mr. Park, I’m the production director of today’s shoot!” he says, his voice loud and boisterous. “You must be our star for today!”

“I-I wouldn’t say that,” you mutter bashfully.

“Nonsense!” he guffaws. “I just wanna give you a quick little rundown of what we’re gonna be filming today. Basically, you’re just gonna go around the amusement park, hang out and talk with the idol, maybe even flirt a bit, y’know, play it up for the cameras.” Mr. Park punctuates his explanation with a hearty chuckle and a friendly elbow to your rib. What a guy.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that—”

Suddenly, he pulls you close, donning a deathly serious expression that sends a chill down your spine. “If you do anything to ruin today’s shoot, I have a six foot hole in the middle of the woods with your name on it, if you catch my drift.”

Before you even have time to process what he said, Mr. Park walks off like nothing happened, his pearly whites gleaming as if he didn’t just threaten to end you moments before. You figured there would be some oddballs in this industry, but you didn’t expect it to be this insane. If things are like this after barely an hour here, you can only imagine what her daily life is like.

“There she is!” You hear Mr. Park’s voice in the distance as a group of burly men all clad in black approaches the set. Judging by their appearance, you can tell that they’re bodyguards, which means the person their protecting is—

“Hello, Mr. Park! It’s nice to see you again!” The two bodyguards at the front part, giving way for Gaeul to walk through and shake hands with Mr. Park. Your breath catches in your throat at the mere sight of her and all the greetings you’ve rehearsed in your head all morning flutter away like butterflies.

You suddenly feel like a little kid again, waiting at her front door so the two of you can go look for frogs or build a castle out of anything you could find in the forest near your houses. Before she was Gaeul, one of the stars of IVE and adored by billions of people around the world, she was simply Gaeul, your best friend that was never afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of adventure. She was the girl that made your world feel a little less lonely.

And yet, despite her being right in front of you for the first time in years, the distance between you has never felt so far.

As Gaeul and Mr. Park approaches you, you inhale a shaky breath, trying your best to calm your nerves.

“...and this gentleman over here,” Mr. Park explains as he gestures towards you, “is the lucky fan who you’ll be spending the day with!”

You catch her eyes, and for a moment, everything around you seems to vanish. You know deep in your gut that it’s her, but she looks so… beautiful. Instead of the oversized hand-me-downs from her brother, she’s wearing clothes that actually fit her properly—a flower top, a pink cardigan, and a frilly black skirt that shows off her legs in a way that baggy cargo shorts never could. Her hair and makeup is perfectly and meticulously done up, you would mistake her for a doll if you walked by her too fast. Every trace of the Gaeul you once knew is gone—except for her eyes and the way they still light up when they meet yours.

“H-hi,” you stutter, extending a trembling hand towards her. “It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”

She pauses, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at your eyes. A smile creeps up on her glossy lips, and then the scent of strawberry shampoo assaults your senses in the most pleasant way possible as she wraps her arms around your neck in a warm embrace.

“It’s nice to see you again, small fry,” she says softly.

In a past life, you would’ve been annoyed by that silly little nickname—it’s not your fault that your growth spurt hit you later than hers did—but hearing it after so long fills you with an immense amount of happiness that you can’t quite describe. She still remembers you.

“Ehem,” Mr. Park clears his throat, reminding you of the involuntary audience witnessing your reunion. With heat racing towards your cheeks, you reluctantly free Gaeul from your arms. “Do, uh, do you two know each other?”

“He was my best friend back in middle school before I became a trainee,” she explains, beaming. ”We were inseparable back then.”

Mr. Park approaches you, his expression growing dark just like it did before. “Kid…” he mumbles, his voice low. Suddenly, he grabs onto your shoulder with a vice-like grip and lifts you off the ground until your legs are dangling helplessly in the air.

“U-uh, Mr. Park? W-what are you—”

“You. Are. A. Godsend!” he exclaims, now back to his cheery self. “This’ll be great for ratings! I can see the headlines now: ‘IVE’s Gaeul reunites with childhood friend after he wins a fan event!’ If I wasn’t happily married to my wife of seven years, I would kiss you right now!” Finally, he drops you back on your feet and hurriedly struts away, yelling at the staff members. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks! Time is money and I don’t wanna lose a single penny!”

Gaeul pats your shoulder, not even trying to stifle a laugh at your bewildered expression. “Are you alright? Mr. Park has a few screws loose, but I promise you he’s nice.”

Her touch immediately puts you at ease as you let out a chuckle of your own. “Well, my dignity is at an all time low, but what’s new?”

If you had to embarrass yourself in front of a member of IVE, at least it’s the one that’s already seen you at your absolute worst. Like no time has passed at all, the two of you slip back into comfortable patterns of banter. There’s so much you want to tell her. Milestones she missed, horrific first dates, and a plethora of other Gaeul-less memories that you know she’ll tease you for.

“I still can’t believe it’s you, small fry,” she says. “You look great.”

“I’m not sure if you can call me that anymore,” you playfully shoot back. Getting your growth spurt before she went off to be an idol would’ve saved you a childhood of torment by her hand, but hey, better late than never.

“Oh whatever, I’ll call you whatever I damn want to.”

With a smirk, she walks off as Mr. Park calls on the two of you to get ready for filming. You always imagined your reunion to be a little more peaceful, maybe on a random chilly evening at a coffee shop, but the specifics don’t matter to you. What matters is that Gaeul is finally here, right in front of you.

You can finally do what you failed to do back in middle school.

______________________________________________________________

You’re wise enough to know that not everything you see on these kinds of shows is real, but you never realized just how scripted it all is. From the activities you do to the things you say, you feel more like a robot following commands than a regular person spending the day at an amusement park. Gaeul takes everything in stride, seemingly used to this kind of environment, but not having the freedom to properly speak to Gaeul leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

“Listen up, you two!” Mr. Park calls out from behind the camera. “You’re gonna look through the gift shop, try some things on, give a few compliments, big reactions y’know, really play it up for the camera and whatnot. Oh, and Gaeul?”

“Yes?” She tilts her head.

“Keep calling him that little nickname, uh ‘teeny fry’ or whatever it is.”

She cracks a little smirk in your direction. “Sure thing, Mr. Park.”

You sigh, masking your dismay with a neutral expression. “Why are we going to the gift shop first? Isn’t this what people do last?” you ask Gaeul.

She responds with a simple shrug. “I’ve learned not to question things and just go with the flow.”

“Huh?” You dramatically gasp in faux shock. “Are you sure you’re the Gaeul I know? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you annoying the substitute teacher with questions about frogs until they stormed out in the middle of class.”

“That’s different!” she exclaims. “Besides, that was so long ago, I’m basically a different person now.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You actually dress like a girl now.”

“Oh my god, don’t even remind me!” Her cheeks turn a cherry red as memories of her tragic middle school fashion choices come back to haunt her. “It’s a miracle that I even got casted in the first place looking like that.”

You let out a laugh. “You look good now though. Seriously.”

“Just good?” Gaeul says, offended. She steps back and gives you a little twirl, showcasing her entire outfit in all its glory. “Last time you saw me, I was wearing my brother’s old cargo shorts, and you’re telling me that I only look good?!”

“I-I didn’t— I mean…” There’s so many things you want to say, words and phrases rehearsed over years of imagining what your reunion would be like. Finally, you have the opportunity to say it out loud to her face. So just say it.

“Y-you look bea—”

“ALRIGHT, PLACES EVERYBODY!!!’ Mr. Park shouts. Before you can finish your thought, Gaeul hurries to her spot where the director told the two of you to start. You shake your head, coming to your senses and following her to your spot. Not great timing, but there will be other chances later.

Once the cameras start rolling, the two of you enter the gift shop, looking around at all the overpriced products the shop has to offer. T-shirts, headbands, hats, mini figurines of the amusement park’s mascot, just about anything a child could want and a parent would dread to buy. Like Mr. Park instructed, you do your best to give off big reactions, but frankly, this place is the least exciting part about going to an amusement park. Gaeul, on the other hand, plays it off like a true professional.

“Wow, look at this place!” she exclaims, her voice an octave higher than her regular speaking voice. “Oh my gosh, everything is so cute!”

“Y-yeah, wow! So cute!” you awkwardly parrot. Thankfully, the cameras are mainly following Gaeul, so your poor attempts at acting go unnoticed by the crew.

Gaeul takes one of the shirts off the hangers and puts it to your chest. “What do you think about this shirt, small fry? I’ll buy it for you if you want!” she says, punctuating her statement with a wink.

You chuckle in an attempt to hide the heat creeping up your face. “I’d rather launch myself into the sun than wear that ugly shirt,” you quip.

“CUT!” Mr. Park barks. “Hey kid, the park is allowing us to film here for a discounted fee, so maybe don’t talk bad about their merchandise.”

“A-ah… Right, sorry…”

Gaeul stifles a chuckle, putting the shirt back on the hanger. “It’s okay, they can just edit that part out,” she says in an attempt to console you. Unlike seconds before, her voice is back down to her usual tone.

“Uh, why are you doing that thing with your voice?” you ask.

“What thing?” She stares at you with a curious expression, one that holds not even a hint of joking.

“Uh… Nevermind.” Like she said, learn not to question things.

“Alright, let’s try this again, without the sass this time,” Mr. Park says, gesturing specifically to you. “Action!”

In an instant, Gaeul springs back into her idol persona, cheerfully skipping through each aisle and pointing out every little thing. “I wish I could buy everything in the store!”

“You probably could with your net worth,” you instinctively joke. Remembering what happened before, your eyes peer carefully towards Mr. Park, who thankfully smirks at your little jest. Relieved, you decide to do what he said before and try some “flirting”.

You grab a frog headband from one of the shelves and hand it to Gaeul. “Why don’t you try this on? I think it would look cute on you.” Something about talking to her this way leaves an odd, warm feeling in your stomach. Not bad, per se, but different.

She takes the headband from you and tries it on. “What do you think, small fry?” she asks, posing more for the cameras than for you. “Am I stealing your heart with this look? 

A rush of heat floods your head at her idol fan service. It’s not the first time you’ve seen her do this kind of thing, but there’s a huge difference in seeing it through a screen and seeing it in person, directed right at you. You thought you would cringe or laugh, but you’re not even sure how to react anymore with the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“U-uh, sure, yeah, whatever…” you mutter. You expected a witty comeback from her, poking fun at your barely coherent mumblings, but instead, you feel Gaeul’s arm link with yours as she pulls you towards one of the mirrors hanging on the walls. In all the confusion, she somehow managed to put a dog headband on your head.

“Ah, we look so cute!” she exclaims, her high-pitched voice ringing in your ears. 

You stare back at the reflection, forgetting all about the cameras as you take in every single detail. Gaeul linking her arms with yours, smiling at you with that silly little frog headband on. It’s almost as if you’re looking into a portal to an alternate universe where Gaeul never moved away. Where the two of you ended up as a… couple.

That warm feeling fills your stomach at the thought—but this time, it’s mixed with guilt. Gaeul never accomplished her dreams in that universe, and for what? Sure, you get more time with her and grow up alongside her, but she doesn’t become that big star that she always dreamed about being. There’s no point in clinging onto “what if’s”. Life played out like this and now you have to accept it.

“Hey.” Gaeul nudges your side, her voice back down to its usual octave. Her eyes gaze at you with worry. “You alright? Mr. Park yelled ‘cut’ a minute ago.”

You shake your head, ridding yourself of stray thoughts. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Being in front of cameras has got me a little nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re doing great. Nice job playing it up for the cameras,” she compliments before walking off to the next filming location.

Yeah… Just for the cameras…

______________________________________________________________

The ferris wheel stands high and mighty, casting long shadows on the park grounds. It is the quintessential amusement park ride that everyone loves, including you. Stuck in a small, cramped box high in the sky, with a perfect view of the setting sun, it’s all so… romantic.

Scratch that thought from your mind. You’re not here for any ulterior motives other than filming this show and catching up with an old friend. That’s it. Nothing else. 

“So, obviously we can’t fit an entire camera crew in one of those boxes, so we went ahead and fitted it with some cameras and mics to properly capture everything,” Mr. Park explains to you and Gaeul. “Just do what I said—act natural, big reactions—and everything should be smooth sailing from here.” Sounds contradictory, but you’re not about to talk back to a guy that threatened to bury you deep in the woods.

After he finishes explaining, the ride attendant helps you and Gaeul into the ride, and you begin your ascent into the sky. It feels like cruel irony, finally getting the chance to spend alone time with Gaeul, but not actually getting to spend alone time with her.

With a sigh, you muster up the biggest fake smile you can and start to act. “Wow, ferris wheels are so fun, I can’t wait to—”

“You can drop the act now,” Gaeul chuckles.

Your head tilts in curiosity. “What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Park say that—”

“I convinced some of the crew to turn off the cameras this time around,” she explains. “We’ll have to ride again and play up the reactions, but for this time at least, we can just talk.”

You let out a sigh of relief and slump back into your seat. Finally. “Thank God for your influence, I don’t know if I could keep up the acting.” She smiles, mimicking your movements and lazing against the seat across from you. “Yeah, that’s probably one of the things I like least about this job.”

“Man, it must be tiring putting on a mask every single day for the cameras.”

She shrugs. “It could be worse. At least I get to do this with you, small fry.” Gaeul flashes a bright smile at you, and unlike the smile she dons while the cameras are rolling, you can feel the genuine warmth travel from across the booth. “So, have you been after all this time? I’m sure you have a bunch of stories from the years we’ve been apart.”

“So many,” you reply. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about high school? I never got to properly experience it for myself, y’know.”

“Right, wow, okay.” You sit up, barely able to contain your excitement at the chance to properly talk about things with her. “So, freshman year, I—”

“Is that the first one?”

“Yeah, it’s the first one,” you answer, chuckling at her curious expression. “So, freshman year, it’s a new school, whole bunch of new people, and obviously you weren’t around anymore, so I decided to join a school club.”

“Wow, really? You were basically attached to my hip all throughout middle school, I never thought you’d actually go out of your way to join a club,” she teases. “What club was it?”

“It was, uh…” You clear your throat, suddenly feeling very embarrassed under her gaze. “...the esports club.” You brace yourself for the incoming barrage of mockery and laughter, but instead, you’re met with Gaeul’s eyes brightening with awe.

“That makes so much sense, you always were good at video games!” she compliments. “How was it, were you any good?”

With your ego now inflated, you smirk and cross your arms. “Not to brag, but I did carry my team to 2nd place of the state championships,” you boast.

“Hey, that’s amazing!”

You can hear it in her voice, plain as day, that there’s not a hint of sarcasm or malice behind her words—she’s genuinely impressed by your silly little esports accolades. Being part of that club did little to boost your popularity and only served to make you the target of some bullying, but it was also some of your most cherished memories from high school. When you felt lost navigating that new environment without Gaeul, that club was the only thing keeping you together.

“Oh, I have to ask—what were school dances like?” Gaeul inquires, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

You let out a heavy sigh as you think about all the bad experiences at each school dance. If the esports club was the highest high of your high school days, then school dances were your lowest lows.

“They were… not great. For me, at least. I was probably an outlier for that kind of thing,” you mutter, sinking back into your seat as the weight of those awful experiences pulls you down.

“Oh… sorry,” Gaeul says, your gaze drifting to the side. “Why, did you have a bad date or something?”

“I had no date, Gaeul. I was in the esports club,” you clarify. “Besides, I never bothered trying to ask out a girl during high school anyways.”

“Why not? You’re a nice guy, I’m sure any girl would’ve been lucky to go out with you!” she exclaims.

You chuckle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to ask to a school dance.”

“Really? Not a single person you had a crush on?” She leans into you with curiosity, not realizing the proximity of your faces. You can see every single detail of the visage that you grew up with, analyzing how much has changed and yet still stayed the same. Those big, round eyes that light up when you mention frogs or crack a clever joke. The puff of her cheeks every time  she tries—and fails—to hold in a laugh. The curve of her pretty lips whenever she calls you “small fry”. Remnants of your childhood together, still visible on the face you haven’t stopped thinking about ever since she left.

You lean back in your seat, the lack of space becoming too overwhelming. “I-I, um…”

“Aha! You did have a crush on someone!” she shouts excitedly. “Who was it? You better tell me their name, or else!”

“U-uh, h-her name? Um… Uh… A-autumn,” you sputter out nervously, too frazzled to think straight. Great job, you idiot. ‘Autumn”? Now she’s gonna know that you have a crush on—

“What a pretty name! Was she cute?”

“Huh?” Dumbfounded, you decide to take it and roll with it. “Uh, I mean, yeah, she was cute.”

“What was she like?”

“She was…” You pause, collecting your thoughts. The ferris wheel nears its peak as rays of sunset peek through the window, lighting up your carriage with an evening glow. “She was unimaginably amazing. She was strong and confident and determined and never let anyone’s words affect her. Whatever she wanted to accomplish, she could do it and make it look easy. She was also incredibly kind and hilarious and curious about the world around her, always asking questions with this admirable crave for more knowledge. And she was…”

At last, your carriage is lifted to the highest point of the ferris wheel. Like a spotlight, the setting sun projects the last of its light onto Gaeul’s face, illuminating her like the star that she was born to be. Mother nature paints her with the most beautiful shades of golden brown, casting an aura that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“...she’s beautiful.”

“Wow,” Gaeul breathes. The light from the sunset fades as it falls behind the horizon, yet Gaeul continues to glow with an aura that only you can see. “You must have really liked her, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I did…” you utter softly. “...but it was never gonna work out. She had big things planned, and I was always too nervous to ask her out anyways, so… it’s whatever.”

“That sucks.” She leans her head against the window and takes a deep breath. The excitement she held in her expression earlier disappears, revealing something more real, more vulnerable. “I’m actually kinda jealous of you, y’know.”

“Really? Why?”

She sighs. “I never got to experience any of that for myself—clubs, dances, crushes… all of it. Once I became a trainee, every single day was dedicated to training, with barely any time for fun or enjoyment or a social life. Some days, we’d barely even have time to eat or sleep.”

You always saw Gaeul as this bright ball of energy, even when she was on your screen as IVE’s Gaeul. To see her like this is something else entirely.

“When things were the hardest, I’d think about you,” she says, a melancholic grin growing on her lips. “I’d think about all the fun adventures we had and imagine all the new adventures we could’ve had. I wondered what you were doing, if you were even thinking about me…”

Every single day.

“I’d pray that when I wake up the next morning, I would be back in my old bedroom and you would be waiting outside my door like you always did, and then we’d run off to the forest and do whatever we wanted. No expectations, no late nights, just pure freedom.”

The urge to comfort her makes your heart ache. You want to hold her in your arms and tell her what you really feel. Tell her that the day she left was the day that your entire world came crashing down. Tell her to take your hand and run away with you, live the life that you’ve been dreaming of since you were kids. Tell her how much she means to you and that you never want to be away from her again.

But you don’t. You bite your tongue, suppressing all the feelings threatening to bubble up. She worked hard to get where she is, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the dream she’s been talking about since the two of you were kids. You’re not going to ruin that for her just for your own selfish reasons.

“On the bright side, look where you are now!” you say in an attempt to cheer her up. “World famous Kpop star, loved by billions all over the world. A-and I turned out okay too, so, y’know… Everything is good.” Despite your attempt to sound cheerful, the weight of your true feelings seeps into your words. The carriage fills with a heavy tension that hangs in the air.

“Yeah,” she mutters, her gaze falling to the darkening scenery outside. “Everything is just… great.”

______________________________________________________________

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LAST SCENE OF THE DAY! AFTER THE TEST RUN, WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE, SO LET’S MAKE IT COUNT!” Mr. Park yells, his voice the epicenter of all the commotion.

After a couple more hours of rides and other attractions, it was time to finish filming the final part of the episode, the fireworks show. For the most part, the last couple hours of filming went smoothly, aside from the fact that Gaeul wouldn’t talk to you when the cameras weren’t rolling. The shift from her idol persona back to her regular self was eerie enough already, but seeing all that faux joy disappear the second Mr. Park yelled “cut” filled you with an all-new kind of dread. Is this it? Are you just going to finish filming and leave things like this, without knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to see her again?

You spot her in the distance, getting her makeup touched up by her makeup artist. The sea of frantic staff members never seems to end, but you push through anyway, determined to patch things up before the night ends.

“Gaeul!” you call out to her. “Can we ta—”

Her brick wall of a bodyguard stops you in your tracks with a firm grip on your shoulder.

“Ms. Gaeul would like to be left alone.”

“I just need to—Ah!” His grip tightens on your shoulder until you feel like it’s about to be ripped from its socket.

“I said, she wants to be left alone.”

You huff in frustration. “Look man, my best friend in the whole entire world is upset with me right now and I need to fix this, so would you please cut me some slack and let me talk to her for five fucking minutes!?” Despite the pain in your shoulder becoming borderline unbearable, you muster up the most threatening look you can. Thankfully, his grip on you loosens and your arm somehow doesn’t pop off from your body. Did he actually get scared by the look you gave him?

“It’s okay, Mr. Kim,” Gaeul says, walking out from behind him. Go figure. “I got it.”

Her bodyguard backs off, giving the two of you some space to talk. “Thanks, I was worried Mr. Park would have to CGI me a new arm,” you joke, trying to ease the tension. Gaeul’s lips curl slightly into a grin as she shakes her head at your dumb joke. It’s not much, but it’s progress. “Can we talk—”

“Follow me.” She walks off without another word, away from the filming location. Not wanting to get on her bad side again, you follow her in silence.

Gaeul leads you through the bustling crowds, down a narrow, unlit pathway tucked between two food stalls. The sounds of the park grow fainter with each step until all you can hear is your own breathing and the echo of your footsteps. As long as you’re able to clear the air with her, it doesn’t matter where she takes you. You’d gladly walk all the way to the ends of the Earth if it means you won’t part on bad terms.

Finally, Gaeul stops at a small, secluded lookout point. A sturdy railing, its paint chipped from years of wear and tear, stretches across the edge of the platform, offering a view of the whole amusement park below.

“Back when we were trainees, the company let us visit this exact amusement park as a reward for doing well on a monthly evaluation,” Gaeul explains, leaning against the railing. “We ended up finding this quiet little area. It gives the best view of the fireworks show.”

You take your spot next to her and look out at the park below. Multicolored lights dance freely in the night sky to the unpredictable tune of the park goers’ joyous screams. You can’t help but grin at the thought of a younger Gaeul being able to relive a piece of her childhood that she missed out on.

“It must have been a lot of fun,” you say.

“I wouldn’t really know.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” 

A pensive escapes her lips into the open air. “I mean, it was fun, but… I just couldn’t stop looking for your face in every person we passed by.”

“Oh.”

“While the others were watching the fireworks, I was looking down at the crowd, hoping that I could see you again.”

“I-I, uh… I’m sorry, Gaeul—”

She lets out a hollow snicker, the sound barely carrying any amusement—just exhaustion. “What do you have to be sorry for? I should be the one apologizing. Back in the ferris wheel, when you said that ‘everything is good’, I just… I don’t know, I just broke down. Hearing you say that made me feel like you… forgot about me.”

“Hey,” you utter gently, placing your hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; you’re my best friend, Gaeul. I would never forget about you. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”

She turns to you, a cute pout on her lips and her eyes glistening with tears. “Really?”

“Of course, dummy,” you chuckle. “And it’s kinda hard to forget you when I see you literally everywhere.”

Gaeul rests her head on your shoulder, her chest rising and falling with gentle laughter. “I’m sorry for being an idiot and ignoring you all day, small fry.”

Tentatively, you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I was able to talk to you before the day ended.” You feel her snuggle into your side, the warmth from her body a thousand times better than you could ever imagine it. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, screaming at you to say something.

You gulp in an attempt to quell your nerves. “A-actually, I’ve also, uh, been an idiot today. There’s something I need to tell you that I should’ve told you earlier.”

She shifts to look up at you, her eyes beaming like stars in the night sky. “What is it?”

“I-I, um… Gaeul, I—”

A ball of fire shoots upwards into the sky and bursts into a sparkling flurry of bright red. More follow soon after, whizzing past and painting the indigo sky with an array of colors. Gaeul excitedly climbs up the railing to get a better view, her expression filling up with a joy more genuine than any reaction she showed in front of the cameras. 

Your heart aches as you look up at her—you love her. You love her so much that you want to scream it from the top of your lungs until your voice grows hoarse. Today could be the last time you ever see her. You need to tell her. Forget about all the consequences and just say it.

Gaeul turns to look down at you, a smirk playing on her lips. “This angle seems a bit familiar, don’t you think?” she teases, ruffling your hair. The chilly night air enters your lungs. Every color of the rainbow reflects against her perfect skin. All caution is thrown to the wind.

You push yourself onto your tippy toes and press your lips against hers.

The kiss couldn’t have been more than a second, just a mere peck, but the feeling still lingers on your lips like electricity. A long moment passes with nothing but the crackling of fireworks filling the space between you. The overwhelming heat against your cheeks makes it nearly impossible to make out her reaction. Is she disgusted? Upset? Angry?

Yet, all of your worries melt away as Gaeul falls into your arms, capturing your lips in hers once again. Years of pining and waiting, watching her fancams until the ungodly hours of the night, showing support for her in any way you can without ever knowing if she’ll notice your efforts, all of it culminates into that sweet, tender kiss. Tomorrow brings a plethora of unknown challenges, but all that matters is right now, in each other’s arms where you’ve been dying to be.

You break the kiss for a moment, a truth you’ve been waiting to release resting on your tongue. “Gaeul, I love you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, her voice light and airy. “I love you too, small fry. So, so, so much.”

Your lips break into a smile so wide your cheeks start to ache. “Not that I’m complaining, but how did you know—”

“Autumn? Really?” she teases, her hands cupping your cheek. “You might as well have confessed to me in that ferris wheel.”

You sink your face into her touch, treasuring every second of warmth. “I wish I did. Maybe then we would’ve had more time to be like this before we have to say goodbye.”

“I’m never, ever leaving your side again, you hear me? The company will just have to deal with it.”

You let yourself get lost in her lips once again, with no intention of ever finding your way back. The road ahead will no doubt be filled with hardships and uncertainties, but there’s no one else you would rather start this adventure with than the girl that made your world a little less lonely. 

[ifwdominicfike]

record store date with guitarist!matt and girly girl!reader !!

── .✦. ──

“oh my- matt look, look, they have bea here!!” you gasp and scurry over to pop album section, matt looks up and finds you picking up multiple records at a time. he laughs and makes his way over to you. “my love, let me see those, y’gonna drop em” he takes the stack from your hands and shuffles through them. “really? don’t you already have like her whole discography?” he squints his eyes at you while holding up a different variant of a taylor swift album “yeahh but come on, it’s pink!!” you say showing him the 1989 vinyl with a big smile.

“you’ll get anything pink huh?” he teases, nudging at your side, making you giggle. “shut up, its adorable it’ll go great with my room, don’t you think..?” your cheeks starting to hurt from the amount giggles and smiling.

“oooh they even have clairo!! look our favorite!!” you say picking up the cover labeled ‘charm’. ever since it had came out, you and matt have been listening to it nonstop. “sweetheart you’re killing me here — im already holding what? six- seven records here” he says chuckling. “ok ok fine i guess im okay for now — but i don’t promise anything when we go to that antique store, the second i see anything bunny related, its mine.” your finger pointing at him, which meaning your ‘serious’.

you had decided to slip the records inside your tote bag, saving matt the sore arms and red marks scattered across them. after that he drags you over to the section he’s been waiting to visit, the scattered albums going from ‘mac miller’ all the way down to ‘the smashing pumpkins’. this was basically matts heaven — his excited eyes scanning over everything like a kid on christmas.

he picks up a record labeled ‘siamese dream’ by none other than the smashing pumpkins, easily one of matts favorite bands. you had only know about that album because he had mentioned a song called luna on there reminded him of you. before you could ask him something else he’s already picking up another record, this time being ‘kiss me kiss me kiss me’ by ‘the cure’ which was another favorite, matt had even dedicated the song ‘heaven’ from that album to you.

twenty more minutes had gone by and matt was close to buying damn near that entire shelf, but ended up leaving with four vinyls and a big bright smile on his face. “matt i can’t believe you spent almost 150 dollars for all of this! i could’ve paid for myself you kn-“ he cuts off with a gentle hand over your mouth. “nuh uh — none of that hun, m’treating my beautiful girlfriend because she deserves it, yeah?”

your face turns bright pink at his praise as you sarcastically roll your eyes at him. “fuck i love you so much” you pull him into a kiss, leaving crimson red smeared across his lips. you giggle as you motion to his mouth. “y-you got a little something..” he wasn’t really paying attention so he hadn’t heard you. “i have what?” he asks obliviously. “you know what.. its nothing! now onto that antique store right??”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i feel like its been so long since i posted a fic.. im so sorry i’ve literally just been lazy and avoiding my drafts 😭😭, but here’s some adorable guitarist!matt and girly!reader for you!!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @http-bellaa @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott @cherrynflowergarden @sturnsmia @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @chaossturns @emely9274 @sturn777 @sturns-mermaid @st7rnioioss @whore4mattsturniolo @courta13

[just-some-random-blogger]

LKAHSFL'H I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT REBLOGGED THIS YET LAKSFHLKASHFL'HASFHASF ASF YOU MUST FORGIVE ME I DONT WANT TO CLOG THE DASH WITH A REBLOG OF THE SAME CHAPTER YA FEEL ILY ILY

first of all, almost crying during a nail appointment is honestly such iconic behavior HAHAHHAHAHHAH LOLOLOL. im kinda sad you stopped reading ): you should have cried during the nail appointment AHHAHAHAHAHAH LOLOLOL JK

CARGYLL TWIN SCREENTIME GO BRRRRRRRRRR RAHHHH. i would never take erryk or arryk for that matter from you <3 I WISH THEY HAD MORE SCREEN TIME IN THE SHOW FR THEY FUCKING KILLED THEM AND TRAUMATIZED ME AND FOR WHAT???????????

and viserys yeah 😬😬😬 T_T i love making people have sympathy for him even when hes disgusting 😁 because thats the whole point of this story (: i love my barbies. i wish him a very much rot

STARK OBESSION GO BRRR. tumblr notified me you posted something and I RAN COS I THOUGHT IT WAS AN UPDATE but it was just a reblog of your fic 🙄 WHICH IS FINE AND IM NOT PRESSURING YOU AT ALL TO UPDATE. job and robb are hot fr but i wanted benjen THEN THEY FUCKING OFFED HIM 🤬 also HE PROBABLY HAS ONE HAS ME GAGGED.

[...] Older me can now see Ned's appeal too. He probably has one, with how much Catelyn loved having his babies)

I WAS ABOUT TO ASK 'HAS WHAT' then i realized you mean APPEAL T_T he probably has APPEAL T_T CRYINNNGGGGGGGG. i cant help but think about all the boromir memes (cuz you know sean bean) and how his dad would react to this MY SON HAS APPEAL 🤬 HAHAHAHAH LMAO. honestly, i feel catelyn. if i was married to a stark id have 10000 babies too AHHAHA LOL

The scene where she lost the babies hurt me physically. I now get what you said and why you laughed when I hoped the baby was valyrian to spare her the pain, you cruel, cruel woman.

its ok i love you

DAEMON GROVEL ERA IS A NEED. dont worry about spam liking i love it when that happens

[...] making Viserys and Alicent's marriage be all about him [...]

YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE SO RIGHT. HE THINKS HES THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE FR OMLLL UGHHH EWW

HERES TO HIM BEING JEALOUS AND SUFFERING FOREVER FOR LIFE

ALSO MY GEORGE FIC WEEE I THINK IT WAS REALLY CUTE! i was honestly gagged that i struggled to write fluff 💀 all because of this series 😀 BUT THENI GOT MY GROOVE AND IM MAKING A GEORGE ANGST NOW BECAUSE IM INSANE HAHAHHA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[skzhua]

episode 2.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 4.1k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings, jealousy.

summary: while kitty explores her bi awakening, you try to navigate how to deal with being friends with min ho again, and it's not quite how you'd like it to be. especially not when stella is around.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"My world got so much bigger because of you and because of Simon," Kitty read as you and Q laid in her bed, as if she was reading bedtime stories to you both. "Jina has to know something about Simon. Why else would my mom mention him in her letter?"

"Yuri emailed her mom," you pointed out.

"Yeah, but Jina's at some wellness retreat and doesn't have any service," she sighed before grunting. "It is killing me to be this close to finding the guy that my mom was so in love with that she moved here against her parents' wishes..."

She kept on rambling on about her frustrations and wonders, meanwhile Q was attempting to make sense out of it. As for you, you couldn't focus much. Eyes on the phone, you were still hoping someone would text you any moment now. You got up from Kitty's bed and dropped yourself on yours, letting out a whine in the process.

"Y/N, stop thinking about it," Q said.

You shook your head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kitty hummed. "So there is somebody more dramatic than me!"

You all heard laughs coming from the other room, and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"I guess Yuri and Juliana are still in their honeymoon phase, uh?" Q commented.

"They're always tickle-fighting!" Kitty exclaimed, a fake smile plastered on her face. "We basically have to tear them apart for curfew checks so the RA doesn't figure out they're a couple."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Oh, not at all! Their squeals of joy act as a helpful reminder for me to stay focus on my goals. It'll get rid of this silly little crush-"

Her alarm went off went off and she sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You forced yourself to get your butt up and yell "Okay, guys, break it up! Ten minutes until curfew check!"

"Thanks, Y/N!" they yelled back.

The three of you got out the room to lead Q out the door, only to be welcomed with the sight of Yuri and Juliana cuddling. While you were so happy for your friend, you couldn't help but feel bad for Kitty. I mean, you were pretty much in the same situation.

"You're really going to subject yourself to an entire semester of that?" Q asked.

"You know what they say," Kitty responded. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

Unconvinced, he nodded. "Right. Something's telling me this is just killing you, though, so... Good night!" he waved at you both before walking out the door.

"Girls!" Yuri called out as soon as the door closed. "You're always hiding out in your room, come hang out with us!"

"Yeah, come distract us," Juliana added. "Otherwise, an RA might walk in and catch us making out."

"Oh," Yuri said in a teasing voice.

"Sure," Kitty responded, uncomfortable.

The couple began to tease each other with jokes and stuff, making you both even more uncomfortable. They ended up deciding to hide in their bedroom, and so did you in yours. Assuming Kitty would follow, you let the door open. When you noticed she wasn't coming with you, you turned on your heels to head back to stopped yourself as soon as you heard Yuri's voice. You were never the kind to eavesdrop, doing it a little wouldn't be so bad, right?

"What about you? You going to bed?" Yuri asked.

"Soon," your friend replied. "Y/N and I are just going to wait for Stella to get home. She's on her big date with Min Ho."

Your heart tightened as a short silence fell between your friends.

Yuri was the one to break it. "I don't know why Y/N gave her his number."

"Well, she was pretty mad at him. Maybe it's her way to move on."

"But they were getting on so well at the barbecue the other night. I'm sure I even saw a spark between them."

"You heard Y/N, though. He did some fucked up shit."

They were right. Why did you give her his number if you were hoping so bad he'd text you, telling you how boring she was and how he wished you were there to save him?

That text never came.

Chores. That was your punishment for staying with the boys last semester. In the end, you were also discovered to be one of the roommates, hency why you were mopping around a classroom with the whole gang: Dae, Q, Kitty... and Min Ho, of course. So far, avoiding Min Ho had been going pretty well. You caught up on a lot of stuff with Dae, such as how he had been dealing with the break up and how things were going at his place. You did manage to get your mind away from your problems for a short amount of time. It was also a good reminder that Dae was an excellent friend.

"You're avoiding him," he nodded his head towards Min Ho.

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"He really does feel bad about your argument."

You let a breath out. "I know that you're trying to ease things between us, and I appreciate it. But I want to heal in my own way first."

He smiled apologetically. "I get it."

And as if the world was doing everything in its power to make your life miserable, the man in question decided to mop right at your feet. And as to make any worse, the guy was intentionally poking your feet every two seconds. While you glared at him as a sign to stop, he could only smile lightly, and do it again. The silent interaction went on for a few minutes, until he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention.

"I'm just not that into Stella."

Your eyes grew bigger. "Pardon me?"

"I mean, she's cute. Don't get me wrong. But, maybe she's a bit too nice?"

You scoffed. "Is this where you're the playboy wanting to corrupt the good girl, and you're just mad because you're not getting anywhere with her?"

He threw his head back, letting a laugh out. "Please, I already did that with you." Instant blush. "I just think she's boring. Why are you so focused on my love life anyway, pup?"

It took everything in you to not let it show you were hearing exactly what you wanted to hear. "You tell me, you're the one who brought it up. But to answer your question, I'm not," you faked his accent.

"I actually miss the two of you bickering like this," Dae commented, reminding you he had been there the entire time.

"Am I still the only one who's irritated by her?" Min Ho groaned. "It's her and Covey's fault that we're cleaning the building for my dad's vanity project."

Q chuckled. "Guys, there could be way worse punishments. Like your dad forcing everyone to take one of his arts electives. Except for me! Your boy got an exemption. The star of KISS' track team needs to focus on getting gold at regionals."

"I'm taking Entertainment Management," Kitty informed.

"Yeah, same. Kind of sounds interesting," you affirmed.

"Me too," Min Ho said as he winked at you, making you blush again. "It's the only one without singing or dancing."

"I signed up for Advanced Voice," Dae informed casually.

Kitty turned around slowly, doubt on her face. "You sing? How did I not know this?"

"Because we were long-distance, and it's weird to serenade someone over the phone."

"I think we should hear something," Q encouraged as the four of you positioned yourself to be his audience.

"Now, like, here?"

"No, next year," Q joked.

"Yes," you and Min Ho said in unison.

"I wanna hear it," Q said.

"Yes, right now," Kitty rushed him.

In an instant, Dae jumped on top of a desk amd began to sing his heart out. Frankly, it was one of the prettiest voices you've heard. If this was his hidden talent, who knew what else he was capable of? The fun was cut short once Principal Lee walked in the room, visibly bothered byt the concert.

"This is a punishment for secretly living with Ms. Covey and Ms. Park last semester." At the sound, you straightened your posture, now face to face with the principal. "No fun!"

The moment you thought you were done for, Min Ho's father walked in with some of his employees following behind. You exchanged glances with Min Ho, who shrugged as to show he was as perplexed as you were.

"Okay, kids, you're dismissed. My cleaning crew will take care of it," Mr. Moon announced, Principal Lee shaking his head in disapproval.

"Wait, you can't overrule me on student matters."

"Renovations must begin today to stay on schedule, unless you also want my donation delayed."

Mr. Lee paused before his shoulders dropped in defeat. "Students, you're dismissed. For today."

The adults left one after the other until only the five of you were left in the room once again. It was a matter of seconds before you exploded in laughter, feeling somewhat relieved as well.

"I have never seen anyone talk to Professor Lee like that," Dae commented.

"I mean, he kind of ate," Q added.

Kitty squealed. "Mr. Moon forever!"

Min Ho let out a chuckle before he went on to gather the cleaning materials. You grabbed some yourself and left with him to put them back where they belong. You wanted to speak, say something. Only, nothing came to your mind that was slightly interesting. Even less after learning he had close to no interest in Stella. For the few eye contacts you had, small smiles were exchanged. But again, nothing more.

As your aunt told you, you stopped by her office before going to your Entertainment Management class. While you were having a harsh return, you did realize you hadn't visited her since school started. Knocking at her office's door, she immediately yelled for you to come in. As you stepped in, you immediately noticed the bags beneath her eyes.

"Are you killing yourself with work again?"

She might have looked exhausted, but she didn't let it stop her from laughing at your comment. "I'm trying to slow down, but you know me. And with Jina gone, things are working out differently this semester."

"Tell me about it... The curfew checks are getting annoying."

She nodded, and then picked a letter up. "I'm glad you came. I wanted to show this to you."

You took the piece of paper from her before reading the information on it. Frowning, you held it up to her again. "It's not addressed to me, it's for you."

"I know, but it's from your father. While cleaning this week, I rediscovered it and thought you might want to have a look at it."

Your expression softened and you took her hand, grateful. "Thank you. Anyway, I just wanted to see you a bit and let you know that things are settling down."

"I'm glad. Have you seen Min Ho? Seriously, that guy is handsome! What a shame it had to end."

You rolled your eyes. "And that is my cue to leave for class."

You could hear her from behind as you left as she was trying to either apologize or reinforce her point. Either way, you were far too gone to hear any of it, and you went to join Kitty at the cafeteria. Phone in her hands, she was trying to contact another retreat center in hopes Jina would be there. You started to walk and she mindlessly followed, phone now glued to her ear. They didn't answer until you reached class.

"Hey, could you connect me to Jina Lim's room? She's a guest at your resort," she spoke but her disappointed look was all it took for you to understand the call went nowhere. "Oh, my mistake. She must be staying at another property. Thank you."

As she hung up, you patted her shoulder. "You'll get a hold of her. Want me to ask Yuri?"

She groaned. "I did already, but she can't even reach her mom herself, so I guess it makes sense I'm not getting anywhere."

As you scanned the room to find a seat, your eyes landed on Stella, who just happened to be sitting next to Min Ho. The class you were almost excited to attend was now definitely the one you'd hate the most. Still, Min Ho gestured the seat next to him so you allowed yourself to take the spot, and Kitty sat on your other side.

"Hey, do you know who our teacher is?" she asked the pair.

"I'm just glad I won't have to perform. I'm still scared from playinh the donkey in m church's Nativity play," Stella replied. "But I'm guessing, you know, with your dad, you'll have a record deal, blockbuster movie out soon?"

You could only roll your eyes — though you did it mentally. She didn't know him, and it showed. Your inner comments were confirmed as soon as Min Ho opened his mouth.

"Yeah, not my thing."

"Imagine," you said in an ironic tone, making him chuckle lightly.

The door finally opened, revealing who your teacher would be. You were unsurprised to see Mr. Moon step in, as flamboyant as ever.

"Good afternoon," he greeted.

Min Ho' glanced at him for a second only to look at you with panicked eyes. "Oh my gosh."

"And congratulations. Out of all the new arts courses offered at KISS, you lucky few have stumbled into a masterclass." his dad continued.

"Masterclass, my ass," Min Ho said under his breath, you being the only person to laugh at his comment.

"But, I have news for you. Being a successful manager isn't something one can teach."

"Then why is this a class?" Min Ho commented once more, looking so done.

"It comes down to trusting your gut. And today, you will determine who will earn a spot in Advanced class and who will get their mic cords cut."

Kitty raised her hand. "Uh, Mr. MOON, i don't know enough about singing to be an effective-"

"Knowledge is do overrated," he cut her off. "My strongest opinions are on things I know almost nothing about."

"And that's my dad..." Min Ho sighed.

"I really wonder why you didn't want me to meet him," you joked only to receive a glare.

"Y/N, are you seeing the same man that I am seeing right now?" he gestured to his father.

"Yeah, an icon."

He huffed in frustration, but you could only laugh more at his reaction. As you were about to say something else, you met Stella's eyes. She was obviously telling you to back off. Who was she to tell you so? If anything, she should be grateful you gave her Min Ho's number even if he was your ex.

"Let's bring in the aspiring singers!" Mr Moon exclaimed.

Class went by quickly and, frankly, your feedbacks were written half-consciously. For most of them, you wrote some sweet comments with one or two flaws. Except for Dae, because he is a friend who just happens to be an excellent singer. At the end of the class, Mr. Moon went over everyone's feedback quickly — noting that Stella was being too kind and that Min Ho was a perfect critic — before class was dismissed.

"Y/N, you coming?" Min Ho said the moment the bell rang.

"Where?"

He shook his head in annoyance. "Just, come with me."

"Alright, my bad," you groaned.

Putting your belongings in your bag, you followed him out. You could hardly catch up to him as he was running out that room as fast as he could.

"Would you slow down?"

"Stop whining. I forgot how irritating that sound of yours is," he said in a huff.

"Well, why did you want me to leave class with you if I'm oh-so fun to be around?" you asked, growing impatient.

He stopped, making you almost run into his back. "Avoiding my dad and Stella. I feel comfortable with you so I guess you were my easy way out."

You took his hand — only as a friend — and rubbed it in a reassuring way. "You'll get through the semester just fine, I promise."

He let a chuckle out. "Well, if you and Covey are there, probably not."

You slapped his arm. "That's what I get for being nice?"

Satisfied his mocking worked, he laughed some more. "Is coffee going to make up for it?"

You perked an eyebrow. "Am I paying for it or-"

"On me," he said as if it was obvious.

Satisfied, you dragged him behind as you still had a grip on his hand. With a few protests, he tried to break away but gave in soon enough since you were clearly not going to let go of him.

Maybe he missed the two of you bickering like this as well.

It would have been a fun moment between you two if it wasn't for Mihee thanking Min Ho for getting into Advanced Voice which got Min Ho to go speak about it with his dad who kind of got into his head as he showered him with hopes and compliments... All that, and you had to follow him around like a literal lost puppy.

"I'll go," you said once you left his father.

He frowned. "What do you mean? We barely had time for ourselves."

"Exactly," you exhaled before clearing your throat. "I get this wasn't your fault, but I don't want to be your pet, following you while you do your stuff. That's what I did in L.A. and I don't it to happen again."

"Y/N," he tried to interfere but you didn't let him.

"And, please, let down Stella easily. She's nice, but she'll still give me death glares if you keep leading her on."

And with that, you left him there.

Kitty threw a dress on your bed... while you were laying in bed. You took the piece of clothing, looking at it up and down, and stood up to put it back in the wardrobe — where it belonged.

"Oh, come on!"

You threw yourself back on your mattress, pulling your phone out again. "I said I was not going."

"You're leaving me alone?"

You gave her a look. "It's a date, Kitty. The purpose of a date is to go one on one. Not with your friend as an extra."

She groaned. "But how am I not going to make a fool of myself?"

You shrugged, still on your phone. "Yuri and Juliana will be there too, no? They're getting ready as we speak."

Distressed, she took a huge pile of clothes from her drawer and dropped it on her own bed. "Help me out instead of making fun of my misery."

You ended up doing so because, well, you were her friend and you also did enjoy dressing her up. However, as soon as she was dolled up, you were back to being a couch potato. You didn't even hear the girls leave, and with Stella being gone wherever she was, you were left alone in the dorm.

Hunger got the best of you eventually, which made you check in the refrigerator what food you had left. Eggs and fizzy drinks were not going to fill your belly, so you took it upon yourself to change into a decent outfit. Once dressed, it was time to head to the department store near school so you could buy instant ramen for the hundredth time already.

Min Ho: Can we talk?

You saw the message, but ignored it. You had one goal in mind: food. While the fresh air hit you as soon as you opened the door, you got used to it quickly and rushed yourself to the store. Only then you spotted a familiar figure. Min Ho, again.

"For fuck's sake," you cursed under your breath as you tried to act as if you didn't spot him yet.

Thankfully, he was on his phone. You checked yours and he was, indeed, in the process of writing you another message. You almost found his attempt at reaching you cute. There was a lot of debating happening in your brain whether to text him back, come up to him, or even offer for him to go get food with you. The universe decided for you when his father appeared, walking furiously towards his son.

"Mihee dropped Advanced Voice," he said, anger spread through his entire body language. "You tipped her off, didn't you?"

"Well-" Min Ho started.

"You went around my back just to protect her feelings."

Again, you hated eavesdropping, but with how loud Mr. Moon was speaking, he didn't make it any easier. You poorly tried to hide behind a tree closeby. While you didn't like where this was going, you couldn't intervene. Not yet.

"I don't know why I thought you had what it takes to be a manager. I gave you a chance to step up and impress me," he continued, growing angrier by the second. "And instead, you threw it away for some loser who can't even sing."

"Don't talk to him like that."

Min Ho turned around and his eyes immediately softened when they landed on you. The words left your mouth without your knowledge, giving you no choice but to approach the duo.

"This is a private conversation between father and son."

"Well, you're a crappy father. Not just from what I am seeing right now, but also from everything I've heard about you. Min Ho does have what it takes to be a manager, more than you do with this tired Simon Cowell routine from 2002,"

You looked at Min Ho real quick to see if he would try to stop you, but he was speechless. Letting you steal the show, he was almost admiring you.

You took it as a sign to continue. "For a man who claims to have his finger on the pulse, you should know that bullying is so over, Mr. Moon. It's really a miracle you haven't been canceled."

His jaw clenched. "You certainly have a lot to say, don't you?" is all he said before taking off.

Not a sound could be heard after that. You didn't dare to look at Min Ho, not after the stunt you pulled. You had no idea what took over you.

"I'm sorry... I-" you started but left, embarrassed.

Only, you were stopped by a hand grabbing you by the arm. "No, wait," he said, turning your body to face him. "Y/N, where did that come from?"

"I don't know, it sort of just... came out? Seeing you being yelled at, I just snapped. And with everything you told me about him, I don't want you to suffer more than you already have."

He took both of your hands, grazing on your skin with his thumbs. "I've never had someone who'd stand up for me that way, so thank you."

You nodded shyly. "I just hope I didn't make things worse."

"You did quite the opposite. I think you impressed him. I bet he thinks you're a real badass," he chuckled. "It's a shame it's when we're not together anymore. He would have approved."

You didn't know what to respond, so you nodded again. "I should go, then."

His grip got firmer, a sign he didn't want you to leave. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure."

He gulped. "I'm sorry for kind of using you as some decoration I can bring wherever I want. That's never what you were to me and it will never be."

By default, your bodies kept getting closer to one another. Everything around you was like fog to you, there was only him and the sound of your heartbeat. A voice in your head told you to get away, to learn from the mistakes of the past. Another was screaming for you to play your cards right, and let him be back in your life again. In a word, divided. That's how you were feeling.

You raised an eyebrow, now curious. "What am I to you, then?"

"Hopefully, this."

Before either of you could process, you were kissing. It truly felt like your lips were meant to be together as they moved in sync. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his were placed on your waist. It felt... like home. And you hated that you loved it so much.

What you hated even more was seeing Stella behind him once you pulled away.

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[shadow211e]

Justin at been watching her from the shadows as she waited for him to arrive. She was so nervous, but already noticing how guys were starting to glance at her as they walked by. Justin had given her the earrings to wear for their date. He was smirking at how her body looked now. The earrings had given her a hot slutty body, the dress she picked out was showing off her tits and thighs, she clearly didn't even really realize what she was picking for herself. The simple girl was so boring before but now she was going to be his. "Izzy, so glad you decided to come." "Thanks, look you promised one date and you'd stop harassing my boyfriend." "Of course." "You look stunning." "Thanks," she said not knowing with the magic earring he gave her changed into a hot slutty one. The attention from guys was getting her horny.

He walked to her and she stood up, he leaned in to hug her and then went to plant a kiss on her cheek, she turned her head and he felt her lips push against his. She blushed as she pulled back. "Oh god I'm sorry," he said. She giggled "no that was my fault. I thought you were going to kiss me and I moved, and I guess that caused the kiss." "Well it was really nice." "Thanks," she blushed.

The date was going nicely, Justin was admiring how much Izzy was changing right in front of him.

Justin was driving her home, when he passed his house, he pointed it out "anytime you wanna come over and hang out, that's my place." She looked "why not now, we don't have to rush me home right?" "Of course not," he smirked knowing she was becoming his. He pulled into the driveway and led her into the house. It wasn't too much longer for the two of them to end up in his room. Her hands were all over his. He looked at her "what about your boyfriend?" "Why is he here? Are you going to tell him?" "Never." "So stop worrying," she said as she pulled off her top, exposing her round tits. They started going at it, ending up fucking until like 3 or 4 in the morning. She put on a simple black top and some of his sweats as he dropped her off at her house. She kissed him deeply, "can't wait for the next time." "Oh?" "If you don't wanna that's fine." "Nah babe, but how about you stick with the loser, I love fucking a cheating slut like you." "God that's fucking hot, I didn't even think about that, I was gonna end it, but your idea is fire." "See you soon babe."

No one at school really noticed the change in Izzy, the magic of the earrings helped with that. They all always talked about how she was so hot and kind of slutty but always was seen "dating" one of the nerdiest guys in school. She would make a show about loving him so much but a few people wondered. Only a very small select group of friends, girls she never talked to before she was changed but now who she thought were her closest bitches, knew the secret relationship she was having with Justin. None told anyone out of fear. Izzy was known from being a bit of a ruthless bitch. Hot and ruthless and feared at school. She sat passenger princess in her boyfriend's car, looking out at Justin getting into his truck. She smirked and her boyfriend asked what was up. She looked at him "Look at that asshole trying to compensate with that lifted truck." "Yeah well, he hasn't been tormenting me for the last few months so I could care less what he has been up to." "That's good," she said as all she could think about was the text she had sent to Justin and how tonight she would be bouncing on his cock in the bed of the truck. The plans were she would excuse herself to the bathroom at her anniversary date with her boyfriend and go fuck him in the parking lot, and come back to the date saying her stomach was bothering her to be brought home by her boyfriend let Justin's cum leak all over his car seat by time she got home. Justin would show up later to fuck her the rest of the night after ruining the nice dinner plans her loser boyfriend had. The thought excited her a lot.

[beneathsilverstars]

i keep adding things to this one post and then realizing they'd make more sense as a separate post. so here's how the party explained what happened in dagger ending au to bonnie:

Siffrin was very sad and worried about everyone leaving, because he was alone before he met us and he didn't want to be alone again. But he didn't talk about it because we all had plans that seemed very important, and he didn't want to get in the way, and he didn't want to admit that he didn't have anything else to do. It sounds pretty silly when you put it like that, but the rest of us were nervous to admit how much we cared about each other, too! Sometimes it's hard to tell someone how important they are to you, if you don't know whether you're important to them.

During the quest it was okay, because Siffrin knew we would stay together until Vaugarde was saved. But getting to Dormont meant the quest was almost over, and they got so upset at the idea of everyone leaving, that they didn't really care about what they were doing. Why did it matter what happened to them, when they were going to be sad and alone tomorrow either way? So they weren't very careful while they were training, and they got hurt. Luckily Odile saw, and Mirabelle healed them right up.

Now, he's really glad that we all decided to stay together longer! But he might still feel worried for a while, because it's hard to believe that everyone isn't leaving, after he's been dreading it for so long. And sometimes when you're sad for a long time, your brain just tries to keep being sad even when there isn't any reason to be. But if we keep reminding him that we love him just as much as he loves us, it'll start to stick in his brain better! We might also need to remind him to be careful and take care of himself, because that can be hard to remember when you're sad. And while he practices that, we can help take care of him, too!