#based on our seats maybe more see them in the screen but

[run2u]

im literally gonna cry almost exactly 4 years after first liking them i get to see txt in the flesh 😭😭

[smallestapplin]

Unhinged idea but the reverse harem autobot series has activated every single neuron in my brain

Imagine if the human was in a harem with the decepticons instead and the autobots want to save them, fearing you were being forced into the decepticon’s love (and totally denying the fact that seeing you naked on camera got their spikes painfully hard)

Giving you free reign other than that because my brain is full of the idea and empty as well AUDJSKDJDJDHF

Keep up the good work man, love your transformer fics !! :3 /pos

-Fae (if that isn’t already taken ofc)

I so need to write more of these

Warnings : GN!Reader, cybertronian language is used as it's mainly from their POV, exhibitionism, noncon voyeurism, noncon recording

Minors do NOT interact! 18+ only

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You were spotted by pure accident, in fact it was truly a miricale in the first place anyone outside of the decepticons had seen you, but it was Jazz who raised the alarm that the cons had kidnapped a human that left the autobots fuel lines freezing up.

Out on a casual drive Jazz had spotted Knockout not too far away, the con in a line up ready to street race it seemed, but something was different.

And that something was the cute human sitting in the driver's seat. He managed to radio Prowl, swiftly telling him the situation, but by the time the cop bot arrived you and the con were gone. Which left them arguing the whole way back to base.

informing the others was a whole different matter.

"Why didn't you stop him!?" Ironhide shouts, followed by Prowl agreeing with him.

So much yelling and for what?

"Alright that's enough! Jazz, you did the right thing, you could have put the human's life in danger interfering alone."

"But, Prime-"

"No, Ironhide, we need to save that human frm their clutches, but we can't do that if they are harmed or killed in the crossfires or because Megatron doesn't want to let his 'prize' go."

Ironhide growls under his breathe, angry that Prime is right, even if it means someone innocent is in the decepticons grasp. Your safety is their biggest concern, who knows what the cons are putting you through or even doing to you! Them rushing in head frsit will just put you, and subsequently them, in more danger.

They need to get on that ship and survey the area and situation, then they can go about the safest way of getting you out of there with little damage. Maybe thats how Mirage ended up on the Nemsis, invisible to the decepticons that he was careful to walk around as to not alert them.

He has a live feed right to base, so they can see everything he sees while he looks around, sneaking into room after room, peering in and looking for the little human. After the fifth room he forgets it and walks down the hallway, being sure to move out of the way for any con on patrol.

"This is pointless, if we storm them and take them by surprise we'd get that human out for sure!"

Optimus shakes his head, "Not nessecarily, if we do then one of the cons could grab the human a flee."

Bee huffs, though its a mask to hide the worry he feels watching the footage of Mirage walking through the hallways of the enemies ship, listening to their conversations of Knockout and Breakdown

"Seems lord Megatron isn't too happy."

"Yeah, I wonder whos fault that is."

"Our sweetspark wanted out to walk around, how is that my fault!?"

Our?

Sweetspark?

Optimus doesn't take his optics off the screen, even as the whispers and worried words fill the air behind him.

"Did they take a human for themselves?"

"Oh primus, they are using them as a stress toy! That poor person is probably being tortured!" Bumblebee screeches.

Prowl and Ironhide glare at the screen, muttering under theirs breathes, wanting to beat those decepticons helms in.

Ratchet keeps his optics on the screen, scowl on his face, though he can't lie about the worry eating at his spark. Are you okay? He doesn't know enough about human's fragile bodies, so could he ensure you lived long enough to get to a medic who knew what they were doing?

The room quickly falls silent as a sound grows louder and louder. Heads turn back to the screen, watching as Mirage follows quickly behind shockwave, thankfully still undetected, but the sight that greets them leaves their intakes dropped open.

Megatron, with a servo around you, thrusting his spike as deep as he could make it go.

You're sobbing, overloading, begging for him to slow down.

"Aren't you being a bit rough with them? Surely, humans are too squishy for such treatment." Shockwave spoke, merely walking towards where he left his data pad, as if this was completely normal.

"They like it. Isn't that right, pet?" Megatron grinds his spike into you, smirking as you cry out.

"Yes! Yes! M'sorry I should've asked-fuck! Megatron, please...!" You throw your head back, sobbing as it appears you've overloaded again.

Megatron vents, but his smirk never falters.

"So cute like this, taking my spike like you were meant to."

"I told you humans needed more enrichment, they would not have left with Knockout had you given them things to do while we are all busy."

Megatron's face plate twists into a scowl "Silence, Shockwave, as leader they are my Conjunx Endura first, the rest of the ship is just their...consorts."

Mirage is frozen in his spot, unable to look away from you taking such a massive spike in your little valve, and the other autobots are much the same.

So this is how they are using you? But what Megatron said, they couldn't possibly courted a human, they hate humans! Unless its...no, they'd never go that far, would they?

Hot Rod glances around the room, hoping to not be the only one finding the scene before them hot, but he can't read them.

Maybe it's just him, but seeing your soft body mold to the shape of the spike fragging you so good gets his engines purring.

He shouldn't, this is wrong on so many levels and a complete invasion of privacy. But to see your valve overflowing with transfluid like this, it gets him going.

You whimper, your optics look glazed over as you barely manage to look up at Megatron, who can't help but coo at you.

"Have you learned your lesson, dear?"

You fall limp once more in his hold, though you nearly cry once he pulls you off his spike, letting the transfluid pumped into you drop out.

"I did...I'll ask you next time, I promise."

Megatron chuckles, tenderly rubbing his thumb across your cheek, looking at you in such a loving way.

"Good. Now, I have things to attend to, but since you need so much attention, I'm sure Soundwave wouldn't mind keep you occupied."

The blue mech stands up straighter, moving away from his work station and swiftly goes right passed an unamused Shockwave.

Your gaze meets his red visor, which seems to glow. His servos shaking slightly as he takes you from Megatron, uncaring for his leader and Shockwave to make their exit, leaving him with you.

Mirage, despite his illusion feels as though he's exposed, perhaps now is his chance to leave-

Soundwave doesn't get long with you before Starscream barges in, loudly demanding his Conjunx Endura though Soundwave is not amused.

Just when he was getting his alone time too.

Optimus can't take this anymore, comming Mirage to get out of there now.

"Skyfire, go to the Nemesis and get Mirage."

The large mech jumps at his name being called, his face plate bright blue as he squeaks out a 'ok' and rushes out.

Ironhide is beyond appalled, how could those cons do that to you!? But...oh, oh Primus he wants to hold you down and let you take his spike.

The shared thought among the autobots was 'does their valve feel that good the decepticons are willing to share them?'

But oh they want to find out.

Their spikes are pressing against their modest plating, watching such a moment like that was too much for them-

"W-wait I'm-ohhh...fuck!" You squeal, body shaking from your used hole being filled again.

The room is filled with the sound of all their heads snapping to the screen, Mirage didn't seem to have moved, unable to look away or even turn the camera off.

Faintly they can hear Starscream arguing with Soundwave (though it's one sided) as Soundwave gently works his spike into your used valve.

"How dare you, it should be my turn to use their valve!"

"They were given to me, so silence." Soundwave doesn't entertain more of Starscream, focusing on you and pleasuring you.

The doors open once more, giving Mirage time to slide out unnoticed, but just enough to see Breakdown, Thundercracker, Skywarp, and the constructions following suit before the doors close.

Just how many spikes were you taking?

Just how many times a day?

"I uh, I need to go drive- Right, patrol!" Hot Rod and Bee jump up, rushing out of the room in seperate directions.

"Prime?"

Prowl looks to his leader as the larger bot holds his helm in his servos.

Optimus can't face him, he can't face anyone! Why did he like that so much? He should be ashamed, disgusted, but oh Primus above you were quite the addicting sight.

He needs you.

Frag, he shouldn't be thinking like that.

"Optimus, what is our game plan."

Jazz's stern voice cuts through his thoughts.

"I won't be easy, but we need to tread carefully."

Surely it shouldn't be too hard to obtain you, right? It's for your safety after all.

[vroomvroomcircuit]

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

[97keanu]

winter-themed phone sex w/ Dave Lizewski? like, y/n and Dave had plans to see each other but then a snowstorm hits and both of them are stuck in their own houses, so they have phone sex?

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳WAIT I LOVE THIS ONE!!! A few years of a LDR has me basing this one on some experience... 🤭

. ｡✩Tags/CW: dave and reader college au, boyfriend!Dave, circa 2010s vibes, skype s*x, mutual m*sturbation, dirty talk, I think usually Dave is a sub but today I'm feeling surprising dom!Dave(oh the confidence you can find behind a screen...), belt kink, talk of spanking/choking/slapping, semi aggressive talk, d*ldo use, cozy end.

"So, I'll see you tonight after your last class?" Dave asks, pushing his glasses up and leaning against the wall near you to try to ask suave.

You've both just exited your last shared class of the day. You reach up and pull his hat down over his ears, knowing he's going out in that cold weather today. It's been freezing, but no sign of anything else.

"Yes! I'll be headed over to your dorm soon as my night class is done." You smile, fixing your own cold weather garments before leaning in to sneak a quick kiss.

Dave's eyes flutter behind his glasses as you kiss him, practically melting into your lips. He knows it's kind of embarrassing to kiss in front of all the other students trying to get out of their own for the day, but he also kind of likes than everyone can see someone as gorgeous as you being the one to kiss him.

You give his hand one last squeeze and head off so you aren't late to your next class.

You're checking the clock over and over, practically aching to get out of class. Night has set so early as it does in December, and from your seat by the window, you can see the flurries of snow getting larger. Everyone is rushing, packing up quickly to try to beat the snow, but by the time you get outside, there's already more than a few inches.

You fight against a wicked wind that blinds you in a cloud of white as you try to get to your car. Your cheeks burn red from the cold, and you quickly brush off as much of the heavy blanket of snow on your car as you can before it starts to fill up with white again.

You weren't one to keep an eye on the weather, but when you finally hop into your car, you check your texts, seeing a million from Dave asking if your class was cancelled or not. You crank the heat of your car and wait for it to warm up, taking a moment to call your boyfriend.

"Babe! All you alright? Should I call a snow plow to come save you?" Dave's voice is half alarmed, half joking when he answers.

"No, no, I'm fine!" You laugh and assure him, knowing your big truck has four wheel drive and you're not unused to this weather. "But I'm not sure I can make it over tonight..."

"I totally understand..." Dave says, despite the pouting tone in his voice. "But I'll miss you..."

"I feel the same way," you say, leaning against your foggy car window. "Maybe I can make it up to you later this weekend if the snow clears."

"Yeah," Dave says with a sigh, then begins again as if he's had an idea. "Well, hey! Maybe we could try out having one of those virtual dates if you can't physically come!"

"Oh really? And what does that entail?"You laugh, not someone who's super tech savvy yourself for these things.

"W-Well," Dave says nervously, unsure it this would interest you. "We could each set up a little dinner in front of a Skype call and watch each other through our webcams? Maybe watch a movie together if we hit play at the same time?"

You think for a moment. It actually doesn't sound like a bad idea, and it's not like you really have much to do when you get home either besides maybe study and bundle up from the cold.

"That actually sounds really sweet..." You say with a smile into the phone. "I'm going to drive home, but you get it all set up for when I get there!"

"You got it!" You can tell just by his voice how excited Dave is.

. ｡✩

You finally arrive home, taking twice the time as usual from the low visibility and your cautious driving. You're lucky to have made it, there were a few cars on the side of the road having had swerved and gotten stuck in sudden snow banks. You pound your boots on the entrance mat, trying to get as much snow off them as possible. You shake a flurry off white off your body and peel yourself from your scarf, hat, and coat.

Finally, you're free, taking the time to send Dave a text about your arrival and your plan to make dinner then meet him for your Skype date.

You settle upstairs with a big mug of cocoa and a few slices of left over pizza finally, and get set up in front of your computer. The good news about dating Dave was that he had helped you completely outfit and build a PC that could do just about anything, despite the fact that you only really use it for school, YouTube, and the occasional minecraft server with him. He also had a webcam installed so that you could take your online classes as well, or give him a call if you felt the need.

You strip down to just a big comfy sweater and a pair of lacy red panties, happy that the webcam only sees your upper half. You made sure to turn up the heat in your apartment, so with the vent beneath the desk, you feel perfectly cozy after a rough time in the treacherous snow.

You quickly figure out how to use Skype once more, and before you know it, Dave appears on your screen. He's in his dorm room, outfitted with only the most prestigious nerdy memorabilia on the walls and shelves behind him. He looks more than happy to see you, giving a big smile.

"It worked! Awesome! You ready for our dinner date, babe?" His voice comes through your headphones, and for a moment, a chill runs down your spine as you remember how sexy you find it.

"Of course," you say with a smile and raise your plate and mug to the camera.

Dave does the same, showing a can of Coke and a bowl of Mac and Cheese. Then he pauses as if he forgot to mention something.

"Oh! Of course, our dinner wouldn't be a date if it wasn't candle lit!" He pulls a tiny candle into frame, its small light flickering on the screen.

You laugh, finding the effort a tad romantic, and mainly happy to still be able to spend some time with him.

"So, I picked out one of your favorite movies for us to watch. I'll send you a link!" He works something on his keyboard and screen and you wonder if he really knows you well enough to find a favorite of yours.

You click the link he sends and audibly squeal.

"What! I love The Princess Bride! How did you find it?" You hadn't seen it on any streaming service in so long, so you were surprised he could pull it up with ease.

"I have my ways..." Dave says with a small blush then pressing his glasses back up once again.

The two of you chat about your day, you telling him about the wicked snow storm, and how you barely made it home. He tells you about his latest comic he's been reading, and you enjoy hearing his interest in things he's passionate about. Your mug of cocoa warms your hands and you find your little date to be not quite as good as just being together, but the next best thing.

Eventually, you two start the movie by counting down and pressing play at the same time. You get comfortable, and find yourself loving this time together while the wind rages on outside your bedroom windows.

About half way through the movie, you get up to grab a pillow from your bed to get comfortable with, and forget that the camera can see much more than it did before when you walk away from it. You hear Dave's breath catch in your headphones.

"What?" You laugh, still bending over your bed to grab your pillow, ass now completely void of any sweater coverage.

"I-um..." Dave clears his throat nervously, then tries to be a bit suave. "I didn't know you would have worn those to see me tonight, they look good on you..."

Your body freezes and you turn to the camera, where your lingerie is overly apparent. You're not sure if you should be embarrassed or not! Dave is your boyfriend, so of course he's seen you naked before, but something about the fact that it's on camera has you pulling your sweater down and heat in your cheeks.

"Aw, c'mon, you don't have to hide it..." Dave continues, his nerdy voice obviously entranced by your form.

You carefully get back in your seat, not showing anything uncouth anymore.

"Oh my god..." Your face is so red, you wish he couldn't see it right now. "I can't believe I flashed you like that, I'm sorry, I forgot how much this thing can see."

"Hey...I think it's kind of hot that I can see you like that, even when you're far away..." Dave smirks and you have to admit, the thought is starting to turn you on too.

You decide to toy with him, leaning back in your office chair so he can just barely see your thighs. You watch as Dave leans closer to the screen, obviously entranced by your figure. You lift your sweater ever so delicately, slowly revealing those panties that made him so interested in the first place.

"Like this?" You ask coyly, as if you're completely innocent as to what you're doing.

"Y-yes." Dave stammers out, and you think his glasses will practically fog up from how red his cheeks are getting.

"If you want to see more," you say with a smirk playing on your lips. "I think it's only fair I see some of you..."

You didn't think it was possible, but Dave's blush deepens even more. He pulls back a bit from the screen and tries to laugh it off how worked up he is right now.

"O-oh! I mean, I uh..." Dave's hand reaches back and gives his dark curls a toss. "If that's, wh-what you want..."

"Now who's the one being shy?" You say, raising an eyebrow and letting your sweater drop back onto your thighs in protest.

Dave tries to come up with answer to that one, and fails. He clearly wants to see more from you, however, and he repostions his webcam so you can see more of his body. Particually, his lap. Through his jeans, you can see just how hard you've made him with so little. You love how easy it is to rile him up like this.

"Sh-should I do a little striptease for you?" He jokes, but you think that's actually not a half bad idea.

"Maybe...at least take it off slowly..." You reply.

Dave begins to lift his shirt, but you stop him.

"Let's start with your pants. That way, we're even..." You play with the hem of your sweater while giving him your best doe eyes.

He concedes, standing so that most of his waist takes up the camera. You find yourself leaning in now, a wetness growing between your legs as he takes off his belt in such a perfect way. He snaps it jokingly and laughs, but pauses when he sees your reaction.

"What? Should I spank you with this next time I see you?" Dave snaps the belt again and watches as you bite your lip coyly.

"I wouldn't say no..." You say appreciating your boyfriends figure as he slowly unbuttons his jeans.

His confidence continues, and you find yourself being turned on more and more as he unzips and slowly removes his jeans.

"Maybe I will bend you over my knee and treat you like the bad girl you are..." You know he still has a wave of laughing it off just in case you're not into the dirty talk he's starting, but you sense he's also getting into himself, especially with how hard and large his cock looks beneath his underwear.

"I'd like that..." You murmur, entranced by the screen before you. "I think you should tell me how you would punish me if you were here..."

"I would, um..." Dave tries to find the words, working it out. "I would turn you over and spank you until my handprint remains..."

You give a small moan to what he's said, your hands gripping your breasts and thighs over your clothing. You hear Dave's breathing pull in sharply, and you know this must be turning him on as much as you. You pull back your sweater once more, those red panties looking tantalizing on you once more.

"T-that's right... Take more off for me..." Dave's voice wavers as he tries to find a commandeering tone, but you oblige your sweet boyfriend just this once.

"Do you have any uh, toys?" Dave questions you, voice getting huskier by the second.

"Oh...? Why, do you wanna see me play with myself?" Dave is already nodding before you're finished, and you can see the need filling his blue eyes.

You stand, letting him get another view of your ass as you pull your typical toy from your nightstand. You see Dave blush once more as he gets a gander at your large pink dildo.

You sit, opening your legs so Dave can get a good view of your cunt, your red panties already starting to be soaked through. Dave had been rubbing himself over his boxers, but upon seeing so much of you, you watch with excitment as he slowly lets his cock flop out. You know youve seen it before, but his fat cock always surprises you with how girthy and thick it is.

"Take off your sweater." Dave commands, his deep and voice full of want.

You do as he says, realize the air of being unserious about this has shifted. Suddenly, you feel very inclined to do whatever your boyfriend tells you to.

You watch as Dave strokes himself, the tip of his cock growing wet just from seeing your tits fall out of your sweater so nicely. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, so he gets a nice view of them immediately. You hear him hold back a moan, his hands working just a bit faster once he sees your full figure.

"Tell me what you want to do to me..." You whisper into your headset mic, and you watch as Dave struggles between his own pleasure and dirty talking for a moment.

"I...I want to lay you on your bed and fuck you harder than I ever have..." He says it as if he's admitting it to himself his own dominating tendency.

Usually, Dave was pretty submissive in bed, and you liked that about him, but right now, something inside both of you wanted him to be the one to take control. You slide your hands up and down your body, feeling your own tits and pretending it's him.

"I want to be on top and see your face when you take such a big cock..." Dave mutters while biting his lip to keep another moan back.

Your legs feel tingly, and a shiver runs up your spine as you hear such little whimpers from him so close to your ears right now.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more..." You encourage him, and he takes it happily.

"I want to grab you by the neck, and make sure you know that it's me who's fucking you so good... I want to watch you choke a little while I fuck your brains out." You're a bit surprised by his new wants, but you don't mind.

In fact, you wish he would say more, say something really dirty and wrong that he would want to do to you.

"Let me see it..."

You already know what he wants, but your still tease him by slowly dragging your red panties to the side so he can get a good look at your glistening cunt. A groan escapes him when you do.

"Fuck...I need to fuck you so bad..." You love how easy it is to get him here.

"What else would you do?" You let your pretty pink dildo slide up and down your slit, teasing but not entering.

"I want to see you stuffed and filled with my cock, I want to slap away any moans you make from it, even though you can't help expressing how badly you want it..." Dave leans back into his chair as he speaks, hand still working himself, but getting lost in the moment.

"I want you to slap me until my cheeks go red..." You admit, and you can tell by his little sounds how much he wants that too. "Tell me what a dirty whore I am..."

"God, you're such a dirty whore...my personal little slut that I use up when ever I want to." Dave opens his eyes and watches you play with yourself for a moment.

"Put it in. I want you to stretch yourself out on your toy and imagine it's me, slut..." He finally commands you in such a way that there's no thought of even denying him.

Not with how badly you want this right now.

You let your toy slide in deeper to your folds, going past your most precious point, and deeper. You let your legs open wide for the camera, showing off your little cunt taking such a big dildo as yours. Dave watches intently, loving seeing you do exactly what he says, loving seeing you so filled up when he can't do it himself.

"Fuck yourself for me. I want you to moan my name and beg me to let you cum..." Dave is getting closer himself, the tip of his cock red and engorged as he strokes on.

You let your free hand play with your clit, slow circles quickly getting faster and faster as you take more and more of your own pleasure. You fuck yourself deeper, letting your toy really work your cunt in ways only you know feel best. You feel your skin prickling against the cool air now that your sweater cannot warm you against the cold of your apartment. You hit just the right spot inside of yourself, and Dave's name comes from your lips. You imagine it's him, fucking you into this computer chair, his hand around your throat.

"That's it, be a good little fucking slut and show me how you play with yourself..." Dave continues to entice you towards cumming.

"You better not cum without begging me though...you got that, bitch?" You can't believe your sweet, nerdy boyfriend could growl something so mean to you, but that's what makes this even better.

"Yes," You moan, agreeing to his terms.

"Good. You know how to be a proper whore then..." He sighs while he takes a moment to watch you, his own cock wanting nothing more than release right now.

"And if you don't cum for me now, I'll have to edge you relentlessly later." Dave threatens, and you feel yourself getting closer.

"Fuck, Dave..." You squirm in your seat, your cunt overwhelmed and swollen from how much attention you're giving it right now.

"That's right, baby girl..." He encourages you.

"I'm...I'm going to cum..." You whisper as you find yourself coming undone. "Please, please let me cum...!"

Your voice quivers and begs, your body spasming but holding off as you were told. Dave let's you keep it up for a few moments, stroking his own cock harder than ever, before groaning out.

"Cum for me..."

You feel those three magic words work their way against your skin, and suddenly, you're falling over the edge, waves of pleasure across your body, blossoming from your tender cunt. You watch as Dave finds his own pleasure, cum leaking out and eventually shooting down his hand, a low moan escaping his lips. You both ride out your orgasms together, and when you're done, there's nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the snow storm raging outside.

You both take a minute, before agreeing to take a moment to clean up. You both snap off the camera. You trot on liquid legs to your bathroom and for a moment, you can't believe you just did that. You had never had phone sex, let alone letting Dave see you so vulernable with yourself. You're still surprised by his sudden dominating energy, but you find yourself now yearn to enact what you two talked about. You'll have to bring it up next time you're over. You hope he isn't too shy when the camera isn't on.

Eventually you come back to your virtual date night, having a new mug of hot cocoa ready, and half of The Princess Bride to finish. You get the pillow you originally were going for before being sidetracked, and feel cozier and more close to Dave than ever despite the physical distance. Dave doesn't even mind when you fall asleep in your chair just before the credits roll. He leaves his computer on, but snuggles up in his bed, telling you goodnight from there and leaving his headset on to hear your soft breaths.

Maybe the snow storm wasn't so bad after all...

Taglist: @lazyneonrabbitt @nikistan @remuslupinsno1slut @haha-im-dumb @shakedogshake @beep-boop-baby @aesniri @pinkyyy666 @lpeanut-butterl @shrekscrustybudassy @lookatmelookatme @dreary-salem @almostjollypizza @boo8008 @arabellacrybaby @imaslutforcuddles @yasugardaddieshouse @real-sharena-h @stilloverthinking @tvgirlsbluehair @magicalgoopdeanhuman @jazmin25 @sknnylgndsstuff @lenasdmns @iluvkr @d3psta @sinjinpools @whotfistaylor @mut4nts @loser-lover0527 @vselva-blog @adrienette715 @jayjay57 @gildedgwen @izzyisstuff @casuallycruel-tswiftie13 @winter-bearv

[sstormyskyess]

omg 16 with poly tf141 would be the greatest thing ever reader brings not one, not two, but four huge beefcakes home to their shitty families holiday party that they only throw to show off their fancy house and shitty interior design, I know that probably wasn't the original idea of the prompt but if you're interested I'd love to see you write it thank you!

Family Affairs

author's note: i actually got to pull from personal experience with this one tbh, i’m gonna have to go to a party like this near the end of the year. unfortunately, i don’t have four beefcakes to bring with me 😔 at least i can imagine it though! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!!

cw: poly tf 141, general fluffy stuff, reader has a big family [just like me, i have 14 members in my extended family just on my dad’s side]

word count: 1800+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You were hoping, praying that you weren't going to get that one little text message that always spelled disaster no matter when it came across your phone screen. It had been a good run, too; you hadn’t suffered this fate in a good few years. But, apparently that winning streak was too good to be true.

You look at the notification on your screen again, re-reading it for about the third time. ‘We hope to see you at the party this year! P.S., please bring your boyfriend along this time, your aunt won’t drop it,’ the message from your mom read. Boyfriend. Little did she know, you in fact had four boyfriends, none of which had met your frustratingly nosy family.

Speak of the devil—or, one of them at least—John walks into the common area, a stack of papers in his hand. “Morning, love.” He shoots you a smile before focusing his attention back on the documents he was scanning. “What’s on your mind?” He takes a seat in the chair opposite you, leaning back and crossing his legs, one ankle on the other leg’s knee.

You think for a bit before sighing. “Off-base things. Family stuff.” It’s clear he was unsatisfied with your vague answer when he met your eyes with a raised brow. You huff, knowing you wouldn’t get away with dancing around the issue for even a moment. “My mom wants me to bring a boyfriend back for my aunt’s holiday party.”

John continues to look at you, his air gone from stern to confused within a second. “You do have a boyfriend. Four of them, actually.” He tilts his head as he states the obvious. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I know that. I just don’t wanna subject any of you to the torture that is being at those pointless parties.”

He just smiles at you again, his eyes returning to whatever was on the papers in his lap. “Maybe we’ll make it better for you. I’m sure the rest of our boys will be glad to accompany you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the prospect. Frankly, it did sound like a good idea on the surface; it would be nice to spend some down time with all the people you love, after all. After another few moments of thought, you nod and stand up from your chair. “You’ve got a point. I’ll go talk to the others, then—see if they’ll be able to come with us.”

John hums in approval, catching your wrist as you walk past toward the door. “Hey. Come here.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him and appreciating the feeling of John’s hand coming up to the nape of your neck, his fingers rubbing a loose circle on your skin. “Things will be fine, darling,” he says after pulling away. “Don’t worry.”

A deep sense of dread starts to build inside of you as your mini convoy starts to approach your aunt’s house, which is technically more like a mansion based on the size of it. It had already set in the moment Simon convinced the others to let him drive. Yes, he got you to your destination way faster than any of the others would, but that was only because he drives like a maniac.

The dread slowly developing wasn’t caused by Simon almost getting everyone into a wreck at least two or three times, though. It was caused by the fact that you could already see your family’s cars lined up along the road and sitting in the driveway, memories of past parties flooding your head.

Kyle beside you must notice the way you’ve started shrinking into yourself and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss you on the cheek. “I’m excited to meet your family, sweetheart.” An underlying joy is hidden in his voice, which brings a small smile to your face. “You sure?” You chuckle, leaning into him. “They can be a lot.”

“I’ve dealt with worse, no need to worry.” He ensures you, pressing a couple more kisses to your temple and your forehead. Your cheeks warm and you push his face away. “Stop it,” you say playfully.

Johnny helps you out of the car and wraps an arm around your waist when Ghost pulls over to park his car on the side of the street. “Who do you think is gonna be the favorite?” He asks with a grin on his face. You hum, tapping your chin and feigning deep thought. “Probably John. And not you, the responsible John.”

Johnny scoffs, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. “I am responsible! Can’t believe you would say such a thing!” You simply pull him closer and kiss him on the cheek, giggling under your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me—” You’re cut off by him giving you a big kiss on the lips. “Fine, you’re forgiven.” He gives you his bright smile, the one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners of them.

Simon walks past and tugs on Johnny’s sleeve, pulling him forward. “Get moving, Johnny.” He grunts, dragging him along and taking you with him in turn.”We’re coming, we’re coming,” Johnny huffs.

You take a deep breath once you reach the front door of your aunt’s house, amping yourself up to face the music head-on. You feel John’s comforting hand between your shoulder blades and you smile, his silent support soothing your nerves and giving you the courage to ring the doorbell, officially sealing your fate. No going back now.

Surprisingly, the night was actually going well. Just like John said, being able to sit in-between two of your ruggedly handsome partners while the other two were pulling your aunt’s attention away from you was massively more comfortable compared to your other experiences in this house.

Johnny and Simon, seated next to you on either side, chatted with a couple members of your extended family while Kyle was off in the kitchen making a plate of hors d'oeuvres for you, and John was busy entertaining your aunt and mother with various war stories from his yesteryears. It seemed like everyone was having a blast, their easy smiles contagious.

You look up when Kyle sits in the armchair next to the loveseat you, Simon and Johnny were posted up on. You grin when he presents you with a small plate full of various meats and cheeses. He kisses your hand as you reach over and take the plate from him, making your face heat up. You shoot him a pointed look, but he flashes his pretty smile in return. You can’t possibly stay mad at that smile—I mean, have you seen it? You just shake your head, unable to mask the flustered look on your face.

Your grandmother looks away from her conversation with Johnny and turns her attention to Kyle. “Oh my! Who’s this lovely young man?” She listens intently as he introduces himself and then starts up her usual questioning whenever one of her grandbabies brought someone to meet the family.

You let out a long sigh, your senses already getting overwhelmed after the past hour or so of entertaining the party with your boys. You start to pick at your hors d'oeuvres, building a little stack of what looked like some sort of salami and a piece of cheese on a cracker, popping it in your mouth. 

Simon’s hand comes into your downturned gaze and rests on your leg, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze, a silent check-in. You cover his hand with yours, looking up at him and smiling, effectively quelling his concerns. He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, an affectionate glint in his gaze. You return the look wholeheartedly and let him pull his hand away to rest in his lap.

You glance up when you hear your name being called across the room and see John and your mother looking over at you. She beckons you over and you sigh, standing up and starting to head over to the two of them. You jump when Johnny’s hand pats the back of your thigh a couple times, smirking up at you. You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet ‘stop that,’ trying to hide the fact that your heart skipped a beat at the smug look on his face.

John wraps an arm around your waist once you get close enough, his hand petting up and down your side. “Your mother wants to know how we met,” he explains. Your mother pipes up, “I also want to know why you were hiding these lovely men from the family for so long.” She gives you a look. The look. You groan, running a hand over your face. “Of course, mom.”

“I’ve no idea why you were so worried about tonight, bonnie. It was perfectly fine!” Johnny pulls you down to the couch in the living room of the house you and the others had bought recently, his arms tight around you. He held you in place to pepper kisses all over your face. You try to push his face away so you can actually respond to his comment; the effort was futile, but after a few pushes he pulls away on his own. “It seems like they were on their best behavior since you four showed up with me. You’re all pretty imposing, to be fair,” you say, leaning back against Johnny’s chest.

Simon walks in with a handful of mugs filled with warm spiced apple cider, passing them around the room and then sitting in his armchair, his legs crossed loosely. He notices your eyes on him and raises a brow. “You talking about me?” You laugh and shake your head. “Not just you, silly.”

Kyle catches the tail end of the conversation after coming downstairs in his lounging clothes, sitting next to John on the loveseat opposite the couch Johnny had you buried in. “I’m sure it was mostly you, Simon.” He grins, leaning into John’s side. You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m sure most of my family was intimidated by your dashingly handsome looks, good sir.”

John rests his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck. “That’s a good point, darling,” he smirks, taking note of the bashful look that crosses Kyle’s features. He hides his smile by taking a sip from his mug.

“Hopefully your family feels a bit more comfortable around us next year, yeah?” John takes a sip of cider from his own mug, before setting it down on the coffee table and picking up the remote to put something on the TV, probably some shitty holiday movie. The exact kind that he likes.

You hum and hold your warmed up mug in your lap, happily cuddling up with Johnny. “Yeah, hopefully.” There’s a brief pause before you realize what he just said and the implications of it. “Wait—next year?” And once again, that signature sense of dread hits you and you groan, knowing you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[jinnieboosworld]

Strawberry Milkshakes

Eric Sohn x Fem Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Drama, Fluff

Summary: Eric Sohn loves his job working as a waiter at a 24 hour diner. So when the diner starts to lose its customers to a rival diner he has to go there to see what all the hype is about, and that’s when he meets you. A pink haired, neon colored- dressed, rollerblader, who makes amazing strawberry milkshakes.

Word count: 10,998

Part of the Meet Cute Series

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The bell over the door of MiMi’s Diner gave a sharp jingle as it swung open. Eric Sohn, standing behind the counter, glanced up from the schedule he was reviewing. Only two customers walked in—a middle-aged couple who were familiar faces in the diner.

“Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Lee,” Eric greeted, trying to keep his tone upbeat, even though a creeping sense of worry had been gnawing at him for weeks now. “Same as usual?”

Mrs. Lee smiled, but there was something distant in it. “Not today, Eric. Just a couple of coffees to go.”

Eric’s heart sank. They always stayed for at least an hour, chatting and enjoying the pancakes or waffles MiMi was known for. “Sure thing,” he replied, watching them settle by the window, their eyes wandering in a way they never had before.

He turned to Kevin, the new and extremely energetic waiter who was already bouncing over to the counter. “Hey, Kev, two coffees for the Lees,” Eric said, running a hand through his hair.

“Two coffees coming right up!” Kevin chirped, his usual enthusiasm undimmed by the day’s lackluster start.

Eric sighed and stepped over to MiMi, who stood behind the register, scanning the empty seats around them. “Twelve customers today. That’s it,” Eric said quietly, leaning on the counter next to her.

MiMi shook her head, her expression one of concern. “I just don’t get it, Eric. We’ve been through slow times before, but this? It’s like they’ve all just vanished.”

Sunwoo, leaning through the serving window from the kitchen, chimed in. “Not vanished—just gone to that new place on 82nd Street. The Midnight Shake or whatever it’s called.”

MiMi waved her hand dismissively. “We’ve had competition before. We’ve always been fine.”

“Yeah, but this place is packed,” Sunwoo said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I snapped this on my way back from lunch yesterday.”

He held out his phone, and Eric and MiMi both peered at the screen. The parking lot of The Midnight Shake was completely full, with people actually waiting outside.

Eric frowned. “I don’t get it. What are they offering that we aren’t?”

Kevin, carrying the Lees’ coffees over to the table, paused and looked back. “Maybe they’re putting something special in their shakes?” he joked, flashing a grin.

Eric didn’t laugh. His eyes narrowed at the image on Sunwoo’s phone. “There’s gotta be more to it than just shakes. Our food’s just as good, and we’ve got a loyal customer base.”

MiMi sighed heavily, resting her hands on the counter. “Maybe it’s time we check them out.”

Eric’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet. “I don’t know… it feels weird, doesn’t it? Spying on the competition?”

MiMi glanced around the nearly empty diner. “Call it market research.”

Eric opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of Kevin’s voice from across the room. “Have a great day, Mr. and Mrs. Lee! See you tomorrow, I hope!”

The couple offered a polite wave as they slipped out the door, and the bell’s jingle felt far too loud in the now-empty space.

Eric crossed his arms, staring at the door. “Maybe I should go see what all the hype is about. Just to see if we’re missing something obvious.”

MiMi raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure? I’d hate for you to get too worked up over this.”

Eric glanced back at her. “I’m not worked up. I just want to understand what we’re up against.”

Sunwoo smirked, crossing his arms. “Or who you’re up against. Word around town is their main waitress over there is quite the spectacle.”

Eric frowned. “Spectacle?”

Kevin bounced back over, clearly eager to join in the conversation. “Yeah, I heard she’s on roller skates! And apparently, she makes the best strawberry shakes in the city.”

Eric blinked. “Roller skates?”

MiMi shrugged. “If that’s what it takes to get people in the door…”

Eric shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Well, gimmicks don’t last forever. If it’s just a flashy waitress, we’ll be fine.”

Sunwoo chuckled. “Maybe, maybe not. I hear they’re doing something right. Could be worth your time to swing by and see for yourself.”

Eric clenched his fists, feeling a strange sense of competitiveness bubbling up. “Fine. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”

MiMi looked at him, her concern evident. “Just don’t do anything rash, Eric. It’s just a diner.”

But to Eric, it wasn’t just a diner. MiMi’s had been his life for the past eight years. He wasn’t about to let some new place run them out of business.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Why do I feel like I’m about to go into battle?” Eric muttered under his breath, checking his reflection in the window.

“You look like you’re about to audition for a movie,” Kevin teased from across the counter. “Just relax, man. It’s a diner, not a gladiator ring.”

Eric shot him a look. “I just want to understand what’s going on over there.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Kevin replied with a smirk, hopping over to refill a few ketchup bottles.

Eric turned his attention back to the door, then squared his shoulders. He grabbed his jacket and took a deep breath. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he called over his shoulder.

“Good luck!” Sunwoo shouted, his laughter echoing through the kitchen.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, Eric made his way down the street. He was on edge, wondering what exactly he would find at The Midnight Shake. Roller skates? Strawberry shakes? It sounded ridiculous, but if it was taking away MiMi’s customers, then it was serious enough.

As he turned onto 82nd Street, the neon sign for The Midnight Shake came into view. It was garish, bright pink and blue lights flickering in the evening sky, casting a glow over the busy parking lot. He could already see the crowds through the windows.

It was packed.

Eric felt a mix of disbelief and frustration. How could they be drawing so many people? He steeled himself and made his way closer.

Before he could even reach the front door, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of roller skates on pavement. Eric glanced to the side, and there she was.

Y/N. She zipped out of the diner’s side entrance, rollerblades gliding effortlessly over the concrete, her neon-colored outfit clashing with the night sky. She had pink hair that caught the last rays of the setting sun, and in her hand, a tray of to-go orders.

Eric stopped in his tracks, watching as she navigated through a small crowd, expertly balancing the tray while weaving between people. She didn’t miss a beat.

He found himself staring, not just at her skills, but at the way she smiled at every customer she passed, like she knew them all personally. There was something magnetic about her presence.

She glanced his way for a split second, and their eyes met.

Y/N gave him a brief, puzzled look, clearly not recognizing him, before skating off toward a group of waiting customers.

Eric blinked, his chest tightening for reasons he couldn’t explain. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.

“Focus, Eric. You’re here for a reason,” he muttered to himself as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The interior of The Midnight Shake was bustling with energy, a stark contrast to MiMi’s. The walls were decorated with retro neon signs, and the atmosphere was vibrant, almost chaotic.

As he stood at the entrance, trying to take it all in, a waitress in roller skates—Y/N—zoomed past him with another tray of milkshakes.

“Welcome to The Midnight Shake,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Eric clenched his fists. This was more than just a diner; this was a circus. And somehow, they were winning.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The bell jingled softly as Eric pushed open the door of MiMi’s, stepping back into the familiar space. It should have felt like a comfort, but after what he had just seen at The Midnight Shake, it felt strangely hollow. The contrast between the two diners weighed on him heavily. The buzzing energy, the vibrant colors, the constant hum of activity—everything at that place had felt alive. MiMi’s, by comparison, seemed quiet. Too quiet.

“Back already?” MiMi’s voice floated over from behind the counter. She was wiping down the register, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

Eric gave a noncommittal grunt and hung his jacket on the hook by the door. “Yeah. It’s… packed over there.”

MiMi frowned, the lines around her eyes deepening. “What do you mean? Like busy?”

“Busy doesn’t even cover it.” Eric exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s chaos. But organized chaos. People are everywhere, and they seem to love it.”

Kevin, who was leaning against the counter with a milkshake in hand, raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the deal? Are they just giving away free stuff or something?”

Eric shook his head, the image of Y/N on her roller skates still lingering in his mind. “It’s more than that. They’ve got this whole atmosphere. It’s loud, bright, like a party in there.”

Kevin laughed. “A party at a diner? Sounds like a gimmick to me.”

“Maybe,” Eric muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he believed that anymore. “But it’s working.”

MiMi placed the cloth down and crossed her arms. “Do they have better food?”

Eric shook his head. “It’s not that. Their menu’s not much different from ours. It’s the experience. That waitress on skates? She’s the one drawing people in. She’s… flashy, I guess. And she’s good with customers.”

“Roller skates? Seriously?” Sunwoo appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the frame of the door. “What is this, the 70s?”

“It’s ridiculous,” Eric agreed, but his voice lacked conviction. He couldn’t stop thinking about how smooth Y/N had looked as she weaved through the crowd, or how every customer seemed to leave with a smile after interacting with her. “But they’ve got something we don’t. And whatever it is, it’s taking our customers.”

Kevin took a long sip of his milkshake and shrugged. “Maybe we need to shake things up too. Get roller skates, or maybe start doing karaoke nights or something.”

MiMi sighed. “We’ve never needed to do gimmicks before. Our food’s always been enough.”

Eric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Yeah, but if we don’t adapt, we’re going to lose everything. We need to find a way to stand out again.”

There was a pause, the silence hanging heavy between them. Kevin, always the optimist, grinned and clapped Eric on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, boss. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Eric offered a tight smile, but inside, he wasn’t so sure. He felt an unfamiliar sense of competition bubbling inside him, not just with the diner itself, but with Y/N. She wasn’t just another waitress; she was becoming the face of the place that was threatening everything he had built at MiMi’s. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was personal.

Days passed, and the situation at MiMi’s grew more tense. Every shift seemed quieter than the last, and Eric could feel the frustration building in the air. Kevin kept trying to lighten the mood, but even his boundless energy couldn’t fully mask the growing worry that was settling over the diner

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

He didn’t have a plan, not really. Maybe he’d just walk by, see if things had calmed down. Or maybe he’d confront Y/N, see what she was doing that was so special. He didn’t know why, but he felt drawn back to that place, like he had unfinished business there.

As he approached, he could hear the familiar hum of the diner, the sound of people talking, laughing. And then, over the din, the unmistakable sound of roller skates on pavement.

There she was again—Y/N. She glided out of the side entrance, her tray stacked high with milkshakes, her pink hair catching the evening light. She didn’t notice him at first, her attention focused on the customers waiting by the curb.

Eric stopped in his tracks, watching her again. She was efficient, no wasted movement, but it wasn’t just that. She had this way of making every interaction feel personal, like every customer was her favorite. He could see why people were drawn to her, even if it grated on him.

As she handed the milkshakes off to a group of teenagers, Y/N glanced up and noticed him standing across the street. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition passing over her face.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. Then, with a quick motion, she pushed off on her skates and headed straight toward him.

Eric braced himself as she rolled to a stop in front of him, her arms crossed and a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “Well, well. If it isn’t the competition.”

Eric clenched his jaw. “I’m not here to spy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Right. Just happened to be in the neighborhood, huh?”

Eric held her gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe I was just curious.”

“Curious?” Y/N’s smirk widened. “Or worried?”

His fists clenched at her tone, that playful edge she seemed to have. She was enjoying this, that much was clear. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but MiMi’s isn’t going anywhere.”

Y/N tilted her head, looking him over like she was sizing him up. “Oh, I’m not playing any games. Just doing my job. If people want to come here instead of your place, that’s on them.”

Eric’s jaw tightened. “You think it’s just that simple? You’re stealing our customers.”

“Stealing?” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “No one’s stealing anything. Maybe they just like the shakes better over here.”

Eric took a step closer, his voice dropping lower. “It’s more than just shakes, and you know it.”

Y/N looked up at him, her smirk fading slightly. For a moment, there was something else in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite place. Then, just as quickly, she shook her head and pushed off on her skates. “Whatever you say, Mr. MiMi’s.”

She started to roll away, but Eric’s voice stopped her. “I’m not done.”

She turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? What else is there?”

Eric opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t even sure why he had stopped her.

Y/N gave him a long look, then shrugged. “See you around, Eric.”

And just like that, she skated off, disappearing back into the busy diner.

Eric stood there for a moment, feeling a strange mix of frustration and something else—something he didn’t want to admit to himself.

As he turned to walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this rivalry was only just beginning.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next few days dragged on for Eric. Every shift at MiMi’s felt like a reminder of how quickly things were slipping away. He could see it in the eyes of his coworkers too, even Kevin’s usually upbeat attitude seemed a little deflated. Each day was slower than the last, and the conversations in the diner were quieter, as if everyone was waiting for something to change.

“So, how’s business today?” Kevin asked one afternoon, his voice carrying an almost forced cheerfulness. He was leaning against the counter, tapping his fingers absentmindedly.

Eric didn’t even look up from the receipt he was staring at. “Same as yesterday. Dead.”

Kevin let out a dramatic sigh and slid into one of the stools by the counter. “You think MiMi’s gonna close down if this keeps up?”

“Not if I can help it,” Eric muttered, though the weight of his words felt heavier than he wanted to admit.

Kevin studied him for a moment, the usual energy in his voice fading. “You’ve been real quiet lately. You’re not seriously letting that other diner get to you, are you?”

Eric clenched his jaw. “It’s not just another diner. It’s her.”

Kevin blinked. “Who?”

“That girl on skates,” Eric snapped, his frustration boiling over. “Y/N. She’s the one pulling all the customers.”

“Ohh,” Kevin said, his voice suddenly full of interest. “Wait, wait, wait—are you mad because of the competition, or because she’s kinda hot?”

Eric shot him a glare. “This isn’t about that.”

“Uh-huh.” Kevin grinned, leaning closer. “Sure. But you gotta admit, there’s something about her, right?”

Eric’s mind flashed back to their brief confrontation, the way Y/N had looked so confident, so unbothered by the rivalry. “She’s annoying,” he said flatly.

Kevin laughed. “You sound like you’re in high school. Come on, man, if she’s the competition, why not make things interesting?”

“How exactly?” Eric’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

Kevin shrugged. “I don’t know, get creative. Push back a little. Or you know, maybe… ask her out.”

Eric scoffed, shaking his head. “Not happening. She’s the reason we’re losing customers, and I’m not about to make this personal.”

Kevin’s grin didn’t falter. “You sure about that?”

Eric didn’t answer. He turned his back on Kevin, pretending to busy himself with straightening the silverware at the tables. But no matter how much he tried to focus on the task, his mind kept drifting back to Y/N. To her teasing smirk. To the way she glided through the diner on her skates like she owned the place. To how she had brushed him off like he didn’t even matter.

The thought burned at him. This wasn’t just business anymore. It was personal.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was a late Friday afternoon when Eric found himself standing outside The Midnight Shake again, this time deliberately. He hadn’t told anyone he was coming, especially not Kevin, who would have had too many jokes about it. Eric wasn’t sure what had compelled him to return, but part of him was itching for another encounter with Y/N. He had convinced himself it was to see what else the diner was doing to pull customers away, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.

As he approached the diner, he noticed the same lively crowd, the parking lot full of cars, and the hum of conversation spilling out onto the street. But this time, he wasn’t just watching from across the road—he was going in.

Pushing open the door, he was immediately hit with a wave of noise. The place was packed, even more so than before. The neon lights flickered cheerfully, casting a warm glow over the booths filled with customers laughing and chatting. The atmosphere felt electric, like everyone was part of something exciting. And right in the middle of it all, as if she were the ringleader of the chaos, was Y/N.

She was gliding between tables, her skates moving effortlessly across the checkered floor. Her bright pink hair caught the light as she laughed at something a customer said, handing over a strawberry milkshake with a flourish. She didn’t even notice Eric standing by the door, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed.

He took a deep breath and walked toward an empty spot at the counter, trying to blend in. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene, but he couldn’t deny the strange sense of anticipation building inside him. Maybe he was hoping for another confrontation. Maybe he just wanted to prove that this place wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

As he sat down, Y/N skated up to the counter, still not noticing him. She was busy making milkshakes, her hands a blur as she poured, blended, and garnished each one with whipped cream and a cherry. Her focus was impressive, and for a brief moment, Eric found himself watching her with a kind of reluctant admiration.

“Order up!” Y/N called out, pushing a tray of shakes toward the end of the counter.

And then her eyes flickered up—and landed on him.

Her expression shifted in an instant, from casual indifference to something sharper, more focused. She raised an eyebrow, skating over to where he sat. “You lost, MiMi’s?”

Eric met her gaze, refusing to back down. “Just curious about the competition.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Thought you said you weren’t spying.”

“I’m not,” Eric replied, his tone even. “Just seeing what all the hype is about.”

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And? What do you think?”

Eric shrugged, trying to appear unfazed. “It’s loud.”

She smirked. “That’s not what the customers think.”

Eric clenched his jaw, the frustration bubbling up again. “Maybe they’re just here for the novelty. Doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

Y/N’s smirk widened. “You really don’t get it, do you? People come here because they like it. It’s not just about the food—it’s about the experience.”

“And what experience is that, exactly?” Eric challenged. “Skating around and flashing neon lights?”

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “It’s about giving people something different. Something fun. They’re not just here for a meal—they’re here to have a good time. Maybe that’s what MiMi’s is missing.”

Eric’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t need gimmicks to keep our customers.”

Y/N straightened up, shrugging. “Maybe not. But you’re here, aren’t you?”

Eric opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a group of customers called for Y/N from the far end of the diner. She glanced over, then back at Eric, her expression softening just a fraction. “Look, I get it. You’re mad because things aren’t going the way you want. But if you really want to know why people are coming here, you should stop thinking about it like a competition.”

Eric frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N gave him a long, searching look. “It means you’re so focused on beating us, you’re not paying attention to what your own place needs. Figure that out, and maybe you won’t have to worry about us anymore.”

With that, she pushed off on her skates, rolling back into the sea of customers like she hadn’t just left Eric standing there, speechless.

The walk back to MiMi’s felt longer than usual. Eric’s mind was racing with everything Y/N had said, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she had gotten under his skin in a way no one ever had before. It wasn’t just the rivalry anymore—there was something more to it. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As he stepped into MiMi’s, Kevin was waiting by the door, his usual grin plastered across his face. “Well? How’d it go?”

Eric hesitated, then shook his head. “It was… fine.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just fine?”

Eric didn’t respond. Instead, he moved behind the counter and started wiping it down, trying to focus on the mundane task to clear his head. But Kevin wasn’t letting it go.

“Come on, man. You went there for a reason. What’s the deal? Did you talk to her?”

Eric’s grip tightened on the cloth. “Yeah. We talked.”

Kevin leaned in, his grin widening. “And? Was she as annoying as you thought?”

Eric paused, the memory of Y/N’s words still fresh in his mind. “She’s… not what I expected.”

Kevin let out a low whistle. “Ohhh, so that’s how it is. You’ve got a thing for her.”

Eric shot him a glare.

Eric’s glare only made Kevin’s grin wider, the playful teasing written all over his face. “I don’t have a thing for her,” Eric muttered, turning back to the counter, scrubbing furiously as if it would help him escape the conversation. “She’s the competition. That’s all.”

Kevin let out a laugh. “Sure, sure. But you’re thinking about her, aren’t you? I mean, it’s been weeks since anyone’s gotten under your skin like this.”

Eric didn’t respond right away. The truth was, he had been thinking about her—more than he wanted to admit. But not in the way Kevin was suggesting. Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Kevin watched him for a moment before leaning closer, lowering his voice as if he were about to share some great secret. “Look, man, maybe she’s right. Maybe we’ve been so focused on trying to beat them that we’re missing what makes us special.”

Eric paused, his hands stilling on the counter. He’d been thinking the same thing ever since Y/N’s words had echoed in his head. Maybe MiMi’s didn’t need to change into something it wasn’t. Maybe it just needed to find a way to bring back the energy and excitement it used to have.

But before he could delve deeper into those thoughts, MiMi herself walked in from the back, looking around at the empty diner with a sigh. “Another slow day, huh?”

Kevin shrugged. “Could be worse. At least we’ve got the regulars.”

MiMi’s face softened. “Yeah, but we used to have so much more. I remember when this place was packed. People couldn’t get enough of our food, the atmosphere…”

Eric glanced at her, his heart sinking a little. MiMi had poured everything into this diner. It wasn’t just a business to her—it was her life. And if it failed…

“We’ll figure it out,” Eric said firmly, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure MiMi or himself.

MiMi gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know you will. You’ve always had a way of bringing people in, Eric. Maybe you’ll find that magic again.”

Eric nodded, though his mind was already wandering back to Y/N, to the way she had talked about creating an experience, not just serving food. Maybe that was the key. Not trying to copy The Midnight Shake, but finding something that would make people want to come to MiMi’s again—something authentic.

The next day started like any other, slow and quiet. Eric showed up early, as he always did, to get everything ready for the day ahead. Kevin had rolled in not long after, full of energy as usual, chatting about random things that Eric only half-listened to.

But it wasn’t until later that afternoon that something strange happened.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Eric had been walking through the park after his shift, needing to clear his head and figure out a plan for MiMi’s. The sound of kids playing and people laughing filled the air, offering a brief distraction from the diner’s struggles.

As he rounded the corner, though, he saw something—or rather, someone—that made him stop in his tracks.

There, gliding effortlessly down the path on her rollerblades, was Y/N.

She hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on weaving between people as she made her way through the park. She had on the same neon-colored outfit she always wore, her pink hair bouncing with each movement. She looked so carefree, so at ease, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Eric felt a strange tightening in his chest. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave before she noticed him, but something else—something he couldn’t quite name—kept him rooted to the spot.

He watched as she skated toward a group of kids who had gathered by the park’s fountain. They were giggling and calling out to her, and she skidded to a stop, crouching down to talk to them. Eric couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the kids were laughing and pointing at her skates, and she was showing them some kind of trick, making them cheer.

For a moment, Eric forgot all about the rivalry. He forgot about MiMi’s, about The Midnight Shake, about everything. All he could think about was how different Y/N seemed outside of the diner. How she wasn’t just some competitor trying to steal their customers—she was a person. A person with a life outside of the neon-lit walls of her diner.

He didn’t realize he was staring until she looked up and caught his eye.

Her smile faltered for a second, but then it came back, though this time it was laced with something a little sharper. “You stalking me now, MiMi’s?”

Eric blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, stepping closer but keeping his hands shoved in his pockets. “No. Just walking.”

She raised an eyebrow, pushing herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much taller than the kids she had been talking to. “And you just happened to be walking through this park?”

Eric shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s a public park.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, shaking her head as she rolled over to the fountain, sitting on the edge. “Alright. If you say so.”

Eric hesitated, unsure of what to say next. He wasn’t used to this kind of conversation, especially not with someone like Y/N. But there was something about the way she sat there, casual and unbothered, that made him want to keep talking.

“So, do you do this every day?” he asked, gesturing to her skates.

Y/N glanced down at them, as if she had forgotten she was even wearing them. “Most days. Helps me clear my head.”

Eric nodded, though he didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t expected to run into her, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure where to take the conversation. But Y/N didn’t seem to mind the silence. She just sat there, watching the kids play in the fountain, her expression thoughtful.

“You really care about that place, don’t you?” she asked suddenly, catching Eric off guard.

He frowned. “What place?”

“MiMi’s,” she said, looking at him. “It’s not just a job to you. I can tell.”

Eric wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, especially not here, in the middle of the park. But the truth was, she was right. MiMi’s wasn’t just a job to him. It was part of his life. It had been for years.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a sigh, stretching her arms over her head as she stood up. “Well, good luck with it. I mean that.”

Eric blinked, surprised. “You… mean that?”

She smirked, giving him a playful look. “Don’t get me wrong, I still want to beat you guys. But it’s nothing personal.”

He stared at her, trying to process her words. She wanted to beat them, but it wasn’t personal? How could it not be personal?

Before he could respond, Y/N pushed off the fountain and started skating backward, giving him a quick salute. “See you around, MiMi’s.”

And with that, she skated off, leaving Eric standing by the fountain, more confused than ever.

For the rest of the day, Eric couldn’t get Y/N out of his head. Her words, her teasing smirk, the way she seemed to float through life without a care—it was all swirling around in his mind, distracting him from everything else. He found himself replaying their conversation over and over, wondering what she really meant.

“Eric, you okay?” Kevin’s voice broke through his thoughts as they both wiped down the tables before closing time.

Eric blinked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Kevin grinned, leaning on his broom. “About that skater girl, huh?”

Eric shot him a look. “I told you, it’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” Kevin’s grin only widened. “But seriously, you’ve been acting weird ever since you ran into her. What happened? Did she say something?”

Eric hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Kevin everything, especially not about the part where Y/N had wished him luck. It felt too personal, too complicated to explain. “Nothing important,” he said finally. “Just the usual.”

Kevin watched him for a moment, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. “You know… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to her. Like, really talk to her.”

Eric frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’s obviously not the enemy,” Kevin said, shrugging. “Maybe if you stopped seeing her as the competition, you’d realize she’s just a person. A person who’s running a diner, just like you.”

Eric didn’t respond, but Kevin’s words stuck with him. Maybe he was right. Maybe this rivalry was more in Eric’s head than anything else. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop seeing Y/N as the enemy—and start seeing her as something else.

What that “something else” was, though, Eric wasn’t sure yet.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next few days passed slowly. Eric found himself slipping into a strange routine: wake up, go to MiMi’s, work a slow shift, and inevitably think about Y/N at some point during the day. Even though he tried not to, her words, her carefree smile, the way she seemed both competitive and friendly, stayed lodged in his mind.

Business wasn’t improving. MiMi had started adding more specials, offering discounts to try and bring customers back, but none of it seemed to work. It felt like they were trapped in a spiral, each day slower than the last.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” MiMi remarked one afternoon as she refilled the sugar containers at the counter. “Everything okay?”

Eric wiped his hands on his apron, hesitating before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

MiMi chuckled softly. “You think too much, Eric. Sometimes you’ve just got to let things be.”

He smiled at her, appreciating the sentiment, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t just “let things be” when MiMi’s Diner was at stake. He felt responsible. Like it was up to him to figure out how to turn things around. And no matter how much he tried to push it aside, Y/N kept coming back to his thoughts, almost like a challenge he couldn’t quite solve.

Kevin, as usual, noticed right away.

“You’ve got that look again,” Kevin teased as they worked side by side that evening. “The ‘I’m thinking about the enemy’ look.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “I’m not thinking about her.”

“Yeah, right. Look, man, it’s okay if you are. Just admit it—you’re curious. It’s human.”

Eric sighed, leaning against the counter as he looked out at the empty diner. “It’s not just that. She’s… I don’t know. She’s different than I expected. I thought she’d be all about trying to take us down, but she’s not like that. And now I can’t stop wondering what it would take to really beat her.”

Kevin’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? You think this is about beating her? You sure you’re not trying to figure out something else?”

Eric shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kevin grinned, shrugging. “I don’t know, man. I just think there’s more going on here than you’re willing to admit. Maybe she’s not the competition you think she is.”

Eric opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, MiMi appeared from the back, her face lined with worry. “We’ve got a problem,” she said, holding up a flyer.

Eric frowned, taking the paper from her hands. It was an advertisement for The Midnight Shake, plastered with bold, neon lettering and a list of new specials they were rolling out, including a new menu of shakes that promised to be “unlike anything you’ve ever tasted.”

“New shakes?” Eric muttered, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. It wasn’t just that Y/N made incredible milkshakes—it was that she had somehow managed to make them a central part of their rivalry. And now she was pushing even harder.

MiMi shook her head. “We can’t keep up with this. We’ve tried everything—new specials, discounts, but it’s not enough. If we don’t figure out something soon…”

Her words trailed off, but Eric didn’t need her to finish. He could feel the pressure building inside him, the weight of their dwindling business pressing down on him harder than ever.

He folded the flyer in half, shoving it into his apron pocket. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

But the truth was, he wasn’t so sure.

It was later that week when Eric found himself wandering back through the park again. He hadn’t planned on it—it just sort of happened. The diner had been slow, his shift dragging by without any real distractions, and before he knew it, he was back at the place where he had first run into Y/N.

This time, though, he wasn’t caught off guard when he saw her.

She was skating again, weaving between people effortlessly, her neon outfit catching the sunlight and making her look like some kind of beacon. She hadn’t noticed him yet, but he found himself watching her again, his thoughts tangled in a mess of confusion.

Before he could decide what to do, she skidded to a stop by the fountain, just like before, and turned around—only this time, she saw him right away.

Her eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Back again, MiMi’s?”

Eric shoved his hands in his pockets, walking toward her but keeping a safe distance. “It’s a public park.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile widening. “You’ve got to stop using that excuse. You’re not very convincing.”

He shrugged, though his heart was beating faster than he wanted to admit. “Maybe I just like walking here.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pushing off the fountain and gliding closer to him. “Or maybe you’re just curious. Wondering how we keep beating you guys.”

Eric’s jaw tightened. “It’s not about that.”

“Sure it’s not.” She tilted her head, her smile teasing. “But I get it. You want to know what makes us special, right?”

He didn’t respond, but the look on his face must have given something away, because she laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s not some big secret, you know. People like what they like. Maybe MiMi’s just… isn’t their thing anymore.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he felt that familiar surge of frustration. But then he remembered what Kevin had said—about seeing her as more than just the competition. And despite the teasing, there was something almost… sincere in her voice. Like she wasn’t trying to rub it in. Just stating a fact.

“Why do you care so much about beating us?” Eric asked suddenly, surprising even himself.

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. She hesitated, skating in a small circle before answering. “I don’t know. I guess it’s not really about beating you guys. It’s just… I want to do well. You know?”

Eric nodded slowly, though he wasn’t sure he fully understood. Y/N wasn’t what he expected. She wasn’t just the enemy, the rival diner owner trying to take them down. She was someone who cared about what she did, just like he did.

But that didn’t change the fact that their businesses were in direct competition.

“So, what’s next?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. “You guys rolling out new shakes or something?”

Y/N’s smile returned, this time with a hint of pride. “Actually, yeah. You’ll have to come by and try one sometime.”

Eric gave her a look. “You really think I’m going to set foot in your diner?”

She shrugged, turning to skate away. “You never know. Maybe one day you’ll be curious enough.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back at MiMi’s, things were getting worse. The new shake specials had drawn even more customers away, and by the end of the week, they were barely scraping by. Eric could feel the weight of the situation every time he walked through the door. It was like a cloud that hung over the diner, growing heavier with each passing day.

MiMi wasn’t talking about it, but Eric could see the worry in her eyes every time she counted the register at the end of the day. Even Kevin had started to look more serious, his usual joking attitude replaced with something more somber.

One evening, after a particularly slow shift, MiMi pulled Eric aside as they were closing up. “I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly, her hands wringing together nervously. “Maybe it’s time to… consider some changes.”

Eric frowned. “What do you mean?”

MiMi hesitated, glancing around the empty diner before lowering her voice. “I’ve been thinking about selling.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Selling? You can’t be serious.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Eric, we can’t keep going like this. We’re losing money every day. If things don’t turn around soon, I’m going to have to close up shop.”

Eric felt a surge of panic. MiMi’s was more than just a diner to him—it was home. It was the place he had grown up in, the place where he had made countless memories. He couldn’t imagine life without it.

“There’s got to be another way,” he said, his voice more desperate than he intended. “We can’t give up.”

MiMi sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to save this place, Eric. But sometimes… sometimes it’s out of our hands.”

Eric didn’t know what to say. He just stood there, the weight of her words sinking in, making everything feel even more impossible.

Eric didn’t sleep much that night. MiMi’s words echoed in his head, and every time he closed his eyes, he could see the neon lights of The Midnight Shake flashing like a warning. Selling? That idea gnawed at him, twisting his gut in knots. MiMi’s Diner was too important to just let go. He had to figure something out.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next morning, Eric dragged himself into the diner, trying to shake off the heavy feeling from the night before. As usual, Kevin was already there, his upbeat attitude grating in a way that usually wasn’t so bad.

“You look like you got run over by a truck,” Kevin said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Late night?”

Eric rubbed his eyes, sighing. “MiMi’s talking about selling.”

Kevin paused mid-sip, his expression sobering. “What? She can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” Eric grabbed a towel and wiped down the counter, trying to channel his frustration into something productive. “We’ve got to figure out how to turn this around.”

Kevin set his mug down, leaning against the counter. “Have you thought about… doing something drastic?”

Eric glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “Drastic like what?”

Kevin grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You know… sabotage.”

“Sabotage?” Eric repeated, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

Kevin shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like they’re playing fair. They’ve been stealing our customers for weeks.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “We’re not stooping to that level, Kev.”

Kevin’s grin widened. “Fine, fine. But you can’t deny that it’d be fun.”

Eric shook his head, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Kevin was ridiculous, but at least he kept things from getting too heavy.

Their conversation was interrupted when MiMi walked in, her usual upbeat demeanor noticeably absent. She gave them both a tired smile, her eyes reflecting the strain of the last few weeks.

“We’re gonna get through this,” Eric said, more to convince himself than her.

MiMi smiled weakly, but didn’t say anything. She just busied herself with the morning routine, and for a moment, the diner fell into an uneasy silence.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Days passed, and the tension between MiMi’s and The Midnight Shake only grew. Word about their rivalry was spreading around town, and customers were starting to take sides. Some were loyal to MiMi’s, citing nostalgia and history, while others raved about the “fresh energy” at The Midnight Shake.

It didn’t help that the rivalry had started spilling over into more than just business. Flyers from The Midnight Shake were mysteriously appearing in MiMi’s parking lot, and rumors were swirling that someone from their team had been badmouthing MiMi’s to customers.

Eric hadn’t set foot in The Midnight Shake again, but he didn’t need to. He could feel the tension in the air, almost like it was personal now. And maybe, in a way, it was. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/N was involved in some way, even if he didn’t have any proof.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next time Eric ran into Y/N, it wasn’t in the park. It was purely by accident, at a small grocery store on the edge of town. He had been reaching for a carton of strawberries when she appeared on the other side of the display, her neon jacket standing out like a beacon.

They both froze for a moment, eyes locking across the strawberries. Then Y/N smiled—though it wasn’t her usual teasing grin. It was more like a challenge.

“Well, well, well,” she said, crossing her arms. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. “I could say the same.”

She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You buying ingredients to make your shakes better?”

Eric didn’t bite, though part of him wanted to. “Maybe I just like strawberries.”

“Sure,” she said, though the teasing lilt was back in her voice. “You should try one of ours sometime.”

He placed the carton of strawberries in his basket, ignoring her suggestion. “No thanks. I’m not a fan of your diner.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place. “I could’ve guessed that.”

The exchange was casual enough, but there was an underlying tension that Eric couldn’t ignore. Every time they spoke, it felt like they were circling around something—something neither of them was quite willing to say out loud. Maybe it was the rivalry. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

“What’s it like over there?” Eric found himself asking before he could stop himself.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Over where?”

“The Midnight Shake. What’s it like running the place?”

She hesitated for a moment, like she hadn’t expected the question. Then she shrugged. “It’s busy. Chaotic, most days. But it’s fun.”

Eric nodded slowly, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting her to say. “And the rivalry? Is that fun, too?”

Y/N’s smile faded slightly, and for a moment, something like regret flashed across her face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by her usual smirk. “What can I say? I like a good challenge.”

Eric didn’t respond, but his mind was spinning with questions he didn’t have the courage to ask. There was more to Y/N than he had realized, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that their rivalry was more complicated than just business.

As they parted ways, Eric couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting. The tension between MiMi’s and The Midnight Shake wasn’t going away anytime soon, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface. Something he wasn’t quite ready to face yet.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back at MiMi’s, the rivalry only continued to escalate. Flyers and rumors were one thing, but it didn’t take long for things to get more direct. One afternoon, a customer came into MiMi’s, their voice low as they leaned over the counter.

“You hear about what they’re saying at The Midnight Shake?” the man asked, his tone conspiratorial.

Eric frowned. “What do you mean?”

The man lowered his voice even more. “They’re saying MiMi’s is on its last legs. That it’s only a matter of time before you guys shut down for good.”

A surge of anger flared in Eric’s chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

The man nodded, tossing a few dollars on the counter before heading out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Kevin appeared at Eric’s side, his expression serious for once.

“Did you hear that?” Kevin asked, his voice tight with frustration.

Eric nodded, gritting his teeth. “Yeah. I heard.”

“They’re spreading lies about us now? That��s low, even for them.”

Eric’s jaw clenched as he thought back to his conversation with Y/N. Could she really be behind this? He had started to think there was more to her than just the competition, but now… now he wasn’t so sure.

Kevin punched his palm, clearly itching for a fight. “We should do something about this.”

Eric shook his head. “We’re not going to stoop to their level.”

Kevin threw his hands up in frustration. “Then what are we going to do, Eric? Just sit here and let them run us into the ground?”

Eric didn’t have an answer. All he knew was that the rivalry was growing uglier by the day, and if they didn’t figure out a way to turn things around soon, MiMi’s might not survive.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The following days at MiMi’s Diner felt like they were running on borrowed time. The rivalry between the two diners was at an all-time high, with rumors flying, subtle sabotage at play, and tensions running hot. Kevin’s attempts to keep things upbeat were faltering, and even MiMi was starting to lose the spark that once defined her.

Eric had kept his distance from The Midnight Shake, trying to focus on helping MiMi’s survive. But it was impossible to ignore the lingering thoughts of Y/N. He wanted to believe she wasn’t the type to spread lies or play dirty, but every day there were new rumors—new hits to MiMi’s reputation that seemed to come directly from their rivals.

On the fifth day, Eric was in the middle of prepping tables for the evening shift when MiMi stepped out from the back, holding a letter in her hand. Her face was pale, her hands shaking slightly.

“We’ve got trouble,” she said quietly, handing the letter to Eric.

He took it, unfolding the paper to reveal an official notice. MiMi’s was being sued by The Midnight Shake for defamation. The letter claimed that MiMi’s had been spreading false information about their business practices, accusing them of theft and underhanded tactics. It was a legal nightmare.

Eric’s stomach sank. “This can’t be real…”

MiMi nodded slowly. “I wish it weren’t. But they’ve got a case. Someone’s been spreading rumors about them, and they’re pinning it on us.”

Kevin stormed over, looking furious. “They can’t do this! We haven’t spread any rumors—if anything, they’ve been doing it to us!”

Eric clenched the letter in his hand. “We need to talk to them. To Y/N.”

Later that evening, Eric found himself standing outside The Midnight Shake, the neon lights casting an eerie glow on the sidewalk. His heart was pounding as he pushed open the door, stepping into enemy territory for the second time.

The diner was packed, but amidst the crowd, he spotted Y/N behind the counter, pouring strawberry milkshakes with practiced ease. She looked up, and their eyes met across the room. There was a flicker of surprise in her gaze, but she quickly masked it with her usual smirk.

Eric approached the counter, his anger barely contained. “We need to talk.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, motioning for him to follow her into the back.

Once they were out of earshot of the customers, Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “What’s this about?”

Eric handed her the letter, his voice tight with frustration. “Your diner is suing us.”

Y/N unfolded the paper, her expression unreadable as she scanned the contents. “I didn’t know about this.”

Eric crossed his arms, trying to control his anger. “Didn’t know? Your diner is accusing us of spreading rumors and defamation. You’re ruining MiMi’s.”

Y/N met his gaze, and for a moment, something vulnerable flashed in her eyes. “Eric, I swear, this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want it to go this far.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?” Eric asked, his voice sharper than he intended. “You’ve been playing this rivalry game for weeks. You’ve been part of this—fueling the tension, the competition.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I never thought it would get like this. It was just supposed to be business, you know? A bit of fun competition. But… I guess it spiraled out of control.”

Eric studied her, searching for any sign of deception. But for the first time since they’d met, Y/N looked genuinely conflicted, like she hadn’t meant for things to go this far.

“I don’t know if I can fix this,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “The owner… she’s not someone who backs down easily. Once she smells blood in the water, she goes for the kill.”

Eric shook his head, his frustration mixing with disappointment. “This isn’t just a game, Y/N. MiMi’s is like family to me. If we lose the diner, it’s over for us.”

Y/N bit her lip, clearly wrestling with her thoughts. “Maybe… maybe there’s something we can do. Together.”

Eric frowned. “What do you mean?”

She straightened up, her expression determined. “I’ll talk to the owner. I’ll convince her to drop the lawsuit. But in return… we need to make peace between the diners. End the rivalry for good.”

Eric’s heart raced at the idea. “And what if it doesn’t work?”

Y/N’s eyes softened slightly as she met his gaze. “It has to work. For both of us.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next few days were tense, but Y/N stayed true to her word. She spoke with her boss, negotiating behind the scenes to drop the lawsuit and repair the damage that had been done between the two diners. Meanwhile, Eric worked to keep MiMi’s running, doing everything in his power to keep customers coming in.

It wasn’t easy. But slowly, things began to shift.

One evening, Y/N walked into MiMi’s for the first time since their rivalry had started. She didn’t wear her usual bright neon jacket or rollerblades. Instead, she looked almost subdued, a quiet determination in her eyes as she approached the counter where Eric was standing.

“Truce?” she asked, offering a small smile.

Eric studied her for a moment before nodding. “Truce.”

There was a long pause between them, the weight of the rivalry still lingering in the air. But something else had shifted, too—something unspoken, simmering beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said quietly. “For everything. I never wanted things to get so out of hand.”

Eric’s expression softened, his anger fading. “I’m sorry too. I guess I let it get personal.”

Y/N smiled, a genuine smile this time. “Well, we did start off as enemies.”

“Maybe we don’t have to stay that way,” Eric said, his voice softer than he expected.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Maybe not.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The rivalry between MiMi’s and The Midnight Shake wasn’t completely over, but it had changed. It was no longer about tearing each other down—it was about healthy competition. And through it all, Eric and Y/N found themselves growing closer, their animosity giving way to something neither of them had expected.

Maybe, just maybe, their story was only beginning. It had become routine—at least, it felt like it. Most evenings, when their shifts ended, Y/N would lace up her skates and glide around the block. Sometimes, she’d spot Eric leaning against a nearby lamppost, his arms crossed, a smug smile playing on his lips.

She tried to act annoyed when he popped up, but truthfully, she’d grown accustomed to the sight of him. He was always there, waiting to walk her home or invite her out for coffee.

Tonight was no different. Y/N spotted him from across the street, and before she could tell him to leave, he was already walking toward her with a familiar ease.

“You’re getting predictable,” Y/N teased, pushing herself forward on her skates.

“Is that a bad thing?” Eric asked, falling in step beside her.

She shrugged playfully. “Depends.”

“On what?” Eric glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“On whether or not you’re buying the coffee this time,” Y/N smirked.

Eric chuckled. “I think I can manage that.”

They wandered through the dimly lit streets, the evening air crisp as they sipped their drinks. Y/N was keenly aware of how natural it felt—this strange routine of theirs. The banter wasn’t quite as sharp as before, and though she’d never admit it out loud, she was beginning to enjoy his company.

As they reached the small park near her home, Eric slowed down, staring at the ground as if he was deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind, Sohn?” Y/N asked, noticing his sudden silence.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began slowly, his voice soft, “about how much time we’ve been spending together.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. “What about it?”

“I don’t know… I guess I never thought we’d get along. Not after how things started.” He smiled at her, a little sheepishly this time, without his usual cocky edge.

Y/N stopped skating, turning to face him fully. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think I’d ever tolerate you either,” she admitted with a smirk, trying to lighten the moment. “But here we are.”

They shared a brief laugh, but it quickly faded into a comfortable quiet. Y/N wasn’t sure when it happened—when the annoyance she felt toward Eric melted into something warmer, softer. Maybe it had been gradual, over the course of their accidental meet-ups. Maybe it was the way he’d become more thoughtful, less insufferable. Either way, she didn’t hate him anymore.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Days passed, and soon, what began as a nightly tradition of walking home together grew into something more. Their conversations were no longer filled with competition or sarcasm; instead, they talked about their lives, their dreams, and the things they cared about beyond their rival diners.

One Friday, after work, Eric showed up outside The Midnight Shake, hands in his pockets, waiting for her like always. But tonight, there was something different in his demeanor.

“You’re here again?” Y/N teased, stepping out of the diner, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Surprised?” Eric quipped, flashing that familiar grin.

“Not at all. You’ve been here more than my regulars,” she joked, her voice laced with something lighter than the irritation she used to feel around him.

He glanced up at the sky, then back at her, his expression thoughtful. “I was thinking… how about we go somewhere different tonight?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Different?”

“Yeah. There’s a new place that just opened downtown. Thought maybe we could check it out,” he suggested casually, but there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

Y/N hesitated, but the idea of spending more time with him—even outside of their usual routine—was strangely appealing. “Sure, why not?”

The restaurant was quaint, nestled in the heart of downtown, far from their diners and the usual rivalry they were used to. It was dimly lit, with fairy lights strung across the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the tables. They found a booth near the back, and as they sat down, Y/N realized something she hadn’t before: this felt suspiciously like a date.

They ordered dinner, and the conversation flowed easily, like it always did these days. They laughed about work, shared stories about their childhoods, and talked about their favorite things—things they hadn’t thought to share before. But as the night went on, Y/N found herself growing more aware of the way Eric looked at her. His gaze wasn’t challenging or competitive like it used to be. It was… soft.

It wasn’t until the waiter brought them the check that Y/N froze, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t just two people hanging out. This was a date.

And judging by the way Eric was smiling at her, he realized it too.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next morning, Y/N entered The Midnight Shake with a sense of unease. Last night had been… something. Something unexpected, and something she wasn’t quite ready to admit to herself. But as soon as she stepped behind the counter, her unease grew tenfold—because sitting in one of the booths was Kevin, grinning at her like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“Morning, Y/N!” Kevin called out, far too cheerful for this early in the day.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion as she adjusted her apron.

“Oh, you know, just grabbing a shake before my shift at MiMi’s,” Kevin said nonchalantly. But then he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, how was your date last night?”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “It wasn’t a date,” she said quickly, too quickly.

Kevin raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. “Really? Because that’s not what I heard. Eric wouldn’t stop talking about it this morning.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “He… he did?”

“Yup. And I gotta say, he looked pretty happy about it.”

She swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. Kevin wasn’t one to let things go, and she knew that if she didn’t leave this conversation soon, he’d start prying even more.

“I’ve got work to do,” Y/N muttered, grabbing a tray and heading to the back.

But even as she busied herself with the orders, Kevin’s words echoed in her mind. Eric wouldn’t stop talking about it. Maybe it had been a date, after all.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A few days passed, and while Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and Eric, she tried to ignore it. She had bigger things to worry about—like her mom, who had been asking more and more questions about where she’d been spending her free time.

It wasn’t until one particularly busy evening at The Midnight Shake that everything came crashing down.

Y/N was in the middle of making a strawberry milkshake when her mom walked into the kitchen, her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face.

“We need to talk,” her mom said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N set down the blender, turning to face her. “About what?”

“About Eric,” her mom said bluntly.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. “Eric?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. I’ve seen you two together. I know he works at MiMi’s. And I know that you’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. “Mom, it’s not—”

Her mom held up a hand, silencing her. “I don’t care if he’s a nice guy. I don’t care if he’s the sweetest boy in the world. He works for our competition. And you know how I feel about MiMi’s.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. She had known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“I… I really like him,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you don’t like MiMi’s, but Eric isn’t just a rival. He’s… he’s different.”

Her mom’s expression softened slightly, but she still looked conflicted. “Y/N, I don’t want you getting hurt. The rivalry between our diners is more than just business—it’s personal. You know that.”

“I know,” Y/N said quickly, “but this isn’t about the diners. It’s about me and Eric. And I need you to trust me on this.”

There was a long pause as her mom considered her words. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “If you really care about him, I won’t stand in your way. But you better make sure he’s worth it.”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. “He is, Mom. I promise.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next time Y/N saw Eric, she didn’t hesitate. She found him at MiMi’s, leaning against the counter like he always did, and without thinking, she marched up to him.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice steady.

Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her sudden assertiveness. “About what?”

“About us.”

Eric blinked, setting down the order he was working on. “Us?”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking… about everything. About how much time we’ve spent together. About how much I’ve grown to care about you.”

Eric’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. “Y/N…”

“And I realized something,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been going on dates this whole time. Haven’t we?”

Eric smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “Yeah. We have.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart swelling with emotion. “So, let’s make it official. Eric… will you be my boyfriend?”

Eric’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight hug. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. The rivalry between their diners might never end, but at least they had found something worth fighting for—each other.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A/N: I’m on a writing streak, so sangyeon’s part will be out at the end of the week.

＼（＾▽＾）／

Taglist: @deoboyznet @a-dream-bookmark

[lilrambo-shooter]

Over-analyzing the Phantom Thieves' escape from the Final Palace [SPOILERS]

Hopefully this hasn't been done already. If so, oh well, it was fun for me, who just finished their first playthrough last month.

This post has spoilers for the true ending of Persona 5 Royal.

Ok, I have thought about the animated cutscene of the PTs escaping Maruki's crumbling palace more than I thought I would. There's the memes of Goro's (possible?) last words being a complaint about being crushed by 5 women, the worry of the PTs when Joker lets go of the rope, etc etc.

One thing I kept going back to, though, was how we end up with the comic relief of Goro ending up at the floor of the Mona Copter.

So let's start from the beginning of their escape. The palace is crumbling, and the PTs are seemingly stranded on an island of rubble, with no way out. Morgana then urges everyone to hop into the Mona Car:

(Forgive the crappy screen pics, my PlayStation doesn't like 3rd sem stuff)

So the first thing we see is Haru leaning up to the window, with just a hint of Goro's outfit in the bottom right corner.

The next thing is a shot of the whole bus:

Two things: 1. Out of the two pictures, there's no sign of Futaba! 2. Where does this put Haru and Goro? Well, both of these questions have the same answer: In the far back!

One thing about the Mona Bus's design I never quite realized with my playthrough of vanilla P5 years ago was that there are seats running perpendicular to the first two rows. Based on the angle of the first image with Haru, we can see the back of the seats from the second row. For Goro, there is a few frames in which he is seen in the back:

Therefore, we can surmise this setup:

But what about Futaba? Even though it's from a previous cutscene and different escape attempt, we can see that the layout of the characters is the same, with the addition of Futaba in the back:

So that's what it's like for seating arraignments in the Mona Bus. What about the Mona Copter? The first shot we get of everyone sans Joker gives us Goro's comic relief:

We can see that all five of our pretty thief gals are up front, Goro squished on the floor, Ryuji and Yusuke in the back, and Joker hangin' on down below. It seems pretty packed. Goro's got a point, Mona! Or does he? Time to hit the Thieves' Den!

It's slightly different on the inside compared to the cutscene, but the layout seems to be the same. We don't get a good look at the back, so let's look at that:

Hmm, a good amount of open space! But wait, there's more! As it turns out, there's even more space in the back.

Based on this, here's the sketch of the Mona Copter's layout:

What's the deal!? There seems to be plenty of space! How did the Mona Copter become so front-heavy? We can see that the characters' arraignments are generally the same, save for the fact that Haru, Futaba, and Goro moved to the front, and Joker straight up just doesn't get put inside. Now, I'm no expert of the Metaverse, but I'd like to imagine that if Mona suddenly poofed from a bus to a helicopter, our PTs wouldn't so wildly get thrown about. Plus, we can see in a later part of the cutscene, when Maruki decides to make his final stand, that there is implied to be more room in the back with Ryuji and Yusuke:

Here we see Makoto grabbing the edge of the seats in the front, and Ryuji and Yusuke bracing on their respective sides. It's quite odd how they ended up like this.

My takeaway? Other than the fact that this whole post is ridiculous? Something happened mid-transformation. Maybe things didn't happen as instantly as we think, or the Mona Copter teetered around as Mona regained balance. Or both! Let's say they all began to fall forward as the Mona Bus began to fall right before the transformation. Those in the second row would have the seat in front of them to brace on, while the three in the front could brace on the dashboard. Meanwhile, Futaba, Haru, and Goro have a lot more space in the back to fumble around in. With the loss of seats in the Mona Copter, it's perfectly possible that while transforming, the three in the back lost balance, tumbled to the front, and Goro just happened to be the unlucky one. I'm going to be honest, I have no clue on what that means for Joker.

This whole bit with the Mona Copter was most definitely just for the gag; moreover, we can just say it's Mona giving Joker a good view of Goro, who Mona knows is most likely going to vanish when all is said and done. Doing his bestie a favor and acting as a wingman, eh? The front's glass only goes so far along the bottom the the Mona Copter, and Goro is busy taking up all of it, rendering the sight of Joker only visible to him, Ryuji, and Yusuke.

So yea, do what you wish with this information, I don't care. I just wanted to express my thoughts about this whack ass cutscene lmao

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Leave it by Degrees #6

The unhinged love story loosely based on Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost that I can't get out of my head.

Synopsis: "What have we done?"

Post in AO3 from here!

Previous chapter from here

Benedict was at the entrance of Out of The Blue at 19:00 sharp. Being led by a six seat table in the terrace, he had to chuckle seeing Sophie Beckett wearing the same navy suit with a white collar shirt, while the other ladies sat next to her were respectfully in their holidays attires; one in a teal colored summer dress, the other in a pink floral A-line.The restaurant was placed at the end of the island, on one of the seaside Villas, and Benedict silently observed the three musketeers from a distance; the two girls were absolutely dazed by the sunset before them, while the other seemed to be completely focused on the small bucket of breadsticks before them. Somehow Benedict couldn’t take his eyes off the girl who sat at the edge of the table, her short brown curls waving in the ocean breeze, the sunset giving her a radiant gleam. The absolute fascination, joy, and wonder on her face ticked something inside him, as if a certain gear had been reattached to their place in his anatomy. 

“I love that you are more invested in the scenery than me, Ms. Beckett.”  He grinned as he slid into the seat in front of her. Her moss green eyes hardened as her gaze met his, Benedict felt a lump in his throat. Didn’t she want him, like she whispered last night? That she needed him?  Quite honestly, her heated gaze last night was the only thing that he decided to join the dinner, to perhaps grab her offer when she was not, well, heavily drugged. Well, maybe not just her gaze, Benedict secretly thought to himself as he again sized her up over her suit of armor. Yes.Perfect. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” Sophie gave a brief nod, “Thank you for coming. This is Posy Reiling, she would be negotiating the deal…”

Posy gave a little cough. 

“…This is my step sister. Posy.” 

“Nice to meet you, thank you so much for saving my sister.” Posy smiled sweetly, “Please, call me Posy.” 

“Posy, nice to meet you…”

But just as he was about to shake his hand, there was a huge crashing sound from the back, followed by a small yelp. Benedict was quite surprised to see Hugh Woodson collapsed on the wooden floor, papers and papers of Emails dancing around the air, his laptop screen miserably cracked in two. 

“Hugh, are you all right?”

Benedict hurried from his seat, reaching out to help him, but he was a second late. Hugh was already taking Posy’s hand, with a dreamlike daze in his eyes he had never seen before. 

“Are you hurt?” Posy peered into Hugh’s brown eyes, her neck craning up to match his lean figure, “I’m terribly sorry about your laptop.”

“I, I…I’m…Huu, Hu…”

“Hugh.” Posy smiled sweetly, shaking his shivering hand. “I’m Posy.”

The whole universe stopped for just a second, the orange sunset shining from the distance between them. As if everything was in slow motion, Benedict watched Hugh’s pale face turn into the same shade as the sky before them. 

“P, Posy.” He stuttered, “My sister loves Posies. We, we have a patch in our gardens,” Hugh was still shaking Posy’s hand, his glasses almost slipping out from the bridge of his nose . “The, the most beautiful flower in the universe, in my opinion…”

The three watched in awe as Posy’s cheeks turned into a deep shade of crimson, and Hugh wrapped both of his hands into hers.

“Y, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

“Thank you, Hugh.” 

“I, I, I…I fell for you.” 

“You fell for me?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Both Sophie and Benedict snorted sparkling water out from her nostrils. Kate casually took a bite of a breadstick, almost as if she were watching a rom-com on a Friday night. 

“Was it just me or did I just hear a love declaration?”

Benedict sputtered, not quite processing the scene that laid before him, and by the flabbergasted look from Sophie, he knew she had the exact same reaction. 

“I’m afraid I heard it too.”

Hugh, still grasping Posy’s hand into his, fell into one knee, his usually wandering eyes looking straight into Posy’s blue ones, with fervent passion Benedict had never seen on him. 

“I am in love with you.”

“Oh,” 

“Wow.” 

“Damn”

“Posy, will you marry me?”

“Should I stop him?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Benedict quickly peeled Hugh from the floor (“But I haven’t got her answer!” He cried out. “But Hugh, you don’t even know her full name!”), also picking up the papers on the floor. Sophie quickly joined him, but when the two raised their heads, the couple was already seated at the table shoulder to shoulder, happily giggling over a cup of lemonade. Barely five minutes have passed but they were already like a couple on the honeymoon faze. 

“Well, that was quick.” 

“I know.” Sophie softly said. “But it was quite beautiful, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Benedict smiled, taking a stack of paper from Sophie’s hands. “It’s not everyday you get to see people fall in love,”

“Just like a movie,”

“So, you wish for romance as well, Ms. Beckett?”

“Well, that’s a rather private question don’t you think?” Sophie eyed him wearily but Benedict didn’t miss her ears turning slightly red. 

“Worth a try,” He quipped with a small wink, “Do you think your step sister said yes to Hughs proposal?”

“Oh I literally have no idea.”

“So Hugh. Are we hearing wedding bells tonight?”

Hugh completely ignored Benedict’s question, his chocolate eyes entirely focused on Posy and Posy only. 

“We are starting from friends, actually,” Posy replied, but her eyes never left Hugh, dripping with the same dreamily look. “But Hugh was telling me about the beautiful cathedral nearby, and the one built over the sea…”  

Sophie slid into the seat next to Kate, flinching slightly as Benedict casually seated himself next to her. 

“I was rather hoping that you would sit on the other side.” Sophie said hesitantly. 

“Wouldn’t want to disturb the two loves birds, would you?” 

“Well, yes, but if you’re not going to…” Sophie's words trailed off, noticing that there was still an empty seat. “Mr. Bridgerton, I’m wondering,”

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” Benedict replied gallantly, looking at the watch, “I think he’s just finished his third rotation of meditation.”

Kate choked on her glass of wine. 

“Excuse me,” Kate coughed, “Went the wrong way. So the rumor is true. The Great Anthony Bridgerton truly on a cleanse?”

“Whistledown does it again,” Benedict replied sarcastically. “I can’t figure out why she’s so obsessed with us.”

“I personally think she’s more besotted with Colin Bridgerton,” Benedict was surprised to see Sophie with a playful smile on her lips. “She seems to know every location your brother is at, now matter how far corner of the world he could be.”

“You are quite an observer, Ms. Beckett.”

Sophie blushed for the first time that night, not being able to quite look back into Benedict's eyes. 

“This one is actually obsessed with Whistledown.” Kate quipped from her seat with a teasing grin. 

“Katie!”

“Actually, Sophie clips all the photos of you from Whistledown, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“Posy!” 

“That’s a pleasant surprise.” Benedict couldn’t suppress a smirk, seeing Sophie’s face change deeper and deeper into a shade of crimson. Yes, he knew that she liked him, “What part of me intrigues your attention, Ms. Beckett?”

“It’s work related,” Sophie mumbled, slightly squirming in her seat. “Nothing personal.” 

“Oh, then do you clip every photo of my dear brothers? For research purposes?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Then I am flattered,” Benedict tried to snake his right hand to her waist, inching closer to Sophie, “Anything it was about me, what caught your attention is a good thing, I believe…” But he gave a miserable yelp, feeling a sharp pain on the back of his hand. 

“Hands off, Bridgerton.”

A pair of sharp brown eyes were glaring at Benedict, eyeing him suspiciously behind Sophie’s shoulders. 

“I believe we haven’t been introduced.” Benedict managed to croak out despite the striking pain. 

“I believe so,.” Kate smiled elegantly, her hands were delicate despite the enormous strength she demonstrated a few seconds earlier, “Kate. Kathani Sharma. Sophie’s friend from uni. I’m here as her guardian and moral support.”

“Ben. Nice to meet you.” Benedict shook her hand. “Which uni are you two from? My brother and I are from Oxford by the way…”

“YOU.”

Benedict turned his head and saw his brother in his green Khaki pants and a white line shirt, the mixed expression of shock and amusement in his brother’s usually stoic expression. 

“Brother! You missed the beautiful proposal from Woodson…” But Benedict was then interrupted by the last person he had imagined, Kate Sharma. 

“YOU!”

Kate pushed the glass in Sophie’s hands, her posture suddenly became rigid, the corner of the lips tightening. 

Not a good sign, Sophie thought. 

“YOU are Anthony Bridgerton?”

Anthony’s lips turned into a slight grin. 

“You didn’t notice me?”

“Why would I notice you?”

“Well, I am quite famous.” Anthony took a seat next to Hugh, puffing his chests as he seated himself deeply in the chair. Kate scoffed at his words, crossing her arms with a frown. 

“So you’re not only deficient but ignorant as well.” Kate rolled her eyes, “Just as I imagined…”

“Hold it right there. What part of me is exactly deficient…”

“Wait, Katie, you’ve met Anthony Bridgerton before?” 

“He’s the aggravating man I told you this morning!” 

“Ohhhh the guy on the running course? Why didn’t you tell me that guy was Anthony Bridgerton?”

“Why in the hell would I notice him? He was in shorts and sunglasses, he didn’t have the gorgeous sideburns I saw in Whistledown…”

“Oh so you liked my sideburns?” Anthony replied with a smirk. “I’m surprised that those were the only things that caught your mind.” 

“I was being sarcastic, Mr. Bridgerton. Do you need an introduction to dry humor?”

“You didn’t seem so dry this morning actually,.” 

“Brother?” 

“Sophs, remind me to add the word pervert in his wikipedia page,” Kate took a swig of wine from the bottle, (“Katie!” Sophie yelped.) “The world deserves to know that as a fact. And by the way, other than the sideburns, nothing about you was even remotely memorable.” 

“Why don’t we step away from the topic of sideburns?” Benedict smoothly interjected, seeing the color slowly drain from Sophie, “Any preferences on the drinks? The drinks from the bar are exceptionally good…” But Benedict was interrupted yet again by his very brother. Well, his brother would die to have the last word in the argument, he mindlessly thought. 

“Well, I would add infuriating at the top of your characteristic traits but I don’t suppose you even have a wiki page. Wouldn’t want to put useless effort in even searching your name.”

“Oh infuriating would be on top of your resume, Mr. Bridgerton. Seeing how you repeatedly kept going over my pace in the course this morning, I’m shocked those words weren't tattooed on your forehead!”

“YOU were the one overtaking me!” Hearing his irritated tone; Benedict was surprised he didn’t see Anthony jabbing his finger towards Kate Sharma, “You kept interfering with MY pace which I was specifically set at eight kilometers an hour.”

“Is mathematics such a difficult subject for you?” Kate snared, “From where I saw, you were definitely NOT running at eight kilometers an hour. I would barely define it jogging, considering your pace.”

“My apple watch specifically says that I was keeping a stable speed…”

“I thought you were on a digital-free holiday,” Kate raised her eyebrows, “Already breaking your oath, Mr. Bridgerton? Never considered you as a weakling,”

“Katie. Katie Cat.” Sophie tried to tug her back to her seat. “You do realize that you are snapping at the head CEO of Audrey Cooperation…”

“His social standing in society doesn’t mean that he gets the special license to be a total dickhead!” 

“Katie!” Sophie froze in horror, but Benedict had an amused smile on his lips, as if he were enjoying the verbal slander his elder brother was getting. Posy and Hugh were apparently still on the topic of the best wedding cakes. 

“I personally think lemon and raspberries are the best combination,”

“I agree with every word you say, Posy,”

“YOU don’t have any right to call me a dickhead,” 

“Well, I disagree with everything you say,” Kate replied. “I find it difficult to find any other description.” 

“I rather thought of you as delusional,” Anthony snared, “Suddenly walking and suddenly sprinting in the road, don’t tell me that was ordinary behavior…”

“Let me teach you the interval running method, Mr. Bridgerton,”

“I’m already well versed in the area.”

“Then you must know that short bursts of high intensity triggers mechanisms in the body that enhance the burning of the fat, building of the muscle…”

“Improvement in the cardiovascular system, yes I know that.”

“So you do know that by using the interval method your Vo2 max improves two times faster than the regular run,” 

“Speed is no guarantee of efficiency.”

“Well, stability doesn’t exactly bring the thrill does it?” Sipping red wine from her glass, Kate crossed her legs, exposing her glowing legs from the slit of shimmery teal summer dress. and Benedict could swear he heard his brother's sanity shatter into pieces. 

“I…I…I don’t exercise for the thrill.”

“You don’t surprise me, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“I’d rather focus on endurance, stamina, strength, rather than thrill.”

“Really? I doubt that you can last the first six minutes of my routine, considering the speed you consider as running.”

“You’ll be surprised what I can do in  6 minutes,”

“Um, Brother?”

“Don’t believe you.”

“Katie?”

“Won’t need a minute to make you beg.”

“Brother !."

“Prove it.”

“Kate!”

“Oh, Hugh, I would love to meet you parents tomorrow!” 

“Oh my parents are going to love you Posy, Let me pick you up at the Villa at 11:00, my mother cooks amazing dishes from….”

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from yanking all her hair from her scalp. What did she do wrong? Perhaps she shouldn’t have invited Anthony Bridgerton to the table, but she needed him to keep the dinner professional. Perhaps she shouldn't have invited Kate, but she needed her  to keep the air casual…Perhaps this situation was inevitable, her plan was conflicting all along…

“Have you noticed that my dear brother and your Katie Cat are practically eye fucking each other from the other ends of the table, Ms. Beckett?” Benedict whispered into Sophie’s ear, his deep voice sending shivers in her spine, “Bet a pound they’ll be fucking each other in 5 minutes.”

Oh how Sophie wished for a cigarette.

Despite Benedict’s predictions, Anthony and Kate did not fall into intercourse right there on the table as he had expected; rather they went further and further into disagreement. It was rather interesting, Benedict thought as he observed the complete opposite sides of the spectrum; Kate and Anthony practically barking insults at each other from the other ends of the table, while Posy and Hugh whispering endearments, sitting practically glued together in the corner. Despite having seven siblings, Benedict knew that this was the correct definition of Chaos. But thanks to the Chaos, Benedict had managed to lure Sophie Beckett to the bar, who seemed quite shaken by the whole fiasco. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Sophie asked him with a guilty look as soon as they reached the stalls. 

“No, not at all.”

“Thank you.” Sophie quickly took out a pack from her pocket, lighting one up in one swift motion. Benedict also took one as she offered him wordlessly, knowing that his brother would be too busy arguing than to notice his violation. But he was surprised how smoothly Sophie offered him a light, expertly lighting him with one settled between her lips with a glass of water in the other. 

“Heavy smoker?”

Sophie smiled weakly between puffs. “Trying to quit.”

“Yet, I never see you without one,” Benedict said teasingly, remembering how he had first seen her with a cigarette between her fingers, “But everytime I see you with one, I always feel it doesn’t suit you.”

“Because I am a woman?”

“No, no, no, no, no.” He almost dropped the ashes between his fingers. “You just give me the impression of…being innocent?” 

Sophie’s gaze averted from his, as she slowly shook her head, with somewhat of a wry smile on her lips. Benedict noticed that she had no further intent to continue the conversation, seeing how she looked out in the dark blue ocean, the surface having a mystic glow in the moonlight, her eyes dimming oceans deep. 

“Sorry about my Brother.” He blurted out, “He’s, um…sexually frustrated.”

“I also have to apologize on the behalf of my friend, especially on her language.” 

“Is she the competitive sort?”

“Very.”

“My brother as well.”

Their eyes met just for a second, both breaking out in a laugh at the same time.

“I still don’t know if we are the worst or the best matchmaker in the entire universe,” Sophie managed to wheeze out between giggles. “Hugh and Posy, yes, but Kate and your brother? I didn’t know if they were going to kiss or shoot each other in the head.”

“Definitely the best, Ms. Beckett.” Benedict laughed, “I could just see the sexual tension between the two sizzling.”

“I know!” Sophie cried out jokingly, “The sexual implications in the conversation was just killing me.” 

As the wave of laughter ceased, Sophie dropped the cigarette on the ashtray, feeling the nicotine in her blood, she finally felt she was ready to talk to one Benedict Bridgerton. 

“I wanted to say thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“For what?”

“For saving me.” 

“Oh.”

“I didn’t get a chance to say it properly, but you truly saved me from a terrible fate.” Sophie continued, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“No worries. Anyone would have done that if they were in that situation.”

“But you were the only one who noticed.”

Benedict again could return in a grunt. 

“And who stood up to help.”

“I have four sisters,” Benedict mumbled, “Just doing the right thing.”

“Not everyone has the courage to do the right thing, like you did last night.”

“Have we ever met?” Benedict asked abruptly, craning his neck slightly. “Your tone, it's oddly familiar. Do you live in London?”

Sophie’s breath hitched slightly as his piercing blue eyes met hers. “I work in the arts department in the Gunnningworth Foundation,” She managed to croak out. “Perhaps our paths might have crossed in the London gallery somewhere.” 

Benedict only hummed in response, taking another whiff of the smoke. 

“Mr. Bridgerton.” 

“Won’t you call me Benedict?”

“I’d rather keep in professional,”

Benedict groaned, tilting his whole body sideways. “Must we?” 

“Mr. Bridgerton, there is only advantages in this offer,”

“I thought this was a private dinner, Ms. Beckett, away from the foundation or the contract…”

“Wouldn’t you like to be independent from your family?”

Benedict froze, stopping dead in his tracks. 

“You have been working on your projects with the financial funding from the Audrey Cooperation for the past four years, including People Watching, your most celebrated work yet. I do understand that your brother must guarantee you the freedom of your artistic agency, but I can assure you that the Gunningworth foundation will support the same artistic freedom at higher costs.”

“Supporting my freedom?” Benedict sneered; he hated his tone, but Sophie was the one who was crossing the line, bringing up the deal when she promised him privacy, bringing up his deepest insecurities about his work and the family money… “Here you are, invading my privacy on a private holiday. Not the best action to convince me that you would support my creative freedom.”

“This is the extent to show you how the foundation is willing to support you at any costs, Mr. Bridgerton.”Sophie’s voice was quiet, but her words were firm and determined. “The foundation believes that gaining independence from your family funds may broaden your originality even more,” 

“Are you implying that my work lacks originality?”

“No.” Sophie shook her head, a slight panic appearing in her almond eyes, “I was saying that the foundation believes further potential in your works…” 

“You keep saying the Foundation.” Benedict interrupted her monologue, his eyebrows narrowed in irritation. “The foundation believes, The foundation believes…you sound like you are convincing yourself, not me.”

Sophie’s lips were curled into a straight line, biting the other bottom part of her lip. 

“Do you even like my work, Ms. Beckett?” Benedict hated the desperation in his voice, hated the fact that Sophie wasn’t answering his inquires, “You only seemed to be focused on pleasing the foundation of yours,”

“Pall Mall.”

“Pardon?”

“Pall Mall.” Sophie continued, repeating the words almost like a prayer. “Finished in the summer of 2013. Watercolor and pencil on paper. Size 31.0×43.2. Inspired by your childhood memories, the summer you spent in the countryside of Kent. The intricate details of each expression of your families. The soft pastel colors bring out the nostalgic air.”

“Ms. Beckett,”

“The Portrait of a Young Man,” Sophie closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her mind. “Completed in the spring of 2014. Winning your first Wells Art Contemporary. Oil on Canvas. Thick coating method, using the palette knife. The gray background, the dark suit almost drawn almost like a rough sketch…but the details on the face was magnificent. The right side of his eyebrows, the highlight under his eyes, each stroke of your brush creating a beautiful shade, bringing out the specific details of your brother’s expression. The absolute focus on the coloration. Now that I’ve met him in person, I can see how you managed to capture his entire aura. Size 64.1×52.8. ” 

“Sophie,”

“People Watching,” Now, Sophie couldn’t stop the words slipping out of her mouth, “The eight series of portraits created between the period of January 2015 to April of 2016. Your masterpiece,”

For the first time in years, Benedict blushed, his gaze dropping to his feet. 

“You exaggerate. It was slandered by the critics,”

“To my eyes, it was a masterpiece. You wouldn’t believe how much it saved me…” But she couldn’t quite continue her words, she didn’t know why she was suddenly on the verge of tears. Sophie raised her eyes to the sky, no she was not going to cry in front of Benedict Bridgerton. 

“You like my paintings,” Benedict softly said.

“No.” Sophie shook her head, but she couldn’t look into his eyes. “I love your paintings.”

Benedict found himself quite a loss for words. 

Sophie took a deep breath, trying to inhale every inch of air around her. “It would be the greatest honor for the foundation,” She stopped for a second, starting the sentence again, “It would be the greatest honor for me to have the opportunity to support your future works, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Sophie was finally able to look him in the eyes, his ocean blue eyes meeting with hers. The waves were still swaying, she thought, but she did noticed the change in the wind, 

“Would you like to come to my studio, Ms. Beckett…”

“SOPHIE BECKETT!”

Benedict’s offer was completely silenced by the angry voice of Kate Sharma, who had stomped into the bar with a fierce look on her face. 

“THE MOST ANNOYING MAN I HAVE EVER MET,”

“Kate, what happened? Are you all right?”

“WE ARE LEAVING, SOPHIE BECKETT.”

“Kate, I’m kind in the middle of something here…”

“I refuse to spend another second with that infuriating man,” Kate snared, taking another shot the  bartender had wordlessly offered, “Sophie Beckett, you shall not talk with Anthony Bridgerton ever again.”

Linking Sophie’s arms to hers, Kate Shama marched herself out of the bar and the restaurant, and Benedict could only stand them dumbfounded to the speed Sophie Beckett disappeared from his sight.

Did she convince him through? 

Sophie’s mind kept wandering as she stared at the ceiling, watching the five petal wooden fan move round and round in circles. She wasn’t confident if she had succeeded, but she knew that it worked somehow, seeing the change in Benedict Bridgerton’s eyes. Maybe he’ll sign the contract tomorrow. The sooner she finished the job, the faster she could get away from him, knowing that if she had to spend another hour with him, she would fall in love with him all over again, melting herself into his ardent eyes. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t make the same mistakes.  

Kate had apologized for interrupting the conversation, (“Lost my temper,” Kate admitted weakly) and had gone to a midnight run to cool off her mind. Sophie was too tired to understand what had happened between her and Anthony, but she vaguely understood that it had to do with patriarchy and toxic masculinity. Hearing Posy’s peaceful snores next to her bed, Sophie closed her eyes as well, finally noticing how exasperated she was from the events of that day.  

-6 hours later-

“Kate.”

“Sophie.”

“Remember your oath?”

“Sophs.”

“Kathani..”

“No relationships.”

“Mmm.”

“I did clearly say that.”

“Mmm.” “May I introduce you to the term, situationships…?”

[kylodendron]

We all have our fun out here on the interwebs and even with the perceived safety and anonymity sitting behind a screen provides us, when that shit bleeds over into real life, it’s rude and disrespectful at best, and can become downright dangerous at its worst.

None of this is news, fandom is always gonna fandom. Unfortunately I had to experience it first hand this weekend while seeing Hold On To Me Darling. And it wasn’t pretty.

I’m not gonna put anyone on blast by name, but I’ll just say this as a general PSA based on the behavior I experienced:

Don’t push people to move out of your way.

You chose to sit at the front of the theater in the middle of the row, and when I turned around to say something like “please stop pushing me, I can’t move even if I wanted to because there are people in front of me” as we were leaving, you were already catapulting yourself over the first row seats and pushing your way up the aisle.

Don’t record the play.

I know lots of people aren’t able to make the trip and see the show. It’s a privilege to be able to do that, especially in this economy. I am incredibly grateful that I had this opportunity to experience something I never dreamed would be possible. But recording a show, even if it’s just audio, is not only rude and disrespectful to the actors and the audience but it’s also a crime:

“New York Arts and Cultural Affairs Law § 31.01: Prohibits photographing or recording a performance without the written permission of the theater management. Offenders may be ejected and face damages and other legal remedies.

New York Penal Law § 275.33: Prohibits using a recording device in a live theater or movie theater without the permission of the theater operator. This is considered a crime and can be charged as a violation or a felony.

New York Penal Law § 275.20: Prohibits making or selling an unauthorized recording of a performance.

Penalties for illegally recording a performance can include jail time and large monetary fines.”

If anyone really needs to hear Adam put on a southern accent, they can watch Logan Lucky. But hooray for you and your internet points I guess. Congrats on the validation of internet strangers blessing you and calling you legend or queen or whatever.

You’re not as anonymous as you may think you are.

This is a very general point and good practice for anyone, but be careful and think twice about what you share online, especially on Twitter or facespace or whatever. I don’t know you. But it wasn’t hard to figure out who you are when you posted pictures from the stage door and I am in them, or from the illegal recording you posted because I can hear my own laugh.

This is a good reminder that the internet is not an invisibility cloak that lets you do whatever you want because No OnE wIlL eVeR kNoW wHo I aM. There are a lot of people out there who would not think twice about doxxing - and that is a dangerous thing for everyone.

Aside from this post, I’m not gonna say or do anything else. I mind my own business and prefer to cherish the otherwise wonderful experience I had both in watching this performance and at the stage door. I had thought to maybe share that experience but now I’m thinking twice.

And so I’ve deleted everything. My stupid little videos I made during lockdown because I couldn’t possibly have made more banana bread or that terrible whipped coffee, my illustrations, my minifigs, my remixes, photos, whatever. There’s a reason I don’t really engage in fandom - I don’t want to be associated with this type of behaviour. I’ve tried to find a little place to share my silly little things for whoever may happen to stumble across it and maybe it’ll bring them a little bit of joy. I don’t care about popularity or likes.

There’s more that I could share but I’m really not trying to get into any fandom drama bullshit. If you’re offended by this post perhaps you need to take some time and reflect on your actions and how they affect those around you.

Adam is very kind and gracious to even come to the stage door and engage with fans. He doesn’t have to do that and no one is entitled to anything from him or anyone else, except respect for others - no matter how much you paid to be there.

As a general rule, do the things that make you happy and bring you joy! Be a fangirl, support your faves. But please be respectful of others and try not to do any illegal shit while you’re at it.

[getblackout503]

Here’s chapter 11, next chapter will be the last flash back chapter before we go back to the main story.

TW: mention of abuse, some mention of gore

—————————————————————-

The penthouse was more than Amara could ever imagine, it was huge with the softest sofas she could ever dream of. Not to mention the view of the city it gave her, and as she looked around the place in wonder Dante just watched her with a smile on his face. Amara continued walking around the penthouse. She sat on the soft couch, her hands landed on the remote, turning the television on. She jumped from the surprise but soon found herself enthralled by what was on the television.

“S-sir-I mean Dante,” She started. “What is this show?”

“That is what they call a musical dear” He told her. “I believe this is the musical called Six, based off the wives of Henry the eighth”

She looked back to the screen and watched with amazement.

‘Died’

‘Jane seymour, the one he truly loved’

‘Rude’

‘When my son was newly borned, I died but I’m not what I seem, or am I? Stick around, and you’ll suddenly see more’

“Maybe I should take you to see one, you seem to enjoy them” Dante suggested .

“Really?”

“Of course my dear, anything for you” He caressed her cheek gently.

“Dante! We’re home” Amara heard a woman's voice yell out, and she turned to see Vanica Zogratis, the huntress and sadistic sister of Dante. “Oh and what do we have here?”

Amara felt a bit nervous because of the woman and her glare, but Dante made sure she would be fine by answering for her.

“Vanica, this is Amara she is going to be my woman,” He placed his hand on Amara’s shoulder. “She is going to be your new sister in law” He told his sister, who only gave a terrifying smile to the blue haired lady.

“Well, welcome the family then Sis.” She said in a very dangerous tone, but she left to her room nonetheless.

“Sorry if she scared you a bit,” Dante rubbed her back. “She can get that way at times, but she shouldn’t try anything on you”

“T-Thank you Dante, f-for saving me,” Amara told him. “I don’t know how to repay you”

“Don’t worry dear, you alone are enough payment” He told her, and while she didn’t know at the time he meant more than what he said.

Amara would soon meet Dante’s other sibling, his brother Zenon who didn’t show much emotions but sometimes he and Amara would have a cup of coffee together. Though he tended to be on business trips most if not all of the time, she also got to learn about their eldest brother, Lucius Zogratis who sadly passed away in a horrible accident. Most of Amara’s days would be spent seeing what she can do around the house to help when Dante wasn’t around, oftentimes she would spend time with Vanica though they usually ended with Vanica almost stabbing Amara and telling her all kinds of horrible things with a very crazy and love sick tone. Like the time she said she wanted to know what Amara’s guts looked like, since then she has kept her distance from the one eyed woman.

But Amara’s favorite pastime by far was that of watching musicals, and Dante knew that so he would take her to many different ones such as Hamilton, Newsies, Beetlejuice, and The Addams family. Each one filled her with wonder, the music, choreography, the energy it was all so incredible. Yet something with Dante felt off, at times when they were out in public he would stare at family and watch as the parents would laugh and hold their children with such joy and Amara knew why that was, he wanted a kid, Amara didn’t know if she was ready for a child but the more she thought of it the more she convinced herself it would be a great way to repay Dante for saving her. So one day when her and Dante were alone she brought up the topic.

“Dante?” Amara started.

“Yes dear?” Dante responded, he was seated next to her on the sofa.

“I’ve decided something”

“That being?”

“I believe it’s time I really start repaying you back” She declared.

“In what way?” He was curious now.

“It’s time we’ve had a child of our own” Amara said, and Dante was a bit taken aback but with a smirk on his face.

“Very well my dear, just be ready for the time of your life” And so began the long period of them trying to conceive a child, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and soon a year had passed, yet no child. Soon Amara started getting worried because Dante started getting aggravated with all their attempts, so much so that during their sessions he would get aggressive and rough even when she told him she didn’t like it, but he continued his aggressive actions nonetheless. Not the mention that their normal everyday life started getting worse, he would grow more frustrated with her, snapping at her for little things whether that be not wearing the clothes he chose for her, not making his coffee the way he liked it, and worst of all slapping Amara when she had refused to sleep with him one day. Never once has he hit her and sadly it wouldn’t be the last, she had to be careful with what she did, say, or even not do. And it didn’t help how his siblings started acting around her, Zenon would no longer drink coffee with her and even allowed Dante to do horrible things to her, and Vanica only upped her terrifying threats even being able to do some of them, on the account of Dante punishing Amara for nothing.

It would all only get worse when one day Dante had forced Amara to get a check up to see why they weren’t having any children, and what she was told would be the final straw for Dante. She was infertile, that’s the last thing she wanted to hear not because it devastated her but because Dante would no longer treat her like a human, no, he would treat her as a play thing, a toy to mess with, just his slave. It had been three years since Dante had saved…no…took her, and one year since her infertility was discovered, and her life has never been the same, she never went out again, never seen musicals, never even given basic human rights. She was to never be human again, destined to be a slave to a cruel man, who as she had learned was the owner of the very organization her stepmother had sold her to, and she was powerless to do anything, except escape. It wouldn’t be easy but she had too, but she had only one shot because she had studied the Zogratis family’s routine, and she had spotted her opportunity for each sunday night they would all go drink at their personal bar, in which Dante would lock Amara in their room. If she managed to unlock the door and escape then she would be free but she had one problem, if she did escape she would be hunted by them, never to know peace but luckily she had thought of that and it was brilliant, fake her own death. Simple really, she would steal one of their cars to make sure they see her but as she drives away crash the car and hope she actually survives it, simple…right?

Nonetheless she had to try, so when Sunday came she put her plan into action. Once she had confirmed they had left she picked the lock of the door using a bobby pin, sneaking through the place was pretty simple as she had marked secret passages she could use. Making her way down to the garage she chose a car she could speed up and jump out of easily, for her plan involved blowing said car up on impact so as to make it look like her body didn’t survive.

Breath in breath out.

The car started.

Breath in breath out.

She drove by the Zogratis.

Breath in breath out.

She started hitting 90 MPH.

Breath in.

She started going towards a light post.

OUT!!!!!

She jumped out of the car in time as it collided with the light post, igniting in flames as Amara ran as fast and as far as she could.

As she ran and ran Amara wondered where to go next, she soon collapsed in an alleyway, back at square one.

Alone…

“Hey kid, you good?”

[magnumdays]

Magnum PI 5.01+02 - ‘The Passenger’ + ‘The Breaking Point’ review

It’s been a while... an epic season finale, cancellation, a whole new network, lots of promotions and two amazing episodes to start the season off with. And boy did it deliver! This was the perfect start to Magnum PI and hopefully everyone felt just how fun, smart and just all around good-feel the show is and we got some new people tuning in to watch next week!

The Miggy

Let’s just start with the best part. I mean, there were a lot of great parts but for the die hard shipper, this was like dying and going to heaven. Only maybe better because I get to go back and re-watch it :P No but honestly, I was prepared to be annoyed we didn’t get some build up to actually *devil’s tango* because mostly, I think, I figured there would be a time jump. Like I thought it would have been like a week or two and we’d just not get them having their little morning after talk.

Also Magnum and Higgy in the shower bantering and kissing... I’m dead. Like did I hit my head and this is just a wild coma dream I’m having. 

(Soft morning after Higgy is just so adorable!)

My favourite part was probably them after talking “I would like to set out a few ground rules!” so Higgy. The 5.02 with Magnum making fancy toast and then Rick showing up... also a good moment. Magnum being all ‘come to the win cellar’ and prepping a date - why is there not a Thomas Magnum in my life doing stuff like this for me? I live on an island with a military base and everything!

Or maybe the whole post- sun screen lady talk “the fact that you’re bothered that I’m not bothered is starting to bother me” is so them. And the discussion ending with “I think your ego was ever so slightly bruised bruised because I trust you, implicitly’ which I think was really interesting and good point.  (And Perdie’s American accent just always cracks me up, especially when she does it to mock someone else...)

Especially with the bit we got from Jay and Perdie talking about jealously and stuff. So far Juliet is not doing anything green-eyed-monster-ish, even if there was some vibes about the manicurist but that was more of a... not surprised since I know you, is this going to be weird for us? thing but I do still feel like Thomas Magnum would be a bit jelly, him being the emotional one and all. So we shall see, perhaps it was all misdirect in that interview and we will get jealous Magnum. (Perhaps Ethan could come back for a minute and be like ‘Hi babe, I’m back, what’s up’. That would be peek drama... I mean a girl can dream right?)

Also, why was there no scene of Miggy buying the baby car seat? I need that scene and if my muse permits I will be writing the ‘deleted scene’ fic for that.

Gordon’s ‘I deserve nothing’ feels

I get where our stand up guy Gordy was coming from with this and I felt pretty good about how it’s going so far. I do hope for some dark-depressed Gordon going down the wrong path before the Ohana saves the day and makes him see what he’s doing because I do love that shit, but him deciding he want to fight to be a cop was real nice too there at the end.

The Ohana 

I was a little worried they wouldn’t nail the dynamic between everyone but so far I think it’s pretty great. Jin and TC in 5.02 was a little unexpected but I like them as weird as them as a duo was for me somehow. Jin always having new schemes is fun, but I have been wishing since like last season (I do believe It was one of my season 4 hopes) for him to actually find something he likes and is sort of midly legal and he enjoys. Like actual character development for the goofy sidekick? I know, it might be too big of an ask.

But everything from Magnum calling favours while Rick is with the baby, Kumu bartending at La Marina to give him some time, Gordon getting them their undercover gigs with the coast guard, Jin suggesting he and Juliet make babies for the good of the world, just all around the fun and good feels they all bring. I’m just hoping for some Cade too, he is coming back this season right?

The Green / Someone Out to Get the Gang storyline

Yes. 

So far that is the only thing I have to say. Just a big Yes. Someone is out the get the guys, we’re getting some seriously bad guys killing a character we’ve actually spent time with (and kind of like even if he did send our favorit boi off to get killed...)

It seems were getting straight into this if the summary for next week is anything to go by, with Magnum starting to look into Green’s death.

Just a question

My one mild dislike/question mark was the fact that the cases started off so very similar. With the whole client wanting to know the truth about their dead loved one who has died accidentally / by her own hand and then it turns out ‘wham’ not so accidental and then our favourite PIs have to find the truth.

It’s not a bad formula and we’ve had it before on the show a couple of times to be sure. Just a tiny bit weird that they were just right after each other and being so alike. Maybe they could have varied them a little by meeting the client somewhere else? Like IDK, it was just something that felt a bit same-same at the start, probably extra so because I watched them back to back.

Anyways, other than that, no complaints. 

Passenger case/story-line

This one was nice, lots of twists and turns and it all came together so very nicely at the end. New cop guy whose name escapes me seems kind of fun. Like clearly he’s going to use his two new PI ‘friends’ to do stuff he can’t get done, while also seeming like a hardass. So yeah, I’m excited. 

(So many more fun ways they could have combined Miggy and handcuffs... just saying).

I did feel like Higgy (or Perdie) was very passionate about the abused lady and I might have enjoyed that if there was some personal antidot with her helping some friend or other situation. Just to anchor it or something. It didn’t need it, it’s just I love Higgy backstory.

The lifeguard on duty case/story-line

So is there anything better than seeing Magnum squirm after putting sun screen on a random woman at the beach. Maybe seeing our babies show up rocking red swim suits, ready to save the day.

Did not 100% see the whole ‘killed to keep the secret because the boss is in on it’ thing, though boss guy seemed shady from first second on screen. Still, this one was more about just them being undercover (even if it didn’t cover that much...)

Side note: Did I sort of almost get one of my wishes with the lifeguard thing with the call back to ‘Blood in the Water’? I feel like I did, even if there was no heartfelt feels about it, I might still count it.

Next week

The promo and the summary makes me pretty sure we’re getting the Rick and Juliet kidnapped episode. Which you know, feels to me like it should be the episode everyone finds out about Miggy. Maybe. Like at the same time, sneaking around sexy-times also fun. I do really hope we get some little bit of anxious BF Magnum screen time. Because if not, then what was it all for???

Rick trying to get Juliet to spill the beans on who TM’s new GF might be - that is going to be so hilarious. But I feel like he must already know, because Thomas did confess to feels for Juliet back in season 4. Even if baby induced amnesia could be a thing, I feel like it’s just him having figured it out, trying to get her to tell him. So he can win the bet on ‘when will Magnum and Higgins get together’ which don’t tell me there isn’t a bet? If there is a text chain there is a bet.

So yeah, I want it to be a week from now, thank you! 

(Also nextepisode.net says 17 episodes for this season and the scrip seen to sugest the same... does that mean 17+10 or 17 +3 or just 17 or 17 + 100 more eps. because our show is the best and they realised and are going to keep making season until the end of time? Asking for a friend...)

[bolton-buried]

Here’s to an official second episode.

[[Video begins:

White text on a black background opens the video. It reads “Apologies for the quality of today’s video being substandard. Today’s subject was rather against being understood. —HB”

Then the video proper starts on a subway in the tube. Charlotte is seated next to Angie, in what seems to be an otherwise empty train car. Charlotte speaks, while Angie looks to be sulking.

“Today’s tip was from one of our patrons who requested to remain anonymous. A mysterious stop on the CIR route, that opens into a bustling junction that could rival Kings Cross. The problem? There seem to be no stairs to the surface, and none of the departing trains are real. We haven’t nailed down what causes this to manifest, but we’ll figure it out.”

The video recording distorts into static nonsense, before seeming to reform with a shot of a station. Angie and Charlotte have their backs to the camera, and Dez is right behind them. The recording is still imperfect and somewhat staticky.

Dez turns to the camera. “Do you remember getting off the train?” A pause, then he hums and starts to walk, moving as though trying to avoid running into people in a crowd. The rest of the team follows him. The footage fades to static again.

When it comes back into something recognizable, Angie is walking, facing the camera.

“Can you feel it? They don’t have souls. I can sense it, all these people…”

Harold responds, “Yeah, Angie, they probably don’t, but they also don’t have faces and I think that’s really the more important thing here. Just say your line.”

“It feels like we’ve been walking for hours, but every device here that should measure time, it, well.”

Angie lifts her phone to show the clock on the Lock Screen, which proudly displays that it’s 72 minutes past W.

The camera pans to Dez as he starts speaking, walking backwards to face it. Other than him, Charlotte, and Angie, the station appears to be empty.

“I think it’s fairly clear that we’re in some manifestation of the Spiral, maybe based in a kind of fear of getting lost in a subway system. They can be confusing, especially to a lot of people who didn’t grow up with them, so a manifestation that preys on that fear would make sense.”

Charlotte responds, not turning to face the camera and continuing to walk around invisible people.

"Sure, but there's got to be a way out. Otherwise how would we have gotten that tip?"

"That would make sense..." Dez trails off in thought. The video distorts out of visibility.

His voice rings through the static again before the video comes back.

"Hey, puddles, check this!"

The footage comes back in, Dez is facing the camera, pointing off screen.

"There's a... I swear, there was. Just a second ago."

As he talks, his face falls.

Charlotte speaks from off screen.

"There's a way to crack this. There has to be a way through. Nothing else makes sense."

Dez sighs.

"It's Spiral, it won't be making sense."

The tail end of his sentence falls to static. This time, rather than fading back in, it cuts to a talking head of Dez, sighing with his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

"I kept seeing those stairs out. Every time that no one else was looking, I'd see stairs back into sunlight, then it'd be gone once someone else turned to see. So I did what I do. I thought."

He straightens.

"We were in a manifestation of the Spiral, born out of the fear people have of losing their way and being unable to navigate an unfamiliar place. Between the four of us, with Charlotte's determination to find the way out, Harold's stubbornness that things have to make sense-"

"Hey!"

Dez continues. "-and Angie's beliefs that she has a higher understanding of things, I was the only one not looking for a way out. I wasn't afraid of losing my way, because I know that there isn't a way. It's the Spiral, it's not going to make sense. So I wasn't feeding into the fear."

Dez laughs brightly.

"I was giving the damn thing indigestion, and the stairs were it trying to spit me out. Took a while to get everyone out with me."

The video cuts back into the static. Charlotte is speaking.

"I found a map."

She opens it to the camera as it fades into view. The notation is not in any legible language, and there are so many pinpoints of different shapes and colors haphazardly arranged that it could be mistaken for a late Monet.

Dez's voice rings out over the light static.

"Okay, new game!"

Harold speaks from behind the camera.

"Hey, what are you-"

A light kissing noise cuts him off.

Angie, still offscreen, speaks next.

"My hair! I can't see."

"Don't touch it. Hold Harry's hand."

Dez steps on screen and pulls off Charlotte's glasses.

"You know I'm farsighted, what's that-"

"Hold Angie's hand in one hand, mine in the other. I'm leading now!"

The video fades back to static. Then Desmond cuts in as a talking head again.

"If they were blinded, that means they're not looking for a way out, so they're not afraid they won't find one. Makes sense? Not really, but it doesn't have to. If you find yourself in King's Uncrossed station, the exit is only there when you're not looking for it, so bear that in mind. Peace!"

It looks like the video is ending, but then the credits cut out, replaced by a room lit with pink LED lights.

Desmond comes on screen, holding the camera to himself.

“I don’t know why I’m putting all of these on the ends of the Hunting Hauntings episodes. I guess I never learned how to be someone without an audience. I would tell Harry, but. He’s been so happy lately, and I can’t take that from him. Anyway, brass tacks.

“I’m being followed. I see it. Everywhere. In the corner of my eye. In the shadows. If it’s another fear, it’s paranoia incarnate. A world away from the paranormalities of my past.

“I want to know what it is. I want it lain bare in front of me, but I’ll settle for the next best thing. I want it gone. And I see two routes for that.

“When Harold was 11, an avatar of the Hunt had his sights set, and he escaped by falling into a river—the Buried. Then later, when the girls were in that book—the Vast—Harry destroyed it by exposing it to the Buried’s energy. I may be able to escape my stalker by turning to another fear, but I can’t until I know which fear it is—otherwise I’d risk exacerbating the issue.

“The other way I see it is… risky. Harry’s dad is a hunt avatar who has killed multiple beings of the other powers. If I can get my stalker into the same place as him, I could retrigger his ‘wolf’ state, and he’ll kill the stalker for me.

“I’ll update with the next episode.”

End video.]]

[seacee16]

when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

warnings: none

prev chapter // next chapter

!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

ch. 9 ~ when you're star lost

“So, are the contents of your laptop as super-secret as you let on, or could I hear the song you’ve been stuck on?” The look on her face was too sweet, pouting pink lips fighting to tug up into a smile as her eyes pleaded. Sakura knew the answer he would give her when a groan slipped past his lips.

They had returned to the warmth of his small studio with red cheeks and cold fingertips. It took two or three songs for the pair to grow too cold to move, and, while the thick hoodie kept enough heat in, Sakura knew that the man was starting to wish he still had the extra layer covering him. But now, the red was beginning to fade from his tan skin.

“I’ll show you the lyrics, but the melody remains super-secret until it is released. Take it or leave it, petal.” She smiled widely, nodding happily.

Chan couldn’t help but chuckle as he sat down in the seat before his studio desk, motioning for her to sit down too. Despite the comfy-looking black couch behind them, she opted for the second office chair, rolling it until she was close enough to see the screen. However, it didn’t seem to be close enough. With a scoff, Chan reached out. As soon as he had a grip on the seat’s plastic arm rests, he tugged hard. A small squeak was heard from the girl as her chair rolled towards him, stopping only when the two seats touched, and the male wore a smug grin. He motioned to the words on the screen before leaning back, letting his arms rest behind his head.

With all efforts directed at ignoring the burn of his eyes on her as she read through the words, Sakura couldn’t help but notice certain lines. They seemed oddly familiar. It wasn’t until she had reached the incomplete pre-chorus that it clicked. She scrolled up the page to where the title sat contrasting black against the crisp white, letting the thought sink in further.

“Is this about the Little Prince?”

Chan’s eyes widened slightly. He cleared his throat and said, “Was it that obvious?”

“As obvious as the ocean is blue, Christopher.” His face heated in an obvious blush, causing the girl to grin. “You’re adorable.”

Her words only made him shy, intensifying the red tint to his face. His hands were quick to cover his face, hiding from her gaze. His sleeves were pulled over his hands, which resulted in sweater paws so cute that Sakura had to fight the urge to ‘aww’.

“I’m not,” he protested, dragging out that last word.

“You are!”

“You’re lying.”

“You wrote a song based on my favourite movie. When you’re shy, you hide behind freaking sweater paws. Chan, you literally squeak when you laugh! I think it’d be impossible for anyone to be more adorable than you.”

His fingers parted, showing off wide eyes. “I squeak?”

“You squeak,” she laughed, hearing him groan. Her eyes drifted over the scrambled ideas once more before continuing, “Back to the topic at hand. I’m no lyricist, but the ideas seem kind of all over the place.” A blush fell upon his defined face.

“Like I said before, I got stuck. My memory of the film isn’t too great, if I’m being honest.”

“Have you thought about maybe, I don’t know, re-watching the film?”

Chan glared at her, shoving her seat. It was hard to be mad at her when her laughter filled the small room as she rolled back. “I would if I had the time, smartass.”

Sakura stood once the chair stopped. “Well, there is no better time for a movie than the present. I’ll leave you to it.” She sent him a small wave before moving towards the door. Only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist a second later.

“Wait!” Sakura turned, looking up at the flushed boy in front of her. His eyes fluttered between her face and their linked hands. “Would you maybe want to watch it with me? I might need you to explain some of the concepts to me. Y’know, for a better understanding and all.”

Sakura grinned. “You’re a sly thing, Christopher Bang. Be happy I don’t have a class tomorrow.”

Chan felt his heart swell as he watched her flop down on the couch, tugging the hood of his jacket over her head to keep warm. Her hand reached out, patting the open spot next to her. With no attempt to hide his eagerness, Chan searched up the movie on a streaming site and clicked ‘play’, almost tripping over her legs as he hurried to turn off the lights before finally plopping down in the seat offered to him. He could hear her giggling at his antics, causing a blush to rise to his cheeks.

The movie went on for a while, with Sakura explaining certain things and adding her thoughts where needed. When the little prince was shown with the fox, Chan snuck a glance at the girl. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, one arm rested on top as a cushion for her chin to sit upon. Her eyes were glued to the screen, a child-like smile on her face. It made her look younger; happier.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

Chan watched as her muted lips moved in sync with the audio coming from his speakers. Her smile widened, and so did his as he watched her, the movie suddenly forgotten. That it, until she noticed his lack of focus. She turned to him; cheek pressed to her knee.

“You’re not paying attention, Christopher.”

“I am.”

She paused the film.

“Yeah? Then explain what the fox just said?”

A blush rose to Chan’s face, unable to recall what had been said, only remembering how her eyes sparkled as she mouthed the words. Sakura laughed, not even trying to argue with him when they both knew that she was right. He stuttered. She rolled her eyes, a smug grin on her face knowing that she had been right. So, she recited the line again, waiting for him to speak.

His head tilted; eyes curious. “But the prince’s rose is the most important thing to him, and he can see her. Doesn’t that count?”

“But you can’t see feelings. Love and hope and longing. You can’t see those, and the rose wouldn’t be so important to him if he didn’t love her. If he didn’t long to return to her. ‘It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important’.” The man’s mouth fell into a small ‘o’, her words sinking in and sparking new ideas. “Majority of the story is about looking beneath the surface and seeing more than just with your eyes to understand. A hat as an elephant swallowed by a boa. An ordinary rose as something more. The little prince travels from planet to planet through this vast mass of stars, wandering and exploring, but forever remaining tethered to his home planet by his love for his one rose. That feeling keeps him grounded. It’s what guides him back home after everything. Without it, he may have been forever lost amongst the stars without direction.”

Chan fumbled for his phone, typing a mess of notes in his note app as she spoke, keeping it open next to him when the movie resumed.

Her eyes turned back to the screen, but his couldn’t help but return to her. Chan’s gaze fell on her hand, resting in the narrow space between them. With the courage of the darkness around them, he inched his hand towards her, stopping when his smallest finger grazed her. He sensed her tense, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she held her breath, much like him, and waited. After a second or two, she felt his pinky curl around hers. Sakura stole a glance at their hands, seeing the way his finger was hooked with her own – like a promise.

“To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”

This time, he heard the words fall from her mouth as it echoed through the room. And when he pulled his gaze away from their hands, he found that she was already looking at him. Her eyes were gentle and sweet and for a moment, Chan believed that the words spoken had been directed at him with reason. That maybe, to her, he was the most unique in all the world. That maybe, to him, she could be the most unique in all the world too. In that moment, the world was nothing but them and their promise and the words of the wise fox.

<3      <3      <3

No one wants to wake up with their body stiff and sore. Sakura groaned softly, feeling the muscle of her neck pull as she shifted. When she had fallen asleep was unknown to her. One minute she was watching the little prince reunite with his rose, and the next she was blinking the sleep from her eyes. The couch moved beneath her, and she froze, now painfully aware that the furniture beneath her was not furniture at all.

Sakura’s heard turned slowly until her gaze fell on the sleeping face beneath her.

Shit.

Her first instinct was to put as much space between them as possible, cut off any physical contact until her heart resumed its normal pace. But she couldn’t bring herself to make that move. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her own. Stuck where she lay, Sakura took her time admiring his feature. The room was still dim from when the movie had started. If she leaned closer, the faint freckles near the outer corners of his eyes were visible. His lips were parted and slightly chapped from breathing through his mouth as he slept. His hair, unlike usual, was sticking out in random places. How her lips envied his eyelashes, impossibly long, resting softly on the smooth skin of his cheeks.

Crack.

Chan had always been beautiful to her. But in that moment – fast asleep with his arms wrapped firmly around her waist and hair askew – he looked beautiful in a more mundane sense. Not like the Bang Chan that sparkled under glitter and stage lights. Beautiful like Chan. Just Chan. The Chan that accepted her little paper ring at sunset and asked her about love. That Chan.

As her thoughts drifted, she felt the body underneath her own stir again. It wasn’t long before his eyes had fluttered open, immediately focusing on the girl staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

“Hi,” Sakura whispered, unable to look away from him. His eyelids hung low, still droopy with sleep, but his smile reached them either way. He was adorable when he woke up.

“You stayed.”

Sakura felt her hands fist against his chest. His voice. Deep and gravelly. The smell of coffee black and midnight. She shivered at the sound. So impossibly deep. Not so much that it could compete with the other Aussie, but it was enough to make her heart squeeze.

“Well, Christopher, I couldn’t exactly leave with the death-grip you have on me.” Chan’s eyes briefly left hers to look at the arms locked around her waist. All he did was shrug.

“Sakura,” he hummed, one hand rubbing up and down the span of her back. Another shiver. With his eyes back on her, he confessed, “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in months.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for not leaving.”

Her face softened, her hand lifting to brush the bangs up and off his forehead. His eyes closed briefly, sighing at the feeling of her fingers in his curls. It took everything in him not to drift back to sleep. Her hand stopped and he opened his eyes. Chan watched as her gaze flickered down to his lips, a look of heavy contemplation covering her face as she met his eyes once more. Ignoring the stretch in his neck, he lifted his head slightly, the gap between them closing slowly until their noses were just about touching. He took a breath, feeling her do the same. The tip of her nose touched his. Her fingers fell to the back of his neck. His hands spread over her sides, holding her to him.

“I should go,” Sakura whispered, her eyes partially closed as they breathed in sync. Despite her words, the girl made no move to leave, instead pressing her forehead to his.

All Chan could do was nod and disregard the twist in his chest. He pushed himself up, watching as Sakura detangled her legs from his and put some distance between them. Any tension present fell away when he noticed the blush to her cheeks, the colour not being present when he first woke up. So, Chan smiled and helped her gather her things.

“Hyung, are you h-“

The pair froze as the door swung open to reveal a freshly dressed Hyunjin. His eyes widened immediately, gaze darting between the girl and his leader as he pieced together what he could. The early hour. The dim lights. The wrinkles in their clothing. The sleep still present in both pairs of eyes. The red glow to the leader’s ears. The dancer grinned wickedly, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the door frame.

“Well, good morning, noona.”

Sakura waved shyly.

“Hard at work, are we, hyung?” he teased further, ignoring the death glare he was getting from the elder. Before Chan could say anything, a bag was tossed his way. “A change of clothes. Felix will know you were here all night again if he sees you, so I’d suggest getting a move on, hyung. I can walk her out.”

Chan hesitated, not wanting to leave you, but he knew that the younger male was right. He sighed, apologizing to the girl before leaving the studio and disappearing down the hall. Hyunjin sent her a kind smile, removing the cap from his head and placing it on her own before motioning for her to follow him out.

“I was helping him. With a song,” Sakura felt the need to say, pulling the cap’s peak down further and slipping a mask on her face. The last thing she needed was to get any of them in trouble with their management.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, noona.”

“I know, but-“

“Sakura,” he said more firmly once they were in an empty elevator. His eyes held no negative emotion. No, just the usual sparkle. “Chan-hyung locks himself in that studio for hours on end every day. And for once, he wasn’t alone. That is all I care about. He’d never ask us to stay behind with him after our schedule ends, so I’m glad he at least had you there as company. So, thank you.”

“He’s too good,” she mumbled to herself, sighing at the thought of a tired Chan stuck in the studio every night.

Hyunjin chuckled beside her, reaching up to push the long hair out of his face. The harsh florescent lights seemed to make his skin glow, showing off the true brown in his dark eyes. The sound of his bracelets slipping against one another filled the short moment of silence as the elevator came to a stop in the building’s basement garage. He was the first to exit when the doors opened, making sure there were no suspicious gazes before walking with her to a dark SUV.

With a tilt of his head, he said, “They can give you a lift to where you need to be.”

“I could have just taken the bus, Hyunjin.”

His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans. “I know,” Hyunjin said with a genuine smile, “but there’s almost always people in the general surrounding area waiting around for a glimpse of the artists. Learnt that the hard way. I’d feel better – and I know that Chan-hyung would too – if a driver we trust took you back home.”

Sakura wanted to argue, but she understood where the young male was coming from. So, instead, she nodded and climbed into the car.

“Thank you,” she told him before he could close the door behind her. His eyes shone as he looked at her, sensing the sincerity behind her words.

“I’m here to help whenever you need it, noona. A friend of Chan’s is immediately a friend of ours.”

[lady-charinette]

Soulmate AU but you enter a office/agency, pick a number and randomly get assigned a person.

Marinette stared quizzically at the slip of paper in her hand, awkwardly peeking over the rim of the employee's computer of the soulmate agency that seemed to be the latest trend.

A desperate cry for finding true love or at least Marinette hoped finding a good guy.

She gestured towards the system flashing numbers in quick succession. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of a soulmate?"

The secretary sighed deeply and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. "Miss Dupain-Cheng, you're not the first nor last to ask me this today."

"I'm sorry! I just don't see how me getting this number will help me find my soulmate." Marinette crossed her arms, staring up at the screen where different numbers flashed on the display.

The secretary smiled and cleared his throat. "You'll get assigned a person according to the questionnaire you filled out beforehand. You'll get asked additional questions based on the hobbies you listed, your interests and preferences for your soulmate. You'll receive a list of potential matches and set up appointments with them."

'Appointments? Am I at the doctor's?' Marinette politely thanked the secretary and waited patiently for her number to flash brightly on the screen. It reminded her of numbers flashing for a lottery ticket.

Then, Marinette's number flashed big and bright on the display.

With hurried steps, she rushed down the flight of stairs and knocked on a blue door, hearing a soft 'come in!' from inside.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng I presume?"

"Y-Yes!" Marinette quickly took a seat in front of the kind elderly man.

"I have the questionnaire you filled out right here. You're looking for a male soulmate, correct?"

Marinette's fingers flexed nervously on her lap, playing with the hem of her jacket. "Yes."

Grey eyebrows lifted up curiously. "Do you like them handsome?"

Marinette blinked owishly. "E-Excuse me?"

The man chuckled. "The male soulmate you're looking for."

"O-oh! Um, I don't need to be super handsome, I mean, it's more important to me what their personability- I-I mean personality is like."

The man hummed thoughtfully and typed on his computer. "Mhm..." he paused. "Any preferences for hair or eye color?"

Marinette blushed to the roots of her hair. "Um...not particularly but maybe blond? Or um, any hair color really. Something creative? Eye color doesnt matter to me."

The man typed. "Blond or dyed hair..."

"Sign here please, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette stared at the document the elderly man pushed towards her. "Uh, what is this?"

"This is a form you have to sign in order to be able to participate in the soulmate matches and get signed into our system. If you wish to have more time to read through it you may take it home and return it tomorrow."

"I think I'll take the time and read through it carefully, I don't do these kinds of things every day. Thank you so much for your help, mister...?"

The man swirled around in his chair, a mysterious grin on his face, chestnut brown eyes seeming to stare right through Marinette's very soul. "Wang Fu."

[m00dysunflower]

13, 14, and 29 for the JJBA ask game!!

13. Fave thing about the Jojo fandom?

Is it sad that it's a little hard to do because the fandom itself I'm so iffy on? But I like small, specific pockets of the fandom... aka my friends lol. But fr the self-ship community has been pretty nice as well as a bunch of the fic creators, very supportive, great parts of the fandom.

14. Fave thing about the Jojo series?

Honestly it's the music references, I think it's such a fun and unique part. The art style is also so distinct, which I think is very important for anything.

29. Rank your order, favourite to least favourite of: All the Jojos

I feel... I might... get some backlash... I will not be ranking Johnny or Gappy because I don't know that much about them. And tbh... if I was to rank Johnny based on what I know... I don't think he's going anywhere near the top as far as my personal tastes go.

6. Giorno: I don't dislike him at all, I do like Giorno a lot, but I think he was the least interesting in his part's cast, so that brought his score down for me.

5. Joseph: Look... yes he's a dick+cheated on Suzi, but I don't like DIU anyways. He at least had an active presence in his own part and I have a soft spot for SDC Joseph.

4. Jotaro: I feel like Jotaro's just too likeable. He's quiet like Giorno, but he doesn't take a back seat in his own story and we do see him appear the most in the series, so he's always present in our minds. He's like the bridge between the older and younger Jojos.

3. Josuke: Another case of taking a back seat in his own story, but when Josuke's on screen, he had such personality you forget that there were eps where he wasn't in the spotlight. I really wanted to see more of him and his adventures, maybe I would've liked DIU more.

2. Jonathan: I can't imagine the series without Jonathan. He was so resilient and kind, he was the blueprint from the Jojos. I always have a soft spot for the first of anything I watch. Iconic design, OP, and villain.

1. Jolyne: She broke her family's curse and achieved ultimate peace to do what she wanted. Amazing design and design progression, you see her grow and learn with her stand more than any other Jojo, she was a breath of fresh air for the series.

Like with the OPs, I might go more in depth on my ranking selection in a separate post and why I think my brain has ranked them like this.

[wyvchard]

I looked at the crowd of people in front of my door through the crystal, a magic tool that I commissioned for this exact reason.

It had always been a possibility when my wife and I were expecting. We talked about it extensively, sometimes staying up until dawn as neither of us can sleep.

Magic is learned, superpowers are inherited. That's what they say. However, despite the fact anyone can learn magic, it easily falls behind when people can just be born with unique abilities.

I looked at the display made from crystals, seeing them from a bit of distance.

My eldest came to me, feet still trying to balance. His smile was faltering as his eyes watered.

"What's wrong?"

"Papa, it feels scary outside." He climbed into my lap as he buried his face onto my chest.

"I know. I know." I patted his back as I stared at the screen, sound devices on so only I will hear what they say.

"I can't believe that ingrate. He does one good thing and yet he won't open the door?"

I took a deep breath, taking note of my grandmother's sharp tone.

My uncle, the only voice of "reason" in the family, spoke up. "Mother, I don't think we should make a scene here. Please avoid such comments."

The resemblance to two individuals was uncanny, yet, I vow to never be like them.

When I reached their age, I realized how cowardly they are. However, I can't completely fault them if this was all they knew. It still is not an excuse.

There were some sparkles in front of the screen, prompting me to get up from my seat with my eldest in my arms to grab my youngest.

My entire house shook, but it remained intact. I took a deep breath as I hid them within my arms.

"You useless child! How did you even come from my blood?!"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, grandmother!"

"Did I give you the right to call me that?! I gave you a chance. Maybe in your teen years, you could've developed powers but no! You're now an adult but you still haven't developed a power!"

I checked my watch, counting the minutes before law enforcement arrives.

"Come out there, you ingrate! You did only one job right and you're not seeing it through!"

The second crack made me think that the house will not hold that long.

I descended down with two scared children, but there's not much I can do but hope that things will hold.

"Boss, they're looking for me." I contacted the supervillain, fighting the sting in my eyes as the helplessness from years ago came back with a vengeance.

There were no words as the city's sirens of an attack sounded.

"... Thank you."

They merely turned off the transmission, causing me to focus more on my children so they wouldn't be too impacted.

... Would this be a good idea? My hands shivered as I looked at the innocence in my children's eyes.

Superpowers will win the battle; not to mention, they can appeal to their many connections.

When they can make a decision, I will give them a choice. But not now. Not when those monsters can take them away.

We made it to the supervillain's base, discreetly as it could be another point against us.

I used the magical tools to identify ourselves with them, causing me to finally slump when the lift's door closed.

"Papa, why were there scary people outside earlier?"

"Sweetie, those people used to care for papa but things changed." I caressed my son's head as I scrambled to find a proper explanation.

Just as how hard I tried to fight in order to get them to include me, I will make sure they have to fight twice as hard to even get the chance.

None of them have changed over the years. I won't ever put my family in the fake warmth they offer.

Our arms are warm enough.

Your bloodline is known for carrying superpowers, but you didn’t inherit them. And so your family cut ties with you. But after having children who did inherit those powers, your family tries to reinsert themselves into your life.