#but I thought I would upload regardless

[itsohh]

R6S PASTEL OPERATORS: CAV, ASH & KALI

[outlying-hyppocrate]

hey fuckers here's something pinteresting

[adieutristana]

happy birthday!; arcane women x fem!reader

so my birthday was back in december. but i thought this would be cute regardless

sorry for kinda slow uploads! midterm season + burnout + working full shifts every weekend… i’ve got stuff cooking dw

summary; headcanons of arcane women celebrating their girlfriend’s birthday.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn

tags/warnings; fluff, a lot of fluff, possible hurt/comfort, just cute stuff all around

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is a bit intimidated by the idea of celebrating your birthday, at first. she hasn’t done much for her birthday in years, not since before what happened on the bridge years ago. silco would give her a pre-packaged cake with the appropriate number of candles every year, but that was it. however, jinx is never one to back down from a challenge.

✧.* as jinx's girlfriend, you don't just get a party, a celebration, anything like that for your birthday. you get a whole damn festival.

✧.* jinx never does anything halfway. she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she'd given you a lackluster birthday.

✧.* jinx wakes you up at the first hint of daylight with poppers and streamers, giggling all the way and jumping on her heels. she doesn't seem to care that you're grumbling and trying to cover your ears, clearly not happy being woken up this early. "it's your birthday! your birthday! can you believe it, toots?!" she giggles, letting off another popper.

✧.* the girl is basically dragging you by the arm out of bed. she's rambling, promising you that she's got loads of fun things planned for you today. lots of presents, adventures to go on, snacks, the like.

✧.* "go get dressed! wear somethin' nice, okay? but not too nice!" she giggles. it's likely some sort of implication of explosions to come during the day. as soon as you've gotten dressed and ready for the day ahead of you, jinx's fingers are intertwining with yours, and she's leading you out of her hideout.

✧.* your first stop is the lanes, which jinx has taken care to decorate thoroughly before your arrival. you've seen the lanes several times before, but the walls are now tagged with your name, your initial and jinx's in hearts, crude stick-figure drawings of the two of you, and jinx's signature monkeys. all throughout the lanes, a constant reminder of you. at the end of one of the alleys, jinx has made a clear attempt at painting confetti and a cake, though the paint had run in several spots. she must've been particularly excited when doing that.

✧.* "baby, this is-" "awesome? wonderful? amazing? perfect?" she interrupts, giggling as she throws her arms around your shoulders from behind. "i worked reaaaaal hard on it, y'know!" punctuating her words with a swift kiss to your lips. but of course, that isn't all. it never is with jinx.

✧.* she makes it a point to let anyone who passes by in the alleys know that it’s your birthday, and that artwork is for you. “all for my girlfriend! birthday girl! pretty, ain’t it?”

✧.* your next stop is an old warehouse, where jinx used to scramble for scraps and spare parts for weapons. but she's decorated it to be a sort of... shooting range. there's targets, cases of ammo, and a spare revolver on a table, as well as spray-painted arrows pointing to the targets. though you were a bit reluctant at first, jinx swore it'd be fun- just a little something to let loose.

✧.* she holds your hands from behind, guiding your finger to the trigger and helping adjust your aim. "a little to the left- yes, like that!" she giggles. her chin is resting on your shoulder, watching your every move. "and... fire!"

✧.* you end up liking it a lot more than you'd thought. it's wild, it's reckless, but it's so jinx. despite everything, some simple target practice does help you let off some steam from long days spent working or studying.

✧.* "let's try moving targets next time! or living ones." "absolutely not."

✧.* your final stop is jinx's hideout. she sits you down at a wobbly table and tells you to close your eyes, a wide smile on her face. you're sat for a few minutes and your mind begins to wander to what the hell is taking her so long, but it's then she places something in front of you. "okay, open!"

✧.* a... cake? something that's leaning to one side with messy frosting, scratchy words reading 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY'. sprinkles are unevenly spread on it, but she pushes it towards you.

✧.* "i made this, just for you! come on, try it!"

✧.* you're a bit apprehensive at first, but you cut a slice regardless. as odd as it looks, it actually tastes really, really good. jinx is watching the whole time with a smug grin. you don't even need to say anything for your girlfriend's ego to balloon.

✧.* wouldn’t eat any right away, but would insist on kissing you for a taste test. those big magenta eyes looking at you so sweetly, yet it’s almost amusing. “come on, just a little taste test,” she whines, before you roll your eyes and connect your lips with hers.

✧.* she’d made you a bouquet of flowers from welded metal, as well as a heart-shaped trinket box with both of your initials carved into it. it’s got pink and blue doodles painted all over it, and something already inside of it- a silver locket! one side holds a stick figure drawing of you, and the other of her.

✧.* jinx’s gifts are always handmade, and always so personal. she knows exactly what you like, and you’re able to see that especially on occasions like your birthday.

✧.* jinx also made a card for you, which reads, “i don’t know how to write these, honestly. words aren’t my strong suit. but i’m happy to have you, and i’m happy that i get to celebrate with you. thanks for being an awesome girlfriend, i love you!

-J!”

vi;

✧.* vi would be soooo so attentive during your entire birthday. you’re the most important thing in vi’s life, without a doubt. she wants to show that to you the best she can.

✧.* she won’t wake you up, but vi knows your sleeping schedule well enough to be able to get a good guess of when you will wake up. therefore, she prepares breakfast in bed for you!

✧.* “rise and shine, cupcake,” she hums, soft lips brushing against your temple. “made something to start your day right.”

✧.* and it’s good. you insist that vi didn’t have to do this for you, but she counters by saying that she wanted to. it’s your birthday, after all. can’t she treat you?

✧.* vi takes you to a cafe on the outskirts of piltover, one she’d found while just walking around the city and exploring. it’s a quaint place, a hidden gem of sorts. she lets you get anything you’d like on the menu (no matter how expensive), and talks about anything and everything with you over your meal.

✧.* “so. how are you feeling now? any older?” “the same way i felt yesterday,” you quip, before taking another bite. “aw, come on. give me something to work with here.”

✧.* does end up telling the staff that it’s your birthday so you can get some free sweets :)

✧.* vi spoils you anyways, but on your birthday? oh, you’re not doing anything by yourself. she insists on helping you into your coat, opening every door for you, paying for everything (a given), doing any housework that needs done. it’s your birthday, so you’re gonna relax and enjoy yourself. vi will handle the rest.

✧.* and she’s so clingy the entire day! she had an arm slung around your waist while walking you to the cafe. she’s kissing your temples and forehead while you’re having breakfast, she’s lifting you up and spinning you around the second you get dressed for the day and telling you just how beautiful you look.

✧.* “you’re stunning, you know that?” vi hums, before pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. “you tell me every day,” before turning your head for a proper kiss. “but i love hearing it.”

✧.* once you’re back home, vi presents you with some gifts she’d bought you. she tried to wrap them, but they ended up looking… interesting. so she just put them in a gift bag.

✧.* but you can’t open them before the cake! speaking of the cake, it’s a three-layered cake, your favorite flavor with ‘happy birthday’ in print across the center, as well as your age below it. it’s got a few candles around the edges as well, just to set the scene.

✧.* vi turns out the lights and insists on singing to you. she'll likely also want to take some photos too, just to save the memory.

✧.* "say cheese," she chuckles. her finger is ghosting over the shutter, and vi's smiling ear-to-ear. "just a few pictures, okay?"

✧.* usually the gifts your girlfriend gets you are more on the practical side, but for occasions like this, they're the typical, sappy things. she's gotten you a few hair pins she saw you eyeing while out window shopping, candles for your shared home, and the kicker is the matching bracelets. they're made out of bound leather, but the thing that sticks out to you is the fact that yours has a V engraved into it, and hers has your initial.

✧.* they likely came from a crafter in the undercity, someone who clearly knew what they were doing from how carefully made they are.

✧.* "well.. do you like it?" vi asks. she's already slipping her own onto her wrist, before taking yours and offering it up. "i love it," you affirm. you lift your arm to allow vi to put it on you, smiling all the way.

✧.* vi's card is simple, handmade, and heartfelt. it's on simple white cardstock with hearts and a cake drawn on the front- the inside reading, "it's your birthday! wow. that's kind of hard to believe, isn't it? another year spent by your side, getting to see you kick ass and do great things every day. i feel like the luckiest girl alive to be able to call you mine. i hope we get lots more birthdays together. i love you lots cupcake, happy birthday!

-vi ♡"

mel;

✧.* mel has had your birthday celebration planned for months.

✧.* if there is anything mel can do, it's celebrate. it's plan a party, one that'll keep people talking for weeks, maybe even months to come.

✧.* however, she doesn't want anything too extravagant or over-the-top for your birthday. as much as she'd like to shout from the rooftops piltover that it's her darling's birthday, she also wants to be able to have a more intimate celebration with you.

✧.* that morning starts with you being woken up to the feeling of mel’s lips, peppering kisses across your face. you erupt into a fit of sleepy giggles, wrapping your arms around your girlfriend’s waist.

✧.* “happy birthday, love,” she whispers, continuing her assault of kisses. “do you feel any different?” “mm, no… the same as yesterday.”

✧.* of course she’s already made breakfast for you. who do you think she is? and she knows your favorites by heart, so it’s a tried-and-true breakfast.

✧.* before the party she’s organized starts, mel takes you to some of the local street vendors and shops to see if there’s anything you’d like. even if you don’t necessarily ask for it. if she sees your gaze linger on a certain bracelet for more than a few seconds, she’s already talking to the shopkeeper to buy it. if you point out a hair pin you like, she’s already got it.

✧.* “oh, that’s cute,” you point out, lingering on a pin adorned with crystals. just a passing comment, and you likely won’t buy it. “it’s yours, then.” “huh? mel-”

✧.* she whisks you away to your party. she’d been rather secretive about the whole operation- you know that you’re having a party, and it’s at a small yet expensive venue in the heart of piltover. that’s all mel will let you know. so once you’re inside and greeted by glass chandeliers, gold trim in every corner, one of the biggest pastry arrangements you’ve ever seen and nearly every friend or family member in the area, it comes as a shock.

✧.* mel’s outdone herself, yet again. “all of this… for me?” mel lets out a low chuckle, and snakes her arms around you from behind. resting her chin on your shoulder. “anything for you, and more.”

✧.* mel watches as you ease into conversation with guests. catching up with family, friends, old colleagues with a gentle smile on your face. it does wonders for her, to be able to see you with other loved ones- all while celebrating your special day.

✧.* when it comes time to bring out the cake and gifts, a cake is wheeled out from a kitchen. multiple layers with intricate writing and edible flowers on the top, clearly made by one of the best bakers in piltover. someone mel no doubt has connections to.

✧.* the cake reads, ‘happy birthday, y/n!’ in neat script, wrapping across the middle layer.

✧.* mel watches closely while you open cards and gifts from other guests, but she insists that you open hers last, reason unknown.

✧.* once you do get to her gift, you notice that it’s… small. really, really small. in a white velvet box, but bigger than a ring box. you look up at her, an eyebrow quirked in hopes of some kind of hint. “just open it, love,” she hums, pointing her chin back to the box.

✧.* you open the gift, increasingly curious as to what she could’ve possibly gotten for you- but it’s greater than anything you could’ve expected. a custom-made bracelet, made to resemble mel’s own ring. a symbol of the medardas, a symbol of commitment. not a ring, not a promise quite yet, but something just for you. just for mel’s lover.

✧.* tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and all you can notice is your girlfriend’s smile growing wider. “do you like it?” she asks, taking your hand in hers and going to clasp the bracelet on your wrist. “mel, this is… too much, really.” you gasp. the bracelet is nothing short of beautiful, even more so on your wrist. “nonsense. it’s perfect.”

✧.* her card is on black paper, trimmed with gold leaf and the message inside is written in white ink. “your birthday, one of the days i look forward to the most. it’s hard to believe another year has passed, isn’t it? you grow more every year, as does my love for you. i hope that this birthday is a good one. i love you always.

-mel medarda.”

sevika;

✧.* sevika is almost always up early. her job is one that requires her presence at all hours of the day, even when the rest of zaun is asleep (for the most part, at least). but on your birthday, sevika sleeps in. she stays in bed with you, one arm draped around your waist while nestling her face into the crook of your neck.

✧.* sevika wakes you up shortly after you do, beginning to stir when she notices your drowsy movements. “mm… mornin’, sev,” you whisper, a hand coming to thread through her hair. “mornin’, birthday girl,” she mutters.

✧.* of course sevika insists on making you breakfast, so she’s up within minutes in the kitchen. nothing fancy necessarily, but watching her from the kitchen table, swiftly moving and humming to herself in a state nobody else could ever hope to see sevika in… it’s priceless.

✧.* she doesn't have anything necessarily fancy planned in the way of celebrations, but sevika still makes sure you have the best birthday possible. she tells you to go put on something nice, she's taking you out.

✧.* she takes you to a relatively new restaurant in zaun, one that's already gotten raving reviews from critics. it's a bit out of the way, and neither of you have been before, but the woman is trusting the public opinion on this one.

✧.* and sevika was right to trust the public. it's a damn good place, one that's up to your tastes. she can see the way your demeanor changes the moment you step in the door, curious eyes taking in the dim lighting and fresh aromas. it's nothing luxurious, but you wouldn't want that. it's cozy. it's perfect for the occasion,

✧.* "so," sevika hums, placing her menu down. "what d'ya think of the place?" "it's nice. really nice," you reach out for one of her hands, a light smile playing on your face. "how'd you find it?" "i have my ways, dove."

✧.* the food arrives, and it's some of the best you've had in zaun. sevika sees your face, hears your pleased noises, and knows she's done something right. and of course she gets pastries for you at the end, even though she's already got a cake at home for you.

✧.* your next stop is a river, one in the outskirts of zaun. untainted nature is a rare thing to come by in the undercity, but it still has its spots of quiet beauty. she sits in the slightly gray grass with you, watching the water ripple with the wind. holding you against her shoulder and rubbing her prosthetic hand over your arm.

✧.* "makes you think, doesn't it?" you whisper. your gaze is fixed on the scene before you: the sun's rays catching on the water, the little critters surrounding it, the few flowers that bloom close to land. "about what?" "just... everything. it's my birthday, and things suck, but this is nice. a little pocket away from everything else."

✧.* sevika makes a mental note to bring you to spots like this more often.

✧.* once you're back home, sevika sits you down at the kitchen table and presents you with a cake and gift. sevika is far from a baker, she can cook well enough. but baking is mostly uncharted territory for the woman, so the cake has an... interesting appearance. regardless, she did her best, even if the frosting is uneven and the writing on top got a little smudged.

✧.* it's a simple two-layer cake, with 'happy birthday, y/n' written across the top in sevika's neat handwriting.

✧.* but it's actually pretty good! you're a bit skeptical, though you feel bad judging only by appearance. you take the first bite, then glance up at sevika and give her a swift nod. she's surprised you today in several ways.

✧.* "don't even say anything." sevika chuckles. "not much to look at, but it's good, yeah?"

✧.* the gift she's gotten you is wrapped in brown parchment paper, with your name written across the front in black pen. inside, though, is a small photo album. mostly compiled of candid photos, a few of the two of you posed together (despite sevika's camera shyness), and a few of destinations you've been together. likely taken on the disposable camera you've seen her carry around, the same one she tells you not to worry about. now it makes sense.

✧.* it's simple, but it's so intimate and heartfelt. "sevika.. you took all of these? made this, for me?" the woman's gaze softens further, and you can see her lips start to tug into a smile. "of course i did. i've spent janna knows how long taking all these pictures..." before she's cut off by you throwing your arms around her neck, nearly lunging at her.

✧.* her card is written on simple white paper, with just your name written across the front and a message inside. "i'm not good with words, i never have been. but i hope that i'm able to spend a lot more years with you. you make things a lot more worthwhile, and i'm lucky to have you by my side. happy birthday, dove. i love you.

-sevika."

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn has everything very carefully planned. not necessarily a party or any kind of grand celebrations, but a day for just the two of you. where she can show you her love and appreciation in the most unabashed ways.

✧.* you're woken up to the smell of breakfast on the bedside table, but caitlyn isn't there. the mattress still has an imprint from where she laid not long before, but she's not anywhere to be seen.

✧.* you wander out of the bedroom. a fist coming to rub at your eyes in your drowsy state, only focused on finding your girlfriend. it's then that your eyes land on a tall figure, moving about the kitchen like it's the most natural thing in the world.

✧.* "cait...?" you approach her slowly, your movements still sluggish. "what are you doing out of bed?" "preparations for later, darling." she says. the woman doesn't turn around, not yet, but her voice is calm and reassuring all the same. judging from the sweet scent in the air, she's making some last-minute pastries for your birthday. you decide to leave it alone.

✧.* the first half of breakfast, you're by yourself. but it isn't a bad kind of solidarity, rather peaceful while your girlfriend makes the finishing touches for your special day. you hear the oven click off, and within seconds, caitlyn is beside you. brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, her lips brushing your temple ever so gently.

✧.* "my apologies," she whispers, moving to press another kiss over your cheekbone. "i might've overestimated my workload. it's settled now."

✧.* your first stop is a bakery settled in the heart of piltover, one commonly titled one of piltover's 'hidden gems.' luxury pastries of all sorts, the atmosphere inside is warm and inviting. something akin to what would be in a storybook or travel magazine, but it's real.

✧.* "whatever you want, love." cait told you. she stands back, watching you marvel at the glass cases at the front and over the printed menus. macarons, ice cream, gelato, cakes, cupcakes, cookies, mini pies, the whole lot of it. all at your disposal.

✧.* you only end up picking a few things, not nearly all that you've had your eye on. you know on your birthday, your girlfriend would buy out the entire bakery if you asked her to, but you won't. this'll suffice.

✧.* your next stop is a restaurant, nestled by a river with a window seat right next to it. candles sit atop the tables, the low rumble of chatter from other patrons filling the restaurant. it's not necessarily uptight or fancy, but it's nice. clearly a place that's sought after.

✧.* "you've outdone yourself, cait," you mutter between bites. the food is hearty and damn savory, something you probably wouldn't been able to find yourself. "i did what i had to," she chuckles. her hands are tented in front of her on the table, having already finished her meal. "can't let my special girl have anything less than perfect on her special day, can i?"

✧.* once you arrive back at the woman's estate, you see an array of gifts, a bouquet, and a cake on the kitchen island for you. a multi-layered cake with edible decorations that reads 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY,' several carefully-wrapped gifts of varying sizes.

✧.* "oh, baby, you didn't have to..." you can barely even say the words. it's all so much. caitlyn cuts you off with a swift, yet still tender kiss to your lips. "shh. i wanted to. you're worth it all."

✧.* your cake has several cupcakes and cake pops accompanying it, seemingly what the woman was working so diligently at that morning.

✧.* the first gift is a carefully wrapped candle, one of the ones caitlyn keeps in her room. you'd told her once during the beginning of your relationship that you liked the smell of it, and it seems that she's remembered.

✧.* the second and third are both pieces of jewelry, one a simple silver charm bracelet that cait tells you will have more charms the more memories you make together. the other, a short silver chain with a sapphire pendant, one that perfectly matches caitlyn's hair color.

✧.* the final, a bigger box with a satin bow on top. your heart pounds in your chest while opening it. you have no idea what to expect, but knowing caitlyn, it's gotta be good. you weren't sure what you were expecting, but definitely wasn't a heavy scrapbook.

✧.* you didn't even know caitlyn was into this kind of thing. when would she even have the time to scrapbook? regardless, you open the cover, decorated with a photo of both of you and your name written underneath- and tucked neatly beneath it is your card.

✧.* "i hope that you like this. i spent a lot of time making this book, but it has everything- our first few dates, my thoughts, candids, mementos. all that's important to you, to me, and to us. something to celebrate another year of having and loving you. happy birthday, darling.

-caitlyn."

[messrmoonyy]

i loved ur virgin reader x arthur headcannons, i was wondering what do you think abt arthur x reader + size kink,,, everyone knows that man is built like a fucking tank. everytime i think of Arthur my mind goes brrrrr w size kink blaring like a bright light

Hello! I have many a thought. Many. May thoughts. I mention size kinks a few times throughout my Arthur uploads so let’s go.

NSFW discussions below. MDNI

I feel like with someone as fucking massive as Arthur it’s impossible not to link him with a size kink lmao. My guy is huge. And for the record, he would absolutely adore you no matter your size. Short, tall, slim, plus sized. Whatever. Odds are you’re still going to be not even remotely the size of that fucking beast of a man. ( I just feel this needs to be pointed out because far too many people write their dainty little reader inserts which is why I try keep my reader insert as blank as possible to insert yourself into. He’d love throwing you about regardless. Mwah )

He’s so often using his size to throw his weight around and scare people. He’s used to intimidating everyone he comes across. But with you he can use it in nicer ways. He wants you to remember he’s bigger, he’s stronger, so you’re safe with him, He’s gonna take care of you. Butttt he can’t help but marvel how small you seem to him. How his body completely covers yours, pinning you down and watching your cunt stretch around him? Seeing you struggle at first but then take him with such a practiced ease after some adjusting? it makes him a little a lot feral.

Likeeee. How vulnerable you are in comparison? He lives for that shit. He could snap you in half if he felt so inclined, and yet you offer yourself to him on a silver platter. The way his hands dwarf your own and he can almost wrap one around your neck completely? LH!Arthur would use it as a threat ‘ so delicate ain’t ya? Could snap you like a twig darlin ‘ ‘ sweet little thing just mine for the takin ‘. Making sure you know he’s in charge, he’s bigger than you so you better listen to him. Oh! And. On the topic of hands, he fucking loves how even his fingers can stretch you out, have you a panting whining mess as he uses those thick fingers of his could make him come on the spot.

And when it gets down to it he loves any position he can just pin you in place. Prone bone, mating press. Pulling your back up against his chest so he can wrap those damn tree trunk arms around you and hold you in place as he fucks up into you, damn near splitting you in half. Anything he can just toss you around and fold you like a rag doll and be his for the taking. And praise you through it all of course “ takin me so well darlin. Always take me so well don’t ya?”

[sweetlady555]

Unlocking the hidden power of Mars 12H:

Hi everyone! I apologize for not having been uploading as much but I’m back and writing about Mars 12H because it's so powerful and I rarely EVER see anyone talking about it. As I’ve decided to step fully into my power starting November 2024, I’ve recently realized something powerful about my energy that completely changed my perspective, I will be using Kim Kardashian as my example as she is a Mars 12H native :$

What Is Mars in the 12H? 🤔

Mars represents drive, action and motivation. The 12H is the house of the subconscious, hidden things, spirituality, behind the scenes, hidden strengths, the spiritual realm. When these two energies combine, they create an energy that works below the surface often in ways we aren't fully conscious of. 👁️

One thing you should know is Mars 12H natives makes moves in silence they don't need outside noise or your projections! You'll see how it's done just watch, you don't know need to know how, why or when they're going to do it, but just know they've been multiple steps ahead of you. Its like this divine calling thats always in your ear telling you which move shall be next and its such a strong force that its like if you don’t take action itll make you feel so……… wrong its like a itch. Usually Mars 12H natives do take the action and it leads to blessings I like to call them. Mars 12H natives do not feel the need to force anything, when the thought and feeling comes you do that shit! Mars 12H natives are always mysteriously led to exactly where they need to be.. this is likely why they get their rep for being so mysterious & secretive! Its imporant as a Mars 12H native to listen to your gut and trust that everything will work out as planned, and this doesn’t go for just Mars 12H natives it goes for everyone!

Let's use Kim Kardashian as a famous example on how Mars 12H manifests for the natives, as a Mars in 12H native I feel like I can relate to her ambition and I can understand her doings.

Kim Kardashain always knew she was going to be a star, if you have seen her videos of her younger self she states, "and you're all going to remember me as this beautiful little girl" For both Kim and people with Mars 12th house, the confidence and determination to become a star or successful often comes from a deep subconscious belief in their destiny. Even if they don't know the "how" or the "when," they just FEEL compelled to take action towards their dreams, sometimes in ways that seem hidden or almost effortless to others. In Kim's case, she didn't just fall into success, she actively pursued it through her work, image crafting, and seizing opportunities. Even before she became widely known, she had an innate sense of how to position herself and build her brand. This is the Mars 12H signature, an internal drive that doesn't always need external validation or explanations to succeed. Many people accuse Kim of "destiny swapping" with Paris Hilton but let's be so fo real right now.. Destiny swapping doesn't exist, and I feel like people just can't believe Kim rose above Paris Hilton which seemed so effortlessly, but not enough people credit her for her hard work and perseverance. People have accused her for being a reptellian too 😭 ? because I guess its that hard to understand hard work, dedication and logic actually does pay off! Kim has a vision and she's still actively working hard for her vision behind the scenes, and if its one thing we all know its that Kim will chase her bag regardless!

My experience with Mars in the 12H :

Growing up, I always knew I was going to be something special, I knew I was gonna be influential (I have 10H placements so this might manifest differently) Last year, I had rose to fame very quickly online through my image and the amount of people who were confused af how I did it was flattering not gonna lie! I would hear people tell me things like “did you sell your soul?” or “whats the method?” or “you only got it because you had this and this” . I was always in my own bubble online posting what I feel destined to do no matter what my ego said. I thought with my soul a lot of times even if it was shocking, so honestly I could see how people would accuse me of “selling my soul” or having a certain method to my influential social media fame. There is a lot of pain & passion behind my doings and I logically plan everything out so it kind of flatters me honestly! To me this just shows how Mars 12H natives are skilled in making something out of themselves coming from being a underdog to becoming someone highly admired.

The Energy Of A 12H Mars Native :

Mars in the 12H natives can have this strong powerful magnetic effect on others without them even realizing it but others will feel this on a subconcious level. They truly have a lot of appeal! Its almost like this hidden power or secret magentism that draws people in which could attract a lot of admirers, monitoring spirits, actual spirits even! 😭 The truth is though, Mars 12H natives do really have this strong inner power within them, they tend to be very confident in themselves and this energy reflects on the outside even through the screen. They have this aura around them that can’t be ignored. Mars 12H natives will often be seen as untouchable or enigmatic, just like Kim she knew how to use this energy to use this subtle allure to captivate her audience.

People with Mars 12H have this sexual energy that is more felt, not seen! This can make their presence intoxicating as others may sense their sexual energy without knowing where it’s coming from. Its almost hypnotic! Its a deeply rooted emotional and spiritual sexual energy often rooted in the subconcious. With Kim, she knew how to use this energy in her brand being percieved as seductive, powerful and confident, but it wasnt just about her body — it was about the way she carried herself and commanded attention without saying much.

Despite being more subtle, Mars in the 12H gives the individual an almost unconcious control over their sexual energy. Theres an innate understanding of how to play on emotions and create attraction often with very little effort. This creates an energy that is simultaneously passive and powerful and you can’t deny or ignore it either. Almost like being in the background but still being the force everyone notices.

There is a lot of fantasy and imagination that takes place with Mars 12H natives and how theyre percieved, natives with this placement tend to make others fantasize about them not just by how they look but how they make people feel! Their energy creates a sense of longing, almost like a dream or a fantasy that others want to live in. Kim Kardashian has been able to tap into this fantasy energy by cultivating an image of perfect beauty and luxury, which keeps her in a fantasy world that fans want to be apart of. This fantasy element is key to her sexual appeal, as it makes her seem unreachable and unattainable.

Mars 12H natives, if they aren’t aware of their power makes them a target for insecure people and spirits in the physical and spiritual realm. People will often notice this energy before you even do and project the most they can and throw as much dirt as they can on you because they’re afraid of your power! Its highly advised you take the precautions and make sure you are being careful in who you’re telling your business to, what things you might be opening in the physical and spiritual realm, who you let into your space, who you’re doing business with all of it! Dont let them take advantage of you!

I also had read that Mars 12H often repress their emotions or their anger and although it is that in some cases, Mars 12H natives just tend to strategically move instead of acting out on anger or resentment in the moment to avoid unnecessary conflict and to stay in power and their own peace. Its a silent strength many Mars 12H natives have where you don’t have to scream or shout to prove yourself, you can strategically wait for the right moment, then act with precision. This ability to stay focused and composed on long term goals is what makes Mars 12H natives have this quiet power behind them. People might not realize that this anger comes from a calculated, startegic place, its not random but it could be percieved as out of nowhere. The 12H is often linked to subconcious energies, hidden feelings and things that are not visible to others, so when Mars 12H natives express their anger it can come off as intense, mysterious or even uncontrollable to those around you. People may not fully understand why you do the things you do or whats going on beneath the surface so this often leads to people labeling your anger more extreme.

The Spirtual Realm

Mars in the 12H natives are often deeply connected to the spiritual realm, but they experience it in a unique way. This placement can give them a natural sensitivity to invisible forces or energies like I mentioned earlier a divine force! Whether that may be intuition, sprits or subconcious currents that influence their actions. Mars in the 12H is often described as “Behind the scenes” or operating in the background, which makes these individuals especially attuned to the unseen world—the spiritual, emotional and psychological realm.

Mars, the planet of action, aggression and energy, in the 12h amplifies the natives ability to tap into intuitive and spiritual currents. This placement suggests that instead of being overly action-oriented in a physical way, Mars energy often works in more subtle and intuitive forms. For these individuals, the battle often happens internally-in the subconscious, in dreams, or in their connection to the spirit world.

Mars in the 12th house people often experience a sense of being guided by invisible forces, and they can be highly receptive to messages or signs from the spirit realm. This doesn't always mean they consciously hear or see spirits, but rather that they might feel guided by an internal voice or experience moments of divine timing that feel too precise to be mere coincidence. They may also experience heightened sensitivity to energy, such as a feeling of being watched, sudden shifts in mood or vivid dreams. Its not a common occurrence to hear ringing in your ears when you’re picking and feeling up on certain energies with these natives!

Since Mars 12H is a powerful subtle energy this makes spirits from the spiritual realm more attracted to them, Mars 12H natives are very assertive and felt by these spirits hence why certain spirits like to latch onto them. Its not common either to see spirits, see things move suddenly and even a spirit taking control over your body when you’re asleep. It sounds scary but don’t let this make you afraid, I once fell into this when I was around 8 or 9 when I was sleeping and a spirit had woken me up in the middle of the night and made me literally slam my face into my headboard that made the principal think I was getting hurt at home, i was always targeted by this spirit. I was the only one who could speak to it and make them do certain things like move toys and such. I didnt realize at the time I was connecting with aggresive spirits 😅 and not God. Its highly important for Mars 12H natives to strongly protect themselves when they are asleep because when you are asleep the veil between the spiritual realm and physical realm is very thin!

Mars 12H natives embody this spirtual warrior archetype, they can feel a calling to fight or stand up for spiritual causes or to protect others, but they do this in a way that is not outwardly visible to others. Mars 12H natives might actively avoid conflict when it comes to spiritual warfare or protecting their energy and their peace. They may also engage in energy work, spiritual practices, or rituals in private to protect themselves from unwanted spiritual influence. This is often done subtly or privately, as they don't always like to broadcast their spiritual strength. Their Mars energy in the 12th house can make them exceptionally good at clearing negative energy, transmuting it, and defending themselves from energetic or spiritual attacks, but they may prefer to do so behind the scenes, where others don't see it.

Mars in the 12th house natives may also experience periods of isolation or retreat, where they feel the need to withdraw from the physical world to connect with the unseen world. These moments of solitude allow them to recharge spiritually, process subconscious material, and connect with higher realms of consciousness. During these times, they may feel a deep connection with their higher self or with the spiritual beings guiding them.

When it comes to spiritual practices, these individuals are likely to have a natural talent for healing or working with energy, whether it's through prayer, meditation, crystals, or other metaphysical practices. Mars in the 12th house helps them channel life force energy in a quiet, powerful way, almost like a spiritual warrior operating in the background, quietly shifting energy around them.

Its important to watch out as a Mars 12H native what you are putting your energy into as these things will manifest almost immediately. When you decide to shift your attention to other IMPORTANT things you will often notice your energy was literally the foundation for whatever negative thing that was happening. So be Aware! You know how powerful your energy is.

This was a long post but as a Mars 12H native, I rarely see any accurate or in depth posts of Mars 12H individuals, I had to really dig into my experiences to understand this was Mars 12H influence all along.. In my opinion, Mars 12H natives deserve so much more respect for what they do because a lot of it goes unseen and for multiple reasons lol. I havent wrote in a while but I was getting a huge urge calling to post about this. If any mars 12h individuals relate to any of these experiences please let me know because I’d love to hear from you! and please be careful 💟 may god protect your divine energy, space and you ☮️

[cosycafune]

LOOSE STRINGS /21 DAYS.

you’re xavier’s loose strings, the twines that contort around his sanity. you, you consume him, so what happens when you both share a kindled kiss? a kiss after 21 days.

Smitten, enamoured by ample butterflies, your eyes draw to a desire-consumed Xavier. An intimate seriousness coats Xavier’s eyes whilst his gentle hands cup your lithe cheek. A softness you had always felt resurfaced, painting out the vulnerability you had kept slightly close to your chest.

“Xavier,” Muttering, moments away from gathering his plush lips, you could only seal your eyes with his.

“Y/n,” Uttering your name with yearning, Xavier casts his parted lips nearer towards your own.

A prestigious longing consumes him, curling around the subtle restraint his fingers loosely carry. Loose strings adhere to his mental frame, gifting you the threads of emotions he would always indirectly propose. To you, you viewed Xavier as someone you cherish dearly — regardless of whether a mission consumed the two of you now. No matter if you had spent twenty-one days within this home, conforming to a routine that accommodates the both of you.

Within your puddling heart, aching consumes you. Desperately, your physical structure yearned to house Xavier. Settling within a homely twilight, your ears focus on Xavier’s desperate breaths. Swooning, your abdomen contorting, you attempt to compose the forbidden serenity within you.

“Xav…” Before a word could slip from your lips, Xavier’s halting completely crumbles your urges to speak.

“May I?” Knowing what Xavier’s implying, you cast yourself into flaunting your hearty tension.

“Of course,” Gifting consent, your heart stammers towards Xavier’s swole lips hungrily smearing upon your own.

Entwined with Xavier’s ample heart, you discover yourself perfectly caged and moulded against his physique. Breathily grunts consume the both of you, leaving Xavier to momentarily pull back — greeting you with starry eyes.

Choppily breathing, your heart fails to suspend its thundering — only for Xavier to completely steal further kisses from you. Not an ounce of you grew up caring about the rolling cherries, only contained by the purest form and essence of Xavier.

As your fingers twitch with intimate passion, your lips carve each notion of Xavier’s mouth within your mind. Within this newfound lighting, you can’t help but completely bask within everything of him — unwilling to ponder on whatever else lingers.

The rustling winds, the consuming sunlight, the beautiful ambience, you couldn’t care less. Right now, you are burrowed within your fantasy as a married couple. Everything in you was reluctant to resign the perfection that adorns the both of you. In the beauty of this moment, the two of you aren’t dismantling wanderers. You’re finally fitting the vacant moulds of each other.

And then, Xavier gently draws back — panting mercilessly. However, his cool fingers cling to your hips. Xavier’s disinclined, tainted by the thought of you fading away — sculpting into a form that disregards you. Currently, he has you — and that’s all that matters.

“Please tell me this won’t be a one-time thing? That it isn’t an act?” Softly questioning you, Xavier’s glimmering gaze endows upon your own.

“As if,” Bluntly proclaiming, puffing out your cheeks, Xavier sincerely draws you into another kiss.

The two of you can’t help but wallow in this beautiful moment.

do not modify, re-upload my work or claim them as your own. all rights are reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[consistencynevermether]

Hiii, I really love your writing!!

Hear me out on this: flirty-drunk mc with Vere

THANK YOU SO MUCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-🎀 anon

Tysm thats so kind! here's some absolutely wasted Mc and Vere shenanigans, hope you enjoy! also i feel like this is the first fic I've uploaded at a reasonable time and not midnight lmaooo.

content: Vere x gn! reader, SFW, cannon typical swearing/violence, 1.7 words.

Oh hell no.

That was Vere's first thought when he saw you walk into the wet wick, barely able to stand on your own, stumbling in absolutely wasted while Ais supported most of your weight. 

“What the fuck happened to them?!” Vere asked incredulously. 

“We got into a drinking competition. I won.” Ais responded simply, before dumping your limp body on Veres lap and heading towards the exit. “Have fun with all that” he smirked as he headed out the door before Vere could get a single word in. 

Vere wasn't sure whether he was annoyed by you, or deeply amused. On one hand, you had never gotten so drunk you were basically helpless, which was a stupid thing to do, and he had no desire to babysit your ass. On the other hand, this also meant you might embarrass yourself, which Vere very much wanted to see. 

But he would be responsible, and take you to your room, like a good person. How boring. 

He lifted you with extreme ease, but as soon as he headed up the stairs to your room, you began to get very uncooperative. 

“Noooooo” you whined. “I wanna stay down here. Please Ais?”

‘Wrong monster dipshit.” Vere deadpanned.

Your eyes lit up as you realized whose arms you were currently in. 

“Vere!” you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Any normal person would have been thrown off balance and probably fallen down the stairs, but Vere swiftly corrected the weight balance to accommodate for you drunkenly hugging him. 

Vere couldn't help but preen internally at your excitement to see him. 

“You come here often?” You wiggled your eyebrows at your comment, clearly having fun. 

“Come onnnnn let me stay downstairs for a while. I’ll be safe with such a strong and talented monster protecting me.” You said, Batting your eyelashes as you spoke before bursting out into laughter.

Clearly, you were drunk and could barely form half a thought. But Vere smirked regardless. You never openly praised him like this when sober, even if you were just doing it for fun now, he was enjoying the ego boost. 

“Alright we can stay down there for a while, but you can't wander off.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke but had a smile in his eyes. 

“Yaaaaaaay”

Vere headed back down to the bar and took a seat on one of the worn leather couches in the back. He set you down so your legs were across his lap and kept a firm grip on your waist. Just to be sure you wouldn't run away at the first shiny light you saw. 

“So” Vere leaned in so his face was right next to yours, a mischievous smile playing on his face. “You seemed happy to see me instead of Ais.” he singsonged. 

You gave a wide lopsided smile and shifted so you were now straddling his lap.

“Hey, hey Vere, do you wanna know a secret,” you questioned. 

Veres' smile became downright diabolical. 

“Oh yes. Please tell me.” he gleefully replied. 

“Your my favorite person in this whole fucking city,” you whispered into his ear, then began to giggle and rested your face on his shoulder, his blood-red hair pooling on your face. 

Vere wasn't sure how to react. You were never this direct, ever. He half expected you to tell him he's a little bitch as the secret. But your snark had been lost in the alcohol and all that was left was a very honest and very drunk individual. 

Vere had no defense.

“You're my favorite too,” Vere responded quietly, in a rare truly honest moment.

“Even more than Ais?” you mumbled into his neck.

“Yes, even more than him,” Vere confirmed.

Vere was slightly shocked by his own words. He didn’t know when it had happened, but somehow you’d become closer to him than Ais was.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. You're so obsessed with meeeee.” you teased.

“EXCUSE ME???” Vere exclaimed. 

Where the fuck did that come from?

You began to toy with his hair, your hand snaking around his head to undo the bun he kept half his hair in. You had already forgotten your previous comment and were focused on your new mission. 

“Hey now-” Vere started.

But it was too late. You chucked the pin holding his hair together across the bar. 

Vere gave you a very annoyed look. 

But you only looked back with a slight smile as you began to brush his bangs to the side. 

“Let me guess, you're stunned by my beauty?” Vere teased.

“I’m glad you like me more than Ais. Does that make me a bad person?” You questioned. Completely ignoring his question. 

Vere simply looked to the side and began fiddling with a strand of his hair. He truly didn’t know how to respond to you when you were like this.

“Don’t change the topic, you think I’m gorgeous don’t you?” Vere finally responded in a light tone. 

You crossed your arms and furrowed your brows. As if you were truly putting thought into this silly little question. 

“I know you don’t always look like this.” You finally responded. “I want to see what you really look like.”

Veres' mood began to sour. There was really no need to bring that up. You were always so damn nosy. 

“I wouldn’t show you in a million years” Vere scoffed, still trying to keep a joking tone. 

But you looked genuinely sad.

“Why not?” You questioned.

“Why do you care so damn much?” 

“Because I want to know you.” 

“You do know me.” 

“Yea, well It’s not good enough Vere.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

You furrowed your brow in annoyance. And began to glare at Vere.

Seriously?? What was your problem now?

“It’s not fair. I know Ais knows what your true face looks like. I hate it. I hate that he gets to know more than me.” You said with fists clenched, looking like you were about to storm off in drunken sorrow. 

“Trust me, darling, you’ll like this face much better.” 

An attempt to pacify you. 

“Vere, I really couldn’t give less of a damn what you look like. And I hate that you think I do.” 

“Mhm. You say that now. And I’m not debating with someone who won’t tell me what those are for.” Vere said and pointed to the bandages around your hands.

You went quiet after that, unwilling to look Vere in the eyes. It seems even when drunk, you were tight-lipped about whatever you were hiding from him. 

You removed yourself from Vere and instead sat next to him on the leather couch, clearly pouting. 

“Ugh, seriously? why are you acting like this?” Vere moaned. 

“Because it’s you. Do you think I give a fuck about what Kuras or Ais or Mhin really look like? I couldn’t care less, because they are my friends. But you're you. I don’t want to know them like I want to know you. I want you to look at me and know that I would never be scared of what you really look like.” You responded, facing him as you spoke.

Your little speech's impact was lessened by the fact that you slurred every third word and swayed slightly from all the alcohol. Gods, how much had you and Ais had?

“And if you are scared? You're only human after all.” Veres' voice was low and measured. 

“I can’t be scared. That would mean losing you. You're so much more than appearance Vere. I love being around you. I love your talents and passion. I love your horrible little attitude and how rewarding it is when I can finally get you to laugh at one of my dumb jokes. I love-” you trailed off.

Being wasted had made you more honest than ever, but you still had some restraint. Whatever it was you were going to say, you quickly closed your mouth and went silent, deciding to pick at a loose thread on your clothes instead. 

“Alright. You're drunk enough. Time to go to bed.” Vere proclaimed. 

You flipped him off and turned your nose up.

Which was not very effective at stopping him from throwing you over his shoulder and marching you upstairs to your room. 

“Your so fucking annoying you know that?” You snipped.

Vere simply threw your pajamas over to you in response. 

Eventually, you got changed in your bathroom and got into your bed. And after you begged, bribed, and cried, you finally convinced Vere to sleep in your bed as well, and you fell asleep drunkenly hugging his tail.

The next morning, your head throbbed and pounded in the worst way. You removed your face from the pillow you had face-planted on and wiped away some of the dried drool on your cheek. Your eyes felt bloodshot and crusty, your hair was disheveled, and your arms felt weak and shaky. What the fuck happened last night? 

You turned to your right and saw Vere in your bed, also starting to wake up. 

“Vere, why are you in my room? Wait, how did I get back to my room?” you questioned, your voice raspy

Vere took his time, arching his back and giving an exaggerated yawn before smirking at you.

“Oh? Do you not remember our heartfelt moments last night? All the juicy little emotions you spilled to me? How you clinged to me in drunken obsession? I mean, I knew you were obsessed with me but darling, desperation is not a good look on you.”

You groaned and face planted back onto your pillow.

“I actually hate you,” you whined. 

“Now that's what I like to hear” Vere proclaimed while poking your sides as you tried to rewrap yourself back into your blanket. “Now, call me your god and ruler, and I'll be so benevolent as to get you a glass of water.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that on your to-do list?”

“GO AWAY VERE”

You heard his laughter get quieter as he sauntered out of your room to let you deal with your hangover. You had no memories of last night, but you knew one thing: once you felt better, you were going give Vere the hardest time imaginable. 

For now, though, you crawled out of bed and grabbed some water to soothe your pain and wonder what the hell you had said last night.

[changbunnies]

One & Only (18+)

♡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff, smut, pre-established relationship, some light plot to establish the setting, college au but it's a background detail

♡ Word Count: 4.6k

♡ Summary: Following a perfect Valentine's Day date, you decide you're ready for the next step in your relationship with Chan. You want him, and you know he wants you- and the only thing left to do is tell him exactly how you feel.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (pretty, baby) corruption kink, virgin + inexperienced reader, mutual masturbation, fingering (f rec), handjob

♡ Notes: i wanted to upload something short (compared to what i usually write anyways) for valentines day and i’ve been wanting to write corruption kink channie for a while now, so what better time to do it! i hope you enjoy <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You sighed as you flopped on the bed, freshly changed into your pajamas- next to you lies Chan, your best friend and roommate turned boyfriend, easily the love of your life, and you nervously chew your bottom lip, faced with the choice of what to do next now that your first Valentine's Day as a couple had come to an end. Returning to your shared apartment, nerves rattling away at you as you changed out of your prettiest, formal dress and now on the bed, trying your best not to overthink your situation. 

If you were being blunt and honest, you just really wanted to have sex with him- or at least take the next step in that direction. But the thought of it was utterly nerve wracking; every time he looked at you with his handsome, dimpled smile and pretty brown eyes, and you pictured seeing that same expression while he was hovering over you in your newly shared bed, it made your heart race out of control.

After an awkward, impromptu confession that led to you becoming a couple, the two of you slowly began sharing your space, until one day you stopped going back forth between bedrooms and decided to just share one. You chose your room to share in the end- Chan, the gentleman that he is, let you have the larger room when you moved into this apartment as roommates, and it was the natural choice when deciding which of you would be moving their belongings into the other room. And it was nice, exciting even, to help Chan move his belongings into your space until it became not justs yours but his too. 

But lately, sharing a bedroom served a problem- now that you slept in the same bed every night, you were becoming increasingly more aware of how badly you want him. And thanks to being friends and roommates before you were together, you knew had experience- experience that you felt you were sorely lacking. And it's not like you ever felt shame over the fact that you were still a virgin in college (as it's much more realistic than tv shows and movies would lead you to believe) but somewhere deep down you worried your lack of experience would make things awkward and unenjoyable.

That awareness of experience was equal, because in turn Chan was well aware of your sexual history (or lack thereof). You knew he wouldn't judge you, he would never be anything but kind and considerate, but it was hard to prevent self doubt from digging its claws into your embarrassingly fragile heart. You knew it was silly to feel this way knowing all that you do about Chan's character and his care for you that extends beyond titles of friend or girlfriend, but your nerves ate away at you regardless.

You kissed people before Chan, and that was unfortunately the extent of your prior experience. Your kisses were shared with fleeting crushes in high school, inside the confines of short lived relationships that never made it past first base. You didn't mind at the time- you weren't ready for more then, and you weren't going to compromise on sex just to keep a relationship going. But now here you were, an adult with little to no experience; and now that you were ready you were plagued by the idea that all of the awkwardness and exploration you could've gotten past in your adolescence will now be Chan's burden.

He wouldn't actually view it as such, you knew for a complete fact that he wouldn't- but the thing about self doubt is that logical thought does little to prevent it from taking root. And you felt terrible because Chan noticed you were feeling off since coming back to the apartment following your date; of course he did, he always noticed when you weren't acting like your usual self. You had such a perfect date together and now you were ruining it with your virginal rumination.

"What's on your mind, pretty?" Chan asks as he tucks the fallen hair behind your ears, the beautiful necklace he gifted you as your date came to a close perfectly adorning your neck. A silver locket in the shape of a heart, with dainty gems accented into the patterned engraving, which you opened to find a picture of the two of you after your first date. It was so perfect that you were speechless, and he admitted it took him months of saving to afford it (which was why your Christmas gift was something much less expensive in comparison and instead purely sentimental.)

"I-I'm sorry, I just.." you swallowed as you looked at him, your heart squeezing both from your nerves and from just how soft his expression is. "I was just thinking.. that I want to do more than just.. makeout, y'know..?"" You try your best not to blush from the admission, especially not when he starts smiling at you, but you can't stop your face from burning, and you turn your gaze away from his eyes, embarrassment taking its hold.

"Baby, look at me," he speaks softly but you can hear the smile in his voice before you even meet his gaze again to see it. It's a gentle smile that relays sweetness and care, but there's an underlying excitement beneath; because while he would never do anything to rush or pressure you along, he obviously wants more too. You're gorgeous, his best friend, his dream girl- of course he wants you. "You sure? I know it's a special day but we don't have to rush it or anything. I've already got the perfect gift."

You smile- timidly, but genuinely. He's so impossibly sweet, always; it's one of the main reasons why you fell for him in the first place. "Yeah, I'm sure- and I promise it's not just because it's Valentine's Day. I've been thinking about it, and I really want to, I'm just.. nervous is all. I've never.. you know.." You hesitantly meet his stare, your hand now nervously and unconsciously fiddling with the locket he gifted you that hangs from your neck.

It’s unceremonious the way his cock starts to throb from your timid words alone, almost shameful. He doesn't even know how much further than making out you're even going to go, but his body reacts regardless, independently from his brain that recognizes your need for slow, careful affection. There’s a million things he wants to say- “we’ll go slow” or “I’ll take care of you” or even “I love you” but his brain practically short circuits when you lift yourself from the pillows, locket dangling as you come closer to him, leaning down to press your lips to his. 

A moment of confidence? Or maybe you already knew all the things he’d say and didn’t need to hear them? You’re not entirely atop him- that’s still a step too far in uncharted territory, but this at least.. Kissing him is something you can do without getting in your own head about experience and desirability. His fingers rest behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you- softly and slowly at first, the way he always does. It’s always a build up, his lips taking their time, his every caress careful but deliberate. 

He always makes your heart race when he kisses you, makes your stomach do somersaults and blood run hot. Nerves aside, it’s undeniable how much you want him. One hand on his chest and the other in his hair, he’s careful when sits up from the bed to adjust your positions, conscious to not cause you to remove your hands from his body as you move in tandem with him. You let him lay you back down, catching just a glimpse of him hovering over you before your eyes are closing again as he kisses you. When his tongue licks your lips, you open your mouth to him without so much as a thought- it’s automatic, innate the way you welcome him into you. 

It always makes you dizzy, the way Chan’s tongue dances around yours, swirling and building the excitement from deep within your gut to new heights you didn’t know possible. This time however, there’s an added desire, his kisses and gentle touches more impassioned with the promise that you’ll be giving him more; more skin to kiss and touch, to feel under his calloused fingertips, to admire and love and venerate. You’re all he wants, all he’s ever wanted, really; and he wants you to know, desperately wants to show you how much he desires you. 

One arm holds his weight up while the hand on your face starts to trail away, fingers tracing the skin it travels over. Careful, slow, deliberate- it’s foreign but comfortable, somehow. When he hesitates, you affirm, you chase his touch, you pull him back, you silently plead with desperate eyes and eager breaths. Your face grows hot when your shirt comes off, his gaze hungrier when met with the sight of your bare chest, nipples hardened more so from the building anticipation than from the cool air. 

He wants to dote on you- call you cute, caress your burning cheeks, kiss the blush on your face and feel the heat of it on his lips. So he does, slowly so as to not overwhelm you, word choice careful as to not embarrass you. Your cheeks burn brighter, but you smile; a cute, shy one that his cock reacts to in equal measure to his heart. Pretty, beautiful, cute, he says it all as he starts to trail his kisses around the shell of your ear and to your neck. 

And you’re shy, impossibly so, but you indulge in the affection, as happy as you are timid and out of your depth. You can count on a single hand the amount of times he started kissing your neck during a makeout session, and you were always left wanting more but were much too sheepish to admit your building desire. But after that first time, when you were in the bathroom that night and saw the trail of small, just barely visible bruises left behind on your neck, you knew- you wanted more, and he was being considerate, holding back for your sake. 

You didn’t need that anymore, nor did you want him to- don’t hold back, don’t hesitate, leave your mark for all to see, touch and kiss and suck wherever you want. That’s what you want to tell him, but it’s hard to formulate that thought into words when the feeling of his lips on your neck and fingers ghosting over your nipples makes your brain grow fuzzy. He’ll get the hint though, you think, when you tilt your head to the side to allow him easier access to your skin and a whine leaves your lips. 

He can feel your body tremble, can hear and feel your breath hitch when his attention to your skin grows in intensity. Harsher sucks to your pulse point, more deliberate rubs of your nipples between his fingers- still careful, but no longer entirely delicate, as if you’re made of porcelain. No, his touches are now firmer, with more purpose and intention, more confidence now that it’s clear your admission of wanting more was not something said just to appease his growing desire to have you. 

He throbs when he pulls back to look at you; face flushed, skin varying in shades of pink and red, breath a near pant, hair fanned out and growing messy, the locket he gave you still staring back at him in the middle of it all. His fingers trail over it and you watch him carefully, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. “Should I take it off..?” you ask, wondering if it’ll get in the way somehow and he quickly shakes his head, leaning back down to you, his lips just barely touching yours. 

“Fuck no, leave it on. I love seeing it on you like this. Like-” he stops a moment, carefully considering if what he’s going to say will scare you off. But fuck it, you’re all being honest tonight, right? So why shouldn’t he say what he’s really thinking? “Like you’re mine. All mine,” he finally says, and though shy, you smile as you expertly play into it, feeding his fantasies. “I am yours Channie, I’m always yours.” Oh, you really have him now (as if he wasn’t already impossibly yours to begin with- you don’t even know the depth of his belonging to you.) 

Chan thought about you like this so many times- for years if he's being honest. He always felt guilty; the way he fantasized about you, his best friend for all his formative years and then his roommate, spread out for him and crying his name, clutching him so tightly that your nails dig into his skin. He just couldn't control it, and even his dreams, which were once innocent in nature (if you could believe it), you were there, whimpering on his cock, back arching as hushed whispers of praise were spoken into your ears, your eyes rolling back and drool escaping the corner of your parted lips. 

He wanted you, fuck, he wanted you, always have and he’s sure he always will. A single kiss and then he’s pulling back again, his hands trailing just over the hem of your pajama shorts. You unconsciously hold your breath, and maybe it’s his ability to read the nerves all over your expression that lead him to hesitate, capturing your gaze with sweet consideration despite how much he yearns to see all of you. “Nervous?” he asks and you nod, thankful when he kisses away the tension building in your body. 

“It’s okay if you’re not ready for that yet,” he reassures you, taking his hands away from your hips and instead moving them up to your waist, where he knows you’re comfortable with his touch. “I-I am, I want to, I promise! It’s just..” you trail off, and Chan offers you a sweet smile, stroking your cheek as you once again fumble nervously with the locket on your neck. “It’s a lot, I know,” he finishes for you, and you’re relieved he understands (not that you even suspected otherwise- he’s always been the sweetest guy you know.) 

He returns to kissing you softly and sweetly, his hands exploring the regions he knows you to be ready for, never wandering too far below your stomach. When he pulls away, your curiosity gets the better of you- you look where he rests between your legs, his erection noticeably straining in his sweatpants, a wet patch of what can only be pre-cum darkening the gray fabric. While you feel shy looking at it, Chan seems to welcome the curiosity, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Want to see it?” he asks and you gulp, tearing your eyes away to look back at his face. “Y-Yeah, can I..?” 

“Course, baby,” he replies easily, his smile growing ever so slightly as he straightens up to remove his pants. You swallow, blush flaring as you watch him slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Rather than returning to his spot between your legs, he settles next to you, sitting up against the headboard and making himself comfortable. Chan looks at you, watching as your eyes travel and drink him in; you take notice of how his cock twitches as you stare, how pre-cum steadily drips from the tip, how prominently his vein runs down the length of it.

You're not sure what words are appropriate when it comes to describing your feelings towards seeing him bare, but you know you like it- you really like it. Your gaze makes him throb- desire, need, love, all wrapped together with a pretty ribbon of innocence and purity. He's being patient, but fuck, he wants to ruin you, wants to see your eyes well with pretty tears and body painted with ropes of his cum. "Do you want to touch it?" he asks, hopeful and raging with want- for you, your touch, your kiss, your pleasured voice, everything.

"Y-Yes, but.. I don't know how to.. how do I make you feel good..?" you ask with the cutest pout he's ever seen, and he truly feels like his heart is getting struck by lightning; you're going to drive him insane with need before the night is over. "I can show you," he offers, smiling when you quickly nod. You're amazed by how confidently he takes it in his hand, not a single ounce of shyness to be found in his actions, unlike you; you wonder if you'll ever be the same- able to act without timid embarrassment eating away at you.

Even compared to his large hands, Chan's cock appears impossibly thick, and you swallow as you watch him collect pre-cum from the head before he spreads it down the entirety of his length. His fingers trace the vein before he takes it fully in his hand, his gaze entirely fixed on your face as he starts to slowly pump himself. You swallow, completely mesmerized, the butterflies in your stomach thrashing violently. You look back up to his face when you hear his breath shudder, blush growing with the realization that your stare had an effect on him.

When Chan lets himself look away from your face, he notices the way your thighs press together, how you squirm in place as you watch him, yearning for touch- and it gives him an idea. "Can I-" he exhales a shaky breath, fisting his cock just the slightest bit faster when you meet his gaze again, "Can I see how you make yourself feel good too? Can you show me?" Your face burns hotter, your legs pressing harder together as his question rings in your ears. You swallow, impossibly nervous but equally as excited, and you nod timidly after a few moments of careful consideration.

"Y-Yeah, okay," you mumble as you shift your position to get your pajamas and panties down your legs. You timidly watch his expression as you settle yourself across from him, aware enough that he should have a good view of everything (even if the action of spreading your legs for him makes you want to cover your face in embarrassment.) Chan exhales another breath as he tightens his grip on his cock, licking his lips when he sees just how wet you are. You're dripping and it's all for him, because of him- finally, his dreams become realized.

Similarly to what he did to himself, you rub your fingers up and down between your folds, gathering the arousal on your fingers before you bring them to your aching clit. You bite your lip, shy as ever and embarrassed by the noises that leave you. You close your eyes in an effort to ebb away the shyness and focus on the pleasure, but you're still starkly aware of his presence, of his eyes watching your every move. You can hear his low groans and harsh breaths, can hear the sound of his fist pumping faster when you let out another whimper between your bitten lip.

It astounds you how something this embarrassing can also be so arousing- you don't think you've ever been more excited than you are now, and the mess between your thighs and under your ass is definitely a testament to that. As the moment continues, with you timidly opening your eyes to watch him again, he doesn't fail to notice that you focus entirely on your clit, so he has to ask- "Do you ever- fuck- put your fingers inside?"

God, as if your face isn't already hot enough- but it's a fair question, and you answer as best you can between the noises you fail to keep internal. "S-Sometimes, but- it's- I don't-" you try, though you fail to formulate the words you wish to say; partly due to pleasure fogging your brain, and partly due to not even knowing how to phrase your thoughts the best in the first place. "It's hard? Doesn't feel as good?" Chan takes an educated guess, and you nod, relieved he found the words for you.

He understands- your fingers are dainty, and it must be hard trying to get them angled deep, hard to find the spot that makes you see stars when you have to contort your body to barely comfortable positions. "If you want- if you're comfortable, I can.. do it for you..? Help you?" Oh. If you're being honest, you've thought about how good his fingers must feel so many nights while touching yourself, wondering about how good they'd make you feel, how expertly they'd make you cum. "R-Really? You want to?" you ask- perhaps a stupid question, but there's still a part of you that can't even believe he's attracted to you, even this far into your relationship.

"God, yes, isn't it obvious? C'mere, baby," Chan beckons you back to him, and you oblige. You crawl your way back to your spot next to him, sitting on your knees but with your legs still spread apart. He takes his dominant hand off his cock, bringing it instead between your legs, slowly rubbing and getting his fingers wet enough to slide easily inside. His opposite hand resumes the motion on his cock, and you unconsciously tremble- both because of the hand between your legs, and because the sight before you is so fucking hot (to put it bluntly.)

"You're so fucking sexy," Chan utters, starting with just one finger, pressing it inside slowly, and your reaction is immediate- body shuddering as a gasp escapes you, biting your lip as he pumps his finger slowly, ensuring you're comfortable and adjusted before he adds another. "Pretty, so pretty," he continues, the tips of fingers rub your deepest parts with hardly any effort on his part, and when he finds your sensitive spot you positively jolt, every nerve constricting as if thrown in an ice bath, body tense, stomach clenching as the pleasure builds.

"My gorgeous fucking baby- feels good, doesn't it?" he asks, a theoretical question with no expected answer, but you're whining and nodding your head, your hips acting independently of the rest of you, rolling and bouncing and chasing every ounce of pleasure that can be derived from Chan's fingers. He presses his thumb to your clit, simply keeping pressure there as the motion of riding his fingers provides all the friction you need.

"C-Channie, feels so good, think I'm gonna-" before you can finish voicing the words, you're gasping and crying out. You're hot, your dripping with sweat, you're utterly floating as you're hit with wave after wave of explosive pleasure. He doesn't dare remove his fingers until you've finished riding it out, but to his surprise, you grab his wrist when he starts to pull his hand away, your eyes glassy and pleading.

"More? Please, more?" you ask so sweetly, and again he throbs, licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you- debauched, dewy, and flushed, world shattered in the best way possible. "Yeah baby, I can give you more. Course I can," Chan says before he's thrusting his fingers inside as if there was never a pause. Your eyes roll back as you bite your lip, your grip on his wrist tightening as you grind down against his fingers, always meeting them halfway.

When you open your eyes to look at him again, you can't help but notice that the pace of the hand on his cock is sloppy and uneven, and while you doubt you'll fare much better, you decide to take over for him, to try to please him just as much as he has you. You hear him utter a quiet curse as he takes his hand away, letting you replace it with your own. It's a sight, a feeling, that he wants engraved in his memory- you, riding his fingers while your hand desperately pumps his cock, giving him your best effort and trying your hardest to make him cum despite how much your arousal fills your brain with fluff.

"Fuck, baby-" he groans, reaching his hand out to the nape of your neck, pulling you down to capture your lips in a kiss, his tongue shoving it's way in your mouth before you can even process that your lips are touching. His hips buck when your thumb glides over the tip, sensitive and leaking, your soft hands sticky and wet and perfect. You hold his gaze when the kiss breaks, all your shy tendencies and thoughts of embarrassment seeming to fade to the very back of your mind, replaced entirely by desire and need- not just to cum again, which you unmistakably want, but to watch Chan cum too, to watch him fall apart and know that it was all thanks to you.

The room is filled with the slick sounds of your hands working each other, of heavy, panting breaths, of low groans from Chan and barely restrained, quiet whimpers from you, a sinful symphony played exclusively for your own ears. "Oh fuck, fuck-" he grits out, clenching his jaw and brows knitting together as he tries to stave his orgasm off long enough to watch you fall apart again first.

You can feel his vein pulsing beneath your fingers, can feel him twitch and throb, and there's a sense of pride you've never felt before that comes with it- it doesn't just feel good to cum, you realize, it feels good to watch your lover cum too, to be the reason they're losing composure and falling apart. "Y-You're close, Channie? Gonna cum?" He groans as he nods, licking his drying lips as his head falls back, unsure if he can hold it back much longer than he already has.

"Yeah baby, gonna- gonna cum for you, fuck-," Chan, who knows it's only a matter of seconds before he has no choice but to let go, mercilessly targets your sweet spot, his fingers all but drilling into it as his thumb rubs messy circles on your clit. Your hips stutter before your body seizes with overwhelming pleasure, the pace of your hand on Chan's cock faltering as your eyes roll back and you surrender yourself to the blissful sensation washing over you.

Chan follows quickly, the sight of you cumming again on his fingers breaking the already impossibly thin line holding him together, hot cum shooting out and spilling on his chest and stomach. You collapse next to him, legs aching (your knees especially) and body utterly exhausted. Your shyness returns when he turns his head to look at you with a sweet smile on his lips, and you blush as you return the smile.

You're both messy, in desperate need of a shower and a change of bedsheets before you actually sleep, but you bask in the moment regardless. He reaches for a tissue on the nightstand to clean the cum off his stomach before it dries and becomes a pain to wash off, and the moment it's done you're back in his arms, being hugged tight with kisses pressed to your forehead, your warm cheeks, and then your lips.

You curl into him, one of your hands holding the locket as you return his affection, pouring all your unspoken love and affection into the kiss you share. Your first Valentine's Day of hopefully a lifetime more, your joy immeasurable, your love boundless; a perfect day with an equally perfect end. You tell him you love him as he helps you clean up in the shower, he tells you he loves you as he helps you get dressed before he dresses himself, you share “i love you”s as you relax into each other in bed. You sleep, happy and warm and loved, secure in the knowledge that truly, this is only the beginning, and there’s still years worth of experiences left to share.

[phoenixblaze1412]

HIIIII! How are youu? I know you may be very busy but hear me out! I really like love your posts and wanted to know your headcannons if Dottore (possibly his other adult clones too🤭) had an s/o (reader) that was his lab assistant. Like how would their relationship function? (I’m just asking what would be different from a relationship with dottore if reader wasn’t his assistant) 👀 I’m writing this as I should be studying for a history exam tomorrow but i just need to know T^T. You normally upload a lot and I’m glad because Dottore content on Tumblr is still rare (kinda) but its fine if you don’t write for this one (I just wanted to share my thoughts) Byee!

You started as his lab assistant because you had a sharp mind, unwavering determination, and a surprising tolerance for his chaotic nature.

Dottore didn’t particularly care for personal relationships, but he respected intelligence. Over time, he grew fascinated by how quickly you adapted to his experiments and how you’d challenge him with your own insights.

The adult clones were equally intrigued by you, each trying to win your favor in their own unique ways.

Dottore is demanding, often expecting you to work tirelessly alongside him. However, he always notices your contributions and, in his own subtle way, shows his appreciation. For example, he might create a device to help you handle hazardous materials more easily or ensure you have everything you need to stay comfortable during long hours.

He’s not a fan of open affection in the lab, but when the two of you are alone, he allows small moments of tenderness, like brushing a stray hair from your face or murmuring praise for your work.

He’s highly protective of you, especially during dangerous experiments. If he feels the risk is too great, he’ll assign one of his clones to handle it instead.

The adult clones have varying degrees of admiration and jealousy toward you. They know you’re Dottore’s favorite, which makes them compete for your attention.

Some clones, like the Omega Segment, might act playfully to tease you, while others, like the more serious Iota Segment, focus on collaborating with you in the lab.

The Theta segment, in particular, enjoys teasing you, while the Zeta Segment might be more protective, seeing you as someone who balances their creator.

They often fight for your approval when presenting their own research, hoping to outshine one another.

Dottore is surprisingly possessive of you, especially when it comes to his clones. While he trusts you, he keeps a close eye on their interactions with you, ensuring none of them overstep.

In private, he’s much softer. He’s fascinated by your dedication not only to science but to him. He often pulls you into his arms after a long day, murmuring about how invaluable you are, not just as an assistant but as his partner.

He occasionally surprises you with small gifts like a beautifully crafted tool for your experiments or a rare ingredient you’ve been searching for.

You ground him in ways his clones never could. When he becomes too absorbed in his experiments, you’re the one who reminds him to eat, sleep, and take breaks.

He values your perspective precisely because it’s different. Your outside-the-box thinking occasionally sparks new ideas for his research.

His love language is acts of service: fixing things for you, crafting items to make your life easier, or ensuring your safety in subtle ways.

He’s endlessly curious about you, always asking questions to understand how your mind works. Your differences intrigue him, and he quietly admires your ability to stand your ground with him.

While he might not say “I love you” often, his actions speak louder than words. Whether it’s pulling you into his arms after a long day or ensuring you have everything you need to pursue your own passions, his affection is evident in every gesture.

Regardless of the scenario, Dottore often finds himself drawn to you during quiet moments. Whether it’s sharing a cup of tea or simply sitting in comfortable silence, he treasures these rare breaks from his chaotic life.

He enjoys debating with you, appreciating how your differing viewpoints challenge him to think in new ways.

Dottore is highly protective of you, even if he doesn’t show it openly. If anyone dares to harm you, they’ll quickly find themselves at the mercy of his wrath.

He’s not afraid to let his clones assist in protecting you, though he always makes it clear that he’s the one you rely on most.

While Dottore can be cold and calculating to others, he’s surprisingly gentle with you. His touches are soft, his words laced with uncharacteristic warmth.

The clones often tease him about how differently he acts around you, but he brushes off their comments with a smirk. Deep down, he knows they’re right but he's not going to admit that.

[chameleon66]

Her Funny Bunny

Author’s note: I haven’t uploaded a fic in a while (Because who thought depression and high school was a good combination). I just really haven’t found the spark in a while but I just really want to write something for Jax as he’s a very controversial character in the TADC fandom and I think he could be a real sweetie. I’m doing much better now and I hope to upload more in 2025 (But no promises) . I hope you enjoy this fic I wrote and have a good day/night.

Warnings: Cheer up tickles, teasing, angst, mean jokes (Let me know if I need to add anything)

Word count: 2907

It was quiet at the moment, which was pretty abnormal for the life of a cast member in The Amazing Digital Circus, but the only reason it was quiet was because the adventure hadn’t started yet. Right then the gang were all hanging out in the main area playing charades.

You know, just trying to enjoy a bit of normalcy before Caine comes to take them to that day's adventure. It was Ragatha’s turn while Zooble, Gangle, Pomni, and Kinger had to guess, they had all taken note of Jax’s absence but didn’t bring it up as no one saw it as something worrying or they didn’t want to bring it up for fear of bringing down the mood (cough, Ragatha, cough)

At the moment Ragatha was standing up waving in a highly sophisticated manner then grabbing the skirt of her dress and curtsying down. While the others tried to guess who she was.

“Some kind of queen?” Gangle thought out loud.

“Or princess?” Pomni added.

“An insect collection.” Kinger guessed for the 57th time.

Ragatha then blew a kiss out to them and said “The brave knights have arrived!”

A look of realization came across Pomni’s face and she said “Princess Loo!”

Ragatha stopped mid motion and nodded at Pomni who immediately cheered for herself.

“Great job Pomni.” Ragatha praised it, it was nice seeing everyone being so happy and casual. “Okay, Zooble, your go.”

Zoble groaned but regardless stood and went to the middle of the circle they had formed, they stood for a moment clearly considering who to pretend to be, then as if a lightbulb went off their eyes flashed then the illusion of a smirk came across their features.

Zooble crossed their arms over their chest and began tapping their foot rapidly against the ground with a scowl on their face. Clearly pretending to be mad.

Everyone went into thinking but Ragtha did make a mental note of how it was similar to how Jax would thump his foot against the ground when he was upset.

Then Zooble placed one fist on her hip and let the other fall before she broke out into improvised words, in a tone of voice that felt more alive than her normal tone. “I’m indirectly communicating to you all that I’m unhappy that no one is feeling sad so now I must go forth and cause pain and suffering because it’s the only way to cope with my big scary feelings.”

The others all began laughing though tried to cover their mouths with their hands, it was clear who Zooble was portraying but they were laughing too hard to try and guess.

Happy they got a reaction encouraging Zooble to keep going. “Oh yeah I’ll gladly jump off a building but heaven forbid a ear of corn crosses my path, cause otherwise I’ll hide under the nearest couch and shake as if the corn had threatened to kill me.”

Now everyone was practically dying of laughter while rolling around on the ground. Even Ragtaha was laughing quietly behind her hand.

Ragatha’s non button eye drifted away from the group only for her laugh to go silent and her smile drop as her eyes landed on the tall purple rubber hose cartoon looking rabbit who was partially hidden away by the wall of the other room.

Jax clearly wasn’t trying to hide his reaction though because his foot was thumping softly against the floor, his eyes were big with hurt yet with small square shaped pupils trembling in them and his ears were droopy. Small things one probably would think meant much if they hadn’t been secretly dating Jax for about six months.

A quick side eyed glance back the others told Ragatha they hadn’t become aware of the youngest cast member's presence. But when Ragtha glanced back Jax wasn’t behind the wall anymore instead walking out towards the others with a grin a bit too wide adoring his face.

The others still hadn’t noticed Jax until he was right behind Zooble until Jax spoke up. “Hey looks like something’s got you all in stitches, care to let me in on the joke.”

Everyone was gasping between laughs but Kinger calmed his first and then said. “I honestly don’t remember what we were doing.” Before falling back in hysterical laughter.

Jax only shrugged his shoulders before walking closer to Zooble before stopping just behind them. “Oh well that’s ok. I’ll just create myself something to laugh at.”

He then grabbed both of Zooble’s arms detaching them from their body and throwing them across the floor and through the door that led outside the circus tent.

“Ugh! Jax you f%#king @$$ho/e!” Zooble yelled as they began to make their way back to their missing limbs while Jax laughed at their misery, though it didn’t escape Ragatha how Jax’s laugh stopped and his face became less animatedly happy when Zooble was out of ear’s reach.

The awkward silence wasn’t long though as a grand puff of smoke transported Caine above their heads as he shouted “Good morning my little superstars! Who’s ready for a grand adventure?”

The adventure that day was pretty small, they were taking turns running an obstacle course Caine had made and whoever completed the course in the fastest time would be dubbed the winner.

Each of them went one at a time but it was clear that none of them were really built to be athletes as all of them even failed to complete the course. It could’ve been because they were all not very athletic or because Caine had added fire, razor blades, sharks, bees, and other stuff to make the course more ‘exciting’.

Between each person’s turn they all just stood off and watched them, while waiting for her turn though Ragatha noticed how docile Jax had seemed to become, while he was still making sarcastic comments and jokes at others expense they weren’t as sharp as his normally were.

She also saw how he had distanced himself away from everyone with his face being all glum with his normally ever present smile not there unless he knew somebody was looking at him.

By the time everyone had run the course, Caine declared that no one had won because no one finished so that meant they got no reward. After Caine had reset all of their avatars to rid them of their injuries he sent them off to go and do their own thing for the rest of the night.

Jax and Ragatha went with each other to Ragatha’s room to hang out. They walked in silence which was something else that concerned Ragatha as Jax was never quiet. Had Zooble’s comments really gotten to him that bad?

Ragatha really felt bad for Jax, sure he was a jerk to the others but just like everyone else here he had his whole life taken away from him when he put on that headset and being a jerk was just his way of keeping himself sane.

Ragatha knew she couldn’t let Jax just keep being sad so she decided to employ her best tactic guaranteed to cheer him.

Once they reached her room she opened the door and let Jax walk in first before going in after him. She shut the door behind her and readied herself to set her plan into motion.

“So Dollface, don’t you think it’s not far I didn’t win despite making it furthest on the course.” Jax sat down on her bed with one leg crossed over the other. Target achieved.

“Oh totally Jax.” She famed a sweet tone, then made a soft turn to face Jax. “If that is your real name.”

Jax’s ears and eyes perked up as he looked more directly at her in confusion. “What?’’

Ragatha smirked. “How do I know that this isn’t one of Caine’s tricks and that you’re one of his NPCs pretending to be Jax.”

Jax titled his head and lifted one eyebrow. “You’re taking crazy Doll, I’m not some dumb NPC.”

Ragatha’s smile only grew more mischievous with that comment. Of course she knew it was Jax but there was no he’d accept this without hearing a good reason first.

“You sure?” Ragatha leaned forward til her face was inches from Jax’s. “Cause earlier me and the others were playing charades and Zooble pretended to be you, which made me realize just how easy you are to impersonate.”

Jax’s face flushed a darker purple though he tried to hold the stern look on his face. “I’m not an NPC Rags, I’m Jax, your extremely handsome boyfriend.”

At last, the final part of Ragatha’s improvised plan was set. Now it was up to her.

“Well then you wouldn’t mind if I ran a simple test.”

Jax’s face now read as more curious above all else and seeing no sign that he wasn’t down to clown (As he would say) she wasted no time running then pouncing on top of him. Effectively holding him down with her own weight as Jax might have been the tallest in the circus but due to his thinness he was also very light weight wise.

She then proceeded to grab his sides with her plush doll hands and began to mercilessly squeeze and poke at them.

Jax’s goofy smile went back to his face and his face got blushy as he laughed. Ragatha immediately rejoiced at her small victory so far.

“Hahahahaha how is this hahahahaha helping?” Jax tried to squirm in her hold but her hands persistently remained on his form, attacking his waist with vigor.

“If you are truly my Jaxxy then I’d expect you to be just a precious sweetie while being tickled.” Ragatha explained, though she kept her true motive unsaid.

Through the months of them secretly being together Ragatha had come to see that Jax was a very affectionate guy who more than anything wanted to see her smile. So she had noticed whenever she was down, Jax would take the first opportunity when they were alone to tickle her until she swore to him she felt better.

And after she got him back a few times she had come to see that tickles were just one of Jax’s ways to show love. She had read in a book from the library Caine had for them at the circus that people sometimes project how they want to be shown love and do it to others in hopes they start doing it back.

Though he had never admitted to her, she had seen it in how genuinely happy he seemed after and how he always wanted to remain all snuggled up against her after too. So if there was one way she knew to make Jax feel better, it was tickling him to a pulp.

After Ragatha felt that Jax’s walls were down she spread her hands up to his ribs and began to get at them causing Jax’s laugh to jump up and become super cackly.

“Ragathahahahaha! It’s reheheheheheheheally mEHEHEHEHE.” Jax pleaded through his forever shut teeth.

“Hmmm-.” Ragatha hummed in consideration. “Jax is pretty ticklish on his ribs. But I think I better keep going for a little longer just to be sure.”

“Nohohohohohohoho! Ragdoll! Hahahahahahahaha.” Jax kept trying to squirm away from her hands but whenever he did her other hand would tickle the other side harder causing his body to try and squirm away from the opposite hand.

“You do have a super endearing laugh like Jax.” She observed

“You also have a lovely smile like him, you squint your eyes tighter when I hit a particularly bad spot.” She poked her fingers into the soft spots just below his ribs to prove it, and sure enough Jax’s eye shu tighter hand he let out a squeak with it.

“You also aren’t even trying to get me off you just like Jax..” She continued rattling off small things Jax was doing, keeping them sweet yet teasy which effectively flustered him.

“Wehehehehell Mahahahahahybe I’m Just lehehehehetting you hahahahahave your fun.” Jax retorted, trying to defend his lack of attempts to escape.

“Oh really?” Ragatha questioned, her eyes locking on her next target for tickles. “Since when is my boyfriend known for being a gentleman?”

“I cahahahahahahan behehehe nice whehehehen I wahahannahaha.”

“I’m still not quite sold on you mister.” Ragatha brought herself up and kissed the spot where Jax’s nose would be if he had one, making his laugh go all squeaky with a gentle hum to it.

“I had better do one more test just to be 100%.” Ragatha turned her body around and sat in front of Jax’s feet. Despite her now being off him Jax didn’t make an effort to get away from her despite most likely knowing where she’d be going. Instead just laying there limply trying to catch his breath.

Ragatha gave him a second to breathe before she took both of his feet in her arms and while holding them in her grasp with one hand she used the index finger on the other hand to gently tickle the silly pink heart paw pads he had on his feet.

Jax absolutely lost it. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO F%#K NOT THEHEHEHEHEHRE!”

His feet had always been one of those spots where you didn’t need a lot of force in your tickles to make him squeal like a tea kettle.

His feet had always been Ragatha's favorite tickle spots too, not only because it got the best reactions from him but also because his feet were just adorable to her. They had the appearance of paws with three toes and paw pads on the bottom of them. but the full anthropomorphic functionality of feet.

She was also happy she had chosen to sit in front of him to hold his feet because now she got a great view of his cute face, which only got cuter when he was being tickled. His eyes scrunched together, his ears flop haphazardly with his head as his body twisted trying to escape the tickly sensations, and his smile would be genuinely sweet and freaking precious.

Unlike the mischievous or fake smiles he’d give everyone else. This smile was only for her eyes.

Ragatha’s hand stopped ticking up and instead opted to gently trace each of his paw pads, starting with the biggest one then moving up to his toes then back down.

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHE! IT TICKLES!” Jax was giggling as the sensation was now a bit too soft to provoke his loud boisterous laughter from him.

“My Funny Bunny boy does have very ticklish feet, doesn’t he?” Ragatha’s tone now was softer along with her tickles.

“YEHEHEHEHEHESS HE DOHOHOHOHOES.” Jax agreed with her.

“Cute soft paws, squishy sides and ribs, yep that solves it.” Ragatha released Jax’s feet and she watches as he curled up while still giggling.

“I guess that checks out, you must be the real Jax.” Ragatha sat and watched Jax as he slowly stopped laughing and sat up to face her.

“Well I could have told you that.” He remarked with a playful eye roll.

Ragatha chuckled, “Yeah, sure you could.”

Jac then dramatically flopped back down on her bed, his head landing on one of the pillows near the headboard. “Come now Dollface, join the Funny Bunny Boy. You know you wanna.”

Ragatha fought to hold back her giggle at her boyfriend's silly antics but she was already moving towards him as she said back. “Alright I’m coming Jax.”

“Awww… No sweet nicknames.” Jax pouted.

Ragatha rolled her eyes as she settled on top of Jax and laid her head down on his chest while placing a kiss just under his chin. “Don’t worry Jax, you’ll always be my sweet little bunny.”

Her hands went in different directions as one went to his free hand to rest in while the other went up one of his ears to begin petting and rubbing it.

Jax sighed as he sank deeper into her bed letting himself enjoy the feeling of his ears being pet and the pressure of his Ragdoll over top of him.

Ragatha smiled, her plan had been a massive success, her boyfriend was now happy, relaxed, and his mind had been taken off the other’s hurtful words.

Cause no matter how hard Jax denied it he was still a human who put up a false image of himself, this cruel, mean, unshakable guy, just because that’s how he protected himself from the fear of being forever trapped in a video game and never being able to free. As much as Gangle and Ragatha pretended and wore a mask, Jax did too though his was far better concealed.

“I love you Jaxxy.” Ragatha whispered only to realize that Jax had fallen asleep. With a sigh she pulled her quilt over them both and let rest come to her as she laid in her boyfriend’s arms.

[at0m-b0mb-baby]

The Unspoken Truth

viktor x f!mage!reader

tag-list: @veru-boom @littleblackcatinwonderland @aise-30 @galactic-magick

part 2 of the series

part 1 here

5.5k words

The light in Viktor’s workshop seemed dimmer these days. Even the once-vivid Hextech core on his desk emitted a subdued hum, its glow a faint echo of its usual brilliance. Viktor sat at the edge of his chair, leaning heavily on his cane as his chest rose and fell in labored breaths. His amber eyes flicked to the corner where you once stood, offering him quiet company as he worked. The space felt emptier than ever.

He turned back to his desk, picking up a half-finished schematic for an adaptive prosthetic, a project he had abandoned days ago. His hands trembled as he held the paper, his strength failing him more with each passing hour.

His thoughts were consumed by you, his beloved... Memories of your laughter, the light in your eyes, and the way you challenged his rigid logic with wild, hopeful determination haunted him like a nightmare. You had always been the light to his darkness. But now, even that shine felt distant, like a star he could barely see on a foggy night.

Viktor let out a quiet sigh, his hand falling limp to his side. He wondered bitterly if you would even succeed. His logical mind told him it was impossible. No magic or science could halt the decay in his body. Yet the part of him that loved you, that fragile, human part, dared to hope, even as it hurt him to think of the toll your journey might take on you. Gods, please bring her back home to him...

The question lingered in his thoughts: What good was his brilliance if he could not share it with you?

A sudden knock at the workshop door broke his train of thought.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s voice called from outside. Without waiting for an invitation, the broad-shouldered man pushed the door open. His usual confidence was tempered by concern. He carried two mugs of tea, a small but meaningful gesture that Viktor immediately recognized as an attempt to lift his spirits.

“Jayce…” Viktor greeted, his voice raspier than usual. He set the creation down, knowing full well that Jayce would not let him return to it anytime soon.

Jayce’s imposing frame filled the doorway for a moment before he stepped inside. His eyes, usually bright with determination, now seemed heavy with worry. His presence brought an almost oppressive energy into the room, though his movements were gentle as he set a mug on Viktor’s cluttered desk. “You look terrible, Viktor. When was the last time you got some sleep?”

Viktor offered a humorless chuckle. “What need have I for sleep, when my body is wasting away regardless?” His gaunt features contorted into a faint smirk, but there was no humor behind it.

Jayce frowned, his jaw tightening. He folded his muscular arms over his chest, the slight tension in his stance betraying his frustration. “Don’t talk like that,” he said firmly. “We’ve been through worse together. You’ll figure something out. You always do.”

Viktor turned to meet his friend’s gaze, his amber eyes clouded with exhaustion and despair. The unwavering optimism in Jayce’s expression stirred something in him, a mix of frustration and gratitude. “Do you truly believe that, or is it merely easier to pretend?” His voice carried a sharp edge that had not been there before.

Jayce did not flinch. “I believe it,” he said, leaning forward with an intensity that matched his words. “You’re the smartest person I know, Viktor. And stubborn, too. You’ll push through this, just like you’ve pushed through everything else.”

Viktor shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Stubbornness is no match for entropy, Jayce. My mind remains sharp, but my body…” He gestured to himself, his thin, sickly frame a painful reminder of his condition. “It is no longer mine to control.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Jayce’s eyes lingered on his friend, searching for something to say. Finally, he reached out and clasped Viktor’s shoulder.

“Then let me help,” Jayce said softly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Viktor’s gaze flicked to the hand on his shoulder. “You cannot carry this burden for me” he said, though his voice lacked the conviction it once held.

“Maybe not” Jayce admitted. “But I can carry it with you. You don’t have to drown in this, Viktor. Let me be your support you.”

Viktor swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He looked away, his eyes settling on the Hexcore glowing faintly on the desk. “There is no cure,” he murmured, more to himself than to Jayce. “No anchor will change that.”

Jayce sat back, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders stiffened. “And what about her?” he asked pointedly. “Are you going to give up on her too?”

The words struck Viktor like a blow. His chest ached, not from his illness but from the weight of his love for you. “She is the only reason I remain at all,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But I fear… I fear I may never see her again.”

Jayce studied him for a long moment. “Then fight for her,” he said simply “If can’t do it for yourself, remember what you have. She’s one lucky woman to have you and you’re one hell of a lucky man!”

Viktor closed his eyes, leaning heavily against his cane. “I am tired of fighting, Jayce,” he said quietly. “But I will try… for her.”

Jayce nodded, his expression softening. “Atta boy.”

For a moment, the two sat in silence, the only sound the faint hum of machinery around them. Viktor sipped the tea Jayce had brought, the warmth of it a small comfort in the cold, unyielding grip of his reality.

As Jayce rose to leave, he paused at the door. “You’re not alone, Viktor,” he said. “Remember that, my friend.”

Viktor did not reply, but as the door closed, he let out a shaky breath. His thoughts returned to you, his beloved, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickered in the darkness.

If nothing else, he thought, he would hold on long enough to see you again.

The door clicked shut behind Jayce, leaving Viktor alone once more. The silence of the workshop wrapped around him like a heavy cloak, but his mind was far from still. The tea sat untouched on his desk, the faint steam curling upward dissipating into the cool air. His trembling hands reached for the nearest blueprint as though keeping busy might distract him from the ache in his chest, but the thin paper crumpled slightly under his grip.

His thoughts drifted away, unbidden, to you.

He could see your face as clearly as if you were standing before him. That sweet smile of yours- the one that lit up even the darkest corners of his life. It was a smile that seemed effortless, like sunlight spilling over a quiet morning. It warmed him in ways no machine or invention ever could, a balm to the chill of his ever-weakening body.

Your eyes were what held him most captive, though. They glowed with a quiet fire, as though the magic within you refused to remain dormant. Even in moments when your power was at rest, there was something radiant about them. They shimmered like sunlight dancing on water, and Viktor often found himself lost in their depths, wondering how someone like you could look at him with such tenderness.

He exhaled shakily, leaning forward and resting his forehead against his hand. He missed your laughter too, the sound bubbling up so effortlessly that it filled whatever room you were in. It was infectious, and no matter how bleak his mood, he found himself smiling whenever you laughed. It was a melody he could never forget, one that played endlessly in his memories, offering fleeting moments of solace in the face of his despair.

And your touch. Viktor’s free hand instinctively moved to his own, tracing the phantom sensation of your fingers brushing against his. He missed the way your hands, so warm and full of life, would hold his with such care, as though you were afraid he might break. Your touch was grounding, a tether that kept him from slipping into the abyss of his own thoughts. He longed for it now, more than he could ever put into words.

His lips parted as though he might speak your name, but his voice caught in his throat. He thought instead of your lips, soft and inviting, the memory of their touch against his a bittersweet echo. There was a time when your kisses had made him feel invincible, as though no sickness or weakness could ever take him. Now, he feared he might never feel them again.

The weight of that realization pressed down on him, stealing the air from his lungs. He stood, his cane trembling slightly under the strain of his grip, and crossed the room to where a small table stood against the wall. On it rested a framed photograph of you, Viktor took this while the two of you went on a beautiful nature retreat.

In the photo, you were looking as radiant as ever, you were holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers he decided to pick for you. Viktor couldn’t help but capture the moment. He traced the edge of the frame with his fingers, his chest tightening as the ache of your absence consumed him.

“Moje milá…” he murmured, the word barely audible in the stillness. “Oh how miss you.” he placed a chaste kiss upon the frame where your image appeared.

His vision blurred, and he set the frame down before his shaking hands could drop it. Slowly, he returned to his chair, lowering himself with more effort than he liked to admit. His eyes closed, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine you were there.

He could almost hear your voice, soft and full of conviction, telling him not to give up. He could picture you standing beside him, your hand resting on his arm, your presence a reminder of all the reasons he had to keep going.

But when he opened his eyes, the room was empty.

His heart sank, the void where you should have been feeling more oppressive than ever. He slumped forward, his cane leaning against his chair as he buried his face in his hands. “What good is my mind without you?” he whispered to himself, his voice cracking.

The loneliness was unbearable, but he knew he couldn’t let himself fall completely into despair. For you, his beloved, he would endure. He would wait. He would fight, even if every part of him screamed to give in.

Because you were worth it… You had always been worth it.

★✩���——♡︎❤︎︎

The faint whisper of dawn broke across the horizon as you walked the winding path ahead, the cool air biting at your cheeks and pulling you further into wakefulness. The world around you was eerily still, the occasional rustle of leaves or snap of a twig beneath your boots the only sounds accompanying your journey. Despite the silence, your mind was far from quiet.

The dream from the night before played over and over in your thoughts, vivid and unsettlingly clear.

She had been beautiful, the woman in your dream. Her presence was striking in a way that words could never quite capture. Her hair was the color of midnight, cascading down her shoulders in soft waves that gleamed with an almost otherworldly luster. But it was her eyes that you couldn’t forget. Burning crimson, like molten rubies, they were piercing and unrelenting as they held your gaze. They weren’t cruel or cold, but alive, filled with a strange, knowing warmth that unsettled and comforted you all at once.

Her voice lingered in your memory, rich and sweet like honey laced with something sharper beneath the surface. Every word she spoke carried a weight far greater than their meaning alone.

“You seek to heal what is broken” she had said, her tone smooth and melodic, commanding in a way that left no room for doubt. “There is a place, forgotten by most, where the veil between life and death grows thin. There, you will find what you need. Beware, for all answers come with a price.”

You had tried to ask her more, to question what she meant, but her crimson gaze silenced you. She continued as though she could already see the questions forming in your mind.

“Follow your heart,” she had said. The words lingered in the air like a soft caress. “It will lead you to the path, as it has brought you to me. Do not falter, and do not fear. You have strength greater than you know.”

The memory of her gaze locked onto yours made you shiver now, as though her eyes still watched you from some unseen distance. Even in the waking world, her words pulsed in your chest like a heartbeat, impossible to ignore.

You hadn’t planned this journey. You had no map, no guide. When you set out, you told yourself you were following logic, searching for ancient texts or artifacts that might hold the answers Viktor needed. But now, after that dream, you knew that something else was guiding you.

Your gut churned with a mix of fear and determination. You had no proof that the dream meant anything, but your instincts, wild and unyielding as ever, told you otherwise. The woman’s words rang too clearly, her presence too vivid to be dismissed as mere fantasy.

The path you followed now was uneven and overgrown, twisting deeper into a dense forest where sunlight struggled to break through the thick canopy above. Every step felt purposeful, as though each twist and turn was drawing you closer to something unseen.

You could still feel the weight of her final words pressing against your chest.

“Remember, that not all healing mends what is broken. Some wounds must be carried, and some scars are meant to remain. Choose wisely when the time comes.”

Her voice had been softer then, tinged with an almost maternal kindness, though the weight of her warning was undeniable. It lingered in your mind now, making you question what she had meant.

What kind of price would you be asked to pay? What choices would you have to make?

You shook your head, clearing the doubt from your mind as best you could. Doubt was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not when Viktor’s life hung in the balance. Whatever lay at the end of this road, you would face it. For him, you would face anything.

Even now, the thought of him brought a bittersweet ache to your chest. You could see his face as clearly as if he were walking beside you, his amber eyes filled with warmth and pain in equal measure. The memory of his voice, soft and accented as he murmured your name, spurred you forward when your legs began to tire.

This path was uncertain, perhaps even dangerous, but it was the only one you could take.

As you stepped deeper into the forest, the air around you grew cooler, carrying with it the faintest hint of something unfamiliar. There was a scent you couldn’t quite place, like the sharp tang of ozone mingled with the earthy richness of damp soil. The world seemed to hold its breath, the quiet growing heavier with every step you took.

And so, you walked on, trusting your heart to lead you where you needed to go.

The forest seemed to thicken, the path narrowing until it felt like the trees were closing in around you. The air that had been alive with a strange, guiding energy now felt hollow and still. That feeling… the one that had tugged at your chest, pushing you forward with unshakable certainty was gone.

You stopped abruptly, frozen in place as dread seeped into your limbs. Turning slowly, you scanned the dense woods around you, searching for some sign, some direction. But the forest offered nothing. The path behind you was as indistinct as the one ahead, the faint sound of leaves rustling in the wind doing little to calm the storm brewing in your heart.

Your hand instinctively reached for the locket around your neck. You’d had it since you were a child, but for the longest time, it remained empty, waiting for something or someone worth carrying close to your heart.

It wasn’t until Viktor entered your life that you knew what belonged inside. Now, the locket held a picture of him, meticulously folded to fit within its delicate frame, and a single lock of his soft, golden-brown hair. The locket felt heavier than usual as you clutched it tightly, as though it bore the weight of your love and the fear threatening to crush you.

The silence of the forest became deafening. Without the pull of that guiding feeling, every step forward felt like a risk, every decision uncertain. The overwhelming doubt hit you like a tidal wave, and your legs gave out beneath you.

You sank to your knees on the damp earth, trembling as a flood of emotions spilled over, refusing to be contained any longer.

Viktor’s face filled your mind, so vivid it almost felt like he was standing before you. His amber eyes, sharp and calculating when he worked, would soften whenever they found yours. That softness had always undone you, as though you were glimpsing the fragile heart he so carefully guarded.

You remembered the way his hands felt against yours—cool, steady, and impossibly gentle. He had a precision to his touch, as if he knew exactly how much pressure to apply to avoid breaking something delicate. You’d never felt like anything in his life was as precious to him as you were.

His voice echoed in your thoughts, low and steady, carrying his thick accent that softened every word he spoke. You could almost hear him now, whispering sweet nothings and caressing your heart like it always had.

Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over, sliding down your cheeks as the memories kept coming. His rare, hesitant smile, the one you lived for, flickered in your mind. It was never quick or careless, it took its time, pulling at his lips in a way that made it seem like he wasn’t sure he deserved to be happy. But when he smiled at you, the world felt a little brighter, a little more bearable.

You pressed the locket to your lips, the cool metal grounding you even as your heart ached.

His laugh came next, soft and unassuming, but contagious enough to fill a room with warmth. You remembered the sound vividly, how it could light up even the darkest moments. Now, the memory of it only deepened the hollow ache in your chest.

You missed him. His voice, his touch, the way his amber eyes would glow with determination as he lost himself in his work. You missed the way his presence steadied you, like an anchor in a storm. Most of all, you missed the way he made you feel seen, as though your existence mattered to him more than anything else in the world.

The weight of it all became too much, and a sob wracked your body, shaking you to your core. You buried your face in your hands, the dampness of the earth soaking into your knees as your tears fell freely.

“I’m sorry, Viktor,” you whispered into the stillness, your voice breaking. “I’m trying. I’m trying so hard.”

The locket remained clutched tightly in your fist, a fragile reminder of the man who held your heart.

Your tears fell silently onto the earth, the cool air brushing against your skin as if to remind you that the world around you hadn’t stopped, even though your heart felt like it had shattered. You clutched the locket tighter, Viktor’s image vivid in your mind as the weight of your grief pressed down on you.

But then, you felt it again… a presence.

It wasn’t threatening, but it was powerful, unmistakable, and familiar in a way you couldn’t immediately place. The fine hairs on your arms stood on end, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. A soft rustle behind you made you turn your head slowly, your tears momentarily forgotten.

Standing just a few feet away was a woman, a vision of haunting, almost ethereal beauty. She had long, raven-black hair that cascaded down her back in silky waves, shimmering faintly as though catching the light in ways the forest couldn’t possibly provide.

Her tall, slender frame was draped in a dark, flowing gown that swayed gently with each movement. She was effortlessly graceful, her every step seeming to float across the earth with such ease that it almost seemed like she was hovering. Her lips were full, painted in the faintest shade of crimson, and when she smiled, it was soft yet knowing, as though she was privy to secrets you had yet to understand.

She was beautiful, in a way that felt almost unreal. It wasn’t just her features but the air around her, an aura of calm, quiet power that drew you in, compelling your attention without any effort.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you instinctively took a step back, but before you could react further, she moved toward you.

Her hand reached out, and without hesitation, she placed it gently on your shoulder. The touch was warm, grounding, pulling you from the storm of your thoughts.

“You’ve so come far” she said, her voice rich and sweet, like honey. It wrapped around you, soothing and steady, yet carrying an undeniable weight.

You stared up at her, your mind spinning, trying to process what was happening. She looked familiar, her face hauntingly beautiful in a way you couldn’t fully place. Then it hit you. She was the woman from your dream, the one who had spoken to you, guiding you to this moment.

“It’s you…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Her smile widened ever so slightly, her eyes softening. “Yes, sweetie. It’s me” she replied, her words gentle but certain. “You’ve done well to trust your heart and follow it here, but there is more yet to do.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat felt dry, the words caught in your chest. She looked at you with a knowing calm, as if she could see every question you struggled to voice.

The woman looked down slightly, lowering herself to be closer to your level. Her gaze was steady, her eyes never leaving yours. “I know you carry a heavy burden, but the path ahead is not one you must walk alone. Trust your instincts, and you will find the answers you seek.”

You were silent, captivated by her presence, by the certainty in her voice. Something about her was familiar, as if you had known her for far longer than just a dream. The weight of your grief for Viktor, the uncertainty of everything you’d been searching for, seemed to fade just a little in the warmth of her gaze.

The woman’s gaze never wavered, her ruby eyes seeming to pierce through you with an understanding that felt both comforting and unsettling. A soft smile lingered on her lips as she withdrew her hand from your shoulder, her presence still radiating an almost tangible warmth.

“My name is Magnolia,” she said, her voice carrying a gentle authority, the name flowing from her lips like a melody. “And I have been waiting for you.”

The words struck a chord deep within, stirring something ancient and profound. You blinked, trying to grasp the gravity of the moment, the world around you feeling quieter, as though it were holding its breath. The mention of waiting for you, for someone like you, made your heart skip, but also set your mind racing with questions.

You took a breath, steadying yourself. There was no need to be afraid, not with this woman who felt so familiar, yet so unknown. Your instinct told you to trust her, just as you had trusted the path that led you here. Still, your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, trying to match the calm serenity that seemed to envelop her.

You introduced yourself but the words felt heavier than usual and Magnolia nodded once, a soft approval in her expression, as though she had known all along. “A beautiful name for a soul destined for great things,” she said, her voice warm and steady, grounding you in the quiet confidence of the moment.

The weight of her words settled over you, making your heart flutter slightly in your chest. Her gaze lingered on you, unwavering, as though she could see more than you were ready to reveal.

“You have questions,” she said, her voice dropping into a soft, knowing cadence. “Questions that I will answer, but first, you must understand this: you are not alone in this journey. There are forces greater than what you can see at play, and it is your heart that will guide you to the truth.”

Her eyes softened, watching you with something akin to compassion, as if she understood the turmoil within. You opened your mouth to speak, but she raised her hand in gentle command, quieting you without a word.

“Patience, please.” Magnolia whispered, her tone both soothing and firm. “The answers will come when you are ready.”

The days that followed were a blur of learning and practice. Magnolia took you under her wing, patiently guiding you through the basics of healing magic. She taught you to feel the pulse of life energy that ran through all things, how it flowed through the earth, the plants, and even the air itself. You learned how to connect with that flow, drawing upon it to mend the broken, the injured, and the weary.

It was challenging at first, as you struggled to focus and control the energy that surged within you. But with each passing day, you began to grasp the fundamentals, feeling the energy settle within your hands before channeling it into whatever needed healing. At first, it was small things: a scratch on your hand, a wilting flower. But then, Magnolia guided you to greater feats, showing you how to close deeper wounds, how to ease pain with a touch, how to coax life back into the fragile stems of dying plants.

The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before. Each time you healed, it was as though your own body hummed with the power of the world itself, the magic flowing through you with a strength that left you breathless. It was a strange, heady feeling—this connection to something larger, more ancient than you could comprehend.

Magnolia was impressed by your progress. She watched as you healed a small cut on your arm one afternoon, her gaze thoughtful as she observed the ease with which you manipulated the energy.

“You learn quickly,” she remarked, her tone filled with quiet admiration. “The magic seems to come naturally to you. It is rare to see someone with such raw talent.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of pride at her praise, but it was clear that she had seen something in you that went beyond mere skill. She had always been kind, guiding you with patience, but now, there was a flicker of something more—a deep respect, even awe. She seemed to recognize the potential within you before you did.

As you continued to train, you discovered a new aspect of your magic that seemed to surface on its own. You had always felt a strange connection to plants, as if they whispered to you when you were near them. Now, you realized it was more than just a passing intuition—it was magic. It came from the earth itself, and you could manipulate it in ways that were both powerful and delicate.

One afternoon, as you practiced with a small patch of withered vines, you reached out, your hands hovering just above the brittle stems. Your magic responded almost instinctively, a wave of energy that pulsed through your fingertips and into the ground below. The vines trembled for a moment, then began to stir. Slowly, they lifted, their leaves unfurling, vibrant and green, as though brought back to life.

Magnolia stood a few paces away, her eyes wide as she watched the transformation unfold. There was a flicker of surprise in her gaze before she gave a small nod of approval.

“Remarkable,” she said softly, her voice filled with awe. “You have a gift for plant magic—a connection to nature that I have not seen in good while. Your abilities go beyond just healing. You can command the life force of the earth itself. Remember that.”

You could hardly believe it. The plants had always felt alive to you, but to see them respond to your touch, to feel the energy flowing through them as you healed them, was something altogether different. It was a power unlike any you had ever known, a bond with the earth that was deep and unbreakable.

Magnolia smiled, a proud and knowing smile. “You are more than ready for what lies ahead,” she said. “The journey you are on will demand all of this—your strength, your connection to the world around you. It will not be easy, but you are capable of more than you know.”

Her words filled you with a sense of calm determination. You had come so far in such a short time, and now, it seemed that the path before you was clearer than ever. With Magnolia’s guidance, you were ready to face whatever trials awaited you, knowing that the magic within you was stronger than you had ever realized.

But there was still one thing that weighed heavily on your heart: Viktor. Every moment spent away from him felt like an eternity. Your magic had grown, but you knew that it wasn’t enough yet. You needed to find the cure. You needed to save him.

And with the newfound strength and knowledge you had gained, you would..

[leopardcoffee]

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕤𝕖 𝟙/𝟚

Bang Chan/F!Reader

Part 2 here

synopsis: Chan's never warmed up to you, regardless of how much time you've spent together. It wasn't just reservation, at this point you were sure. No, it had to be you.

Warnings: drinking, sexual undertones

Author's notes: hi! you might know me from my Star Trek works (probably not), but I write k-pop too! I have the finished work on ao3 and the 2nd half should be uploaded here soon. If you have something you want to see, my inbox is always open!

Word count: ~3.1k

Your breath puffed in front of you in the cold winter air, small white clouds against the darkness. A gust of frigid wind blew past, and you tugged your scarf tighter around your neck in indignance. Trudging all the way downtown after a long day of work to go clubbing for Minho’s birthday was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

A dull, chilly ache had settled itself into your bones earlier this afternoon and had been with you since. You’d been shivering at your desk, hunched over your spreadsheets for hours until the clock had mercifully read 5:00 pm. Instead of the comforting monotony of going home to your quiet apartment, you were going to spend the night squashed into a booth, just tipsy enough to be uncomfortable. But you loved Minho, so of course you’d make it to his special day, even if it was just the slightest bit agonizing. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself to have a good time. 

You missed Jisung’s beaming smile and Felix’s warm personality, seeing them might shake that lingering cold out of you. And of course, you’d be doubled over laughing at Changbin and Hyunjin. It’d been a while since you’d seen Jeongin, he must be almost done with his bachelor’s by now, you’d have to ask him about it. And Seungmin had just recently finished reading that book you’d lent him- It’d be so nice for us all to be together again. Oh, and Chan.

Furrowing your brows thinking of Minho’s friend, you tried to keep your mind open. Just because Chan would be there didn’t mean you couldn’t have a good time, even if you were sure he would brush you off like lint on his sweater.

For some reason beyond the scope of your understanding, Chan had just never warmed up to you. When Minho introduced you -his neighbor from childhood- to his friends from grad school, you were terrified. Despite your reservations about intruding on their lives, they had welcomed you with open arms into their little family. Never again did you doubt the validity of your friendships with the boys outside of your relationship with Minho. Chan had been a different story.

You thought maybe he was just quiet around new people, but that proved not to be the case. He was perfectly polite to strangers, acquaintances, all the new girlfriends Jisung seemed to have, everyone. Whenever you stepped out of the room Chan’s entire demeanor shifted, and shifted right back when you returned. Whatever he would be saying would die on his lips and he would retreat out of the conversation almost immediately. He was a moonflower and you were the sun, you closed him up.

When you did have the misfortune of interacting with him, it was charged and short-lived. Whatever you said he automatically disagreed with. If you were all going out as a group, the two of you would argue incessantly until things came to a head in an all-out fight. The hateful things you’d hurl at each other made your mutual friends avoid getting the whole group together at all costs. You recalled a trip you’d all taken out to the country for a day to get away from work and the city.

-

 It started innocently enough, with you and Chan getting stuck in the same car, him driving with you in the passenger’s seat. It’d been a wildly unlucky scenario, but the others had already gotten on the road while you both had work to finish up. The plan had been to just drive yourself, but of course, this was exactly when your roommate had desperately needed the car. In her quest to set you up with Chan, she’d told you she needed to pick her sister up from the airport, which was technically true. After getting in his passenger’s seat you’d wished you’d told her to walk.

Another driver’s careless merge had almost ended in disaster. You’d been sitting in silence driving on the highway for about an hour, a fragile peace over the two of you. Someone had cut Chan off, and reflexively he had thrown his arm across your chest as he hit the brakes to keep you from flying forward. He barely stopped from crashing directly into the car in front of you.

 You were both rattled after the near accident, Chan pulled over and the two of you just sat in silence, processing. You couldn’t remember how long you’d sat there, Chan’s arm resting across your thighs. Tears of relief began pouring down your face. Chan gripped the steering wheel in one hand and took your hand with the other.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Shh, we’re ok. I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” 

His thumb drew circles on the back of your hand for the rest of the drive while he murmured you reassurances. Every so often he would glance at you, such tenderness in his big brown eyes that it made you want to burst. It could’ve been a turning point in your relationship, a gateway to a newfound peace between you, if not for Jisung.

“Channie! Y/Nie! What’s this, huh?” It started the minute Chan had parked the car and opened the door to help you out. Both of you were still rattled, so you gripped his hand back in yours without thinking. Jisung’s taunted relentlessly until Chan snapped.

“Quit it Jisung. We almost got into an accident and she wouldn’t stop bawling. Couldn't drive the rest of the way if she didn't shut up. Keep that bullshit to yourself, we’re still nothing.” You tried not to let more tears fall when he carelessly dropped your hand and pushed his way inside your accommodations. Moments ago he’d been holding your hand so tenderly in his own, now you were left standing there like a fool, 7 pairs of eyes boring into you.

-

You’d tried picking the other’s brains for reasons why Chan might think to treat you so coldly, but they never did anything but sigh and ask to drop it. Even Minho wouldn’t crack, just look at you with heavy eyes. Whenever you asked, a bleak aura overtook your conversant. It wasn’t worth it. There was another instance when you felt as though you had seen beneath his facade. 

-

You’d cornered Chan in Seungmin’s kitchen when everyone had been over for a movie night. It had initially been an accident, you’d only gone to refill Felix’s popcorn bowl when you’d spotted him. His wellbeing wasn’t in the forefront of your mind, but when you’d walked in on him gripping the counter, head down and eyes squeezed shut it’d tugged at your heart. You’d stood still for a moment, assessing what you had been seeing. 

“Are you alright?” 

Had been all you said, deciding to keep it simple. Chan wasn’t the most convivial person you’d ever met, but it wasn’t like him to keep to himself to such an extent. Your heart pounded in your chest when he’d turned his head, those soulful brown eyes that never seemed to be looking at you finally meeting your own. Something flickered in their depths that lit a fire in your heart. It felt as though he’d ravished you with nothing but a glance.

“Yes, just…collecting myself. It’s nothing, please don’t waste your worry on me. Go back to the boys and finish the movie, I'll take care of Felix’s popcorn. Please Y/N, forget this.”  It fell from his lips as casually as the time.

You’d nodded, gasping quietly when his fingers brushed against yours as he took the bowl from your hand. Daring to look up, you saw him already gazing down at you. The ember in his eye from moments ago was now an inferno consuming you. His eyes raked over your body and lingered over your lips. For a moment neither of you moved, fingers barely brushing. 

He’d pulled back so quickly you almost hadn’t realized it. Face on fire, you slunk back to your place at Jeongin’s side and pretended to become absorbed in the movie once again. That had been the longest conversation you’d ever had with him. Barely more than 5 minutes, but it felt as though he’d split you open and seen your heart.

-

Against your will, you felt your face heat up as you recalled the incidents. Those deep brown eyes haunted you, worst of all when it was late at night and you were alone in your bed, with nothing but your desire for him. You were almost there according to your phone, so you pushed the thoughts of Chan from your mind as you walked up to the group of men waiting outside the club.

“Y/N!” Jeongin was the first to greet you, quickly followed by the others as they showered you with welcomes.

“We missed you the other day,” Changbin said as he threw an arm over your shoulder. “You seriously gotta get out more. Come clubbing with us next time! I solemnly swear I will try to get you laid.” He crossed his fingers over his heart in mock solidarity as everyone around him burst into laughter.

“Hey, if all else fails, I’m sure we can arrange something.” He flashed you his million-dollar smile that made all the girls swoon as you keeled over laughing. Any apprehension you’d been harboring before melted away as you leaned into Changbin’s side, so grateful you had a friend like him.

“You better take her out to dinner first if you’re gonna come on her like that.” Came a familiar deep voice from behind you. Feeling two arms wrap around your waist and squeeze, you beamed. Felix had arrived.

“Missed ya,” He said simply, squeezing himself in between you and Changbin. “Where’s Chan?” 

Minho shrugged and Seungmin looked down at his phone, checking for a text. “He should be here any minute now.” 

“I’m here.” 

Stiffening, you tried to keep your cool as Chan’s voice drifted over your head. He walked up behind Jeongin and Hyunjin. His presence was august- powerful and noticeable, even unintentionally. Words flowed from his plush lips like poems, composed for the sole purpose of- 

What were you thinking? You were talking about Chan. Get a grip.

 “Let’s go birthday boy, it’s cold outside.” His symphonic voice reverberated through you, throwing you even further off balance than you were before.

“Hell yeah!” Hyunjin took off like a bullet searching for the ‘perfect place to sit’, a fruitless endeavor for him as he would be spending all night on the dance floor anyway. Jisung and Minho followed dutifully after him and the rest of the boys disappeared to get drinks. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you realize they had split up, leaving you alone with Chan. Swallowing, you stared down at your sensible but pointedly bland work clothes, feeling like a fool for not dressing better. The looming reality of Chan’s presence beside you made you feel meek, and you wilted like a flower in the sun.

“Y/N, Chan!” The saving grace of Minho’s voice wafted over to you. “Why are you two just standing around, come on! It’s my birthday, drink in my honor!” 

He shoved mysterious fruity cocktails into both your hands and whisked you over to the booth Hyunjin had procured. Everyone was talking and laughing, fully relaxed and blissfully unaware of how world-shattering it was when Chan’s arm brushed against your own as the two of you sat down. 

Conversation flowed and you nodded along, doing your best to stay engaged and your mind ran wild. Nimble fingers brushed your waist every so often as Chan shifted to reach across the table for another drink. Each time you felt thunderstruck.

“Alright, the party starts now. Shots!” 

Changbin appeared seemingly out of thin air with more shots than you’d ever seen in one place. The sight of so much liquor was daunting on its own, never mind that you’d have to drink it. What would they think if you got too drunk? Would your makeup still look ok? What if you made a fool of yourself? What would Chan-

“Get out of your head Y/N! We’re letting loose here, none of your worrying. We gotta party like we did in college, do it for Minho!” Changbin slid you a shot. You squirmed in your seat, unable to escape your thoughts. “C’mon Y/N!” A chorus of ‘Yeahs’ and ‘Come ons’ drowned out your inner voice, and before you knew it you’d thrown your head back, downing whatever Changbin had given you. 

Slamming the shot glass on the table, you leaned back in the booth and smiled. Everyone celebrated you taking the first shot by following suit with their own. Glancing around the table at your friends laughing, your eyes landed on Chan. It made you frown when you noticed the number of glasses he’d accumulated this early on in the night. 

But Changbin was right, everyone was. Worrying about Chan had never done you any good. Every time you brought up your insecurities about him, they shut you down. They knew it was eating you up inside, you didn’t deserve to agonize. If all he was ever going to do was ice you out, you wouldn’t waste another moment. Throwing back another shot, you let the warmth of the alcohol tingle through your body. This was nice, maybe you did need to get out more.

“That’s it, I’m dancing. Don’t ask me for anything, I don’t know you.” Hyunjin predictably made his escape from the group first, making a beeline for the first attractive person he saw. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your newfound lack of interest in what Chan thought of you, but you followed after him with Jeongin and Jisung in tow.

You felt a slight prickle of nervousness as you made it to the dance floor, you hadn’t done something like this in a long time. Before you could even begin to think, Jisung grabbed your hand and pulled you up against him. Jeongin joined in, and the three of you danced like lunatics. 

You loved the boys dearly, but not quite in that way, so drunk dancing sandwiched between the two of them had no consequences. They didn���t care, so why should you? It was freeing to feel desired. Basking in the attention, you dragged them closer as the alcohol removed your inhibition. It felt selfish being the center of attention, you laved yourself in it. 

-

Chan scowled down at his crossed hands. He knew he was bringing down the mood with how much he was drinking, but what else was he supposed to do? 

“Chan, man, I think you should call it quits pretty soon.” Seungmin was the first to break the silence. It’d been almost 30 minutes since you’d left, and the tension had only been building since. Felix and Minho nodded, and Changbin put his hand on Chan’s shoulder.

“M’ fine. Don’t worry about me, especially not on your birthday, Minho.” He mumbled, unable to look his friends in the eyes. His heart clenched knowing he was worrying them, the boys he’d grown to love like brothers. 

Ordinarily, he’d listen. No, ordinarily he’d have never let himself get so out of control. But tonight was different, the feelings he’d been trying so hard to keep inside were forcing their way out. It was stupid, how badly he’d been pinned beneath the weight of his feelings and the reality of his predicament. How can you love someone you barely know?

“Dude, clearly something’s up. Spit it out, I’m not doing the run-around tonight.” Distinct finality was embedded in Minho’s statement. No wasn’t an answer he could get away with this time. This was his comeuppance for closing himself off for so long. If the truth wasn’t going to come out on its own, it was going to be forced out. Before he could stop himself, the words he’d spent countless nights agonizing over and carefully planning tumbled out of him in a drunken slur.

“M’ in love with Y/N. ‘Know it’s stupid, she barely knows me. Didn’t mean for it to happen, jus’ did.” 

Nothing happened. The world kept turning. Chan kept breathing. People danced around them and the words just sat there, quiet and raw. His throat felt tight and his sternum ached with the painful reality of what had just happened.

“Sorry. ‘Knew I shouldn’t have said shit. Gotta keep staying away from her, can’t mess anything up for you guys. ‘Jus forget it, I-”

“Chan, you’re kidding.” Felix was the first to regain his composure while the others gawked at him. “Are you so dense that you don’t realize what you’re doing to her? Can you seriously not tell that she cares about you, that she wants to be near you, to know you no matter how much you push her away? I mean, is it really that difficult to imagine that she might-”

Felix’s voice became nothing but a dim buzzing in the back of Chan’s mind as he stumbled out of his seat. Wherever you were, he was going to find you.

-

Heat crashed over you in waves as your partner’s hands ran down the sides of your body. At some point, you’d gotten tangled up with this handsome stranger, and you had no desire to part from him. Jeongin and Jisung each paired off with a different woman, just as lost in their respective moments as you were. Minho and Changbin were drunkenly dancing, not a care in the world apparent to either of them. Hyunjin seemed to be having the best night of all, he was nowhere to be found.

The music peaked and you pressed your back against your partner’s chest, sighing out as his lips met your neck. You think his name was Jay, but you’d forgotten it the minute his hands had come to rest on your hips. Whoever he was, he’d managed something no one had been able to since you’d met Chan, he’d made you feel bold. You twirled around in his arms as he spun you to face him, your lips inches apart. Fingers threaded themselves between the curls at the nape of your neck. You were so close to kissing him that it made your body vibrate. Just one more inch.

“Get off my girl.” You stiffened in his arms, sobering up like you’d been splashed. That couldn’t be his voice, yet it was unmistakable who’s hand was curling around your waist.

“Your girl?” Jay said, clearly reluctant to release you.

“Yeah, my girl.” He tugged you forward into his chest, and Jay quietly slipped away into the throng. Whatever appeal he had provided for you vanished into nothingness as Chan’s hand came up to hold the back of your head, the other wrapping around your waist. His eyes bore into yours, swimming with something you couldn’t place. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes flick downwards.

Chan stared at your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red like a Roman beauty. You stared back at him, his large arms still locked tightly around you. Neither of you made any indication of releasing the other. The people dancing and the sounds of the music faded into the background as you stood in his arms. It felt as though his gravity had finally sucked you in, with the way he was looking at you, you knew there was no escaping your feelings for him now. 

My girl, my girl, my girl.

[romanreignseater]

This Is Cinema.

Jey Uso x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; consensual pornography & rough times 🤫.

“You know what they say about the Bloodline, them boys make CINEMA!!”

A/N: That Jimmy fic is on hold until further notice 😤 (that boy made me so mad). I do have another Jey fic, but this was TOOO good for me to not upload first!! Hope you enjoy 💋!!”

GIF: @jeygif

Another day of work, another asshole to deal with.

Or so you thought.

Working as “pornstar��, but your preferred term of “adult film star”, was something you didn’t see yourself doing when you were a teen. The idea of getting nude in front of a camera with loads of crew surrounding as you do something that seems so sacred was weird to you back then. But, once college didn’t work out, you had other plans.

One of your homegirls who started off doing porn and soon ventured into the world of OnlyFans gave you the idea to start. And honestly… it was one of the best decisions you’ve made!!

You were soon living lavishly in Tampa, Florida, with $6 million to your name, the most gorgeous mansion, a brand new bright pink Range Rover, the cutest teacup poodle named Rex, food in your fridge, and bills paid. All in under a year.

Regardless of what people may say about you on the internet… sweetheart they were paying your bills.

You were working with some of the best in the industry and millions of views on those videos. Your career seemed to be at its pinnacle, but your manager informed you that there was a group of men starting off in the industry and absolutely taking over. In a little over five months, they were rated the top pornstars in the world.

Hundreds of millions of views on each of their videos and numerous women wanting to start a career just to be able to be near them. Working with them would not only boost your career even further, but to get a chance to fuck a handsome ass Samoan, yes please. In the words of your manager, “We gotta get that dick.”

An interesting choice of words, but you trusted every piece of advice she gave you. Soon, you were on a flight to the ATL to meet up with one of the members of the infamous group.

Doing your research the night prior to your flight, there were three brothers and a cousin. Roman, the cousin, was the oldest and definitely the biggest. A set of twins, Jimmy and Jey, and their younger brother, Solo, who didn’t look so little.

Roman was the one who wasn’t the most booked, as he only worked with the best of the best. Viewers only seeing his work every once in a while. But, when he dropped a video you knew it was gonna be heat. The absolute passion in his strokes and darkness in his eyes made you bite your lip at his raw manly magnitude.

Jimmy was fairly booked, with his whole month practically full. Most of his content involved acting with a lot of backstory. Really diving deep into massive rounds of role play and foreplay. That boy didn’t play games once that time came around though.

Next was Solo. He was working with a lot of underground stars and still reaching the levels of the ones older than him. Yet, he picked up those levels quick. Reaching the heights of his family and making women reach their climax at the same time.

But, the one who really caught your eyes was Jey. He was the definition of your ideal man. His warm-looking tan skin, his beautiful curly mullet, sexy ass style, big meaty thighs and muscles, and those grills. The way he fucked made you shrivel in your panties. He was a beast with a lot of mouth, just the way you liked it. His style consisted more of an interview at the beginning with a little foreplay and then straight to business. Asking girls about what turns them on the most and what he’s gonna do to them. Making each and every woman who set foot near him blush heavily.

And let’s not get started about that dick.

Definitely a 9-incher, big and heavy looking balls that laid nicely underneath his cock. A luscious pink mushroom tip, with meaty veins that trailed down to his trimmed hair. Now, it’s getting really hot and the thoughts of what he could do to you couldn’t stop dancing around your head.

After some more internet stalking, the time flew by and your flight approached.

Knowing that he stayed in ATL made you absolutely happy. Your manager wouldn’t let you know who exactly you’d be working with, but as soon as you saw your ticket, you knew you were in for a treat and rude awakening.

Dressing your absolute best in a grey Skims shirt and matching miniskirt, that barely covered your ass… perfect.

Wig secured down by some industrial glue and an opt out for the lashes, knowing they’d come off. But, mascara is a must.

On your way there, you couldn’t contain the excitement you felt. Watching some of his work that night before and earlier that day, you knew what he liked, how he acted, and how he wanted it. All the little things that made him tick and shiver.

You were seriously on demon time.

Even though, you felt as though you were throughly experienced and quite the pro. The flashing lights and big cameras still made you very nervous. In the beginning, your parents weren’t very supportive, but once they saw you had a roof over your head and food to eat, that’s all that mattered to them. But, sometimes the days didn’t get any easier. Luckily, your manager was a real one and knew how to calm you down.

After meeting all members of the crew, and the camera and director you and Jey would be working closely with today, you got touched up as you awaited Jey’s arrival.

“Nervous?!” The makeup artist asked you. Laughing slightly, you nonchalantly ignored your jitters and told her you were fine. All that anxious behavior would only arise and the man of the hour arrived.

He looked absolutely scrumptious in a pair of white joggers and a white Nike Tech with no shirt on underneath. His Cuban link chains shining in the sunlight and his cross earring dangling from his one ear.

Your cunt just throbbed at the sight of him. “Hello Ms. Y/N?! Is anyone in there?!” Completely zoned out and you didn’t even realize it, Jey waved his big hand in your face to catch your attention. His dimple prominent as he was quite amused by your expression.

“Hey Jey nice to meet you. Sorry… I just zoned out for a second.” Reaching out to shake his hand, he kindly refused. “It’s no problem, but I don’t shake hands I’m more of a hugger.” Flustered by his comment you arose from your chair and were soon enveloped into his burly arms.

His arms were thick and wrapped around your waist securely, his warm chest pressed against yours, as you felt your nipples harden. The feeling of his semi-hard dick rest against your thigh made you bit your lip and hold your arms around his neck tighter. “You out here showing out, I see you and your little miniskirt.” Spinning you around at 180 degrees, he stopped when your back faced his front.

Obviously entertained by his comments, you decided to show out a little more. Bending over slightly and giving him a little shake, Jey took the opportunity to give your ass an ample smack. “Uh oh, we got a lotta chemistry over here, don’t we?!” The producer of our film walked over to us as we were sharing a moment.

Both of us blushed at the producers comments. Damn right we have chemistry, but we really are gonna see once those cameras turn on. “But, we need more of that on the screen, so let’s get filming.” Turning back around to you, Jey gave you a wet kiss on the cheek and winked at you as he headed to the living room.

He is something else.

————————————————————————

“In 5, 4, 3, 2… 1.”

“Alright, well look at who we have here. We got the Queen of Screams, Y/N in the building. And the Leader Beater, Jey.” Both of us have a wave and proper introduction to the camera as we laughed at the names the producer gave us.

“I just gotta say you guys just sitting next to each other is already a movie.”

“Maybe I need to move a little more closer to him then.” Snuggling up by his side as gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Jey’s arm was placed on the back of the couch with his legs fully spread, giving a beautiful of his already hard dick. You crossed you legs to staf off that feeling of what he would do to you tonight.

“You already know what it is Uce. I got one of the baddest in the game next to me and I’ve been waiting to get my hands on that ass.”

“Ooooo, Jey got all the smoke about you Y/N. You know that ass is viral!!”

Rolling you eyes slightly, you casually smirked as you began to open your mouth. “I got all the smoke behind him too. I’ve been waiting to dig into him for a while.” Your hand left your right thigh as you palmed him through his white sweats, feeling all of his girth.

“Okayyy, Jey how we feeling about that?!!”

“I’m feeling real good about that Uce. Like the feeling is only rising from here.” Removing your hand from his length, you put your head down as you laughed at his comment.

“She bout to be a REALLLL problem Uce!!” Jey’s hand traveled from the back of the couch to your ass as he palmed and massaged it. Returning the favor, you returned your hand back onto his dick.

“Tim, you need to speed this up a little don’t you think?!” Biting your lip and looking Jey dead in his chocolate brown eyes.

“She’s on demon time Jey.”

Jey simply nodded his head at the camera with a smile on his face as you threw your head back in laughter. “But, you gotta show me a little something bae.”

“What you wanna see?!”

Jey intently stared at your chest, barely taking his eyes off of them. “I think he wants to see my tits.” You giggled as you sensually removed your top, letting your breasts out on full display. Jey took a sharp intake of his breath as he admired your ample assets. You played with them first as you stuck your tongue out of your mouth, letting your saliva drip down onto them.

“Why yo ass so scared Jey?!” He quickly snapped out of your trance and gave you a questioning look. “I ain’t ever scared.”

“Prove it.”

Jey dove straight into the middle of your breasts, motorboating himself. You giggled as you took the back of his head into your hands. Things took a sharp turn when he massaged both of your sensitive breasts in his hands and began sucking on each nipples. Covering them in the upmost amount of saliva.

Bringing himself back into an upright position, he sat back and played with your tits. In awe of the dangly Hello Kitty nipple piercing you had on your right tit. “That fuckin’ piercing go crazy Uce, get a closeup on that.” As the cameraman went in to get a closeup, Jey shook your tits from side to side giving himself and the viewers a show.

“He’s having a lot of fun.” Jey gave the camera another sly look as he continued to play with your breasts. “But, I know he’s gonna have more fun with this.” Removing his hands from you, your chest now faces the back of the couch and your knees now pressed up against the seat cushion. You could hear a whistle coming from Jey’s mouth as you gently shook your ass, letting your miniskirt rise showcasing your lovely pink thong.

“This what I’m taking about baby.” Jey bit his lip as his head neared your ass, giving it a wonderful spank, kiss, and caress. “I’m done with this. I’m ready to get in the field.”

“Wow Y/N, I don’t think we’ve ever seen Jey skip over the interview so fast. We got only about four minutes of footage.”

“Four minutes is enough, come baby.” You yelped as Jey took you into his arms and walked to the bed placed off camera.

“I guess I just got the magic touch.”

“Damn right she do. Take that shit off for me mama.”

Tossing you onto the plush bed, you followed his orders and removed your skirt and panties. Your cunt on full display: wet, warm, pink, and soft. You began to play with your pearl as you stared into Jey’s now dark eyes. He slowly started to undo the ties in his sweats. “Keep playing with it baby, I need that pussy real wet when I fuck it.”

Him telling you to continue masturbating in front of him already drove you over the edge, but wanting you real wet when he fucked you, sent you to the moon.

“Unhhh… my pussy’s so wet for you daddy.” Jey was now in his PSD boxers, playing with his clothed cock at the same pace as you. You both stared sensually into each others eyes as Jey finally became nude. Your eyes couldn’t help but to trail down to his massive length, taking in all its magnificent glory.

“Yo ass looking at it real bad, come give it a taste.” Swiftly, you positioned yourself ass up face down as you took his dick into your small hands. Licking at his swollen head, you captured his bead of pre-cum. Closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

Jey’s head leaned back as you enveloped his entire cock into your mouth, all the way to the base. “Fuckkk, that throat ain’t no joke for real.” Not only were you known for your ass, the way you seemed to swallow a dick up so easily was also a topic of discussion.

You sloppily cover his entire length in your saliva, balls and all. You barely even gagged as he reached the back of your throat. Jey’s head lolled back as he revel in the feeling of your throat swallowing him whole like it was nothing. Bobbing your head up and down, twirling circles around his dick, and playing with his balls. “I-I-I-I c-an’t.”

Jey immediately pushed you away as he shivered at the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving, that he had to stop you. “We can’t be going too crazy so fast now. Stay bent over like that baby.” Arching your back even further, Jey assumed the position behind you.

Massaging your ass oh so heavenly. “That ass is something dangerous mama.” Blushing, you began to shake your ass back reaching to feel his dick. He just stood still as he admired your lewd attempts to fuck yourself against him.

Your pussy finally found his cock and you moaned as you gently pushed it into yourself. “Oooo Daddy, that feels so good already.” Jey grabbed your hips in order to get himself inside of you faster. “That pussy so tighttt.”

You bit your lip and looked into the camera as Jey bottomed out into you and began fucking you slowly. “Hey Jey, I swear you got more than that. Give the girl what she wants.”

Jey paused as you looked back at him. “Many girls can’t handle this and then they tap out.”

“I don’t tap out sweetheart. Do your worst.”

Jey pushed your head down into the mattress, as well as pushing your back down slightly more. He spread your legs further and held your juicy hips. He whispered to the camera, “She ain’t ready.”

Jey soon began to absolutely berating your cunt into oblivion. Your nails almost broke as you clawed at the sheets so roughly. Your ass bounced off of his taut abs as if a basketball was being dribbled on a court.

Your screams muffled into the mat as he didn’t cease his ministrations. His hand stayed trained on the back of your head as your nails scratched up his forearm.

“I told you yo’ ass ain’t ready. Tell the world your ass wasn’t ready!!” He pulled your head up as your face was covered in mascara stained tears and forced you to stare into the camera. The cameraman moved to get a closeup. “Tell the world yo’ ass can’t take it.”

Eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head and a big smile on your face, you proudly spoke. “I ca—n take i-i-it wo-rld.” A moan in each break of your sentence as you took Jey’s dick like a champ.

“She lasted longer than the rest, I ain’t gonna lie.” Your head fell back into the sheets as pulled both of your arms to your lower back. You soon began squirting and screaming like a mad woman, nearly as if someone was murdering you.

Well… you were definitely getting murdered in a different way.

“Fuckkkk, baby I’m about to cum. Keep squeezing me just like that.”

Your cunt never stopped clenching as Jey’s cum soon entered your quaking pussy. Jey beat seven hard strokes into your cunt, ensuring that he got every single drop into you.

You shivered as he left the warmth of pussy. You lied back against the bed and but your lip as Jey gave you a sloppy wet kiss.

“How was that guys?!”

“That was cinema.” We said in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END.

I actually think this is my longest fic to date. Why are all my Jey fics so long?!?! I wanna do a Roman fic give some ideas for Big Uce 💝💝🤪!!!

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust @angelreigns444

[changetyre]

Oscar x reader best friends to lovers smut? So happy to hear your friend improved. 💕💕

Ily II Oscar Piastri x Reader ⓈⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Of course, you've always loved your best friend, it's just never been exactly clear how much. WARNINGS: **18+** not proofread

A/N: So the part of the story in small letters is actually a part I already had uploaded on Wattpad cause someone had requested something similar over there. The part in regular letters is the smut part for y'all horny people. ;) enjoy xx

"OSCAR PUT ME DOWN!" You yelled between laughter as Oscar walked with you slumped over his shoulder. 

"Not yet!!" he chanted. 

You covered your face in embarrassment as you could see multiple cameras around you taking pictures of the scene. 

"OSCAR PEOPLE ARE LOOKING!" You smacked his ass making him laugh. 

"Hmm they know us already it's fine." He shrugged. 

This had all started when you'd refused to get into the paddock this morning after forgetting your phone back at the hotel. Oscar had come to rush you this morning making you run through your room as you got dressed and ready before Oscar was rushing you out for absolutely no reason since you'd gotten to the paddock early regardless.

You still didn't know how you fell for his pranks after being best friends for so long. After arriving at the paddock you went to take out your pass from your purse only to realize your phone wasn't in there and you refused to go in without it telling Oscar you'd go back to get it and meet with him later but he didn't like the idea of it. 

He insisted you didn't need it since he was with you for most of the day anyways so you'd be fine, your family had his phone number and he let you use his phone whenever anyway so it wasn't a necessity but you were petty, and stubborn so you still refuse which resulted in Oscar picking you up and carrying you inside. 

"Oop and we're here." Oscar bounced you off his shoulder making you let out a small scream as he finally placed you down at the entrance of the McLaren hospitality. 

"I hate you." You huffed seeing his sly smile. 

"Nah you love me," Oscar replied not noticing the way your breath hitched at the comment. 

It had always been a secret you'd kept, the fact that you had always had a crush on Oscar and it got easier, you lived to learn with the little ache you felt when Oscar would speak about the fact that what you head was a FRIENDship, or the way he would get close to other girls looking them at ways you secretly wished he looked at you. But lately, it just seemed to get a little harder, hiding it had never been so hard and every time you'd tell him you loved him as you'd always done it was just different, you couldn't say it without really meaning it anymore. 

You simply cleared your throat trying to ease the ache. 

"You alright?" Oscar furrowed his brows noticing your change in attitude, the way your smile slightly dropped. 

"Yeah, just got a little lightheaded that's all." You lied hoping he wouldn't question you further. 

"Oh sorry about that." Oscar placed a hand around your waist not knowing this didn't help you as you walked into the hospitality. 

You hated the way his touch now was almost just painful knowing it would never mean what you wanted. Moving out of his grasp you walked ahead of him. 

Oscar noticed though, he noticed the way you moved as if his touch burned you, the way you weren't as affectionate anymore, the way you were barely able to look him in the eye and it scared him. It scared him half to death not knowing what was going on and feeling as if he was losing his best friend with each passing second. 

Walking into his driver's room you sat at your usual corner looking down and avoiding his eyes, it was obvious something was in your thoughts. 

Oscar shut the door behind him and was ready to confront you about it. "y/n what is going on with you?" Oscar asked. 

His tone was serious, it was something you'd never really heard with him your conversations always being fun and light. 

"Nothing, I'm just tired." You quickly lied. You'd gotten good with quick little lies recently trying to get yourself and your feelings unnoticed.

"It's not nothing, stop lying and tell me what's wrong." Oscar insisted, his tone partly angry this time. 

"Oscar I'm telling the truth, can you just let it go." You replied frustrated as well. 

"No, I can't. I love you y/n and I'm not-" 

"Don't say that." You quickly interrupted him. 

"Why it's the truth, I do love you and-" 

"Oscar stop it!" You raised your voice. 

"I LOVE YOU Y/N!" 

"STOP!" You shouted getting up and walking towards him. "YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING GET IT BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP SAYING THAT! YOU HAVE TO STOP BECAUSE...BECAUSE...AGHHHH" You punched the wall overwhelmed with frustration. "Fuck." You hissed in pain as you'd hurt yourself badly by doing so. 

"sh*t are you okay." Oscar approached you trying to take your hand but you moved away. 

"Stop! Why do you do that?!" Oscar argued this time.

"I'm fine." You lied again as you noticed the bruising that had already started to form on your knuckles, your hand shaking in pain. 

"Why the fuck are you lying to me?" Oscar was almost on the verge of tears, he hated what was happening, how you wouldn't trust him anymore. "Don't you think I've noticed the way you've changed? The way you're distancing yourself from me? The way you won't even let me touch you anymore? I love you and I'm scared to lose you." Oscar's voice was shaky. 

"You can't say that." You turned around to face him again and Oscar noticed the tears stream down your cheeks. "I-" You struggled to explain. "You can't say that because it hurts me...it'll never mean what I want it to because I actually love you." You confessed, your body almost relaxing with the weight of defeat knowing this would finally change everything. 

"Well I do too." Oscar replied.

"No I mean-" You were about to argue again but Oscar stepped forward actually taking your injured hand in his this time. 

"I do too." Oscar said again as you looked up at him. "I actually truly and really love you...and that's why I'm so scared that you're slipping away from me." Oscar's voice was barely above a whisper but thanks to your closeness you could hear it perfectly. 

"Oscar I don't think-" You were still stubborn. 

"I am in love with you y/n," Oscar repeated clearly this time. "Do you get it? I love you, more than just my friend, I love you so fucking much it physically hurts because I can't love you the way I want to." 

You were speechless, you thought your mind must've been playing tricks on you because how could it be that Oscar was saying exactly what you'd wanted to hear from him for so long?

"Really?" Oscar still couldn't help but smile at how cute you sounded in disbelief. 

"Would I ever lie to you?" Oscar asked. 

"Well...yeah." You were honest laughing yourself at the fact that you and Oscar had never been this serious in your whole lives. 

"Uh true my bad, but I mean it 100%." Oscar laughed too. 

"But...how-" You still couldn't quite comprehend. 

"For fucks sake." Oscar grabbed you by the waist and pulled you towards him before kissing you. You were completely dazed, this all just felt like a dream as you responded kissing him back, the kiss more passionate than you had ever dreamed it would be. 

It both felt like it lasted seconds and an eternity before you both separated catching your breaths. You were silent for a bit as Oscar kept his face close to yours but due to his height your forehead just reached his lips. 

"Do you believe me now?" you felt Oscar's breath on your hairline as he asked. 

You laughed looking up at him. "I think so." You replied smiling up at him. 

"You think so?" He asked looking down at you...the way you had always wished he would. 

"Well yeah...I think I'm gonna need a little more convincing." You joked.

"Fine by me." Oscar leaned back down joining his lips with yours. You got lost in the kiss forgetting everything but were rudely brought back to reality by Oscar linking his fingers with yours making you yelp in pain when his fingers grazed your knuckles. 

"Sh*t sorry, way to ruin the moment." You pouted. 

Oscar pecked your pout away. "You didn't ruin anything...let's go get this checked out." He lightly kissed the top of your hand being careful not to hurt you. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the action. What was this man doing to you? 

"Okay but before we go can you kiss me again?" You shyly asked. You simply didn't want the moment to stop, the heat built up from the moment feeling unbearable all of a sudden.

Oscar laughed but gladly accepted leaning back towards you to kiss you again. This time you placed your injured hand behind Oscar's neck making sure it was out of the way.

Oscar pulled you closer by your waist deepening the kiss and daring to start using his tongue loving the way he was finally tasting you the way he'd always wanted.

You on the other hand were in a complete daze, breathing had never been so hard but it was a pleasant experience, growing more and more breathless with every movement Oscar made both with his mouth and hands.

You'd never truly understood what people meant by the phrase of your head being in the clouds until now, you literally felt like you were floating and Oscar was both the cause and the only thing keeping you grounded.

You could feel his hands slowly drift lower before they eventually cupped your ass causing you to moan into his mouth a feeling he could get drunk off.

His hands moved a little further lower where your thigh met your cheeks and as he pressed upwards you understood what he wanted. Jumping slightly Oscar carried you in his arms to the uncomfortable couch always present in his driver's room.

He placed you on your back before standing up for a few seconds his eyes scanning your body making you feel naked all of a sudden.

"Can I take these off?" Oscar asked you as he slipped his fingers through the hem of your jeans.

You nodded biting your lip at the anticipation of what was about to happen.

Oscar wasted no time in unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down leaving you in your panties, he didn't waste a second as he started running his finger over your clothed pussy making you gasp in pleasure.

"Does that feel good baby?" Oscar whispered kissing your cheeks softly.

"Mhm." was the only noise you were able to produce the high you were in making it impossible for you to physically formulate any words.

"I need you to be quiet f'me okay?" Oscar whispered again as he hooked his fingers in your panties moving them to the side before sliding his fingers through your bare pussy collecting your juices before pushing two fingers in slowly.

You tried your hardest to contain the moan that erupted in you, using Oscar as your silencer as you arched your top half off the couch capturing his lips in yours once more.

Oscar was happy to help as he continued kissing you without stopping his movement to your lower half, his fingers moving in and out of you at a quicker pace as his thumb circled your clit at a torturous pace.

"Agh Osc- I'm gonna-" Part of you was embarrassed with how quickly you were reaching your high but the pleasure was enough to distract you from the worry.

"Cum for me baby." Oscar encouraged you as he slipped his other thumb in your mouth, your mouth instinctively closing around it as Oscar's fingers moved faster inside you.

"mhm...hmmm..." You moaned loudly as your body shook with pleasure at the orgasm Oscar had just given you, as he continued fingering you through it.

"Good girl." He whispered kissing your cheeks slowly getting closer and closer to your lips before placing one last long and deep kiss on them.

You tried to regain your breath, Oscar making it difficult when he finally pulled his fingers out of you and used his mouth to clean them off.

"OSCAR WE NEED YOU!" You jumped hiding yourself in the process as there was a loud knock and voice from outside the door.

"This isn't over yet darling, please go get that checked out" Oscar pointed to your hand, smirking as he helped you pull your jeans back up placing a kiss close to your core over your jeans before winking and walking out the room leaving you completely speechless.

________ A/N:

I'm a little behind on requests so bare with me please, I see them all and I am getting through them from oldest to newest ;)

[eekitseve]

Chapter one of my charpim fanfic below the cut :) just in time for Christmas in July! will upload to ao3 in a few days once I get my account

Charlie was definitely more of a New Year’s guy.

The “new year, new me” leaves a length of time between Christmas and the beginning of the following year to act out, to be someone else, and to do stupid shit. It’s right between needing to be good for Santa and having the slate cleaned for the new year.

New Year’s Eve was a blast for Charlie (almost) every time. Charlie, for one thing, knew how to have a good time. He knew enough people who hosted annual parties. He knew enough people who knew how to get into the big ones, the exclusive ones, the absolutely nuts ones. He never had to worry about New Year’s Eve plans— it was a reliable holiday where he could lose his shit and be forgiven the next morning by the world. Alongside Saint Patty’s day, he could get black out drunk and not be seen as a loser for a day. He could be a blunt, wreckless version of himself that night and have no repercussions from it save for a monumental hangover the following day.

Of course, none of this logic was true. You get false confidence to send a few stupid texts, fight a few people, maybe kiss a stranger or two-- but once the night’s over, you’re the same person who did all those things. It was you the whole time, and it never changed. You might say you’ll be better the next day (or next year), but it being a new year doesn’t change you. Once that year long timer comes back to the last few hours, you do it all again.

Pim was more favorable of Christmas.

Instead of living in the moment, he thought of his future. He reminisced on his past to what might be an unhealthy amount. He was a Romantic; he felt nostalgic for a time he remembers differently than how it happened, and he daydreams for a life he will likely only partially succeed in achieving. His goals are always slightly askew; trying to relive a past that didn’t actually happen a certain way, or trying to work towards something that he’s only seen in several tacky romance movies.

That might be why he likes Christmas so much; every Christmas was recorded on awful home video VHS’s, and sure, there would be arguing, but he’d be right there on camera, smiling and enjoying Christmas like he should. He would watch them sometimes when he came home. Who cared if his dad was cursing out his mom in the back of the video? He’d just skip those parts and reminisce on how cool he thought the nerf gun set he got that year was. He’d skip past the part where he shot his older brother in the eye and they started brawling on the floor. He’d skip past the parts on the tape where it was him in highschool, despondent, confused, and scared with the added touch of his new baby sister screaming the whole tape. He would usually go until he hit the Christmas before he moved out. He always stopped the fast forward when he recognized the scene-- blue tinsel on the tree, their old house in Adelaide, Australia, and probably the last time he was as close with his family as he was. For a while after that, the tapes weren’t as charming. First off, he wouldn’t be there until a few years later when his family moved to the US. Not to mention, he could remember the rest of them vaguely.

Maybe Pim and Charlie’s preferred holidays showed some deep facet of their personalities, maybe not.

Regardless of what holiday they liked better for whatever unspoken reason, both critters were excited to leave the office once their clocks struck 5. They didn’t have a timeclock, no, but Mr. Boss remained on company grounds until the shift officially ended; he was dedicated, and he ensured his workers were, too. This meant skipping out early was unlikely. Very unlikely.

Especially on the last shift right before their holiday vacation started.

Of course, the concept of holiday vacation was something new. Since a certain OSHA non-compliant fatal workplace incident two years ago, Mister Boss began rolling the ball on mandatory holiday PTO. He made an effort to prioritize the health of his workers over a few smiles made during the holidays. Charlie wasn’t gonna deny free PTO, but he did question the logistics of having no one working during the roughest time of the year. He was reassured that they as workers were to be prioritized; if the people making others smile are dead, then how can people smile? It seemed like kind of a half-baked response for the trouble he’d have had to go through to support such a decision, but again, Charlie didn’t want to argue against free PTO.

Allan, Glep, Pim and Charlie all are relaxing in the breakroom now. The hum of the lights are louder and it seems like even the heater is ready for a vacation as it runs colder than it has the past month. Charlie and Pim only had two clients today; one old man who wanted to visit the moon before he died (he was on his deathbed and they staged a quirky performance dressed as aliens to convince him he was there, which only worked because he was high out of his mind on various medications-- he died immediately afterwards), and a super rich guy that needed help picking out a gift for his family that would make them smile and, by association, him too. They went through a classic montage styled time of trying out different gifts, but ultimately giving them each 3.8 million dollars in cheque worked. He gave Charlie and Pim each a lonesome penny to fund their Christmas’s. Pim was endeared. Charlie was not.

They got back with an hour to spare and have hung out since.

Allan squeaks the break room sink faucet on and off a few times. He grumbles.

“The hot wat-err is off againn.” He begins futilely washing his used coffee mug with cold water and a firm sponge.

“Awww, what?! I thought we just got that fixed!” Pim whines.

Glep tunes in and adds context— “aekajjsxhcah ptotuckcakc jvvjwalc cakscjs wjejrw cjcjde totij fusj xockd fjfjs.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Pim responds, surrendering his frustration.

“Yea-hh. I guess Mister Boss is already on it.” Allan replies and continues washing the dish; Pim watches inattentively.

Glep is on his iPad doing important work. “Scouting for frowning faces online” was his excuse on his last self evaluation once it was brought up a third time by Allan.

Charlie was on his computer playing Rust.

Pim sat there, waiting.

Pim was extra excited for the holidays this year. He rarely got to spend time with his family. He felt very lucky that he could spend upwards of a week with them now, even if it was at the expense of Charlie’s life (sort of).

Pim looks over at Charlie. He seems very in his element; he’s a self proclaimed pro-gamer, why wouldn’t he be? Pim wonders if he’s gonna play Rust for the entirety of their break. Charlie mutters a quiet “shit,” and spams his mouse. It’s not enough, apparently, and he groans, releasing himself from the clutches of the computer and leaning back in the chair. Pim looks away.

It’s about seven minutes now until they’re free.

The door opens and Mr. Boss walks in. He sees Charlie gaming and watches for a second silently, only saying “oh, nice” when he gets a good item. Mr. Boss looks up at everyone. “Before you guys go, I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya.”

Mr. Boss pulls out a manilla folder and slaps it down on the breakroom table.

“What is that?” Charlie asks cautiously.

“Oh, just some homework for your vacation!”

They collectively groan.

“Don’t worry, guys!” Mr. Boss pulls thin packets out of the folder and passes them out. “I just want to make sure we get in the holiday spirit! I want everyone to make one person smile before the year ends, heehee!”

Charlie looks at the packet and thumbs through the pages.

“This is like, 7 pages dude. Double sided. This is more than we do for regular clients.”

“Yeeerrrp. It’s actually a paper version of our remote position client completion form.”

“There’s a remote position?” Allan asks— the dish is no longer important.

“Oh, yeah, sillies! We have 372 smiling friends workers working remote around the clock to make people smile! They get to work from wherever they want, choose their own hours, and they even make more than you guys do!”

There’s a moment of silence before everyone seemingly opens their mouth to speak. Mr. Boss is quicker, though.

“Aaaaanyway, I hope you guys have a good vacation! And make sure to fill out the entire packet! Remember, you only have to make one person smile, but you do have to fill out the registration form on the back of page 4 and the release form on page 3 and also the customer satisfaction form on the back for them confirming that they smiled. It’s really not that much!”

Mr. Boss was in the doorway about to leave.

“Wait wait wait wait, Mr. Boss,” Charlie is desperate, “about the remote position--”

“Byeeee guys! Merry Christmas!”

He closes the door.

“And happy new year!” He yells to them, muffled through the door.

Charlie groans and melts into his chair a little.

“I never knew there was a remote position,” Allan confesses.

“Me neither,” Pim mutters a little despondent.

“I… how much more do you think they make?” Allan asks, setting his dish down to dry.

“I dunno. I mean… probably… a good bit more.” Pim answers.

“Well,” Charlie closes his laptop and stands up, “I’m heading out. We have nothing else going on and I haven’t eaten anything all day. Anyone want to go to Spaghetti Disco?”

“That’s fancy,” Pim comments as he scratches at some crud on the table with his finger.

Charlie starts packing his laptop away in its case. “I’m just craving spaghetti, man. Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess. What about you, Allan and Glep?”

“I guess, sure-uh.”

“jwkewjekjwefsdjkfskdhe.”

“Oh, that’s right, Glep, we were going to go on that movie double date. How could I forget-uh?”

“Oh! What movie?”

“Bimblar Seven. Kickolas Nagé is in it.” Allan rubs at a water droplet mark on his tie.

“Oh, wow! The pro footy player slash pro swimmer slash pro actor?”

“Yeah. I would invite you but I think the tickets are sold out-uh. And it’s a double date.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Pim’s definitely a little bummed out-- “I’ll be getting spaghetti with Charlie, anyway.”

“Okay, well,” Charlie claps, “you ready to go, Pim?”

“Yep!”

“Cool. Uhhhh, see you guys next year then?”

“See ya.”

“Jwejwejkwesdfj.”

“Aight. C’mon, Pim.”

///

Of course spaghetti disco had a bar— and of course the main course Charlie aimed for was some special holiday drink he saw them posting about on social media. He took a seat at the bar before Pim could suggest a booth or maybe a table somewhere.

It’s fine, Pim thinks. Really not the end of the world.

Pim struggles to work his way up on top of the bar stool. When he finally makes it, he’s just a little bit out of breath. Charlie looks over just in time to say, “oh, dude, I could have helped you.”

Pim waves it off with a smile. His shirt is wrestled out from so tightly tucked in his pants. It’s fine, he’s gonna be eating (and presumably drinking the way Charlie wants to take this night) so he may as well leave himself a smidge disheveled.

“You know, Charlie,” Pim tries three or four times to perch his chin on his balled fist comfortably, “I didn’t ask what you’re doing for Christmas. You celebrate, right?”

Their spaghetti arrives and they thank the waitress. It’s in the same cup they use for their drinks; a trademark of Spaghetti Disco. It almost looks like worms, and Pim scrunches his face at it a little.

“Well yeah, I’m Catholic,” Charlie adds pointedly. The bartender slides an Iron City to each of their spots in addtion to Charlie’s Christmas themed drink. They both thank him subtly.

“Well— I wasn’t sure, I mean.. I know a lot of people that are Catholic that don’t practice.”

Charlie throws back a hefty swig of the beer. He grimaces and sets it down. Some of it dribbles down his lip. He steals a sip of the Christmas drink and cringes worse.

“Yeah, but like— here’s the thing, Pim. Christmas is like, not even a holiday anymore dude. It’s like…” Charlie takes off his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and replaces the hat, “it’s just a thing to get people to buy shit now. You know? Like-like I haven’t had, like, a magical—or whatever— Christmas since I was a kid.”

“Oh, Charlie! That’s not fair,” Pim frowns. “You deserve to have a good Christmas again. That’s so sad!”

“No no, Pim, you’re missing the point. I’m saying no one has them anymore once you’re older. Like it’s all just fuckin… matching Christmas pjs at Walmart that you wear like, once… and stuff that kinda just goes on sale and-and they throw away after Christmas because no one fuckin-“ he burps— “Excuse me. No one fuckin wants, like… a fuckin “Ho Ho Ho I’m- there’s a baby on the way!” shirt after, like, Christmas morning. Like it all just gets thrown away.”

He takes a big sip of his drink and a heaping bite of spaghetti, commenting under his breath that it’s hitting the spot. Pim takes the minute to really hear what he has to say.

“Hmm.” Is all he has to reply with at first. Charlie is still chewing, so Pim articulates a better response as he winds up a fork of spaghetti. “You know, I think-I think it’s situational. I think it’s really wonderful in the right situation. Like, the-“

“Like the… Pj’s? And shit?”

“The- yeah. Like, if it’s with the right people.”

Charlie shoots him a suspicious look as he says this.

“What, are you talking about your family? Because-“

And they both talk at once,

“Yeah! I mean, they’re not perfect, but— oh.“

“Because they seemed horrible last time— oh.”

A quiet moment passes. Charlie looks away awkwardly.

“Sorry, Pim.”

“You thought they were horrible?”

“I mean, yeah, man. They were like… fully fucking shooting at each other. With guns. Like that’s…. That’s abnormal. I’d honestly avoid people like that. And try to get the, um, kids out of that situation.”

“Well, yeah, they shouldn’t— I mean I’m not disagreeing with you, but they’re still my family, and it’s not that bad if you just go away when they do it.”

“Pim. That’s not normal. Like- like genuinely, I’d avoid them. That sounds awful. You get to go away, they don’t.”

“But, I still love them, you know? Like, I can’t just… and you know, the kids, too. Like they need to talk to someone, um, normal. Like I think coming by is good for them.”

“Just call, like, CPS.”

“Oh, um- Mister Frog actually got rid of CPS a few months ago.”

“What?” Charlie stops mid bite. “Like- like really?”

“Yeah, he- it was kind of sudden. Um. I think I told you when it happened, like at the office, I guess you didn’t hear me…”

“Yeah, no, I definitely didn’t. That’s awful. I hope those kids’ll be alright.”

With the conversation becoming a bit heavier, they both take a minute to eat. Pim looks at Charlie a lot. At some point, Pim opens his mouth to talk, then closes it. Then,

“So, you’ve got no plans then?” Pim asks.

“I’m gonna get wasted and I’m gonna play some Rust. The patch they just put out should make these idiots running the server I’m on lose everything. It’s gonna be great.”

“Oh. Well, anything else?”

Charlie finishes his beer and it’s replaced with a new one when the bartender passes by. The Christmas drink is being ignored.

“That’s pretty much it.”

“No holiday stuff? At all?”

“Probably gonna find a new years party.”

“Nothing for Christmas. then?”

“Nah, I guess not.”

They both take long gulps of their drink.

“So.” Pim says. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Charlie…”

“Yeah?” Charlie has spaghetti taking up his entire mouth and face. He suffers from late stage spaghetti kid syndrome, evidently.

“Would… so, you don’t have to, and I know you just kind of made your stance clear, but I thought I’d ask…” Pim takes a big breath. “I’m supposed to stay a little over a week at my family’s house for Christmas and I can do it alone, I do every year, but I thought I’d ask because-”

“Pim. No.”

“Oh please, Charlie! Come with me! I promise we can make it fun, it will be a grand adventureee!” He throws his arms up for emphasis.

Charlie crosses his arms.

“No, dude. I’m firm about this. There are a million other things I’d rather do. I’d have to, like, lose my apartment or something.”

Pim frowns and leaves it.

If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, Pim thinks. No use forcing it.

“Alright. But if you feel super sad and lonely and in need of Christmas cheer text me-“ “I won’t.“ “-because I’m leaving around lunchtime.” “Okay, man.”

They eat the rest of their spaghetti, have a few more drinks, and talk about remote work. They talk a lot about remote work. They both leave for their separate apartments by the end of the night.

//

Charlie, cranky,sits in Pim’s car the next morning, his overnight bag in the back and his snarkiness in full swing. Pim is practically bubbling over in excitement at the wheel.

“I just can’t believe both your power and electricity went out as soon as you got home,” Pim can’t hold back his excitement in his voice. “What are the odds?!”

It was true-- Charlie was only home for a few minutes before everything fizzled out. He’d got a call a few minutes later that the power to his apartment building went out (duh) due to the generator being crushed by a wrecking ball used in nearby construction, so there would be no heating or electricity at his place for at least a week. They didn’t even say sorry-- it was an automated call.

His first move would be to couch surf until then, but his options seemed exhausted before he even began looking. Zoey was in California for a highschool friend’s wedding and Christmas with her family, and her roommates definitely wouldn’t want him staying there alone. His uncle lived all the way over past Pittsburgh, so that was a no. Tyler moved to Pittsburgh too a few months ago after getting let off. He claimed the music scene there was “just better”. Fuck Pittsburgh, Charlie thought more than a few times after getting the news. Everyone’s moving to fuckin’ Pittsburgh.

He could get a motel or hotel or Airbnb or Vrbo or whatever, but with the cost of that he might as well go to Brazil and back all over again. He called Pim and he came to pick him up. He crashed at his place and got hardly any sleep.

Pim’s excitement alongside all of this rubbed him the wrong way.

“Pim, can you not treat this as some awesome thing? For one thing, I had to throw out my groceries this week ‘cause of all this. I had, like, really good leftovers I was looking forward to eating.”

“Oh, Charlie, don’t be like that… we can go to the place it’s from when we get back if that’ll make you feel better. My family’s probably gonna cook food all week for us, too, and maybe you can take home some leftovers if you’d like!”

Charlie groans.

“That’s not the point though, man. I just wanted to go home and relax. This year has been nothing but chaos and I think I deserve to just do what I want for a little.”

Especially when the only reason we have this break is because I literally died, he nearly adds, but he bites his tongue.

Pim is quiet. He would hardly call playing Rust relaxing the way he’s seen Charlie react to it, but to each their own he supposes. He tries to think of solutions.

“Well, I mean, you could just take whatever time we have left outside of activities to play video games, or watch your shows or whatever it is you do to relax.”

“Yeah but Pim, that’s the thing, I want to do that and only that. Not that and- and activities, I just wanna relax man.”

“Oh, it will be fun, Charlie!” Pim nudges Charlie with his elbow. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I would and I am.”

//

They drive for about an hour, stopping for coffee at Wawa on the way. It helps, but the annoyance of the whole situation still grates on Charlie, and the looping track of “Dooty Da” on the radio doesn’t help. Charlie decides that it has lost its charm and he turns down the dial.

“If I’m forced to go along with all this, then I’m choosing the music. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, sure, I can listen to whatever.”

Charlie pulls out the filthy old phone adapter cord for the company car (the end where it plugs into the phone is bent and worn so bad the wire is exposed) and he sloppily plugs his phone into the AUX.

“Alright, uhhhhhh… how much longer do we have on the drive?”

“Hmm? Oh, um… another half hour, I’d say.”

“Okay, Pim, you gotta listen to this. Like really listen. It’s like a yearly tradition for me to listen to this album.”

Pim’s interested now.

“And you haven’t shown me this before?” He fiddles with the seam of the leather steering wheel.

“Nah, it’s like- you gotta listen to the whole thing if you’re gonna listen...”

“Yeah, alright! Put it on, yeah.”

Charlie sits through around 12 seconds of two different Youtube ads, skipping as soon as he could.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“Oh, it’s Christmas music! This sounds pleasant!”

“This is the most recent one that came out last year. Every year he writes a new one and adds it to the album. I’m waiting on this year’s.”

“Who is this?”

“Uhh, Mac Demarco. His stuff is amazing, man. Seriously, he’s like, an idol of mine.”

Pim’s happy to see Charlie a little happier. The next song comes on and Pim subtly bops his head to it.

“This one’s a little creepy, haha.”

Charlie takes a big sip of his coffee. “Yea, he’s got range.”

They listen to the music some more and comment on a dog they see in a passing car. Some flurries start up as they take the exit off the highway and ease into the suburbs. House after house is decorated in elaborate Christmas decorations that Pim excitedly gawks at and points to, to which Charlie feels his blood pressure heighten. The further they go outbound, the less fancy the light displays are. There are more of those silly inflatable yard decorations, now. Then, it eases into maybe a few strings on a hedge, or maybe a partially driven over blow mold decoration arrangement, glowing Santas beaming at Charlie and Pim as they drive by.

The album lasts them the rest of the car ride. They talk over some songs and Charlie shushes him for others. When they reach the familiar apartment complex, Charlie seems to be in a better mood overall. Pim makes a mental note to let Charlie DJ in the future.

They pull into the back and see Pim’s mother smoking on the back porch. The flurries have calmed entirely to a flake here and there and there’s a thin layer of snow over everything, replenishing what melted the previous day.

The two get out of the car and she sees them.

“PIMOTHY!”

Pim’s mother snubs her cigarette quickly and rushes over in her pink slippers. She wraps Pim in a big hug, swaying him a little. Charlie goes to grab their bags, and when he comes back, they’re talking about so many different things so quickly Charlie has trouble keeping up. He accidentally makes eye contact with Pim’s mom, who, almost as if she were waiting for a cue, swoops Charlie into a hug.

“Oh, uh,” Charlie doesn’t hug back. He’s visibly uncomfortable.

“How are you, sweetheart? Are you keeping Pim under control?”

Charlie pauses. He realizes he has an opportunity to be very funny and also get revenge on Pim.

“Oh, you know. He’s all mixed up in trouble at the office,” he deadpans.

“What?!”

“Oh he didn’t tell you? Yeah, Pim’s been really into getting up to unprofessional scandalous stuff at work. He brings women in all the time--”

Pim’s contented expression watching the family bonding unfold quickly morphs into one of confusion, then horror.

“HAH! Charlie’s joking,” and he pushes at Charlie’s belly to separate the two. He looks at Charlie desperately. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” he cheeses and looks back at Pim. Mischief lingers in his voice. “Except the last part. He’s one hundred percent a total ladies man. He picks up chicks on the job all the time, honest.”

“PIM! Is this true?! I thought this job was going to keep you honest!” When the pressure was on Pim, Charlie didn’t mind it at all.

“Agh- Charlie! No, it’s not true, mum…” He facepalms.

“What about Jennifer, man?”

“Who?”

“Jennifer, with all the- from the Shrimp adventure.”

Pim looks away quickly, his face heating up. His hands fidget with each other.

“Well…that was different.”

“I thought you would have grown out of that, Pim.” She sighs, and starts walking back to the duplex. “Come inside, get out of this cold. Your siblings have been talking about you all day.”

Pim turns to the car to start carrying bags, and Charlie already has them all in his hands as he shuts the door.

“Oh-- do you want help? That looks heavy…”

“I’m good, man. Just get the door. And do the talking.”

“Okay, sure.”

They follow a little distance behind his mom. Charlie leans a little towards Pim and asks, “so, what’d you grow out of?”

Pim can hear the smile in his voice and he hides his face in his hands. He blushes in embarrassment.

“Argh. I didn’t think she would bring that up…” Pim sighs, “Alright. I dated a ton of girls in highschool-- that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kind of focuses on it a lot, I don’t know why, maybe its a mum thing--”

“Nah, not that. I’m shocked that you- that you had game in highschool.”

“What? Oh, well. I didn’t really know what I was doing,” he confesses. “I was definitely… doing it wrong, looking back.”

“Clearly not, man. You said it, I mean, you dated a ton of girls. And your parents are still mad about it, that’s gotta count for something.”

Pim laughs a little as they get to the patio door.

“You’re funny, Charlie.”

They go inside, wipe their shoes, and are greeted with chaos. If the kids had the capabilities to bounce off the walls, they would be. When Pim walks in, they swarm him. They dogpile him with a hug and before Charlie can get a firm count of how many there are, they’re off again, crawling through the walls and running up the stairs and chasing each other from room to room to room. Pim looks overjoyed and very frazzled down on the floor. Charlie wordlessly helps him up.

“Let’s go set our stuff down upstairs, Charlie.”

They pass through the front room (the holiday tinsel is up and Pim cups his hands to his cheek in adoration) and Charlie hears the TV on in the living room as he follows Pim up the stairs. His dad must be watching something. The occasional shout or laugh from the kids running around keeps Charlie a little on edge.

As they ascend the dark, carpeted staircase, Charlie squints at all the photos, trying to scrape up any blackmail against Pim. At some point, he sets down a bag on the stairs awkwardly and he puts his hand on Pim’s shoulder to stop him.

“Hm? Yes Charlie?”

“Looking pretty dapper here, buddy.”

He points to a photo of Pim wearing a tux, bow tie, and corsage— not to mention the girl on his arm. His smile is massive and his glasses are apparent. The girl looks a little uncomfortable.

Pim laughs-- “Oh no, I thought mum took this down a while ago,” and he reaches for it, only for Charlie to grab it off the wall first.

“Charlie! What are you doing?”

“I need a picture of this, man.”

“NO! What do you need that for? That’s horrible!” He tries unsuccessfully to grab it from Charlie’s hand. Charlie just holds it higher.

“You owe me for dragging me along. This totally counts as part of it.”

“No way. Charlie!” He tries to reach it again, and he accidentally encroaches on Charlie’s personal space. He bumps into Charlie’s stomach and puts a hand on his belly to brace himself. He looks up at him.

“It’s this or something worse.” Charlie threatens casually.

Pim goes quiet.

“Like what?”

“I ‘unno, I’ll think of something.”

They look at each other.

Charlie knows Pim will accept the conditions just looking at his expression, so he sets the other bags down precariously and grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Ugh, fine.” Pim resigns as Charlie takes the photo. He then takes a selfie with it with a fake horrified expression in reaction to it. “Why that one?!”

“I dunno,” he laughs, “thought it might be funny.”

Charlie grabs the stuff again and they continue upstairs.

“Alright. I better not see these in the work Slack, though.”

“No, no, of course not,” Charlie replies, having already sent it to the work Slack.

The rest of the photos on the walls are all pretty innocuous; it all is very domestic. Charlie feels like he shouldn’t be allowed here in this bubble of domesticity before the storm of reality that is Pim’s family hits. He kind of wishes that something will just ruin the moment already so he doesn’t have to look around the corner for something horrible, metaphorically.

Non-metaphorically, Amy pokes her head out from around the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Ew— Pim? I thought you weren’t coming to Christmas this year.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Oh. No one, I made it up. But I was still excited for you to not show up.”

Pim laughs nervously.

“Well, here we are! I brought my coworker Charlie to stay with us. You remember Charlie, right?”

Charlie does a peace sign. “Yo.”

Amy stares blankly at them.

“Anyway, Brad’s over, soooo… don’t bother us.”

She goes back to her room and slams the door.

“She was nicer to me that time, I think.”

They make it to the once-Pim’s-room-now-game-room-slash-guest-room and drop their stuff inside. There’s one kid idling in there and playing Roblox on his Kindle. Pim shoos him out of the room and closes the door behind Charlie and himself.

“Here we are!” Pim says whimsically. “Oh, so many wonderful memories in here…”

Charlie looks around— it’s a mess of toys, AC units, and other child memorabilia that wasn’t deemed important enough to have out. Crazy messy.

“So we’re staying in your family’s storage room? Why don’t they just get like, a storage unit somewhere?”

“I don’t think it’s enough to warrant a storage unit, do you?”

“Maybe, man. You might get cockroaches or something if you leave it all on the floor like this.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” Pim thinks to every other issue in this house that he’d like to resolve first and shakes away the tidiness mission for later. “Anyway, there’s an air mattress around here, I just have to find it,” Pim starts looking under stacks of various clutter.

“Yeah. I was gonna say...”

They both eye the single twin bed.

“I’ll find that as soon as possible if you want to start unpacking…” Pim starts checking the closet. “Agh. It’s just board games in here, and… oh wait! Yes! Epic!” He pulls out a crumpled air mattress with an air pump still plugged into it. He starts clearing out an area for it on the floor. “I’ll take the air mattress since I’m not sure how reliable it is. Would you mind taking my old bed? It’ll be much comfier than this.”

“Yeah man, I don’t care.” Charlie starts grabbing handfuls of toys and cramming them into the already crammed space under the bed. There’s some semblance of bedding, but years of crumbs, dust and dead bugs have accumulated. “Uhhh… got any different bedding?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah. I’ll get that for you now.”

While Pim’s gone, Charlie goes on his phone. He has a few missed snaps— two from Zoey, one from Tyler. Zoey’s is at the beach. She’s smiling and having fun with her friends— they’re all drinking zany colored drinks. Charlie wishes he was too. Tyler’s snap is of a house party where he’s made it behind the DJ’s stand, absolutely destroying the crowd with his stuff. It’s short, but Charlie can tell he’s having a blast. He replies to each of them with a photo of a dead spider on the bed. He captions it, “me rn”. Pim gets back and he puts his phone away.

“Oh, geez man, you got all that?”

Pim holds a tower of bedding— two sets of comforters, pillowcases, blankets, and sheets. “Can you take the bedding off your bed really quickly?” There’s a frantic element to his request and Charlie does as told. He tosses it by the door and Pim drops the bedding on the bed with an exaggerated exhale. He starts on making the mattress.

They spend maybe twenty minutes setting everything up. Charlie settles for a sheet and a blanket, but Pim insists on making it for him if he wouldn’t. The air mattress is only a foot away parallel to Charlie’s bed.

“Alright, it’s 6:30. What do you want to do next, Charlie? I think my family wanted to go out for dinner.”

“You know, I’d really like to but I’m feeling pretty tired, man. I might sit that one out and catch up on some sleep here.”

“Aww, alright. Did you want me to get you anything?”

“Uhhhh, yeah. You know what I like,” and Charlie kicks his shoes off as he sits on the side of his bed. Pim heads over to the doorway. “Lights off?” He asks, to which Charlie politely says, “yes please.”

“Okay, well… sleep well.” Pim smiles sweetly at Charlie and closes the door behind him.

Now it’s time for Charlie to do what he wanted to do from the start.

Rust time.

The second Pim’s footsteps hit the stairs, Charlie speeds over and locks the door. Going back to his bed, he sits down and roots through his bag. He pulls out his laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, and sets everything up. He’s all ready until he realizes he needs wifi.

He checks everywhere. It’s nowhere he’d expect it to be. He considers texting Pim for a minute, but his cover would be blown. Out of options, he returns to his bed and lies down. He groans and sets his stuff on the floor.

He’s pissed— the only thing he wanted to do was check this update. He’ll ask Pim as soon as he gets back. Maybe he can squeeze in an hour or two tonight when they get back. He hopes Pim won’t have an issue with him staying up late to play.

He drifts off, missing his apartment and what he could have had for the next week. He doesn’t expect himself to actually fall asleep.

//

Charlie wakes up to Pim opening the door. The excess light that comes through the door behind Pim’s silhouette is enough to make Charlie squint.

“Agh.”

“Oh! Charlie! Sorry— I didn’t know you were awake!”

Pim takes a step in. He isn’t wearing what he had on before— it’s some navy blue crew neck and sweats.

“How long was I out?” Charlie asks as he sniffles hard and rubs his eyes.

“Well, it’s 11 something…”

“What?” Charlie sits up incredulously. “Why didn’t you wake me up when you got back?!”

“You looked so cozy, I couldn’t! Plus, the dinner was, uh… weird. I assumed you’d want to sleep through the aftermath of that, so.”

Charlie checks his phone and doesn’t respond to Pim. He didn’t have any new texts. Maybe the notifications didn’t register— he opens Snapchat and checks it anyway.

“So…” Pim continues, “I mean, I just got ready for bed, I was gonna go to sleep now.” His sentence fizzles out. Then he throws on, “I don’t know if you want to go back to sleep, or…?”

He eases back down. “I guess,” he says with no confidence in his voice. Pim closes the door behind him and it goes dark. Charlie only now notices the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling over by the window. Pim climbs in bed.

“Your food’s in the fridge, by the way. It’s labeled.”

Charlie shoots back up.

“Oh- okay. No, I’m doing that definitely, yeah. I’ll be right back.”

Charlie doesn’t care to put his shoes on as he sneaks downstairs. The lights are all out, and the television is still on. Upon further inspection, Pim’s dad is asleep on the couch. He snores loudly.

Charlie finds the styrofoam box with “Charlie :-)” written on it. He spares no time in putting it in the microwave. He grabs a fork (he goes through all the drawers and of course it’s the last one) and a napkin. While it cooks, he roots around for something to drink. There’s some orange juice left in the bottom of a jug. He grabs the entire thing and, as his food finishes up, carries everything he foraged with him upstairs.

He sneaks into the room, closes the door quietly, tiptoes over to his bed, and sits down. It’s fries and what looks like a Buffalo chicken wrap. He takes a massive bite and it all feels worth it for a second.

“Charlie, are you eating in here?” Pim’s voice is meek.

“Oh shit. I thought you were asleep already.”

Pim laughs sleepily.

“Almost. That smells really good though.”

“You want a fry?”

“I already brushed my teeth,” Pim says dismally. Charlie shrugs and Pim can’t see.

“You can always rebrush ‘em.”

Pim stretches in his bed and makes a noise Charlie ignores. “Mmm. Maybe.” After a few seconds of thinking about it, he says “yeah, pass me one.”

“Alright!” He hands it to Pim and fist bumps him before he takes his hand away. Pim’s fist is limp and unexpecting. “You know, if it helps, Pim, I’m not brushing my teeth. I forgot my toothbrush at home.”

“Charlie! You could have told me, we could have stopped somewhere…” Pim sits up and scoots over to the edge of his mattress to grab more fries from the box in Charlie’s lap.

“We can get one tomorrow and I’ll brush twice as long or something tomorrow night to make up.”

“That’s not how that works,” and Charlie hears the smirk in Pim’s words.

“Yeah it is. I’ll just scrub off what I didn’t scrub off tonight, it’s not like it’s keeping count or whatever. And— besides, people from like, the 1700’s were making laws or whatever for our country and they didn’t even brush their teeth, they didn’t have this shit, so… yeah.”

“Is that true?”

“I dunno, probably. But it’s not gonna kill me if I skip one night.”

“I’m googling it.”

Their hands touch as they both reach for a fry. Nothing is said.

“It says-“

“What says? What’s your source?”

“Uhh, Reddit. They say-“

“Dude. Get a different source. Go to Wikipedia or something.”

“What? This is fine, they probably took their answer from Wikipedia anyway. They say that people have been brushing their teeth since ancient times with sticks and such, but the added sugars in our diet today make our teeth rot. And something about our teeth being closer together now too.” Pim looks up. “So you should definitely get a toothbrush tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue with you, I’m just saying one night is fine.”

“Well, let me look that up-“

“It’s not gonna change what I do. I don’t have a toothbrush right now, I don’t really have any options, man.”

Pim clicks his tongue. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Charlie finishes his wrap and pim finishes off the fries that Charlie couldn’t force down. Pim goes to brush his teeth again and Charlie lays back down. He’s not really tired, but that’s never stopped him from sleeping.

Charlie can’t help but to thank god for the short day. At least there was good food, good music, and good sleep.

Now they just had to do that for a week.

[grey-lark]

So Steve having a different car in the the pics I saw filled me with a lot of feelings, both a really fun reason and a terribly sad one. This is the sad one! I might also upload this to AO3 once I edit when it's not 6AM, but I hope you enjoy?

The Bimmer doesn’t’ make sense in an apocalyptic situation.

Steve knows this.

As the Upside Down claws it’s way into this universe, tendrils carving pathways across the town, a luxury car just doesn’t make sense.

Steve is well aware.

Hell, Steve is even more aware of this fact because he’s stationed at the high school. Hauling supplies and survivors requires space. It doesn’t require comfort and a smooth transmission. It doesn’t require leather worn by multiple people launching themselves in with reckless abandon, or a back seat that’s somehow always sticky because of soda-stained hands.

It doesn’t require what Steve can offer.

Loch Nora has been seemingly unaffected by the upside down. Steve would say it was the wealthy’s one last jab against the town if he hadn’t seen so many of his former neighbors huddling in the high school. It seems no matter how rich you are, no one can avoid the hunger - the desperation that comes from being completely cut off from the rest of the world.

Steve lets the engine idle in the drive way of his old house. The intact windows gleam with a promise he’d be willing to brave if he didn’t know for a fact how the twisted vines covered the bottom floor of the house. Pressing his head against the steering wheel, he lets the out a shuttering sigh, feeling how the Bimmer purrs, seemingly in time, below him.

“I know, baby” he laments, running a hand across her dashboard before he steals himself and twists the key in his hand. She shutters down, his own shaky breath following.

It feels right, Steve thinks, to leave her here. To leave her in the remnants of a life he used to live. He slides her keys into the visor, in case there is some one who needs her. Someone who can justify loving her, in a way Steve simply can’t.

There’s a truck waiting for him.

Something practical and light blue; such a far cry from his maroon baby. It makes sense, he knows. He knows that a truck will help him in this new, harsh, world they live in. Knows it will be easier to ferry survivors back to the school and supplies to where they need to go. But he can’t help but look at the Bimmer, now silent in front of his old house, and remember how she safely - impossibly - carried five (sometimes six!) children to the mall regardless of seatbelt laws. How she dutifully shuffled Robin to and from school back when they thought their biggest concerns were whether a girl liked them or not. He can hear Bowie and Queen still playing from her speakers and his breath falters, gasping, as he could swear it’s not just in his head.

Maybe somewhere, there are quarters still rattling around, waiting for Dustin to pry them from her carpet, not knowing the arcade has been swallowed for months. Maybe now there’s even the tail end of a blunt under one of front seats, safely kept after Robin dropped it, laughing too hard to hold on to the last few puffs. Maybe, if Steve presses himself against her side hard enough, all the stains – all the memories – will seep into him and leave the Bimmer a little less haunted.

It doesn’t work, of course.  Even after he opens his eyes, after he peels himself from her metal chaises with a shuddering breath, she’s still standing there, same as she ever was. His childhood home too, stands there as it ever has.

They make quite the picture. The large green house and the sleek maroon car and the boy with the styled hair.

All so put together.

All falling apart.

But it’s okay. There’s a truck waiting for him. It’s practical and light blue. The kids have already climbed into it’s back; figuring out their seating arrangements before Steve even had time to yell at them about the safety issues of riding back there. Max will sit up front in the cabin with him, no matter how much she complains – Vecna assured that. But even she smiles when she hears the hoots and hollers of The Party in the back, howling their freedom in defiance to an ever reddening sky.

Steve’s finger brush the taillight of the Bimmer, before running through his own hair. He sees the house he grew up in; the streets that were his home. He sees his car, his baby, shining like she did when he first saw her. He leaves her, a useless car parked outside an empty home.

His car.

Parked outside his home.

There is a truck waiting for him.