#floury (oc)

[trashbins-stuff]

Mmm

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Halloween Cookies - Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Title: Halloween Cookies

Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Lydia (Mentioned), Laria (OC), Bryan (OC), Mabel (OC) (Mentioned), Michael (OC) (Mentioned), Ruby Rose (OC), and random partygoers (Mentioned)

WC: 5,917

Warnings: Musical Beetlejuice, and Beetlejuice in general, teasing, banter, flirting, suggestive, italics, movie references, cursing, mentions of death, very brief mention of blood, nicknames, Reader wears a dress, mood ring hair, mini angst, and fluff

"When are you gonna start paying attention to me..?" Beetlejuice trailed off with a whine, watching as you rolled out some cookie dough on the floury counter. "Babe!" He continued when you didn't even look up at his outburst. 

"I am trying to make cookies, Beej," You spoke, voice slightly strained from adding pressure to the rolling pin. "You know the Halloween party is tonight. I need to get these done." You wiped your face with the back of your hand, smearing flour on your cheek. "I've been putting these off for far too long."

He sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed across his chest as he looked at the many Halloween-themed cookie cutters on the counter beside him. "Yeah, well, this wasn't exactly what I meant by spending time together, babes." The demon huffed before speaking again, eyes narrowing as he focused on the side of your face, "And I don't understand why I can't come with you to this party." He continued to pout, acting like a toddler who was told they couldn't have candy.

You returned his gaze, giving him a 'don't start crap now' look. "Beetlejuice..." You lightly threatened, making the demon huff again, turned to look away from you, and you did the same, returning to your cookies. "First off, we spent all day cuddling and having a ‘Friday The 13th’ marathon, among other things...” You gave him a glance, “Secondly, I know you want to have fun, especially tonight, it being Halloween and all…" You pushed away from the counter, walking around Beetlejuice to grab a handful of cookies cutters; but, before you moved back to the rolled-out dough, you stood before you ghoulish boyfriend, "And you know I love you, and trust you," Beetlejuice looked at you, his pout still upon his face, his green eyes softening.

"But..." He trailed off, knowing that there was indeed a 'but'. 

"But, I know you, Beej, I know that if you come with me... You'll cause some- uh, maybe not-so welcomed chaos, and possibly scare my friends to death." 

His green eyes stared at you before he looked away suddenly, "You don't trust me." He stated and you shook your head.

"Beej, I do. But, I know you. You are BJ after all. I know causing chaos is kind of your thing." Cutting out the last cookie from the dough, you sighed, "I would love to bring you with me. My friends have been asking about you. My mysterious, secret boyfriend." You looked over at him, seeing that he was still turned away, his spiky hair turning a shade of purple-ish red. You bit your lip, seeing how much this was upsetting him.  

Thinking about it, yeah, there was a pretty high chance that if you brought Beetlejuice to the party with you, he'd do something, but there was also a chance that he wouldn't do anything... Too chaotic. But that was just Beetlejuice, that was what he liked to do. It made him happy to see the fear in people's eyes, their shock, the reaction to his horrific pranks. He liked the attention.

But, if you left him at home, he'd grow bored pretty quickly. He was almost like a cat in a way sometimes, wanting attention or knocking random things off counters… And maybe he wouldn't even heed your words and just show up, that was a whole other thing. Or he'd leave and cause chaos around town. Maybe even scare a few, poor trick-or-treaters. You hated the idea of leaving him all alone. Ever since the moment you met the ghoul, he'd been stuck to you like glue. And, honestly, you'd been stuck on him too. But, again, you felt terrible. You hated seeing your demon upset.

Wiping your hands on a dish rag, ridding the flour from them, you moved in front of him. Quickly, he moved his gaze to the ground, his chin pressing into his chest, a pout still on his lips. Raising your hand, you gently cupped his bearded cheek, brushing your fingers through the coarse hairs as you bent down to move into his line of sight that had been aimed at the kitchen floor. His eyes reluctantly met yours, having no place else to look - unless he closed his eyes - you gave him an apologetic smile. 

"Beetlebaby," You cooed, the nickname rolling off your tongue, one that usually made the demon melt into a puddle of green goo; sometimes even literally. You noticed the corner of his lips twitch, "I'm sorry," You went on, "You can come with me to the party tonight if you want to." 

The demon raised an eyebrow, lifting his head, as did you, returning to your full heights. "Really?" He was skeptical, "I can go?" The more he spoke, the more you could see the excitement reappear in his eyes. 

"Yeah," You nodded, your thumb brushing along his bearded cheek, "Just as long as you don't, you know, cause too much trouble. Like, please don’t force people to dance against their will or make your eyes cry blood, okay?"

"Oh, baby!" He reached out to you, cupping your cheeks with his cold hands and landing a somewhat slobbery kiss to your lips, before pulling you into a giant bear hug; jumping up and down with you in his arms. "When is the party? What are you wearing? We can match! I can meet your friends! They'll be so jealous when they see the two of us!" 

All the while, during his rant and hug, you couldn't help but chuckle fondly, though slightly strained as he let go of his hug. "Actually, I had this idea for a costume, but since you're coming with me..." You trailed off, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. "Why don't you choose for us? Just nothing too… Uh, too risque." 

Letting out his signature - almost maniacal - laugh, he snapped his fingers; making you worry slightly. Instantly, a swirling cloud of green smoke surrounded you in a 'poof' and as it faded away, you found yourself dressed in your new Halloween costume.

The dress was a floor-length gown of deep black silk that fit closely to your figure. It then flared out at your knees, it even featured a low - but not too low - neckline; in a 'v' shape, and the sleeves ended just above your wrists. The fabric draped gracefully, creating a smooth, uninterrupted line from neckline to hem. 

Just looking down at yourself, you knew exactly what, or who, you were dressed as. The style of the dress was a mix between Morticia Addams’ dress from the 'Addams Family' movies and the old, black and white TV show. It was perfect. 

Looking up from admiring yourself, you noticed that Beetlejuice had also changed. Instead of his tattered black and white suit, he traded it for a classic suit with dark pinstripes - a perfect tailored fit. He even included the matching vest, a white dress shirt, and a bow tie. His outfit was completed with a pocket watch and black and white wingtip shoes.

His costume wasn’t even tattered; another surprise.

He looked amazing, and different in an incredibly good way. He looked so handsome and dapper. As you admired him, Beetlejuice tried to slick his hair back like Gomez Asdams’, licking up the palm of his hand and sliding back his - back to green - hair, only for it to almost cartoonishly pop right back up to its original state. 

Letting out a small giggle at his antics, he looked up, his green eyes darkening as he 'subtly' eyed you up and down; taking his time ogling you. "Damn, baby!" He exclaimed, wiggling his fingers as he reached out for you, grabbing your waist, "You might be hotter than Hell itself. Rawr.” He grinned, his pointy teeth showing.

You bit your lip as a few giggles erupted out of you at his words, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks as you also tried to ignore that he just said ‘rawr’ out loud. "Thank you, Beej. You look great too. You even cleaned up nice too."

“Hey! How very rude of you. I did this all for you.” He pouted with faux sadness, before continuing, “Aside from the slander,” The grin on his face quickly returned, "I know how much you love 'The Addams Family.' The moment I watched it with you, I knew you'd look killer in that dress." His hands on your waist wandering down to your hips. “And I was right~” He sing-songed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “If I wasn’t already dead, you would’ve killed me, baby.”

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh, feeling your heart run a mile a minute. You loved how he remembered your favorite things, interests, and hobbies. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you." You fawned, looking back at him, only for his grin to widen. 

"Oh," He began, his hands leaving you only for one of his hands to take one of yours. Leaning down slightly, he brought your hand to his smirking lips, keeping the intense eye contact. "I have a few ideas, cara mia." He murmured seductively as he began to pepper kisses upon your hand, all the while, you couldn't help but giggle; his beard tickling you. “You know, babe, we could always skip the party... Who needs all those other breathers when we could have our own private Halloween party right here?” He paused from kissing your arm, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that are way more fun than bobbing for apples and head-banging to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’.” He added before returning to his Gomez-esque kisses up your arm and traveling onto your shoulder.

Feeling the familiar pull of his mischievous charm, you huffed, amused, “As tempting as that sounds, Beej,” You teased, “I’ve got a reputation to uphold. And I’m pretty sure skipping out on my friend’s party would raise a few eyebrows. Especially when I've told her I was coming.” Feeling his disappointed groan reverberate against your neck, you continued, "And, I've got to put these cookies in the oven," You muttered, your voice soft as he pulled you into his chest, his lips danced across your neck as you spoke; still trying to sway you, your hands wrapped around his waist. "The party is three hours away and I still need to bake and decorate them."

Pulling away reluctantly, you felt his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest once more; your hands lifted, your fingers fiddling with the collar of his new suit. "Fine, I guess we can go, but first, Mr. Beebleboose wants some sugar."

You smirked, "Come and get it."

~~~

Closing the plastic green lid on the container full of your homemade Halloween cookies, you quickly slid the container further towards yourself once you caught sight of Beetlejuice's greedy, wiggling fingers creeping towards it in your peripheral. 

"No cookies until we're there, Beej. And please don't eat all the food at the party. You need to leave some for everyone else." You gave him a look before you headed to the door. He pouted, but said nothing as he floated close behind. “I just really hope someone - aside from you - eats my cookies this year.” You muttered, mostly to yourself, already 'poofed' in shoes - from when your boyfriend ‘poofed’ your dress on you - you grabbed your car keys from the small, black and white snake tray Beej made you, on the table near the front door. 

“Why wouldn’t those breathers eat your cookies?” Beetlejuice asked, only for you to shrug, grabbing your phone.

“Someone always brings a few boxes of those sugar cookies. You know, the ones that usually have the pink icing, and the sprinkles. Everyone loves them, and I do too, but I am not too sure that people are going to flock to my cookies if those are available.” You tried not to sound too disappointed, but you had a feeling that people weren’t going to eat your cookies, especially since there would be a lot of other snacks there, “It’s fine though. In the end, there will be more cookies for you when we get home.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly at your words, gears began to turn in his mind before he spoke, "You know I could just teleport us there," Beetlejuice spoke up, only for you to shake your head, jingling your keys on your finger. 

"Nope, I'm driving." You exited the house with him before locking the front door and heading to your car parked in the driveway. "Let me make you my passenger princess." 

"Teleportation is quicker." He muttered, and with a huff, his hair turning pink at his hairline from your teasing words. With another huff, he teleported himself into the passenger seat, making you roll your eyes, a smile on your face.

The ride to your friend's house wasn't too long of a drive - especially when your ghost with the most was screaming out the lyrics of every song that popped up on the radio. Your friend lived just outside of town, in a somewhat more populated area. When you pulled up to her house, you let out a sigh, seeing all the parked cars sitting on her front and side lawn, and seeing the colorful lights flickering in the windows.

"Alright, I'm gonna warn you." You began, turning to your ghoul of a boyfriend, "My friends all mean well, but they might ask you and us a lot of questions."

Beetlejuice let out a 'pfft,' "Not a problem, babes! Everyone will love me!” But before he could even teleport out, you stopped him, grabbing his hand.

"Beej, what am I supposed to call you? Not that I don't love your name, but for one, I can't say your name. I don't want to call you something that could, uh, send you away or something."

Beetlejuice blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard by your thoughtfulness. A brief flash of something softer crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk. “Aw, you thinkin’ about lil’ ol’ me, huh?” He tried to brush the soothingly warm feeling off. “Alright, alright. For the sake of blending in at this little shindig, how about you call me ‘Lawrence’.” He winked.

“‘Lawrence’? That was pretty quick. You already think about this or something?”

Beetlejuice shrugged, “Well, it was the name my mother gave me. So I thought it would work.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “Really? Then where did the B word come from?”

“It's my middle name.” 

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly, “Well, I think ‘Lawrence’ works perfectly. And not to mention, I kind of love it.”

You noticed his green hair turning a bit pink again - he loved the way you said his name - he let out yet another maniacal laugh, teleporting himself out of the car, suddenly standing outside the driver's side door. Opening the door for you, he offered his hand out to you, his grin wide, "Cara mia,"

Taking his offered hand, you returned his grin, "Mon cher." 

Walking up to the front door, you felt a wave of excitement and nervousness wash over you as you rang the doorbell; your free hand tightening your hold on the cookie container pressed into your side. Though, with Beetlejuice's hand in yours, you weren't as nervous as you usually were when going to events and parties. You weren't the biggest party fan, but you loved Halloween and Halloween parties.

Letting out a breath, you felt Beetlejuice squeeze your hand gently, gaining your attention, "You got his, babes." He muttered, his words calming your heart slightly. “We'll knock ‘em dead.”

"Thanks, Beej… But, hopefully not literally." You murmured out a small chuckle, giving him a hopeful look to which he grinned just as the front door opened. 

"Oh, my gosh! You’re here!" You heard the host - your best friend, Laria - exclaim, and squeal. Your head snapped away from Beetlejuice, and your smile grew - not only at the sight of your friend, but because she was dressed as Elle Woods from ‘Legally Blonde’, in her iconic pink outfit. All she was missing was Bruiser. "And you actually brought your boyfriend!" She continued, before she turned her attention to Beetlejuice - well, 'Lawrence’ at the moment. "She's told me so much about you! Well, not a lot. Y/N's always been pretty secretive when it comes to relationships." She waved a hand in the air, before gesturing for the two of you to come inside. "Party has already started. Oh! And you brought your cookies! The snack table is by the kitchen, feel free to grab something to eat or drink!"

Entering, you could practically feel Beetlejuice buzzing with anticipation, his hand in yours was twitching. You knew that he was just itching to do something. His green eyes were flickering from one thing to the other; from DJ dressed as Mikey the Ninja Turtle - who happened to be Laria’s cousin - with the loud speakers playing Halloween-themed music.

The party lights were casting different colors on the small dance floor in the middle of the living room, where the many, many partygoers were talking, dancing, eating, and drinking. And lastly, his eyes landed on the table near the kitchen with all of the snacks; covering in cookies, chips, fruits, and even a cracker and veggie plate. Again, you could see how much he was holding himself back, his mind was probably overflowing with chaos-filled ideas.

Finding yourself in the living room, you spotted several familiar faces; Laria's older sister Mabel, who was dressed as Jack Skeleton from ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’. Then you spotted another familiar face; your other friend, Ruby Rose, who was currently engaged in conversation with two others you didn't recognise. You even saw Bryan, from your college days, who was drinking with Laria's boyfriend, Michael, who was dressed just in a Sonic The Hedgehog onesie. Other than that, there had to have been more than thirty people crammed into the small house that you were now standing in. You were just so glad that no one had decided to wear one of those giant inflatable dinosaur suits.

"So!" Laria began, speaking a bit loudly to be heard over the loud music, "Aren't you going to introduce your boyfriend to me?" Her tone was playful; all of your mutual friends had been dying - no pun intended - to meet your mysterious boyfriend ever since you told them you weren't single anymore. And out of all of them, Laria was the one that seemed the most interested? Excited? Yeah, she was excited.

"Oh, yes, Laria,.." You began, tugging Beetlejuice's hand gently, pulling him into your side a bit, gaining his attention, "This is my boyfriend, Lawrence. I finally convinced him to take a day off work to join me." You rambled out, almost slipping up, but it seemed Laria didn't even notice, and if she did, she didn't say anything. 

Her bright eyes widened, turning to Lawrence with a curious smile, "Really? Lawrence, it is nice to finally meet you. My name is Laria. Y/N and I have been friends ever since high school." She then continued, "What do you do for work? And on Halloween of all nights?”

As Beetlejuice began to open his mouth, you interrupted him, "Oh, he's a mortician." You said without missing a beat, and Beetlejuice's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Yeah, I’ve got a killer job, ya’know? Business is always dead, but hey, my clients never complain!" He winked, clearly enjoying the morbid joke, chuckling darkly; creepily almost. 

Laria blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his dark humor. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to play along, though a bit unsure. "Well, that’s... Spooky and definitely one way to look at it!" She said, her smile slightly strained but polite. She glanced at you, her eyes questioning but amused, as if trying to gauge whether this was just his usual sense of humor or not. You answered her question with a playful roll of your eyes, and an amused smile of your own; Beetlejuice loved his dark jokes.

"Well, I don’t know about you lovely ghouls," Beetlejuice announced with a grin, reluctantly letting go of your hand as his eyes zeroed in on the snack table, "But I am absolutely dying for a snack!"

Before you could say anything, Beetlejuice took the plastic container of cookies from your other hand and zipped over to the snack table. 

"So..." Laria began, glancing at Beetlejuice before returning her gaze to you, "Morticia and Gomez Addams?”

You nodded, clasping your hands together, “Yeah, his idea.”

Laria nodded her head slowly, her eyes narrowing, still amused, “Was it his idea to go the whole… Undead Gomez Addams route?”

Taking a second to understand what she meant, you quickly nodded back, “Oh yeah,” You let out a nervous sigh as you answered, “He's one for the dramatics and, you know, being a bit extra and unique.”

Laria raised an eyebrow, her curiosity evident. "He's... Definitely something," She said, her tone teasing but not unkind. "I can see why you’ve kept him under wraps. Quite the character, huh?"

You chuckled, nodding. "Oh, no, yeah, he is a handful, he always keeps things interesting. But that's not why I didn't introduce you or anyone else to him sooner." You tried to explain, "You know how I am..." You paused, searching for the right words. "I wanted to make sure this was serious before introducing him to anyone. I really care about him, Laria. He’s... Different, but in the best way. He makes me feel like I’m truly myself when I’m with him."

Laria’s teasing expression softened as she saw the sincerity in your eyes. She could tell from the way you spoke, the way your voice caught just a little when you spoke about him, that this was more than just a casual fling or something that'd end in a month or two. "I can see that," She said gently. "It’s written all over your face. I’m happy for you, really. If he makes you this happy, that’s what counts.”

Your eyes wandered over to Beetlejuice, who was still at the snack table. He looked over at you, his green eyes catching yours from across the room. A toothy grin spread across his face as he gave you a playful wave; wiggling his fingers and eyebrows in that charmingly mischievous way of his.

The sight of him - the red, green, and purple lights hitting him perfectly, reflecting off his hair, accentuating his features, caused you to lose focus slightly - leaving you breathless. You could barely breathe, your heart pounding rapidly, your eyes transfixed on him. 

Unbeknownst to you, all the while you were admiring Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice was admiring you. 

How could he not? You were perfect, gorgeous, and everything in between. 

As Beetlejuice glanced over at you from the snack table, a surge of admiration - surprisingly soft for someone like him - washed over him. You were the absolute picture of perfection, standing there with the party lights casting a warm, flattering glow on you. Your smile, that radiant, effortless smile, made him feel like a total sap, and he was loving every second of it. 

He was holding back from pulling any of his classic Halloween pranks, like turning the punch bowl into a bubbling cauldron of gooey, green slime or making the fog machine go rogue and fill the entire room. Or even forcing everyone to dance like some eighties’ rom-com. But you said not to do that. He didn't want to upset you, nor did he want to upstage his own dazzling date. Not tonight.

Beetlejuice’s smirk grew as he thought, his eyes leaving you briefly to glance around at the partygoers, 'You know if they only knew what I was really capable of, this party would be one for the history books. But no, I’ve gotta play nice. Gotta let them see the softer, mushier side of me. Or at least the side that doesn’t turn the turtle DJ into a human jack-in-the-box.'

He returned his gaze to you, watching as you began talking to more of your friends. 'And speaking of soft and mushy,' He mused to himself, 'You looking so damn perfect tonight, I’m practically bursting at the seams with how much I want to pull you close and kiss your pretty little mouth, taste the sweetness of your lips and-' 

He licked his lips subconsciously, and raised one of your cookies to his lips as a small group of three partygoers walked over to the snack table, laughing at something one of them had said. He gave them the side-eye, listening in on their conversation while also noticing that all three of them had reached out for the cookies. And just like you had said, they each grabbed a few of those store-bought sugar cookies with the orange and green icing. 

Beetlejuice stared down at the snack table, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Your nice, homemade, Halloween-themed cookies - that were absolutely delicious, and to die for, might he add - had been overlooked and ignored. He didn’t understand it. 

Death-glaring down at those sugar cookies, he wondered why someone would ignore your perfectly wonderful cookies for something so… Seemingly bland in creativity. You had spent a good hour decorating your cookies. For him, it was an injustice. The nerve of some people…

The familiar tingle of mischief coursed through him, and Beetlejuice grinned, getting an idea. 

"How did you two meet?" Ruby Rose asked, dressed in her Halloween costume; Barbie's skater outfit from the Barbie Movie, having replaced the neon yellow, roller-blades with neon yellow high-tops. You, Laria, Ruby Rose, and Bryan were standing near the dancefloor, catching up since it had been a while since the four of you had been all together, and boy, did they all have questions for you.

"Oh, uh, through a mutual friend." You struggled slightly with answering, though it was true. You did originally meet Beetlejuice through Lydia.

"Ooooh! Have you gotten to ‘I love yous’ yet? Who said it first?" Ruby Rose then asked, hopping up and down slightly, her hands clasped at her chest; her eyes practically shimmering. 

You let out a sigh, biting down on your bottom lip, "He did." You muttered, but they heard you, your three friends 'aweing' as you thought back to that night.

It was movie night - watching a cult classic movie - when he just blurted it out. You could tell that he was nervous, a sight that you weren't used to seeing in the demon. He didn't really get nervous. After he blurted it out, he tried to laugh it off, but you knew that he meant it; his usually green hair was bright pink.

You were shocked, pleasantly so, speechless for a moment, but said it back. For a moment, you thought that you had broken him. The pink color in his hair deepened, spreading down onto his beard, the shoulders of his striped suit, and tie. 

But, before you knew it, he ‘popped’ out of the room; teleporting away. Only later did you realize that he probably left because of how vulnerable he was feeling, not knowing how to fully express himself, and even possibly the shock of it all. And you understood.

But, it didn't take long until he was back to his chaotic self. And ever since then, Beetlejuice made it his mission every day to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

"Aside from the dark jokes and somewhat erratic personality..." Bryan began, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was dressed as Thor from the MCU. He took a sip of his drink from his red solo cup, "What else is he like?" 

“Besides the dark jokes and his erratic personality?” You echoed, trying to find the right words to paint a picture of Beetlejuice without revealing too much. “Well, he's just got this power to make anything exciting. Like, the dishes for example. I hate doing them, but he can just turn terribly boring chores into something fun. He's also incredibly charismatic. And very passionate about what he likes to do.” You smiled as a few core memories popped up, “He's also protective, but not in the bad way. He's very loyal and devoted to a fault. He also just loves doing things for me.” You shrugged, feeling your heart warm as you thought more about the love of your life. "And despite his quirks, he’s got a really good heart, and he’s sweet, in his own unique way.” You pressed a hand to your cheek, letting out a small laugh, "I could continue on for hours, just talking about him..."

Ruby Rose tilted her head, a fond smile appearing on her lips. "What about his hobbies? What does he like to do, aside from being a mortician?"

“He’s into a bunch of offbeat stuff - like, he’s got this thing for classic horror movies and old-school rock music. And he’s really into creating these elaborate, almost theatrical surprises for me. Sometimes I come home after a hard day at work and I just find a giant box of chocolates on the kitchen counter or a bunch of flowers." Half of that ending statement was true. Beetlejuice loved to give you gifts, he just - not to beat around the bush here - liked to give you more unique items.

Instead of chocolates and living flowers, well... You'd sometimes come home to dead roses in your vase. Beetlejuice had even once gifted you what he called, 'The Essence Of Chaos,' which was just a small vial on a keychain. Inside, it was just glitter, in different colors, but Beetlejuice swore it was the secret ingredient to his own brand of madness. Then there was even a day when Beetlejuice gifted you a distorted mirror. Like one of those mirrors you’d see in fun houses. Beetlejuice just loved seeing you laugh at the funny faces both you and he would create with it. He called it your 'true chaotic self' mirror.

Most people, if they knew, would probably think his gifts were a bit odd and maybe even creepy at times, but you thought that his gifts just showed you how thoughtful he was. He never gave you thoughtless gifts, that's for sure. To you, these gifts were perfect because they were from Beetlejuice.

Every time you saw the dead roses on your kitchen counter, or caught a glimpse of yourself in that warped mirror in the hallway, it was a reminder that he was always thinking about you, always finding ways to bring a little bit of his world into yours, and make you smile.

At your words, Ruby Rose sighed, "That's so romantic..."

Nodding, Laria spoke, "Yeah, he sounds really great. I bet he wouldn't hesitate to do anything for you."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head lightly. "Trust me, he’s already convinced me of that." You stated, chuckling.

Just then, the 'Monster Mash' was replaced with the alluring strains of Santana’s "Black Magic Woman", and the atmosphere in the room shifted subtly. The hypnotic guitar riffs and deep, mesmerizing rhythm filled the air. From across the room, back near the snack table, Beetlejuice’s eyes lit up with mischievous delight, his usual grin widening into a more confident, more knowing smirk as his gaze landed back on you.

Beetlejuice sauntered over to you, his signature smirk stretched across his lips as you turned your head, your attention on him. With a dramatic flourish, he extended his hand, “Ready for a little spellbinding dance, babes?” 

'Speak of the devil...' Your heart fluttered as you bit down on your bottom lip. "We’ll catch up with you three after?" You asked your friends, and they waved you off, nodding, catching a glimpse of their amused expressions before being pulled over to the small dancefloor. 

The crowd's chatter faded into the background as he guided you to the center of the room, his movements exaggerated and theatrical. As the song’s rhythm took hold, Beetlejuice's dance style was a curious mix of seductive and eccentric. He twirled you with flair, his gestures grandiose and also a bit clumsy. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to master a series of spins and twirls. Despite the clumsy moments, there was something undeniably charming about the way he danced. His eyes never left yours, filled with a playful glimmer that made your heart race. 

As the song approached its final notes, Beetlejuice’s movements grew slower, more deliberate. With a grin, he pulled you close, and twirled you out, back in, and over-exaggeratedly dipped you; his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. Your leg lifted gracefully up to his waist, and you found yourself gazing up at him, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

But, immediately, you grew suspicious. "Beej," You trailed off, your tone soft but accusatory as he pulled you back up. "What did you do?" You asked, briefly glancing around the room, only to see that nothing was out of place, and no one was screaming. Yet.

Beetlejuice’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer, barely containing his giggles. “I did something,” He whispered with an almost child-like tone.

You narrowed your eyes. “I know you did something. I can tell, you’re very obvious. What did you do?” You pressed, waiting for his answer.

Before he could respond, a series of exclamations erupted from the partygoers around you.

“Why is there a sugar cookie in my hair!?” Someone shouted, bewildered.

“Seriously! I found one in my pocket! But it's covered in this weird green goo!” Another person called out, pulling the cookie out with a look of confusion.

“Who put a cookie in my cup?” A third voice demanded, holding up the soggy cookie with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. 

Beetlejuice’s laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. “Well, it looks like my little plan worked!” He said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “I might’ve hidden the sugar cookies in all sorts of places.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed with realization. “You did what?”

“Yep!” Beetlejuice grinned triumphantly. “I figured if people were finding cookies in their hair and drinks, they’d have to eat yours instead of the bland store-bought ones.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you as you watched the confused partygoers rummaging through their pockets, drinks, and hair. “You’re unbelievable,” You said, shaking your head with a grin.

Beetlejuice chuckled, pulling you close. “And you love me for it! Sometimes a little chaos is just what a party needs. So, I guess bringing me was a good idea."

"Of course, I love you," You cooed, cupping his bearded cheek that was tinged pink, though you doubted anyone else would notice in the dim light of the party. He leaned into your touch, practically purring; there was a rumbling in his chest. "And thank you for sabotaging the corrupt cookie cartel."

Beetlejuice’s eyes sparkled as he gazed at you. “Ah, anything for you, babes!” He then gave a theatrical sigh. "Now, let me show you just how much I appreciate you and your amazing cookies.” He said in a funny, posh accent before he gently grabbed your face with both of his hands and brought you in for a sloppy, yet passionate kiss. 

---

Main Masterlist | Beetlejuice The Musical Masterlist

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XVI

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General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5.1K

20 Yelona

Like most people, Kazi maintained certain self-destructive tendencies that, when willfully ignored, could and would fuck her over. 

In particular, her tendency to avoid a problem created an unhealthy handling of her emotions.

So, it wasn’t a surprise when her early-morning attempt to prepare quiche went awry. 

Originally, when she first prepared the dish for the men a month ago, it was her way to show her appreciation for their respectful cohabitation. A simple meal for them to take on their mission.

Eventually, though, her childhood interest renewed. Preparing the traditional dish reminded her of chilly mornings at the harbor. 

Sitting on a barrel while the ships prepared for their journeys, she listened to the sailors tell their tales of oceanic beasts and tumultuous storms. She snacked on her father’s leftover quiche, and when the ships were secured, she stood on the dock watching her father’s ship disappear on the horizon, eager for new stories upon his return. 

Unfortunately, this morning’s quiche preparation couldn’t distract her from her thoughts. Her emotions were scattered, and when she tried to pinpoint one, a conflicting one arose.

She was interested in Wolffe. 

She was lonely and wanted a friend.

She thought Wolffe might be interested in her.

She was dramatizing her life and looking into nonexistent corollaries. 

She wanted to be with Wolffe.

Wolffe was a man she respected and trusted, and she was deluding herself into believing he wanted her.

Gritting her teeth, Kazi glared at the lump of dough she was kneading. It was too floury. Too thick and coarse.

With a defeated sigh, she tossed the inedible batch, cleaned the counters and dishes, and washed her hands. Movement outside the sunroom’s windows—both Wolffe and Fox were outside when she returned from her swim, the former tending to the garden while the latter sanded the tree trunk he fell weeks ago—convinced her to leave the house and skip another awkward morning with Wolffe.

The past six days Kazi tried to act normal. Pretended her revelation lacked depth. Her attempts to remain casual and unbothered came across as aloof and apathetic. 

Ever observant, Wolffe commented on her unusual behavior yesterday morning. Flustered by his shrewd gaze and her tiny, persistent tug of yearning she tried and failed to snip away, she told him to mind his own business and then left. They hadn’t been alone since, though she had felt the heat of his gaze on her face most of dinner last night.

The drive to Hollow’s Town blurred in a tunnel of green and lightening skies. Typically, Kazi would appreciate the watery streaks of orange and the tendrils of a blooming sun, but her mind was too focused elsewhere. Namely, on the fear choking her. 

As a child, her mother told her stories about shooting stars. The stories were all the same: When you wished upon a star, your wish would come true. It might take months, perhaps decades, but it would come true. 

Over the years, her wish remained the same. A wish for romantic companionship. It was a secret she shared with dying stars, and dying stars only. Daria used to tease her for her secrecy, but she didn’t care. Her wish was special.

As she matured, though, Kazi realized the foolishness of her wish. 

Solitude couldn’t hurt her. 

Companionship could ruin her.    

Because it would never last. 

And yet she yearned for it. She yearned for the intimacy of trust and emotional connection. She yearned for the vulnerability of private conversations, lingering looks, and quiet moments. She yearned for soft touches and held hands and comfort beneath sheets. 

She yearned for Wolffe in a way she didn’t deserve, and it scared her too, too much.

“Kazi?”

The voice startled her from both her spinning thoughts and aimless wandering and, straightening, she nodded at Fehr. The older woman was dressed in loose trousers and a long-sleeve work shirt, her hair braided in an elaborate crown atop her head. She appeared ready for a long day at her farm. But it was the knowing look in her sharp gaze—the scrutinous intrigue belying her insouciant expression—that disconcerted Kazi. 

“Early morning?” 

“Something like that,” Kazi said, surveying her current location and noting her position on the outskirts of the Square. 

Fehr glanced at the chrono on her wrist. “You can join me for breakfast.” 

Her unapologetic tone brokered no room for argument, and Kazi bit the inside of her cheek, silently berating herself for not being mindful of her surroundings. She exhaled a mirthless breath and followed her fellow rebel. 

Fifteen minutes later and they were sitting outside a local café, the sole eatery open this early in the morning. A basket of cinnamon bread and mugs of steaming chocolate mush littered their cozy table. Kazi let her gaze wander from Fehr to the distant sky. 

Since the Square sat on a hill, it provided a stunning display of Eluca’s orange sunrise, the clouds flickering flames of a fire. The top of the sun, dark yellow and demanding attention, had breached the horizon. 

Sipping from her drink, Kazi observed the few patrons of the morning. A weathered man stood beside his flower stall, a girl—most likely his granddaughter—was cutting the stalks of the bouquets she was preparing. Kazi returned her attention to Fehr. 

Months had passed since she last connected with Fehr or any of the rebels, outside of Carinthia. She hadn’t minded the distance and lack of communication. She still harbored a grudge against Fehr’s political maneuvering. 

Setting aside her mug, she breached the silence. “Is the network in need of something from me?” 

“No.” Fehr plopped a piece of cinnamon bread into her mouth, chewing pensively. “We can speak together outside of the network. I hope you’re aware of that.” 

Kazi lifted an eyebrow. “The network is the only thing that matters to you.”

“Your assessment is more accurate for Bash.” Fehr paused. “Possibly Carinthia.”

“But not you?” 

Fehr eyed her warily. “You think poorly of me, Kazi, and I don’t blame you. I took advantage of your circumstances and used them to benefit the network’s mission. I wouldn’t trust myself either.”

The honesty in her voice surprised Kazi and she studied Fehr closer. Assessed the wrinkles deepening her eyes and the heaviness dulling her silver eyes. 

“When I met you, I saw a young woman burdened by the Empire,” Fehr said quietly. “Your skills, while not truly exceptional in the grander scheme of the network, were good enough for us to use. I thought you would be enraged, and I wanted to channel your rage to the detriment of the Empire. I was wrong.”

Kazi clenched her mug. “What do you mean you were wrong?”

“You lacked the rage I wanted—”

“I was angry at the Empire. I still am,” she interrupted. Her left hand started to tremble and she fisted it in her lap. “Don’t think for one minute that I wasn’t affected by the Empire’s invasion of my planet—”

“You were upset, but you were too distracted by other things.” Fehr stared at her pointedly and Kazi pursed her lips. “I thought you would jump at the opportunity to infiltrate the Empire and secure the intel we needed. I thought you could become an essential spy. But you lacked the desire to do so, and I realized, belatedly, my analysis of your character was inaccurate.”

A waiter joined them on the patio, readjusting the floral vines decorating the front of the café. Kazi took the moment of silence to neutralize her expression and collect her thoughts. She hadn’t known the depth of Fehr’s planning—the expectations. Knowing the network wanted to hone her anger to their benefit unsettled her. 

The moment the waiter returned inside, Fehr leaned across the table. “The network has one goal: to defeat the Empire.”

“I’m aware,” Kazi deadpanned.

“You’re not aware of it all.” Fehr’s voice was sharp, full of warning. “Command is willing to do whatever is necessary to achieve their goal. They’re not bound by morals and ethics. They’re willing to damn themselves for their cause.”

It wasn’t news to Kazi, and yet the seriousness lining Fehr’s features—the way her eyes darted around the café, as if she feared someone was listening or watching—sent a shiver of unease down her spine. Surreptitiously, she reconsidered their surroundings, noting each person present.  

“Command believes in playing by the Empire’s rules,” Fehr said, “and they will sacrifice anyone.”

Disregarding the erratic falter of her heart, Kazi lounged back in her chair, forcing herself to appear detached. Unflappable. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you.” Fehr glanced at the street, her lips pressing together. “Don’t upset Command.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“What about the clones?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What of them?”

Fehr started to speak and then paused, her gaze sweeping across Kazi’s face. “The clones made demands during negotiations.”

“I was there.” 

“We renewed negotiations a month and a half ago. Bash, Carinthia, and me, along with the three commanders.”

She blinked her bewilderment. “Why?”

“They had certain demands and we felt you weren’t needed.” The woman seemed unsurprised by Kazi’s irritation, finishing her drink with an uncaring grace. She tilted her head to the side. “I wasn’t aware you had grown so close to them.”

Kazi chuckled bitterly. “Cohabitation will do that to people.”

“One of the clones’ demands was to release you from your work for the network.” Kazi dug her fingernails into her thigh, trying hard to hide her shock. It must not have worked because Fehr offered her a small, tired smile. “Bash struck it down but the clones were persistent. We came to an agreement: The work we requested of you would be vetted and approved by the clones first.”

Looking away, toward the black panther statue prowling the Square’s fountain, Kazi mulled the news, clamping down on her annoyance. Of course Wolffe would interfere without telling her. Of course he would ignore her requests to stay out of her business. 

“This angered Command,” Kazi assumed.

“Command doesn’t know the entirety of the story.” At her nonplussed frown, Fehr released a heavy sigh. “The network’s most recent actions have…bothered me.”

“Is that so?” She ran a finger along the side of her mug. “Have you realized they’ll sacrifice you for their cause? That they’ll do it without even hesitating?”

“I joined the network out of a self-righteous desire to save the galaxy,” Fehr said. “A year ago, the network was small and confined, dedicated to undermining the Empire. But we had morals—we had lines we wouldn’t cross.”

Kazi nodded in understanding. The beginnings of rebellions were always simple, numbered with people willing to make immediate sacrifice for the long term. But as weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, one thing became clear: You couldn’t win through morals and ethics. 

Most people never realized the true cost of rebellion. The cost of yourself. Because war—rebellion—required apathetic decision-making and a willingness to set aside personal ethics for a greater good. 

“I saw people hurting,” Fehr said. “And I was willing to do what was necessary to undermine the Empire. I didn’t question the actions of the new leadership.” She searched the Square once more and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “There are fanatics in the network. Bash is one of them. I will do what I can do to protect you and your family, but don’t cause trouble, Kazi, and tell the clones to lay low.”

The sheer vehemence in Fehr’s tone, her constant vigilance, unnerved Kazi. Unease slithered beneath her skin and she flattened her hands beneath her thighs to mask their shaking. “Is Bash going to reveal the men?”

“Their intel is too good to lose.” Fehr wrapped the remaining piece of cinnamon bread in a napkin. “So long as they remain necessary, they’re safe.”

All this time and Kazi hadn’t considered the precarity of the men’s situation with the network. And now, knowing Wolffe intervened—knowing the men were painting targets on their backs because of her—was both frustrating and disquieting. The network was her problem. Not theirs.

“Commander Wolffe seems…protective.” The comment drew her from her musings and Kazi tensed, throwing Fehr a bland look. Shrewd assessment narrowed the older woman’s gaze. “How are you getting along?”

“Fine,” Kazi remarked.

Fehr studied her for a long, quiet moment, her expression akin to sympathy. The woman chuckled and pushed herself to her feet, setting a handful of credits atop the table. 

“Solitude is a lovely thing,” Fehr said conversationally. “And more people should appreciate its beauty.” She levelled Kazi with a hard look. “Solitude feels safe and empowering. But spend too much time alone, and you’ll have to ask yourself: Is your solitude freeing, or is it lonely?”  

Frowning, Kazi eyed the woman before her.

Fehr smiled tightly. “I never opened myself to the possibility of being vulnerable with someone. Of loving someone. And I regret being so afraid.” 

Half an hour later, still seated alone at the bustling café’s table, Kazi searched the sunrise for an answer to a question she refused to ask herself. 

I regret being so afraid.

The phrase whispered in her ear like a haunting ghost. She hated the whisper; hated the hopelessness in the words; hated her understanding.

Kazi watched the arcing sun for a long time. 

“I can read to you.” The offer was out of her mouth before Kazi could consider its merit, and she winced, biting the inside of her cheek to mask her embarrassment.

Cuddling the stuffed animal Cody gifted her a week ago, Neyti looked up from the half-open book on her lap, surprise furrowing her eyebrows. 

It was later than usual, far past Neyti’s bedtime. But, since the men spent the late evening outside indulging in an expensive bourbon Fox had stolen from the last base they infiltrated, Kazi decided to make the night fun for Neyti, too. 

Together, she, Neyti, and Daria baked a cherry pie, and they enjoyed it while watching a holofilm Neyti chose. A popular film about a fox and a hound. One of Kazi’s favorites. 

Grinning, Neyti scooted to the edge of her bed and patted the vacated seat. Kazi chuckled her relief, settling into the pillows.

“Where do we start?” she asked. Neyti flipped the pages to the latter half of the book, and Kazi smiled, starting on the new story. “Once upon a time there was a princess.”

Five minutes later and Neyti was deep asleep, her stuffed whale cocooned between her arms. 

A bookmark placed for tomorrow night, Kazi pressed a light kiss to Neyti’s forehead, turned off the lights, and returned downstairs. 

The front door’s lock was checked. The living room and kitchen’s windows’ curtains were closed. The couch blanket was folded. Pillows were fluffed. From an open window in the sunroom, the hum of nocturnal bugs thrummed, and as Kazi started to pull the curtains together, she paused. 

The men were sparring. 

Shirtless, sweat slicking their skin beneath the moons’ light, Wolffe and Fox circled one another. The former sported a cut to his lip and the latter a bluing bruise on his cheek. Fox said something—a taunt based on Cody and Nova’s laughter—and Wolffe grinned, his teeth bloody. A sharp jab earned a harsh huff from Fox. 

Kazi shook her head, but she didn’t look away.

Chests heaving, the two men exchanged punches. A jab at Fox’s ribs turned into a punch at Wolffe’s stomach.

Blood trickled down Wolffe’s chin and he spat a wad of it into the ferns. It was a feint. And Fox fell for it. Wolffe threw him to the ground. Cody called the match.     

The men started for the house and, hastily, Kazi turned her attention to folding an already folded-blanket. The back door swung open. Wolffe and Fox moved to the partition separating the sunroom and living area. They both paused, standing together, their murmurs quiet. An effective barrier to her escape. 

Sighing her exasperation, Kazi straightened Wolffe’s puzzle, mindful of his color-coordinated piece groupings. Cody and Nova trudged into the house, bid her goodnight, and left. 

The sunroom was tidy—someone had recently cleaned, and it wasn’t her, which was confusing—and she glanced at Wolffe and Fox. Either noticing her stare or finished with their conversation, they broke apart. Fox clapped Wolffe on the shoulder, winked at Kazi, and then followed his two other brothers.

Kazi and Wolffe were alone. 

It wasn’t a novel situation; they spent lots of time alone, considering their morning routines overlapped. But something about tonight—something about the calculation in Wolffe’s gaze—made her well aware of their aloneness. 

Wolffe approached her, the top clasps of his shirt unfastened and his sleeves carelessly rolled to his elbows. His lip was slightly swollen; a hint of blood darkened the corner of his mouth. Nighttime shadows complemented his appearance, emphasizing the strength of his jaw and the black of his hair, caressing the veins of his forearms and the muscles in his neck. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Wolffe said. 

The warmth of his voice told her he was teasing, and a smile tugged at her mouth, the urge more common these days. She rubbed her arm, awkwardly trying to scrub away the truth. The truth that he made her smile.

“I haven’t planted the seeds you gave me.” She angled her chin to the packet sitting on the game table beside his puzzle. The packet she had brought downstairs before the holofilm. “I wasn’t sure if they had specific instructions, and I didn’t want—”

“I can show you.” Wolffe closed the distance between them. The beginning of a smirk revealed itself. “I’ll go slow for you.”

“How magnanimous.” She rolled her eyes to hide her amusement. 

Apparently Wolffe had been waiting for her request because he was quick to retrieve a large black pot from the garage. A pot he purchased weeks ago. It was large enough to house a lissome tree, and heavy enough he grunted from exertion as he set it beside a window. 

Kazi stood back, shifting between her feet, wanting to help but not wanting to get in his way. Wolffe left a second time and returned with a nine-kilogram bag. 

“It protects against disease,” he said, noticing her subtle attempt to read the fertilizer’s package. “This plant isn’t native. And it struggles to survive outside its home planet. The fertilizer should strengthen it.”

Bemused by the plant’s history, Kazi considered the tiny seeds in her palm. “What is it?” 

Wolffe ignored her question, and she decided not to press him, sprinkling the seeds into the soil. Together, they buried the seeds. The soil was cool to her hands, drier than Eluca’s natural soil and it smelt familiar—

A flash of lightning splintered the black sky. Thunder roared, a lulling echo across the jungle’s hills. 

Chilled dirt clumped her palms and Kazi sat back on her haunches, wiping her hands clean with a rag Wolffe tossed her. She watched him clean his own hands. “When were you going to tell me about your deal with the network?”

His shoulders grew rigid; annoyance clenched in his jaw. Wary eyes met hers. “Who told you?”

“That was dangerous,” she said, bypassing his question. “You now have targets on your backs—”

“It’s not your concern.” Wolffe continued to wipe his hands on the dirty rag. “We knew the risks. The reward outweighed them.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you interfere?” She frowned at him. “You don’t owe us anything. You shouldn’t risk your lives for us.”

Slowly, Wolffe folded the rag and set it atop the table, levelling the full weight of his gaze on her. His expression was unapologetic. Unflinching. “Why do you think I did it?”

“I don’t know.” She curled her fingers into the brim of the pot, trying to steady the increasing beat of her heart. She didn’t want to assume things—she refused to assume things. “I don’t…”

“You’re intelligent, Ennari. You’re a brilliant analyst.” Wolffe ran his tongue along his teeth. “And yet you’re fucking oblivious”—he shook his head—“Never mind.”

Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair and pushed himself to his feet, leaving her alone. The sound of the kitchen sink drifted to the sunroom.

Kazi moved to the windows. Loosening her braids and slipping the ties into a pocket, she watched the electric storm outside. Flashes of lightning burst; the clouds they hid behind glowed eerily. 

It seemed nature roiled with its emotions. Kazi could relate. 

Soft footfalls alerted her to Wolffe’s return. 

The silence between them hesitated, teetering with unspoken confessions. 

Wolffe stood close enough their arms brushed. The back of his hand grazed hers.

“We had storms like this. On Kamino,” he said quietly. “When I was young, I thought the waves would swallow our building and we’d drown. I woke up early every morning to practice my swimming in case it happened.”

“Always so prepared,” she murmured.

“I like to be.” He rolled his shoulders back. “I don’t like to enter a situation without knowing my advantages and my opponent’s strengths. I assess the complications and calculate the risk and reward. Only then do I make a decision.”

Another flicker of lightning seared the sky but her eyes remained on Wolffe.    

“I don’t want to pretend anymore.” Tentatively, he lifted a hand to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to pretend I’m not interested in you.”

Her hands started to tremble.  

“I want to try things,” he said.  

His tone was resolute in his decision, but she detected a modicum of vulnerability. A hint of fear.

Cottony panic suffocated her lungs. 

Yearning, soft as an embrace yet insistent as a kiss, urged her forward. 

But she couldn’t move. 

Such cold, teeth-aching fear swallowed her, a creature of dark pits latched onto her ankle and dragging her far, far below. She looked away, out the window at the harshening lightning.

Because she couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze. The unspoken desires. The gentle promises. 

“Look at me.”

Her heart cowered in her chest and she shook her head. She wasn’t meant for the softness in his voice, the longing in his eyes. 

She was meant to be alone. Solitude couldn’t hurt her. 

Solitude would never abandon her.

“Look at me.”

His tone was harder yet still gentle, like a steadying hand on an elbow. No longer a request, it was a command. An order. 

But to look him in the eye would quiet her doubts and unleash the yearning she was struggling to withhold. It was escaping, a rope burning her palms as the control of her head gave way to the want of her heart.

She was scared. She was so fucking scared.

“Kazi.” He said her name like it was a question and an answer; he said it in such a soft, intimate way she wanted to run far, far away. 

Two fingers tilted her chin back and forced her to meet his gaze. His thumb slid along her jaw and she shivered.

“You’re overthinking things,” Wolffe said calmly. He cupped her face, his thumb grazing her cheekbone. The expression on his face was steady. An anchor for the worst of a storm. “Trust me with this.”

“I don’t know how to,” she whispered.

“I know.” Softly, a hand palmed her waist and Wolffe lowered his face to hers. “But I’ve got you.”

“You don’t want this.”

He released a hoarse scoff. “You have no idea what I want.”

Their lips brushed, the barest of a grazing, and Kazi angled her head back, wanting more yet withholding herself. Wolffe paused. A mere hairsbreadth separated their faces, and she leaned forward, just enough their lips touched, her lashes fluttering as she sighed. 

An unspoken permission; an unspoken request. 

Wolffe moved, his mouth skimming hers. He pulled back a fraction. Their eyes met, and he closed the distance, seeking her, his upper lip embracing her cupid’s bow. 

He was soft, chaste in his intent. 

Warmth flushed her cheeks, honeyed and thick, and, gods, she wanted more. Needed more. She reached for his bicep, squeezing him, feeling the sheer corporeality of him. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, and Wolffe gripped her waist harder, his fingers slipping beneath her sweater. They were coarse against the skin of her lower back, exploring her spine, touching and grasping and desperate. 

Desire quivered through her body and she snagged his belt. Pulled him closer. Pulled him flush to her body.

Wolffe released a low groan that had her nipples tingling. The restraint he exercised—the control of his kiss, the careful patience in his touches—snapped. He kissed her harder, and Kazi clung to the back of his neck, silently begging for him to stay. To not let go. To taste her and pleasure her and know her.

The hand on her cheek drifted beneath her jaw, hooking. Gentle possessiveness flexed in his fingers. Wolffe teased the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips, his tongue brushing hers, light and cautious, a playful plea to indulge. So she did, flicking the tip of her tongue to his. 

At her gasp for air, Wolffe moved lower, kissing beneath her jaw, trailing light touches down her neck while guiding her backwards. Her back hit the windows and she tilted her head back, sighing at the ardent press of his mouth to her throat. He reached her collarbone and sucked on her skin, sucked and bit. 

Heat thrummed in her blood; her breasts were heavy, tight with need. She played with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shuddering and gasping as Wolffe sucked on the joint between her neck and shoulder. Desperation groaned against her skin and Wolffe pressed her fully against the window, the hand on her neck trembling. 

Their breaths were heavy when Wolffe leaned back, just enough to stare her in the eye. Darkened desire, near feral in its intent, contrasted the gentle brush of his thumb beneath her jaw. 

Wolffe kissed her again. Slower, deeper. She could feel him smiling against her lips, and her own smile answered in return.

With each of his kisses, with each curious, slow stroke of their tongues, Kazi wanted more. She wanted to feel him—to feel his skin against hers, to feel the shiver in his muscles as she touched him, to feel the heat of his body consuming her. She wanted his naked body pressed to hers, his arms around her and his legs entangled with hers until their bodies were inseparable. 

She wanted all of him, and it was so, so wrong of her. 

Nestling a palm between the unbuttoned clasps of his shirt, Kazi flattened her hand to Wolffe’s chest. Heated skin licked at her fingers. The rapid beat of his heart kissed her palm.

Even though the touch was minimal, Wolffe moaned a ragged “Fuck.” 

The rasp of his voice was hoarse and he ground his hips into her stomach. He was hard, and the feel of him—the reminder of what they were doing—made her pull away. Wolffe lowered his gaze to the spot where he was grinding against her. His breaths were uneven, and he slotted a thigh between her legs, pressed it against her—

“Oh.” A jolt of pleasure, sharp and acute, ached between her legs and Kazi smacked the back of her head against the window. 

“Ah, fuck.” Wolffe moved his thigh against her, his eyes half-hooded. “I’ve wanted—”

He cut himself off and kissed her. Kissed her with such need she was lost in him. Lost to his touches and unspoken demands for her attention. 

The steady pressure of his thigh rubbed her harder. She moaned against his mouth, rolling her hips against him, seeking the relief he was providing. Uncontrollable thrusts rolled into her stomach and she slid her hand between their bodies, squeezing his cock. 

“Fuck,” Wolffe hissed, jerking into her palm. 

She watched him, watched the bob in his throat and the way his lashes fluttered, as she squeezed him harder. His groan, strained and pained, made her smile. 

Distantly, she wondered if she got him off now, maybe he wouldn’t want to have sex. Maybe this would be enough for him, and then tomorrow, when she was thinking clearer, she could figure out what the fuck she was doing. Because the thought of sex—

Wolffe grabbed her wrist, pulling her away from his cock. She frowned at him.

“Will you…” He searched her face, swallowing. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he cleared his throat, inhaling a harsh breath. A subtle guardedness sharpened his eyes. “Will you regret this tomorrow?”

“No,” she said. And it was the truth—she could never regret him. “Will you?”

A small, sad smile curved his mouth.

“Never,” he murmured. “Never, Kazi.”

He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands clinging to her waist like he feared she might try to run. 

It was late and she was tired and she wasn’t thinking, but she wanted him because it was only him she trusted; and she was so desperate for him to see her and choose her; and she needed to know that maybe she wasn’t so unlovable. That maybe this man she yearned for perhaps yearned a little for her too. 

So she closed her eyes and, just for this moment, allowed herself to rest in the secure warmth of his presence, her hand still flattened to his chest. The beat of his heart caressed her palm, like the echo of a promise to his words. 

Soon, though, Wolffe tensed beneath her hands, pulling his forehead from hers. He looked over his shoulder, his head cocked to the side, and then he straightened. A muscle flexed in his jaw and he glanced her over, adjusting her shirt, flattening a few pieces of her hair. 

Understanding his intent, she buttoned his shirt. He hastily adjusted himself. They stepped apart just as Cody stalked into the room. Fox and Nova followed, the former glancing between her and Wolffe, suspicion furrowing his brows.

Tension radiated from the three men as palpable as Eluca’s humidity. Clenched jaws. Squared shoulders. Narrowed eyes. 

Their unease made Kazi stiffen; her stomach coiled with apprehension. 

“What happened,” Wolffe demanded.

“Just received an alert from Rex.” Disappointment hardened Cody’s voice and he nodded at the window. “See for yourself.”

Fisting her hands to hide their trembling, Kazi looked outside. Her heart stumbled to a halt. 

For outside, bracketed by brilliant flashes of lightning, hung a Star Destroyer.

The Empire had arrived.

Masterlist | A Muse | Chapter 17

[alessauryo]

My oc Floury!! He's a silly plushie

[machamars]

Sharing my genshin impact OC

Name: Zephyr

Region: Mondasdt

Vision: anemo

Weapon: catalyst

Lore: okay so zephyr comes from a long line of bakers and always aspired to be one herself and would help around her parents’ bakery even as a small child and you could see her running around covered in flour and sugar, in her free time she would play under the trees spending her time chasing the wind which she believed would whisper to her stories of freedom which fueled her ambitions, however one night a brutal storm over took their city and it almost ruined her family’s bakery which had existed for generations but zephyr wasn’t going to let that happen and she wanted to protect her loved ones while she was trying to protect her village she got her anemo vision fueled by her determination and it shielded her bakery from the destruction in the aftermath despite being praised by her other villagers she remained humble and focused on her skills as a baker, as the years passed she would continue to work at her parents bakery and once she was old enough they passed it down to her

Personality: Zephyr is energetic and happy go lucky and always has a contagious smile, she always believes that as long as you have good food and good friends you should be happy with your life, while she can be a bit of an airhead sometimes and is almost always covered in flour she’s still extremely dedicated to her craft

Weapon: Her catalyst is an enchanted recipe book that floats beside her, constantly flipping its pages and stirring ingredients with the wind flour, sugar, and other baking tools float playfully around her as she moves, and when she casts her abilities, small floury whirlwinds form around her feet

Normal Attack:Zephyr conjures wind-enhanced baking tools with each attack, sending small gusts of wind and flour towards enemies.

1st Attack: A gust of wind mixed with flour blows toward the enemy, dealing Anemo damage.

2nd Attack: Zephyr sends out a swirling pastry cutter in the form of wind, which spins toward enemies.

3rd Attack: A blast of wind infused with dough hits multiple enemies, briefly slowing them.

4th Attack: A whirling flurry of flour spreads out in front of Zephyr, knocking back enemies and dealing Anemo damage.

Charged Attack:

Zephyr channels wind and flour into a swirling cyclone that shoots forward, dealing continuous Anemo damage and knocking enemies backward. The dough leaves a sticky residue, slowing enemies' movement for a short period.

Elemental Skill:

Zephyr tosses an enchanted loaf of bread into the air, which quickly rises thanks to the power of the wind. Upon reaching its peak, the bread explodes into a burst of wind, dealing AoE Anemo damage and knocking enemies back. The wind lingers, creating a small vortex that pulls in nearby enemies for a brief duration.

Press: Zephyr quickly creates a small loaf, causing a brief gust of wind that knocks back enemies in a small AoE.

Hold: Zephyr holds the skill to create a larger loaf, causing a more powerful gust that pulls enemies in before exploding, dealing additional Anemo damage.

Elemental Burst:

Zephyr channels the full force of her Anemo vision, summoning a massive tornado of flour, sugar, and pastries. The tornado pulls in enemies, dealing continuous Anemo damage over time. As the storm intensifies, small pastry-themed explosions occur, dealing AoE Anemo damage in the surrounding area.

At the end of the burst, the tornado disperses, leaving behind a sweet-smelling breeze that grants Zephyr and her allies increased movement speed and Anemo resistance for a short duration.

Idle animation: Zephyr conjures her floating whisk, which hovers beside her, spinning gently. She tilts her head and observes the whisk for a moment, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. With a wave of her hand, she sends a light Anemo breeze toward it, causing it to spin faster, creating a soft wind current around her. A few sparkles of sugar and flour float in the air as she laughs, amused by the playful whirlwind.

Zephyr pulls out a small pastry from her apron pocket a fluffy, wind infused bun. She inspects it carefully, holding it up to the light with a smile, before taking a small, satisfied bite. As she chews, a tiny gust of wind gently flutters around her hair and clothes, giving her an airy, carefree appearance. She giggles as the wind playfully scatters a bit of leftover flour off her apron.

When you first get her: Hey there! I’m Zephyr, Mondstadt’s best baker and wind whisperer! Let’s whip up something sweet together and blow away any troubles that come our way!

Idle 1: Hmm... do you think anyone would notice if I baked a quick batch of cookies right now? The dough’s already ready!

Idle 2: Oh, look at that! The wind’s playing with the flour again... Guess I’ll be cleaning that up later!

Idle 3: *Hums a cheerful tune* "There’s nothing better than a happy kitchen filled with sweet smells, don’t you think?

When it rains: Oh no, the dough is going to get all soggy! Let’s find cover, fast!

When thunder strikes: Whoa, thunder! We should hurry inside before it scares off all the customers.

When it snows: Brr, it’s cold! Perfect weather for warm pastries fresh from the oven, don’t you think?

When the sun is out: Look at that sunshine! Perfect day to open up the bakery and spread some joy!

Good morning: Morning! The bakery is already open, and the first batch of bread is ready. Want to be my taste tester?

Good afternoon: Hey, still going strong? How about a snack to keep the energy up?

Good evening: Evening already? Time to start making tomorrow’s dough. Feel free to lend a hand!

Good night: Goodnight! May your dreams be as sweet as freshly baked cookies.

About Zephyr:her mindset: People say my smile can brighten any day. Well, I just believe a little joy and some good food can fix almost anything!

About Zephyr: about her bakery: Running a bakery may seem simple, but when a storm strikes or you’ve got flour everywhere, it’s a whirlwind of fun! I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

About Us: opportunities: With you around, it feels like every adventure is an opportunity to share something sweet. We make a good team, like the perfect recipe!

About us:baking adventures: Baking is a lot like adventuring sometimes things don’t go as planned, but with you, I know we’ll always come out on top... even if we end up covered in flour!

About the Vision: My anemo vision came to me in the middle of a storm, just when I needed it most. Now, it’s like the wind helps me create little gusts of happiness for everyone!

Something to Share: new recipe: I once tried adding sugar to flour before mixing, and the wind scattered it everywhere. Now the whole bakery’s still a bit sparkly! Oops...

Something to Share :sharing recipes: Ever try baking cookies with the wind at your back? It’s a rush! Though sometimes I end up with more flour on me than in the dough.

About Venti: Venti? Oh, he’s always so carefree, like a warm breeze. I bet he’d love my apple tarts! They’re as light and playful as his songs.

About Jean: Jean works so hard, doesn’t she? I’d love to bake her something special one day. She deserves a sweet break!

About Barbara: Barbara’s voice is so beautiful and soothing, it’s like honey on a fresh bun. I’d love to bake with her someday!

About Kaeya: Kaeya, hmm? He’s as smooth as my best buttercream... but sometimes, I think there’s a storm underneath all that charm.

About Klee: Klee’s got such a fiery spirit! She even helped me toast some marshmallows once. Just... maybe keep her away from the ovens.

About Diluc: Diluc’s a bit serious, but he’s passionate about what he does. I wonder if he’d let me bake something to pair with his wine...

About Sucrose: Sucrose? She’s a genius with potions! I wonder if she could help me find the perfect leavening agent. An alchemy of flavors!

About Lisa: Lisa’s knowledge of herbs is amazing! I’ve been experimenting with some of her teas in my pastries and I have to say they’re absolutely delicious!

About Albedo: Albedo’s like the perfect baker calm, precise, and always experimenting. I wonder if he’d share some of his secrets with me!

About Noelle: Noelle’s so dependable! I once saw her carry ten bags of flour like it was nothing! We’d make a great team in the bakery.

About Razor: Razor? Oh, he’s wild and free, like the wind! I bet he’d appreciate the simple things, like a warm loaf of bread after a hunt.

More About Zephyr 1: I always try to make sure there’s enough bread to share with anyone who passes by. Good food should be for everyone!

More About Zephyr 2: My favorite kind of days? When the wind is just right, and the whole bakery smells like freshly baked treats.

More About Zephyr 3: There’s something special about mixing ingredients and watching them rise into something delicious. It’s like magic, but tastier!

More About Zephyr 4: Even when things get tough, a little laughter and a good snack can brighten things up. It’s my secret recipe!

More About Zephyr 5: People say I’m always in a good mood. Well, when you’ve got flour in your hair and a kitchen full of sweets, it’s hard not to be!

Her Hobbies: When I’m not baking, I love exploring Mondstadt’s markets. There’s always something new to try! Ooh, and I like experimenting with recipes using local ingredients.

Least Favorite Food: Hmmm, raw onions... nope! They’re too sharp and make me cry. I’ll stick to sweeter flavors, thanks!

Favorite Food: Oh, cinnamon rolls, definitely! The way they smell when they’re baking? It’s like a warm hug!

Receiving Food She Likes: Ooh, you brought this for me? That’s so sweet! I can’t wait to try it!

Receiving a Dish: hehe I didn’t know you could bake if I didn’t know any better I’d say I’ve been inspiring you!

Food She Doesn’t Like: Hmm, thanks, but this just isn’t my taste. Maybe I could turn it into something better with a bit of flour and sugar?

Happy Birthday: Happy Birthday! I baked something extra special just for you! Birthdays deserve the best, and today, you get all the sweetness in the world! Let’s celebrate with a feast, okay?

Ascension Intro: I can feel it... something stirring, like the wind picking up before a storm."

Ascension Build up: The gusts are growing stronger, swirling with possibility... I can’t wait to see what comes next!

Ascension Climax: Ahh, it’s like a breath of fresh air! I can feel the winds lifting me higher, carrying me toward new heights!

Ascension Conclusion:This... this is incredible! With this strength, I’ll be able to spread even more joy, like a gentle breeze filling every corner of Mondstadt!"

Elemental Skill 1: Whisk away!

Elemental Skill 2: Wind in the whisk!

Elemental Skill 3: A dash of air, and we’re set!

Elemental Skill 4: Batter up!

Elemental Skill 5: Let’s add a pinch of power!

Elemental Skill 6: Whip it up, quick!

Elemental Burst 1: Time to whip up a storm!

Elemental Burst 2: A whirlwind of sweetness!

Elemental Burst 3: Catch the breeze!

Opening Chest 1: Oooh, a little treat!

Opening Chest 2: Look at this like finding the last cookie in the jar!

Opening Chest 3: I wonder if there’s a recipe in here!

Low HP 1: Ugh... just need to catch my breath...

Low HP 2: W-Whoa, I’m feeling a bit light-headed!

Low HP 3: Oof, I might need a snack...

Ally at Low HP 1: Hey, hang in there! I’ll bake something up to help!

Ally at Low HP 2: Don't worry, I’ve got you covered!

Fallen 1: No... I still need to finish the recipe...

Fallen 2: Sorry... I’m out of flour..."

Fallen 3: The wind’s gone still...

Light Hit Taken: A little breeze... nothing I can’t handle!

Heavy Hit Taken 1: That one... stung

Heavy Hit Taken 2: Oof, that knocked the air right out of me!

Joining Party 1: Ready to whisk us into something fun!

Joining Party 2: Hey hey! Need a baker with some breeze?

Joining Party 3: Let’s make this adventure a real treat!

About Zehpyr(Venti): Her bakery always smells so good! It’s like the wind itself carries her treats across Mondstadt. Makes me feel nostalgic... or maybe that’s just the hunger talking.

About Zephyr(Jean): Zephyr’s bakery is a cornerstone of Mondstadt. Her dedication to her craft and her family’s legacy is admirable. I make sure to stop by whenever I can to support her business.

About Zephyr(Barbara): Zephyr? Oh! I love her bakery! Her pastries are so fluffy, like clouds in the sky. Whenever I’m having a tough day, her treats always make things better.

About Zephyr(Kaeya): Zephyr, you say? Ah, the sweet scent of her pastries often lingers in the air, even when I’m far from the bakery. She’s got a carefree charm that’s quite endearing, don’t you think?

About Zephyr(Klee): Zephyr is the best! Her bread is soooo good! I wanna learn how to make it explode with flavor... but without blowing up the whole bakery this time. Hehe!

About Zephyr(Diluc): Her bakery is one of the few places I’ll visit in Mondstadt for personal reasons. She takes her work seriously, and that’s something I respect.

About Zephyr(Sucrose): Zephyr’s bakery has always been a favorite stop for me on quiet mornings. The way she uses wind in her craft is fascinating! I wonder if there’s a scientific explanation behind it.

About Zephyr(Lisa): I wouldn’t mind spending a lazy afternoon in her bakery, sipping tea with a fresh pastry. She’s a breath of fresh air in more ways than one.

About Zephyr(Albedo): I’ve tried analyzing the ingredients in her pastries... there’s something more to them, perhaps a touch of the wind itself. Fascinating, isn’t it?

About Zephyr(Noelle): Miss Zephyr’s bakery is so wonderful! Whenever I’m on break, I stop by for a quick bite. She always greets me with a smile, even if she’s busy

About Zephyr(Razor): She is kind. Gave me bread when I was hungry. Said I can come back anytime. I like that.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found - 10

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 5.1k

a/n: thanks for waiting! I normally post in the mornings but life happened and this is also a super important chapter (lol, they all are) that I needed to make sure was prepared to launch us into phase 3. (yesss, there are phases!) as always, thanks for reading, and let me know how it went!!

Chapter 10. Blue & Grey

series masterlist

Yuri steps into the back a moment later, coming to lean up against the counter beside me as I struggle to free myself from Taehyung’s gaze. In the span of a single blink, his eyes soften and he’s wearing a pleasant expression as Yuri begins to speak.

“You said you wanted to talk about something important with me?” Yuri urges, looking a little worried yet elated to have such prominent figures in her small bread shop. Namjoon nods hastily, sparing me a glance.

“Yes, thanks for seeing us. We know that this is a little...strange, perhaps. But we wanted to make sure everything was settled before things can get out of hand.”

Of course, my heart begins to race a little more. “What do you mean, ‘get out of hand’?”

For all the world, Taehyung looks like he’s ready to answer me, but Namjoon responds before he can get a chance. “Yuri, I’m assuming that you’re aware of Jolie’s, erm...accident.”

“Oh, of course,” she offers me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand what that has to do with anything you’re here for.”

Namjoon and Taehyung share a look before turning back to Yuri and I. Clinging to my apron which I have yet to remove, I pray that they can’t see the slight tremor in my hands. A thought passes through my mind, completely unbidden and foreign. Before I’m able to stop myself, the words dive off my tongue.

“Is...is he alright?”

Taehyung’s gaze snaps to me, brows furrowing as he looks genuinely confused. Namjoon, however, takes in my white knuckles and hunched shoulders, and gently smiles.

Before Namjoon can reassure me, however, Taehyung jumps in. “He’s fine. We’re here to discuss other things, however.”

The way that Namjoon doesn’t say anything to cross Taehyung has me realizing that while he may be the leader, this is a completely different ballgame.

It’s me, Jimin’s disgraced soulmate, against Taehyung, his proclaimed soulmate.

I know a losing game when I see one.

“Right. Yuri, we’ve got to discuss some sensitive information with you today. Would you be willing to sign an NDA?” Namjoon steers us back on course, even as Yuri glances back and forth between Taehyung and I.

“Oh. Y-yes, of course.”

Clapping his hands together, Namjoon dives right in. “Perfect. Well, I would like to discuss a few things with you. Taehyung-”

“Yep.” Without leaving me an opportunity to ask questions, Taehyung is coming to stand before me. “While Namjoon is explaining some things to your boss, we’re going to have a chat.”

Glancing over at Namjoon, who is leading Yuri to one corner of the large room, near the storage area, I receive no mercy. When I turn to look back at Taehyung, I catch him staring down at my thread with a faraway look in his eyes.

Needing to have something to keep me going while I receive what I’m sure is going to be a royal chewing out, I turn to head over to the worktable.

“You talk, I’ll knead.”

✂

I’ve learned something about Taehyung in the past few minutes.

He doesn’t hate me as much as he would like for me to think he does.

It was quiet for a long moment as I sprinkled flour over the worktable and pulled out a slab of dough I had been planning to let some of the other employees use later on in the day. With my heart in my throat, I began to beat it into shape. For about a minute, the only sound in the workroom was the sound of the dough against the table and Namjoon’s hushed conversation with Yuri.

Taehyung sidles next to me, the silence suddenly becoming blaringly loud as he watches my hands. Over and over again, I roll the dough. Once it’s sufficiently loose and pliable, I begin to shape it.

“So this is your job?”

He can’t keep the curious tone out of his voice, and I glance over at him to see his wide eyes flitting between me and the dough. Almost as though he can’t quite believe it.

“What did you think I did?” I ask, not able to refrain from my sarcastic streak. “Buried bodies?”

Just like that, whatever angry storm clouds were lingering in his eyes dissipate and he laughs. Laughs loud enough that both Namjoon and Yuri pause in their conversation before continuing.

“Honestly,” he confesses, “something like that. Yeah.”

I snort, returning to the dough. “Nice.”

“Do you think you can teach me?”

“How to bake bread?” I ask, curious at his change in attitude. I see him nod in my peripheral.

“Yeah. I think it looks amazing. Very therapeutic.” He pauses, and I can almost see the thought bubble hovering over his head. “We have a pretty big table at the house, you could probably use it. Or does it have to be a certain material?”

A part of me freezes under the nonchalant mention of the house he shares with my soulmate. The way he’s testing the waters, assessing me for any kind of reaction.

Another thing that I’m learning about Kim Taehyung: he picks up on everything.

“Er...what kind of table is it? Like, is it a countertop or-”

“Oh, yeah. The big one is the kitchen island. It’s a granite countertop I think...Namjoon hyung!”

There’s no need to yell, but he does anyway.

“What?” Namjoon asks, bewildered but used to this kind of behavior.

Taehyung turns back to me, shrugging. “It probably is. Would that work?”

I blink, wondering if it’s ok for me to laugh at what just happened. Shouldering through it, I focus on the dough again. “Yeah, granite’s great for dough.”

Taehyung looks lost in thought, but I’m starting to realize that I should always be on my toes around him. Indeed, he recovers quickly and decides to finally discuss what he came here to talk about.

“I’m assuming your boss doesn’t know what really happened,” he states quietly enough that there’s no way Yuri can hear him from across the room. A simple shake of my head is all it takes to confirm what he said. Glancing around the room, he notices the back door.

“I think it might be best if we step out back for a moment.” Taehyung takes a step toward the door before stopping to look back at me where I stand with the dough still in my hands. “Unless you need to finish that first…?”

I shake my head, pushing the dough back into a metal bowl and covering it up with a cloth. Wiping my floury hands on my apron, I follow Taehyung to the back alleyway. The sun is nearing the highest point in the sky, bearing down on us and filling my bones up with a little warmth despite the general chill in the air.

Taehyung makes his way to the opposite wall of the alley, looking around as though checking for spies before facing me. There’s no need for me to question him as to what’s going on, he can see the question clearly in my eyes.

“We have a Muster coming up in less than two days,” he begins, crossing his arms. “Jimin is going to perform on stage for the final song.”

It takes a moment for me to fully understand what that means.

“They’ll see what happened,” Taehyung continues, watching my every movement. “And I think it’ll be all too easy for people to see you and instantly accuse you. Which, they won’t be wrong. But still, it could get ugly.”

I know what he’s implying. Suddenly life will become a burning hell for the scarce few that have a severed thread. Which, by my understanding, is no more than a handful.

Immediately my thoughts go to Christina. “What about those people that have nothing to do with it but could be accused?” It would be devastating for her to think that she’d been the one to bring Jimin so much pain.

Taehyung tilts his head to one side. “You keep surprising me.” Before I can ask what he means, he continues. “That’s what we’re here for today. In order to protect those people and you, Bighit has to come up with some sort of cover story. Make it really seem like an accident. We just need to keep you out of sight while things get straightened out.”

Dread, cold as ice as just as sharp, sluices through my veins. “No.”

I can tell that this, at least, Taehyung was expecting. “You don’t have a choice-”

“So you want me to hide away forever?” I hiss, rocking back on my heels. “People will find out soon enough. And they’ll rip me to shreds!”

That cold fire from before is back and blazing in Taehyung’s eyes as he listens to my objections. “No! They won’t, that’s the whole point. They’ll understand that it was an accident-”

“Which they’ll immediately want to fix!” I shout, the sound echoing down the alleyway. “You don’t understand, no matter what you tell people, this ends up with me being forced right back where I was before.”

“And where was that?” Taehyung seethes, taking a step forward and making me stumble back. Those hawk-like eyes see how I react, but there’s no pity in them. “How horrible for you to be stuck with someone that would only love you. That would never ask for anything in return. That just wanted - wants still - nothing more than to be linked to you in any way possible.”

The confession falls flat in the face of my fear, however it’s something I know will come back to haunt me later. Instead, I allow my roaring emotions to take over even as I find that my back is now pressed against the wall.

“Of course I want that!” I shout, and Taehyung blinks. “Of course I want him! Did you want me to go to your house and grovel at his feet for forgiveness, and then teach you how to bake bread like some big happy family? Did you want me to tell you all about how the first and last thing I think about every day is Park Jimin and how I know the perfect way to hate myself for cutting this?” Throwing my hand up into the air I bite down the sobs that try to surface. “I sat and watched this thread burn not because I didn’t want him, but because I had to remove myself from his life before I could enter it.”

I can see the objection brewing in Taehyung’s mind, but I stop him.

“Jimin is not the problem,” I sigh out, utterly exhausted. “He became everything to me the second I saw him, but he is everything to everyone. I...I can’t be that. I don’t think I ever can.”

Taehyung’s eyes clear, and he looks down at me with sudden understanding. I want to lash out, writhe under that understanding, but I can’t stop the way his thoughts seemingly click together.

“I- Jolie, you’re not a puzzle that’s missing a piece. You don’t have to suddenly click into a pattern that everyone else has. You’re a human being,” Taehyung says reverently, and I wonder for a moment if someone has said this to him before. “You are allowed to just bake bread for the rest of your life, if you want. Nobody is going to ask you to stand on the stage, not even Jimin.”

“But I feel like I shouldn’t keep doing the same thing if I’m with him. I have to be more, somehow.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Taehyung admits. “Just because you’re allowed to be comfortable and hide away doesn’t mean you should. It’s tempting, I’ll give you that much.” He shrugs, still looking at me with that new light. “But you’re allowed to learn at your own pace, venture out of your comfort zone when you feel brave enough to do it. Just know this: most people never feel brave enough but do it anyway.”

“Why?”

Holding up his left hand where his deep red thread extends to the ground and through the back door, he smiles softly. “We deem the risk worth it, in the end.”

I’m just processing the fact that I had a screaming match with Taehyung when Namjoon pokes his head out into the alleyway. Both Taehyung and I turn to face him, looking guilty.

“I told you that I’d have to end up explaining everything,” he remarks drily. “Did you two manage to discuss the plan?”

Somehow, as Taehyung and I sheepishly shake our heads, I feel like I’ve made an ally in an enemy.

✂

Jolie (Elle): This is me telling you that I’m still alive, as you requested.

Me: Wow. That bad of a day? Are you going to take a nap?

Jolie (Elle): Literally as soon as I get home. I have to stop by the store and grab some cat food, Elle nearly murdered me in my sleep over it last night.

Me: I can literally feel your exhaustion through the phone.

Me: Was work ok??

Jimin has to wait a little while for a response. He just got a text from Namjoon, notifying him that they were headed to the Bighit building. When he asked him how it went with Jolie, he’d only received a vague answer.

It did nothing to calm his nerves. Especially knowing that Taehyung, even though he’d promised him that he’d stay calm, had gone in there with no shortage of wrath.

Jolie (Elle): Fine

He’d been afraid of that.

Me: 😟

Me: I’m so sorry, sounds like today has officially sucked

Jimin stares down at his phone, waiting for some sort of response.

Jolie (Elle): No need to apologize.

Jolie (Elle): It was my fault anyways.

“No,” Jimin whispers to himself, eyes wide as his fingers fly across the screen. Before he can even think about the message, he sends it. All he wants is to stop this ache in his chest that he’s sure Jolie feels as well.

Me: I wish I was there.

Three little dots appear on his screen, Jolie typing a message, but then they disappear. A moment later, they come back and a message follows.

Jolie (Elle): It’s fine, really. Texting is enough, I really appreciate it

The butterflies that erupt in Jimin’s stomach are enough to make a grown man cry, but he knows deep down that a text is not enough. Bringing his phone to his ear, he listens to the ringing. Taehyung and Namjoon walk through the door of the practice room right as Jimin begins to speak.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order.”

✂

There’s something on my porch.

I noticed the little pop of color as I began up the stairs to my apartment, carrying a grocery bag with catnip and a bar of chocolate, my excuse for a pickmeup. It wasn’t until I made it to the top of the stairs that I realized what it was that was waiting for me.

A bouquet of flowers. Hydrangeas, white and pink hydrangeas are waiting for me. They have a dewy shimmer to them, catching the sunlight just right.

Obviously, this is a mistake.

“Elle, look at these,” I coo as I shoulder open the door. Immediately the white cat appears, sniffing at the bag filled with catnip rather than the flowers. “Nooo, not that. The flowers.”

She doesn’t care about the flowers, apparently. Giving in, I gingerly set the flowers on the counter and get to work setting her food out. Once Elle is feasting away, I turn back to the flowers.

“Now, who were you supposed to be delivered to?” I hum, plucking the small envelope from amidst the arrangement. Taking a generous whiff, I close my eyes as the sweet aroma fills my senses. “Ugh, whoever they are, they’re lucky. These are absolutely beautiful, don’t you think?”

Again, Elle proves that she really couldn’t care less about the floral arrangement on the counter. Except to maybe knock it over, perhaps.

Slipping open the envelope, I take in the short message.

Jolie,

Because a text isn’t enough.

-PJM

“PJM?”I breathe out, staring at those initials with wide eyes. My breath comes up short as I reread the card again and again, flipping it over to see if there’s anything else. Some sort of clue.

“Elle, these are for us.”

The only response I get is a lazy swish of her tail, but I’m not paying attention to her anyway. All I’m looking at is that bouquet of flowers that’s meant for me after all.  

Ripping my phone out of my back pocket, I open it up to my text conversation with Jaemin. Scrolling through his concerned texts, trying to see if I’m doing alright. With shaking hands, I type out the letters.

Me: PJM?

✂

“She’s not ready to know the truth,” Taehyung reports.

Jimin sits beside him on the couch, arms crossed and looking out the window with a glazed expression. The other members listen to every word that Namjoon and Taehyung are saying, finally getting a full report of the events at the bread shop.

Nevermind the fact that it’s been hours and it’s nearly midnight.

“What? That Jimin’s actually Jaemin?” Jin stretches a little, bumping into Yoongi who hardly notices. “I mean, it’s not like it’s that much of a stretch.”

Taehyung shrugs, glancing over at Jimin who has yet to say anything. “We talked-”

“Screamed,” Namjoon corrects. Jimin perks up at this.

“What were you screaming about?”

Taehyung assesses his friend, deeming him capable of receiving this information. “You. Her own insecurities. Bread.”

“Bread?” Jungkook questions, but it goes unanswered.

“Some part of her wants to be with you,” Taehyung explains, completely overlooking Jungkook’s curious expression. “But she’s freaked out. Kind of like how Jungkook mentioned before, when you first started texting. She’s so in her own head that it’s hard for her to see that you wouldn’t demand her to become some sort of celebrity.”

“She thinks that I would?” Jimin asks. He left his phone in his bedroom, deciding to leave Jolie’s simple question, PJM?, until after he’d had a chance to discuss it with everyone. He knew what she was asking. It was a deliberate choice of his to put his initials on the card rather than the fake name.

He couldn’t stomach her thinking that the flowers were from some random Jaemin, when they were in fact from him.

Her soulmate.

“No, not necessarily. She said that she feels like she would have to become something more, though. Purely because you are who you are. And I think that’s something that really scares her.”

It’s also something that Jimin doesn’t know how to fix. “If she’s not willing to get out of her own head, then how am I supposed to help her?”

Namjoon pipes up. “She seemed a lot better, though. I think, whatever she’s doing, she’s getting better. Chung-hei mentioned that she’s seeing a therapist, actually.”

Jimin sits back. “Good. That’s good.” He chews on the inside of his cheek. “What did she say about the plan?”

The plan. It wasn’t much of a plan. In reality, it was more of a precaution than anything. They all knew that everything would be a mess after Jimin goes back into the public eye, and Jolie would be at risk by just stepping foot outside her door.

“She agreed to be chauffeured,” Namjoon says. “I mean, obviously she’s not happy about it, but she said she understood.”

Jolie would be picked up in the morning and after her shift by a nondescript car driven by Bighit employees. Anytime she needed groceries, they would pick them up for her. Do anything they can to keep her out of the public eye.

“I’m kind of surprised that she agreed,” Jimin admits. “Maybe that’s a good sign?”

There’s a grumble of agreement, and soon after the boys are dispersing. Only one day left until the Muster, tomorrow was going to be busy with final rehearsals and preparations.

Jimin heads up to his room, laying on his bed and staring at the short message from hours earlier.

Jolie (Elle): PJM?

Sighing and ignoring the nerves in his stomach, Jimin just prays that all is not lost.

Me: Yes?

For now, she’s asleep. He doesn’t expect a response anytime soon. Rolling over and facing the wall, Jimin tries his best to close his eyes and let everything roll off his shoulders.

She’s bound to find out sometime.

✂

Jimin’s hands are sweaty as he paces below stage, listening to the roar of the crowd as his brothers perform above him.

The Muster came all too quickly.

Yesterday passed in a blur, consisting of Jimin checking his phone every few minutes only to find it void of any incoming messages. In his heart of hearts, he knew.

She must suspect that her newfound friend is her soulmate in disguise.

It’s with this knowledge that Jimin steps onto the lift, waiting for his brothers to finish their goodbyes before going up for the encore performance.

Looking around him, Jimin watches the staff and stage crew bustling about, preparing for the end of the Muster. Needless to say, his gaze wanders to the countless threads that overlap and lead in every direction. It’s always amazed him, how they never get tangled. How nobody ever trips over them.

Jimin has always marveled at the fact that somehow, somewhere on the other end of those threads is another person. Someone just as busy, just as oblivious to the lifeform attached to them through indescribable means.

Park Jimin has always been told that he would be the best soulmate.

He’s kind, and considerate. Loving and forgiving beyond all comprehension.

It’s something that he has believed is a lie. Every night, even before Jolie cut the very thing that tied them together, he’d lay in bed and stare at that red thread. Wondering what would happen when his soulmate was inevitable disappointed in the fact that their star-studded soulmate was just...him.

Tonight though, as the lift carries him up toward the stage and the beginning cords of “Blue & Grey” begin to play, he begins to believe.

He would be the best soulmate.

Perhaps this is the moment where he proves it. Without hatred, without envy. Without a wounded look in his eyes.

With that conviction humming in his bones, he rises to the stage and walks out under the spotlight.

The arena around him booms with sound as Jimin walks toward where his brothers sit in a semicircle. They gleam with sweat, still breathing heavily after their last performance. As Jimin takes a seat, he looks out into the crowd.

He sees the exact moment they realize what’s missing.

Or rather, hears.

That roar of the crowd, his ARMY so happily welcoming him back to the stage after his long absence, turns to deafening silence.

Into the silence, Jimin sings.

Blue & Grey plays out, Jimin raising the mic to his mouth and singing his parts with a steady voice. He waits for the end, hoping that the CG team in charge of the large screen behind him was able to carry out his request in time.

Taehyung sings the final words, his voice carrying in the quiet arena. And behind Jimin, three letters are traced out across the screen.

PJM.

As soon as the song is finished, the boys get up from their seats and make their way to the lift. They shoot Jimin curious looks as they spot his initials, but he shrugs it off for now. He can only hope that the person it was intended for saw them.

They’ve just made it to the lift when the wailing begins, the crowd having finally broken free of the spell that Blue & Grey wove over them.

“Saranghae Army!” Jimin shouts into the mic, smiling softly. The other members begin to bid them goodbye, reassuring them. They all know it will do little, already a few members of the crowd are inconsolable, but they do it nonetheless.

✂

“Twitter is blowing up right now,” Christina says, scrolling through her feed. I lay on her couch, staring at her television.

I’d come here to see if I sounded like a crazy person for taking Jaemin’s initials so seriously. However, I can’t shake the feeling of something being off.

Naturally, I’ve ignored the problem by not responding to him for a day. I’d say it’s a step up from what I’ve done in the past. At least I’m not cutting him out of my life, right?

“Isn’t it always blowing up over something?” I drawl. When I don’t get a response, I look over to see what the big deal is about.

Christina sits up in her chair, hand thrown over her mouth as her wide eyes stare at her phone.

“What? What happened?”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “I...you need to see this.” Screen-sharing with her TV, a stage replaces our episode. “He went public. It’s official.”

Ah, right. I’d also come to give Christina a fair warning about what was about to happen. Jimin going public today was the other thing occupying all of my thoughts, but I didn’t realize just how big it would be until I see the impact he had at the Muster.

Heart racing and stomach churning, I watch as Jimin appears on stage.

“Wow, that’s a statement,” Christina comments. “Doing ‘Blue & Grey’ as his comeback song?” She catches my eye, realizing who she’s speaking to. “Oh. Right.”

As Jimin settles down and Taehyung begins to sing, I find myself utterly entranced by him. He looks calm. Confident.

The world falls silent in what I assume is the moment people begin to notice that there are only six, not seven, red threads up on stage tonight.

Jimin doesn’t falter in the silence. Instead, he fills it with his voice.

“I’d forgotten,” I croak out. The rest of the words won’t come easily, but thankfully Christina understands what I mean.

“Yeah. He has a beautiful voice, doesn’t he?”

Wordlessly, we watch the rest of the performance. I can’t help but notice the fact that the cameras never pan too far so as to not see Jimin. I’m sure that they’re just as shocked as everyone else is.

As the song comes to an end, I find that somehow my eyesight has become blurry. I can’t quite tell what’s on the screen behind the boys even as Christina begins to shout.

“Look! He- he’s confirming it! Look!”

Rubbing madly at my eyes, I get a closer look at what’s on the screen. The second I see it, I stop breathing altogether.

PJM.

It wasn’t a coincidence.

“It’s him.”

Christina leans forward as the video ends, looking at me for a moment before laughing. “I mean, are we actually surprised? He didn’t try that hard to hide it, now did he? Park Jaemin, seriously?”

As much as I would love to laugh at this moment, I find that I can’t.

My new friend. The one I would scramble to read whenever I got a notification. The one that constantly checked up on me.

The one obsessed with my cat.

“How?” I breathe out.

Christina doesn’t bother to offer a reply, just watching me as the gears shift in my head. No answers are forthcoming, of course. Just the small sliver of truth that keeps on coming back.

“My soulmate is my friend,” I say. It’s obvious, but it’s important.

Jimin is my friend.

Letting out a sigh, Christina nods. “Yes. Your friend.”

The only other coherent thought that crosses my mind has me getting to my feet and slipping my jacket on over my shoulders.

“I need to go.”

“What do you mean, ‘need to go’?” Christina gets up after me, following me to the door. “Aren’t we hitting a major breakthrough right now? Your estranged soulmate is also your friend. Park Jimin isn’t just some celebrity, he’s your friend. Someone you can trust. I mean, sure, this doesn’t mean you have to barge up to his house and see him. That would be weird anyways, because then the thread would reconnect and only extend a few feet, at least, that’s what I’ve heard. It’s weird, because it’s almost like the thread has a mind of its own, you know? In order to defend itself upon reconnection, it keeps a short distance between the soulmates until it's sure they’re safe-”

“Christina.” I turn around to face her, one hand on the door. “He’s my friend, right? A good friend.”

She nods, looking a little confused. “Yeah, I thought we already established that.”

“Friends deserve an explanation, right?”

Christina blinks, looking a little nervous. “You’re not going to visit him, right? You should take the proper precautions for that, you never know how the bond with react-”

“I’m not going to see him,” I reassure her. “I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”

Before she can question me further, I’m out the door. Keeping my head down as I head out on the main road and pass a group of teenagers, I overhear their shocked conversation.

“How does that even work, though?”

“I don’t know, but my dad’s cousin nearly had his thread cut-”

“I bet it’s all for publicity,” another remarks. “Don’t know why they need it, though.”

“Why would they cut a thread for publicity? Idiot, it’s probably CG. Maybe they did it to raise awareness or something.”

I don’t get to hear how their conversation ends before a black SUV pulls off to the side of the road and a woman sticks her head out of the window.

“Hey,” she flashes the ID hanging around her neck. I recognize it as a Bighit ID. “Operation Chauffeur is in full effect now. Hop in.”

It’s unsettling how they found me so quickly, but I distinctly remember agreeing to this plan just a couple of days ago. Sliding into the backseat, I ask the driver to take me home.

“Your name is Jolie?” The woman asks, hands on the steering wheel.

“Yes.”

“I’m Sunmi. Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

✂

As I finally bid Sunmi goodnight - she’s oddly friendly for a Bighit staff member that’s typically charged with driving BTS around - I stumble into my apartment and head straight toward my room. Elle hasn’t arrived back home yet, probably still out on her nightly jaunt.

Which, apparently included Jimin without me even knowing it.

Flipping the light on to my room, I see that the Seoul City Electric envelope is exactly where I left it.

Sitting down at my desk and finding an empty page in a notebook, I take a deep breath.

Once I exhale, I begin to write.

And write.

And write.

Previous - Next

main masterlist

taglist is open! comment/send an ask, or click on the link in the series masterlist!

taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @onewoneman @preciouschimine @missseoulite @somewhereinthestarss @chubsjmin​ @daydreamerwestwood @010op10​ @4evahevah @mawwnsterr @hikka-light @biasnation @eusticenatalie @betysotelo18​ @fangirl125reader  @shhhhsecwet @channiespup @loudnecktrashrascal

[read-weep-repeat]

That little helper idea is so cute woah it made me think what If one day oc is helping Jin bake and they get carried away and make a mess on camera? I wonder how he’d react to her dropping a bowl or something

He’d be sweet about dropping a bowl! He’d comfort her for a minute or two and tell her it’s ok, accidents happen and give her a kiss or two. Then he’d play it off to the camera, like “here’s what happens in kitchens all the time! So let’s remake that batter!” And carry on like nothing happened.

If they just happened to make a mess while filming, they would clean together (Jin would give her floury kisses) and then eat their cake together with a new show they’ve been looking forward too.

[perseuus]

stop messin around kid

[monstersandmaw]

“Y’know, to be honest, I wasn’t sure the prove was gonna pull through, but it made it!” He grins, setting a ball of soft dough onto the floury scape of the kitchen table. Aodhan hums quietly and a soft contentedness settles in his eyes, stress falling away like tea leaves from their newly-stained elixir. “Stress bakin’s underrated, if you ask me,” he chuckles, finishing with a gentle snort, as he begins to knead the dough. Flour sticks to the dark tan of his hands and seems so stark against [1]

…the short, black hair that thickens at his wrists only to become a full coat by his mid-forearm. “Vastly,” he says, picking up the dough and working it in his hands, ready to throw it down to the table again. “Hugely underra-.” The would-be bread hits the table and sends a flurry of flour up at him for his trouble and cheek. Grey t-shirt painted in a spatter of dry white and coat covered in the fine dust, he stops halfway through his victorious conclusion lets his eyes narrow. “…Fuck.” [2]

One shared look and he gives a defeated huff, cast a cloud of flour your way. When the dust clears, through coughs and waved hands, he’s holding out a tea towel with a soft frown fixed over honeyed eyes. The afternoon sun only makes them warmer, till you can almost smell the malt and the baking of fresh bread, honey and whiskey and everything else that comes in the earthiest tones. “Sorry.” [3]           

He hangs his head sheepishly and had it not been for the horns, you’d have believed him ovine for a moment. He starts again, brightly. “But! Fresh focaccia? Not much better than that, right?” [4/4] - hello sweets, hope you’re well

*****************************************

Aodhan anon, I love you. Thank you so much for this. I’m sorry your sweet mino boy is stressed, but his never-failing positivity that underlies that is an inspiration to us all. I really love your oc a lot, and I love that you share him me and my followers like this from time to time. You and your sweetheart mino are always welcome here :)

[trashbins-stuff]

My little silly cringy inanimate show esp 3: "new year new you, right?"

waaaa this took so long but also bc time blindness so it look lazy sorry huff huff huff...okay so lore: in this world they have this thing where someone house is picked to be The House hat everyone come over to celebrate this thing call "old years dinner" (dont think too much of it, it make it up) the ppl in the hosue invite ppl thye know and the ppl they know in vite other ppl THEY know and they all sort of come over and hang out even if they barely know each other. Maybe the real old years dinner was the friends we mae along the way..........................................amyway heres an announcement, mlscis will be on hiatus for alittle while bc i have ezam and ither stuff next espisode will come out at laye jauary or mid feb or maybe even march idk

[shidiand]

Touhou Characters and Fans: A Comprehensive Analysis

In this article, I will be presenting my in-depth research on the characters of Team Shanghai Alice's Touhou Project in relation to their fans. The conclusions I have reached after conducting extensive minutes of research through bing.com are not based on any individuals, and especially not you in particular.

Reimu Reimu fans are among the most difficult to categorize, since Reimu is generally regarded by everyone as a good character. at this point I don't really know what to say. Everyones drawn Reimu at some point. Picasso drew reimu. campbell soups dude probably drew reimu.but with soups. yall like... uh......anime

marisa now i know i just gave this excuse with reimu but come ON if you've ever read anything marisa says in the games you can't NOT like her. actually its more interesting to look at "fans who like marisa more than reimu" than "marisa fans": they like wearing pretty, showy outfits but they won't hesitate to burrow themselves under layers of comfort clothing if theyre in that sort of mood. most of them are short. all of them think her hair is wonderful golden-blonde and fluffy and would probably like longer hair themselves. they would like to blow a smug raspberry in the face of someone they don't like at least once in their life. they would probably like to do so to someone they like, too, on multiple occasions. affectionate people.

rumia i have no idea why rumia is so popular. at first i assumed it was the work of the vore boys but it really isnt. the list of characters the vore boys are interested in is basically the same as the list of touhou girls mom someday

another theory i have for rumia's unusually high popularity is that the rumia fans enjoy "artistic cannibalism". personally i think this sounds like a lot like something else also, my sources have told me that rumia is, (this is a quote) "cute".

the inroads to vore are ever so treacherous.

daiyousei i dont know any daiyousei fans so according to these rules i made up for myself i dont have to write a fthing

cirno ANDY WARHOL THAT'S HIS NAME they have a positive world view, really likes that slight bit of uncertain girliness that some characters have

meiling personally, meiling terrifies me. not only does this woman enjoy exercise, regularly, she'll even encourage others to join in, too. incredibly intimidating. i can only imagine the RAW GAINS meiling fans boast as they shred t-shirt upon t-shirt with their meaty ab flexes, breaching doors using their pectorals, supplying first-stage propulsion for russian aerospace during squats, etc

frankly there are far cooler characters than meiling; those who do love her are very sweet people, enjoy hugging others or being hugged by taller people. easily the nicest person who appears in eosd and her fans reflect that

koakuma very business-looking character. i am led to assume, in combination with the common succubus fanon, that her fans want to be stepped on by someone wearing heels

patchouli either hentai god or depression

sakuya you love girls SO MUCH

remilia remilia fans do not experience self-doubt* (*this can be seen by the fact that they are remilia fans), have strong opinions, a desire to find objective right-ness, and, wielding the divine mandate of Heaven, enjoy being looked up to by others as a figure of sole, exclusive authority. they are happiest in the presence of great religious influence, public executions, the Holy Roman Empire, and Constantinople, but can be expelled from your lands with peasant uprising, the Magna Carta, coalitions of wealthy nobles, the Gauls, and/or trebuchets. Furthermore, it can be said that the development of the three-field system marked a turning point within the domestic agriculture of Europe; indeed, Landon and Mercedes[3] posit that the rapid spread of crop rotation across central Europe by serfs of the tenement created an economic climate where towns and trade routes could arise and flouri

flandre pick a different character

letty(?) pretty sure the only people who enjoy winter are the ones who have never actually touched snow in their life so that rules out everyone i know

HOLY SHIT, I FORGOT PC98 if you know pc98 characters then youre already doing better than me. i respect that a lot but unfortunately i personally dont know a thing so ur gonna have to go jack it to Complete Darkness or something cause i cant help you here

uhhh chen

fffffffuck this im skipping chen

alice somewhat distant people with a bad sense of time, few but very deep interests

yukari ALL OF YOU ARE THIRSTY HOES delighted by the chance to surprise others. very "ride or die" people. you used to be able to piss them off easily by calling Yukari nasty but i think they're over that now

and thats every single character in touhou project Source: my twitter timeline fanfiction.net facebook.com if youd like to submit some touhou oc's for me to consider (e.g. "Benben Tsukumo", "Iku Nagae") please dont

[fgipr]

Childhood Best Friends’ “Pie In The Sky” Dream Continues as they Open Pizzeria at USC Village

Aaron Tofani and Rance Ruiz met as 3rd grade students in Orange County 25 years ago and their enduring friendship has laid the groundwork for the debut of the pair’s third Rance’s Chicago Pizzeria at the $700 million USC University Village (835 West Jefferson, Los Angeles).  Joining the popular Belmont Shore and Costa Mesa eateries, the 3rd Rance’s location is expected to open on Saturday, November 11 and will take its place among the complex’s other restaurants and retail stores including Trader Joe’s, Target, Starbuck’s and Cava.  The new 74-seat, 2,000-square-foot restaurant with patio will serve the same distinctive pies that have earned them critical praise including a restaurant industry Golden Foodie Award for “best pizza” Rance’s Chicago Pizza distinguishes itself by using all fresh ingredients with everything made from scratch so the restaurant has no need for a freezer.  It will offer three versions of its signature pie: stuffed, pan and thin crust pizza.  The stuffed version consists of a thin layer of house-made dough filled with high-quality cheeses and the guest’s choice of ingredients.  It is then covered with another thin layer of dough to seal and lock in all the flavors.  After being topped in Rance’s zesty tomato sauce, the pie is baked for about 40 minutes before being served. Rance’s Pan Pizza is its signature item and uses a slightly thicker, richer dough than the stuffed version.  The floury mixture is placed in a seasoned deep-dish pan and topped with the guest’s choice of ingredients along with a generous amount of Wisconsin mozzarella. Lightly covered with a zesty tomato sauce and gentle sprinkle of pecorino, the pie bakes for 40 minutes before being served. Perhaps the simplest alternative is the thin-crust pizza, which is layered with Rance’s signature sauce, topped with the guest’s pick of ingredients and covered with fresh cheese.  This pie only takes 30 minutes to prepare. Rounding out the menu are distinctly Italian appetizers like meatballs and marinara, garlic cheese sticks, artichoke dip and bruschetta topped with fresh diced tomatoes, garlic pesto, feta cheese and sliced red onions.  Pizza by the slice is also available weekdays during its all-day Happy Hour from 11 am to 6 pm. Among the salads are a Caesar, spinach, caprese and house.  Rance’s offers 30 specialty beers on tap and a variety of wines by the glass or bottle. “We searched long and hard for the right pizza tenant for USC Village,” said Laurie Michelle Stone, USC associate senior vice president for real estate and asset Management. “We wanted something unique and eclectic that delivered big and bold flavors. Rance’s Chicago Pizza hit the mark on all fronts.” WHAT THE CRITICS ARE SAYING: OC Register: “…Nobody in Orange County has perfected Chicago-style pizza better…” Orange Coast Magazine’s “OC’s Best Pizza”: “…The thick rim’s interior is like a flaky pastry and its exterior is a uniformly beauteous golden hue...” CBS Los Angeles: “…If you are looking for a great pizza with Chicago-type flair, this is it…” OC Weekly: “…His pies are as legit as Rush Street, and it's all about the cheese. It starts as flowing, milky chunks at the beginning of a slice that start to harden with each bite as you get closer to the sturdy crust…his stuffed pizza (two layers of cheese) is even better…”

[trashbins-stuff]

Silly

In ordwr r: crystal heart from ttc, salad, carp, fae au blair and my oc (soda cup, sunhat, floury and digital pen)

[trashbins-stuff]

Some zilly oc atuff i qmde cuz bored

These two r connected vv

Ill put in reblob

[trashbins-stuff]

Bins oc of the day: floury :]

[trashbins-stuff]

Under r some silly stuff to get to know mlre abt them

Oc who r sibling:

Gamebot neon and gameswitch

Potion and camera

Shoppy bag and shoppy cart

Calculator and sunhat and bin

Heartclip is s.bag and s.cart cousin and strawberry is hcs mom

All character on the 2nd sheet (calculator, potion, gbn and s.cart) r in a polycule

Cash registry come from the future

All character on the 1st sheet r bestie

Heart clip and tulip r roomate

Soda cup and digital pen and floury r in a polucule, soda cup is also dating sunhat, floury and sunhat r childhood best friends, sunhat have a qpr squish on digital pen

Tulip is also a runaway experiment but they keep it a secret

Uhm ig thats all lmao

Just finish my ocs asset, u can put them in cpmics or incorrect quotes or anything u want rlly (plz do show me) :] (ill reblob with the rest)