#for the most part it's all just.....weird to me

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Rent-a-Scandal

Bruce's identity as Batman is outed on live TV. It was after Joker unmasked him, but thankfully, Clark was fast enough to throw on a spare Batsuit.

They managed to convince most of the public that Bruce had been working as a decoy to distract Joker so that "Batman" could find the rest of the hostages. Most.

There were those pecky few that saw right through their ruse. He needed to do another stunt that would install doubt that Ditzy Party Boy Bruce Wayne could never be Batman.

The thing was his usual antics weren't working. No amount of parties. No alcoholic induced stupidity. And not even multiple women hanging off his arm was making them move away from their observations. They were even catching on that all of those incidents were done on purpose.

He needed to do something fresh, something new, something that would completely overshadow the skeptics who were casting doubt on his facade.

But what?

"How about hiring someone to write up a scandal?" Jason recommended it over dinner. In front of him, he had a manuscript. For the first time, he was going to audition for the lead role in his school plan. Bruce just knows his Jaylad will blow the rest of the computation away. "You can have a writer who thinks you're trying to make some weird mystery party or something."

"It would never work. They would notice I used things I asked them to write as personal scandals. But thank you for the idea, Jaylad." Bruce beams at his son.

"Well...what if you hired someone trustworthy? Like Clark?" Jason counters, but Bruce is already shaking his head.

"Clark specializes in journalism, not public relationships. Besides, his full-time job doesn't give him time to type me up some scandal-"

"I have a guy," Alfred offers as he places an extra plate in front of Jason. At their bafflement, he gives them a secretive smile, much like the kind that would curve on a snake if it had the ability to do so. "He is trustworthy. I have his soul tied in a contact. He wouldn't be able to blab once I command it."

Jason slowly put down his fork. "I-

But Alfred was already moving away, waving a hand over his shoulder. "I'll ring the gent right now. He's your age, Master Bruce, which will mean you can make a new friend."

"Does he really have a soul?" Jason gasps as Alfred vanishes into the manor. Alfred's tiny face is white, which would have been hilarious if it was a white lie. The trouble is, Bruce isn't entirely sure Alfred is lying.

Not that he could tell Jay that. The poor thing was barely getting comfortable in the manor lately. If the boy thought the butler could steal souls, it was back to square one of earning his trust.

"No, no, no, Alfred was joking. He's likely calling someone he trusts-"

A boom bursts across the dining hall as a glowing green portal rips open and out steps a man close to Alfred's age in a purple coat. He's carrying a suitcase and has a typewriter tucked under his arm. A scarf is wrapped around his neck, where Bruce's eyes finally notice the odd grey tint to the man's skin.

He's obviously not human.

"Hello," the stranger sighs after running his green eyes around the room. My name is Ghostwriter, and Alfred Pennyworth commanded me to be your scandal writer. I brought along an assistant who will be playing the second part of all of the situations. This is Danny Phantom; he'll play your secret gay lover."

"Hi!" says a man around Bruce's age to the Ghostwriter's side, a little too cheerfully. He's not human either, as he's glowing like a lightbulb was placed under his skin. His hair was pure white, which also seemed to be glowing in a different shade, and his eyes were a color that was not humanly possible.

He also flouted while the writer stood in place. "Alfred owns my soul as well, but unlike Ghostwriter here, I didn't lose it to him in stripper poker."

"That man counts cards!" Ghostwriter snaps

Jason stood up from his seat, hands held up. "This a lot. I have a play to practice for. Figure it out, B."

His son grabs his manuscript, bows his head a little toward the guests, and scurries right out of the dining hall, leaving Bruce to his fate. Alfred pats Jason's head lovingly as he smiles and passes him through the door. "Oh good, you meet your ghostly pr and secret gay lover. We have a real show stopper with these two, Master Bruce."

You know, Bruce had a good run with the whole Batman thing. Maybe it was time to retire.

"Let's get down to business. What have you written so far, Ghostwriter.?" Inquires Alfred. He makes that satisfied snake smile when the writer glares at him with utter loathing before the man rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers.

In front of Bruce, a pile of papers appears covered in writing. He grabs them out of the air only because it floating dangerously close to his nose.

"I think the best course of action is to play up the fact that Bruce has a secret, then leak some photos of Danny in suggestive poses. You drop on in Wayne Tower's lobby after we allow the rumors to fester with paparazzi." The writer explains, waving his hand to his assistant, who seems too amused by what is being suggested.

"As Phantom or Fenton?" Danny asks to Bruce's confusion.

"Fenton. We want a scandal, not a diplomatic emergency." Ghostwriter scoffs.

Bruce's face screwed up. "What do you mean diplomatic emergency? How so?"

"Oh, I'm the Ghost King," Danny reveals casually as if those words meant anything to Bruce. "If word got back to the ghosts that I was fooling around with a human without the intent to make him my consort, well, things would get dicey."

Alfred's smile turned a tad bit darker. "We wouldn't want that."

Danny's face froze for a few seconds. He stared at Alfred with what could be considered terror and...attraction? He then smiled as softly as a flower. "No, we would not."

Ghostwriter flings himself into the chair next to Bruce. He grabs the meatloaf off of his plate with his bare hands, taking a bite with a sigh. "Don't worry, I've seen this story a thousand times. He may think Alfred is a silver fox, but by the end of it, Danny will be yours."

"What?"

[wosospacegirl]

Stuck with you - part 2

Summary: Y/n’s used to Alexia’s overprotectiveness and the pressure of her career—but Kika? The shy, socially awkward teammate who’s starting to make her feel things she didn’t expect.

Warnings: Y/n is absolutely oblivious to everything, Kika is adorably awkward, Alexia is a complete idiot, Aitana is old, and Olga is mother. <3 Real warning now - angst!! Alexia and Y/n fight on this one, again.

Word count: 5.5k

MASTERLIST

| PART 1 |

..

The week of training had been intense.

An Él clássico was approaching, and Romeu was making sure all the girls were physically and mentally prepared, even if it meant pushing them to the brink with his bizarre ideas about team dynamics.

Y/n wanted to win the game, of course, but she also wanted to keep all her limbs.

When Alexia and Y/n arrived at training–without any fighting, miraculously– they were quickly separated by the assistant coach into two teams: seniors and youngsters. 

“What is he doing?” Vicky whispered to Y/n as they made their way to the left side of the pitch. “I bought new training boots, tio [bro], I wanted to use them for, you know…football, not this.”

“I have no idea,” Y/n replied. “He always comes up with the most absurd ideas ever known to mankind, or well, manager kind.” 

“Guys, guys!”

Y/n and Vicky turned around at the sound of Jana’s voice.  She was walking towards them, her ponytail swishing with each step she took on the grass.

However, it was the girl on Jana’s side that caught Y/n’s attention.

Kika.

She had the same sweet smile on her face as she always did. People might expect Kika to be tired by now; it was Friday and she had completed her first full week at Barcelona, but instead of tired, she seemed excited and full of energy.

The whole team had warmed up to her already, even Alexia. Y/n had noticed the other day how Kika and Alexia had a cordial and amicable conversation in the changing room.

It was something about Alexia wanting to learn Portuguese–Alexia had never mentioned this desire to learn another language to Y/n.

“I think we’re doing a tug of war,” Jana said, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.

“What?!” Y/n and Vicky said in unison.

Romeu was known for creating…unique training methods. Most of them had weird rules and were very physically demanding, but tug of war? That was–peculiar– even for Romeu.

“How the hell would tug of war help us in anything?” Vicky asked exasperated. 

“We’re just going to get burns on our hands,” Y/n muttered, facepalming. “Now it’s a good time to pretend to have cramps or what?”

Kika chuckled at Y/n’s remark, which brought Y/n’s attention back to the Portuguese girl.

She had a pretty smile, and a cute laugh as well.

“Kika said she saw the biggest rope in Romeu’s office, and that he was searching about how the tug of war could be beneficial to other sports,” Jana explained, placing her hand on Kika’s shoulder, who leaned into the touch.

Hmm, okay.

Y/n shifted the weight between her feet, trying to suppress the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. It looked like Kika was really settling in.

“What were you doing in Romeu's office?” Vicky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He called me to talk about how my first week went,” Kika replied.

The conversation was cut short when Romeu walked onto the pitch. And it looked like Kika was right after all.

Romeu had the largest rope Y/n had ever seen. All the other girls were staring at it weirdly, wide-eyed.

“Alright, girls! Today we’re doing tug of w–”

“Why?” Y/n interrupted, deadpan.

“Huh?” Romeu asked, raising an eyebrow while turning to Y/n. The large rope on his hand made the scene look…comical, to say the least.

“Why are we doing this? Does it have a real benefit?”

Romeu was silent for a moment, not used to the players questioning him.

“Hm, yes, Y/n.” He said. “It’ll make the team grow closer together, it’ll tighten the bond you all have with each other.”

“Why tug of war, though,” Jana asked, clearly confused. “Is this supposed to make us stronger or just humiliate us?”

“You guys will have to work together as a team,” Romeu explained. “And it’ll be fun, trust me, no humiliat–”

“I don’t think it’s fun,” Vicky said bluntly. “Does anyone think it’s fun? To pull a rope around and what? Laugh at the team that loses?”

“Yeah, it seems boring,” Pina chimed in.

“We could just play volleyball if we’re trying to build team spirit,” Vicky suggested.

“Or we could just play football,” Y/n added with a shrug before looking at her arms disappointed. “I’ve got the upper body strength of a noodle, this isn’t gonna end well.”

“I’m with Y/n on this one,” Pina agreed, leaning in on Patri, who also nodded in agreement.

Jana raised her hand like she had a better idea. “Oh, we could also–”

“Do you girls want to go back to La Masia?” Romeu interrupted, emotionless.

The four girls immediately shut their mouths and shook their heads.

“If you’ve got better ideas, you can coach next week,” he muttered. “Kids…” 

Y/n rolled her eyes but stayed quiet, listening as he explained the dY/namics of the game.

She was zooming out when she felt a sharp tug on her ear.

“Stop talking back to Romeu,” Alexia whispered, a typical frown on her face.

The girls were too busy listening to the instructions to hear their conversation. Thank God, Y/n didn’t want everybody to hear her getting lectured by Alexia…again.

“Stop tugging my ear like I'm five!” y/n hissed back.

“Stop acting like you’re five,” Alexia replied. “I know it’s hard for you, but try, yeah?”

“Why don't you tug Vicky's ear too?” y/n asked annoyed. “She’s just as bad as me.”

“Because I didn’t practically raise Vicky like I did you,” Alexia said, smirking slightly. “Be on your good behaviour, please.”

Y/n turned to Romeu and the group, making sure they were all too absorbed in the tug-of-war thing before turning back around to face Alexia.

“Ale, come on,” Y/n said. “Don’t make a deal about it.”

“Managers are supposed to be respected,” Alexias said, ignoring Y/n, with a tone that made it clear she was serious.

Alexia was the perfect little player. She always trusted her manager, always listened to them, and always made sure to be the best captain and athlete for them, especially for Romeu.

It wasn’t that Y/n was impolite to Romeu or any other manager she had, it just was that she didn’t put them on the same pedestal that Alexia did. 

Y/n didn’t see a problem in questioning Romeu, but Alexia felt like she was the only one allowed to do that, or else, it was disrespectful.

“I didn't disrespect him! Why are you bothering me about it, tio?” Y/n argued.

“You know he’ll bench you if he doesn’t like your attitude,” Alexia said quietly. “I want you on the pitch, not sitting on the sideline.”

Y/n’s heart softened at her words, but she still didn’t like how Alexia tugged at her ear like she was a kid. 

But Alexia was right–only this time, though. She needed to be on Romeu's good side to play one of the most important games of the season.

Last month Patri said something to Romeu that he didn’t like and she was benched for two whole games. Y/n didn't want to end up like that, especially with El Clássico approaching.

“Okay,” Romeu said, clapping his hand. “Split yourself into those two teams I talked about, seniors take the right end of the rope, youngsters, the left.

“Aitana, you stay with the seniors,” Romeu said, pointing at Alexia, Marta and other players.

Aitana looked at him confused. “But Ona is with the youngest and we’re just months apart.”

“The classification is based on who has more back pain and who forgets where they put their keys,” Vicky teased.

Aitana gave her a blank stare while the whole team laughed. 

“Right, so I’m basically a walking cane now,” Aitana said dryly, crossing her arms as she started to walk to the other side.

Alexia greeted her with open arms, a victorious smile on her face, even though the teams hadn’t even started the game.

“She’s really like a big sister to you,” Y/n heard Kika’s voice behind her. “Oh–sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your conversation,” Kika said laughing nervously. “I just– I overheard it.”

“Yeah, she’s…too much sometimes,” Y/n said with a small, amused smile before preparing for the tug of war.

Kika positioned herself directly in front of Y/n.

And then it began.

Both groups were pulling the rope with everything they had.

Y/n’s fingers were burning from the friction, but what was really burning was the spot on her thigh where Kika’s leg was pressing against her. 

Kika was directly in front of her– bent low to keep her foot– so in consequence, her thigh was firmly pressed against Y/n’s.

Y/n shouldn’t have worn shorts to training, she should have stuck to her leggings, or sometimes that covered more skin. 

Y/n tried to ignore it.

Y/n was going to think of puppies. Flowers. Anything but Kika.

“Pull the fucking rope!” Jana’s voice barked from behind her. “Why are you letting it slip?”

Crap. She was distracted.

Kika distracted her.

Y/n gritted her teeth and pulled the rope harder. Across from her, Alexia’s face was set in that determined, slightly terrifying expression that usually meant she was winning. 

But this time, La Reina lost.

When Alexia’s team hit the ground in defeat, Alexia shot up unnaturally fast, her white training kit smeared with dirt and grass. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she pointed at the younger girls.

“They cheated, Romeo!” Alexia protested furiously.

Y/n had been too busy celebrating to care about Alexia’s reaction. She hugged Vicky, and then Jana, then Ona–and finally, without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the nearest body around her.

“We did it!” Y/n said, happily, still riding the high of winning over the seniors, and especially, Alexia.

That was until she realised it.

Kika. She was hugging Kika.

Y/m froze when she realized, pulling back immediately as if she had touched something on fire.

“Oh– I'm sorry,” Y/n stammered.

“No, it's…alright,”  Kika said, her voice nervous, but softer at the same time.

Kika’s ace was flushed, the redness creeping down her neck, her hands shifted at her sides, not knowing exactly what to do.

Y/n gave her an awkward smile before heading to the changing room.

That should’ve been the end of it — except when Y/n glanced back, she saw Kika laughing with Vicky and Patri, an arm draped around each of them.

Kika didn’t seem to get nervous when the other girls were around her, only when Y/n was. She didn’t seem to tense up around them.

Maybe it was something personal? Maybe Y/n made Kika feel uncomfortable somehow? 

Y/n wasn’t the most charismatic person around. That’d be Vicky and Jana, but she didn't like to think her personality was prone to make others uncomfortable.

Y/n thought she was rather distant already. She didn’t fuss over anyone like Alexia did–so she thought she and Kika were okay, but seeing how Kika just looked way more at ease with the other girls left a bitter taste in Y/n’s mouth.

Yeah… Y/n needed to back off.

It wasn't the first time Kika acted nervous around Y/n.

Just yesterday Y/n asked if it was okay if she used the treadmill next to Kika at the gym and Kika began stammering.

Was Y/n that unbearable to be around?

It wasn’t like she wanted Kika to be nervous and uncomfortable around the other girls. She just wished Kika could.

Maybe be more at ease with her, too?

..

That doubt lingered in Y/n’s mind as she poked at food later in Barcelona’s restaurant. Marta and Aitana were chatting away, but Y/n couldn’t focus. 

The stranger feeling in her chest–one that she couldn’t put a name in–was too loud.

Y/n was pulled out of her thoughts when Alexia sat down by her side, putting her plate–filled with greens– on the table and grumbling under her breath.

“What?” Aitana asked.

“Just… the tug of war was so unfair and–”

“Déu meu,” [Oh my god] Y/n muttered as she pushed her chair back, grabbing her plate.

“Estrellita, where are you going?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at the nickname. How many times will she have to ask Alexa not to call her that?

“Eat in peace.”

“What do you mean?” Alexia challenged. “Do I disturb your peace?”

“Every day,” Y/n shot back.

She heard Alexia mumble something about how Y/n still hadn't lost the teenager's moodiness but ignored her. She just wanted to find a new table.

Unfortunately, every spot was taken–except one.

Kika's.

She was sitting alone, though she didn't seem to mind.

Y/n hesitate. She wasn’t about to pull an ‘Alexia’ and invade Kika’s space.

But then–

Kika waved.

Y/n blinked confused, Maybe it was for somebody else. She looked at her left, then at her right.

Kika continued to wave.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked behind her.

“You are hopeless,” Alexia muttered, pointing at Kika. “Don't you see Kika waving at you? Go sit down!”

Before Y/n could process it, Alexia gave her a light shove in Kika’s direction.

Y/n found herself standing awkwardly in front of Kika’s table, unsure what to do with her hands.

“Hi?” She tried.

“Hi,” Kika smiled.

They were in silence. 

“Do…do you wanna sit?” Kika asked nervously. 

There it was again– that nervousness. Yep, Y/n was definitely making her uncomfortable, no doubts about that now.

Maybe Kika was just being polite and offering a seat because she felt bad watching Y/n standing in the middle of the restaurant.

“No, it's okay,” Y/n said quickly.

“Oh, are you sure?” Kika asked, looking around. “All the other tables are full.”

Okay. So it was just pity.

“Hmm,” Y/n looked at the free chair in front of her, not really sure about what to do…eating while standing up seemed pathetic, even for her.

“I can eat standing up with you, if you want” Kika offered, saying, already moving her plate.

“Oh no! I’ll– I’ll just sit,” Y/n blurted, hurriedly sliding into the seat before Kika could follow through. “Here. I’ll sit here.

Kika's expression faltered a bit. 

Yep, she definitely did not want Y/n there.

It was like one of those moments when you offer someone food–to be polite–and they actually say yes.

It wasn’t like Y/n didn’t understand it. She wasn’t the easiest person to be around. She was–in addition to other things– quiet, grumpy, maybe a little rude when she absolutely didn't mean to and when she did mean to.

And now she was sitting here, and probably bothering Kika.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She was going to eat fast, keep her head down, and leave before Kika could notice.

But when Y/n looked up, Kika was eating normally, seemingly unfazed, almost as if Y/n wasn’t there.

Y/n decided to follow Kika’s lead and appreciate the amazing fish Barcelona’s cook had prepared. 

The silence between them stretched on, heavy and awkward.

Y/n was good at silence, the best ever. She could be quiet for hours without a problem. 

But in some way, being in silence in Kika’s presence felt…wrong. 

“So…how’s your day been?” Y/n asked,  trying to steer some conversation. Asking about Kika’s day was good, casual, safe territory. 

Although she pretty much spent the whole day with Kika, she knew almost everything that had happened. Next time she should try asking about the weather.

Kika smiled shyly, taking a bite of her food before answering. “Good and busy! I’m getting used to everything here.”

Y/n nodded, offering a small smile pressed in a tight line on the lips. 

Before she could respond, Kika reached for her glass of water, but her hand slipped, and the glass tipped over, spilling water all over the table and onto Y/n’s lap.

Kika’s face flushed red immediately. "Oh no! I’m so sorry, I–”

Kika quickly grabbed a napkin and started dabbing furiously at the mess on the table. “I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to–It just–” The girl kept rambling, her words tumbling over each other as she panicked. “Do you have a change of shorts?! Merda, you can grab one of mine, no problem.” [shit] 

Y/n just… stared at the whole thing for a moment. Not in a mean way, just in a–blanky way, like her brain needed a minute to process whatever had just happened…because of course, this would happen today.

Right at the moment that she was having some–very minor–success in trying to socialise with other people the universe decided to pour cold water on her, literally.

“It’s okay,” Y/n muttered after a few seconds, barely loud enough for Kika to hear. Y/n wasn’t sure what she could say, she never spilt her drinks or anyone or had anyone do it to her…and it really was okay. It was only water. 

Should Y/n…take more napkins? They were all in Kika’s hand already. Should she get up now? Maybe grab a towel in the kitchen to dry the table? Oh that would be a good idea, maybe Y/n could grab more napkins while she was in the kitchen and–

“I’m such an idiot,” Kika mumbled under her breath.

“No you’re not,” Y/n said quickly, too quickly. 

Y/n bit her lip, feeling like she already said too much. She wasn’t the best at comforting people, and knowing her luck, she shouldn’t even try to comfort Kika, she would probably make her feel worse. 

She always seemed uneasy around y/n, especially now.

Kika turned away her attention from the table to Y/n’s legs. She started at Y/n’s tights, and then at the napkins on her hands, and then at Y/n’s leg again. She took a step closer and nervously began drying Y/n’s shorts–and bits of her skin.

Y/n’s breath got caught up in her mouth. She just…froze, again. Kika rubbed the rough material of the cheap napkin against shorts, but the fabric had already absorbed most of the water, so it felt like Kika was drying–y/n’s skin?

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n said firmly, reaching out to grab Kika’s wrists before she could rub another napkin into her skin. They kinda burned.

Kika froze instantly, her hand still hovering just above Y/n’s leg. Her fingers twitched while holding the napkins, almost as if she wasn’t sure whether to pull away or insist on drying Y/n off.

Then Kika looked up, her brown eyes wide and startled, and for a moment she just…stared.

Y/n, as a great connoisseur of social interaction, stared back, slightly pressing her hands against Kika’s wrists. 

Her skin was soft and warm, and Y/n liked it. It feels comforting to touch it.

“I should, hm–” Kika stammered, yanking her wrists away from Y/n and moving too fast and nearly knocking Y/n’s glass off the table in the process. “I-I will..grab more napkins.”

“Yeah, right,” Y/n nodded, stiffly, watching as Kika hurried off like she was running from her. Again.

Y/n stabbed the piece of fish with her fork bitterly, not caring about how wet her tights were. She only cared about how Kika hurried off like she couldn't get fast enough.

In the end, Y/n didn’t see Kika for the rest of the day. She wasn’t training at the pitch in the afternoon, but Y/n didn’t know why. 

So she asked around, very casually, about the missing girl.

At first, she tried Vicky and Jana.

“Hi,” Y/n said, leaning in one of the lockers while Jana changed her shirt and Vick did her hair. “How was lunch? Didn’t see you guys at the restaurant.”

“We went to that Italian place I told you about,” Jana said while bending down to fix her boots. “The one you said was way overpriced and that you’d never go?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at Jana’s comment. Y/n didn't like to go out much, not even with her friends — she just liked to play football and go home. Vicky understood that better than Jana. Jana’s love language was quality time or something like that.

“But it was good,” Jana added, “I ordered caprese salad and Vicky had some fettuccine alfredo.”

“Hmm,” Y/n said, trying to sound disinterested.

“Why do I think you only asked about our lunch because you want something?” Vicky asked. “What is it? Just say it.”

“Have you–like–seen Kika?” Y/n asked, playing with her hair and not making eye contact, “I’m just curious, haven’t seen her around for some time.”

Vicky and Jana shared a look Y/n couldn’t quite decode.

“We haven’t seen her since the tug of war earlier,” Jana said, smiling at her. “But maybe she’s at physio?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.”

Y/n mumbled something that sounded like a thank you and left the room.

She needed someone nosy, someone who was always in other people’s business.

And that’s when she saw Aitana and Alexia at the pitch, both stretching their legs while having a conversation.

Without thinking too much, Y/n casually walked over, positioned herself next to them and started to stretch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while awkwardly pulling her thigh up against her body.

“Estrellita, hi!” Aitana said smiling. “What do you want?” Aitana was always straightforward.

“What? Can’t I just hang out with my lovely teammates?” Y/n said, voice just a little too casual.

Aitana raised an eyebrow while Alexia looked amused.

“Well–” Y/n said, looking at the two girls. She couldn’t be as honest as Aiatana, so she had to…play around a little bit. “I was wondering about our schedule for the day.”

“Schedule?” Alexia asked, confused. “What schedule? We do the same thing every day: gym, training, lunch, training, go home.”

“Hm, right,” Y/n said. “But it's not always the same for every player.”

“Yeah, that’s why they send us our own weekly calendar,” Aitana pointed out, her tone suspicious.

“Are you looking for someone?” Alexia asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

“What?! No of course not,” Y/n said way too fast. “Why would you think that? I’m just trying to have a conversation here…”

“Right,” Aitana said suspiciously, dragging out the word like she didn’t believe her for a second.

“Well, if you happen to be looking for someone–” Alexia said, “And that someone happens to be the new Portuguese girl, just know that she’s doing some media training for the rest of the day.”

Alexia winked at her.

Y/n felt her face heat up instantly. Great. Just great. Without saying a word, she turned on her heel and stormed off, nearly tripping over her own shoelace in the process. ‘Perfect’, she thought, scowling. ‘Now I look like an idiot on top of everything else.’

..

“Fix your face,” Y/n muttered while sitting on the passenger seat, Alexia by her side, hands on the wheel as she started the car.

“I’ll fix mine when you fix yours,” Alexia grumbled back, in the same tone as Y/n. 

They were in silence.

Y/n hummed through the songs playing on the radio while Alexia had a frown on her face, her lips in a tight line.

“I just think it’s unfair, Estrelitta,” Alexia stated after 14 minutes of no talking–Y/n counted, it was the closest she got to heaven.

“What?” Y/n asked as they drove through the park Alexia used to take her to train a few years ago when she still was a teen.

It was a good memory.

“That you guys cheated!” Alexia snapped.

“Déu meu, Alexia,” y/n said as she considered throwing herself out of the moving vehicle. “How can you cheat at fucking tug of war, Alexia?!”

“Okay, first: language,” Alexia said sternly, “Second, you can cheat by using magnesium to get a better grip on the rope.”

Alexia said magnesium in the same tone someone would disclose a big, juicy, secret.

“And where do you think we would find magnesium,” Y/n asked exasperated, she tried to be a chill person but Alexia really brought out the worst in her. “We’re footballers not fucking Rebeca Andrade e Simone Biles.” 

Y/n made sure Alexia saw her rolling her eyes, to get her point across. 

“I saw something white on Jana’s hand,” Alexia continued. “Maybe she got it from someone else…do you happen to know any gymnast?” 

“Do I look like I know a lot of people to you?” Y/n asked impatiently. “Better yet a gymnast…? You sound like you would prefer Jana to have cocaine on her hands rather than magnesium. Chill, Ale.”

Alexia never dropped an argument, never. 

Y/n learned to deal with this by simply walking away. She wasn’t one of those people who always needed to be right, but Alexia was.

Unfortunately, Y/n couldn’t walk away from a moving car.

Alexia did not stop complaining though. 

Alexia moaned for 9 minutes straight–y/n counted, again – about the tug-of-war thing. Y/n was going to burn the fucking rope next time she was at the training centre so Romeu would never bring it up.

When Alexia brought up her hallucination about Jana using magnesium for the eleventh time, Y/n decided it was enough.

Y/n had a bad day.

Kika had been acting weird around her while acting normal and friendly with the other girls. She got all wet at the restaurant because Kika spilt water on her–not that she was mad at the girl. And to top it all off, Y/n made a lot of mistakes during the afternoon sessions.

The only–small–victory of her day was the stupid tug of war, and Alexia was taking that away from that by being a whiner.

“Alexia! Please, shut up,” Y/n snapped, turning her torso to stare at Alexia, who seemed to cough off guard by Y/n’s sudden shift in attitude.

Moments ago she was just listening to it. Her usual grumpy face. But now? Now she was mad.

“I really don’t know how Olga can deal with you,” Y/n continued. “You’re impossible to put up with! It was a game, Ale! A game! Get over it.”

They had finally arrived home and Alexia turned off the car before she turned to Y/n, anger on her face.

“At least, I have someone to put up with me,” Alexia said as she got out of the car, slamming the door shut. 

Y/n mouth was agape. “And I bet Olga has to really try because you’re annoying as fuck!”

Y/n followed Alexia inside the house, making sure to slam the car door even harder. When Alexia opened the door, they continued their yelling.

Olga who was lying on the sofa in her pyjamas couldn’t understand a thing of what was happening and why the two women were yelling at each other.

Alexia threw her training bag on the floor. “I’m annoying but at least somebody loves me!” Alexia said angrily. “I'm not angry and cranky all the time like you are.”

Alexia’s words felt like a slap to her face. 

Y/n froze, staring at Alexia, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. Especially because, deep down, and given her history, it was true.

Y/n’s parents had sent Y/n off to live with someone they didn't know when she was only fourteen. Laura, her ex-girlfriend, had only been with her for the money. 

“Alexia!” Olga sternly said, getting up from the sofa quickly.

If Y/n wasn’t so upset by what Alexia had just said, she would have laughed at the way Olga tugged at Alexia’s ear–the same way Alexia did to her–while giving her a full lecture about empathy.

Unfortunately, the damage was done. 

She quickly took her training bag and made her way to her room, ignoring the way Alexia and Olga were calling for her.

..

Hours had passed, maybe two, maybe more. 

Y/n had already taken a shower and changed into comfy clothes. She decided she was going to take the sadness away.

She was lying on her bed, her face buried in her pillow when she heard a soft knock on her door. Y/n didn’t answer, hoping whoever it was would just leave her alone.

“Y/n,” Olga’s voice called softly before she opened the door anyway. Typical.

“I brought you some water,” Olga said, setting the glass on Y/n’s nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Also thought about bringing some chocolate, but I was scared you would…throw it at my head”

Despite herself, Y/n let out a chuckle against the pillow.

“There she is,” Olga said with a smile. “Look, I know Alexia’s a complete idiot sometimes and what she said earlier…”

Y/n tensed, her smile disappearing as she pressed her face closer to the pillow. It was like if she couldn’t see Olga, then Olga wouldn't see her as well.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Olga said quietly. “I know it sounded bad — like really bad — but she was angry, and you know how her mouth runs faster than her brain sometimes, well, most of the time.”

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat tightening.

“She’s not wrong, though,” Y/n muttered, her voice muffled. “At least she has people who care about her– her parents, her sisters…you.”

“You really believe that? That you don’t have people who love you?” Olga asked, her voice softer now. “Because if you do… then you’re more oblivious than I thought.”

Y/n turned her head slightly, just enough to see Olga sitting beside her on the mattress, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“You think Alexia doesn’t care about you?” Olga continued, looking at Man's face, her wide eyes reminding her of when Y/n was just a kid. “That I don’t? That the girls don’t? Even Alexia’s family treat you as their own, Cariño.”

“That’s different,” Y/n said quietly.

“It’s not,” Olga insisted. “I know things haven’t been easy for you… with your parents, with…” she hesitated, “…with Laura. But you’re not alone, Y/n. Maybe your family doesn’t look the way you thought it would, but you have one. And Alexia? She’s part of it — whether you like it or not.”

“She’s just... bad at showing it sometimes,” Olga added. “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re family to her and that she loved you very much and–”

Olga smiled sweetly. “ And I know that I love you very, very, much.”

Y/n finally turned her head completely to Olga, no longer hiding half of it on the pillow.

“She has a funny way of showing it,” Y/n muttered. “We just…fight all the time.”

“She just... she says stupid things when she’s pissed off,” Olga said, a sad smile on her face. “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that she’d do anything for you. 

Y/n blinked quickly, trying to fight the stinging in her eyes. “She's annoying, though.”

“Yeah,” Olga chuckled lightly. “She’s Alexia. Being annoying is part of the package–it’s her charm.”

Y/n let out a small, tired smile.

“I’ve already talked to her,” Olga said more seriously. “But if you want, I can give her the same lecture again in front of you.” 

Olga sat close to Y/n, her hands caressing her scalp. Y/n let her do it. It felt good. Comforting.

“I would love that more than anything,” Y/n said teasingly, but Olga knew her and could tell Y/n still wasn’t okay. 

Alexia’s words had stung her– badly.

“Do you want me to go?” Olga asked softly, her finger still running gently through Y/n’s hair. “Or to stay? It’s up to you. Alexia’s sleeping on the couch either way.”

Y/n smiled at Olga.

She thought about saying no, about curling back into her own thoughts and just…trying to get back on track on her own. But decided against it.

“You can stay…if you want to,” Y/n mumbled, changing her gaze from Olga to the mattress. “Only if you don't mind tough.”

“I would love to stay here with you, cariño.” Olga shifted her position so she could get more comfortable, her back against the headboard while Y/n lay by her side, her hands never leaving Y/n’s hair.

It was quiet. Y/n liked quiet–except if it was with a certain Portuguese girl–but here with Olga, it felt comfortable, almost motherly. 

Y/N's breathing slowed, and she felt her eyes heavier and a slight pain behind them. Y/n let herself fall asleep.

She heard Olga saying something, but she couldn’t remember it when she woke up the next day.

..

Notes: taglist on the comments. Let me know if you want to be added and if you don't want to be part of it anymore!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

MASTERLIST

PART 1

[alternate-real-ities]

Research Report: Subject J - Asian Flu

Prepared by: Dr. Amara Patel & Dr. Liam Chen

These diary entries, obtained through confidential sources, detail the personal experiences and transformations of a young man identified only as "Jake" who has been unknowingly infected with the recently emerged Asian Flu (AF). His accounts provide invaluable firsthand insights into the virus's effects on its host, spanning from early symptoms to advanced stages. Thus, with these entries, we aim to better understand the virus's effects and timeline.

Diary Entries:

Dear diary,

I woke up feeling a bit off today, but nothing major. Probably just another case of the common cold going around. I didn't let it stop me from starting my day as usual - working on my laptop at home while sipping coffee. My muscles were kinda sore too, but I thought it was just from my workout yesterday.

I did notice something strange though - when I caught my reflection in the mirror, my pecs looked a bit bigger than usual. Probably just my imagination, right? They're not exactly massive to begin with on my scrawny frame. But hey, maybe I'm finally making some progress at the gym!

Anyway, enough about me and my silly feelings. I'm going to bed early tonight. hopefully I'll feel more like myself tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Woke up today feeling even better than yesterday! I breezed through my work and couldn't wait to get back to the gym. When I stepped into the locker room, a few guys checked me out appreciatively. Normally that would make me blush, but now it just gave me this weird rush of confidence.

At first, I thought the gym machines felt a bit too easy today. Like my body was used to working at higher intensities than I realized. And why were my pecs tingling so much? Probably just a funny nerve thing, no biggie.

When I got home, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror and… holy shit… are my muscles bigger? Like, way bigger than they should be after one intense workout. Also, I didn't look as pale as I usually do?

This can't be real - something's going on, I just don't know what it is… Hopefully, I'll have more time to think about it tomorrow.

Dear diary,

Okay, so something is seriously wrong with me but I can't put my finger on it.

I can't stop sweating, even when I'm just sitting around doing nothing! My clothes are always soaked and I stink like a damn animal in heat... And don't even get me started on my fucking pecs - they're so sensitive right now. Like every brush of fabric against them sends a jolt straight to my dick.

I called in sick to work today, couldn't handle trying to make sense of all those spreadsheets and emails. It's like everyone's talking in a foreign language now, I just don't get it no more. I keep telling myself this is all stress-related but deep down, I know something ain't right.

At the gym today, I kept having to increase the weights because anything less felt like a joke now. There were these two Asian guys there who kept glancing over at me admiringly between sets. Normally I'd be flattered but nervous about such obvious stares. Instead, I found myself flexing subtly in their direction, feeling this bizarre urge to show off my body.

And to top it all off, I've been having these crazy horny urges nonstop. Like, I'm constantly rock hard and leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet. It's embarrassing as hell. I ended up jerking off about three times today already but it did nothing to satisfy this insatiable hunger in my balls.

I'm scared… I don't know what's happening to me. Maybe this is all just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. Please.

Dear diary,

Fuck… what's happening to me? I'm struggling to type this entry because my fingers feel too thick and clumsy on the keyboard.

I went back to the gym again today because I couldn't stay away, even though part of me knew something was seriously off. The Asian guys from yesterday were there again and this time… fuck… I walked up to them and started chatting like it was the most natural thing in the world. Talking about protein shakes, the best ways to sculpt chest muscles, shit I wouldn't have given a second thought to before.

They kept touching my arms admiringly as we talked, marveling at how fast I must be growing. And I fucking liked it. Craved more of their attention and praise. We ended up in the locker room together…

I'm not proud of what happened next but I couldn't control myself. I was too drunk on this new sense of power and desire coursing through my body. The next thing I knew, we were all naked, touching each other, moaning like animals…

I can't think straight anymore either. It's like all the smart stuff is leaking outta my head and being replaced with nothing bro.

And the smells… everything smells so much stronger now. My own stink, sweat and musk, it's so intense!

I'm losing control here diary… I feel like I'm turning into one of those dumb gym bro stereotypes and it scares the everloving shit outta me. I almost can't recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

Tomorrow, I'll go see my doctor to finally understand what's going on.

Yo diary, it's your boy Jake and lemme tell ya, today was fuckin' EPIC dude! Like, the most awesomest day ever since this crazy shit started happening to me.

Woke up feelin' like a million bucks, muscles all twitchy and ready to dominate. I hit the gym real quick, just a lil warm-up ya know? And oh man, did I catch some looks! All those bros were starin' at my gains, probably wishin' they had a physique like mine hehe.

After that, I decided to take my rock hard bod for a walk in the park. Felt good to let the sunshine warm up my bronzed skin and show off these sick pecs. I was strutting real confident-like, just basking in all the attention from thirsty bitches and dudes.

Then, get this diary… I bumped into this super cute lil twink at the park! He was practically drooling when he saw my massive package tentin' in my shorts. I couldn't resist, had to show him what a real man feels like down there haha.

We found a lil spot behind some bushes and I bent that boy over and gave it to him HARD, diary. Pounded his tight boyclit so good he was screaming for more. Fucked him so deep he'll be tasting my cock for days! Blew the biggest load right up in his guts too, hah!

I'm gonna hit the gym again later for some more gains, maybe see if I can find another thirsty boycunt to bust in after. Life is fuckin' great diary!

Analysis:

Based on Jake's diary entries, we can confirm the progression of AF symptoms aligns with our current understanding: rapid muscle growth, cognitive decline, personality changes, and increased sexual aggression. His accounts also highlight the virus's insidious nature, as he remains largely unaware and unconcerned about his transformations.

To better understand the virus's transmission dynamics and long-term effects on secondary hosts, it is imperative that we identify and locate the twink (hereafter referred to as "Subject TW") with whom Jake engaged in sexual activities at the park. There is a high probability that Subject TW has been infected with the Asian Flu through this encounter.

Locating and monitoring this new potential subject could provide crucial insights into the virus's sexual transmission rates, incubation periods for secondary infections, and further manifestation of symptoms in diverse hosts.

This final surveillance footage from a concealed camera in a bustling city gym captures Subject J (center frame) engaging with his newly acquired "bros". This clip represents the most current documentation of Jake's behaviours and physical state, obtained while maintaining strict contamination avoidance protocols. The timestamp indicates this recording is approximately three weeks after his initial diary entries.

Caution: Viewers are strongly advised not to approach or engage with Subject J or his associates without proper protective measures in place, as their sweat and other bodily fluids pose significant infection risks.

Please direct any inquiries or resources needed to pursue this lead to Dr. Patel or Dr. Chen.

[End Report]

[cheralith]

feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, is implied to have smaller hands, smoking, roommates au, implied aged-up characters (20s)

hi here are some more a345!tabieitaken roommates au headcanons, this time they involve more of reader :] part one here

karasu

during the warmer weather, when you and him make a habit of going to the farmer's market, there's an elderly shopkeeper that sells some peaches who had once complimented on how lovely of a couple you and him are, that you remind her of her and her late husband. feeling awkward and guilt-ridden, not having the heart to break it to her that you guys weren't actually a couple, you both laugh nervously and thank her. from then on, she gives you and karasu free peaches whenever she sees you both together and you have to pretend that you are for that fleeting moment you and him are a young couple in love within her presence.

even when he's just at home, he often still waxes his hair. he eventually lets it down and breathe properly for the weekends when you had one time smiled and complimented how nice he looks with his natural hair.

a smoker but only when he gets stressed. he tried to hide it from you when you first moved in, ashamed of his coping method, but you had told him you indulged in one or two as well from time to time since your work often put you in stressful scenarios as well. does the cigarette kiss with you when you and him smoke on the balcony together.

speaking of which, you indirectly kiss him the most. you use the same spoon he'll use when he offers you a bite of his food, drink from the same shotglass, and use the same chopsticks that he'll use to gently place food in your mouth.

when you and him open up to each other more, he enjoys hearing you talk; your voice is soothing to him (as it's canon that he has a voice fetish). sometimes may ask you to read to him if you're just lounging around and catching up on a book.

(per last hc post) he tries to teach you bass one time, but you make him nervous just by standing so close to him that he barely survives the first lesson when he has to stay behind you and help move your hands accordingly. he tries so hard not to notice how smaller your fingers are in comparison to his.

you always buy a jar of kimchi for him when you're out grocery shopping, something that he appreciates very much so as he often eats rice and whatever meal he has with kimchi.

yukimiya

loves to cook with you. he always sends you some recipe he saw online and asking if you'd like to try it out. all you'd have to do is respond yes and wow magically the ingredients have appeared before you in the loft... he'd love an extra hand to help him with all of this perhaps 👀

you are the only person that he'll ever let borrow his clothes when he found you struggling to piece together an outfit one time. had said to you that you can pick out whatever you like from his closet if you so wanted to and when you do, he feels this weird sense of ... pride? seeing you in his clothes just makes him feel giddy, knowing that your fashion senses often correlate with each other.

however, he is also not afraid to be honest and tell you upfront that your outfit may just not be right for the day if he thinks so. but you appreciate this—his honesty is refreshing.

sometimes visits you in the office if he has an upcoming shoot that he has to go to his agency's headquarters for, where you work. maybe will drop off a lunch or a coffee/tea pick-me-up he got on the way. your co-workers often tease you for it, asking you if you're secretly dating one of the models to your embarrassment. ("that can land you an hr case, y'know," an intern had joked.)

the most modest out of the three, but there will be times when some of his skin shows and it's like seeing a victorian's ankle for the first time. especially in regards to his legs, when he wears shorts, there's just this hug that surrounds his thighs so securely that the muscles can sometimes be visible through the fabric.

often gets you a small, yet artfully arrayed bouquet of flowers from the local flower shop just because "he felt like it." always feels like such a delight for him when he finds them the morning after in a vase with flowers sitting somewhere in the apartment.

otoya

mentioned this in an earlier post, but he'll often curate some monthly-ish playlists for you with songs he think you'll take a liking to. helps you introduce yourself to more genres and more artists, though he's already quite impressed with how knowledgeable you are with music.

lets you borrow his good headphones—the one where the bass booms perfectly and the melodies sound more crisp to let you fully enjoy the music.

when you first came to the loft, wow did he try his hardest to impress you. walked around shirtless even in cold weather and would try to subtly flex his muscles. often would help you grab things that were above you even if you could easily reach it ("let me help you with that, babe." "go put five bucks in the douchebag jar.")

second-best dressed next to yukki. often will post a fit check on his insta and if you're ever around, he'll insist on capturing his photo with you in it. it both serves as him flexing he has a cute girl by his side and may just boil the jealousies of his side chicks. he won't tag you though, aware of the other people that may ask who you are if they slide up (also because he likes the attention to be on him)

touchy. likes to put his head in your lap during movie nights so you can play with his hair (he uses men's 5-in-1 shampoo, how the hell is it so soft and healthy?!) or will "accidentally" lean against you on the couch if he's really zoning in on some video games.

gets a bit upset when you befriend his hook-ups. he'll sometimes wake up to you and whatever girl he had the night prior chatting and laughing about at the table as if you've been best friends for forever and can't help but feel disappointment for whatever reason.

a/n: @okkotsuus for u my dearest 💐!

[journalivm]

Hey there! So this is what I don't get. You're sitting pretty (or I guess not because you talked about everything working against you?)

But you're coming from where you're coming from, talking about "things are good here, let yourself want good things". Yeah, most of us (on this website) do let ourselves want good things. We've been working for them. That's why we complain about the systems in place that keep us from good things.

Making nihilistic memes and funny/rant posts about said systems doesn't mean we've given up on acquiring a lifestyle of classroom learning for smaller sums of money. It just means we're tired. So when you talk about the systems in your area being better than our systems, it just sucks. I'm happy for you having access to the things you're passionate about.

But you saying "uwu" on the "uwu" website isn't changing anything. I imagine your message may have given some people some hope, seeing that things like that are techinically attainable if we keep fighting for them? But it was just weird. You said "pls pls pls normalize access to education"

We vote. We get involved. I do. My family and friends definitely do. We stay educated and we care about these things as much as we are physically capable of. And as you mentioned, things have not gotten more accessible or affordable. I and all my older siblings are still paying off student debt.

So yes, if I thought you were capable of "fighting capitalism by yourself or whatever" (keen insight btw) I would have said that :)

Again, what I don't understand about your message--which even mentioned struggling to maintain the cost of living--is that you posted it to a website with a demographic whose opinions are very similar to your own. If you need to call me a prick and puff out your chest, go off.

But you could also do the things you seemed to assume that none of us in other parts of the world are doing to make your dream of cheap college courses a reality. Instead of talking about life through your personal lens, which is as limited as anyone else's.

Alternate universe where I literally just to go to school forever (for free) so I can just learn about art and literature and history and languages for 100 years. No job skills. No credit requirements. No student loans. Just learning.

[factual-fantasy]

(ᴋᴘ-ғɪ ᴍᴏʙɪʟᴇ ʟɪɴᴋ) ⁽ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵖᵒˢᵗˢ ᵐᵒᵇᶦˡᵉ ˡᶦⁿᵏ⁾

💫FAQ below the keep reading💫

(I intend to return to this post frequently and update the FAQ whenever new frequent questions arrive :}} )

Do you take commissions?: I do not atm, but I've been seriously thinking about it. 😅

Do you take drawing suggestions?: At the moment, I do not. Sorry!

Why don't you like fanart?: The simple answer is it just makes me very uncomfortable. It feels icky when someone I don't know draws something I designed without asking me. I get that most artists love fanart and don't see it that way/feel that way about it.. but I do. And even if people ask for permission first, I just like to keep my works to myself..

How can we show support if you don't like fanart?: You can support me over on ko-fi! :)) Or, just send comments! In what ever form they make take. Reblogs, asks, direct comments, tags?? Which ever way you choose! My absolute favorite part of posting on Tumblr is reading all the responses. Whether its a huge paragraph or a simple "Loved this! 💖" It always makes me smile to see people comment! :}}}

What drawing program do you use?: FireAlpaca! Its a free program and is easy for beginners to learn, yet also has a lot of tools available for the pros! Though be warned. It can be a bit buggy at times and has some weird quirks you're gonna have to learn how to work around.. 😅

Why are your sonas hands bloody and bandaged?: When I was first designing my sona, it looked kind'a plain.. I wanted to add something to my sonas hands, but I wasn't sure what.. at the time, my hands were covered in Band-Aids due to dry skin and cat scratches. Looking at my patched hands I thought "Hey! My sona could have these edgy bandaged hands! They can represent my "artists hands" and my love for angst as well!" and so that's what I drew <XDD

Do you have any other socials?: I have a ko-fi and a YouTube channel, but I haven't posted to it in a few years now 💀 other than that, Tumblr and ko-fi are the only places I post my artwork to! :}

When will you get back to your FNAF AU?: No idea tbh.. Currently, I am battling some health problems that are keeping me away from my big PC. So working on my FNAF AU isn't something I feel like I can do right now.. hopefully I can get past this health trial, get back to my PC with all my FNAF files and get back to the AU soon.. <:/

When will you get back to Octonauts?: I will not be coming back. At least not publicly on this blog.. I had some very uncomfortable experiences with the fandom that persist to this day and so I decided to just step back and leave the fandom. (See this post for more details)

[aettuddae]

business matter — 143. i choose you and me, religiously.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev

[written chapter]

23:57.

karina found herself running through the people who had attended that party.

end of the year. after a peculiar 2024, full of surprises and new people, of different emotions and discoveries, they were finally just 3 minutes away from a new year. as was customary, people all over the world were throwing parties to celebrate the beginning of 2025 with their family and friends, and for the celebrities in seoul there was also a selection to attend. among the options was the party that rosé from blackpink had organized on the top floor of a luxurious building whose terrace overlooked the center of the city.

the entire korean entertainment elite was there, from top actors to models to members of the biggest bands you could imagine. it was the party among parties. but at first, karina had other plans. she couldn't go back to her family because of work, but she still wanted to spend a quiet night at the apartment with her roommates. and that's what they were going to do,

until she found out that serim would be at rosé's party.

of course, serim would go wherever jennie kim told her to go. serim loved going to parties. she loved being around people, socializing, dancing. karina didn't dislike it when it came to her, but it certainly got her blood boiling with that quality of serim's. she didn't like her to be perceived. that's why when they talked about their plans for the end of the year, serim was hesitant to tell her. it's not that she wanted to hide things from her, she just wanted to avoid the eye rolling and sour comments for a couple more days until she eventually told the blackhaired about her plans.

listen, jimin is not crazy,

she just has serious jealousy issues,

and she's obsessed with jang serim.

when they decided to spend the night at the apartment and welcome the new year quietly and together, the aespa members already knew that the plan hung by a thread. that thread was whatever serim decided to do that night. as soon as jimin told them that jennie was taking jang to the rosé party, giselle was already texting the hostess to get her to put them on the guest list.

serim didn't mind at all. jimin was busy and every second they could spend together was gold to jang. she loved spending time with the younger girl. all night, they had been glued together like gum, drinking, chatting, flirting and dancing to the music. they were so into their own world that none of their friends thought it was weird that they disappeared for an hour and left them to make friends with each other while they had their make out session in a dark, secluded area of the terrace.

but as punishment for abandoning them, as soon as they returned with their companions, aeri, minjeong and yizhuo had forced jimin to go with them to get some air outside. winter was dizzy, while the rest were all sore and tired from dancing. they just wanted to take a break and get some fresh air, and the blackhaired had to accept it even though it was torture for her to be even two centimeters away from serim, who stayed on the dance floor with her friends.

but it was okay, jimin understood that part of forcing her members to follow her to a party when her plans were quite different had its requirements. she patiently stood there chatting with her bandmates and waiting for them to pull themselves together to go back inside, while minjeong downed a bottle of water to regain her five senses.

she was calm until she turned on her phone and saw the time.

23:57.

three minutes to new year's. she began to hurry the others back inside, where rosé's voice could already be heard through a microphone preparing to count down to midnight. they passed through the crowd quietly until they reached where serim was supposed to be with her friends, but no one was there.

23:58.

jimin turned on her phone. "we accompanied jennie to the bathroom." read a text from serim from 5 minutes ago.

the girl told her friends that she was going to look for the oldest and without waiting for an answer, she ran out, pushing through the people and making her way to the bathroom area. she entered the women's one, but there was no one there. they weren't there anymore.

she searched her phone for the woman's contact and called her. she could hear little because of the loudness of the hostess's voice over the speakers and the whispering of the large number of people at the party, but she finally managed to hear that they were on the terrace because they wanted to see the fireworks. when she hung up, she sent a quick message to giselle to tell them to go to the terrace and again, she hurried upstairs.

23:59.

she had to be serim's new year's kiss, she couldn't miss it. the elevator was busy so she took the stairs, which were not easy to climb as she was wearing heels and moving in such a hurry.

10.

everyone started shouting when they heard that the countdown had begun. jimin was on the terrace, but although she searched through the crowd, she couldn't find serim. she kept wandering around the area, her heart pounding and her breathing hectic. she looked worried and upset.

5.

she passed through a large group that was blocking her view and so she appeared at the front, almost at the edge where the wall that kept people from falling was located. as she was spat out from the crowd, she finally spotted the girl's back in the distance and hurried toward her.

3.

she ran towards serim.

2.

she reached where she was and hurriedly touched her waist, signaling her to turn towards her.

1.

serim turned to see who was pinned to her torso, turning in the arms of the younger who was visibly exhausted and trying to catch her breath as she looked up at her smiling. serim slipped her arm over the younger's body to wrap her in her hold and rest her hand on her waist while her other hand was busy with a drink.

"happy new year, baby." she said very close to her face so she could hear her amidst the shouts of congratulations from all around and the sound of fireworks.

"happy new year, my namu." she replied glad that she was able to get there in time to tell her.

jimin lifted her hands that were resting around serim's waist, sliding them up the older girl's body until she was holding her face between her fingers and pulling her close until they could connect their lips in their first kiss of the year under the moonlight in front of the fireworks show in the sky.

"it's the first year we've started together." serim observed as they pulled apart.

"it's the first of many." assured the younger girl as her hand caressed her opposite's cheek. "i thought i wouldn't get here in time to be your first kiss of the year." she stretched her neck slightly to reach up to leave a peck on the opposite's nose. "i'm always running back to you." she smiled sideways, accompanying her flirtatious comment.

"as you should." serim laughed softly and wrinkled her nose playfully to tease her. "come here." she indicated leaning down to kiss her again.

after the arrival of the new year and the end of the fireworks show the party continued, causing most of the people who were on the terrace waiting to see the colorful flames in the sky to start going down to the lower floor to return to the celebration. serim was leaning back against the edge with karina in her arms who had her hands glued to her face caressing and pampering her, so lost in each other and their conversation that they were practically alone on top of the building and that even their friends had returned downstairs.

"you know, yves wished ningie a happy new year." commented the blackhaired causing the older girl to grimace in surprise.

"what can i say." she looked up with mock pride. "she's a gentlewoman." she shrugged jokingly.

"yizhuo can do better." she refuted, shaking her head.

"better than sooyoung? impossible."

"she's a little weird." she furrowed her eyebrows pretending to be worried. "i hope she'll take care of my baby." she closed her eyes in grief.

"she'll take care of her." she assured her. "don't worry." she ran a lock of jimin's hair tucking it behind her ear. "she's a good girl."

"and you?" she looked at her expectantly.

"me?" she pointed her index finger at herself. "i'm awesome."

"no, idiot." she slapped her shoulder in embarrassment. "if you're going to take care of me." she elaborated.

"oh." she mumbled after understanding what she meant. "of course i'll take care of you." she affirmed, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"if you cheat on me i'll kill you." she looked into her eyes seriously.

"all right."

"i am serious, jang serim, i will kill you." she reiterated with a dark gaze, swearing every word.

"as if i have eyes for anyone else." she cocked her head to the side with narrowed eyes judging her, incredulous. "i would never hurt you." she promised.

"you better." she pointed her finger at her accusingly.

"either way," jimin turned her head abruptly, looking at her with eyes wide in surprise at the very idea that she might regret what she just promised. "you have to be my girlfriend for me to cheat on you." she raised her hands in the air innocently.

"no, sorry, serim." she pulled away, putting a hand between them, stopping her words. "your love life dies in me." she laughed sourly. "since we said 'i love you' to each other for the first time, you are doomed to me." she warned.

"what do you mean by that?" she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "that you don't feel the need to be my girlfriend?"

"you're already my girlfriend." she copied the action of intertwining her arms over her chest, defiantly.

"no." she contradicted her. "we never established it, so we're not."

"are you saying you're single?" she clenched her fist.

"i'm saying you should ask me to be your girlfriend." she explained. "look." she turned and with her hand pointed toward the city. "we have the best view in seoul, the night is starry." she walked up to the younger girl and put her hands on her waist, trapping her in her arms. "it's new year." she murmured. "you look beautiful." she commented, earning a smile from jimin that came with a roll of her eyes at the compliment. "you love me and i love you." she added.

"and why don't you ask me?"

"no." she broke contact, pulling away and giving her a defensive look. "make amends for your mistakes." she claimed.

jimin sighed. serim was right. after so many months of doing things wrong here was her chance to have what she wanted most in the world, to have serim. the terrace was empty, it was a moment that belonged only to them. the sky was splendid, it was a beautiful night, a cool wind was blowing, but it wasn't cold, and it was a new year.

new year, new beginnings.

jimin smiled sideways, an idea popped into her head, and she approached serim. she took her hands in hers and looked into her eyes. "don't laugh at what i'm going to do." she took a breath of air.

"oh my god, you're going to sing?" the mere thought caused serim to be unable to contain a giggle that escaped her lips.

"namu!" she punched her arm gently, nagging at her.

"sorry, it's just that i imagined you asking me to be your girlfriend while you sing up." she shook her head trying to erase the idea.

"i write you a song and this is how you treat me." she bit her lower lip trying to contain the smitten grimace that was blossoming on her.

when the funny moment dissipated, they both looked seriously into each other's eyes again, to which jimin took the opportunity to clear her throat and catch her breath again to start singing a song.

"cause maybe, baby..." she began softly keeping the tenderness in the way she looked at serim. "i just wanna do you, do you..." she sang in the highest pitched voice. "do you wanna do me? do me?" she moved her shoulders up and down to the rhythm of the song and with her finger pointed at the older one. "underneath the moonlight, the moonlight." she pointed to the sky. "baby, maybe-" the girl sang excitedly, moving more and more with the song.

"stop, stop, stop." she interrupted her in horror. "stop it, dylan." she identified the modern family song she was singing. "i can't believe you ruined it like that." she covered her face in embarrassment.

jimin would have refuted her disappointment, but she was too busy choking on the laughter her own joke had generated, bending over her body trying to catch her breath. serim could only look at her skeptically, unable to understand how she had found it so funny.

"oh my god." the younger girl pulled herself together, straightening up and turning back to face her partner still letting out the occasional laugh. "how does it feel to love such a funny person?"

"i could leave you in this very moment."

"not true." she grabbed her face between her hands and pulled her to her to leave a chaste kiss on her lips. "you love me too much." she reminded as she broke apart. "this time for real." she positioned herself again, taking in puffs of air to calm her fit of laughter.

"no, i don't want to anymore." serim shook her head sideways in denial.

"yes, come on." she struggled to take her hands as the older one pulled them away from her grasp. "come here." she tugged on her grip to pull her into her personal space.

silence reigned again and though serim was unsure as to the direction the moment would take, this time jimin was solemn, focused, she was looking at her like someone looking at a shooting star while making a wish. it was that kind of tenderness, that kind of desire.

"so excuse me forgetting..." she mumbled, she wasn't intoning yet, but rather speaking the lyrics. "but these things i do," she let out shyly. "you see i've forgotten..." she raised her voice so the words could be heard more clearly. "if they're green or they're blue." a little more confidently, she began to sing the sentences. "anyway the thing is, what i really mean..." she released serim's hands to wrap herself around her torso. "yours are the sweetest eyes i've ever seen..."

now that she was singing decisively, serim had let her guard down and was lost in the way jimin was watching her. she could see in the way she was moving that she was nervous, that she was embarrassed to open up like that, and she appreciated knowing that she was still doing it to express her feelings for her in some way. she wasn't used to being sung to, so she didn't know how to react, but she understood, they were both artists and if there was anything they were in love with apart from each other, it was music. jimin's voice fascinated her, she could listen to it for hours.

"and you can tell everybody..." as the younger one sang, they both swayed to the beat. "this is your song." serim smiled tenderly at that part of the lyrics. "it may be quite simple, but," serim's hands rested on jimin's neck. "now that it's done." jimin raised her touch to the woman's nape to push it to bring their foreheads together. "i hope you don't mind... i hope you don't mind..." she lowered her voice so that if there was anyone else in the place they couldn't hear, only serim. "that i put down in words..."

"how wonderful life is..." serim joined in and now they were singing in unison. "while you're in the world." they finished together.

they both stayed in that intimate position, one against the other, holding themselves and dancing alone on the terrace in the new year for a moment, serim closed her eyes to enjoy the moment and jimin kept them open because she wanted to see her, she always wanted to see her, she wanted to be able to appreciate serim's beauty for the rest of her life.

"elton john?" serim inquired when they both stopped, lifting her eyelids so she could look at her, her forehead still pressed against the opposite one.

"moulin rouge." she corrected. "it's the only musical i know any songs from." she confessed. "and you know..." she put on a confident expression. "my girl likes musicals."

serim scoffed at her attitude. "yeah." she nodded in agreement. "your girl likes musicals."

"my girl?" she repeated. "so you agree to be my girlfriend?"

"you haven't asked me yet."

"jang serim." she called out to her and wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed against each other, their faces so close she wanted to kiss her as soon as possible. "will you be my girlfriend?" she asked, her eyes sparkling and her heart beating faster than she would have imagined.

"no."

"what?" she exclaimed offended and abruptly turned away from the oldest. "serim." she watched her as the named laughed frantically at her reaction. "serim, be my girlfriend." she commanded. "serim." she quickly approached her and began to push her arm repeatedly as if asking her to stop teasing. "namu." she herself couldn't hold back her laughter at seeing the contrary so amused, but still she kept hitting her gently to make her stop. "hey." she wanted to grab her arm to pull her closer, but serim wouldn't let her, so they started to struggle. "be my girlfriend." she reiterated exerting force trying to win serim over. "love me." she jumped on the spot anxiously because she couldn't stand the joke the older girl was playing on her. "namu!" she squealed shrilly.

"okay, okay." she raised her arms in the air, thus giving way for jimin to latch on to her waist. "i love you." she assured. "and i do want to be your girlfriend." she wrapped the girl in her grip.

"really?" she raised her eyebrow dubiously.

"really." she affirmed. "from now on i'm all yours."

jimin let out a little squeal of excitement and jumped repeatedly on the spot to then pounce on the older girl and catch her in their first kiss as an official couple.

"puppy!" a shout echoed through serim's apartment after the sound of the door closing.

it could have been just one person, other than that jang recognized the voice instantly, so she rushed out of her room to find her girlfriend in the living. she ran towards her catching her in a tight hug and lifting her slightly off the floor as she held her.

"hi, baby." she leaned forward with her eyes closed waiting patiently for jimin to give her a kiss and shaking her body slightly once she did.

"hello, namu." she replied after kissing her then continuing to fill her face with pecks.

"how are you, my love?" asked serim as she watched the girl arrange her things on the table.

"i'm fine." she answered in a good mood. "happy to see you." she gave her a smile and dropped forward being caught in serim's arms to kiss her lips again. "is sejeong here?" she straightened up and inspected the apartment looking for her girlfriend's roommate.

"no." she denied, rounding the kitchen island to face the younger girl. "she's in her apartment because she's starting the move back in there." she reported.

"is she leaving already?" she inquired arranging the things she had brought with her.

"she's been living here for a while." she recalled. "she thinks i'm better now, so she's leaving."

"that's good." she put her elbows on the table and leaned back on her arms. "i do think you are better too." she agreed. "it makes me happy to see you like this."

serim smiled shyly. she had been eating better, at first it was because of sejeong's help controlling her at meal times, but lately it was of her own free will. she was happier, she had even been smoking a little less and sleeping at reasonable times. jimin stretched her arm across the counter to give her cheek a caress.

"i brought you a present." she announced excitedly.

"presents!" she celebrated.

the younger girl took a bag and put it between both of them, opened it, reached inside and from it pulled out a small plant with heart-shaped leaves, lifted it in the air and showed it proudly, painting a big smile on her face.

"it's a plant!" happily introduced the blackhaired.

"i see!" she said wryly.

"don't you like it?" she pouted and set the plant down on the counter.

"no, love." jimin dropped her shoulders in disappointment. "i love it!" she exclaimed and then picked up the pot to begin to inspect it. her passion for gardening making kicking in instantly, making the girl pry at the soil and the state of the leaves.

"do you really like it?" she received no response and that was exactly what she needed because she understood that her hyperfixation was acting up and that was a sign that she was excited about the gift. "namu." she called out to her softly with a smile.

"what, my love?" she replied without looking up from the gift.

"do you like it?" she leaned over the counter looking at her with enamored eyes.

"it fascinates me." she raised her eyes to finally connect with hers. "i didn't have one of these." she lunged forward to press a kiss to her lips. "thank you."

"it's a hoya kerly." she reported trying to remember the plant's proper name.

"hoya kerrii." she corrected amused, looking at her tenderly at her mistake.

"that." she dropped her head. "i don't know anything about plants." she covered her face in embarrassment.

"my love." she laughed and took her hands to remove them from her face. "you don't need to know about plants just because i like them." she tried to calm her down. "i'll teach you and you'll learn."

"but i wanted to present it well because it has a special meaning." she explained frustrated.

"it's the plant of the heart." she deduced.

"yes." she confirmed. "it represents love and harmony." she added. "i bought it for us.

"really?"

"yes." she nodded. "i want us to take care of it together." she looked at the pot. "let it be like our love sapling." she finished, her cheeks turning red at the confession.

"how corny you are." a smile broke out on her face as she watched her blush. "i love you."

"i love you too."

"and we're going to be very careful with our baby." she pointed to the plant. "for a long time." she walked around the table back to where jimin was. "what shall we name it?" she took her face in her hands.

"i have a name in mind." she admitted. "but it's even cheesier." she hid her face in serim's chest.

"tell me." she encouraged. "we're in love and happy, we have permission to be cheesy." she reassured.

"canada." she announced without removing her face from the security provided by the older.

"how?"

"canada." she repeated, this time speaking to her face.

"why canada?"

"because so!yoon is our favorite artist." she explained, referring to the singer's song.

"i like it." she agreed. "i only want you close to me." she quoted the song's lyrics.

"you're the one for me, half of my body, half of my mind." the younger girl continued.

"canada." she assured.

"she's our love."

"and we're going to take care of it for a long time." guaranteed serim. "together."

"together."

— the end.

#

[a/n: thanks to everyone who read. this was one hell of a ride and it wouldn't have been possible without all of you. ♡]

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @nwjnsloona @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @yizhuobberi @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @chaenniefirst @minfolio @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer @vivilvr

[emmiesoverthemoon]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he’s so boyfriend: two

Pairings: choi seunghyun x reader / kwon jiyong x reader / kang daesung x reader

Word Count: 7,899

Summary: just cute little scenarios between u and each guy, the second edition! i got a little carried away this time,,, enjoy!!! part one here !

note: again, i purposely didnt include taeyang because he’s married and it felt weird to me so sorry about that! pls forgive me🙏🏻

you get stuck in the rain without an umbrella

jiyong: cheesy cliché

The first cold droplets splatter against your skin, a slow drizzle turning into a full-on downpour as Jiyong tugs you by the wrist, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Come on," he grins, "what kind of lovers would we be if we didn’t have a dramatic rain moment?"

"You’re ridiculous," you laugh, half-heartedly resisting, but he's already dragging you into the open, past the overhang of the café where you’d been taking shelter. The rain hits instantly, cool and shocking, drenching through your clothes in seconds.

Jiyong doesn’t care. His arms spread out like he’s drinking in the sky itself, hair slicked to his forehead, his white shirt clinging to his frame, becoming slightly see through—which did not go unnoticed by you. He looks like he belongs in a movie—some reckless, lovestruck fool dancing in the middle of a storm, eyes twinkling as he turns to you.

You shake your head, exasperated but grinning. "You're actually crazy."

"And yet," he steps closer, looping his arms around your waist, "you love me."

You roll your eyes, but it’s true.

The world fades into soft, grey static, the rain a gentle rhythm on pavement, against your skin, the chill soaking through to your bones. Jiyong sways you, humming some old love song you don’t recognize, his laughter mixing with the music of the storm. He spins you once, then twice, and you go along with it, both of you slipping and sliding on wet pavement, giggling like idiots.

Then, he stops. Looks at you like you're the only thing worth seeing. His hands cup your face, fingers damp and chilled, but his lips—when he finally presses them against yours—are warm, sweet, lingering like he wants to stay in this moment forever.

It’s perfect.

At least, until reality smacks you both in the face.

Jiyong pulls back, blinking through the rain. “Wait—how are we getting home?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh my god, your car—”

The two of you whip around to stare at his sleek, very dry sports vehicle parked under the streetlamp. As if on cue, a fat droplet slides off the tip of your nose.

Jiyong curses. “We’re gonna soak the seats.”

You groan. “We should’ve thought this through.”

But then he’s laughing—loud, carefree, absolutely unapologetic—and you can’t help but join in. The two of you bolt for the car, jumping into the seats with a wet splat. Jiyong winces as he grips the wheel, his soaked clothes sticking to the leather.

You glance at him, half-scolding, half-amused. "You and your movie moments."

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Worth it.”

And as the car fills with the scent of rain and the sound of your shared, breathless laughter, you think—yeah. Maybe it was.

daesung: the noble sacrifice

The afternoon rain had started softly, a gentle pitter-patter against the windows of the café. But the moment you and Daesung stepped outside, it was like the sky couldn’t hold back anymore. The downpour began, soaking everything in an instant, and you squealed, pulling your jacket closer around yourself.

Daesung, ever the charmer, paused and dramatically looked at you, his eyes widening. “You’re cold,” he stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, no kidding, Daesung. It's raining cats and dogs out here,” you quipped, pulling your collar higher to shield yourself from the storm.

Without a second thought, Daesung grinned, took off his hoodie, and threw it over your head. "Here, wear this. It'll keep you warm!"

You blinked in surprise. "You’re giving me your hoodie?"

“Yes!” he said with such conviction, as if he had just solved all your problems. “It’s the most romantic thing I could do for you right now.” He puffed his chest out proudly, clearly thinking he had pulled off something dramatic and sweet.

You looked at him, blinking in confusion. “Daesung, it’s a little too big for me. I’m literally drowning in this thing…”

“Exactly! It’s cozy!” He smiled, oblivious to the fact that you were now swimming in fabric, practically a human tent.

“I can barely see through this thing,” you chuckled, your arms struggling to keep the oversized hoodie from dragging you down. But Daesung was so proud of his “romantic gesture” that you didn’t want to crush his excitement.

The rain continued to pour harder, soaking your hair, your shoes, and his hoodie, which was now weighed down with water. "Okay, Daesung, let’s be honest here," you said, laughing as you started to walk, “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the most practical choice…”

He looked down at the way the hoodie dripped water and then back up at you with the most earnest expression on his face. “No… no it wasn’t.”

And then, like a lightbulb moment, he grinned widely. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not fun!”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Daesung skipped into a nearby puddle, splashing water up to your knees. You gasped, stepping back. “Daesung!”

He threw his hands up in victory. “Splash fight, right now!”

You didn’t need another invitation. With a laugh, you jumped into the next puddle you saw, sending water flying in all directions. Daesung mirrored your moves, and soon, the two of you were splashing around like children, laughing at how ridiculous everything was.

“Who’s winning, huh?!” Daesung shouted between fits of laughter, his hoodie now thoroughly soaked and stuck to his body.

“You’re about to get drenched even more, Daesung!” you warned, trying to dodge his next splash.

“Not if I beat you to it!” He lunged, catching you by surprise with a gentle splash straight to your face.

You gasped dramatically, wiping your face, and then, grinning like a mischievous child, threw a full splash back at him. “Take that!”

By the time you both had thoroughly soaked each other, you could hardly keep up with the laughter, dripping wet and barely able to stand up straight from all the giggling.

“I swear,” you said between laughs, “this has to be the most ridiculous thing we’ve done.”

Daesung wiped water from his eyes, his cheeks flushed from the cold and the fun. “We’re pretty amazing, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, amazing,” you chuckled, now fully drenched but not caring one bit. “Just a bit impractical, though.”

“Well,” Daesung grinned, “the hoodie still looks cute on you. Even if it’s a bit too big.”

You nodded, still laughing. “That’s because I’m wearing your impractical hoodie, genius.”

He just smiled and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close despite the water soaking into both of you. “Worth it.”

seunghyun: nice and 'prepared'

The rain had caught you both off guard. You had barely made it out of the café before the skies opened up, and now you were both caught in a downpour with no umbrella in sight. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, shivering from the sudden chill.

Seunghyun, with his usual cool demeanor, looked over at you, eyes scanning the weather. Then, with a small sigh, he glanced at you with a sheepish smile. "I... may have left the umbrella in the car," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But hey, we’re here now."

You shot him a playful look. "Did you think this rain was going to hold off until we got back?" you teased, your voice full of amusement despite the situation.

Seunghyun raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his lips. "Hey, I was the one who checked the forecast this morning, okay? You can't blame me for forgetting one small detail."

The two of you stood there for a moment, both laughing at the irony of it all. Without missing a beat, Seunghyun grabbed your hand and started to jog in the direction of the car. "Alright, let's just make a run for it. We'll beat the rain."

You both ran, your feet splashing through puddles as the water soaked you from head to toe. Seunghyun stayed close, but in that classic Seunghyun way, he was still trying to stay cool about it—one hand casually holding yours, the other wiping his wet hair out of his face.

Halfway to the car, you started to laugh, the situation completely ridiculous but somehow perfect. “I can't believe we’re doing this," you said, breathless from both the running and the laughter.

“I can’t believe I forgot the umbrella,” Seunghyun responded, his voice tinged with mock annoyance, but the playful glint in his eye told you everything. "But hey, look on the bright side. It’ll be a great story to tell later."

As you both reached the car, laughing and dripping wet, Seunghyun opened the door for you, then paused to look at your soaked state. “Well,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and smirking, “at least we’re in this together.”

You couldn't help but smile, the day’s misadventures only making him more endearing. "Next time," you said with a grin, "you better bring the umbrella."

“Deal,” he said with a wink, pulling you into the car. "Next time, we’ll be dry. Hopefully."

locked in a small space

jiyong: seven minutes

You and Jiyong had somehow ended up stuck in a small, cramped pantry together. It wasn’t intentional, of course. Just a random series of events that had led to both of you being trapped in the tiny space, the door somehow locking behind you.

You leaned back against the only wall without shelving units, arms crossed, trying to make the best of the situation. "Well, this is... great," you said, laughing a little despite the light awkwardness. "Guess we’re stuck here for a bit."

Jiyong, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, the small, confined space seemed to only amuse him. He flashed that playful smirk of his, leaning in closer, and with a teasing glint in his eye, he gave you a seductive once-over.

"You know," he started, voice low and smooth, taking a step toward you, "this is like a movie 7 minutes in heaven situation, isn’t it?"

You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden change in attitude. “Jiyong, really?”

He took a step closer, his body pressed against yours now, and he leaned in even more. "I mean," he said, his voice practically a whisper, "you know what I can do in 7 minutes?" His eyes glinted with mischief as his hands brushed lightly against the edge of your sleeve.

You froze for a second, a little caught off guard by how close he suddenly was. The small space made everything feel just a bit more intimate, and Jiyong’s teasing, flirtatious energy only amplified the tension.

“Stop it,” you said, trying to sound serious, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

Jiyong chuckled softly, his hands now flush to your waist, holding you against him. “What?” he asked innocently, though there was nothing innocent about the way his eyes were locked onto yours. “I’m just making the most of the situation.”

You shook your head, but an embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You really know how to make the best of being in a tight spot, huh?"

Jiyong grinned mischeviously, his lips just inches from yours now, his teasing energy completely undeniable. “Tight spots are my specialty.”

seunghyun: closeness is most comfortable

You and Seunghyun had been in a rush earlier that day, trying to get everything done before the storm hit. But now, here you were—stuck in an elevator, and it didn’t seem like it was going anywhere anytime soon. The storm raged outside, the rain hammering against the metal walls, but inside the elevator, it was just the two of you.

Seunghyun, as usual, didn’t seem phased by the situation. He gave you a smile that was part mischievous, part carefree, as if this was just another little hiccup in your day. And, to be fair, it was.

“Well, since we’re stuck, might as well get comfortable,” he said, his tone entirely too casual, and before you could even respond, he lowered himself to sit against the back wall of the elevator with a sigh of contentment. Without missing a beat, he pulled you into his lap, settling you there like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked in surprise, but as always with Seunghyun, it didn’t take long to adjust. You were already used to his easy, affectionate nature, and the small space didn’t even faze him. He simply wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close with a lazy grin on his face.

“Seunghyun,” you started, trying to keep your voice serious, but it was hard when you could feel the warmth of his body, and he looked so comfortable already. “Is this really necessary?”

He shrugged as if it were the most logical thing. “Of course. We’re stuck in here. No point in standing around being all stiff and uncomfortable.” His hands casually rested on your waist, his fingers tapping a gentle rhythm against the fabric of your shirt. “I like being close to you anyway. Plus, I’m not going anywhere. Might as well make the best of it.”

You tried not to laugh, but the way he was acting so nonchalant about it made it impossible. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Seunghyun only chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before letting his hand rest there. “I’m just making the most of our time together. No point in being grumpy when I get to hang out with my favorite person, right?”

You smiled, shaking your head at his antics. Of course, he would make something so normal feel like an adventure. But that was Seunghyun for you—easygoing and always making the best of everything, even a stuck elevator.

And before you knew it, the moment had become comfortable. You let yourself settle into his embrace, leaning your head on his shoulder as the sounds of the storm outside became a distant hum. “You’re right,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess this isn’t so bad after all.”

“See?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, still holding you close. “Stuck in a small space with you, just the two of us? Could be worse. Plus, this is the best kind of company.”

And just like that, the storm outside seemed far away, and all that mattered was being there, in that small, quiet space with Seunghyun. It was something that had long since become normal for the two of you—the comfort of being close, no matter where you were.

daesung: an attempt of an icebreaker

You and Daesung had found yourselves trapped in the cramped supply closet after a series of unfortunate events. The door had somehow swung shut behind you, and now you were both stuck in the small space, with barely enough room to breathe, let alone move.

As you shifted, trying to make yourself a little more comfortable, you suddenly became acutely aware of how close Daesung was. His shoulder brushed against yours, and the proximity between you both seemed to magnify everything. The air felt heavier, and even the tiniest movements felt like they were echoing in the tiny room.

Daesung, usually so confident and easygoing, froze. His body went completely still, as though he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you two, or rather, the lack of it. His eyes darted to the side, then quickly down, and then up again—clearly avoiding your gaze. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he scratched the back of his neck.

“So...” Daesung mumbled, his voice suddenly much quieter than usual, a touch of awkwardness in his tone. “You come here often?”

You blinked, unsure if he was joking or genuinely trying to break the tension. His face was slightly flushed, and the nervous energy radiating from him was almost tangible. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at how awkward his attempt to break the silence sounded.

Daesung immediately went redder, his eyes widening as he realized what he'd just said. “Wait, no! That—ugh, forget I said that.” He quickly flailed a hand in the air, clearly embarrassed by his choice of words.

You smirked, enjoying the rare moment of seeing him flustered. “Oh my god, Daesung. Really? 'You come here often'?" You teased, trying to keep your voice light. “That’s your icebreaker?”

He fidgeted, clearly not knowing how to recover from his awkwardness. "I—I mean, I don’t really have a backup line, okay? I was just trying to say something to—y'know—ease the tension." He chuckled nervously, his fingers still anxiously twitching as he tried to regain some composure.

You were absolutely charmed by how flustered he was. There was something so endearing about seeing Daesung, the confident and carefree guy everyone knew, suddenly so unsure of himself. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” you said, teasing him gently.

Daesung looked at you, eyes wide, as his face turned even redder. “Stop, I can’t take this,” he muttered, trying to hide his face in his hands, but the small space made it impossible for him to escape from the situation. His fingers rubbed the back of his neck in nervous habit, as if he could distract himself from how awkward it was. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

"Well," you said, leaning a little closer, still amused by the situation, "you’re stuck with me now. You might as well make the best of it."

Daesung exhaled sharply, trying to seem nonchalant, but the way his eyes flicked down at your hand brushing against his arm gave him away. "Right... I guess I could get used to the whole... 'stuck in a closet' thing," he said with a sheepish grin, though he still couldn't seem to make eye contact.

You chuckled, the tension slowly fading as you both stood there, practically shoulder to shoulder, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours. The awkwardness was still lingering, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... sweet. Daesung wasn’t perfect, and it was moments like this—vulnerable and unsure—that made him even more endearing.

"You know," you said with a playful grin, "you could have at least said, 'Nice weather we're having' if you really wanted to be awkward."

Daesung gave you a mock glare, but his smile was already returning. "You’re just full of great ideas, huh? I’ll keep that one in my back pocket next time."

You laughed softly. "Well, it’s always a good one for the next awkward situation."

For a moment, neither of you said anything, and the silence was comfortable now. You were close enough to feel the warmth from Daesung’s body, but the situation didn’t feel quite as claustrophobic anymore. The rain outside had picked up a little, and all you could hear was the soft pitter-patter on the windows.

“You still think we’re gonna get out of here soon?” Daesung asked, his voice quieter now, the playful edge replaced with a bit of genuine curiosity.

You smiled, brushing your hand against his arm gently. “Honestly, I have no idea. But if we’re stuck here longer... at least we’ve got each other, right?”

Daesung’s eyes softened at that, and for a moment, his usual carefree energy returned, the shy awkwardness melting away. “Yeah,” he said with a quiet smile, "at least we’ve got that."

And somehow, in that tiny, awkward space, everything felt just right.

absentmindedly playing with hands or hair

seunghyun: perfect balance of collected and confident

Publicly, Seunghyun doesn’t even give the slightest indication that your touch is having any effect on him. On the outside, he’s the same calm, collected presence he always is—quiet, reserved, and effortlessly cool. But the moment your fingers slip into his hair, gently running through the strands, there’s a subtle shift. His jaw tightens for a fraction of a second, and his eyes soften, though he doesn’t dare to look at you fully. The corners of his mouth twitch just enough to show his enjoyment, but it’s so fleeting, most wouldn’t notice. He’s melting inside, completely at ease, as if the world around him has slowed to a halt. Your touch has this uncanny way of unwinding every bit of tension from his body. He feels a warmth spread through him that’s more soothing than anything else. He’s swooning, mentally, but there’s not a word spoken, no public display—just a quiet relaxation that only you can bring. In fact, he makes sure to keep his composure outwardly, so no one can ever guess just how much your simple touch is affecting him. His hand might twitch, ready to grab yours and pull you a little closer, but in the end, he just lets the moment pass, silently appreciating it.

But as soon as you're in private, everything changes. The calm and collected Seunghyun you know in public is nowhere to be found. Instead, he becomes a little more smug, a little more self-assured. He knows exactly what effect you have on him, and now it’s your turn to feel that same effect. He watches you with a teasing grin, leaning in just close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin. His eyes flicker down to where your hands are—already making their way to him, unable to resist touching him, even just for a moment. “Can’t keep your hands off me, hm, princess?” he says, his voice low and smooth, dripping with playful confidence. The words are casual, but the glint in his eyes tells a different story—one that says he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

Before you can even answer, he grabs your hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles with a flourish, like he’s making some grand gesture. “Are my hands that interesting?” he teases, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes growing.

You nod far too eagerly, your excitement spilling over, and Seunghyun’s grin only widens, enjoying the fact that he has this power over you. “A bit too excited, aren’t we?” he comments, amusement dancing on his features as he brings your hand back down. Then, with a soft but unmistakable shift, he pulls you closer by the waist, his arms settling around you possessively. “You’re so easy to read, you know that?” he adds, the teasing in his tone laced with something a little deeper—something soft, though wrapped in all the cocky confidence that makes him him.

His lips hover near your ear for just a moment, his breath warm against your skin. “But I don’t mind it,” he whispers, his smile turning a little softer. “I like knowing you’re mine.”

You can't help the way your heart flutters at his words, the warmth of his hands, and the complete shift from teasing to affection. He’s playful, but in moments like this, you can feel how completely he’s wrapped around you—and you around him, just as much.

daesung: return to sender

Publicly or privately, Daesung simply does not care—he is absolutely devoted to making sure you feel loved and appreciated at all times. It’s like a natural instinct for him, no matter where you are or who’s around. When it comes to you, there’s no such thing as too much affection, too many thoughtful gestures, or too many ways to show you how much he cherishes you. If you softly touch his hand, his first reaction is to kiss it. Not just a quick peck, but a tender, lingering kiss, as if he’s holding your hand for the first time all over again. He makes sure it’s clear that your touch is the most precious thing in the world to him. Then, after pulling away, he will massage your hand, gently rubbing each knuckle and the palm as if he’s trying to give you all the warmth and love he has to offer, a soft, soothing rhythm that mirrors the way his heart beats when you’re near.

If you fix his hair, Daesung is positively glowing with happiness. Instead of just saying thank you and leaving it at that, he wants to return the favor, and he does so in his own, playful, and sweet way. "Well, if you're fixing my hair, I guess it’s only fair that I try doing yours," he’ll say, his grin making his eyes sparkle. He’ll carefully take your hair between his fingers, running them through the strands with such tenderness it feels almost reverent. His fingers move gently, as though he’s trying to memorize the feeling of caring for you in this way. It’s a simple act, yet there’s so much love behind it, and you can feel the warmth of his affection in every delicate stroke. The moment is intimate, calming, and grounding—one where you can feel how much he treasures being this close to you.

And if you touch his arm, well, that’s when Daesung completely takes over. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Without hesitation, he’s right behind you, his hands moving to your shoulders in an instant. His touch is light but strong, as his fingers knead the tension out of your muscles. He massages slowly, with so much care, making sure every inch of stress is melted away. You might have touched his arm, but now he’s the one caring for you, taking that moment to pamper you instead of being pampered. The way his hands move is almost instinctual—he’s so gentle, so considerate, it feels as if he’s giving you the world with just a simple massage. What was meant to be a brief act of tenderness towards him turns into a quiet, loving act of service from him to you.

Daesung isn’t just about the grand gestures; he knows that love is often shown through the small, everyday moments—these tiny, thoughtful acts that say everything without needing a word. And he makes sure you know, every single day, just how much you mean to him, through all the little things he does to make you feel cherished, adored, and completely cared for. To him, it’s the small moments that truly matter, the ones that prove just how deeply he loves you, because he knows that love is in the details.

jiyong: inked stories

Jiyong, always effortlessly calm and composed, never questions when you begin tracing over his hands or arms, just allowing you to do whatever you wish. It’s as if there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a quiet rhythm that feels so natural. He finds solace in it, as if your touch grounds him in a way words never could. Every movement you make is met with patience and a soft smile, and he’s absolutely enchanted by the way you seem to get lost in these moments—tracing the lines of his palms, following the curves of his arms. It’s intimate in its simplicity, and it’s something he looks forward to without even realizing it.

What truly makes his heart swell, though, is when your fingers trace over his tattoos. He knows you adore them. He’s aware of how your eyes light up when your fingers skim the ink, the designs he’s carried with him through his journey. They’re more than just tattoos to him; they’re pieces of his past, each one telling a story. But seeing you trace them so reverently, with such love and appreciation, makes him feel something deeper—like those tattoos are even more meaningful because you’re the one noticing them, the one paying attention to these parts of him that aren’t immediately obvious. He treasures that you take the time to appreciate the things that define him, to make him feel seen in such a personal way.

“You always make my tattoos look so much better,” he says with a teasing grin, though there’s an underlying sincerity in his words. He catches your gaze as your fingers hover over one of the designs on his arm, a smile tugging at his lips. “I think you’re the only one who sees them the way I do.”

You glance up at him, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you continue tracing the intricate patterns. “I just think they’re beautiful. You’ve got stories etched on your skin, and I love hearing them without words.”

His heart skips a beat at that, and he watches you for a moment, his eyes softening. “I’ve got all these tattoos, but none of them mean as much as the way you look at them,” he admits quietly, his thumb brushing over your wrist.

When you’re satisfied, when you finally pull your hands away, Jiyong doesn’t rush. His fingers gently close around yours, his thumb softly running over the back of your hand, his touch warm and steady. He intertwines your fingers together without a second thought, his hand enveloping yours like it was always meant to be. There’s something tender, something almost reverent about the way he holds you, like he’s holding onto something precious. His eyes meet yours, soft and full of affection, the quiet intimacy between you both speaking volumes. He doesn’t need to say anything—he already knows. The connection is there, woven into the smallest gestures, the ones that speak the loudest, and he treasures every second of it.

he walks in on you singing (you're amazing)

daesung: harmonies and vocal training

You’re mid-song, completely lost in the melody, when a second voice slips in seamlessly with yours. At first, you don’t think much of it—just an echo in your head, maybe a trick of the music. But then it grows stronger, harmonizing perfectly, the warmth of familiarity making your stomach flip.

You freeze.

Daesung.

Before you can react, he’s no longer just harmonizing—he’s belting at full power like he’s center stage at the biggest concert of his career. The walls practically vibrate with his voice, and you let out an involuntary yelp, startled out of your skin.

He yells back, louder, eyes wide, like he’s the one who’s been caught.

There’s a split second of stunned silence where you just stare at each other, and then, as if on cue, you both burst into laughter.

“I—Why did you scream?!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach, barely able to get the words out between giggles.

“Why did YOU scream?!” you shoot back, still trying to process the sheer volume of what just happened.

He grins, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes a step closer. “Okay, but seriously,” he says, nudging you. “You’ve been hiding that voice from me? From me? I literally sing for a living, and you didn’t think to mention this?”

You groan, face heating. “It’s not like I was hiding it—”

Daesung cuts you off with a dramatic gasp. “So you mean you just forgot to tell me you’re secretly amazing? Wow. Betrayal.”

You shove him lightly, rolling your eyes, but he’s already launching into another playful over-the-top vocal run, still grinning ear to ear. Then, before you can protest, he throws an arm around you and sways dramatically, humming the melody you were just singing.

“You know,” he says, eyes twinkling with mischief, “I think I should become your vocal coach. We’ll train every day—warm-ups in the morning, practice in the afternoon. We can do duets! Matching stage outfits! A unit name! Oh, this is happening.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines, giving you a gentle shake. “I’m Daesung! It’s literally my job to make people sing. And now that I know you have this secret talent, I have to help you unleash your full potential.”

“I don’t need to unleash anything—”

“Too late. You’ve been discovered.” He gasps again, eyes gleaming with fake betrayal. “Unless… unless you hate my singing! Oh no. That’s why you didn’t tell me, isn’t it? You’re tired of hearing my voice.”

You snort. “You are so dramatic.”

“I have to be. For the industry.” He puffs out his chest, then nudges you again. “So? When’s our first rehearsal?”

You sigh, shaking your head, but you can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

"Tomorrow morning? Great! I'll see you in the morning baby!" He excitedly ran out of the room, causing you to laugh aloud—you live together you will see him as soon as you exit the room as well. Oh, Daesung.

seunghyun: totally starstruck

You don’t notice him at first.

You’re too lost in the song, letting the melody spill effortlessly from your lips, the way it wraps around the air like something tangible, something alive. It’s just you, your voice, and the quiet room—until the weight of a gaze suddenly makes you falter.

You glance up, startled, and there he is.

Seunghyun stands frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, lips parted slightly as if he had something to say but forgot how to speak. His entire posture—still, rigid, like he’s afraid to move—tells you everything before he even opens his mouth.

“…Do that again.”

His voice is hushed, reverent, but there’s an intensity beneath it, like this moment is something sacred.

You blink, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”

“Sing again.” He steps closer, slow and deliberate, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast. “Please.”

You let out a flustered laugh, trying to shake off the weight of his stare. “Seunghyun, it’s really not—”

“It is,” he interrupts, shaking his head, still looking at you like he’s seeing something unreal. “Why aren’t you doing this as a career?”

You scoff, shifting awkwardly under his unwavering gaze. “Because I couldn't get up on stage in front of people! I got anxious when I found out only you were listening—”

“Ridiculous,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “That’s ridiculous.” He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair like he’s trying to process something huge. “You sound better than—” he hesitates, eyes flickering over your face as if searching for the right words. When he finds them, his voice is almost breathless. “Better than anyone I’ve ever heard. Ever.”

Your face warms under the intensity of his words, but he isn’t done.

Suddenly, he’s closer—so close that you barely register the moment his hands find yours, his grip firm but gentle, grounding. “Let me record you,” he says, almost pleading. “Sample your voice. Something. Anything.”

You laugh, flustered, shaking your head. “Seunghyun, no—”

He ignores your protest, his thumbs brushing lightly over your knuckles, his gaze still holding that same quiet, devastating awe. “I need to hear you like that again.” A pause. “Do you know what you just did to me?”

You swallow hard, unsure how to respond, because you’re the one who feels undone under the weight of his devotion.

To him, it’s like he’s falling in love all over again. And he has no intention of getting back up.

jiyong: your first fanboy

You’re lost in the music again, wrapped in your own little world, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and instinctively, you turn—only to find Jiyong standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes gleam with mischief, and you can already tell that he's about to make this moment so much more than it needs to be.

“You really didn’t think to tell me about this?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I mean, I knew you were talented, but this?” He shakes his head as if he’s genuinely offended. “I’m hurt, baby.”

You roll your eyes, chuckling nervously. “It’s not a big deal, Jiyong.”

“Not a big deal?” he scoffs, already pulling his phone out of his pocket. “You’re basically a superstar and you never even mentioned it? Unbelievable. Well, if you won’t tell me, I guess I’ll just have to do it for you.”

Before you can protest, he taps his phone screen and a playlist of your favorite songs starts playing. He uses his phone as a makeshift lightstick, dramatically waving it in the air as he steps forward, his smirk never leaving his face. “Alright, let’s do this properly,” he announces, as though he’s about to manage a full-scale performance.

You laugh, feeling completely exposed now, but Jiyong’s energy is infectious. He steps into the middle of the room, sets his phone down on a nearby table, and hits play on the next song. He starts dancing around you, pretending to be the most enthusiastic fan, fully immersing himself in the “show.” Every so often, he pulls exaggerated, overly dramatic dance moves—his “fanboy” act is too much, and you can’t help but giggle.

“You’re so cheesy,” you say, trying to hide your embarrassment, but also thoroughly entertained.

“You love it,” he grins, spinning you around like you're both part of some spontaneous duet. “You’re welcome. This is the kind of spotlight you deserve.”

As the song comes to a close, he steps back, using his phone to “judge” your performance like a panelist on some reality show. “And a perfect ten! Unbelievable! You’re incredible, but I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me all this time,” he teases, dramatically wiping away a fake tear.

You roll your eyes, but your heart is full of affection. “I wasn’t hiding it, Jiyong. I just—”

“Nope!” he interrupts, cutting you off with a hand up. “You’re a star. And I knew it.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. “I think you were just trying to keep all the attention for yourself, huh?”

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “You’re unbelievable.”

Jiyong just winks, sweeping you into his arms. “I’m just the best manager ever. Now, go on, show me the next song, superstar.”

returning home after a tour and finding out you missed him

seunghyun: human charger

The second you opened the door, Seunghyun was standing there, looking composed as ever—hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly, that unreadable expression on his face. But his eyes. His eyes gave him away.

“You’re back,” you breathed, a little stunned even though you knew he was coming home today. It still felt surreal after all those weeks apart. “I missed you so much Seunghyun.”

For a fraction of a second, his lips twitched—like he was fighting back the urge to actually react. Then, with the smoothest, most indifferent tone, he said, “Oh? You missed me?” He let out a soft scoff, looking off to the side. “That’s funny. I didn’t even notice you weren't with me.”

Before you could even pretend to be offended, he had already closed the space between you, wrapping his arms around you tight. No hesitation, no delay. Like he had been holding himself back for far too long, and now that you were in front of him, he wasn’t wasting another second.

You melted into him, letting yourself be enveloped in his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the weight of his chin resting on your shoulder. “Liar,” you murmured, smiling against the fabric of his jacket.

His arms only tightened around you in response.

It wasn’t until later that you noticed the real extent of how much he had actually missed you.

The next morning, when you asked about his schedule, he just shrugged, sitting comfortably on the couch with you wrapped up in his hold. “Cleared it,” he said simply, scrolling through his phone.

“…Cleared it?” You blinked. “Like—what do you mean, cleared it?”

“I mean exactly that.” He didn’t even look up. “No meetings. No interviews. No rehearsals. Nothing. I’m busy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Busy doing what?”

At that, he finally glanced at you, expression unreadable for just a moment before he spoke, voice completely steady—like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Being here. Need to recharge. You're my charger,” His words were so matter-of-factly that you had no case if you were to deny what he said—you would be crazy to do that.

You stared at him, equal parts exasperated and endeared. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.” He smirked, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he tugged you closer.

You sighed, defeated, and let yourself melt into him. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I really do.”

He hummed, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. “Good. Because I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

And sure enough, for the next few days, he refused to let you go anywhere without him. If you had errands? He was coming with you. If you had plans? He adjusted them so you could stay in instead. If you so much as moved from the couch, his arm would subtly tighten around you, an unbreakable vise grip that you welcomed warmly.

daesung: everything is a reminder of you

The moment Daesung stepped through the front door, his suitcase rolling behind him, his face lit up the second he saw you. He barely had a chance to say anything before you blurted it out.

“I missed you.”

For a brief second, he just stared at you, his eyes widening as if those words had flipped some switch inside him. Then, suddenly, his whole expression softened into the warmest, most radiant smile.

“You missed me?” His voice was filled with so much genuine happiness, like he couldn’t believe it even though he had been hoping to hear it. Then, before you could even answer, he closed the space between you in a heartbeat, wrapping you up in his arms. “Oh my god, I missed you too! You know that, I told you every day by text, but it wasn’t the same.”

You laughed against his shoulder, feeling how tightly he was holding you, like he had been waiting for this moment the entire tour. He smelled like airport air and faded cologne, but underneath it was something distinctly him, something that made you want to stay right there forever.

Then, just as suddenly as he had hugged you, he pulled back, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Oh! Wait! I got you something.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Something?”

Daesung grinned. “Okay... maybe a few things.”

And then he grabbed his suitcase, unzipped it with so much enthusiasm that you swore he almost broke the zipper, and started pulling out item after item after item.

“This reminded me of you.” He placed a small trinket in your hands—a keychain shaped like a little cartoon animal, one of your favorites.

“And this one too. Oh, and this! I saw this and immediately thought of you.” A little stuffed animal, then a handmade bracelet, then a snack from one of the local markets.

You watched in awe as the pile kept growing. “Daesung, how much stuff did you buy?”

He looked sheepish but only for a second before laughing. “A lot… but I couldn’t not get them! Everywhere I went, something reminded me of you, and I kept thinking, ‘Oh, she would love this!’ And I couldn’t just choose one thing, so I got everything.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of souvenirs but also by the sentiment behind them. He had spent all that time away, traveling from city to city, but he had still been thinking of you the entire time.

Your chest felt warm, overflowing with affection. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, shaking your head, but you were smiling, and he knew you weren’t mad in the slightest.

Daesung beamed. “Ridiculously in love with you.” Then he held up one more thing—his arms, wide open. “Now come here and let me make up for all that lost time.”

And, of course, you didn’t hesitate to fall right back into his embrace.

jiyong: planning and eavesdropping

The moment you sighed out the words—“I missed you.”—Jiyong stilled. His lips parted slightly, eyes glinting with something smug. Then, his expression shifted into full dramatic mode.

“Oh?” he said, tilting his head. “Say it again.”

You blinked. “What?”

He leaned in, grinning now. “One more time. Just for me.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to protest, but then he was already pulling you forward, locking you in his arms with a delighted sigh. “Actually, forget that. You’re not going anywhere, little lady. You belong right here for at least the next hour.”

A huff of laughter escaped you, but you didn’t try to pull away. There was no point—Jiyong had latched onto you like a koala, his arms wound tight around your waist, legs tangled with yours as if to physically make up for all the lost time.

The two cats, clearly attuned to the energy in the room, jumped up onto the couch beside you both. One curled into the space between you, the other settled by your legs, their purring blending seamlessly with the warmth of Jiyong’s body against yours.

“You’re acting like I was gone for a year,” you teased, running a hand through his hair.

“Felt like it,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes scanning every inch of your face like he was committing it to memory again. “Next time, I’m bringing you with me.”

“You always say that,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, and one day it’s actually gonna happen.” He pulled you even closer, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I already planned, like… seven different dates for us in different cities, by the way.”

You let out a short laugh. “Seven?”

“Obviously. Do you know how much time I spent thinking about you?” He pulled back slightly, just enough to kiss your temple. “A lot, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.”

Before you could retort, he suddenly gasped, his entire body tensing with excitement. “Oh my god, I almost forgot. You will not believe the gossip I heard.”

You blinked at the abrupt shift. “What?”

Jiyong leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to tell you the biggest secret in the world. “So, you know how the hairstylists and makeup artists talk to each other while they’re working?”

“Yeah?”

“Well.” His lips curled into a devilish grin. “They think I’m not listening. But I am.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” He practically vibrated with excitement. “Okay, listen to this—so apparently, one of the stylists is secretly dating this one idol but no one is supposed to know, but—”

And just like that, the next hour disappeared into a flurry of hushed whispers, gasped reactions, and Jiyong acting out dramatic reenactments of everything he overheard. The cats dozed beside you, entirely unbothered, as he spilled every single secret he had collected like a gremlin hoarding forbidden knowledge.

It wasn’t until much later, when you had both completely melted into each other, his voice softer now as he murmured about places he wanted to take you, that you realized just how much he had missed you.

And how much, without even realizing it, you had missed this.

thanks for reading!

i love making these so like if u want part 3 do lmk!

part one here !

[rhyrhy]

Kiss the chef

…Ermm based on comments I guess this is a series now..? LOL?

[warnings]: chef! Abby, unserious. Part 1 here

You sighed, leaning against Dina, trying to ignore your phone. “Dee, this is bad. Like, I-have-a-crush bad.”

Dina chuckled, flicking your forehead. “Girl, what? You’ve barely even seen her face.” Rolling onto her side to face you, she smirked. “And I’m the sapphic disaster?”

You groaned, swatting her hand away. “Yeah, but her voice though. And those arms? Oh, unless—oh God. Do you think the muscles are compensating?”

Dina snorted, propping herself up on her elbows. “I mean, maybe, but I doubt it. Probably toned all over, y’know? Not just the arms.”

“That’s true…” you sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Soooo, do I just… wait for her to DM me?”

Dina shot you a look. “Oh, so you wanna be one of the millions of other girls thirsting in her DMs?”

“You’re such a jerk.” You rolled onto your stomach, groaning into the blanket. “I’m eating your pasta when you leave.”

Dina scoffed, clutching her chest like you’d physically wounded her. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“And to think,” she continued, voice dripping with betrayal, “I was gonna make you pancakes this morning.”

“Aww my sweet Dina” You peeked up at her, narrowing your eyes. “…Fine, fine. I’ll spare the pasta.” You sat up, stretching. “And you know what? I am not DMing her first. I’m not desperate.”

Dina snickered. “Ohhh, now I’m your sweet Dina.” She gave you a knowing look. Food was the ultimate bribe. “That’s right. You’re not desperate. Not at all.”

You folded your arms, huffing. “Bye, I have to film. Miss Arms and Abs isn’t the only influencer around.”

Dina threw open her closet and called after you, voice laced with sarcasm. “Oh wow, look at you. So nonchalant. As if you don’t have a crush on a woman you’ve never even met in person.”

She yanked on an oversized shirt. “Have fun, drama queen. And don’t think I forgot about those pancakes.”

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Being called an “influencer” still sounded weird. You didn’t plan for this. But hey, free PR was a plus.

It all started in quarantine—everyone glued to their screens, desperate for entertainment. You were just another face in the endless sea, but apparently, 880.8k people liked yours. Your top pinned videos? A casual makeup tutorial and a GRWM featuring Dina’s voiceover roasting you for ten straight minutes.

@: 😭😭 this gotta be cyberbullying

@: her saying ‘looking casket-ready’ HAS ME DEAD

@: lights, cameras, fades tbh

@: okay but that shade match is perfect 😍

Now, ring light on, phone propped up, concealer in hand—you had a routine. The only real complaint? Editing out the parts where you tripped over your own words.

Recently, you’d started a new playlist: “Spring Break Glow Up.” The comments were convinced you were full-blown looksmaxing. In reality, you just wanted to look good for vacation. Gym, lymphatic drainage massages, a new hair color—okay, maybe a little looksmaxing. But after an embarrassingly public breakup, you needed something more than just your most-liked Instagram post.

“Still your loss btw💘”

———————

❤️ 1.8M — 💬 287.5K

@: “let her get up omg”

@: “Queen NEVER cries, body is too tea.”

@: “fumbling this is crazy work”

@: “my favorite unproblematic influencer”

Yeah, that was you. The sweet girl persona. So when you left that little thirst comment, it didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not the new notification at the top of your screen.

You: “Me next🫦!”

↳ @buffandbasil: “We’ll see :)”

↳ @ “.. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???!”

↳ @ “pause. Is this WLW rn—?”

↳ @ “get the fanfiction writers on this one!”

+99 more notifications.

It just kept going. You muted it and focused on posting—gotta keep engagement up. Some days, you weren’t even going anywhere but still filmed in full glam, pajama pants just out of frame. Consistency was key. If you slipped, you’d disappear as fast as you blew up.

…But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The keyboard emoticons instead of emojis? How old was she? Should you follow her back? Was the whole faceless thing hot and mysterious… or creepy and suspicious? Your brain wouldn’t shut up. And worst of all? Dina was right.

Scrolling through your comments per usual, you couldn’t help yourself. You tapped the home icon, staring at the notification you’d been obsessing over since you woke up.

Followed back. Just now.

Mutuals.

Meaning you could send a message if you wanted, and she would actually see it. But no, no—you weren’t saying anything first. That was ridiculous. So you waited. And you filmed. And you waited— yeah, this was even more ridiculous than the original plan. Until—

One new message.

@buffandbasil: “So… do I get a review from the famous food critic, or are you just gonna thirst from a distance?”

@ you: “ple-aseee. I’m simply admiring the you know, the… presentation.”

@buffandbasil: “Oh, so it’s about the food?”

@ you: “Of course”

@buffandbasil: “Mm. Good to know.”

Okay. That felt like flirting. It had to be, right?

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The messages kept flowing, playful. Your heart shouldn’t have been racing over texts, but here you were, kicking your sock-covered feet. At some point during the week, you posted a casual TikTok—something stupid, barely even about her. Just a clip of you cooking with the black-and-white text overlay.

“Idk how to act now that I’m mutuals with the internet’s buffest chef.”

It was harmless. Cute, even. And then, everything felt good—until her replies stopped. You waited. Five minutes. Ten. An hour. You’d been texting since Monday. What’s the big hold-up now?

A like? That’s all you got. Not even on your last message, but one from earlier. Your stomach churned around. Maybe she got busy. Was this getting too parasocial? You had to check, not sure what for. But when you opened her latest TikTok, that’s when you saw it. A comment, just a few minutes old:

@: you and @y/n cooking video together when?

Okay, next. Scrolling.

^ @: right!, I need it like I need air!

Love that idea, you thought, thumb slowing down a little.

@: “Lmao she flirts like this with everyone, don’t fall for it.”

Oh.

@: “Lmao she flirts like this with everyone, don’t fall for it.” <❤️’ed by @buffandbasil>

Oh.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

[greeniegirl23]

Random Alastor Blurb Because I Love This Weird Radio Man PT#3! (NSFW)

(Welcome to part three of my silly lil blurbs! These will be random rant posts I make about Alastor whenever the ideas come to me. Love him and there are things, thoughts, and ideas I have about him that I would love to share!)

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

• Okay, when I think Alastor and a NSFW individual, I'd like to think that he wouldn't mind after you two have been together for a very, very long time

• I'm talking years of being with each other, comfortable and able to be the rawest version of yourselves without the other judging, but accepting and being supportive. Good and bad, thick and thin, y'all may as well be married before he even plays around the notion of having sex

• You being a supportive and loving girlfriend, never pushed him into anything he'd be uncomfortable with. So you found your fix in other ways, overtime and unbeknownst to you, Alastor kinda found an issue with that. Slightly insecure with being able to fulfill your relationship in every way except that one.

• It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that he knows he can't supply that emotional connection most people seek when indulging in to sins of the flesh and he'd rather not do it at all than to try and make a fool out of himself.

• With the two of you being as close as you are, it wouldn't take long before you catch this and talk with him about it. At first he avoided you like the plague, until you literally pinned him against the wall and made him confess, is when he finally told you how he felt about it. Of course you reassured him that it wasn't that big of an issue for you and that you'd only allow it if it was something he really wanted.

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

"You've got nothing to prove Alastor, to me or to anyone. I don't care that we don't have sex, that's not why I'm with you and I know how you feel about being touched. I want you to be comfortable and happy with me and of sex is out of the question? So be it."

You watched him closely as he seemed to fidget under your gaze. This wasn't the first time you've seen him nervous, dare I say bashful, but it didn't make the sight all the less rare.

"I suppose if that's how you feel about it, then I won't allow it to bother me any longer. If you are truly satisfied with me, then I can accept being worried about nothing."

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

• And for a while, he did. Everything went back to normal....

• Until one morning, while he was getting dressed for the day and you were showering, he could hear you making sounds of pleasure from the bathroom. It was ever so faint, yet he couldn't stop the flicking of his ear as he heard the gentle whisper of his name from your lips...

• Immediately he left the room, feeling bad again and remembering your words. Alastor wasn't a stranger to the warmth building in her abdomen and heading straight down south, but he was strong enough to ignore it for now, wondering if there was something, anything, he could do to hear you make those noises again, without having to bump uglies with you directly.

• After about a week of being somewhat awkward, telling bad lies, and hoping that he wouldn't regret this. He realized he needed help and decided to go to the one person he knew that was close enough and easily threatened enough, to lend him aid in this rather precarious predicament...

• It's safe to say Angel Dust almost woke up the entirety of the Hotel when he entered his room after a long day of work, only to find Alastor sitting in a recliner, trying to convince Fat Nuggets to 'plumpen up', and screamed loud enough the five circles below the Pride Ring could hear him.

• With the snap of his fingers, Alastor silenced his target, closing the door before anyone could come by and sat Angel down on his bed before speaking in a very dark, very serious tone.

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

"You," Alastor said, pointing towards the pornstar. "Are going to help me with a rather serious problem. A problem that only someone with your choice of careers could help me with, this discussion and all future discussions will stay between you and I. If I find out otherwise, I can assure you, you and your pet swine will suffer a date worse than death. Am I clear?"

Angel Dust fercily nodded. With a flick of Alastor's wrist, regained the ability to speak once more. "..What the hell do you want from me?"

"I request you assistance with.." Alastor cleared his throat. "Pleasing the opposite gender... Carnally, of course."

"Ya askin me, to help you have sex with ya girlfriend?" Angel Dust deadpanned. "Ya seriously threaten me and my precious baby over dat?!"

"Yes, I am. If you have a problem with that then that's too bad. We made a deal and you will abide by it, regardless of if you're fond of the idea or not."

"Just take it slow n' stick ya dick in er. It's sex, not rocket science!"

"That's just the issue my effeminate fellow! I'm not too keen on the idea of direct intercourse, so I'd rather find other ways to make my beloved happy. Without the cost of me being uncomfortable and her being deprived of her desire for my affections."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "You mean like eatin her out or sumthin'?"

Alastor's face made a disgusted expression, " Why on earth would I eat her? I want to please her, not have her for breakfast!"

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

• As one would imagine, Angel Dust had to hold himself back from laughing in Alastor's face as he explained that the term was not literal.

• He then explained to Alastor the many different approaches he could take to satisfy your needs without inserting himself in you. Your partner was surprised to hear about most of these methods, mentally taking notes on this, that, and the third as Angel essentially gave him a crash course for your one way ticket to a interesting shift in your relationship.

• Finally, at 2am, Alastor had enough information (and emotional support from Angle Dust) to put his new knowledge into action. He thanked Angel Dust with a wad of cash, based off the hourly rate the spider usually made and a tip for being cooperative, before leaving the poor man to rest.

• Now that he was armed with the power of knowledge, it was now time to wait.

• Like a predator laying in wait for its prey, Alastor was patient as the days went by. Making sure you didn't suspect a thing during your interactions and doing his best to strike at the perfect moment.

• Then it came, one night while you were in bed reading your favorite novel. You were wearing one of his shirts, no bra, and clad in your favorite underwear while being nestled in a small fort of blankets and pillows.

• He climbed into bed next to you, a bit closer than usual considering the fact that he slept similar to that of a vampire on most nights, and at first you thought nothing of it.

• That was until he began touching you. Slow touches on your wrist and your arm, his claws teasing your skin as he rubbed your thighs beneath the thick duvet.

• He got closer, making sure you could smell his scent. Still caressing your skin, before being bold and sticking his hand up your shirt to gently fiddle with your breasts.

•At first it felt inexperienced, experimental if you will. But little did you know, he was hyper aware of your body's responses. He could smell your pheromones, very fitting of your personality. He could feel your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage, your nipples peeking from the teasing from of the pads of his fingers. The biggest tell was your thighs, rubbing together anxiously as usual when you were aroused.

How cute.

• A part of you wanted to ask what this was all about. If he had forgotten what you had spoken on before, but something was telling you that this was alright. That your lover was fine and actually wanted what was going on right now.

• You could hardly bring yourself to look at him, for as long as you had been together, this was the first time in a while where you were actually embarrassed. The wetness in your underwear, rendered them soaking wet. Anxiety struck your heart for a moment when Alastor used his fingers to ever so gracefully trace his fingers around the shape of your mound.

• You did your best to make your book the most interesting thing going on right now, but Alastor didn't like that. Slowly coaxing the book out of your hands, tossing it somewhere on his side of the bed as he used his powers to cut the lights out in the room.

•It was practically pitch black. Raising the height of your senses as your eyes begin to adjust. You could hear the sound of fabric tearing, a faint gust of cold air brushed your now bare lips.

• Butterflies raved in your stomach and in your core, your breathing becomes slightly heavier. Anxiously, happily, and somewhat desperately, you wait as Alastor's hands palm your heat. Getting a feel for you, the shape of your intimacy, before slowly and very carefully slipping his fingers between your folds.

• The moan that left your sweet lips was one Alastor swore he'd remember for the rest of his afterlife. Adoration swelled in his chest when you gripped his nightshirt, holding on to him for dear life while slowly grinding your hips against his digits.

• It was dirty, lewd, sexy, and all those other words one could use to describe an intimate moment such as this. Of all his years of both being alive and dead, he never thought he'd find himself actually enjoying something like this. But it was because he got to please you, to hear you sing a song for his ears only, to see that look on your face as you fought back being loud, steadily unraveling on his very fingertips.

• You willfully closed your eyes. You were already being forced to listen to your own arousal, clicking softly with Alastor's movements as he began to find a rhythm you were comfortable with. It would be too much for you to bare to watch, even if it was dark.

• His pace quickened as he remembered what the spider stated. Based on that, he was sure that you were getting close. Already your legs had opened wider for him, giving him access to slip the full extent of his fingers into your core. The palm of his hand rubbed perfectly against your puffy bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

• The world seemed to disappear and you were on the edge of crashing like a wave against a rock. However, Alastor wanted to do just one last thing.

• Swiftly, he forced you to lay flat on your back. A shocked look overcame your face as he stared down at you. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck, his length straining almost painfully in his pants as it rested against the fat of your thigh, as he continued to slowly, yet forcefully bring you to euphoria.

• Finally the knot in your stomach snapped and you gasped, biting your lip while you whined. Alastor wasn't having that nonsense however, grabbing your chin and crashing his lips against yours. Forcing his tongue past your lips, he drew out those sounds of yours, the same sounds he heard in the bathroom that morning you were showering. Swallowing them up one by one, still pumping his hand to teasingly milk you for what you were worth in that moment. Thank whatever Heaven there was out there, because he almost reached his peak with you as you moaned his name once again.

• It took a moment for the shock to settle in. Alastor carefully removed his fingers from your entrance. Playfully, damn there lovingly tracing upwards. As if he were silently praising you for being so good for him.

• He allowed you to clean yourself up in the bathroom first while he changed the sheets, handled himself, and washed his hands thoroughly.

• Time resumed itself, as you both climbed into bed, you were sure to give him a hug and kissed his cheek.

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

"That was... amazing." You said. "I'm not sure what spurred that on but, thank you."

He turned to you, smiling happily before booping your nose. "You are ever so welcomed darling, should you ever require such a thing again, I have no problem offering my assistance to you. I rather enjoyed it, I thank you for respecting my boundaries when it comes to physical touch. It's appreciated more than you think."

You giggled, before cutting yourself off with a yawn. "No problem Alastor, I think it's time we head to bed. It'll be morning before we know it..."

"You pose a good point darling. I hope you sleep well."

"You too Alastor.."

Cuddling up to him as he assumes his best imitation of Plank from Ed, Edd, N Eddy, you both bask in the afterglow of each other's company as you drift to sleep. Happy and satisfied with the possibilities to cum.

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

Thank you for reading my blurbs once again! I think I might start categorizing these so I'll let you guys pick what blurb I write about next! :D

[dckweed]

tiktok made me do it!gf vs deployed tf141 bf

hey friends :) it would be much appreciated if you helped me earn some extra money, without even giving me any of your own (you could even sign up and earn some yourself!) by clicking this link!

Your boyfriend is one of the most highly trained, battle-hardened soldiers on the planet. His dog? The meanest, toughest, most well-trained Rottweiler you've ever seen.

And now? That same terrifying dog is currently under your care, with specific instructions NOT to spoil them…you can listen to the most basics of asks, right?

RIGHT?!?

Captain Price – "a Disney character"

Price kneels beside Ruby, scratching behind her ears one last time before he has to leave. His hand lingers on her thick fur, and his usually steady, commanding voice softens. "You take care of her, girl."*

Ruby lets out a soft chuff, pressing her head into his palm.

You sniffle. "I promise I’ll take good care of her, John."

He stands, turning to you. "I know you will, love. Just don’t—“He pauses, his brows furrowing. "Don’t go doin’ anythin’ weird with her, alright?"

You tilt your head. "Define weird."

He squints. "You know what I mean."

You absolutely did not.

One week later.

You send the first picture.

A delicate, pink tutu around Ruby’s waist. Light-up fairy wings strapped to her back. Her nails painted a perfectly coordinated shade of pink.

The best part?

She looks proud as hell.

Your phone immediately pings.

Price: The fuck is this, sweetheart?

You send another one. This time, Ruby is lounging on her brand new, overly expensive luxury dog bed, wearing a tiny princess crown.

Price: I leave her with ye for one fuckin’ week and she’s already been turned into a bloody Disney character?!

You: Oh hush, she loves it. Look at her face!

Price groans so loudly that his whole unit hears it. Soap leans over, sees the picture, and wheezes. "Aw, hell, Price. She's fuckin' royalty now."

Ghost, glancing over: "She looks happier than you do when your girl spoils you."

Price rubs his temples. "You're all bloody useless."

A week later, he receives a handwritten letter along with another photo—this time, of a handmade scarf for Ruby.

He stares at the picture, sighs, and mutters under his breath: "Jesus Christ, she’s turned my guard dog into a bloody princess."

Ruby is a princess.

And when he gets back? She refuses to go anywhere without her tutu.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "Super Hank, Defender of Snacks"

"Alright, Hank, you be good for her, yeah?" Gaz kneels down, ruffling his dog's fur. Hank wags his tail, panting happily.

You pat his head. "Oh, don’t worry, babe. We’ll be fine."

Kyle gives you a suspicious look. "Why do I feel like you’re about to do some shit?"

You grin. "Define shit."

He sighs. "I hate that response."

Two weeks later.

Gaz finally gets phone service and opens his messages.

The first thing he sees?

A picture of Hank, sitting like a goddamn superhero, wearing a full custom-made Superman cape.

The second picture? Hank in a full Batman outfit.

The third? A custom graphic that says: "HANK, DEFENDER OF SNACKS!"

Gaz: BABY WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY DOG?

You: Enhanced him.

Gaz nearly breaks his phone. "Oh my fucking God, she’s turned my damn dog into a cosplayer."

Soap, seeing the pictures: "I dunno, mate. He looks pretty fuckin’ heroic."

Ghost, from somewhere in the distance, voice full of humor. “More capable than you, probably."

Gaz groans. "I hate all of you."

Simon "Ghost" Riley – "for you and boy!"

Ghost stares at you, his hands resting on his hips. "You sure you’ll be alright with him?" Goodbyes always were a little cold and distant with him, a little awkward. This was no different, even though you’d been through many of them work him.

Boy sits beside him, posture perfect, eyes watchful.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Simon. I think I can handle a dog."

Ghost hums. "Alright. Just—" He looks at Boy. "Don’t let her turn you soft, mate."

Boy wags his tail. Simon plants a fat slobbery goodbye kiss on you and smacks your ass before heading out, duffel in his hand.

A month later.

Ghost finally gets service.

And he immediately regrets it.

The first picture? Boy, wrapped in a crocheted sweater—one that matches a homemade balaclava clearly mid crochet.

The second? Boy, completely limp, letting you hold him like a baby.

The third? A handwritten letter, along with a hand-knitted balaclava for Ghost.

Ghost: What the fuck is this, love?

You: A little gift for you and Boy! He wears his ALL the time. He loves it!

Ghost stares.

Soap sees the picture and immediately loses it. "NO FUCKIN’ WAY. SHE KNITTED YE A BLOODY BALACLAVA?"

Ghost grumbles, but when he next goes on deployment?

He proudly wears the balaclava.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "don’t let him get fat"

Soap kneels, ruffling Bubkiss’s fur. "A’right, old man, be good, yeah?"

Bubkiss lazily blinks up at him.

Soap turns to you. "Babe, don’t let him get too fat while I’m gone."

You scoff. "Me? Never." He looks at you. “Hey, you know im on that new workout thing, he and i are gonna go running every morning..”

“Aye, i know all about you and yer workout things.” Soap says, barely dodging the smack you aim at his shoulder.

Three weeks later.

Soap finally gets a video message.

It’s Bubkiss.

On your couch, under a heated blanket, eating a fucking steak.

Soap: Babe, the fuck is this?

You: Luxury.

Soap groans into his hands. "She’s ruined him. She’s fuckin’ RUINED HIM."

The next picture? Bubkiss, fully tucked into bed.

Soap grits his teeth. "I leave for one month, and you replace me with my own damn dog?*"

Gaz, barely holding in his cackles: "Look at him, mate. He’s got your spot and everything."

Soap glares at the picture. "I hate this."*

When he gets back? Bubkiss refuses to leave your side.

Soap groans. "I’ve lost me fuckin’ girlfriend to me fuckin’ dog." The first night home was spent staring at the ceiling from the bedroom floor, bubkiss snoring up above him. He spent hours plotting revenge on his own dog until he finally had enough and got up, pulling the duvet back, scooping the massive dog in his arms before dumping him on the floor before climbing into bed next to you, grumbling all the while.

MORAL OF THE STORY

maybe you couldn’t follow instructions after all..

[lizardho]

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

[kestrel-of-herran]

severance season three hints from interviews

take these with a grain of salt as the season is still being written, but i think we can sense some patterns here...

helly interacting with gemma

The moment that was important to me that stayed in the edit, which I’m proud of, is Helly seeing Gemma. Mark pulls her, she lingers, and she’s really connecting with Gemma for the first time. That moment is really essential for what comes next. [...] The whole scene is a reckoning for all of them. Helly is reckoning with this other person who loves the same person she loves, but on the outside. (Britt)

innie rights

All of the Innies are waking up to their own humanity and free will. Dylan is on that journey and even the marching band, another department, is now. Helly’s just like, “Maybe we have more people on our side than we think, and maybe there’s a chance for us down here to figure out something.” (Britt)

mark's development

Outie Mark makes a clear case for what he wants, which is to see his wife again, and Innie Mark makes a strong case for what he wants. That conflict will create a lot of story and tension moving forward, because both of these characters have a very compelling case to make for themselves. [...] Outie Mark’s motivation is very pure — he wants to be with Gemma — but he’s missing the fact that he’s created this other part of himself that he doesn’t want to accept. I don’t think Outie Mark understands that this is part of him, this is who he is. He wants to deny that. It’s obviously a weird, complicated situation that is theoretical, but I do feel like both of these parts of him represent parts that we have in ourselves. (Ben)

Mark’s choice to reintegrate represents a willingness to destroy himself, because he is so desperate to get his wife back. First of all, there’s the question of whether reintegration is survivable, because, so far, the survival rate of it is zero on the show. And then secondly, there’s this question of to what degree you will still be yourself by the time it’s done. [...] Is this something that will fade once they have stopped doing the procedure, or will he continue to see these flashes from his other life? That’s a question that we have going forward.(Dan)

With Mark, we leave him in this place now, where he’s having these flashes between his innie and outie life, he’s not fully reintegrated, but he’s getting these glimpses, and that makes him different from any other severed person on the show. We ultimately want to just live in that world for a while, and that was something we decided not to resolve this season. (Dan)

[The finale] shows innie Mark, having gone through the growth to see himself as an individual worthy of life and worthy of protection, he no longer feels that he is an appendage of his outie or an offshoot of his outie. He, through his love of Helly and his time on the floor, sees himself as a person. But it’s going to drive a hell of a wedge between him and outie Mark, I’ll tell you that much, because while innie Mark did get her to safety, he didn’t follow her and so he has robbed his outie of that reunion, which is what he’s been wanting the entire series, is to be back with his wife who he lost. I would imagine that to outie Mark, that feels like an extreme betrayal. (Dan)

helena's development ft. lumon

For someone to have inside of her a really strong rebellion, how does that affect the company for the greater good? On a personal level, how does the wilder, fiercer, and freer part of this woman — which she has lost touch with — affect her moving forward? What does she have to learn from that? How can she grow and expand? [...] I think she, much like Helly, is on a journey of self-discovery and answering the question Who am I? (Britt)

Of all the outie characters, Helena is the one who is the most masked. I think that she was raised with a very specific purpose, which is to be the best Lumon leader that she can be. I like to think that when she was young, there was a lot more Helly in her. And a lot of that got stamped out. So she’s walking around, playing this character, without even realizing it, that she has been forced to craft. So I think that if Helly seems really different from her, that’s why. (Dan)

As for Lumon, it’s another question that relates to corporate culture. You have Kier, who founded the company, and then all these different CEOs who put their own agenda onto what the company is. That’s an interesting question too — the difference between the core idea of a company and what it evolves into. (Ben)

fade to deepest red

It’s something we haven’t seen before. The colors have been pretty specific in the show. It’s an indication that we’re going to another place now. With red, you think of heart, and love. Things are changing. It’s a different tone. (Ben)

[blushingamethyst]

Hot Take:

If you’re the type of person who complains about poc writers only writing for poc readers you’re weird.

Like I get it, you go to a new fandom wanting fics and can’t find ones that represent you, but that doesn’t mean you get to bother these lovely people. Fan fiction is free, don’t be a choosy beggar.

For the longest time fan fics have been, for the most part, written for skinny white women. And personally I see the expansion of readers to be a wonderful addition to the community as a whole.

Being able to make the fics that represent you is really fun.

But I really hate to see people complaining about specific reader types. Especially poc readers.

And this is coming from someone who is white. For me I’ve always struggled with fics because I’m not thin, so seeing all the wonderful chubby/fat reader fics makes me so happy. And I’d imagine it can feel the same for those who aren’t white, finally getting the wonderful fanfic they deserve.

Some people need to realize that not everything has to be catered to them.

Let poc writers have their fun and just scroll by if it’s not for you.

[farspaceprincess]

more chubby mc x caleb cause the ppl loved it last time and i do too.

i think he lovessss to pick you up and twirl you around like a princess whenever he can, sometimes for no reason. he quickly shuts down any doubt or insecurity you may have by just picking you up. he’d probably feel a little wounded, playfully asking you if you think he’s really that weak and if you think he needs to go to the gym more.

speaking of the gym, caleb’s always been pretty athletic, but i think a huge motivation that helps him maintain a consistent workout routine is impressing you. he knows he’s good looking and in really good shape, but nothing makes his ego inflate more than catching you checking him out. he’s all too familiar with that cute routine of yours where you’ll sneak glances at him after he gets back from the gym or when he gets out of the shower. he’s like the king of ogling, so he knows every technique or move you think is subtle because he uses them against you constantly LMAO. he teases you whenever he catches you staring, and enjoys it a lot whenever you’re bold and feel him up, encouraging you to press your hands against his biceps or chest. or any part of him, really. he just wants you touching him :p

caleb would definitely let you practice makeup on him. as a matter of fact, i think he knows how to do makeup. its canon (i’m pretty sure) that he did your hair growing up, so he’s skilled at doing your hair, and i think he would’ve started learning and practicing makeup techniques to help you do yours at some point, probably around late middle school/early high school. he’s now resigned himself to being your personal model and makeup tester, letting himself get dolled up whenever you’re bored and want to experiment and test out new skincare or makeup.

in my last post i mentioned how he loves to see you all dressed up in cute frilly clothes, but i also think he goes crazy seeing you in casual, comfy clothing, bonus points if you’re wearing his clothes. honestly he goes crazy seeing you in general. it satiates that possessive side of him, knowing you’re comfortable enough around him to not feel obligated to always look “presentable”, and that you willingly choose his shirts or pants despite having your own personal closet at his house. it’s like you’re kids again, accidentally mixing up the laundry and using his t-shirts and shorts as pajamas. he starts getting in the habit of buying himself clothes for the sole purpose of seeing you in them, and before he knows it he has millions of shirts he knows will hang off your shoulders and sweatpants that will hang low on your waist.

kind of in that same vein, he makes sure all of your clothes smell like him to some degree. anything you leave at his place is going to smell like his detergent, and on the clothes you wear most often, he’ll spray some of his cologne on them. he invites you to do the same to his own clothing too, and if anyone notices that he smells like sweet perfume, nobody dares to comment on it.

caleb loves intimacy (sexual or otherwise), obviously. there’s something especially special to him about those quiet moments you two share, free from the baggage and pressure of the outside world. he wants you all to himself, and this is the closest he’ll ever get, so he cherishes each moment with every fiber of his being. he spends hours practically worshipping you, sososo thankful that you’re even giving him the opportunity to do so.

————————————————————————

a/n: idrk how to end this but i hope it was okay LOL praying its not super ooc pls dont stone me if it is. ignore any grammatical or spelling errors its 3 am and i was falling asleep halfway through writing this. i come up with most of these ideas on the spot. my writing process is very simple i fear.

also i write these on my phone on the app bc my laptop is broken so i hope the formatting isnt too weird???? idk how to use tumblr even though i’ve had this account since like 2016.

also would yall be interested in me making more headcanon rambles like these but for the other LIs??? pls lmk and i’ll start thinking of some for the other guys and brushing up on their lore!!!!!!

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (10)

So it’s been a while, huh? I think the beginning of the year crashed into me like a bulldozer, and I wasn’t in the mood to write. Well, I did write, but everything looked like shit from the butt. But at last, I managed to push through it. I tried something different with the writing here, so I hope it’s better than my previous work. Enjoy!

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

09 <- 10 -> 11

Masterlist

Taglist

Izuku truly wished they could put this whole incident behind them and move on. He had hoped that once Todoroki sent an email to the hospital director—a carefully worded, deeply sincere apology addressed to Doctor L/N and the hospital, sent the day after his failed attempt at apologizing in person— would lift some of the weight off Todoroki and Kirishima’s shoulders. That soon enough, things would settle, and the pack would be back to normal.

But from the moment Todoroki first told them what had happened, Izuku had a bad feeling. He knew that Todoroki going to the hospital alone to apologize was the right thing to do, but there had been something in Todoroki’s eyes, a sharp glint of excitement that didn’t sit right with him. And when he’d returned home that night, he’d found him on the couch, motionless, his hand buried in a bowl of peach slices and his fingers sticky with juice. His expression vacant, and absent. Kirishima hadn’t been the same either. If anything, after hearing about the failed apology attempt, he had gotten worse. Somehow, a single alpha, one Izuku had never even met, had managed to throw his entire pack into chaos.

Rationally, he knew it wasn’t the doctor’s fault. If anyone was to blame, it was his mates. But the whole situation was so strange, so frustrating, that he couldn’t help understand how the hell they had ended up here. He’d tried to ask Todoroki about the alpha, about you, but all he got was a name, and something about the way Todoroki said it made him hesitate to press any further. When he turned to Kirishima, he got even less. The redhead had been too angry that day to remember much at all. All he recalled, a few days later, was an unfamiliar fruity scent mixed with Todoroki’s before he broke the door open.

Now, three days had passed, yet the air in their apartment only grew heavier. And Todoroki—Todoroki was hardly there at all, more shadow than man. He spent most of his days asleep, and when he was awake, he barely moved, barely spoke. Just sat there, eyes fixed on the wall with an hollow expression, as if he were somewhere far beyond their reach. He wasn’t eating either, at least not enough. He’d claimed to have no appetite. The only thing Todoroki had asked for—had eaten without hesitation—was peaches. Not just a few, but an almost absurd amount, day after day, like he was possessed. He would sit there, silent and distant, methodically working through bowl after bowl, as if peaches were the only thing tethering him to reality. And the strangest part? He never seemed satisfied. No matter how many he ate, it was never enough. Since when did Todoroki even like peaches this much? Izuku had no idea and he was getting weird out by the sheer amount of peach’s pits in their trash can.

Izuku had tried to get him to eat more, something other than just peaches. He tried a soft approach, casually suggesting he add something else to his plate, like rice or any protein, just to balance it out. But no matter how he went about it, Todoroki refused every time, just shaking his head and mumbling that he wasn’t hungry. Kirishima’s attempts weren’t successful either, he had brought home soba from Todoroki’s favorite spot, but Todoroki only took a couple of bites before pushing the bowl away. Katsuki couldn’t do any of the gentle approaches. He had yelled, scowled, and was a breath away from shoving food down Todoroki’s throat. But none of it worked. It was like trying to start a fire with wet wood—Todoroki just sat there, blank-eyed and distant, completely unreachable.

It was a mess. A complete, exhausting mess. And if Todoroki was worrying him to death, Kirishima wasn’t far behind.

At least he was still functional—he still ate, still spoke, still went to work—but there was something off. He was quieter, his usual warmth dulled at the edges. Kirishima was their glue, the one who lifted their spirits and held them together when things got rough, but ever since they failed to get through to the hospital—failed to contact you—he hadn’t been himself fully. The only response they had gotten to Todoroki’s email was a generic, automated reply, and that had done nothing but add to Kirishima’s guilt.

Izuku sat on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table while he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his knee, his thoughts running in circles.

This wasn’t the first time Todoroki had been reckless. Beneath that calm exterior, he could be just as stubborn as Katsuki and him, even rash. But this? The complete detachment, the disregard for his own well-being, the strange obsession with a single food ? It wasn’t just a quiet withdrawal from his pack, It was like he’d stopped caring about himself completely. And that’s worried Izuku to death. He felt sick and helpless, and powerless. Why is this happening? His thoughts spiraled, fast and frantic. Was there something we missed? Maybe he’s just really tired and it will all get sort out ? But this isn’t like him. He’s shutting everyone out. Izuku’s chest tightened. What if I can’t fix this? What if it’s already too late? His mind kept racing, as it always did, with no answers, just more and more questions.

The coldness from their mate reminded him too much of their early high school days, when Todoroki had been a boy made of ice, all sharp edges and frozen shut doors. Izuku felt like the bond they shared had frayed, leaving him disconnected, adrift, as if though he was fading from their grasp.

The pieces didn’t add up. Frankly, the more he thought about it, the stranger it became. How had a simple visit to the hospital turned into this? What exactly had happened in that room? Izuku couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. And when he felt like that, he did what he always did—he investigated.

He started with the hospital itself, combing through their website, news articles, and patient reviews. Most of it was clean. No major scandals, no malpractice lawsuits, no patient complaints that weren’t immediately resolved. Still unsatisfied, he called the hospital again, this time pushing harder for answers but all he got was a meeting with the director of the hospital tomorrow afternoon which was better than nothing.

After that call, something clicked. When Todoroki came back home, he’d been in heat—and Kirishima had stayed with him through it. But it had been early, too early. The pack tracked their cycles meticulously, they had to. If all of them ended up « indisposed » at the same time, and a high-profile villain struck, it would be a disaster.

This wasn’t just odd. It was wrong, he thought. There has to be an explanation for this.

And so, he dove into research again, scouring medical papers, forums, even the more questionable corners of the internet. At first, all he found were the usual causes—stress, sudden hormonal shifts, pack mates, environmental factors. But none of those fit. None of them explained why Todoroki’s heat had hit him so randomly. And then, buried under layers of medical jargon and old case studies, he found it.

It was possible to induce a heat. Not naturally, not safely, but with the right mix of drugs, it could be done. Hospitals wouldn’t do it legally, of course, but the medications required for it? They weren’t rare. Every one of them could be found in any hospital.

Did someone do this to him? His heart hammered in his chest, just imagining this possibility. The thought alone made his hands tremble with anger. Alphas abusing omegas were not rare, and doctors abusing their patients were even less rare. It disgusted him to think Todoroki and Kirishima were beating themselves over this incident when the doctor was responsible after all. No, just potentially responsible. He couldn’t know for sure but part of him was already certain that this was the explanation.

As Izuku scrolled through paper after paper on this drug, the apartment remained still allowing him to fully soak every information he could find online. The low hum of the heater was the only sound breaking the silence. It was just him and Todoroki tonight, though he hadn’t seen his mate since morning.

But then, footsteps.

Todoroki stepped into the living room, his movements slow, mechanical. He didn’t acknowledge Izuku, didn’t even glance in his direction—just crossed the space and sank onto the couch with a quiet, exhausted sigh. His posture was loose, almost boneless, but there was no real relaxation to it—just the weight of someone running on empty.

Izuku’s fingers hovered over his laptop. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, how deep he’d buried himself in his research. Outside the glow of his screen, the apartment was already dark, save for the dim light spilling from the his pc. It was late. Later than he’d thought and he probably start to make dinner for tonight.

Izuku still remained sited on the couch though, seeing Todoroki like this—so empty—only made his anger burn hotter and made him stop his tracks. But he forced himself to swallow it down. He couldn’t afford to lash out, not when he still wasn’t sure. He had to wait for tomorrow, when he’ll have the meeting with the director.

One way or another, he was going to get answers.

Izuku shut his laptop, fingers lingering over the lid. He didn’t want anyone finding out about this—not until he had proof. But before he could fully gather his thoughts, the sudden bang of the front door swinging open, followed by the unmistakable rasp of Katsuki’s voice, nearly sent him jumping to his feet.

“The hell is it so damn dark in here?” Bakugo grumbled, irritated as he flicked on the lights.

Izuku blinked at the sudden brightness, squinting as his blond mate strode inside with Kirishima trailing closely behind.

“Hey, I thought you guys had night patrol,” Izuku said, glancing toward the clock hanging on the wall. They weren’t supposed to be home yet.

“We did,” Bakugo responded as he tossed his keys onto the counter. “Something came up, someone covered for me.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything at first. He moved past Bakugo, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the back of the couch, his gaze flickering toward Todoroki. Checking on him.

“My agency had an emergency downtown,” he finally said, voice lacking its usual warmth. “A villain attack turned into a rescue op. They needed extra hands for search and rescue. By the time we were done, they gave me my evening.”

Izuku hummed in acknowledgment, but his attention drifted to Katsuki, who hadn’t moved from where he stood. His gaze was locked onto Todoroki, sharp, expectant.

Waiting

But Todoroki didn’t react. Didn’t look up. Didn’t even acknowledge any of them too.

Just nothing

Bakugo grumbled something under his breath before heading into the kitchen with anger in each step.

I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter! Chapter 11 will be out soon, and we’ll get a Bakugo POV soon too. I wanted to focus on the pack dynamics before the reader enters, and there’ll be more of that next chapter. I think it’s important to show the established couple’s bond, so yeah we’ll get a lot of it and even more after the reader come in the picture.

Doing a taglist is a too much work omg, no wonder most people don’t do it nowadays. On one hand I like that it hard bc that’s mean so many people want to keep up with my fics that I ended having to tag many people, on the other hand this lowkey discouraging me from posting bc I know I have to update the list every time 😭

This is such a fake ass problem to have, I am self aware.

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

09 <- 10 -> 11

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